Exploring Space : Spatial Notions in Cultural, Literary and Language Studies; Volume 2 [1 ed.] 9781443822367, 9781443821445

Citation preview

Exploring Space

Exploring Space: Spatial Notions in Cultural, Literary and Language Studies; Volume 2: Space in Language Studies

Edited by

Andrzej Ciuk and Katarzyna Molek-Kozakowska

Exploring Space: Spatial Notions in Cultural, Literary and Language Studies; Volume 2: Space in Language Studies, Edited by Andrzej Ciuk and Katarzyna Molek-Kozakowska This book first published 2010 Cambridge Scholars Publishing 12 Back Chapman Street, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2XX, UK British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Copyright © 2010 by Andrzej Ciuk and Katarzyna Molek-Kozakowska and contributors All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-4438-2144-6, ISBN (13): 978-1-4438-2144-5

CONTENTS

Preface ......................................................................................................... x Acknowledgements .................................................................................. xiii Part I: The Use of Space in Dictionaries: Lexicography Chapter One................................................................................................. 2 Noun and Verb Codes in Pedagogical Dictionaries of English as a Space-saving Tool: What has Changed? Anna Dziemianko Chapter Two .............................................................................................. 13 Telegraphic Style of Definitions in the Concise Oxford Dictionary Małgorzata KamiĔska Chapter Three ............................................................................................ 24 Towards the Efficient Use of Space in The Chambers Dictionary Mariusz KamiĔski Chapter Four .............................................................................................. 34 Navigating Dictionary Space: The Findability of English Collocations in a General Learner’s Dictionary (LDOCE4) and Special-purpose Dictionary of Collocations (OCD) Robert Lew and Magdalena Radłowska Chapter Five .............................................................................................. 48 Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries: American Heritage College Dictionary (2004) as a Test Case Mirosława Podhajecka

vi

Table of Contents

Part II: Conceptualizing and Expressing Spatial Notions: Linguistics and Rhetoric Chapter Six ................................................................................................ 62 On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation Marek KuĨniak Chapter Seven............................................................................................ 75 On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish: A Shift in the Semantic Space of threaten and promise Maja LubaĔska Chapter Eight............................................................................................. 93 The Rhetoric of Space in Political Discourse: Spatial Metaphors in Selected Speeches of the European Commission Katarzyna Molek-Kozakowska Chapter Nine............................................................................................ 104 The Role of the Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English Agnieszka Wawrzyniak Chapter Ten ............................................................................................. 117 Place and Religious Language Urszula Wieczorek Chapter Eleven ........................................................................................ 125 The Rhetorical Situation as Mental Spaces Enacted by the Rhetor Jan Zalewski Part III: Space in the Communicative Encounter: Discourse Studies and Translation  Chapter Twelve ....................................................................................... 136 Psychological Distance in Father-Son Conflicts Presented in 20th Century American Drama Joanna Bobin Chapter Thirteen ...................................................................................... 146 Distance and Proximity in Diminutive Semantics and Pragmatics Dorota Gorzycka

Exploring Space Volume 2

vii

Chapter Fourteen ..................................................................................... 156 Axes of Social Distance in Everyday Communication: A Diachronic Study Anna Jaskólska Chapter Fifteen ........................................................................................ 166 Various Spatial Dimensions for Translating Multilingual Films Paweł D. Madej Chapter Sixteen ....................................................................................... 177 Exploring Sequential Relationships in Learner Discourse Renata Povolná Chapter Seventeen ................................................................................... 189 Social Distance in Translating for Confined Space: A Case Study of the Polish Subtitles for The Queen by Stephen Frears Izabela SzymaĔska Part IV: Space-related Mechanisms of Language Learning: Second Language Acquisition and Foreign Language Learning Chapter Eighteen ..................................................................................... 202 The Concept of Space in FL Pronunciation Learning Małgorzata Baran-Łucarz Chapter Nineteen ..................................................................................... 213 Aspects of Pronunciation Development in Foreign and Second Language Contexts Anna D. BiedrzyĔska Chapter Twenty ....................................................................................... 224 The Differences in the Perception of Praat-based Vocalic Contrasts in Different Age Groups Łukasz Furtak Chapter Twenty-One ............................................................................... 236 The Relationship between Levels of Self-perceived FL Abilities and Study Procedures in the FL Classroom Space Ewa Piechurska-Kuciel

viii

Table of Contents

Chapter Twenty-Two............................................................................... 248 Sharing a Common Neural Space: Second Language Learning and its Neurological Consequences Arkadiusz Rojczyk Chapter Twenty-Three............................................................................. 258 Space for Self-handicapping and Defensive Pessimism as Protective Strategies in Achievement Context Aleksandra WiĊckowska Part V: Space as a Teaching Resource: Methodology of Foreign Language Teaching Chapter Twenty-Four .............................................................................. 270 Conceptualizing Classroom Space Danuta GabryĞ-Barker Chapter Twenty-Five............................................................................... 282 The Space to Fill: Investigating the Aspects of the Multiple Choice Structure Recognition Cloze Task as Used on the Matura Exam Anna Konieczna Chapter Twenty-Six................................................................................. 296 Diagnosing Collocation Awareness of Advanced Learners of English as Exemplified by space Collocations ElĪbieta Krawczyk-Neifar Chapter Twenty-Seven ............................................................................ 306 CLIL Classrooms in Poland and in Germany: A Comparative View from the Observer Katarzyna Papaja Chapter Twenty-Eight ............................................................................. 316 Learners’ Perspective on the Role of Error Correction in the Foreign Language Classroom: The Importance of Space, Technique and Timing Mirosław Pawlak Chapter Twenty-Nine .............................................................................. 326 Reading Space in a Foreign Language Classroom Liliana Piasecka

Exploring Space Volume 2

ix

Chapter Thirty ......................................................................................... 336 Creating the Space for Growth in Language Tasks for Young Learners in the Learning-centred Approach Katarzyna Rokoszewska Contributors............................................................................................. 347 Editors ..................................................................................................... 358

PREFACE

The notion of space is as old as the history of human thought. Spatial categories used to predominantly connote immensity, unfathomableness, indeterminateness, or unlimitedness. However, with the passage of time, our perception of space has been substantially modified. Inhabitable space has proved to be insufficient and to have flexible borders, and even outer space, once beyond human reach, has turned out to be conquerable. The space of knowledge has been expanded considerably, although it has also remained impenetrable at points. As is commonly noted, now space seems to be “shrinking” proportionally to the increase in speed and the spread of technology. Consequently, any explorations into the notion of space inevitably reveal oppositions, paradoxes, ambiguities and unresolved questions related to our various perceptions of space. If we follow the meanders of thought on the nature of space as an ontological-epistemological concept, we will encounter the ancient Greek myth about the creation of the universe. Here, the world emerged out of Chaos. Space was soon betrothed to time, and both generated an insatiable human desire to fathom and order the universe. In Western culture, one of the pioneers of this endeavor was Democritus, “the father of modern science”, who formulated an atomic theory for the cosmos, and for whom space was a vacuum. The renowned Greek philosopher Aristotle claimed that space, likewise time, was a “quantity”, i.e., it was a whole dividable into parts. Moreover, it was a “multiplicity”—a countable amount of parts in a continuum. To mention other influential conceptions of space, Bernardino Telesio, an Italian philosopher and natural scientist, regarded space as a system of relations between things. Isaac Newton created a theory of absolute space, whereas his contemporary, Gottfried Leibnitz, was the author of a theory of relative space. For Immanuel Kant, the knowledge of space was “synthetic”; by contrast, Ludwig Wittgenstein, in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, introduced the notion of logical space and the “ensemble of possible states”. Apart from the philosophy of space (and time), which has greatly influenced modern science, certain spatial categories have penetrated and shaped Western culture and the humanities. The present book demonstrates how the notion of space can be treated as a common axis for research in such diverse disciplines as literary studies, linguistics and cultural studies,

Exploring Space Volume 2

xi

and how it has inspired a variety of analyses of textual, linguistic and cultural phenomena from the perspective of English Studies. Exploring Space: Spatial Notions in Cultural, Literary and Language Studies falls into two volumes and is the result of the 18th PASE (Polish Association for the Study of English) Conference organized by the Institute of English of Opole University and held at KamieĔ ĝląski in April 2009. The first volume embraces cultural and literary studies and offers papers on narrative fiction, poetry, theatre and drama, and post-colonial studies. The texts and contexts explored are either British, American or Commonwealth. The second volume refers to English language studies and covers papers on lexicography, general linguistics and rhetoric, discourse studies and translation, second language acquisition/foreign language learning, and the methodology of foreign language teaching. The book aims to offer a comprehensive insight into how the category of space can inform original philological research; thus, it may be of interest to those in search of novel applications of space-related concepts, and to those who wish to acquire an update on current developments in English Studies across Poland. By exploring various space-related categories, such as distance, proximity, territory, locality and movement, the contributors to both volumes of this book have managed to show that space is a powerful concept capable of conveying human experiences and perceptions across cultural, linguistic and temporal boundaries. It is not to say that space is treated here only in metaphorical terms. In fact some contributions have focused on very physical spaces: from the representations of particular localities (i.e., London or Dublin) in literary texts, to spatial arrangements on stage in theatrical performances; from space-related aspects of dictionary-making and film-subtitling, to classroom spaces that enhance English language learning. The notion of space has also turned out to be instrumental to insightful analyses of the domain of human psychology. Some contributors have chosen to explore the human psyche with a range of space-related categories: from “neural” and “mental” spaces in our cognitive processing, to spaces that enable emotional “self-discovery”, “growth,” or, on the contrary, psychological “confinement” or “self-handicapping”. This is why some studies in this collection treat space as liberating, blissful and identity-enhancing, whereas others point to its oppressive, sinister or alienating aspects, which only confirms the inherent paradoxes of this concept. Finally, a large proportion of papers in this collection investigate various social implications and cultural specificities of spatial notions. By

xii

Preface

applying space-related categories to the analysis of social communication and rhetorical expression, for example, some contributors have demonstrated how the “topos” of space can be used to guide our evaluations of and engagement in social reality. Space has also been shown to inform certain national, religious, moral, aesthetic and epistemological conceptualizations that are still pervasive in the English-speaking world despite its cultural openness and hybridity. Thus, some contributions shed new light on longstanding spatial dichotomies, such as public and domestic spaces, urban and rural landscapes, homeland and diasporic communities, and Western and Eastern geographies. A conclusion that can be drawn from these studies is that space is by no means a homogeneous category. That is why spatial notions should not be taken for granted, as any attempt at defamiliarizing them makes us discover new meanings in canonical literary texts, linguistic structures and popular cultural phenomena, for example. This is also what this collection hopes to achieve. —Andrzej Ciuk Katarzyna Molek-Kozakowska

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The editors wish to thank the PASE Board, particularly its Chair, Aleksandra KĊdzierska, for entrusting the Institute of English of Opole University with the task of organizing the 18th PASE Conference, as well as the President of the ESSE Board, Fernando Galván, for his encouragement and support. We owe special thanks to the reviewers of the contributions to this collection: Marek Błaszak, Ilona Dobosiewicz, Jacek Gutorow, and Ryszard Wolny for volume one, and Janusz Malak, Liliana Piasecka, Ewa Piechurska-Kuciel, Tadeusz Piotrowski and Jan Zalewski for volume two. We also wish to express our gratitude to ElĪbieta SzymaĔska-Czaplak, Jarosław Kujath, Tadeusz Lewandowski, Marlena Marciniak, Damian Picz, Tomasz Sutarzewicz and Przemyslaw Wilk for their active support and wholehearted involvement in preparing the conference and the present book.

PART I: THE USE OF SPACE IN DICTIONARIES: LEXICOGRAPHY

CHAPTER ONE NOUN AND VERB CODES IN PEDAGOGICAL DICTIONARIES OF ENGLISH AS A SPACE-SAVING TOOL: WHAT HAS CHANGED? ANNA DZIEMIANKO

1. Introduction The aim of the paper is to present a diachronic analysis of the development of noun and verb codes in pedagogical dictionaries of English. In particular, an attempt is made to investigate the distribution of codes in the microstructure and examine their form. To achieve the aims of the study, the latest as well as the earliest editions of all the major pedagogical dictionaries of English were consulted (OALDCE7, LDOCE5, COBUILD6, CALD3, MEDAL2, OALDCE1, LDOCE1, COBUILD1, CIDE, MEDAL1).1 In each volume, entries for over 100 headwords, nouns and verbs, were analyzed. The sample consisted of 60 nouns and 56 verbs cited by Quirk et al. (1985) as typical examples of the major sub-classes of these two parts of speech. With respect to nouns, the codes for countable, uncountable, reclassifiable and collective nouns were paid attention to. Of these, only reclassifiable and collective nouns might need some explanation. Reclassifiable nouns can be used uncountably and countably with a semantic shift so as to denote “a kind/type/form/ of”, “an appropriate unit 1 The first edition of OALDCE, published in Tokyo in 1948, was in fact titled Idiomatic and syntactic English dictionary. Reprinted photographically, it was published in the same year as A learner’s dictionary of current English. In 1952 it was retitled The advanced learner’s dictionary of current English. In 1974 the word Oxford was added to the title (Cowie 1978, 139). For the sake of consistency, the standard acronym OALDCE is used also with reference to the first edition as well.

Noun and Verb Codes in Pedagogical Dictionaries of English

3

of”, “a sort/brand of” (e.g., beer/a beer) (Quirk et al. 1985, 248, 298-299). Singular collective nouns, in turn, allow both singular and plural concord with the verb (e.g., the audience is/are enjoying the show) (Leech and Svartvik 1994, 40). The main categories of verbs were considered in the analysis (Quirk et al. 1985, 1171): − intransitive verbs, which do not require any objects, − copular verbs, which need subject complement, − ergative verbs, which can be used transitively and intransitively with a change in subject-verb relationship, − monotransitive verbs, which need a direct object—a noun phrase or a clause, − complex transitive verbs, which are followed by an object and an element which is not an object: nominal, adjectival, clausal object complement or adjunct, − ditransitive verbs, which need two objects, an indirect object and a direct object, which can be a noun phrase or a clause.

2. Distribution of verb codes Distribution of verb codes is presented schematically in Table 1.

+

+ + +

MEDAL1

+

CIDE

LDOCE1

+

COBUILD1

OALDCE1

+

+ +

+

MEDAL2

CALD3

+ +

COBUILD6

After the headword Before the definition Before/after examples Extra column

LDOCE5

OALDCE7

Table 1. Distribution of verb codes

+

+

As can be seen, today, verb codes are usually embedded into the entry block. They typically precede or follow relevant examples. However, when a monosemous verb or a sense of a polysemous verb is associated with only one pattern, the verb code precedes then the definition for the verb (sense). In MEDAL2 and LDOCE5, verb codes are given only before

4

Chapter One

definitions, and pattern illustrations, which in these dictionaries are used in place of codes, are interspersed among examples. In the last edition of COBUILD there is no extra column, introduced in the first edition. Instead, COBUILD6 adopts the strategy of alternating codes and examples. Distribution of verb codes was different in the earliest editions of the dictionaries. In the past, even when a few patterns were possible for a given verb sense, the codes for the patterns were all bunched together before the definition., and dictionary users were to match the codes with relevant examples on their own. In the first edition of COBUILD, codes were placed in the extra column beside the entry block. It is only in CIDE that verb codes were given in the vicinity of examples. In this dictionary, codes were placed also before definitions, and when a verb required an object, this fact was additionally acknowledged by means of a function 2 label for the object placed immediately after the headword.

3. Distribution of noun codes Table 2 summarizes the distribution of noun codes in the consulted dictionaries.

+

+

+

+ +

MEDAL1

LDOCE1

+

CIDE

OALDCE1

+

COBUILD1

MEDAL2

+ +

CALD3

+

COBUILD6

Before the definiton Before/after examples Extra column

LDOCE5

OALDCE7

Table 2. Distribution of noun codes

+

+

As the table shows, noun codes are, and were, usually placed before the definition. This positioning of noun codes can be problematic in the case of reclassifiable nouns. When the countable and uncountable uses represent different senses, each definition is preceded by a relevant code. However, when the different senses are not distinguished, the codes representing countability and uncountability are still placed together before one definition. As a result, dictionary users are left to their own 2

This point resurfaces below.

Noun and Verb Codes in Pedagogical Dictionaries of English

5

devices to match the codes with examples. In LDOCE5 noun codes are occasionally given also before examples. This distribution is typical of codes for collective nouns, in the case of which the representation of verb concord is shown symbolically before illustrative sentences. In CIDE, noun codes quite often follow examples. This is for instance the case when both countable and uncountable uses are possible for a given noun (sense). Then, codes representing countability and uncountability each follow one example at a time. Also, the variability in verb number after collective nouns is represented symbolically after the example(s) where it is illustrated. In COBUILD1, in turn, noun codes, like verb codes, are positioned in the extra column.

4. Form of verb codes Table 3 presents codes for selected verbs representing the aforementioned verb categories. The codes come from the most recent editions. Table 3. Verb codes (the latest editions) Class

Verb

Intrans.

arrive

Ergative

OALDCE7 LDOCE5/ COBUILD6 CALD3 MEDAL2 V I v I

stop V, VN (sb/sth) Copular seem linking (nice) verb VADJ Monotr. decide V to inf to do sth Compl.T. watch VN –Ing sb doing sth Ditrans. remind VN (that) sb that

I, T

v, v n

[I OR T]

linking verb

V-LINK v adj

[L]

T decide to do sth

v to-inf

T watch sb/sth do/doing sth T remind sb (that)

v n -ing

[I OR T] [+ to INFINITIVE] [I OR T] [+ OBJ + -ing VERB]

v n (that)

[T] [+ (that)]

6

Chapter One

In OALDCE7 and COBUILD6, only formal categories of linguistic description are used in verb codes, and there is only one verb symbol, [V]. The same symbols represent the patterns of verbs which belong to different classes. The use of one symbol for the verb instead of a few for different verb classes appears to benefit dictionary users (Aarts 1991, 223). Notions like transitive and intransitive are said to be difficult to language learners and are often misinterpreted. Also, the major verb classes presuppose a rather advanced knowledge of verb categorization (Aarts 1999, 23). The codes in the two dictionaries are also quite transparent; it is possible to tell at a glance what syntactic structure a given code represents without the need to read the explanation of symbols in the outside matter. The same holds for the codes in CALD3, which are still quite lucid and clear, even though they feature verb symbols for transitive, intransitive and linking verbs as well as the label for the functional category of the object. Unfortunately, the use of the transitive verb symbol and the object label may cause problems, since the former stands for the verb with its nominal object in some codes, but not in others. This is apparently the case in the code for remind sb that, where [T] symbolizes remind sb, but not in the one for watch sb doing sth, where [T] represents just watch, and [obj] should be taken to occupy the place of sb. It also seems that the coding system in CALD3 is the most space-consuming. The words infinitive or verb, used there in codes, can well be abbreviated without any loss on the side of transparency. In fact, in [ing VERB], like in the code for watch sb doing something, the word verb seems to be completely redundant; in this combination, it does not add any information which is not conveyed by ing itself. LDOCE5 and MEDAL2 are similar inasmuch as they offer codes for verb classes only. The dictionaries feature pattern illustrations, or collocations, which are obviously a space-consuming substitute for the traditional method of encoding verb patterns. Pattern illustrations appear to confirm Nesi’s (2000, 74) claim that an economical alternative to grammar coding has not yet been found. Table 4 presents verb codes in the earliest editions of the major pedagogical dictionaries. MEDAL1 is not taken into consideration because the system of verb codes in this edition is the same as in the last one, discussed above.

Noun and Verb Codes in Pedagogical Dictionaries of English

7

Table 4. Verb codes (the earliest editions) Class

Verb

OALDCE1 LDOCE1 COBUILD1 CIDE

Intrans.

arrive

P 21

IØ

V: USU + A I

P 1; P 21

T1, IØ

P 22

L7

V OR VERG V+C

P2

T3

V + to-INF

P6

V4

V+O

P 12

D5

V + O, USU obj [T] [+ + REPORT- obj + (that) clause] CL

Ergative

stop (sb/sth) Copular seem (nice) Monotr. decide to do sth Compl.T. watch sb doing sth Ditrans. remind sb that

(obj) [I], [T] [L (+ to be)] (obj) [+ to infinitive] (obj) [T + obj + v-ing]

As can be seen, codes in OALDCE1 are just alphanumeric references to the explanation of verb patterns in the outside matter of the dictionary. They show only the numbers at which verb patterns are explained. As such, they are completely opaque, it is impossible to infer any information on the components of verb complementation from their form alone. The only way to figure out what a code means is to look it up in the outside matter. The codes are not mnemonic, either; there is nothing in their structure which could make it possible to recall, rather than immediately realize, what a given code stands for. In LDOCE1 different verb classes are represented by different verb symbols which are supposed to be easily associated with them (Procter 1976, 315). Yet, the mnemonic value of [V] is doubtful, as it tends to be associated with verbs in general, but in LDOCE1 it designates a specific category of verbs which need “a 2-part DIRECT OBJECT. The first part is a nounlike expression, and the second is an infinitive with or without to, 3 an ing form or a past participle” (LDOCE1, xxxi). Nonetheless, the verb coding system in this dictionary is mnemonic because the numbers which follow verb symbols have the same meaning regardless of the verb symbol which precedes them. It is this one-to-one correspondence between a 3

The dictionary does not explain what ‘nounlike’ means.

8

Chapter One

number and its meaning, independent of any other symbols in codes, that the editor of the dictionary considers the greatest advantage of the coding system and a memory aid (Procter 1976, 316). The numbers which can be seen in the codes in Table 4 have the following meaning: Ø—no complement or object, 1—one or two noun or pronoun objects or complements, 3—a to-infinitive, 4—an -ing form, 5—a that-clause, 7—an adjectival complement. Undoubtedly, the use of symbols which have the same meaning irrespective of the context in which they occur can aid their retention. Yet, while the symbols cannot be denied some mnemonic value, they are anything but transparent. They are largely incomprehensible to dictionary users, since their form alone does not reveal their meaning. The syntactic patterns the codes represent can be fully comprehended only with the help of the outside matter, where the symbols used in them are explained. Unfortunately, such explanations are hardly ever read. All their shortcomings notwithstanding, there is no doubt that the codes in OALDCE1 and LDOCE1 are significant achievements. They reveal differences between verb classes, represent complementation patterns in much detail and, no less importantly, take up little space. The codes in COBUILD1 are more transparent, but also more spaceconsuming. They consist of a few letters which represent both formal and functional categories. COBUILD1 has symbols for the object [O] as well as the functional categories of adjunct [A] and complement [C], but they seem to be far from immediately comprehensible to dictionary users. Some other characters used in codes are not fully explicit, either. The symbol [REPORT-CL] stands for any reported clauses introduced by that, a wh-word and if (COBUILD1, 1227), and is thus more confusing than the more descriptive labels representing each of the clauses separately. It is also worth noting that the code for watch sb doing sth is incomplete, since it does not show that the object is to be followed by -ing participle complementation. While COBUILD1 uses one straightforward verb symbol [V] to represent the main verb classes, the symbol is additionally modified to designate ergative verbs [V-ERG]. However, the code for ergative verbs seems to be superfluous; the term ergative is most probably unfamiliar to foreign learners. The classes of intransitive, transitive and linking verbs have their symbols in CIDE, but verbs which can be followed by a clause are not described as transitive. The functional label object, represented by the abbreviation [obj], performs two functions. When given after the headword, it indicates the complementation-taking properties of the verb,

Noun and Verb Codes in Pedagogical Dictionaries of English

9

but when incorporated in codes following examples, it denotes a sentence constituent. CIDE does not use any abbreviations to represent full infinitives and that-clauses. The labels [to infinitive] and [(that) clause] are needlessly long, especially in comparison with their shorter counterparts employed in the other dictionaries, which are no less transparent. Overall, the dictionaries discussed above incorporate opaque, mnemonic and transparent coding systems. The codes in COBUILD1 and CIDE are more transparent than those in OALDCE1 and LDOCE1, since it is possible to infer verb complementation structure from the codes themselves, without the assistance of the outside matter. The codes in LDOCE1 are mnemonic, mainly because the meaning of symbols does not change depending on the context in which they occur. Nonetheless, in LDOCE1 and OALDCE1, codes for different patterns are clearly different, even though not immediately comprehensible. On the other hand, the transparency of the coding systems in the other volumes, including the latest editions, often coupled with the rejection of codes for monotransitive, complex transitive and ditransitive verbs, results in blurring the distinctions between underlyingly different complementation patterns. Yet, the transition from mnemonic to transparent coding systems is no doubt commendable as it boosts the accessibility of verb codes to dictionary users. The reduced accuracy of codes and their more spaceconsuming form are the price for clarity (Rundell 1998, 330).

5. Form of noun codes Information on the codes for countable (C), uncountable (U), reclassifiable (R) and collective (Cl.) nouns in all the selected dictionaries is presented in Table 5. As can be seen from the table, the COBUILD dictionaries have the most space-consuming noun codes. For one thing, the dictionaries use abbreviations, and not one-letter symbols, for countable and uncountable nouns. For another, they feature [N-MASS] and [N-VAR] with reclassifiable nouns, and only sometimes show explicitly that such nouns 4 are countable and uncountable. Also, codes for collective nouns make it clear that the nouns can be followed by singular and plural verbs. In the other dictionaries, there are one-letter symbols for countable and uncountable nouns. In OALDCE1, LDOCE1 and OALDCE7, [C] appears in the entry only when in at least one sense a noun is not countable; if 4

This happens when the two uses represent different senses.

10

Chapter One

nouns are not coded in any way, their countability should be taken for granted. In the remaining dictionaries, countability is no longer unmarked—all nouns are coded as a matter of routine. In the dictionaries under discussion reclassifiable nouns are simply presented as both countable and uncountable. Like COBUILD1 and COBUILD6, OALDCE7, LDOCE5, CALD3 as well as CIDE explicitly indicate the patterns of collective nouns, but the codes are shorter; there are abbreviations, the plus sign and/or the slash. LDOCE1, by contrast, has the more opaque, though less space-consuming code [GC] for countable group nouns. The variability in verb concord with collective nouns is not represented by means of codes in either edition of MEDAL, where only [C] and [U] are used.5 Table 5. Noun codes (the latest and the earliest editions)

C

book

OALD CE7 C

U

applause

U

U

R

cake

C, U

C, U

Cl committee .

LDOCE 5 C

COBUILD6

CALD3

N-COUNT

C

MED AL2 C

NUNCOUNT N-VAR

U

U

C OR U

C, U

N-COUNT with sing or pl verb

C;+SIN G/PL VERB

C

COBUILD1

CIDE

N COUNT

C

MED AL1 C

N UNCOUNT N COUNT ŹN UNCOUNT (N MASS) N COUNT: VB CAN BE SING OR PL

U

U

U, C

C, U

C

book

[C+sing [C ./pl. v.] also+plur al verb BrE] OALD LDOCE CE1 1 C

U

applause

U

U

R

cake

C, U

1 C, 2 U

-

GC

Cl committee

C;+sing/ C pl v

5 The information that a collective noun “can be followed by a singular or plural verb” is given in full after its definition in the entry.

Noun and Verb Codes in Pedagogical Dictionaries of English

11

6. Conclusions Encoding syntactic information on nouns and verbs has substantially improved since the time where the first pedagogical dictionaries of English were published. Positive developments have been identified in both the distribution of codes and their form. Alternating verb codes and examples is highly commendable, since in this way the dictionary user can immediately see how the patterns represented in codes work in practice. Nonetheless, such positioning of codes remains desirable in the case of nouns, especially—reclassifiable and collective ones. In particular, it seems that when a given noun sense is characterized by different patterns of syntactic behavior, matching relevant codes with examples would be welcomed by dictionary users. Besides, the accessibility of verb codes has improved, and now they are clearer to dictionary users than those in the earliest dictionaries. Nonetheless, more transparent codes have developed at the expense of accuracy and space. The most space-consuming verb codes have been identified in CALD3 and CIDE. It seems that some space could have been saved there with the help of standard, but no less transparent abbreviations and simple typographic devices. COBUILD6 and COBUILD1, by contrast, feature the most space-consuming noun 6 codes. Paradoxically, such codes are not necessarily clearer. In these dictionaries, excessively long codes serve to represent the syntax of collective nouns, but also in this case, greater length does not entail any obvious gain on the side of clarity. Presumably, abbreviations and typographic signs can perform the same function as lengthy codes. However, only empirical investigation can prove this hypothesis.

References Aarts, Flor. 1991. OALD, LDOCE and COBUILD: Three learner’s dictionaries of English compared. Cahiers de l’Institut de Linguistique de Louvain 17, 211-226. —. 1999. Syntactic information in OALD5, LDOCE3, COBUILD2 and CIDE. In: The perfect learners’ dictionary (?), ed. T. Herbst, K and Popp, 15-32. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag Cowie, Anthony P. 1978. The place of illustrative material and collocations in the design of a learner’s dictionary. In In honor of A. S. Hornby, ed. P. Strevens, 127-139. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

6

See [N-VAR] and [N-MASS].

12

Chapter One

Leech, Geoffrey and Jan Svartvik. 1994. A communicative grammar of English. London, New York: Longman. Nesi, Hilary. 2000. The use and abuse of EFL dictionaries: How learners of English as a foreign language read and interpret dictionary entries. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag. Procter, Paul. 1976. The design of a dictionary for language teaching and learning. In Proceedings of the 4th International Congress of Applied Linguistics, ed. G. Nickel, 309-317. Stuttgart: HochschulVerlag. Quirk, Randolph, Sidney Greenbaum, Geoffrey Leech and Jan Svartvik (eds.). 1985. A comprehensive grammar of the English language. London, New York: Longman. Rundell Michael. 1998. Recent trends in English pedagogical lexicography. International Journal of Lexicography 11, 315-342.

Dictionaries CALD3. 2008. Cambridge advanced learners’ dictionary. 3rd edition. ed. E. Walter. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. CIDE. 1995. Cambridge international dictionary of English. ed. P. Procter. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. COBUILD1. 1987. Collins COBUILD English language dictionary. 1st edition. ed. J. Sinclair. London, Glasgow: Collins. COBUILD6. 2008. Collins COBUILD advanced English dictionary. 6th edition. Boston: Heinle Cengage Learning, Glasgow: Harper Collins Publishers. LDOCE1. 1978. Longman dictionary of contemporary English. 1sr edition. ed. P. Procter. Harlow: Longman. LDOCE5. 2009. Longman dictionary of contemporary English. 5th edition. ed. M. Mayor. Harlow: Pearson Longman. MEDAL1. 2002. Macmillan English dictionary for advanced learners. 1st edition. ed. M. Rundell. Oxford: Macmillan Education. MEDAL2. 2007. Macmillan English dictionary for advanced learners. 2nd edition. ed. M. Rundell. Oxford: Macmillan Education. OALDCE1. 1948. The advanced learner’s dictionary of current English. 1st edition. ed. A. Hornby. Oxford: Oxford University Press. OALDCE7. 2005. Oxford advanced learner’s dictionary of current English. 7th edition. ed. S. Wehmeier. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

CHAPTER TWO TELEGRAPHIC STYLE OF DEFINITIONS IN THE CONCISE OXFORD DICTIONARY MAŁGORZATA KAMIēSKA

First published in 1911, Concise Oxford Dictionary (COD)1was admired as a “marvel of condensation, accomplished by skilful hands” of the brothers Henry and Francis Fowler (COD11, vii). The book was issued in a small format (12.5 x 18.9 cm)2 but the most characteristic features of the condensation were noticeable on a page of the main body. They included nesting of derivatives and compounds, which was by no means innovative in British lexicography (Simpson 1990, 1960), and the adoption of the telegraphic style of definitions to the degree which was unprecedented in the history of dictionary making. This paper presents the features of the telegraphic style, or the telegraphese, as the first editors called it, and the changes in the style of definitions introduced in successive editions of the COD. Let us begin the presentation with the first edition of the dictionary.

1. COD1 Describing the “peculiarities” of the dictionary, the Fowlers explained in the preface that “space must be saved [...] by the severest economy of expression—amounting to the adoption of telegraphese—that readers can be expected to put up with”. Incidentally, as Allen (1986, 1) points out, the Fowlers mentioned the word telegraphese in the preface but they forgot to include it in the main body of the dictionary. The extract above shows that 1 Since the dictionary is commonly known as the COD (from the initial letters of the title), I have decided to use this abbreviation in the paper. However, it should be noted that recently the title has been changed into Concise Oxford English Dictionary, with the actual abbreviation being COED. 2 as measured on the edges of the cover

14

Chapter Two

the editors made it clear that the comprehensibility of definitions depended on the user’s skills, and emphasised that it was the user who took an active part in the process of reception of definitions. Evidently, it was the policy of saving space that made definitions difficult to read for the average user. One of the space-saving techniques consisted in the omission of articles, both definite and indefinite, for example: burglar “One who breaks into house by night with intent to commit felony”; burn “Small stream”; Florida “State in U.S.”.

What was characteristic of COD1 was the omission of genus words in some definitions of multi-word lexical units, which made the definitions incomplete in Aristotelian terms. Thus, definiens, or the defining phrase, was no longer substitutable for definiendum, or the word defined, for example: burn away “to nothing, to extinction”; burn down “less vigorously as fuel fails”; flock-bed “stuffed with ff.”; hard winter “with, without, much frost”; maiden name ”(before marriage)”; winter quarters “esp. to which troops retire for w.”.

Such definitions required from the user some effort: in order to understand them, one had to refer to the part of the unit defined and treat it as the genus of the definition. For example, in order to formulate a complete definition of burn down above, one had to add the head of the compound being defined, i.e. “burn”, to the definition proper provided in the dictionary. As a result, the complete definition was as follows: “burn less vigorously as fuel fails”. The missing information, i.e. the sense of “burn”, could be located in the same entry. Sometimes in order to formulate a complete definition, the user had to add the whole unit being defined, for example, ears burn “when one is talked of”. The feature of omitting genus words remained in the COD down to the fifth edition, and to a lesser degree it could also be observed in COD6 and COD7 (my unpublished doctoral dissertation). Omissions were frequent in contexts in brackets. Typically the contexts were introduced with the preposition “of”, for example, maiden “(of female animals) uncoupled”, maieutic “(Of Socratic mode of inquiry)

Telegraphic Style of Definitions in the Concise Oxford Dictionary

15

obstetric, ...”. However, sometimes the preposition was omitted, which might have been confusing to the inexperienced user who wondered how to relate the bracketed information to the definition proper, for example: burn “give, make to give, light (lamp, candles, gas, oil, &c.)” (COD1).

Changes towards user-friendliness and easier comprehensibility were carried out as late as COD6, where both contexts mentioned above were preceded by “of”. Another feature of the telegraphese was that a single definition could refer to more than one lexical category of the lemma. With this aim in view, several techniques were used. One of them was to mention a few hyperonyms, each of which being of different lexical category; for example, in the definition of burlesque: burlesque a. & n.., &v.t. “Imitative, imitation, imitate, for purpose of deriding or amusing”.

This definition appeared in the COD down to its seventh edition. The same effect was achieved by the use of brackets which suggested that the user could extract more than one sense out of a single definition. The brackets contained appropriate suffixes (as in burlesque below) or the whole words which carried a part of information on a related sense (as in rabblement below). As is seen in the latter definition, the addition of a related sense by means of brackets could involve a change in the lexical category of the word defined: burlesque a. & n. “bombast(ic), mock-serious(ness)”; rabblement “(Tumult as of) a rabble”.

Such a type of definitions was retained in the dictionary down to COD7. Numerous abbreviations were a characteristic feature of Fowler’s definitions. When a headword was used within the body of the entry, either as a word in a definition or as a sub-head, it was given in an abbreviated form, for example “f.” for flock, “w.” for winter (see the examples below). A double initial suggested the plural form, e.g. “ff.” for flocks. The abbreviations in the form of initial letters frequently appeared in definitions of multi-word lexical items, for example: f.-bed “stuffed with ff.”; w. quarters “esp. to which troops retire for w.”.

16

Chapter Two

In COD1 the conjunction “and” was hardly typed in the conventional way (“and”): it was rather expressed by means of the abbreviation “&”. The definition of winter below has also months given in abbreviated forms: winter “Season between autumn & spring, three or four coldest months of year (in northern latitudes Nov. or Dec. to Jan. or Feb., or , Astron., from Dec. solstice to March equinox”.

The use of the abbreviation “&c” was also a space-saving option. It was used for broadening the meaning, without the need to enumerate other items within a given semantic field, as in flock “Lock, tuft, of wool, cotton, &c”. As opposed to “&c”, other abbreviations such as esp(ecially) and usu(ally) narrowed the meaning. The use of commas is also worth mentioning. They were frequently used to separate hyperonyms (genus words) from each other, which made the definitions even briefer, though sometimes unnatural (see example below). In later editions, the commas were replaced by conjunctions “or”. As is seen in the definitions below, commas were also used to separate genus words from the rest of the definitions: burn “put, be put, to death by fire”; burn “Consume, waste, by fire”.

However, the omission of the conjunction “or” in a number of definitions did not suggest that they were not used at all. On the contrary, they sometimes appeared several times in a single definition, for example: race “genus or species or breed or variety of animals or plants”.

From another point of view, the use of conjunctions “or” in the definition above also saved space because the conjunctions joined words or senses together into a single definition. Otherwise, the editor would have distinguished separate senses or sub-senses. It is worth mentioning that some features of definitions described in this paper are not unique to the COD but could be found in other monolingual dictionaries as well, especially those addressed to native users. For example, a typical definition in COD1 had a form of a brief analytical phrase which saved space much better than the discursive one. Understandably, sometimes the editors decided to use a single word, i.e. a near-synonym. Both types of definitions were commonly used in a popular

Telegraphic Style of Definitions in the Concise Oxford Dictionary

17

dictionary such as the Chambers’s Twentieth Century Dictionary (Davidson 1901). Another characteristic of COD1 was the omission of objects of transitive verbs, which was again observable in other native speakers’ dictionaries (Piotrowski 1994, 135). This feature was a consequence of the traditional Aristotelian rule of defining. It followed that transitive verbs were defined by other transitive verbs without specifying their direct objects, for example: burlesque, v.t. “imitate, for purpose of deriding or amusing”.

It seems that substitutability of definitions is a space-saving option. Such definitions provide only the information which is necessary to understand a word in a text by replacing the word with a defining phrase. However, despite its obvious merits, this technique can confuse the inexperienced user or EFL learner who needs information on meaning given explicitly. Objects of transitive verbs were by no means omitted in all definitions. Sometimes the editors felt the need to provide the objects in brackets, narrowing the context of the use of the defined word; sometimes their provision was necessary for the user to understand the definition, for example: bustle “make (others) hurry or work hard”. There were definitions which could be understood once the user had read the preceding definition(s), for example: mail “Bag of letters for conveyance by post; this system of conveyance, (...), the m., all that is so conveyed on one occasion”. This technique has survived until the latest edition, though with some modifications towards more comprehensibility. It can also be found in other monolingual dictionaries. The advantage of the adoption of the telegraphic style was obvious: it saved a great deal of space. On the other hand, it might have been confusing for some users because it lacked clarity and broke the rule of substitutability of definitions.

2. COD2—COD5 In the following editions down to COD5, in terms of definitions the dictionary remained largely unchanged. Revisions of definitions were scarce, with the occasional addition of new senses. In COD4 the editor employed numbering of senses, which was a step towards the clarity of entries and better access to definitions. In order to save space, he used the swung dash “~” which replaced the abbreviation of the headword within

18

Chapter Two

the entry. For example, the former “b.”, which had stood for the headword burn, was now replaced with the dash. On the whole, the telegraphic style of the original edition was retained.

3. COD6 Definitions in COD6 underwent the most thorough revision since its original edition. Although carried out in a rather unsystematic way, the changes consisted in breaking away from the features of telegraphic style. Consequently, a number of definitions became more natural and easier to understand for the average user. One of the changes was that genus words were no longer omitted in the definitions of multi-word lexical units, for example: burn away “to nothing, to extinction” (COD5); burn away “diminish to nothing by burning” (COD6).

However, this type of revision was not made systematically because many other partial definitions (without the hyperonym) were retained, in which case they were given in brackets, for example: ears burn “(esp., allegedly, when one is talked of)” (COD6); flock-bed, flock-mattress “(stuffed with flocks)” (COD6); winter quarters “(esp. to which troops retire for winter)” (COD6).

Unlike in the previous editions, in COD6 the bracketed context was introduced with the preposition “of” in a more consistent way. As a result, semantic information was presented in the way which was more explicit and comprehensible for the user; compare: burn “Consume, waste, by fire (t.&i., the heat, heating person, or heated thing, being subject;...)” (COD5); burn “Consume, be consumed, waste, by fire, (of heat, person heating, or heated thing)” (COD6).

Commas in definitions were not used as frequently as in the previous editions. They were replaced by conjunctions “or” or were omitted, which resulted in a more natural style of definitions; compare: burn “Give, make to give, light ...” (COD5); burn “Give or cause to give light ...” (COD6).

Telegraphic Style of Definitions in the Concise Oxford Dictionary

19

However, in many other definitions the change did not occur and the comma after the genus was retained, for example: burn “Consume, be consumed, waste, by fire” (COD6).

Not all changes in COD6 were aimed at better comprehensibility. Some definitions became even more difficult to understand for the average user. It came as a result of the introduction of Latin taxonomic terms and more technical vocabulary in the definitions of natural-kind terms, for example: rabbit “Burrowing rodent of hare family, brownish grey in natural state, also black or white or pied in domestication” (COD5); rabbit “Burrowing gregarious herbivorous mammal (Oryctolagus cuniculus) of hare family, brownish grey in natural state, also black or white or pied in domestication” (COD6).

In the following edition, COD7, most definitions survived largely unchanged, with only minor revisions and additions of senses.

4. COD8 The editor of COD8 continued the policy of changes towards more clarity and comprehensibility, which was initiated in COD6. The editor declared it explicitly in the preface: “The definitions have been rewritten in clear continuous prose without dictionary ‘telegraphese’” (preface to COD8, vii). As compared with the previous editions, hyperonyms were used more systematically. For example, in the definition of winter quarter, one of the changes consisted in the provision of the superordinate term, “place”: winter quarters “(esp. to which troops retire for winter)” (COD7); winter quarters “a place where soldiers spend the winter” (COD8).

That the changes in COD8 were aimed to improve the comprehension of definitions can be seen in the definitions of mail, in which pro-forms such as “this”, “all that”, “so” were no longer used, instead they were replaced with the more explicit wording, compare: mail “1. n bag of letters for conveyance by post; this system of conveyance, the POST2, matter so conveyed; all that is so conveyed on one occasion; ~

20

Chapter Two (coach, train, etc.), vehicle carrying this; letters etc. delivered at one place on one occasion” (COD7); mail “1 a letters and parcels etc. conveyed by post. b the postal system. c one complete delivery or collection of mail. d one delivery of letters to one place, esp. to a business on one occasion. 2. a vehicle carrying mail. 3. hist. a bag of letters for conveyance by post” (COD8).

The editor departed from the “telegraphese” by a consistent use of articles the and a; compare: mail “protective shell or scales of animals” (COD7); mail “the protective shell, scales, etc., of an animal” (COD8).

What is more, in definitions with two or more genus words, the genus word was no longer separated from the following rest of definition by a comma, which made the style of definitions more natural, compare: burn “consume, be consumed, waste, by fire” (COD7); burn “(...) be or cause to be consumed or destroyed by fire” (COD8).

In COD8 different lexical categories of a headword were given separate treatment: they were no longer defined in a single definition but in separate ones. The change was evidently carried out at the expense of space; compare: burlesque a. & n., & v.t." 1. Imitative, imitation, imitate, for purpose of deriding or amusing; bombast(ic), mock-serious(ness); (...)” (COD7); burlesque a., adj., & v. ”1 a comic imitation... b a performance or work ... c bombast, mock-seriousness. (...) — adj. of or in the nature of burlesque. —v.tr. (...) make or give a burlesque of.” (COD8).

Space was no longer saved by any abbreviations or symbols for the headword within entries (such as the former “m.” or “~” for mail). Instead, the headword was given explicitly in the full form; compare: mail “(...) ~ order, order for goods to be sent by post” (COD7); mail “(...) mail order an order for goods sent by post” (COD8).

For the sake of the clarity of entry structure, definitions of phrasal verbs and other multi-word lexical units were transferred to the end of the entry. Formerly, they had been placed among the definitions of the main verb. Moreover, for better access to entries, the editor assigned separate entry status to some set expressions which had previously been run on

Telegraphic Style of Definitions in the Concise Oxford Dictionary

21

entries. Thus, the overall clarity of the entry was improved at the expense of space. In the following edition, COD9, changes in definitions were rather few. The editor continued the transfer of set expressions from the microstructure to the macrostructure.

5. COD10 Definitions in COD10 underwent substantial revision. The changes were aimed at facilitating the comprehension of definitions and saving space. The former purpose was served by the use of the word someone as the object of a transitive verb, as is shown below. On the whole, the pronoun appeared in definitions much more frequently than in the previous editions. burn “be or make furious” (COD9); burn “make someone very angry” (COD10).

What is more, revisions included the simplification of defining language, with the use of frequent words and the deletion of encyclopedic information, compare: winter “the coldest season of the year, in the northern hemisphere from December to February and in the southern hemisphere from June to August” (COD9); winter “the coldest season of the year, after autumn and before spring” (COD10).

For better comprehension, Latin taxonomic terms were no longer imbedded in definitions but were transferred to a separate section which was put in brackets; compare: rabbit “any of various burrowing gregarious plant-eating mammals of the family Leporidae, esp. Oryctolagus cuniculus, with long ears and a short tail (...)” (COD9); rabbit “a burrowing gregarious plant-eating mammal, with long ears, long hind legs, and a short tail. [Oryctolagus cuniculus and other species]” (COD10).

The editors further departed from the “telegraphese” by the deletion of the abbreviation “etc.”, a device carrying rather vague information. In the definition below, a more natural style was obtained by the deletion of the

22

Chapter Two

abbreviation “etc.” and the replacement of the comma with the conjunction “or”: flock “a lock or tuft of wool, cotton, etc.” (COD9); flock “a lock or tuft of wool or cotton” (COD10).

The changes aiming at better understanding of definitions were compensated by saving space. With that aim in view, the editor deleted a number of senses, especially those which had become obsolete. Also contextual information was deleted, for example: winter “a year (esp. of a person’s age)” (COD9); winter “years” (COD10).

Furthermore, the editors joined separate senses together into a single one, using the conjunction “or”, for example: flog “2 (...) a (...) sell. b offer for sale” (COD9); flog “3 (...) sell or offer for sale” (COD10);

The style of definitions developed in COD10 was retained in COD11. To make the dictionary up-to-date, the editors occasionally added new senses but the wording of most definitions basically remained unchanged.

6. Conclusions The “telegraphese” was an appreciated feature of this small-format dictionary, as it saved space and made room for more vocabulary. On the other hand, it had a definite drawback: it was not user-friendly. Consequently, it is no wonder that the editors of later editions revised the defining language, making it easier to understand not only for native users but also for foreign language learners. In general, the COD remained unchanged down to its fifth edition. These earliest editions in particular show the characteristics of the “telegraphese”. COD6 was the first edition in which the editor set out to improve comprehensibility and clarity of definitions by making them more natural, though the changes were rather unsystematic. The policy of changes initiated in COD6 was continued in COD8 more consistently, with a further departure from the “telegraphese”. The aim of comprehensibility of definitions could be realised more successfully in COD10 at the expense of space.

Telegraphic Style of Definitions in the Concise Oxford Dictionary

23

References Allen, Robert E. 1986. A concise history of the COD. In The history of lexicography, ed. R.R.K. Hartmann, vol. 40, 1-11. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Davidson, Thomas. 1901. Chambers’s twentieth century dictionary of the English language. Edinburgh: W & R. Chambers, Limited. Piotrowski, Tadeusz. 1994. Z zagadnieĔ leksykografii. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Simpson, John A. 1990. English lexicography after Johnson to 1945. In Wörterbücher Dictionaries Dictionnaires. An International Encyclopedia of Lexicography, Vol. 2, ed. Franz. J. Hausmann et al., 1953-1966. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.

Editions of COD, in chronological order COD1 Fowler, Henry W., Fowler, Francis G. 1911. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: Clarendon Press. COD2 Fowler, Henry W. 1929. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD3 Fowler, Henry W., Le Mesurier, Herbert G., McIntosh, Ernest 1934. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD4 McIntosh, Ernest. 1951. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD5 McIntosh, Ernest. 1964. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD6 Sykes, John B. 1976. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD7 Sykes, John B. 1982. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD8 Allen, Robert E. 1990. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD9 Thompson, Della. 1995. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. Oxford: University Press. COD10 Pearsall, Judy. 1999. Concise Oxford English Dictionary. Oxford: University Press. COD11 Soanes, Catherine., Stevenson, Angus. 2004. Concise Oxford English Dictionary. Oxford: University Press.

CHAPTER THREE TOWARDS THE EFFICIENT USE OF SPACE IN THE CHAMBERS DICTIONARY MARIUSZ KAMIēSKI

The Chambers Dictionary is an example of a popular reference work whose editors do their best to cover as much vocabulary as possible. Like other dictionaries of this type published in print, Chambers pursues the aim of comprehensiveness of word-stock within a space constrained by physical dimensions of the book1. Although the task of total inclusiveness of vocabulary is impossible to achieve, the editors of the dictionary have had to meet the challenge by saving space. A careful look at the successive editions of Chambers can be revealing in this regard, as it may show how the editors have dealt with the problem of space constraints. We may put forward a hypothesis that the Chambers editors have always treated space with caution by saving it at any cost in order to make room for more vocabulary. The dictionary has numerous editions2, spanning over 140 years of undoubtedly a successful lexicographic tradition but I would like to pay special attention to the earliest ones in which the shape of the dictionary largely developed. I shall begin with the presentation of the first edition published for general use.

1. The 1872 edition Although the history of the Chambers Dictionary began with the publication of a small etymological dictionary for school-age students in

1 Apart from the print form, the dictionary is published on the Internet, namely its 9th edition (2003). 2 The latest edition is published as the 11th while the 1901 edition is referred to as the 1st one. Thus the nineteenth century editions, of which there were three, are excluded from this count by the publishers.

Towards the Efficient Use of Space in The Chambers Dictionary

25

1867, it was five years later in 1872 that the first dictionary for adult native users was issued by the Chambers publishers. Compiled by James Donald, the 1872 edition appeared under the title Chambers’s English Dictionary Pronouncing, Explanatory, and Etymological with Vocabularies of Scottish Words and Phrases, Americanisms, &c. The book measured 17 x 25.5 cm and had 952 pages. It covered approximately 44,000 entries. The volume of the dictionary was not impressive as compared to other dictionaries which were close to the ideal of a dictionary of the nineteenth century. One of them was a multi-volumed encyclopedic Imperial. On the American side, there were influential dictionaries: Webster and Worcester. Chambers was different from these large dictionaries not only in size but also in price and function: it was offered at a manageable price for people at large (McArthur 1998, 135). The social changes in Britain in the nineteenth century provided great impetus for the publication of the dictionary. In the latter half of the century the spread of universal education and general availability of books and newspapers generated the market of popular reference works for everybody (McArthur 1986, 134135). However, it had passed a few decades by the time the Chambers dictionary established its position in the British market of dictionaries for general audience. Although the 1872 edition was supposed to be “sufficiently full in its vocabulary for general use” (Donald 1872, v.), the layout of entries prevented the editor from coming near that goal. The entries were arranged in a strict alphabetical order, with as much as 70% of derivatives and compounds in the macrostructure (KamiĔski, 2009). The lemmata included motivated complex and compound items which in the previous edition (the 1867 edition) had been run on in the microstructure, for example: persuader, persuasibleness, persuasibility, persuasively, persuasiveness, wakefully, wakefulness. As a result of such an arrangement of entries, a great deal of space was wasted. Many of the lemmata of the 1872 edition were formed in a regular morphosemantic pattern with the meaning predictable on the basis of the meanings of the constituent morphemes, for example, nouns with the suffix –er denoting human beings: giber “One who utters gibes”, peruser “One who peruses”, perverter “One who perverts”, sapper “One who saps”, wanderer “One who wanders”; nouns with the suffix –ness, denoting a kind of state, for example ghastliness “The state of being ghastly”, giddiness “The state of being giddy”, sandiness “The state of being sandy”, wakefulness “The state of being wakeful”. A number of semantically transparent compounds were entered, for example bowbent

26

Chapter Three

“Bent like a bow”, giant-like “Like a giant”, giant-rude “Enormously rude or uncivil”, walking-stick “...a stick used in walking”, warehouseman “A man who keeps a warehouse”. Lemmata included verbal nouns with the suffix –ING, whose meaning was fairly predictable from the meanings of the constituent morphemes. The characteristic wording of such definitions was “(the) act of ...”, for example: bowling “The act of playing at bowls”, boxing “The act of fighting with the fists”, braiding “The act of making braids”, wakening “Act of one who wakens”, warehousing “The act of depositing goods in a warehouse”. What was typical of the 1872 edition was the provision of regular ED and ING participles, for example: bracing, braced, persuading, persuaded; waning, waned; wanting, wanted. They were inserted in the microstructure of the base verbs. In the following edition, the word-forms were deleted. In the spirit of developing science in the nineteenth century, the editor sacrificed space on encyclopedic information in definitions, for example: gimbal “A contrivance for suspending anything, as a compass in a ship, so as to keep it horizontal, consisting of a ring moving freely on an axis, while the thing suspended inside moves on an axis at right angles”; sand-pipes “Perpendicular cylindrical hollows, tapering to a point, occurring in chalk deposits, and so called from being usually filled with sand, gravel, or clay”; Waldenses “A sect of Christians inhabiting some Alpine valleys in Piedmont, and now professing Protestant principles ; the sect was founded about the close of the 12th century by Peter Waldo”.

What increased the volume of the dictionary was the inclusion of pictorial illustrations. They were a characteristic feature of encyclopedic dictionaries that flourished in the nineteenth century. In Chambers the illustrations appeared in the form of drawings of single items from technical and specialist fields; most frequently from heraldry, architecture, zoology, mechanics, botany, nautical field and music. Although this early edition exhibited a number of features which were at odds with the contemporary policy of saving space, the editor did try to use space efficiently. This is noticeable in the defining part of the dictionary, in which a great deal of space was saved by the use of brief analytical definitions, for example: boy “a male child”, brace “anything that draws together or holds tightly”, mad “troubled in mind”, madwort “long a popular remedy in canine madness”, pertain “to hold thoroughly”. Obviously, another space-saving type of definition involved a nearsynonym. Such definitions appeared in the form of either a single word

Towards the Efficient Use of Space in The Chambers Dictionary

27

preceded or not with an article, as in boy “a lad”, boyish “trifling”, brace “a bandage”, or a set of near-synonyms separated by commas, as in giddy “unsteady, dizzy”, pert “smart, pretty” or coordinated by the conjunction “or”, as in gibe “a scoff or taunt”, pertinent “fitting or appropriate”. Both types of definitions, i.e. the synonymous and the brief analytical ones, predominated in all the following editions. A space saving option was the use of abbreviations such as “&c” and “etc” (the latter replaced the former in the 1972 edition) to indicate an open class of objects (e.g. persuade “to influence successfully by argument, advice, &c”). A similar function was carried out by other abbreviations used in definitions, for example “esp” for “especially”, and in other parts of the entry, for example, diasystematic labels such as archit., bot., obs. instead of the whole words architecture, botany, obsolete respectively. In the 1872 edition the defining part of the entry looked like a solid block, with senses separated by colons. Such a presentation of senses had an obvious advantage of occupying less space than if it had been otherwise, i.e. if the senses had been placed in separate lines. On the other hand, it was difficult for the user to see clearly the boundaries between the senses. The clarity of the entry was improved by the use of special iconographic symbols as late as 2003. All the same, the block-like presentation of senses has been retained until now, with the colon being replaced with the semi-colon in the 1993 edition. Syntagmatic and paradigmatic information was largely neglected in the 1872 edition and there were no significant changes in the following editions, in which citations or examples of use were scarcely included. A characteristic feature of the 1872 edition was the use of a spacesaving curly bracket (see below), which was not new in the English lexicography by any means (for example it had been used in Bailey’s Universal Etymological English Dictionary in 1721). In Chambers the bracket enclosed spelling variants that figured as two successive headwords. It introduced a common part of the entry except for the information on pronunciation which was provided separately for each of the spelling variants. This is shown in the example below.

}

BRAHMAN, bräǯman, BRAHMIN, bräǯmin,

“n. A person of the highest or sacerdotal caste in the system of Hinduism. [From BRAHMA.]”.

28

Chapter Three

2. The 1898 edition The edition of 1898 was published under the editorship of Thomas Davidson. The full title emphasised a thorough treatment and comprehensiveness of the English word-stock: Chambers’s English Dictionary Pronouncing, Explanatory, Etymological. A New Library Dictionary of the English Language, Giving the Explanation, Pronunciation, and Etymology of Words, Together with Compound Phrases, Technical Terms in Use in the Arts and Sciences, Colloquial and Slang Words, Scotticisms, Americanisms, etc., Being a Treasury of English from the Sixteenth to the Twentieth Century. The book was larger than the previous one: it measured 18.5 x 28 cm, and had 301 pages more than the previous edition. The 1898 edition was a turning point in terms of the efficiency in the use of space. Although the number of main entries was fewer by 12,000 than in the previous edition, the actual number of words covered was much higher than this simple count might suggest. The main reason for it was that the editor employed severe nesting of derivatives and set expressions; thus, a great part of the word-stock was hidden in the microstructure. That the editor’s policy of nesting was excessive can be shown by the treatment of strawberry which was run on the entry for the first constituent element straw although there was no semantic connection between straw and strawberry. Despite the fact that nesting hindered the process of retrieval of lemmata, this technique was applied in all the following editions of Chambers, though with slightly less intensity observed in recent editions. According to the policy of nesting, a number of transparent items that had been main entered in the previous edition were now nested as undefined run-ons. There was no need to provide them with definitions as their meanings could be deduced from the meanings of their constituent morphemes. In this way the following derivatives were treated: boyishness, ghastliness, gibingly, giddily, giddiness, macadamisation, madly, madness, personification, perspicuously, perspicuousness, persuader, persuasibleness, persuasibility, persuasively, persuasiveness. Furthermore, in this edition space was also saved by conflating entries for zero-derivatives, such as wanton adj. and wanton n., and walk v.i. and walk n, as well as by deleting regular -ED and -ING participles that had been placed in the microstructure of the previous edition. On the other hand, the editor devoted more space on pictorial illustrations, adding a number of new ones. Some of them were added to accompany definitions taken from the previous edition, others were added

Towards the Efficient Use of Space in The Chambers Dictionary

29

together with new entries. Probably all the drawings from the 1872 edition were retained in 1898. Davidson added more encyclopedic information in definitions than his predecessor so as to suit the taste of the then users. The dictionary became a compendium of not only linguistic but also encyclopedic knowledge. The encyclopedic definitions sometimes consisted of several sentences, which made the article long.

3. The 1901 edition The 1901 edition of Chambers was compiled under the editorship of Thomas Davidson. Again the full title was very informative: Chambers’s Twentieth Century Dictionary of the English Language Pronouncing, Explanatory, Etymological, with Compound Phrases, Technical Terms in Use in the Arts and Sciences, Colloquialisms, Full Appendices, and Copiously Illustrated. As the previous editions for popular use, this new 20th century edition aimed at comprehensiveness of vocabulary. However, this time the publishers decided on a small size of the book (only 14.5 x 21 cm), retaining the majority of the information of the previous edition, which was an idea that contributed to the success of Chambers on the market of general purpose reference works. The book had about 50 pages fewer than the previous edition. Despite the desk-format of the book, it covered approximately 3.000 entries more than its predecessor, which was possible thanks to the use of the smaller typeface and thinner paper. Chambers was not the only publisher that embarked on the market of concise dictionaries for popular use. At the turn of the 20th century, several other publishing houses in Britain and the US (e.g. Collins, Cassell’s, Nuttall) competed in this business (Simpson 1990, 1960). Obviously, concise dictionaries could be compiled as long as there were large dictionaries to draw on, such as Webster, The Imperial, The Century, and the monumental OED. The changes aiming to fit the material of the previous edition into the desk-format of the 1901 edition consisted in the reduction of the number of drawings (for example, the drawings of the following objects were no longer in the dictionary: column, dumb-bells, gimbal, machicolation, Magdeburg hemispheres, merlon, offset, pilaster, reticulated leaf, unicorn, volute), the deletion of definitions of transparent derivatives (for example, gibbousness which had previously been defined as “the state of being gibbous”), and the reduction of the amount of encyclopedic information in definitions.

30

Chapter Three

The success of the 1901 edition resulted chiefly from the way space was treated. It is no wonder that the design of this edition was largely followed in later editions. However, there was still room for improvement.

4. The 1952 edition This Mid-Century edition was compiled under the editorship of William Geddie. Measuring 14 x 21.5 cm, the book was much the same in format as the previous one. It had approximately 150 pages more than the previous edition and covered 5,000 entries more. In this edition there were a few space-saving changes. In contrast to the previous edition, now the editor dispensed with drawings. A change towards the efficient use of space consisted in main-entering of combining forms. Thus, the compounds beginning with brachy- or macro- were nested under their first element. For example, under brachy- we could find brachycephalic, brachypterous, and under macro-: macrobiotic, macrocephalous, macrocosm, macrodactyl, macrology, macropod, macropterous, macroscian, macroscopic, macrospore. Similarly, prefixes were main-entered and the derivatives beginning with the prefixes were nested if their meaning was self-evident. For example, the following derivatives, all beginning with the prefix un-, were now nested under the prefix: unadvised “not advised”; unaffected “not affected or influenced”; un-American “not in accordance with American character, ideas, or feeling”; unanchor “to loose from anchorage”; unapproachable “out of reach, inaccessible”. Furthermore, some parts of encyclopedic information were excised from the definitions taken from the previous edition. For example, in the definition of walnut below, the deleted information includes a part of information on the taxonomy and the use of walnut. walnut “a genus (Juglans) comprising seven or eight species of beautiful trees of natural order Juglandaceœ — the wood of the common walnut is much used for furniture and gunstocks; its ripe fruit is one of the best of nuts, and yields an oil used by artists, &c.” (Davidson 1901); walnut “a genus (Juglans) of beautiful trees, some yielding valuable furniture wood” (Geddie 1952).

5. The following editions In the following editions there were no radical changes in the way of presentation of data as developed in the 1901 and 1952 editions. Space was saved by nesting of derivatives and set expressions, leaving self-

Towards the Efficient Use of Space in The Chambers Dictionary

31

explaining items undefined in the microstructure, omitting regularly inflected word-forms, maintaining the balance between linguistic and encyclopedic information in definitions, separating senses by colons or semi-colons, dispensing with pictorial illustrations in the main body. However, as mentioned earlier, the presentation of data by means of nesting had a definite drawback: it was not friendly to the user. Thus, to ease the process of look-up, nesting became less severe in the edition of 1993, in which some transparent derivatives were placed in the macrostructure instead of the microstructure of their base forms. It was the case with personal, personality, waitress, waken. Other changes towards user-friendliness were made in 2003 and 2006 and included the use of special iconographic devices in the form of squares and a diamond. The symbols improved the clarity of the entry structure, making it easier for the user to access information: the squares introduced separate sections with derivatives, compounds and set expressions while the diamonds introduced another lexical category of the headword (e.g. noun, adjective, etc.). On the other hand, while the dictionary gained in the clarity of presentation of data, it lost in space, which resulted in the book being larger.

6. Conclusions The evolution of the Chambers dictionary shows how the editors have attempted to devise an optimal method of presentation of data which would suit a general audience best. Although the 1872 edition of the dictionary had qualities which appealed to the average user, it was far from perfect in terms of saving space and the coverage of vocabulary had yet to be improved. In this edition, the strict alphabetical ordering of entries in particular was more of a hindrance than a help in reaching the aim of comprehensiveness of word-stock. Over years space was used more efficiently but this process was gradual. In the successive editions, the compilers rearranged entries using severe nesting of derivatives and set expressions and excluded redundant information. In all editions space was saved by the brevity and precision of definitions with frequent use of technical terminology. Furthermore, the editors have retained the traditional way of presentation of senses, separating them with colons or semi-colons instead of listing them in separate lines. One obvious drawback of such a presentation of information is that it may inhibit the process of retrieval. This is not a problem, though, in the electronic version of the Chambers which is available on-line.

32

Chapter Three

References KamiĔski, Mariusz. 2009. A history of The Chambers Dictionary. Unpublished PhD dissertation, Opole University. McArthur, Tom. 1986. Worlds of reference. Cambridge: University Press. —. 1998. Living words. Language, lexicography and the knowledge revolution. Exeter: University of Exeter Press. Simpson, John A. 1990. English lexicography after Johnson to 1945. In Wörterbücher Dictionaries Dictionnaires. An International Encyclopedia of Lexicography, 2 vol., ed. Franz J. Hausmann et al., 1953-1966. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.

Editions of The Chambers Dictionary, in chronological order Donald, James. 1867. Chambers’s Etymological Dictionary of the English Language. Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers. —. 1872. Chambers’s English Dictionary. Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers. Davidson, Thomas. 1898. Chambers’s English Dictionary. Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers. —. 1901. Chambers’s Twentieth Century Dictionary of the English Language. Edinburgh: W & R. Chambers, Limited. Geddie, William. 1952. Chambers’s Twentieth Century Dictionary. Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers, Ltd. —. 1959. Chambers’s Twentieth Century Dictionary. Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers, Ltd. Macdonald, Agnes. M. 1972. Chambers Twentieth Century Dictionary. Edinburgh: W & R Chambers, Ltd. —. 1977. Chambers Twentieth Century Dictionary. Edinburgh: W & R Chambers, Ltd. Kirkpatrick, Elizabeth. M. 1983. Chambers 20th Century Dictionary. Edinburgh: W & R Chambers Ltd. Schwarz, Catherine et al. 1988. Chambers English Dictionary. Edinburgh: W & R Chambers Limited. —. 1993. The Chambers Dictionary. Edinburgh: W & R Chambers Limited. —. 1998. The Chambers Dictionary. Edinburgh: Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. Brookes, Ian. 2003. The Chambers Dictionary. Edinburgh: Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. —. 2006. The Chambers Dictionary. Edinburgh: Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd.

Towards the Efficient Use of Space in The Chambers Dictionary

33

—. 2008. The Chambers Dictionary. Edinburgh: Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd.

Other dictionaries Annandale, Charles. 1882. The Imperial Dictionary. New Edition. 4 vol. London: Blackie and Son. Bailey, Nathaniel. 1721. The Universal Etymological English Dictionary. London: Thomas Cox. Murray, James A. et al. 1933. The Oxford English Dictionary. (OED). 12 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Webster, Noah. 1864. An American Dictionary of the English Language. Royal quarto edition. Revised by Chauncey A. Goodrich and Noah Porter. Springfield: G.&C. Merriam. Whitney, William D. 1889-1891. The Century Dictionary. An Encyclopedic Lexicon of the English Language. 6 vols. New York: The Century Co. Worcester, Joseph E. 1860. A Dictionary of the English Language. London: Sampson Low.

CHAPTER FOUR NAVIGATING DICTIONARY SPACE: THE FINDABILITY OF ENGLISH COLLOCATIONS IN A GENERAL LEARNER’S DICTIONARY (LDOCE4) AND SPECIAL-PURPOSE DICTIONARY OF COLLOCATIONS (OCD) ROBERT LEW AND MAGDALENA RADŁOWSKA

1. Introduction Accurate selection of collocations is one of the most troublesome, and most elusive, areas of lexical difficulty for foreign learners of English. Modern lexicography can offer assistance in this regard, as a growing degree of attention is paid to word combinations. This is no doubt partially due to the corpus revolution in lexicography, as modern corpus methods can provide fairly objective evidence on the cooccurence of lexical items. The other important factor is the growing awareness in lexicography of the importance of the dictionary users, their lexical needs and reference skills, which is reflected in the improved design of dictionaries. The present study undertakes to assess the success with which intermediate pre-university Polish learners of English are able to locate English collocations in two learners’ dictionaries, representing two different dictionary types. The first of these is a general dictionary for learners, Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English, fourth edition (LDOCE). The second dictionary is a special-purpose dictionary dealing specifically with collocations, the Oxford Collocations Dictionary (OCD). The collocations are classified into several types for the findability test. Numerous studies point to collocations being a highly problematic area for language learners. For example, Howarth (1996) noted collocational errors as an error type persistent in written compositions by advanced students of English. Channell (1980) asked advanced students to select

Navigating Dictionary Space

35

word combinations within a collocational grid. They gave many inappropriate answers, even though the words were very familiar to these students. Howarth (1998: 42) observs that learners’ difficulties lie chiefly in [the area of restricted collocations], since idioms and free collocations are, phraseologically, largely unproblematic. The greatest challenge lies in differentiating between combinations that are free and those which are somehow limited in substitutability.

He further adds that it is not just the learners but also many of the teachers who need substantial guidance in the area of collocation. There may be several reasons why collocation presents so much difficulty to language learners, but one nontrivial consideration is that the nature of collocation is probabilistic, statistical: no hard-and-fast rules can be given which learners could memorize or drill. Collocation certainly presents a serious challenge to language learners, but it is indispensable if the language is to approximate the native norm, be it in spoken or written production. Therefore, dictionaries should provide learners with a solid coverage of word combinations. The present study undertakes to assess the success with which intermediate pre-university Polish learners of English are able to locate English collocations in two learners’ dictionaries, representing two different dictionary types. The first of these is a general dictionary for learners, Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English, (LDOCE), in its fourth edition. The second dictionary is a special-purpose dictionary dealing specifically with collocations, the Oxford Collocations Dictionary (OCD).

2. Dictionaries and collocation 2.1. Collocational patterns In this study we focus on lexical, as opposed to grammatical, collocation, which in most common formulations are two-word pairings consisting of a N/Adj/Verb/Adv base and a collocator. The distinction is attributed to Hausmann (1985), who proposed to separate the combination of lexical items into Basis and Kollokator. The base is assumed to be the dominant word which carries most of the whole collocation’s meaning, whereas the collocator serves a subordinate function and is basedependent. For instance, in draw attention, the noun attention would be the base; the verb draw, the collocator.

36

Chapter Four

The popular BBI dictionary (Benson et al. 1998) identifies six specific types of lexical collocation: 1. V+N: fly a kite 2. Adj+N: weak tea 3. N+V: blood circulates 4. N1 of N2: a bouquet of flowers 5. Adv+Adj: strictly accurate 6. V+Adv: apologize humbly (BBI: xxx) The newer OCD includes all the above patterns but adds three more: 1. N+N: a light source 2. V+V: be free to choose 3. V+Adj: make/keep/declare sth safe (OCD 2002: ix) For the purpose of the present study, we will follow the above classification, that is the nine patterns of lexical collocations recognized in OCD.

2.2. Where to place collocations in dictionaries Based on his distinction into base and collocator, Hausmann proposed that the strategy of placing collocations in a dictionary should reflect its primary function: if a dictionary is aimed at helping with encoding, collocations should be placed at the base. In contrast, in a dictionary designed primarily for decoding, collocations should be entered at the collocator. Any collocations located in contradiction of the above principle were termed hidden by Hausmann. His approach has had a considerable impact on lexicographic practice. However, empirical research by Bogaards (1999) does not fully corroborate Hausmann’s neat distinction into base and collocator, which has also come under theoretical criticism (e.g. Siepmann 2005).

2.3. Coverage and placement of lexical collocations in OCD and LDOCE OCD is a dictionary specifically focusing on collocation. It claims (back cover, also Walker 2009) to cover some 150,000 collocations, grouped at approximately 9,000 entry words: nouns, verbs, and adjectives.

Navigating Dictionary Space

37

Most of the collocations covered were retrieved from the 100-millionword British National Corpus (OCD: viii-ix). Within entries, collocations are grouped according to sense (if any), then syntactic pattern, and within each pattern collocations may be further clustered based on semantic relatedness. Some collocations (though by no means all: OCD’s back cover claims 50,000 examples) are supplied with example sentences. Sense discriminators are given in cases where the editors saw a need to indicate differences between particular senses placed at the same headword. In general, OCD adopts Hausmann’s approach to the placement of lexical collocations. As it is primarily a dictionary for production (Walker 2009), collocations are on the whole arranged by Hausmann’s base. One consequence of this is that the verb and adjective entries in OCD do not include any noun items as collocates (Klotz 2003). LDOCE, not being a collocation-specific dictionary, deals with general language and provides information about meaning, spelling, pronunciation, grammar, etc. Collocation is but one of many aspects treated in the dictionary. The main source of words for LDOCE (in its 4th edition) had been the then 300-million- word Longman Corpus Network (LDOCE: x). In the dictionary, collocations are illustrated in coloured boxes (mainly blue) and they are incorporated into examples drawn from the corpus. Additionally, many collocations are provided with glosses, e.g: welcome news (= good news) (LDOCE: 1105), and this, as we shall see, appears to be significant when it comes to aiding comprehension. Collocations tend to be placed at the base, but there are obviously many hidden collocations. The dictionary does not specify the number of collocations covered, but gives a total for all word combinations as 220,000 (LDOCE back cover). Unlike OCD, LDOCE is not exclusively a production dictionary: it is also intended to offer assistance in reception, and this has consequences for the placement of collocations. For example, if we look at the headword draw verb, we will see that LDOCE provides a variety of combinations for this entry, such as: draw attention, draw blood etc., yet it does not include them at the noun base (LDOCE 2003: 474).

38

Chapter Four

3. The study 3.1. Aim, design and procedure The aim of the study was to see which of the two dictionaries, OCD or LDOCE, would serve Polish Secondary School learners better on a task of supplying missing collocations in sentences. Eigthteen students participated, all attending the 1st Secondary School in Goleniów. They were all native speakers of Polish, 18 and 19 years old, soon to take their secondary school leaving exam (matura). They attended English classes five times a week for 45 minutes. Students were requested to supply missing words in 13 gapped sentences in a way that would fit the context. The task was done with the assistance of dictionary booklets, consisting of dictionary entries relevant for the test items. There were two versions of the booklets: nine subjects were supplied with entries from the OCD, the other nine from LDOCE. To explain how they should go about the task, subjects were provided with one example that contained two sentences. The first sentence was formulated in Polish, and the second one was its partial English translation with a gap to be filled in (see Appendix 1). The test proper consisted of 13 items representing 9 different types of lexical collocations: V+N, Adj+N, N+V, N+N, Adv+Adj, V+Adj, V+V, V+Adv, N1 of N2 (see section 0). We made sure that all of the tested collocations were covered by both OCD and LDOCE. Students were supplied with a brief instruction on how to use each dictionary. Then, the two versions of dictionary booklets (one with OCD entries, the other with LDOCE entries) were distributed. The time assigned to carry out the task was limited to 25 minutes. The session was held on January 31, 2008. During the test quite a few participants appeared to be confused by some items, and finding the correct answer posed a problem for them, despite their relatively high level. This uderscores the difficulty of collocation for learners. At the scoring stage, one point was granted for each correctly given collocation, bringing the maximum total score to 13. Acceptable item combinations are given in the Answer Sheet (see Appendix 2).

Navigating Dictionary Space

39

3.2. Results 3.2.1. Overall success rates In the OCD group, the maximum individual score was 12 points out of 13 (92%), the lowest score was 3 (23%), and the group mean was 6.33 (49%). In the LDOCE group, two subjects scored 100% (13 points), while the minimum score was 1 (8%). The overall group mean was 8.89 (68%). Compared with OCD users, LDOCE users scored higher by 2.56 points, a difference of 39% (or 19 percentage points). In order to assess the difference, a 1-Way ANOVA was computed with the absolute score as the dependent variable and dictionary as categorical predictor (with two levels: OCD and LDOCE). The difference turned out not to be statistically significant (F(1,16)=2.39, p=0.14, n.s.). Thus, we cannot claim with confidence that LDOCE is generally more helpful. Nevertheless, given the small sample size and the promising difference between the means, there is a real possibility that if a larger sample of subjects had been investigated, the difference would have reached significance. To assess this likelihood, we conducted a power analysis for this ANOVA (the power of a test reflects the probability of detecting a real population difference from a sample). At alpha=0.05, observed power of our test turned out to be a low 0.31, no doubt due to a small sample size and large in-group variation. Clearly, then, further research should be carried out on a larger sample. 3.2.2. Success rates by collocation pattern Figure 1 below gives the success rates broken down by collocation type and dictionary. Out of the nine collocation patterns, LDOCE scored higher for seven types, there was a tie for the Adv+Adj type, and OCD outperformed LDOCE in the one V+V pattern. Let us now examine some of these patterns.

40

Chapter Four

Navigating Dictionary Space

41

3.3. A closer look at two items Within the limited space available here, we shall only examine two specific items: one where there was a clear difference between OCD and LDOCE, and one where the two dictionaries performed similarly. Throw light on sth (V+N) None of the OCD users were able to provide an acceptable answer for the following, metaphorical, V+N collocation: 1. Odkrycia te RZUCAJĄ Ğwiatło na kwestiĊ opracowania szczepionki przeciw AIDS. These discoveries ……………. light on the development of an AIDS vaccine. Below we give partial entries for the noun light from OCD and LDOCE. OCD VERB + LIGHT have Have you got enough light for reading? | generate, produce | cast, emit, give (out), provide, shed light emitted by a star | be bathed in | be sensitive to

LDOCE 11 throw / shed / cast light on sth to provide new information that makes a difficult subject or problem easier to understand: Melanie was able to shed some light on the situation. ŇThese discoveries may throw new light on the origins of the universe.

The complete OCD entry for light is actually very long, with a large number of potential items. However, it was not the length that seemed to cause our subjects greatest trouble. They appeared to have had no problems getting to the relevant section (VERB + LIGHT), but—once there—they often chose an inappropriate verb, all too often going for give, perhaps because it is a very familiar word. Note that give is presented in the same collocational string in the OCD article as the correct collocates (shed or cast), which implies that participants were looking for the appropriate collocator (VERB), but they did not get it right all the way. In contrast, LDOCE users had much better success, with 5 correct collocations out of 9. Here, LDOCE provides a brief definition and illustrates the possible combinations in the examples, which apparently

42

Chapter Four

went a long way towards helping our subjects, and made a positive difference relative to OCD. Vitally important (Adv+Adj) For this item, both dictionaries scored success rates of 78%, with seven out of nine subjects in each group giving correct answers. Here is the item as it appeared in the test: 8. Zawód prawnika jest dla niego NIEZWYKLE waĪny. * (do not use VERY or MOST) A career in law is …………… important for him. Such a high success rate implies that the dictionaries must have done something right in presenting the data. Let us, then, take a look at the two entries: OCD

LDOCE

important adj. VERBS be, seem | become | remain | make sth This is what makes our work so important. | believe sth, consider sth, deem sth, regard sth as, see sth as, think sth These ideas are considered enormously important. ADV. critically, crucially, enormously, especially, extremely, hugely, most, particularly, really, terribly, very, vitally This is most important: you must deliver the letter to Johnson himself. | increasingly | doubly | fairly, quite | equally These two factors are equally important. | internationally, regionally an internationally important site for these rare birds | economically, functionally, historically, politically, strategically historically important buildings

im•por•tant S1 W1 /…/ adj 1 an important event, decision, problem etc has a big effect or influence on people’s lives or on events in the future: a very important meeting | The accident taught him an important lesson. | Happiness is more important than money. | ‘What did you say?’ ‘Oh, nothing important.’ | it is important (to do sth) It’s important to explain the procedure to the patient. | It’s vitally important that you understand the danger.

Navigating Dictionary Space

43

It may at first be somewhat puzzling that subjects in the two groups performed similarly despite the large number of (undiscriminated!) collocates in the OCD. What seems to be key is that in this case most items given under the ADV section are actually acceptable, so semantic distinctions between the collocates are not that important. We might conclude, then, that the success of dictionary users with this item is not so much due to the satisfactory lexicographic treatment, but rather to the fact that this item was not all that difficult to get right.

3.4. What makes a successful entry? For lack of space, we only discuss a couple of items above, but we have examined closely all of the entries tested, looking at variation in length, item grouping, sense discrimination and typography in search of clues to successful presentation of collocation. We find that most problems are likely to have stemmed from lack of comprehension: too often, subjects did not understand the words, especially those which are more sophisticated and less frequent. Example sentences can be very helpful, but in neither dictionary are they provided for every single combination, probably for reasons of space. What makes LDOCE different is its systematic attempt to gloss the less obvious collocates when they are presented. These short definitions are supplied in simple vocabulary that apparently does a good job of conveying meaning and discriminating between various collocates. The definitions are further supported with examples. In contrast, OCD has much less semantic indication of meaning, and fewer examples. This, plus a large supply of combinations, can lead to confusion. We thus conclude that the key to success lies in semantic information and natural context being presented in a way that is accessible and adapted to language learners’ needs. This may be beneficial in decoding and encoding alike.

4. Conclusion Our results show that even fairly advanced learners had experienced serious problems with locating and selecting appropriate collocations. This suggests that learners are not sufficiently aware of the issues of collocational word pairings, and this is something they should be made aware of. The differences in performance noted in our study can most likely be attributed to two factors. Firstly, semantic explanation, when present,

44

Chapter Four

provides assistance in assuring that the right collocational item has been found. Secondly, example sentences and phrases can be used as a check that appropriate collocations have been located. These two elements are missing from the special-purpose dictionary of collocations, and it appears that this lexicographic decision negatively affects the findability of items. Our conclusions coincide quite closely with those in Alonso-Ramos (2008), who investigated 25 learners of Spanish as a second language.

References Alonso Ramos, Margarita. 2008. Papel de los diccionarios de colocaciones en la enseñanza de español como L2. In Proceedings of the XIII EURALEX International Congress, ed. Bernal, Elisenda and Janet DeCesaris, 1215-1230, Barcelona: Universitat Pompeu Fabra. Bogaards, Paul. 1999. Access structures of learners’ dictionaries. In The Perfect Learners’ Dictionary, Lexicographica Series Maior 95, ed. Herbst, Thomas and Kerstin Popp, 113-130. Tübingen: Niemeyer. Channell, Joanna. 1980. Applying semantic theory to vocabulary teaching. English Language Teaching Journal 35: 115-22. Hausmann, Franz Josef. 1989. Le dictionnaire de collocations. In Wörterbücher/ Dictionaries/Dictionnaires, Vol. 1, ed. Hausmann Franz Josef, Oskar Reichmann, Herbert Ernst Wiegand, and Ladislav Zgusta, 1010-1019, Berlin and New York: Walter de Gruyter. Howarth, Peter. 1996. Phraseology in English academic writing. Some implications for language learning and dictionary making. Tübingen: Niemeyer. —. 1998. Phraseology and second language proficiency. Applied Linguistics 19, 1: 24-44. Klotz, Michael. 2003. Review of Oxford Collocations Dictionary for Students of English. International Journal of Lexicography 16, 1: 5761. Siepmann, Dirk. 2005. Collocation, colligation and encoding dictionaries. Part I: lexicological aspects. International Journal of Lexicography 18, 4: 409-443. Walker, Crayton. 2009. The treatment of collocation by learners’ dictionaries, collocational dictionaries and dictionaries of Business English. International Journal of Lexicography. 22, 3: 281-299

Navigating Dictionary Space

45

Dictionaries Benson, Morton, Evelyn Benson, and Robert Ilson. 1998 [1986]. The BBI Dictionary of English Word Combinations. PoznaĔ: Omnibus. (BBI) Bullon, Stephen. 2003 [1978]. Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English. (4th edition.) Harlow, Essex: Longman. (LDOCE) Crowther, Jonathan, Sheila Dignen, and Diana Lea. 2002. Oxford Collocations Dictionary for Students of English. Oxford: Oxford University Press. (OCD)

46

Chapter Four

Appendices Appendix 1. Collocation supply test Z pomocą słownika, wstaw brakujące słowa tak, by naturalnie łączyły siĊ z resztą słów. W niektórych przykładach moĪliwych jest kilka odpowiedzi. Wybierz jedną z nich. Przykład: Mary zamierza ZŁOĩYû wizytĊ swoim starym znajomym. Mary is going to .....pay.....a visit to her old friends. 1. Odkrycia te RZUCAJĄ Ğwiatło na kwestiĊ opracowania szczepionki przeciw AIDS. These discoveries ……………. light on the development of an AIDS vaccine. 2. Byli zajĊci, wiĊc wyszłam. Nie chciałam NADUĩYWAû goĞcinnoĞci. They were busy, so I left. I didn’t want to …………… my welcome. 3. Nie wolno ci przekroczyü granicy bez AKTUALNEGO paszportu. You are not allowed to cross the border without a …………… passport. 4. Niektóre DRZEMIĄCE wulkany przejawiały ostatnio oznaki aktywnoĞci. Some …………… volcanoes have recently shown signs of eruption. 5. Samolot STARTUJE o 11:00 po południu. The plane …………… at 11:00 p.m. 6. Meggie kolekcjonuje stare WYCINKI gazet dotyczące motocykli. Maggie collects old newspaper …………… about motorcycles. 7. Wszyscy wiedzą, Īe Lucy jest inteligentną i WYSOCE elokwentną kobietą. * (do not use VERY) Everybody knows that Lucy is an intelligent and …………… articulate woman. 8. Zawód prawnika jest dla niego NIEZWYKLE waĪny. * (do not use VERY or MOST) A career in law is …………… important for him. 9. Trzy miesiące temu ława przysiĊgłych UZNAŁA go winnym morderstwa młodego chłopca. Three months ago the jury …………… him guilty of the murder of a young boy. 10. Jackowi bĊdzie miło słyszeü, Īe wygrał bilet na koncert swojego ulubionego zespołu rockowego. Jack will be …………… to hear that he has won a ticket for the concert of his favourite rock group. 11. SpaliĞmy DOBRZE, bo łóĪko było naprawdĊ wygodne. * (do not use WELL) We slept …………… because the bed was really comfortable. 12. Wczoraj siĊ pokłócili. GWAŁTOWNIE gestykulując, Eddie starał siĊ wytłumaczyü swoje zachowanie. They had a quarrel yesterday. Gesticulating ……………, Eddie was trying to explain his behaviour. 13. WciąĪ jest PROMYK nadziei, Īe porwane dziecko odnajdzie siĊ Īywe. There is still a …………… of hope that the kidnapped child will be found alive.

Navigating Dictionary Space

47

Appendix 2. Answers accepted 1. shed / throw / cast light on sth 2. outstay / overstay your welcome 3. valid passport 4. dormant volcanoes 5. plane takes off 6. newspaper clippings / cuttings 7. highly articulate 8. vitally / critically / crucially / enormously / especially / extremely / hugely / particularly / really / terribly important 9. found / deemed him guilty 10. be pleased to / be delighted to / be glad to / be gratified to / hear 11. slept soundly / properly 12. gesticulating wildly 13. ray / glimmer / spark / flicker of hope

CHAPTER FIVE SPACE-SAVING DEVICES IN ABRIDGED DICTIONARIES: AMERICAN HERITAGE COLLEGE DICTIONARY (2004) AS A TEST CASE MIROSŁAWA PODHAJECKA

1. Introduction The present paper focuses on space-saving devices in abridged dictionaries, that is shortened versions of larger dictionaries in a dictionary family (cf. Ilson 1986). Even though space is at a high premium in such dictionaries, particularly paper ones, little is known about practical ways of saving it. Therefore, following a brief outline of standard methods used for text condensation in English lexicography, I take the American Heritage College Dictionary (fourth edition, 2004, hereafter AHCD) as a test case. In doing so, I list all the entries from two selected letter sections—K and V—of the parent dictionary, i.e., the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (fourth edition, 2000, hereafter AHD), and compare them with those in the corresponding parts of the abridged dictionary. Then I look at the microstructure of the entries, tracing changes in form and content, to finally go on to the analysis of middle matter. The purpose of this study is threefold: (1) to find out what spacesaving devices have been applied in AHCD; (2) to determine dissimilarities between text condensation methods used in different parts of the alphabet; and (3) to discover any inconsistencies therein. It may be worthy of mention that my sampling technique differs from standard methods recommended in dictionary research (Coleman and Ogilvie 2009), but it seemed more appropriate for a consistent treatment of lemmas omitted and clustered. Nonetheless, I hope that my results are reliable and significant statistically.

Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries

49

2. Outline of space-saving techniques The concept of “space” has always been of great importance in lexicography, so it should not be surprising that various devices and strategies have been employed to conserve space in dictionaries (Lew in press). Textual condensation, or text compression, does not consist in physically “squashing” the text, but in finding ways to represent the original text structure in a more restricted form (cf. Wiegand 1997; Nielsen 2002; Prinsloo and Schryver 2002; Sterkenburg 2003; Hausmann and Wiegand 2003; Gouws 2007). This is achieved, inter alia, by shortening, abbreviating, omitting, shifting, substituting, summarizing or embedding (Wiegand 1997, 333). In other words, specific parts of the entry are omitted, shortened, moved or replaced by the so-called ordering devices (e.g., tilde ~; virgule /; hyphen -; equal sign =; question mark ?; ellipses …; etc.). Obviously, the whole process should be carried out in a way that guarantees the user a successful consultation of the dictionary, and the conventions need to be explained in the user’s guide. Two common condensation strategies are nesting, i.e., grouping sublemmas in a non-alphabetical order, and niching, i.e., clustering sublemmas alphabetically, but, if used uncritically, they can impede successful access to lexicographic information (Gouws 2007, 55). Considering one type of sublemmas, derivatives are viewed as semantically opaque, so they often receive restricted treatment, but this assumption can lead to errors. For example, will every user of the college dictionary be able to point to the difference between vehemence and vehemency, despite the definition of the main lemma vehement? Potential disadvantages notwithstanding, text condensation has become a feature of macro- and microstructure—and apparently other dictionary components, such as front, middle and back matter—in most modern dictionaries. In fact, according to Wiegand (2006, 133), “all features of article texts which may be regarded as being genuinely lexicographic may be explained as the results of processes of textual condensation”. To tackle this issue comprehensively, he proposes a theoretical draft which is expected (1) to enable the calculation of the degree of textual condensation in a strictly mathematical sense; (2) to enable the development of a formula for the calculation of the user-friendliness of dictionaries; and, ultimately, (3) to make the writing of dictionary articles teachable (Wiegand 1996, 133-135). However, since the draft, as has indeed been admitted by its author, is a complex scheme, I analyze the condensation techniques in relation to the basic lexicographic structures, i.e., macrostructure, microstructure and middle matter.

50

Chapter Five

3. Analysis of space-saving techniques in AHCD 3.1. Macrostructure Dictionaries aimed at native speakers seek to provide full coverage to the lexicon in general use and also substantial coverage of specialized lexicons (Landau 2001, 30). However, while unabridged dictionaries may include about 500,000 entries (250,000 in a single volume), college dictionaries—due to space restrictions—cover 160,000-180,000 entries. According to calculations by Barnhart (2003, 286), an editor of a college dictionary who would like to include complete vocabulary would only have a few words to define each lemma. No wonder lexicographers are forced to make a selection of words that go into the dictionary, i.e., outer selection, and a selection of information categories that are put into the entry, i.e., inner selection. Even reference works which belong to the same genres differ greatly in that respect, which becomes clear when one compares AHCD with another popular college dictionary, MerriamWebster’s Collegiate Dictionary (now in its 11th edition). No counts of AHCD wordlist are available, but Staffel, in her online review, claims the dictionary “has more than 200,000 definitions and biographical and geographical notes”ʊcontrary to their British cousins, American dictionaries are traditionally encyclopedic reference worksʊtightly packed into a single volume. Since “definitions” can refer here both to the number of lemmas as well as senses, all the more because “almost anything in bold type can count as an entry” (Landau 2001: 31), I anticipated that the wordlist of the parent dictionary must have been shortened considerably. Nonetheless, it is clearly not the case, because 173 entries have been excluded in K, and 220 entries in V, which accounts for merely 14% of each letter section. Thus, AHCD includes roughly 86% of the entries in AHD. Looking at the macrostructure, one finds it difficult to explain why specific lemmas have been treated as superfluous. For instance, some of the proper nouns omitted are significant culturally, and, moreover, they have fairly high frequency (F) in the Corpus of Contemporary American English (e.g., Garry Kasparov F49, Kasparov F227; Elia Kazan F62 (Kazan used alone is a homograph); Stanley Kubrick F150, Kubrick F363; Antonio Vivaldi F7, Vivaldi F254). By contrast, a number of lemmas kept in AHCD are not fully justified, at least from the corpus perspective (e.g., kundalini F50, virtuosa F11, vulnerary F1, Kalisz F0), so it is not quite clear what criteria for the outer selection—qualitative, quantitative or based on intuitive judgment—were adopted by AHCD lexicographers.

Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries

51

Some decisions are clearly subjective, e.g., replacing Kim Il Sung (F215) with Kim Dae Jung (F103) must be perceived primarily in terms of “political correctness”.

3.2. Microstructure The microstructure of an entry is a set of linearly ordered information items following the lemma. As the standard entry is a rich inventory of information categories, there are also many alternatives as to what could be condensed. As many as 616 entries in K and 731 entries in V have not been changed (etymologies excluded), which is equivalent to approximately 50% of the entries in the respective letter sections. In other cases, various elements are omitted: labels, abbreviations, spelling variants, inflectional forms, senses, quotations, idioms, cross-references, run-ons, and even commas between clauses. Some of these elements become shortened or modified, but the strategies which are most effective in condensing text are deleting senses and shortening definitions as well as deleting and truncating illustrative quotations. Interestingly, while the same techniques are applied in both letter sections, there are some quantitative differences between them. Space-saving strategy in microstructure Introducing no changes Omitting labels Omitting abbreviations Omitting variants Omitting inflectional forms Omitting senses Shortening definitions Modifying definitions Omitting illustrative quotations Shortening illustrative quotations Omitting idioms Omitting run-ons Niching run-ons Omitting cross-references

Letter section K (no. of entries) 616/1112 (55%) 4 25 15 2 27 261 134 49 6 1 12 5 28

Letter section V (no. of entries) 731/1455 (50%) 8 27 5 2 36 224 157 135 23 3 21 11 88

52

Chapter Five

3.2.1. Labels 4 labels are removed from K and 8 from V. While it is clear why labels have been dropped in the case of lemmas whose usage is self-evident (Kanaka Hawaii ‘A Hawaiian of Polynesian descent; a Native Hawaiian’), the deletion of labels purely for the purpose of space saving does not seem well-grounded (verruca Medicine, Biology). 3.2.2. Abbreviations 25 abbreviations in K and 27 abbreviations in V have been excluded. These deletions concerns primarily units of measures (kilocalorie or kcal, kiloliter or kl, kilohertz or KHz), as well as various divisions or personnel members (King’s Counsel or KC, vice president or VP; Vietcong or VC). 3.2.3. Variants 15 variants are omitted in K and only 5 in V. Examples include Karlovy Vary (Carlsbad), Kiritimati (Christmas Island) or kyack (kiack). In a few cases, nicknames are also treated as variants, as in Kennedy, John Fitzgerald (known as “Jack”), Koussevitzky, Sergei Aleksandrovich (known as “Serge”) or Vanderbilt, Cornelius (known as “Commodore Vanderbilt”). Categorizing variants I considered only those forms which are treated as variants in AHD, but many of the crossreferences in AHD, ultimately removed from AHCD, in fact have such a status, e.g. vacuum bottle (vacuum flask) or venture capital (risk capital). 3.2.4. Inflectional forms Inflectional forms in AHD are always provided in full (e.g., kib·bled, kib·bling, kib·bles), but in AHCD they are often embedded (e.g., -bled, bling, -bles). In the case of short words, the inflectional forms are still given in full, as in kedge (kedged, kedging, kedges). Less consistent is the treatment of irregular word-forms. For example, while knew is given the status of main lemma, the past tense form knelt is only recorded in kneel. Similarly, vagi (pl. of vaguus) is treated as the main lemma, but vacua (pl. of vacuum) is not.

Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries

53

3.2.5. Definitions In the letter section K, 261 definitions are shortened, 134 definitions are modified, and senses have been omitted or combined in 27 entries (sometimes more than 1 per entry). The situation in V is somewhat different, i.e., 224 entries have definitions shortened, 157ʊmodified, and senses are removed from 36 entries (sometimes more than 1 per entry). When it comes to the shortening procedure, various parts of definitions, apparently regarded as less important, are removed. They range from a word, to a clause, to a complex sentence, and must have been preceded by a careful assessment of possible space gains (especiallyĺ esp., capable of living ĺ able to live; in conjunction ĺ jointly; that has ĺ having; a person ĺ one; by means of ĺ using, the conclusion of a war ĺ war’s end, etc.). A few examples are shown below (pronunciations excluded). The passages in bold signify the truncated parts of definitions, whereas the items in italics signify elements introduced. Venetian glass n. A fine, often colored and ornamented glassware made in or near Venice, Italy. kwashiorkor n. Severe protein malnutrition, especially [esp.] in children after weaning, marked by lethargy, growth retardation, anemia, edema, potbelly, skin depigmentation, and hair loss or change in hair color. Kalahari A desert plateau region of southern [S] Botswana, eastern [E] Namibia, and western [W] South Africa. Fed by seasonal rains, it has sandy soil and supports grass and other vegetation in all but the extreme southwestern corner.

In the case of writers, poets, playwrights, etc., only one work is usually allowed into AHCD, but not necessarily the most famous one. For example, the decision to delete the title of Milan Kundera’s mostrecognizable book, “The unbearable lightness of being” (1984), is at best debatable. In the definitions of place names, historical information is omitted most frequently. Ka·li·nin·grad Formerly Köningsberg A city of extreme western [W] Russia on the Baltic Sea near the Polish border. It was founded in 1255 by the Teutonic Knights [in 1255] and joined the Hanseatic League in 1340. Called Königsberg, it was an important Prussian city and the birthplace of Immanuel Kant (1724). Transferred to the USSR in 1945, it was renamed Kaliningrad in 1946. Population [Pop.]: 413,491.

54

Chapter Five

Dividing meanings into senses increases the size of the dictionary, so the reverse operation consists in deleting the number of senses to decrease the use of space. This technique has another advantage, because excluding a sense often means cutting off a quotation illustrating it. The changes in AHCD, however, are occasionally more related to stylistic shape than space savings, so longer definitions can replace shorter ones. kuru n. A fatal progressive, degenerative neurological disease caused by a slow-acting virus, [A transmissible spongiform encepalopathy] found in certain peoples of New Guinea [that is often attributed to prion infection and thought to be] and transmitted by cannibalism [cannibalistic ritual practices].

There are some inconsistencies when it comes to the use of abbreviations. For example, there are certain keywords, e.g., directions, numbers, geographical formations or nationalities, which are regularly shortened in AHCD (south, southern ĺ S; fifteenth ĺ 15th; river ĺ R, island ĺ I; American ĺ Amer., US). Amazingly, in quite a number of entries this strategy has been overlooked (see question marks below). Kongo Inflected forms: pl. Kongo or Kon·gos 1. A member of a people living in west[?]-central Africa along the lower Congo River [?]. 2. A Bantu language of the Kongo used as [,] a lingua franca in the southern [?] Republic of the Congo, the western [?] Democratic Republic of the Congo (formerly Zaire), and northern [?] Angola. Vandal n. 1. vandal One who willfully or maliciously defaces or destroys public or private property. 2. A member of a Germanic people that overran Gaul, Spain, and northern [?] Africa in the fourth [?] and fifth [?] centuries A.D. and sacked Rome in 455. Vietnam War A protracted military conflict (1954–1975) between the Communist forces of North Vietnam supported by China and the Soviet Union [?] and the non-Communist forces of South Vietnam supported by the United States [?].

By contrast, sometimes the density of information results in ambiguity, as in Kahoolawe ‘An island of S-central HI SW of Maui’, where HI has to be decoded as “Hawaii” and SW as “southwest of”. Interestingly, several lexicographic errors have been corrected in AHCD (e.g., kelpie, keystroke, killer whale), including wrong population provided by AHD (e.g., Kingston, Vacaville, Vancouver).

Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries

55

kel·pie n. Any of a[n Austrian] breed of sheepdog originating in Australia (sic!). key·stroke n. A stroke of a key, as on a word processor (sic!) [computer keyboard]. key`stroke` —v. King·ston […] 2. The capital of Jamaica, in the southeast [SE] part of the island on the Caribbean Sea. It was founded c. 1692 and became the capital in 1872. Population [Pop]: 103,962 (sic!). [586, 930]

3.2.6. Illustrative quotations Illustrative quotations, employed either for the purpose of meaning discrimination or illustrating usage, take up a lot of space. It comes as little surprise that many are ultimately shortened or removed from AHCD. The treatment of quotations, however, is fairly unequal in the two letters under analysis, because quotations are omitted in 49 entries in K, and in as many as 135 entries in V. They are also shortened in 6 entries in K, and in 23 entries in V. kamikaze 1. A Japanese pilot trained in World War II to make a suicidal crash attack, especially [esp.] upon a ship. 2. An airplane loaded with explosives to be piloted in a suicide attack. 3. Slang An extremely reckless person who seems to court death. adj. 1. Of or relating to a suicidal air attack: a kamikaze mission. 2. Slang So reckless in behavior or actions as to be suicidal: kamikaze hot rodders.

As AHD includes many full-sentence citations by well-known people, this has turned out to be an easy target for AHCD lexicographers. As a result, in most cases both the quotation and its author have been omitted. kitsch 1. Sentimentality or vulgar, often pretentious bad taste, especially [esp.] in the arts: “When money tries to buy beauty it tends to purchase a kind of courteous kitsch” (William H. Gass). 2. An example or examples of kitsch. Ƈ adj. Of, being, or characterized by kitsch: “The kitsch kitchen … has aqua-and-white gingham curtains and rubber duck-yellow walls painted in a fried-egg motif” (Suzanne Cassidy, New York Times 8/30/93).

3.2.7. Sub-lemmas The clustering of sublemmas inside the entry may be done for reasons of space saving, structure display or by sheer necessity, e.g., in the case of multiword units, like idioms, which are otherwise difficult to look up

56

Chapter Five

(Hausmann and Wiegand 2003, 238). The exclusion of sublemmas in AHCD is insignificant, as no phrasal verbs have been omitted, and idioms are removed from 1 entry of K, and 3 entries of V. For example, the idiom section of knock in AHD includes have it knocked, knock cold, knock dead, knock it off, knock (oneself) out, knock out of the box and knock the/someone’s socks off. Only knock cold, knock dead and knock it off are kept in AHCD, plus a newcomer, knock for a loop. One type of sublemmas is run-ons (usually derivatives), whose treatment in the abridgement process is usually twofold, i.e., rare sublemmas are omitted, and main lemmas in the parent dictionary become sublemmas in the abridged dictionary. This dual strategy has indeed been noticed in AHCD: 12 run-ons are omitted in K and 21 in V, while at the same time 5 new run-ons are added to K and 11ʊto V. None of the newly-added derivatives is really new to the dictionary, all of them being either main lemmas in AHD (e.g., kineticism) or run-ons to main lemmas omitted (e.g., kineticist). The ordering of run-ons is alphabetical, which illustrates niching rather than nesting. 3.2.8. Cross-references The cross-referencing structure in AHD is rich, which is another area for the use of space-saving devices. Nonetheless, there is a discrepancy between the analyzed letters, i.e., cross-references have been removed from 28 entries in K, whereas in Vʊfrom as many as 88. Sometimes the exclusion of cross-references helps condense the text fairly efficiently (cf. kerosene Also called coal oil, lamp oil; kohlrabi Also called turnip cabbage; venomous See synonyms at poisonous).

3.3 Middle matter Space-saving measures have also been applied in middle matter, which encompasses additional usage notes, i.e., Regional Notes, Usage Notes, Word Histories, Synonym Notes and (infrequent) Our Living Language sections. Taken together, 7 of these notes are omitted in K and 14 in V, 6 changed in both K and V, and 1 added to K. It should be noted that the pictures on the margin, however interesting, are not treated here as components of middle matter.

Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries

Space-saving strategy in middle matter Omitting Regional Note Shortening Regional Note Omitting Usage Note Shortening Usage Note Omitting Word History Shortening Word History Omitting Synonym Note Shortening Synonym Note

Letter section K 1 1 2 3 2 2 2 -

57

Letter section V 1 1 1 3 4 1 8 1

While AHCD wants to retain the same profile as its parent dictionary, excluding and shortening notes must be treated as a successful spacesaving technique, which helped conserve space for 2900 words of running text. Still, this is only a small proportion of what can be achieved by omitting lemmas; if we assume that an average entry includes 40 words, the text condensation techniques in middle matter are equivalent to removing 72 entries (see section 3.1.).

3. Conclusions As results from my study, there are apparent differences both in the macrostructure and microstructure of the examined reference works. Speaking of the macrostructure, AHCD omits 14% of the entries in AHD, although the decisions concerning outer selection may sometimes be questionable. As to the microstructure, AHCD employs most text condensation methods, but favours the shortening and modifying of definitions and the exclusion of illustrative examples. Less frequent is omitting senses, cross-references, variants or abbreviations, niching being a strategy relatively infrequently resorted to. Some of the measures applied in both letter sections are divergent—in more K entries definitions are shortened, while omitting and truncating quotations is the dominant strategy in V—but the results obtained must be roughly comparable in terms of space conserved. Consequently, as the textual density of information in AHCD exceeds that in AHD, the purpose of dictionary abridgement has been achieved, and thanks to the concise defining style, better suited for an abridged dictionary, the entries in AHCD are viewed as more succinct and readable. Somewhat unexpectedly, some text condensation devices, like abbreviating keywords, are not applied fully consistently, which suggests

58

Chapter Five

that the lexicographers’ efforts have not always been well coordinated. Occasionally, AHCD entries are modified stylistically rather than shortened, so space saving is by no means the only purpose of dictionary abridgement. With obvious AHD mistakes corrected and accurate factual information provided, the abridged dictionary turns out to be an effective means of verifying and updating the material of the parent dictionary.

References AHCD = The American Heritage College Dictionary. 2004. Fourth edition. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin. AHD = The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language. 2000. Fourth edition. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin. BaĔski, Piotr and Beata Wójtowicz, (eds.). in press. Proceedings of the lexicography session at PLM 2007. München: Lincom Europa. Barnhart, Clarence L. 2003. Problems in editing commercial monolingual dictionaries. In Lexicography: Critical concepts, Vol. 1, ed. R.R.K. Hartmann, 285-301. London: Routledge. Coleman, Julie and Sarah Ogilvie. 2009. Forensic dictionary analysis: Principles and practice. International Journal of Lexicography, 22.1: 1-22. Corpus of Contemporary American English. Online at www.americancorpus.org Ilson, Robert. 1986. Lexicographic archaeology: Comparing dictionaries of the same family. In The history of lexicography. Papers from the Dictionary Research Centre seminar at Exeter, March 1986, ed. R. R. K. Hartmann, 127-136. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Gottlieb, Henrik and Jens Erik Mogensen, (eds.). 2007. Dictionary visions, research and practice. Selected papers from the 12th International Symposium on Lexicography, Copenhagen 2004. Amsterdam/ Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Gouws, Rufus H. 2007. Sublemmata or main lemmata. A critical look at the presentation of some macrostructural elements. In Dictionary visions, research and practice. Selected papers from the 12th International Symposium on Lexicography, Copenhagen 2004, ed. Henrik Gottlieb and Jens Erik Mogensen, 55-69, Amsterdam/ Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Hartmann, R. R. K., (ed.). 1986. The history of lexicography. Papers from the Dictionary Research Centre seminar at Exeter, March 1986. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Space-saving Devices in Abridged Dictionaries

59

—, (ed.). 2003. Lexicography: Critical concepts, vols. 1-3. London: Routledge. Hausmann, Franz J. and Herbert E. Wiegand. 2003. Component parts and structures of general monolingual dictionaries: A survey. In Lexicography: Critical concepts, Vol. 3, ed. R. R. K. Hartmann, 207254. London: Routledge. Hock, Hans Henrik, (ed.). 1997. Historical, Indo-European, and lexicographical studies. A Festschrift for Ladislav Zgusta on the occasion of his 70th birthday. Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Landau, Sidney I. 2001. Dictionaries. The art and craft of lexicography. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lew, Robert. in press. Space restrictions in paper and electronic dictionaries and their implications for the design of production dictionaries. In Proceedings of the lexicography session at PLM 2007, ed. Piotr BaĔski and Beata Wójtowicz. München: Lincom Europa. Nielsen, Sandro. 2002. Textual condensation in the articles of de Gruyter Wörterbuch Deutsch als Fremdsprache. In Perspektiven der pädagogischen Lexikographie des Deutschen II. Untersuchungen anhand des de Gruyter Wörterbuch Deutsch als Fremdsprache, ed. Herbert E. Wiegand, 597-608. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer. Prinsloo, D. J. and Gilles-Maurice de Schryver. 2002. The use of slashes as a lexicographic device, with special reference to the African languages. South African Journal of African Languages, 1: 70-91. Online at http://tshwanedje.com/publications/slashes.pdf Staffel, Rebecca A. Editorial reviews section. Online at www.amazon.com /American-Heritage-College-Dictionary/dp/ 0395671612 Sterkenburg, Piet van. 2003. ‘The dictionary’: Definition and history. In A practical guide to lexicography, ed. Piet van Sterkenburg, 3-17. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Wiegand, Herbert E. 1996. Textual condensation in printed dictionaries. A theoretical draft. Lexikos, 6: 133-158. —. 1997. Printed language dictionaries and their standardization: Notes on the progress toward a general theory of lexicography. In Historical, Indo-European, and lexicographical studies, ed. Hans Henrik Hock, 319-38. Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter. —, (ed.). 2002. Perspektiven der pädagogischen Lexikographie des Deutschen II. Untersuchungen anhand des de Gruyter Wörterbuch Deutsch als Fremdsprache. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer.

PART II: CONCEPTUALIZING AND EXPRESSING SPATIAL NOTIONS: LINGUISTICS AND RHETORIC

CHAPTER SIX ON ELECTROMAGNETIC “SPACE” AND LINGUISTIC VALUATION MAREK KUħNIAK

1. Introduction This paper offers some sort of polemic with a highly influential and insightful monograph Angels and Devils in Hell by Tomasz P. Krzeszowski published in 1997. The book proposes a systematic account of the significance of axiological elements in the description of the semantics of a natural language. The polemics specifically relates to one chapter of the book (albeit a central one) in which the author discusses the axiological parameter of pre-conceptual image schemata in language. The goal of the paper will be to argue that the nature of valuation in language can be successfully explicated with reference to the domain of electromagnetism, more specifically, the operation of electrical forces in an electromagnetic ‘space’ or field. The proposal offered in this article thus differs from the proposal offered by Krzeszowski in that it argues for a more primary basis for polar valuation than Krzeszowski does. Krzeszowski claims that such basis is grounded in our bodily/sensuous experience. The argument presented in this paper is that although bodily experience is inarguably significant as a source of linguistic valuation it appears not to constitute a primary (in the sense of the word used by Krzeszowski) ground for the conceptual PLUS-MINUS dichotomy. Especially if the word primary is employed by Krzeszowski himself not only with reference to human body but also with reference to some laws (e.g. gravity) which primarily structure the external reality in which the human conceptualizer operates, thereby affecting the human being as such and his/her conceptualisation of that realty. In view of the argumentation spelled out above, the primary metaphor which is posited to structure our linguistic valuation is as follows: PLUS-MINUS VALUATION IS ELECTROMAGNETIC

On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation

63

ATTRACTION-REPULSION. This is certainly a tentative solution at this stage of research. Some sample evidence, both experiential (section 2) and linguistic (section 3) for the validity of this mapping is discussed below. The word tentative is a necessary reservation here, as more usage-based and probably neurolinguistic evidence is needed to make more definite claims in the matter. Thus, conclusions (see section 4.0) emerging from the discussion should be treated as at most introductory. Moreover, due to editorial limits, the linguistic instantiations of the postulated metaphor have been reduced to a minimum.

2. The experiential basis of PLUS-MINUS polarity Krzeszowski (1997, 108) defines the preconceptual image schemata as “patterns (or structures) organizing our mental experience but also manifested at the level of bodily movements through space, manipulation of objects and perceptual interactions”. As Krzeszowski (1997, 109-112) further argues, a number of these schemas are viewed as complex configurations with the SCALE schema built into them. The concept of the SCALE schema is of particular significance here as “it is from the SCALE schema that the very concept arises”. As Krzeszowski (1997, 110) further claims, SCALE schema can solely be instantiated as one of the three spatial configurations, i.e. LEFT-RIGHT, FRONT-BACK and UP-DOWN. Krzeszowski concludes that the Domain of Values (a source of linguistic valuation) is thus hinged upon two types of schemas, i.e. UP-DOWN responsible for the vertical (hierarchical) dimension of the Domain of Values and the SCALE schema responsible for the horizontal dimension of the Domain of Values (see Fig. 1). Fig. 1 Dimensions of the Domain of Values

Domain of Values

UP-DOWN schema (vertical dimension)

SCALE schema (horizontal dimension)

64

Chapter Six

The SCALE schema itself is argued to be equipped with the inherent PLUS-MINUS polarity, and essentially represented in spatial configurations UP-DOWN, FRONT-BACK or LEFT-RIGHT. These are are argued by Krzeszowski to be foundational for axiological semantics in language. What remains particularly intriguing is this conception of the inherence of PLUS-MINUS polarity, as this issue remains largely passed over by Krzeszowski. Much is said about the experiential grounding of the major preconceptual image schemas (UP-DOWN, FRONT-BACK, LEFT-RIGHT), but relatively little is said about the nature of the SCALE schema itself. Krzeszowski (1997, 111) confines himself to a few general observations regarding the experiential anchorage of the SCALE schema that relate its ontology to the primary bodily experience of distance, size and weight, and comparison. As Krzeszowski (1997, 111) puts it: When we grow, our bodies become taller, larger and heavier, and when we move we inevitably cover a certain distance. Various objects with which we interact are nearer or more remote, bigger or smaller, heavier or lighter. When comparing them, we intuitively apply some scale. In this way the SCALE schema is present in our daily experience of comparison.

Correct and insightful as Krzeszowski’s observations connected with the SCALE schema may be, they are argued by the author of the present paper NOT to constitute a primary basis that validates the emergence, and finally the essence of the SCALE schema as manifested in language. Such primary basis (contrary to Krzeszowski’s remarks) is claimed to be laid in the phenomenon of electromagnetism. This phenomenon is ubiquitous in our every-day experiences (lightings, electric current, magnetism) and also well accounted for in the science of physics (Coulomb’s law). Each of these everyday phenomena can be instantiated by corresponding positive and negative experiences. The extensions of electromagnetism are obviously noticeable on other planes. As de Saussure claims, language is a social phenomenon (cf. Fisiak 1985, 26-33), but it is also natural in the sense that individuals acquire the language via social interaction with the environment in a natural unforced way. Because language is given to us as if from the outside, it is commonsensical to believe that natural language processes may be subject to (or rather integral with) other natural processes ubiquitous in our daily interactions with a physical environment. That the existence of such far-going correspondences between mechanisms shaping natural language and mechanisms shaping the physical world may be argued as highly justified is shown in the insightful works upon pre-

On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation

65

conceptual image schemas (Johnson 1987; Krzeszowski 1997), Libura’s (2000) account of force in Polish modal verbs, Talmy’s (2002) concept of force dynamics in language, or KuĨniak (2009, in print) work on foreign lexical assimilation processes. Krzeszowski, however, takes it for granted that PLUS-MINUS polarity as an axiological parameter is integral to the constitution of the SCALE schema but does not deliberate much upon the provenance of the (+) /(-) dichotomy. As it is argued in the present paper, addressing the issue of the nature of the SCALE schema may help us understand that polarization is naturally a desirable phenomenon as it relates to absolute BALANCE, which results from the very juxtaposition of the opposite values. Thus, although lightnings are in the vast majority of cases subject to human negative emotion of fear, they still serve as a powerful stimulator of plant growth. In addition, many people view lightnings as a source of aesthetic inspiration, others even attributing thunderstorms to a divine punishment. As far as electric current is concerned, we all are fully aware of its positive impact on our everyday life as a source of power, without which we can hardly imagine normal living. However, everybody must have once or twice in their lifetime experienced the negative feeling of an electric shock. Some societies made even an institutional use of it, e.g. electrocution as a form of capital punishment. Last but not least, our experience with battery loading or changing makes us aware of the existence of (+) and (-) poles. We realize that (+) and (-) poles are essential for the required balance to be achieved. The issue of (+)/(-) dichotomy and the resulting notion of natural balance is discussed below. The primary experiential grounding behind PLUS-MINUS polarity can be thus represented as in Fig.2.

66

Chapter Six

Fig. 2 The experiential grounding of PLUS-MINUS polarity

Electromagnetic ‘space’ A source of [+] / [-] polarity Extensions Electric storms

Electric current

Electric shock (-) A source of destruction (-)

A stimulator of vegetation (+)

Batteries

Power supply (+) (+) pole

(-) pole

The electrical forces operating in an electromagnetic field essentially involve the repulsion of like charges and attraction of unlike charges (Hewitt 1998, 373). This phenomenon can be observed in such everyday situations as when a charged comb attracts an uncharged piece of paper because the force of attraction for the closer charge is greater than the force of repulsion for the farther charge,

or when the negatively charged balloon polarizes molecules in the wooden wall and creates a positively charged surface, so the balloon sticks to the wall. (Hewitt 1998, 382)1 1

The centrality of electrical force in the physical environment and its consequent relevance to human everyday functioning is best summed up by Hewitt (1998, 373): “Consider a universal force which, like gravity, varies inversely as the square of distance but which is billions upon billions of times stronger than gravity. If there were such a force and if it were everywhere attractive like gravity, the

On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation

67

Thus, PLUS-MINUS composition of SCALE schema appears to have a more primary (in the meaning of the term used by Krzeszowski 1997, 111) experiential basis than experiences of size, weight, and distance mentioned by the scholar. Electromagnetism is essentially pre-conceptual, a priori in respect of human experience. Being confronted with the phenomenon, a human conceptualizer ‘learns’ that PLUS-MINUS polarity secures a natural balance in the universe as (+) pole is counterbalanced by (-) pole. This balance is entailed in secondary (given in the process of cognition) experiences such as when a human being gets to know the notions of size, distance, or weight and develops the ability to compare between things being smaller and bigger, heavier and lighter, nearer and farther. PLUS-MINUS polarity in language can be called natural in the sense that the source domain appears to be structured by electrical forces operating in an electromagnetic field—a natural property of the surrounding reality. In this view, Krzeszowski’s quite marginal ATTRACTION/REPULSION schema gains in the present paper central rather than peripheral status in constituting the nature of SCALE schema, as can be illustrated in Fig. 3 below. Fig. 3 Electromagnetic attraction/repulsion and the notion of balance

Attraction (+) (-) Unlike charges

Repulsion (-) (-) Like charges

(+)

(-)

Balance universe would be pulled together into the tight ball with all the matter pulled as close together as it could get. But suppose this force were a repelling force, with every bit of matter repelling every other bit of matter. What then? The universe would be an ever-expanding gaseous cloud. Suppose, however, that the universe consisted of two kinds of particles, say, positives, and negatives. Suppose that positives repelled positives but attract negatives, and that negatives repelled negatives but attracted positives. Like kinds repel and unlike kinds attract. And suppose that there were equal numbers of each – and some neutrals unaffected by this force. What would the universe be like? The answer is simple: It would be like the one we are living in. For there are such particles and there such force – the electrical force.”

68

Chapter Six

Primary experiential basis of such conceived PLUS-MINUS polarity are the forces of attraction (gravitational force, electrical force) and the forces of repulsion (resistance force, electrical force). These, as argued above, are fundamental to the relative stability or balance of the universe. It is to be reminded here that (+)/(-) represent symbolically unlikeness of charges, rather than entailing positive/negative values, which we conventionally associate with these symbols in everyday life, respectively.

3. Electromagnetism in language In the preceding section, we looked at the experiential factors motivating the ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema as a source domain for the PLUS-MINUS polarity in language. In the present section, we will look at some linguistic evidence how the phenomenon of electromagnetism is reflected in our everyday linguistic valuations. The most conspicuous manifestation in which our experience of electromagnetic forces is extended onto an axiological plane is the proverbial status of the phrase opposites attract in the English language. This phrase, which directly reflects the quintessence of the unlike charges attracting each other as we know it from physical science, has become a defining ingredient of the cultural key concept of LOVE (cf. Dirven and Verspoor 2004, 135)—the fact observable, e.g. in popular songs2. As far as ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema itself, the linguistic evidence has well been documented by Krzeszowski (1997, 130-131) and can be instantiated by the following: She attracted me physically. One of the main attractions of the city was the castle. I was fascinated by her charm. At seventeen he was captivated by a twenty year old blonde. Any deformity frightened and repelled her. The painting depicting hell repelled all the guests. She shrank back from the horrible spectacle. However, Krzeszowski’s considerations over ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema are primarily restricted to its moral/aesthetic dimension in which it is somewhat taken for granted that ATTRACTION is associated with symbolic PLUS entailing positive experiences, whereas REPULSION is associated with MINUS, i.e. negative experiences. The understanding of ATTRACTION-REPULSION dichotomy as it is proposed in the present paper is more primary than Krzeszowski’s in the sense that 2 Notice the title “Opposites Attract" of a highly popular song by Paula Abdul, taken from her debut album Forever Your Girl, or lyrics from Madonna’s “Causing a Commotion”: You met your match when you met me/I know that you will disagree it's crazy But opposites attract you'll see/And I won't let you get away so easy

On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation

69

ATTRACTION-REPULSION is tentatively suggested to be the source domain (rather than target domain as Krzeszowski argues) for the PLUSMINUS valuation in language. The reason for such conception of ATTRACTION-REPULSION comes from the experience of electromagnetism that constitutes, as the argument goes, the foundation for the emergence of ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema. Inarguably, some support for the validity of the argument about the electromagnetic foundation of the ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema as central for structuring PLUS-MINUS polarity in language is provided by the British National Corpus (BNC). The following are selected samples of texts representing how the phenomenon of electromagnetism is extended via ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema onto linguistic positive/negative valuations. Prior to the presentation of the BNC samples, the statistics for the selected set of ‘electromagnetic’ lemmas are provided and the definitions from Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English (LDOCE) are additionally delivered: I. Elecrtifying: BNC [74 occurrences in 67 texts] LDOCE: if a performance or a speech electrifies people, it makes them feel very interested or excited, e.g. She would sit at the piano and sing, electrifying us all. The BNC samples: Yet every year one questions the quality of many BR decisions. In 1989 we were assured there was no, absolutely no, case for electrifying between Edinburgh and Glasgow. (A 11 99) Until his knees failed him and the cartilages were removed, he was also one of the finest of all cover fielders, with electrifying speed and a pin-point throw that seemed barely credible. (ABR 41) Years after Sceptre (see pages 18-19) and trained at Newmarket by Peter Purcell Gilpin, she made her racecourse debut in the British Dominion Two-Year-Old Plate at Sandown Park in June 1903 and turned in an electrifying performance to win by an official margin of ten lengths, though some put the correct distance at nearly a hundred yards! (AD7 593) Election ‘92: Home town crowd rises to orator free from shackles by Jon Hibbs, Political Staff MR KINNOCK returned to his Islwyn constituency last night to give his most electrifying performance of the election campaign, claiming that, after years in the political wilderness, Labour's values were about to join forces with the popular vote in an historic victory. (AJM 115)

70

Chapter Six

The recordings remain excellent. Just out in RCA's continuing Toscanini Collection are an electrifying interpretation of Verdi's Otello (GD 60302) with Vinay's anguished Otello and Giuseppe Valdengo's insinuating, inspired Iago, and the questionably cast but compelling account of Beethoven's Fidelio. (GD 60) (AJV 425)

II Magnetic: BNC [1531 occurrences in 355 texts] LDOCE: (1) concerning or produced by magnetism, e.g. magnetic forces (2) having the power of a magnet or behaving like a magnet, e.g. magnetic personality/charm etc (3) qualities that make other people feel strongly attracted to you The BNC samples: Another interpretation is from the English corruption of the Gaelic word Laogh meaning calf, Mountain of the Calves. Ben Loyal dominates the Kyle of Tongue and holds a magnetic attraction for many hillwalkers. (A65 952) But her face was interesting and intelligent and attractive. Her personality was magnetic. (A68 80) We need a different set of priorities for British foreign policy. The pre-occupations which have dominated debates at Westminster for so long no longer make sense. The magnetic attraction of the European Community for all of its neighbours—to the north and south as well as to the east—itself calls for some agonising reappraisal of the conventional wisdom of British foreign policy. (A87 237) Speaking in Brussels, where the Community dimension of the drama is becoming a major debate, the Labour leader, Mr Neil Kinnock, said: ‘Freedom is magnetic and it is natural that the people of Eastern Europe should lunge for it at their first chance’. (A87 275) The Llanelli and Wales lock Phil May believes that in a couple of years Cardiff will become pre-eminent in Welsh club rugby both because of their magnetic appeal and because of Wales's economic geography. (AA7 23)

III Magnetism: BNC (168 occurrences in 102 texts) LDOCE: the physical force that makes two metal objects pull towards each other or push each other apart. If someone has magnetism, they have powerful exciting qualities that attract people to them, e.g. his personal magnetism

On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation

71

The BNC samples: Mr Mandela, for his part, according to Mr Ramaphosa, had ‘a unique greatness’, a magnetism which he felt in his presence on Tuesday before he had even looked him in the eye. (A5D 16) Ben Loyal dominates the Kyle of Tongue and holds a magnetic attraction for many hillwalkers. Its magnetism is not only spiritual—in some quarters the rock pegmatite has a strange distorting effect on compass bearings. (A65 953) The Palacio de Anaya reminded me of James Dean, not so much in physical appearance, though they were alike in presenting the essence of a certain youthful American type of the period, as in an instant personal magnetism, a cocksure and irresistible sexual charm. (AC6 325) I felt sure he must know and relish his power over others, the power that only exceptional physical beauty can give, especially when it is allied with intelligence and strong animal magnetism. (AC6 355) But he inspired awe not only because of his military resources, but also because of his lavishly spent wealth, his splendid building projects, the perception of his learning, the magnetism of his personality which brought him a following of other ecclesiastics. (ADC 1378)

IV Opposites attract: BNC (8 occurrences in 8 texts) The BNC samples: For Freud, ‘bisexuality is the coincidence of two heterosexual desires within a single psyche… within Freud's thesis of primary bisexuality, there is no homosexuality, and only opposites attract’ (Butler, Gender Trouble , 61, her emphasis). (A6D 317) Opposites Don't Attract. Before you start horse shopping, you need to take a careful look at your own temperament and personality. It is often said that opposites attract, but this doesn't usually work with horses; most people are happier with an animal whose temperament is similar to their own. (BPB 243) He added: ‘accept that Nick is the best player in the world. But I love Augusta as much as he does and anything can happen.’ Opposites attract, Couples and Faldo should be the best of pals. (CBG 10998) Sadly, I do not foresee a blissful future for you with this Mrs Spratt-to-be, any more than I see a joyous life ahead for her with you. For while it's true to say that opposites attract, it's also true that the attraction wears very thin when intense non-stop aggravation takes over. (CH1 5201)

72

Chapter Six

‘And you were quite wrong.’ ‘But we're complete opposites.’ He laughed. ‘My darling idiot, I know that. But opposites attract, especially when they're the opposite sex’. (JY2 4043)

4. Conclusions Linguistic evidence provided in section 3.0 shows that metaphorical extensions of electromagnetism lead to conventionally positive axiological charges of the discussed evaluative lemmas. This is natural. The inherent presence of the two opposing values as constitutive of the phenomenon of electromagnetism ensures the absolute BALANCE which is PLUS. Such inherently positive constitution of the electromagnetic ‘space’ leads to the aforequoted stability of the universe and, not surprisingly, this scientific fact is also mirrored in the way humans conceptualize and evaluate events related, directly or by extension, to the phenomenon of electromagnetism. As a consequence, ATTRACTION/REPULSION schema, with its embedding in electromagnetism, emerges as central in our conceptualizations of positive/negative experiences, conventionally represented as PLUSMINUS, respectively. This is because (+)/(-) polarity appears to be metonymically rather than metaphorically correlated with the respective poles of the schema. Thus ATTRACTION naturally (not conventionally) implicates the existence of the arrangement of unlike charges, whereas REPULSION naturally implicates the arrangement of like charges. It is to be reminded here that (+)/(-) represent symbolically unlikeness of charges, rather than entailing positive/negative values, which we conventionally associate with these symbols in every-day life, respectively. UP/DOWN, BACK-FRONT, LEFT-RIGHT configurations are undoubtedly a significant source of valuation of language but PLUS-MINUS poles can only serve as source domains in metaphors such as e.g. UP is PLUS, DOWN is MINUS. The fact that these metaphors are conventional in language does not need to explain the nature of PLUS-MINUS polarity itself. Namely, the claim that UP is PLUS does not need to entail that PLUS is inherently inscribed in UP. In the same way, the claim that DOWN is MINUS does not need to mean that MINUS is inherently correlated with DOWN. Accounting for the nature of this PLUS-MINUS polarity necessitates positing this polarity as a target domain and ATTRACTION-REPULSION as a source domain in the metaphorical mapping in which ATTRACTION-REPULSION is viewed as having primarily electromagnetic rather than bodily foundation (cf. Krzeszowski 1997, 130). Thus, Krzeszowski’s (1997, 109) claim that SCALE schema with its PLUS-MINUS schema is built into various schemata probably needs

On Electromagnetic “Space” and Linguistic Valuation

73

reconsidering as it suggests inherent rather than emergent nature of valuation. Krzeszowski (1997, 110) says that “the SCALE schema, once conceptualized, must be represented as one of orientational schemata”. As this paper suggests, this statement should not be made so definitely, because, as we hopefully revealed, it is ATTRACTION-REPULSION schema that plays a central role in our experiences of positive/negative phenomena. As Krzeszowski has rightly observed, other schemata are certainly very significant as sources of linguistic valuation, but they seem not to account best for the nature of the fundamental PLUS-MINUS dynamism present in language. All in all, the ultimate domain for the PLUS-MINUS subpart of the SCALE schema appear not to be orientational schemata (UP-DOWN, LEFT-RIGHT, FRONT-BACK) (Krzeszowski 1997, 110), but the ATTRACTION-REPULSION present in the electromagnetic field. The PLUS-MINUS polarity as understood in this paper, is ‘pre-axiological’, only later to become subject to conceptualisation processes in language, in which PLUS is conventionally associated with positive phenomena and MINUS with negative ones.

References Dirven, René and Verspoor, Marjolin. 2004. Cognitive exploration of language and linguistics. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Fisiak, Jacek. 1985. WstĊp do współczesnych teorii lingwistycznych. Warszawa: Wydawnictwa Szkolne i Pedagogiczne. Hewitt, Paul. G. 1998. Conceptual physics. Reading, Menlo Park, New York: Addison Wesley Longman, Inc. Johnson, Mark. 1987. The body in the mind: The bodily basis of meaning, imagination, and reason. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Krzeszowski, Tomasz. P. 1997. Angels and devils in hell. Elements of axiology in semantics. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Energeia. KuĨniak, Marek. 2009. Foreign words and phrases in English. Metaphoric astrophysical concepts in lexicological study. Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego. Libura, Agnieszka. 2000. WyobraĨnia w jĊzyku. Leksykalne korelaty schematów wyobraĪeniowych CENTRUM-PERYFERIE i SIŁY. Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego. Talmy, Leonard. 2002. Toward a cognitive semantics. Vol. I: Concept structuring systems. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

74

Chapter Six

Corpora and dictionaries BNC—British National Corpus at: www.natcorp.ox.ac.uk LDOCE—Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English. Pearson Education Limited 2003.

CHAPTER SEVEN ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF EPISTEMIC MEANING IN ENGLISH AND POLISH: A SHIFT IN THE SEMANTIC SPACE OF THREATEN AND PROMISE

MAJA LUBAēSKA

1. Introduction As has been shown by Traugott (1993; 1997) and Verhagen (1995; 2000), English promise and threaten may be used not only as illocutionary and performative verbs, but also as verbs denoting epistemic modality, which is illustrated in (1) and (2) below: 1 a) John promised to keep it a secret. b) It promises to be an exciting few days. 2 a) The hijackers threatened to kill all the passengers. b) The dispute threatens to split the coalition.

In both pairs, the main verb in (a) describes an occurrence of the speech act of promising/threatening, whereas in (b) it expresses an inference by the speaker about the possibility that something is or is not the case. The latter use of the verb is called epistemic, since it expresses the speaker’s subjective judgement, and is concerned with their belief or opinion about the validity of the proposition. The research shows that the epistemic promise / threaten is a more grammaticalised, and historically posterior form since epistemic meanings generally arise out of non-epistemic ones (Traugott 1989; 1993; 1997; Verhagen 1995; 2000). It appears to have arisen in English in the 16th century and to have been thriving in the language since the end of the 18th century. Heine and Kuteva (2006) point out that the development of the epistemic use is characteristic of promise

76

Chapter Seven

and threaten also in other European languages such as French, Dutch, Spanish, Italian and German. Since the process of grammaticalisation, and more specifically of subjectification, of both verbs seems to be an essential quality of a number of Germanic and Romance languages, I would like to investigate its evolution in Polish, a Slavic language. Therefore the primary aim of this paper will be to compare the English and Polish data to establish the exact stage of the development of epistemic groziü ‘threaten’ and obiecaü ‘promise’ in the Polish language.

2. The development of epistemic threaten 2.1. English The evolution of epistemic threaten includes four stages (Heine and Kuteva 2006)1. Stage-one threaten occurs in Old English as a control verb, not necessarily a performative one, meaning “to signal intention of inflicting something negative” (Traugott, 1997, 186). Initially, it is used with finite, non-finite and nominal complements. This is illustrated in (3), respectively2. 3 a) and to threaten her that I will have her hanged (1593, Gifford, Witches B1V) b) wyrde…ðe oft ðreataþ ða yflan to witnianne fate-Dat. … that often threatens the evil-ones to punish-INF ‘with fate…that often threatens to punish the evil’ (c.880, Boethius 40) c) mid word he ðretneþ muche & lute deþ in dede with word he threatens much & little does in deed (1297, R. Glouc. (Rolls) 9383)

In the sixteenth century, threaten develops a non-intentional, epistemic meaning ‘portend, presage’ (stage two). At this stage it is used only with 1 Sources vary when enumerating subsequent stages. For instance, Heine and Kuteva (2006) distinguish four stages for both threaten and promise, whereas Traugott (1993) distinguishes three stages for threaten and five stages for promise, and Traugott (1997) lists three stages for each verb. I will use Heine and Kuteva’s (2006) schema since it seems most accurate for my purposes. Namely, it takes into account the characteristics of the subject (animate/inanimate), which seems to be adequate to the analysis of the Polish data. It must be noted, however, that there is no disagreement between the sources as far as the interpretation of the facts is concerned. This licences the use of Traugott’s (1993; 1997) data to illustrate the four-stage development of epistemic threaten and promise, as advocated in Heine and Kuteva (2006). 2 All English examples in this section come from Traugott (1993; 1997).

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

77

nominal object complements. As the examples in (4) show, the subject controls the predicate (as it is the source of the threat). 4 a) This fire was the more terrible, by reasone it was in a conspicuous place, and threatened danger unto many, and was altogether unapproacheable for remedy (bef. 1627, John Hayward Annals of the 1st 4 yrs of Elizabeth’s Reign, 87) b) the house of STUART is an inconvenience of a much deeper dye, and would threaten us with much more dismal consequences (c. 1650, Hume: ESSAYS Pt. 2 E. 15, 478)

In the eighteenth century, threaten evolved a non-intentional, epistemic use with non-finite complements only (stage three). From the syntactic point of view, as Traugott (1993) notes, this is a shift in status from control to raising verb since the syntactic subject is not the source of the threat any more. The speaker regards the proposition as probable and evaluates it negatively. The stage-three use of threaten is illustrated in (5) below. 5 a) I am sometimes frightened with the dangers that threaten to diminish it [my estate]. (1780, Mirror No. 81) b) The French government manifests very considerable uneasiness on account of the prevailing scarcity of corn, an evil that threatens to increase in consequence of the late inclement weather. (1802, Joh2)

There is no information on when exactly the final stage-four construction emerged (Heine and Kuteva 2006). It evolved when stage-three threaten was generalized to take human subjects. At stage four, the subject does not control the predicate, as in the present-day English example in (6). 6. […] the hapless, aggrieved house-husband threatens to become as rigid and unexamined a comic invention as the grotesquely intrusive mother-in-law once was. (1992, Independent)

To sum up, the development from illocutionary threaten to epistemic threaten is presented in Table 13.

3 Note that the stages continue to coexist, i.e. the rise of a new stage does not result in the termination of the previous one.

78

Chapter Seven

Table 1. The development of epistemic threaten in English Stage 1

Verbal meaning signaling the intention of inflicting something negative (non-epistemic use) portend, presage (epistemic use)

Complementation type finite complements non-finite complements nominal complements

Subject animate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the threat

nominal complements

3

portend, presage (epistemic use)

non-finite complements

4

portend, presage (epistemic use)

non-finite complements

(animate,) inanimate4 the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the threat inanimate the subject does not control the predicate, it is not the source of the threat animate the subject does not control the predicate, it is not the source of the threat

2

2.2. Polish Semantically, the Polish verb groziü ‘to threaten’ is similar to its English counterpart, yet, it is syntactically unalike. Groziü appeared in Polish in the fifteenth century (Sławski 1952, BaĔkowski 2000, BoryĞ 2005). In Old Polish5 it was a lexical verb with two non-epistemic 4

Another difference between Traugott’s (1993; 1997) and Heine and Kuteva’s (2006) analyses is that Traugott observes that the subject occurring in stage-two construction can be either animate or inanimate, whereas Heine and Kuteva claim that it is inanimate. Animate subjects can, admittedly, be found at stage two, but being vastly outnumbered by inanimate subjects, they can be considered a minor exception. In Polish, as Heine and Kuteva (2006) predict, only inanimate subjects are found at stage two. 5 The history of Polish recorded in writing is commonly divided into the following periods (Klemensiewicz 1985, among others): Old Polish: 1136 – 16th c; Middle Polish: 16th c – 1780; New Polish: 1780 – 1939. The period after 1939 is generally called Present Day or Contemporary Polish.

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

79

meanings: to express the intention of inflicting something negative; and to have designs (on someone’s life) or to be on the lookout (UrbaĔczyk 1956). However, it seems to have acquired the epistemic meaning (to be a sign of a future, unpleasant event) in the sixteenth century. As the examples in (7) show (Mayenowa 1974), the sixteenth-century groziü occurred with finite (7a-b), non-finite (7c-d), and nominal complements (7e-f) when used performatively, and only with nominal complements (7gh) when used epistemically. 7 a) o którym MoyzeǕz w czwartych kĞiĊgách Ǖwych powiádał / gdĨie groĨi Īe Pan Bóg dla grzéchów náǕzych miał przepuĞüiü ná nas kły beǕtiy okrutnych (1590, S. Orzechowski, J. Januszowski, Oksza) ‘which Moses said in book four / where he threatened that Our Lord was to send the canines of terrible beasts upon us’ b) chcemyli vĞü groĨby Páná ChriǕtuǕowey / gdĨie grozi tym wǕzytkim / ktorzyby ǕiĊ go záprzeli przed ludĨmi / iĪ ǕiĊ ich on teĪ záprzeü chce (1583, J. Niemojewski, Obrona) ‘we want to escape Jesus Christ’s threats / whereby he threatens to renounce all those who renounce him’ c) Fuka łáie gniewa Ǖie muǕzcĪąc Ǖie po brodzye / BĊdzye groĨił kijem byü (1557, B. Bielski, Komedyja Justyna i Konstancyjej) ‘He grunts, he moans and groans, scratching his chin / he threatens to have her caned’ d) abowiem w then cĪás CeǕarz Henryk cĪwarty groĨił ĪiemiĊ WĊgierǕką wĨiąü. (1564, B. Bielski, Kronika) ‘as at the time, Emperor Henry the fourth threatened he would conquer the Hungarian lands.’ e) SpráwiedliwoĞüi proǕzą / á groĪą nam woyną (1578, Jan Kochanowski, Odprawa Posłów Greckich) ‘they want justice, but threaten with war’ f) wiĊtǕzemi im klątwámi / ieĞliby ǕiĊ nie vpámiĊtali / groził. (1579, Piotr Skarga, ĩywoty ĝwiĊtych) ‘he threatened to put a curse on them if they did not come to senses’ g) gdyĪ to záümienie słoneczne w wodnym znamieniu niebieǕkim było / groĨi nam dĪdĪámi gwałtownemi (1565, Stanisław z Rawy, Przepowiedzenie Przygód) ‘as this Sun eclipse was in the sign of the Water Bearer, it threatens to bring heavy rain’ h) Biją wáły w brzégi krzywé / GroĪą vpadkiem opoki (1579, Jan Kochanowski, Psałterz Dawidów) ‘The waves buffet the rugged cliffs / Threaten to bring the rock down’

The data above show that in the sixteenth century groziü was like stagetwo threaten: it had both performative (7a-f) and epistemic uses (7g-h). Its further development, however, seems to have been arrested in late Middle

80

Chapter Seven

Polish6, when groziü lost its full syntactic potential and stopped occurring with non-finite complements. In New and Present Day Polish, groziü is a stage-two structure, as the data given in (8) show. When set beside its sixteenth-century counterpart, the modern groziü has a fewer number of possible complementation types. Namely, it does not occur with non-finite complements. 8 a) Interes siĊ nie udał, kredytu nie ma czym spłaciü, a bank nalicza odsetki karne i grozi komornikiem. (1994, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘The business failed, there are no means to pay off the loan, and the bank charges the interest for default and threatens to send a bailiff.’ b) Dubczek wiosną 1968 znalazł siĊ w sytuacji, w której konserwa partyjna ciągnĊła go wstecz, nacisk z dołu zmuszał do parcia naprzód, a BreĪniew groził interwencją. (1995, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘In the spring of 1968, Dubcheck found himself in a situation where the conservatives pulled him backwards, the party ranks pushed him forwards, and Brezhniev threatened to intervene.’ c) Pewien mĊĪczyzna w anonimach groził rodzicom, Īe uprowadzi dziecko. (1995, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘In anonymous letters to the parents, a man threatened to kidnap their child.’ d) ZaĞ doradca premiera David Bar-Ilan groził, Īe w razie dalszej eskalacji trzeba bĊdzie rozbroiü policjĊ autonomii. (1996, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘And the Prime Minister’s aid, David Bar-Ilan, threatened that further escalation will result in the disarmament of the autonomy’s police.’ e) ChcĊ, aĪebyĞ mi wytłumaczył: jaka to bieda grozi Fenicji czy Egiptowi? (1895-97, Bolesław Prus, Faraon [INTRATEXT]) ‘I want you to tell me what misfortune the Phoenicians and the Egyptians are threatened to face.’ f) Gdyby nawała nie groziła z tamtej strony, po cóĪ by ich wysyłano? (1886, Henryk Sienkiewicz, Potop [INTRATEXT]) ‘Had there been no threat of the onslaught coming that way, why would they have been sent?’ g) O rozbiórce zadecydowały latem władze miasta, argumentując, Īe pomnik grozi zawaleniem (1992, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘In the summer, the local council decided to pull down the monument, on the grounds that it threatened to collapse.’

6

Such a turn of events is not unusual. Grammaticalisation, as claimed by Heine and Kuteva (2007, 115), does not need to go through all the stages and can be arrested at any time. To definitely establish the time when the development was arrested, further research, using data from diachronic corpora, is necessary. This, however, is not possible at the moment since a diachronic corpus of Polish has not been constructed, and the existing corpora incorporate only the data from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

81

The data presented in (8) show that groziü, when used performatively, occurs with [+human] subjects and is followed either by a nominal object complement, as in (8a-b), or a finite complement, as in (8c-d). When used epistemically, it occurs with inanimate subjects and is followed only by a nominal complement, as in (8e-g). It seems legitimate to conclude that due to the change in its complementation properties (the loss of non-finite complementation), groziü did not develop into a so-called quasi-modal, like its English counterpart and other constructions, such as be going to, did (Traugott 1995). This, however, does not mean that Polish does not enhance the rise of epistemic forms. In the following section I will show that the verb obiecaü ‘to promise’ is a more advanced epistemic form in Polish.

3. The development of epistemic promise 3.1. English Traugott (1997) remarks that promise was borrowed into Middle English (in the early fifteenth century) from French. The evolution of epistemic promise was parallel to that of epistemic threaten, with four distinguishable stages. At the beginning, promise was a performative verb, a declaration that one will do or not do something. Thus it required an animate subject that would be able to fulfill the promise. At the first stage, promise occurred with finite, non-finite and nominal complements, which is shown in (9a-c)7, respectively. Like threaten, it is a control verb coindexing the subjects of the main and subordinate clause. 9 a) and I beseech your Grace to promise to his Highnes for mee that I will not onely fill my pockets with papers… (1570-1640, Official Letters 2, 156-7) b) And promysed Kyng Herowde without delay / To come ageyn by hym—this is no nay (c. 1500 Digby Plays 97) c) and there asked hym a gyffte that he promised her whan she gaff hym the swerde (bef. 1470 Works of Thomas Malory 48)

In the sixteenth century, promise developed an epistemic meaning ‘to give pre-indication of X’ (stage two). Being the source of the promise, the subject controls the predicate. At this stage, promise occurs only with nominal complements. This is illustrated in (10) below. 10a) the Title of this Paper promising some Experiments about the Production of 7

English examples in this section come from Traugott (1993) and Traugott (1997).

82

Chapter Seven

Electricity, I must not omit to recite… (1675-1676, Boyle, Electricity and Magnetism 20-21) b) As the morning promised a fair day we set out, but the storm coming up again we were obliged to come to. (1784 Muhl)

In the eighteenth century, the epistemic, non-illocutionary promise evolved, raising uses with non-finite complements only (stage three). As the examples in (11) show, promise indicates an evaluation by the producer of the utterance; the speaker indicates that there is evidence for a particular expectation and evaluates it positively. 11 a) The Capitol promised to be a large and handsome building, judging from the part about two thirds above ground. (1795 Twin) b) the Pet Shop Boys’ tour promises to be orchestrated with an imagination and attention to detail that makes most of their competitors look positively pedestrian. (1992 Guardian)

Finally, as advocated by Heine and Kuteva (2006), the construction was further extended to contexts involving human subjects (stage four). This is illustrated in (12), where the [+human] subject is not the source of the promise and it does not control the event expressed by the predicate. 12. As poor Jane promises to be pretty, she may be married off my hands. (1832)

The data summarized in Table 1 and Table 2 show that both threaten and promise originated in English as lexical verbs allowing the same types of complements (finite, non-finite and nominal). Although threaten is older than promise, as the former appears first in Old English (650-1125), and the latter in Late Middle English (1400-1470), both followed the same grammaticalisation path from control verb to raising verb, developing epistemic meanings. This is a semantic change (the development of semantic epistemicity) and a syntactic change (the verbs acquired raising properties) at the same time. As far as Polish is concerned, groziü has undergone only the semantic change8. As pointed out in the previous section, having lost its ability to be complemented by the infinitive, it could not undergo a change parallel to English threaten, which developed raising properties. This, however, is not the case with Polish obiecaü ‘to promise’, which seems to have evolved semantically and syntactically more than groziü did. 8

This, again, is a natural course of events. As pointed out by Traugott (1993, 355), semantic changes come before and motivate, but never cause, syntactic changes.

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

83

Table 2. The development of epistemic promise in English Stage 1

Verbal meaning A commitment to do something (non-epistemic use)

Complementation type finite complements non-finite complements nominal complements

2

To pre-indicate something (epistemic use)

nominal complements

3

To pre-indicate something (epistemic use)

non-finite complements

4

To pre-indicate something (epistemic use)

non-finite complements

Subject animate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the promise (animate,) inanimate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the promise Inanimate, the subject does not control the predicate, it is not the source of the promise animate the subject does not control the predicate, it is not the source of the promise

3.2. Polish Obiecaü appeared in the fourteenth century Polish as a verbal commitment to do or not to do something (BaĔkowski 2000, BoryĞ 2005). As noted in BaĔkowski (2000), in the fifteenth century, obiecaü developed an imperfective form obiecawaü and obiecowaü, which were used as a preindication of something happening. Like the English promise, obiecaü seems to have followed the grammaticalisation path summarised in Table 2. When obiecaü reports an actual act of promising, it is used with an animate subject, and occurs with finite, non-finite and nominal complements (stage one). This is illustrated in (13), where (a-b) have finite complements, (c-d) have non-finite complements, and (e-f) have nominal complements. In each of them, the subject is the source of the promise.

84

Chapter Seven

13 a) Bos obieczał iĪe po vkorzeniu vdrĊczenia daǕz pociechĊ grzeǕznemu (1539, W. Wróbel, ĩółtarz Dawidów) ‘Since you promised to console the sinner after the torment was over.’ b) Szef niemieckiej gospodarki obiecał, Īe jego kraj wstawi siĊ w Brukseli, aby polskie towary rolne miały lepszy niĪ dotychczas dostĊp na ryki europejskie (1995, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘The German Minister for Economic Affairs promised to support Poland in Brussels so that Polish farming industry would enjoy easier access to the European markets.’ c) W rĊku kapłaĔskich profesją i przysiĊgĊ czyi, iĪ jako sługa Chrystusów broniü koĞciołów i kapłanów, i praw koĞcielnych winien jest, i temu dosyü czyniü siĊ obiecuje. (1597, Piotr Skarga, Kazania Sejmowe [INTRATEXT]) ‘The clergy take the oaths and it is their professional duty, as Christ’s servant, to protect the church, the clergy and the church law. And they promise to do this. ‘ d) Przypomniał koalicji, Īe obiecała obniĪyü stawki podatkowe dla najgorzej zarabiających. (1995, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘He reminded the coalition that they had promised to lower the tax thresholds for those with the lowest income.’ e) Ale áby go puĞüili [zbójcy] / A pieniĊdzy iĞci byli: tyĞiąc im złotych obiecał. (1578, Biernat z Lublina, Ezop) ‘As there was enough money, he promised (the highwaymen) a thousand złotys to let him go free.’ f) I właĞnie coĞ takiego siĊ stało: rząd najpierw obiecał podwyĪki dla emerytów, potem siĊ z tego wycofał. (1995, Gazeta Wyborcza [PELCRA]) ‘And this is what happened: the government promised the OAPs higher pensions, and then withdrew.’

The examples in (13) show that obiecaü definitely has stage-one properties. However, as noted in BaĔkowski (2000), it developed an imperfective form obiecowaü that started to be used as a pre-indicator of something happening in the fifteenth century. As such, it occurred with nominal complements only, and mostly with inanimate subjects, animate (but [-human]) subjects being rather exceptional. The data, all representing a stage-two situation, are given in (14) below. 14 a) rzekł Anektánábus Ǖynu Alexandrze / pogląday ná gwiazdi bácĪ gwiazdĊ HelkuleǕowĊ iáko Ǖie ǕmĊüi / á Merkurius Ǖie weǕeli / IowiǕzá teĪ widzĊ iaǕnącego / iuĪ moie práktykowánie mniĊ bliską Ǖmierü od Ǖyna mego obiecuie. (1550, Historyja Aleksandra Wielkiego) ‘And Anectanabus said to his son Alexander / look at the stars and watch how sad the Herculean star is / and Mercury is joyous / Jupiter is glowing too / my visions promise my approaching death from my son’s hands.’ b) A ieǕli záĞ w pół niebá Chyronowé rámiĊ / Nie przez miárĊ mglá wielka záǕłóni / [...] ze wǕchodu / nie z południá / wiátry obiecuje. (1585, Jan

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

85

Kochanowski, Phaneomena) ‘And if the great mist obliterates the Archer’s arm / […] it promises easterly, not southerly, winds.’ c) Sowa jednak nie wszystkim fatalna, bo lecąca wiktoriĊ wyznaczyła niegdy. W słotĊ gdy piszczy, pogodĊ obiecuje. (1745-1756, Benedykt Chmielowski, Nowe Ateny [INTRATEXT]) ‘The owl does not always mean misfortune for it sometimes brought victory. If it hoots in the rain, it promises good weather.’ d) Ranek najpiĊkniejszy, najpogodniejszy dzieĔ obiecywał. (1816, Maria Wirtemberska, Malwina [INTRATEXT]) ‘A most beautiful morning promised a sunniest day.’ e) MyĞlałem, Īe złodzieje, nagle wyszedłszy z krzaków lub jakiej podziemnej kryjówki, schwytali Lopeza i Moskita, mnie zaĞ bali siĊ zaczepiü, widząc moją postaü wojskową, która im bynajmniej nie obiecywała tak łatwego zwyciĊstwa. (1847, Jan Potocki, RĊkopis znaleziony w Saragossie [INTRATEXT]) ‘I thought the thieves had come out from behind some bushes or from another hiding place to catch Lopez and Moskito, but when they noticed I was a soldier, they were afraid to go for me as my military posture did not promise an easy victory.’ f) Plan był tak olĞniewający i tyle obiecywał zysków, Īe Ramzes XIII uczuł siĊ odurzonym. (1895-1897, Bolesław Prus, Faraon [INTRATEXT]) ‘The scheme was fantastic and promised such profits that Ramesses XIII felt overwhelmed.’ g) KilkanaĞcie drzew zdawało siĊ wprost stworzone do tego, by siĊ na nie wdrapaü, a jedno, wielka stara brzoza rosnąca tuĪ nad potokiem, obiecywało zapierającą dech w piersiach kombinacjĊ wspinaczki i kąpieli jednoczeĞnie. (1999, StraĪnicy Zachodu / Guardians of the West [PELCRA]) ‘Ten or so of the trees seemed to be growing there just for the purpose of climbing, and one, an old birch overhanging the stream, promised an exhilarating combination of climbing and swimming at the same time.’

Unlike groziü, which reached stage two only, obiecaü evolved into stage three. The examples in (15) show that it can be used epistemically with non-finite complements. The inanimate subject does not control the predicate as it is not the source of the promise, and obiecaü itself indicates evaluation by the speaker of the utterance. 15 a) BliĪej Warszawy tłumy stały siĊ tak gĊste, Īe tylko noga za noga moĪna siĊ było posuwaü. Elekcja obiecywała byü liczniejszą jak zwykle, bo nawet szlachta z dalszych, ruskich i litewskich, okolic, która z przyczyny odległoĞci nie byłaby dla samej elekcji przybyła, Ğciągała teraz do Warszawy dla bezpieczeĔstwa. (1884-1888, Henryk Sienkiewicz, Ogniem i Mieczem [INTRATEXT]) ‘Nearer Warsaw, the roads were so crowded that people shuffled slowly onwards. The election promised an attendance higher than usual as aristocracy

86

Chapter Seven

from the Russian and the Lithuanian lands, who would normally not be coming due to the distance, now were drawing to Warsaw to seek safety.’ b) Zimny wiatr ciągnął od pobliskiego ujĞcia do Dniepru i noc obiecywała byü niezbyt pogodna. (1884-1888, Henryk Sienkiewicz, Ogniem i Mieczem [INTRATEXT]) ‘A cold wind blew from where the river joined the Dnieper and the night did not promise to be warm.’ c) Tymczasem nie dojeĪdĪając Wąsoczy, zatrzymali siĊ w przydroĪnej karczmie, ‘Pokrzyk’ zwanej, roztasowali siĊ na nocleg, który obiecywał siĊ byü wygodny, bo w karczmie prócz karczmarza Prusaka nie było nikogo z goĞci. (1886, Henryk Sienkiewicz, Potop [INTRATEXT]) ‘However, instead of going to Wąsocz, they stopped at an inn called ‘Pokrzyk’, where they decided to stay the night. The lodging promised to be comfortable since there were no guest in the inn except for the Prussian owner.’ d) Chryzotemis … była u niego na wieczerzy, na której wyznała, Īe nie tylko Petroniusz, ale i jego lutnista znudził ją juĪ od dawna i Īe serce jej jest wolne. Przez tydzieĔ ukazywali siĊ razem, lecz stosunek nie obiecywał byü trwałym. (1896, Henryk Sienkiewicz, Quo vadis? [INTRATEXT]) ‘Chryzotemis…had supper with him. She confided to him that she had been bored not only with Petronius but also with his lutenist for a long time now and that her heart remained unoccupied. They were seen together for a week or so but their affair did not promise to last.’

As all the examples in (15)9 come from the nineteenth century, it may be deduced that stage-three obiecaü developed in the New Polish period. It must be noted, however, that the search for stage-three obiecaü in the corpora of Present Day Polish, which incorporate the data mainly from the last fifteen years, did not give any results10. This might be due to a substantial reduction in the infinitive use that occurred in the nineteenth century. Bajerowa (2000) reports a significant decline in the numbers of infinitival complementation in the years 1801-1870. As a result of the tendency, which continued in the twentieth century, the infinitival complements, including the verb byü ‘to be’, disappeared from the predicate at the end of the nineteenth century (Bajerowa 2000, 98-101). It seems plausible that this general tendency arrested the development of epistemic obiecaü at (an incipient) stage three. Since the infinitival complementation gradually disappeared from the predicate, the evolution into stage four was not triggered. Without due motivation, obiecaü did not extend to contexts involving human subjects. This is illustrated in (16a), 9

I assume that it is just a coincidence that they all come from the same author. Although infinitives are not found in the complementation of epistemic obiecaü any more, the examples in (15) do not sound incorrect, but rather a little bit archaic. 10

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

87

which in contrast to the English (16b) does not have the epistemic meaning and can be interpreted only as a stage-one construction. 16 a) On obiecuje byü dobrym mĊĪem. He promise-3sg be good husband ‘He promises to be a good husband.’ (non-epistemic only) b) He promises to be a good husband. (epistemic or non-epistemic)

As can be seen from Tables 1-4, epistemic groziü and obiecaü differ from their English counterparts. Although groziü developed a stage-two epistemicity, it could not evolve any further since it stopped taking nonfinite complements. Obiecaü, on the other hand, developed three stages, the third having not been firmly settled, though11. While groziü underwent only a semantic change, obiecaü underwent also a syntactic one: from stage one control verb it developed into stage-three raising verb. This indicates a loss of some of its categorial properties as a main verb, which is an evident example of grammaticalisation. Table 3. The development of epistemic groziü Stage 1

2

3 4

11

Meaning signaling the intention of inflicting something negative (non-epistemic use) to portend, presage (epistemic use)

Complementation type finite complements non-finite complements (Old Polish only) nominal complements

Subject animate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the threat

nominal complements

— —

— —

inanimate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the threat — —

It seems that epistemic obiecaü stopped occurring with the infinitival complement in the nineteenth century. Contrary to groziü, however, non-epistemic obiecaü continues to take non-finite complements.

88

Chapter Seven

Table 4. The development of epistemic obiecaü Stage 1

Meaning A commitment to do something (non-epistemic use)

Complementation type finite complements non-finite complements nominal complements

2

To pre-indicate something (epistemic use)

nominal complements

3

To pre-indicate something (epistemic use)

non-finite complements

4

—

—

Subject animate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the promise animate/-human, inanimate the subject controls the predicate, it is the source of the promise inanimate the subject does not control the predicate, it is not the source of the promise —

4. Evidence for grammaticalisation Grammaticalisation is a process whereby lexical items become grammatical ones, and grammatical items become even more grammatical (Hopper and Traugott 1993, Heine 2003, Heine and Kuteva 2003, Heine and Kuteva 2005, Heine and Kuteva 2006). It involves four interrelated parameters, enumerated in (17). 17. Parameters of grammaticalisation (Heine and Kuteva 2006, 58) a. extension (or context generalisation): use in new contexts suggests new meanings, b. desemanticisation (or ‘semantic bleaching’), i.e. loss in meaning content, c. decategorialisation, i.e. loss in morphosyntactic properties characteristic of lexical or other less grammaticalised forms, and d. erosion (or ‘phonetic reduction’), i.e. loss in phonetic substance.

These parameters give rise to a development that Heine (2003, 579) describes in the form of an overlap model. The model is presented in (18).

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

89

18. The overlap model a. There is a linguistic expression A that is recruited for grammaticalisation. b. This expression acquires a second use pattern, B, with the effect that there is ambiguity between A and B. c. Finally, A is lost, that is there is now only B.

The model clearly shows that grammaticalisation is a chain-like process. Nevertheless, as Heine (2003) points out, not all instances of grammaticalisation proceed to the last stage. The process may, for instance, be arrested at the second stage. Once the last stage is reached, however, B becomes a new grammatical category. According to Heine and Kuteva (2006, 79-95), the presence of functional threaten/promise is the result of a grammaticalisation process leading from the main verb to an auxiliary-like construction, and proceeding in accordance with the parameters presented in (17)12. Firstly, the use of threaten/promise is extended to contexts where they can be used with inanimate subjects, leading to stages two and three, and finally to stage four where they are further extended to contexts involving human subjects. Secondly, threaten/promise undergo desemanticisation: they lose their lexical semantics, and are reduced to a schematic meaning, expressing the epistemic modality of probability. Finally, threaten/promise are decategorialised towards an auxiliary as they lose some of their categorial properties as main verbs; their syntactic potential is now reduced as they cannot take a range of nominal and clausal complements. At stages three and four, they can select only the infinitival complement, and it is the infinitive that determines the valency of the construction. Traugott (1993; 1997) points out that raising verbs, in general, seem to be undergoing incipient grammaticalisation from main verbs to semiauxiliaries. This results from the loss of some of their categorial properties as main verbs. For instance, stage-three promise and threaten cannot assign a theta-role to their subjects and they can be used in idiom chunks (Traugott, 1997, 191). Moreover, as shown in (19), they cannot occur with progressive aspect. 19 a) Marianne is promising to be a good president. b) Marianne promises to be a good president.

(locutionary) (epistemic)

Epistemic threaten/promise, however, differ from other lexical raising verbs such as appear or seem. The latter occur with deontic and epistemic 12

Considering that this process of grammaticalisation is relatively short, phonetic reduction, which is the last process to occur, quite naturally has not taken place.

90

Chapter Seven

modal auxiliaries, whereas the former occur only with epistemic modal auxiliaries, which is a co-occurrence pattern they share with modal verbs. This is illustrated in (20) and (21) respectively (Traugott, 1997, 196). 20. The confrontation may/must appear to escalate into war (i) so that we can persuade Congress to declare war. (deontic) (ii) but it’s actually not doing so. (epistemic) 21. The house-husband may threaten to become a stereotype (i) *but that should be his decision. (deontic) (ii) but we’ll put an end to that. (epistemic)

5. Concluding remarks The data presented clearly show that threaten/promise underwent the process of grammaticalisation from main verb to semi-auxiliary. Although groziü/obiecywaü are not as advanced epistemic forms as their English counterparts, their incipient grammaticalisation is apparent. Like threaten, groziü is extended to contexts where it can be used with inanimate subjects. In the new context, it is reduced to an idiomatic use pattern (desemanticisation) with a limited syntactic potential (decategorialisation). Although it is not more than a minor use pattern, three parameters of grammaticalisation may be observed. Similarly, obiecaü experienced a series of developments, as a result of which it acquired a functional reading and lost the semantics and full syntactic potential of a lexical verb. There are grounds for claiming that it could have developed in the suggested direction had it not been for a substantial reduction in the infinitive use observed in the nineteenth-century Polish. This, however, reflects the nature of grammaticalisation, and shows that it is a complex and gradual process, which, even if given due motivation, may be arrested at any stage of its development.

References BaĔkowski, Andrzej. ed. 2000. Słownik etymologiczny jĊzyka polskiego [The etymological dictionary of Polish]. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. BoryĞ, Wiesław. ed. 2005. Słownik etymologiczny jĊzyka polskiego [The etymological dictionary of Polish]. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie. Heine, Bernd. 2003. Grammaticalisation. In The handbook of historical linguistics, ed. Brian D. Joseph and Richard D. Janda, 575-601. Oxford: Blackwell.

On the Development of Epistemic Meaning in English and Polish

91

Heine, Bernd and Tania Kuteva. 2005. Language contact and grammatical change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —. 2006. The changing languages of Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press. —. 2007. The genesis of grammar. A reconstruction. Oxford: Oxford: University Press. Hopper, Paul and Elizabeth Traugott. 1993. Grammaticalisation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Klemensiewicz, Zenon. 1985. Historia jĊzyka polskiego I [The history of Polish vol. I] Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Mayenowa, Maria, (ed.). 1974. Słownik polszczyzny XVI wieku. [The dictionary of 16th c. Polish]. Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy Imienia OssoliĔskich. Sławski, Franciszek, (ed.). 1952. Słownik etymologiczny jĊzyka polskiego. [The etymological dictionary of Polish]. Kraków: Towarzystwo Miłosników JĊzyka Polskiego. Traugott, Elizabeth. 1989. On the rise of epistemic meanings in English: An example of subjectification in semantic change. Language 65(1): 31-55. —. 1993. The conflict promises/threatens to escalate into war. In Proceedings of the Nineteenth annual Meeting of the Berkeley Linguistics Society, ed. Joshua S. Guenter, Barbara A. Kaiser, and Cheryl C. Zoll, 348-358. Berkeley, CA: Berkeley Linguistics Society. —. 1995. Subjectification in grammaticalisation. In Subjectivity and subjectivisation: Linguistic perspectives, ed. Dieter Stein and Susan Wright, 31-54. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —. 1997. Subjectification and the development of epistemic meaning: The case of promise and threaten. In Modality in Germanic languages. Historical and comparative perspectives, ed. Toril Swan and Olaf Jansen Westvik, 185-210. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. UrbaĔczyk, Stanisław, (ed.). 1956. Słownik staropolski [The dictionary of Old Polish]. Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy Imienia OssoliĔskich. Verhagen, Arie. 1995. Subjectification, syntax, and communication. In Subjectivity and subjectivisation: Linguistic perspectives, ed. Dieter Stein and Susan Wright, 103-128. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —. 2000. “The girl that promised to become something”: An exploration into diachronic subjectification in Dutch. In The Berkeley conference on Dutch linguistics 1997: the Dutch language at the millennium, ed. Thomas F. Shannon and Johan P. Snapper, 197-208. Lanham, MD: University Press of America.

92

Chapter Seven

Internet corpora INTRATEXT http://www.intratext.com PELCRA http://www.korpus.ia.uni.lodz.pl

CHAPTER EIGHT THE RHETORIC OF SPACE IN POLITICAL DISCOURSE: SPATIAL METAPHORS IN SELECTED SPEECHES OF THE EUROPEAN COMMISSION KATARZYNA MOLEK-KOZAKOWSKA

1. Introduction In Orientalism Edward Said (1978, 55) introduces the term “imagined geographies” to refer to the maps Western colonizers created in order to make sense of the colonized lands. This term stresses the degree of subjectivity involved in map-making, despite the authors’ claim to evidentiality and objectivity. Interestingly, some space-related conceptualizations derived from map-making, such as defining one’s position or point of view, drawing boundaries, demarcating centers and peripheries, or directing movements, still lie at the core of political activity. Needless to say, the way politics is “charted” in terms of spatial relations is deeply ideological: familiarity with a terrain and the extent of penetration of space translates into control over it. But in political discourse the conceptual domain of SPACE is not only used with reference to physical territory: it is frequently used to represent and legitimize political actors’ “imagined positioning” in the hierarchies and networks of political relations. As a result, SPACE has become a productive category that helps to delimit social identities, establish political priorities and enlist support for political actions. This is mainly because dominant representations of SPACE in political discourse are not neutral or stable: they are culture-specific and often dynamically constructed for political advantage. The aim of this paper is to demonstrate the ways in which some value-laden linguistic conventions of representing SPACE function as rhetorical tools. In particular, and following the methodological

94

Chapter Eight

guidelines of Critical Metaphor Analysis, this paper will review and assess critically some frozen spatial metaphors that have been applied for persuasive purposes in selected English-language speeches of some highranking EC officials.

2. A critical approach to conceptual metaphors According to cognitive linguists, the human mind is inherently embodied, so our ways of thinking of abstract, intangible concepts tend to be influenced by the cognitive structures derived from our direct bodily experience and projected onto them metaphorically (cf. Lakoff and Johnson 1980, 61-62; Lakoff 1990, 39-74; Jakel 2003, 44). For example, we tend to speak and think of life as if it were a kind of journey, of communication as if it were a delivery, or of texts as if they were containers. Many of such conceptual mappings from the “source” domains of our physical experience to abstract “target” domains are so “frozen” that we no longer register much semantic tension that might arise in the course of processing. In fact, some of the most common source domains of metaphors are those related to our patterns of spatial perception, manipulation of objects and bodily movements. For example, Krzeszowski (1997, 108-131) claims that the pre-conceptual image schemata (e.g. the UP/DOWN orientational schema, the FRONT/BACK orientational schema, the PART/WHOLE schema, the CENTER/PERIPHERY schema, the SOURCE/PATH/GOAL schema, the BALANCE schema, the FORCE schema, or the CONTAINER schema) are responsible for our conceptualizations of a large number of targets. Moreover, according to the “invariance hypothesis” (Lakoff 1990), an image’s component structure or cognitive topology is preserved under metaphorization. That is why LIFE IS A JOURNEY conceptual metaphor is structured by a cluster of variously foregrounded image schemata including FRONT/BACK, SOURCE/PATH/GOAL, FORCE, and BALANCE, resembling the spatial properties in terms of which a real journey could be characterized. However, the apparent naturalness of many space-related metaphorical mappings should not be treated as evidence for their lacking any rhetorical potential. The significance of “connotative” or “affective” meaning of linguistic expressions is central to axiological semantics, which treats conceptual metaphors as important tools of valuation. According to Krzeszowski (1997, 64), the axiological charge of a linguistic expression can be estimated against the backdrop of the Domain of Values, which consists of the vertical and horizontal axis. The former reflects the hierarchical order

The Rhetoric of Space in Political Discourse

95

derived from the Great Chain of Being (Lakoff and Turner 1989, 166181), which includes successive schemata of OBJECTS, PLANTS, ANIMALS, HUMANS, and GOD, while the latter is a value-laden continuum from the negative to neutral to positive charge, as epitomized by the SCALE schema. As a result, by identifying linguistic expressions used non-literally and analyzing their patterns of occurrence, it is possible to delimit prevalent conceptual metaphors, and to specify their implicit axiological charges. But, according to Krzeszowski, “from the axiological point of view the negative or positive value of the target domain always expresses the intent of the speaker. This means that every time an axiologically charged concept is linguistically expressed, whoever uses it is aware of its axiological charge and uses it deliberately to express his positive and negative attitude to the subject of discourse” (1997, 165). As a result, the speaker’s intention is derivable from the interpretation of the “affective” meaning of salient metaphors, both conventional and poetic, used consistently and repeatedly in discourse. This is one of the reasons why critical discourse analysts have begun to treat metaphors as an important object of research. Unlike cognitive semanticians, discourse analysts take interest in metaphorical expressions primarily in order to explain their social grounding and ascertain the pragmatic effects resulting from speakers’ preferences for certain conceptual metaphors. Their rationale for a critical approach to metaphors is that “[metaphors] are strategically fuzzy, ideologically based, have a social and cultural history, influence social and cultural frames and activate specific emotional commitments” (Fabiszak 2007, 33). Taking a critical approach to metaphors means that research is no longer focused on what metaphors tell us about the patterns of human cognition, but rather on how metaphorical constructions are being used for persuasive purposes. For example, Jonathan Charteris-Black, the founder of Critical Metaphor Analysis (CMA), considers metaphor to be a strategic resource: “a linguistic representation that results from the shift in the use of a word or phrase from the context or domain in which it is expected to occur to another context or domain where it is not expected to occur, thereby causing semantic tension” (2005, 14). Thus metaphor is an instance of language use and, in particular, a case where there has been a change in use (from a co-text where a given word normally occurs to a co-text where it does not), for example when abstract entities are reified (e.g. “the road to victory”) or personified (e.g. “history teaches us”). Although, the so-called conventional metaphors may no longer cause much semantic tension, they nevertheless cause a shift in our conceptual systems by guiding our information processing towards certain mappings and certain valuations.

96

Chapter Eight

Studying such metaphorical “profiling” (cf. DobrzyĔska 1995) in political discourse, which is inherently persuasive, may be motivated by the assumption of the “axiological invariance principle” (Krzeszowski 1997, 156-161). This means that the positive or negative valuations associated with the source domain are likely to be transferred onto the target domain in the course of metaphorical mappings. For example, the metaphorical representation of a momentous political decision as “the country’s darkest hour” makes it being perceived as negative and threatening, whereas calling it “the light at the end of the tunnel” invokes hope and optimism, as these are typical evaluations source domains of DARKNESS and LIGHT. Methodologically, Critical Metaphor Analysis entails a set of procedures derived from cognitive semantics and critical discourse analysis (cf. Fairclough 1989), which aim to expose the ideological underpinnings of metaphorical patterns in language. As with other CDA frameworks, there are three stages of CMA: firstly metaphors are identified, then they are interpreted and, finally, they are explained (Charteris-Black 2005, 34). Metaphors are identified with the aid of the category of semantic tension—when words occur in unexpected contexts and generate non-literal meanings1. The process of metaphor interpretation entails “abstracting” the underlying conceptual metaphors from a range of linguistic expressions used non-literally in a given sample. Identification and interpretation of salient conceptual metaphors is followed by an attempt at explaining their ideological motivation. For example, a sample of political speeches may feature a consistent pattern of expressions drawn from the domain of BATTLE. Some may be literal (referring to “defense policies”), while others may be metaphoric (referring to “defense” against “attacks” by political opponents, “defeating the opposition,” etc.). The explanation of the sample’s emergent conceptual metaphor POLITICS IS BATTLE exposes its evaluative and ideological implications. For example, with the increasing pervasiveness of linguistic expressions that realize the metaphor POLITICS IS BATTLE, we are guided to think about politics solely in terms of “a struggle for power” rather than in terms of “a search for consensus.” Thus, a critical approach demonstrates the effects of a shared assumption or implicit evaluation that underlies a metaphorical pattern.

1

Cf. the Pragglejaz procedure (Fabiszak 2007, 204-208).

The Rhetoric of Space in Political Discourse

97

3. A critical analysis of space-related metaphors in EU discourse This paper uses CMA methodology to demonstrate that the notion of SPACE is a pertinent source domain of value-laden metaphors that are used to represent some aspects of EU policies. It aims to identify and examine the emerging patterns of space-related metaphors in a sample of speeches by high-ranking EC officials. The material comprises three speeches2 concerning the economic and financial policies of the European Commission and includes approximately 5650 words. The selected speeches represent one subject area (reports and announcements of EU economic policy initiatives that follow the financial crisis), and all were issued in October 2008. This should make the analysis more focused and informative of the current preferences for metaphoric mappings so as to explain their potential ideological underpinnings. As has already been demonstrated by some cognitive linguists (cf. Jakel 2003, 220-270), economic discourse tends to be pervaded by conceptual metaphors because economic processes and relations are both abstract and oblique. For example, the metaphor MONEY IS WATER accounts for such conventional expressions as “economic liquidity,” “the trickle-down effect” or “pour money into industries.” In this section it will be shown that also space-related metaphors help to express nonrepresentational economic and political notions in more accessible ways. Moreover, it will be argued that many of the identified spatial metaphors are value-laden and work strategically to legitimize the EC’s financial policies and regulatory powers. One of the most salient metaphorical mappings in EU discourse involves the vertical orientation in space. In accordance with the Western cultural model of the universe reflected in the metaphor of the Great Chain of Being, the higher up the hierarchy of entities something is placed, the more unique properties and broader powers it is bestowed. The analyzed speeches indicate that EUROPEAN POLITICAL SPHERE is also metaphorically represented as a LADDER of entities, with individual member states at the base, regional congregations (e.g. Visegrad Group, Euro zone) at a higher level, and the EU as a superordinate structure of 2

President of the EC Jose Barroso’s Remarks on financial crisis publicized on 1 Oct 2008 (henceforth JB1/10), Senior Adviser of ECFIN Herve Carre’s The Euro, ten years on publicized on 6 Oct 2008 (henceforth HC6/10), and Jose Barroso’s From financial crisis to recovery: A European framework for action publicized on 29 Oct 2008 (henceforth JB29/10) available from http://europa.eu/rapid/pressReleases

98

Chapter Eight

governance (itself a conduit to the level of global leadership). The hierarchical order implies relations of dominance and is evident in discursive relegation of political actors to given levels, and/or listing them in the order of importance, as in: this is working well not only at the national level3 but also at cross-border level (JB1/10) preparation at the European level, by means of high level meeting in the coming days (JB1/10) we will work to improve cooperation and coherence at international level (JB29/10) we can make the most of the instruments we have at national and Community level (JB1/10) EMU has created a zone of macroeconomic stability (HC6/10) A deep euro area-wide interbank market developed rapidly (HC6/10) In terms of European and of global governance of the financial system (JB1/10) Beyond European solutions, there is also a need for global solutions (JB1/10)

As the axiological charge of such words as “high,” “top,” or “up” is predominantly positive, we also find expressions stressing the EU financial institutions’ “high level of credibility” (HC6/10), Euro’s “rising international status” (HC6/10), and the EC “top priority” being “to minimize the impact on jobs” (JB29/10). The vertical hierarchical mapping is arguably one of the most powerful image schemata representing the EC as a dominant force in the setting of European economic policy; yet, it is not the only one, since EU regulations are sometimes conceptualized as the basic “ground rules” of political activity, as “fundamental elements to establish and maintain trust between market players and member states” aimed to “level the playing field.” Also, the European Central Bank is a “fundamental… factor of stability” taking “the developments on the ground into account” (JB29/10). This suggests a related conceptual metaphor: EUROPE IS A BUILDING, in which EU LAWS and INSTITUTIONS become the (ground-level) FOUNDATIONS, on which other political actors can safely build their prosperity. Although this metaphorical mapping does not reflect UP IS GOOD axiological charge (Lakoff and Johnson 1980), it does have a persuasive potential to suggest that it is the state of the foundations that basically determines the stability and ensures the safety of a building. 3 italics highlight expressions that illustrate the space-related metaphorical representation under discussion

The Rhetoric of Space in Political Discourse

99

Alternatively, and quite predictably, the EC’s dominant position is legitimized through its projected spatial centrality. By applying the CENTER/PERIFERY spatial schema, often paired with the positively charged LINK schema (Krzeszowski 1997, 123-124), 4 the officials elevate the importance of the EC by metaphorically representing it as the HUB of European politics, hence stressing its role at the time of crisis. The EU institutions, including the European Central Bank, are metaphorically located in the middle, which helps them to coordinate the efforts of various parties, and implement the degree of international cooperation that would otherwise be impossible. For example, by activating players “on all sides,” by making them “all work together,” by ensuring “a united response” and “a wider economic policy coordination,” the EU promotes “the only way for 27 interconnected economies to weather the storm” (JB29/10). There is yet another salient conceptual metaphor that can be considered key to the legitimization of the EC’s economic policies. In the sample material, the EU MARKET is sometimes represented as a CONTAINER, yet the speakers strive to emphasize its “openness” and “spaciousness,” which can be effectively employed to preach against protectionist practices of individual member states: We must create new export opportunities (…) through a proactive market opening agenda, including our market access strategy (…). Trade barriers shut out prosperity (JB29/10) We will continue to use the WTO process and multilateralism to keep world markets open (JB29/10) This leaves room for manoeuvre in the current situation (JB29/10) The euro area should first expand (HC6/10) We have to cooperate and maintain reciprocal openness and a level playing field in order to resist a rising protectionist trend (HC6/10)

The metaphor of the EU as an OPEN SPACE is both misleading and ideologically motivated. Politically, the EU is a closed club of select elite countries and the access to it is duly gained, not granted. Economically, the EC must be warning against protectionism (see the deontic modality markers in the above examples), even at the time of crisis, in order to safeguard major European interests and to legitimize its own bureaucracy (which would be superfluous if individual member states decided they could do well without much of it). 4

Krzeszowski (1997, 128-131) also notes the positive charge of such schemata as FORCE, CONTACT and ATTRACTION which play a supporting role in this conceptualization.

100

Chapter Eight

As is the case with other studies of economic discourse (cf. Jakel 2003, 243-260), ECONIMIC DEVELOPMENT is often conceptualized as either MOVEMENT FORWARD or UP, and the quicker the movement the more positive charge is usually assigned. There is some evidence for both FORWARD and UP spatial dynamic in the analyzed sample, as in: We are ready to take further action… to put forward a European response (JB1/10) Public-private partnerships is one way forward (JB29/10) Intra-area FDI has also risen. At the level of 22% of GDP, total private and public investment has reached levels unseen since the early 90s (HC6/10). to start up new businesses quickly and cheaply (JB29/10)

The officials tend to stress the SPEED of the developments facilitated by the EU institutions: The Commission will explore (…) the scope for accelerating investment projects and bringing forward payments to Member States (JB29/10) We are accelerating the implementation of the “Ecofin roadmap” (JB1/10) Ecofin Council has endorsed a strategic roadmap for improving current crisismanagement procedures. This roadmap includes many of the next steps required to deliver more effective arrangements (HC6/10) This will be followed very quickly by the proposal for reform of the rules on rating agencies (JB1/10) [We need to] respond to the crisis by speeding up, not slowing down (JB29/10)

Whereas they tend to prefer the metaphor of GROWTH for slower than expected progress and long-term developments: On a per capita basis, job growth by far outpaced that in other mature economies (HC6/10) The fact is that growth in the euro area has been modest (HC6/10) The euro area needs to carry out comprehensive reforms to increase its growth potential (HC6/10)

Often it is implied that the main DRIVING FORCE behind the European economic development is the EC itself, variously conceptualized as the chief navigator (cf. “roadmap”), the skilled driver (cf. “accelerating”), or at least the supportive coach (cf. “growth potential”). In an extension of the above MOVEMENT metaphor, the financial/economic crisis (also sometimes represented through classic metaphors of “slowdown” or “downturn”) is frequently conceptualized in terms of BLOCKAGE. This is evident in the choice of such expressions as

The Rhetoric of Space in Political Discourse

101

“get through,” “overcome” the crisis5 (JB1/10) or “get [the economy] back on track,” “get unemployed people back into work” (JB29/10), or “move from financial crisis to sustainable development” (JB1/10). Such expressions evoke an image of a barrier in the way of European economic development that needs to be bypassed, sometimes with considerable collective effort (e.g. “we will push European coordination to strengthen solidarity” JB29/10; “facing these challenges will be an uphill struggle” HC6/10), and under the EC’s guidance. Finally, the most pervasive and persuasive spatial metaphor that functions to legitimize the powers of the EC is related to the BALANCE schema. As pointed out by Krzeszowski, “MAINTAINING BALANCE allows us to retain the UPWARD vertical position and continue FORWARD TOWARDS the GOAL. Therefore BALANCE and various associated linguistic expressions have a highly positive charge while IMBALANCE (…) a negative charge” (1997, 126). Many a time the EU institutions are represented as either (1) major forces responsible for the relative stability of the European economy, or (2) main actors ensuring the stabilization of markets after the experiences of major “shocks” or “pressures”: We stand ready to provide (…) assistance to other Member States experiencing balance of payments pressures or serious financial stability risks (JB29/10) [EC rules] guarantee a level playing field and ensure the viability and stability of companies (JB1/10) [An initiative by] Presidency of the Council is an international conference (…) to consolidate the overall efforts of stabilization of financial markets (JB1/10) We are much more resilient to external shocks thanks to EMU (HC6/10) Fiscal policies (…) also helping to underpin macroeconomic stability (HC6/10) Structural reforms enhance the capacity of the euro area to adjust to economic shocks that could otherwise cause (…) deterioration (HC6/10) The economy has been able to avoid major upheavals during the first decade of EMU (HC6/10)

To a large extent, the high rhetorical potential of BALANCE-related spatial metaphors is predicated on one’s negative experience of losing balance and suffering its various painful consequences. It can be assumed that, due to the fact that the research material reflects the EC’s position on 5

According to Nowakowska-Kempna (2008, 43), the meaning of the noun in many ontological metaphors is structured by the verb’s semantic and formal valence.

102

Chapter Eight

the 2008 economic crisis, the frequency of mappings drawn from the BALANCE schema is higher than average. Nevertheless the spatial metaphor of the EC as the STABILIZER is arguably of major significance in EU discourse.

4. Conclusions This paper demonstrates the main patterns in the application of spatial metaphors in a sample of speeches by prominent EC officials. With the procedures of Critical Metaphor Analysis, it has been possible to identify a few salient metaphorical mappings that are effectively used to evaluate positively the activities of the EU institutions and to legitimize their regulatory powers. The most salient space-related metaphors include those representing the EC as the top of the political ladder or as the hub of European political sphere, the EC regulations as foundations, the EU as an open container, the EU economic development as a movement forward or up (that can be accelerated by specific measures applied by the EC), the economic crisis as a blockage, and the EC policies as a guarantee of European balance and stability. This paper also shows that taking a cognitively oriented critical perspective on metaphor, as is the case with CMA, helps to calibrate and refine one’s methodology in order to transcend the superficial rhetorical level of analysis and proceed to the deeper conceptual layers of meaning activated by the socially embedded use of metaphors. In turn, CMA proves that metaphors have not only cognitive but also rhetorical potential: their use is largely motivated by the underlying ideological purposes.

References Charteris-Black, Jonathan. 2005. Politicians and rhetoric: The persuasive power of metaphor. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. DobrzyĔska, Teresa. 1995. Metafory wartoĞciujące w publicystyce i wypowiedziach polityków [Evaluative metaphors in current affairs and political speeches]. In Kreowanie Ğwiata w tekstach, ed. A.M. Lewicki and R. Tokarski, 201-214. Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS. Fabiszak, Małgorzata. 2007. A conceptual metaphor approach to war discourse and its implications. PoznaĔ: Wydawnictwo Naukowe UAM. Fairclough, Norman. 1989. Language and power. London: Longman. Jakel, Olaf. 2003. Metafory w abstrakcyjnych domenach dyskursu [Metaphors in abstract domains of discourse]. Kraków: Universitas.

The Rhetoric of Space in Political Discourse

103

Krzeszowski, Tomasz. 1997. Angels and devils in hell: Elements of axiology in semantics. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Energeia. Lakoff, George. 1990. The invariance hypothesis: Is abstract reason based on image-schemas? Cognitive Linguistics 1: 39-74. Lakoff, George and Mark Johnson. 1980. Metaphors we live by. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, George and Mark Turner. 1989. More than cool reason: A field guide to poetic metaphor. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Nowakowska-Kempna, Iwona. 2008. Towards an action-oriented theory of metaphor. In Metaphor and Cognition, ed. Zdzisław Wąsik and Tomasz KomendziĔski, 43-51. Frankfurt/Main: Peter Lang. Said, Edward. 1978. Orientalism. New York: Pantheon.

CHAPTER NINE THE ROLE OF THE SEMANTIC SPACE IN THE ANALYSIS OF THE FYR CONCEPT IN OLD ENGLISH AGNIESZKA WAWRZYNIAK

1. Introduction The aim of the present paper is to analyse FYR (PDE ‘fire’) as a mental object and a socially constructed one. The paper is an attempt to approximate the way the Anglo-Saxons perceived the FYR concept. The analysis of the concept is vital for it carried great cultural significance for the Anglo-Saxons, which is reflected in the rich lexicon in the field. The present paper will analyse FYR concept on two planes; cultural and semantic, which are closely intertwined and should, by no means, be viewed as separate criteria. It should also be emphasised that no paper on this subject has been issued so far. The analysis, based on Thesaurus of Old English, is an interdisciplinary study based on religion, medicine as well as social values and evaluative norms. In order to receive maximum accuracy of the semantic context of the lexemes, the study draws on the texts from the Toronto Corpus. On the theoretical level, the paper deals with the way humans categorise and designate their semantic space. Thus, the initial aim is to question the widely held approach to categorisation based on clear-cut borderlines, uniformity, and inflexibility and to highlight the shift in the overall approach to categorisation involving the active role of perception, reasoning and of cultural models. The paper consists of two steps: (1) the analysis on the level of the lexeme enables to introduce the hierarchy of lexemes within the conceptual category, thus to differentiate between lexemes with a varying degree of centrality rather than senses themselves. The study will concern figurative and lexical meanings; (2) the analysis on the level of conceptual category shows that particular senses form a

Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English

105

hierarchy. The structure of the FYR concept ought to be viewed as a holistic one with vague borderlines and non-discrete gradations evoking a concept of a continuum rather than delimited senses and clear-cut transitions.

2. The semantic analysis of the central aspects of the FYR concept in Old English Though in the course of time, prototype theories have acquired a wide appreciation and recognition among linguists and philosophers, who emphasise a decisive role of mind in the process of approaching the semantics of lexemes, still, initially the application of prototype theories was restricted to clearly-delimited entities. It was only with the advent of cognitive psychology when prototype theories started to be applied to fuzzy objects whose both cognitive and physical boundaries remain problematic. Kleparski (1997, 72), who ephasises the extension of prototype theories to gradable, fuzzy objects as well-justified, maintains that meanings of linguistic expressions are not mere reflections of properties and phenomena, but that they mirror human conceptualisation of the phenomena. In other words, prototype theories are construed on the premise that no objective relationship can be held between mind, language, and the physical world (Kleparski 1997, 75), and that language is a conceptual tool by means of which humans conceptualise their experience ( Leech 1974 in Kleparski 1997, 72).

2.1. The semantic analysis of the conceptual category of FYR FYR The analysis of the semantic field of FYR exemplifies a structure whose diversity and multiplicity of nuances can be found even among its central senses. To begin with, the insight into etymological roots can serve a linguist as the first stage in attesting the most possible cognitive image of fyr. Hence , the origins of fyr is traced back to the Indo-European root ( PU) accounting for fire and purification ( CEDEL, sv. fyr ) and can serve as a hint to the way fyr was usually conceptualised. One receives an image binding two contrasting values- good and evil. Fire should be viewed as a social rather than natural phenomenon divided along negatively and positively-loaded semantic poles. It is imbued with such values as punishment, torture, wilderness and severity. Negatively-loaded semantic pole:

106

Chapter Nine

1. frecne fyr (Daniel: Krapp 1931, 111-32) (horrible, savage fire) 2. frecne fyres wylme (Daniel: Krapp 1931, 111-32) (savage flames of fire) 3. cwelmende fyr (Christ: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 3-49) (destructing fire) 4. fyrene loccas (Exodus: Krapp 1931, 90-107) (overpowering, blocking fire-beams) Moreover, fyr as a destructive force can be illustrated by the following verbal connotations: 5. fyr nimeþ (Christ: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 3-49) (fire takes, seizes) 6. fyr cymþ (Salomon and Saturni: Dobbie 1942, 31-48) (fire comes) 7. fyr wreceþ (Genesis: Krapp 1931, 1-87) (fire punishes) 8. sleon fyr on (Daniel: Krapp 1931, 111-32) (set fire on) They present the image of fyr as a force coming unexpectedly and acting willfully obliterating everything. Positively-loaded semantic pole of fyr 9. clæne fyr (The Paris Psalter: Krapp 1932 b, 3-150) (pure fire) 10. ece fyr (Feria III in Letania maiore: Godden 1979, 190-98) (eternal fire). Used in this sense, fyr denotes purity, honesty, nobility and eternity. Moreover, it is imbued with God-like qualities and reflects beliefs AngloSaxons held about the nature of fire. Fyr is viewed as God. It embodies the power of God. The two expressions ( clæne fyr and ece fyr) reflect the Anglo-Saxons’ belief in the exceptionality of fire, its power, might and qualities. However, apart from senses denoting fire/ flame, fyr could also mean lightning, thus reflecting the process of metonymisation where the result stands for the action: 11. heofenlic fyr (James and Seven Sleepers: Godden 1979, 241-8) (lightning: fire from the sky) 12. fyr, hagol, snaw ( Christ and Satan: Krapp 1931, 135-58) (lightning, hail, snaw)

Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English

107

BÆL The analysis carried on the concept of bæl demonstrates that it is related to Latin focus (Aldhelm. De laude virginum: Napier 1900, no. 17) and pyra (Latin-Old English Glossaries: Quinn 1956, 69-219) as well as to Old Norse bâl (BT, sv. bæl), where it denoted fire on a funeral pyre. The analysis of the concept of bæl manifests only one kind of fire, therefore it need not be contextually modulated for the meaning to be clarified: 13. bæles cwealm (Andreas: Krapp 1932a, 3-51) where bæl is viewed as a burial place for torture/killing, which is yet strengthened by the Genitive form of bæl (the torture of the fire on the funeral pyre) 14. byrnan on bæle (Christ: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 3-49) (to burn in the fire) 15. on bæle forbærnan (Christ: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 3-49) (to burn up in the fire) Interestingly, bæl in Old English is never juxtaposed with adjectives. The reason accounting for this fact may be that bæl in itself is so contextrich, and meaningful to speakers of Old English that it does not require modifiers to evoke the expected mood. BRYNE According to available etymological sources (BT, sv. bryne), bryne is a common Germanic word (O. Sax. brunni, Goth. brunst, Icel. bruni) which embraces the following areas: -fire/ burning -fire/ flame -heat Regarding the sense fire/ burning, Corpus Toronto documents the following contexts: 16. unberendlican bryne on helle (De temporibus anni: 1942, 2-82) (unbearable, intolerable burning in hell) 17. on helle on ecan bryne wunian (The deeds of Antichrist: Bethurum 1957, 128-3) (to live in hell in the eternal burning) 18. se weallende bryne helles wites (Wednesday to Rogationtide: Cross 1982, 62-64) (the surging fire, the source of torture in hell) 19. afyllan mid færlicum bryne (Saint Martin: Skeat 1881-1900, II, 218312) (to kill with swift/ poisonous fire)

108

Chapter Nine

Such a sense of bryne evokes fear, threat, intimidation and can only be found in religious texts, where it signals unavoidable suffering. Contrary, however, to monosemous character of bæl, the usage of which precluded any adjectival modification, the semantic multiplicity of senses of bryne entails the usage of adjectival or nominal modifiers that would specify which sense of bryne is intended. Bryne in the sense of flame: 20. bryneleoma stod ( Beowulf: Dobbie 1953, 3-98) (the flame stood) 21. ligspiwelum bryne (The Judgement Day II: Dobbie 1942, 58-67) ( vomiting flame) 22. bryne stigeþ heah to heofonum) (The Phoenix: Krapp and Dobie 1936, 94-113) (the flame rises high to heaven). Bryne in the sense of heat: 23. sunnan bryne (Vitae Patrum: Assman 1889, 195-207) (the burning of the Sun) 24. wiþ wæteres bryne (Orosius, Book 2: Bately 1980, 35-53) (with the burning of water). The above senses completely deviate from the sense of burning or flame. Not only is the process of burning obliterated but the source of activity becomes transferred from the fire to the Sun and water highlighting just the heat itself.

2.2. Lexemes denoting fire through the process of metaphorisation Another characteristic trait in the semantic analysis of the Old English concept of fyr is that some lexemes related to the concept in question started to denote the sense of flame/ fire through the process of metaphorisation. BlÆD According to the Anglo-Saxon Dictionary (sv. blæd), blæd possesses a cognate OHG blat, which corresponds to Latin flatus, denoting blowing, blast. The recorded texts present very rare senses of blæd with reference to fire. Its nature approaches the nature of light rather than that of fire. The inner nature of the phenomenon, conveyed through the lexeme blæd, seems to be imbued with the abundance of light and its ennoblement rather than with visible flames and the possible destructive or punitive qualities. It is on the verge of light and fire.

Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English

109

25. beorht on blæde ( Elene: Krapp 1932a, 66-102) (light in the fire) 26. his blæd halegum scineþ ( Andreas: Krapp 1932a, 3-51) (His light / fire shines with holiness) 27. þe is neorxnawug blæda bearhtost, hama hyhlicest, halegum mihtu ontyned) (Beowulf: Dobbie 1953, 3-98) (It is a heavenly place: the brightest of all lights, the holiest of homes, embraced with holy might). BLÆST A similar process of metaphorisation can be observed in case of blæst, whose central sense of wind (Lat. afflatus blowing, breathing), gave rise to the one denoting flame. The reasons accounting for this process could be the following. First of all, fire was identified with the cause of movement (Bachelard 1975, 62). Secondly, fire constituted the projected image of the Sun on Earth (Bachelard 1975, 62), hence the possible analogy with the lightning and the wind, i.e., other natural phenomena. Furthermore, the OE Thesaurus lists only two senses of blæst, namely ‘wind’ and ‘fire’. In the process of the analysis of blæst, one can observe that the nature of the transferred sense was highly influenced by the nature of the central sense, where the constant movement, changeability and the fleeting character of wind were reflected in the marginal sense of blæst, namely the flame rather than more constant, holistic fire. 28. fyres blæst (The Phoenix: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 94-113) (the flame/ blowing of fire) 29. lyftgelawe leges blæstas ( Andreas: Krapp 1932a, 3-51) (airborne flames of the fire) Furthermore, Latin equivalents translated into Old English provide a further insight into the character of blæst. The flatus or afflatus were applied to violent, fatal, or even fiery wind. All in all, the received image of the sense of blæst is the changeable, fleeting character of flame characterised by violence and erupting forthfully. BLÆSTM Another lexeme, whose etymological roots are like those of blæst, is blæstm. The word is a hapax legomenon recorded with the sense of flame: 30. þæra liga blæstm (Scragg 1992, no.2; Scragg 1992, 52-64) (the blowing of the flame)

110

Chapter Nine

2.3. Central rare lexemes related to the FYR concept The analysis of the OE concept of fire shows also lexemes rarely recorded in OE texts and highlighting one specific attribute of fire, namely æled, brynewylm, fyrwylm, heaþuwylm, wannfyr, and ligbysig. Hence, æled amounts to conflagration, brynewylm and fyrwylm centralise the attribute of a wave, heaþuwylm highlights fierceness, wannfyr emphasises a lurid colour, whereas ligbysig should be referred to as rather vague with respect to the semantic content as it combines features of any type of fire.

2.4. Lexemes of limited usage with a pure reference to burning Apart from the lexemes centralising a visual image, there are also lexemes in the conceptual category which focus on the activity of burning and obliterate the visual image. This group includes such lexemes as bærness, bærnett and the least salient ones, namely æledness and forswæledness. As for bærness and bærnett, they are frequently recorded in OE corpora. Moreover, they develop two central senses, namely, the more central one showing the direct link with war, slaughter and annihilation, and the marginal ones underlying everyday activities. Regarding æledness and forswæledness, they are recorded as hapax legomena in the Toronto corpus. Both indicate the sense of victimisation.

3. The semantic analysis of the metaphorical aspects of the FYR concept in Old English FYR According to the Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, fyr denoted the following metaphorical senses: -curisity, fervour, strong felings -material, substance As the process of metaphorisation works by mapping more tangible, concrete phenomena upon the abstract ones, one should first summarise the most prevalent, central semantic attributes of fyr to obtain the idea of an integrated, holistic system. Thus, the most widely contextualised central attributes in the semantic area of fyr, which later are realised in the metaphorical extensions, are wilderness, severity and punishment, which constitute the image of fire willfully encroaching on another territory, which can be illustrated on the example of compounds: 31. fricgan þurh fyrwet (Christ: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 3-49)

Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English

111

(to know through curiosity) 32. fyrwet frinnan (Elene: Krapp 1932a, 66-102) (to ask out of curiosity) 33. fyrwet brecan (Beowulf: Dobbie 1953, 3-98) (to get incited) Thus, fyrwet amounting to curiosity is wild, untamed and acts independently of one’s will as if encroaching on a territory for which punishment is expected. Apart, however from senses evolving around emotional states, fyr denotes also material/substance, thus performing the role of metonymic extensions. Yet, the received substance is, by no mean of a uniform character; 34. fyr wudu byrneþ (The Paris Psalter: Krapp 1932b, 3-150) (the cross burns) 35. fyrena flan (Genesis: Krapp 1931, 1-87) (arrow, dart) 36. fyr bend (Beowulf: Dobbie 1953, 3-98) (lock) 37. fyr gemylted (Wednesday in Easter Week: Godden 1979, 164-8) (iron: the melted material) Thus, what the reader is confronted with is an incompatible range of tools starting from Cross, arrows, lock and the material that melts as a result of a high temperature. BRYNE Relying on the Thesaurus as well as on the contexts in Corpus Toronto, one can state that bryne covers a wide range of emotions, such as curiosity/ burning desire, fervour, irritation as well as overwhelming sadness. Thus, contrary to fyr, whose marginal senses were used metaphorically, to cover emotional states, and metonymically to apply to materials, the semantics of bryne is restricted to emotional states, yet incompatible and diversified: -curiosity/ burning desire 38. heortan hædre wealleþ hwilum me bryne stigeþ (Bede, History of the English Church and Nation, Book 4; Miller 1890-98, 252-384) (the anxiety increases at heart while the curiosity progresses) 39. byrnende mode (Fourth Sunday after Pentecost: Text from Clemoes 1955-6, 347-59) (the burning spirit) 40. on bryne, on costnunge (De temporibus anna: Hegel 1942, 2-82) (out of curiosity, temptation)

112

Chapter Nine

-zealousy/ bad feeling 41. þe bryne of ande of byternesse heore agene sawla (Scragg 1992, 5264) (the burning of zealousy, of bitterness of individual souls) -sadness 42. bryne tear (Christ: Krapp and Dobbie 1936, 3-49) (the burning tear) Furthermore, apart from emotional states, bryne is also used to denote illness so the disturbances within the body, as well as cures for the illness: 43. Se ilca bisceop from bryneadle wæs gehæled (Bald’s Leechbook: Cockayne 1864-6, II,18-156) (The same bishop recovered from the fever) 44. wiþ maganbryne, wlaco wæter menge wiþ þone gelestan ele, sele drincan (Bald’s Leechbook: Cockayne 1864-6. II, 174-298) (in case of stomach-ache, mix lukewarm water with the oil, drink from the vessel) 45. smyrian mid bryne sealfe ( Bald’s Leechbook: Cockayne 1864-6, II, 304-58) (smear with the burning ointment). BLÆD In the process of the analysis of blæd, one can observe that the nature of the metaphorical senses is highly influenced by the etymology of the lexeme in question ( flatus-wind), where the fleeting character, changeability and passing are reflected in one of the metaphorical senses of blæd, namely in success thus implying momentary state and transience. Moreover, blæd in the sense of fire is imbued with abundance of light and its ennobling qualities. All in all, it applies to the enlightening effect at peak level. Whereas, blæd amounting to success is used to denote climax of achievements, thus reaching one’s peak. Furthermore, both senses are of a fleeting character. Although they signalise the peak, both also carry the implication that such illuminating moments are temporary and that both may lose their brightness: 46. wesan blæd mid (Genesis: Krapp 1931, 1-87) (to be proud of) 47. he heold rice, eþeldreamas, blæd mid bearnum (Genesis: Krapp 1931, 1-87) (he held a kingdom, he felt happy and proud with his children). Thus, approaching the structure and the semantic undertones of blæd, one can point to primary and secondary metaphorisation that has taken place in the case if the given lexeme. To begin with, the central sense (

Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English

113

flatus-wind) has given rise to yet another sense, namely fire. The whole process may be referred to as a primary metaphorisation. Nevertheless, due to the importance of the concept of fire and the core values it has been associated with, one may assume that blæd functions not so much as a metaphorical extension of the central concept but that it could supersede in the usage its central sense, the wind. In other words, what might take place is the change of the status whereby the actual metaphorical function takes over the role of central attributes and acts accordingly. Given this approach, one can explain the further metaphorical usage of blæd, namely success, which operates on the same attributes as blæd denoting fire. Thus, one can refer to the process of transfer of the semantic traits from the category of fire upon the category of success as a secondary metaphorisation. BLÆST Similarly to blæd, blæst belongs to this class of lexemes whose metaphorical senses have given rise to fire. However, contrary to blæd, blæst does not develop any further metaphorical senses thus confining its semantic content to the fire itself.

4. Tools adopted for the analysis of FYR concept The analysis of the FYR concept should proceed along the vertical axe embracing two hierarchies; running on the level of lexemes and of the conceptual categories. In other words, in the first- step study, the hierarchy proceeds from the most central senses to the most marginal ones within particular lexemes. Only after this analysis has been carried out, can the linguist draw a hierarchy of the lexemes from the most central ones to the ones invented to suit the context. Moreover, in the analysis of lexemes or conceptual categories, a certain set of parameters should be adopted, namely frequency, informational density and flexible adaptability. To begin with, adopting the parameter of frequency, one receives roughly two groups of lexemes. The first one embraces fyr, bryne and bæl, thus lexemes occurring in a variety of genres, and the second one which includes rarely occurring lexemes, namely æled, bælwylm, fyrwylm, heaþuwylm and ligbysig. Regarding the parameter of informational density, it is FYR whose senses are more abundant and diversified than these of BRYNE. Fyr can be characterised in terms of: 1) an active or passive agent bringing about punishment or destruction, a phenomenon embodying the power of God 2) a phenomenon embodying the power of God 3) a lightning

114

Chapter Nine

Bryne, on the other hand, records a less diversified set of senses, such as flame or the activity of burning. Hence, its more limited character in comparison with FYR. Consequently, the two hitherto introduced parameters have the immediate bearing upon the flexible adaptability of senses. Therefore, whereas fyr can be applied either metaphorically to cover fierce emotions or metonymically to give rise to materials, bryne can mostly be extended to illustrate emotions. As for bæl, thus lexeme also frequently recorded in OE texts, one should maintain that it is semantically monosemous and does not develop any metaphorical senses, thus manifesting a low degree of flexible adaptability. Regarding lexemes rarely recorded in OE texts or invented with the sole purpose of meeting the necessities of the texts, one encounters the following ones: æled, brynewylm, fyrwylm, heaþuwylm, wannfyr, and ligbysig. Each of them highlights only one attribute. Analysing the above mentioned senses, one should indicate that regardless of frequency, informational density and flexible adaptability, all of them evoke a visual image. However, apart from the lexemes centralising a visual image, there are also lexemes which focus on the activity of burning and obliterate a visual image. This group includes lexemes in the category of bryne, thus less salient ones- bærness and bærnett, as well as the least salient ones: æledness and forswæledness. They exhibit low degree of informational density and no flexible adaptability.

5. The semantic analysis of the conceptual category of FYR As the lexemes constituted the domain of FYR have already been analysed and compared with one another, the next step is aimed at drawing the hierarchy of the lexemes in the conceptual category itself with respect to prototype members, marginal ones and the main line of development. Thus, the prototype member, the best exemplar of the FYR domain is fyr. One can list several reasons accounting for fyr being the part that closes the whole category. First of all, fyr gives rise to two semantic lines, the first of which projects the visual image of fire and the second one covers the consequence, the final effect, thus burning. Secondly, it specifies the basis for assimilating non-prototypical members via the link of similarity to its attributes. Moreover, the metaphorical mapping in the most frequently occurring lexeme, thus in fyr, creates a common field, which is fierce emotions, for all metaphorical senses in the conceptual category.

Semantic Space in the Analysis of the FYR Concept in Old English

115

5.1. The two semantic lines The first semantic line groups lexemes that project the visual image of fire via the link of similarity. Consequently, this line includes lexemes constituting a hierarchy proceeding from the frequently occurring ones, such as bæl, blæst, blæd to those invented for the sole purpose of the text, namely æled, brynewylm, fyrwylm, heaþuwylm, wannfyr and ligbysig. By the same token, the second line initiated by BRYNE, being linked to FYR via the visual image of a flame, covers lexemes that focus on the activity of burning itself rather than on the image and embraces such lexemes as bærness, bærnett and these occurring once in the text, namely æledness and forswæledness. Nevertheless, on approaching the second semantic line, one notices that no clear-cut boundaries can be imposed that would evoke the sole activity of burning and completely obliterate the visual image. In other words, the senses form a continuum and these rendered as more central, thus exhibiting rich informational density and flexible adaptability, can be characterised by a high degree of vagueness of boundaries. Hence, they possess the attributes that border on the two semantic lines, thus on the visual image and on the activity of burning. The lexeme, which combines the attributes of both lines, is bryne, which semantically functions as a bridge initiating a new category but at the same time it preserves some of the attributes of the first semantic line, namely of the flame. However, the only lexemes that can only be localised on the second line and do not exhibit any link with the visual image are these characterised by low frequency, low informational density and limited, if any, flexible adaptability thus bærness, bærnett or æledness and forswæledness.

References Aitchinson, Jean. 1992. Words in mind. Oxford: Blackwell. Bachelard, Gaston. 1975. WyobraĪnia poetycka. Warszawa: Biblioteka krytyki współczesnej. Baldinger, Kurt. 1980. Semantic theory. Towards a modern semantics. Oxford: Blackwell. Bosworth, Joseph and Toller Northoote, (eds). 1882. An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary. London: Oxford University Press. Fisher, Kerstin. 2000. From cognitive semantics to lexical pragmatics. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Healey, Antonette di Paolo, (ed.). 1986. Dictionary of Old English Corpus. Toronto: The University of Toronto Press.

116

Chapter Nine

Kleparski, Grzegorz. 1997. Theory and practice of historical semantics: The case of Middle English and Early Modern English synonyms of girl/young woman. Ortony, Andrew. 1998. Metaphor and thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

CHAPTER TEN PLACE AND RELIGIOUS LANGUAGE URSZULA WIECZOREK

There are many aspects of the issue of space. I would like to present a few thoughts about one particular lexeme that exemplifies the spatial parameter of religious language, namely place. And here I want to consider two aspects of it—the literal meaning of sacred place on the one hand, grounded in our experience, and the metaphorical meaning of the word—on the other. The question I ask in the first part of the present paper is: What is a sacred place? And one of the questions that arise in the second part is this: Is the spatial specification inevitable in Christian explications and descriptions of human fate after death? Do such terms as heaven, purgatory, hell have to be described as places? But the starting point for the discussion is the notion of religious language itself. The lexemes religion, religious are used with reference to one religion only, namely Christianity.

1. Religious language There are a lot of terms denoting religious language: the language of faith, biblical language, liturgical language, language of sacrum, etc. A lot has been written on the subject (Makuchowska 2007) and various definitions have been proposed. (Matuszczyk 2007). For example Kłoczowski (1995), a theologian, claims that there is no such thing as religious language—a religious person speaks a natural language, for example Polish or English—what we mean when we use the term is a religious use of language. So it is the context which helps us to decide whether a given utterance appears in a religious situation or not. From the linguistic point of view Grzegorczykowa (2005) defines the religious use of language in two ways; in the broader sense of the term religious language means all the utterances that appear in the sphere of religion, and in the narrower sense—only those utterances that perform a

118

Chapter Ten

specific function in the society, namely, which enable the speaker to participate in the transcendental reality. She distinguishes between three types of religious utterances of the second type, which present the reality of sacrum: prayer (giving thanks and praise, profession of faith, petitions, requests, eg. Our Father), liturgical acts (the Eucharist, sacramental acts) and cognitive acts (theological texts, sermons, commentaries, catechism), (Grzegorczykowa 2005, 17). The central role in religious language is played by liturgical acts. What is characteristic of sacramental acts is that they are are performative in the sense used by the speech act theory because they create new reality, eg. by christening, a child is given a new name. In this respect sacramental acts are similar to magic acts. However, these two types of linguistic activity must clearly be distinguished from each other. Sacramental acts differ from magic acts, as Sambor (1998) points out, in that they aim at obtaining God's grace; in case of a tribal magician, he—unlike a priest who is only a tool in God's hands, is the one who activates the supernatural powers, only he knows how to do it, and furthermore, he can do harm to someone. What is also important is the fact that the effectiveness of a magic act comes from the act itself and is dependent on the given place (e.g. churchyard) and time (e.g. location of heavenly bodies). Sacramental acts are effective because God is the highest power—the choice of place and time is not decisive about their effectiveness.

2. Sacred Place: the literal meaning The importance of place, as has been said above, is one of the aspects in which sacramental and magic acts differ. But place with regard to religious utterances means first of all a fragment of space where man meets God and communicates with Him. Where does the congregation pray? Where is mass said? Where can a believer receive teaching and grow in his understanding of God's ways? Even if one can pray at home and study the Bible at university, one needs a separate place of worship and prayer. We need a sacred place, where using religious language is necessarily linked with participation in the transcendental reality. To put it simply, a sacred place is a specific type of space, separated from secular space, because it is marked by the presence of the Holy Spirit, who may manifest Himself in a variety of ways. Entering the church, believers make the sign of the cross and sprinkle themselves with holy water; by doing so they leave the secular world behind and enter the presence of God. The lexeme place is the most general notion, a basic category of our experience, which, unlike the word space, is less abstract and has many

Place and Religious Language

119

metaphorical extensions. Therefore, we must distinguish between two different ways in which sacred place can be understood: literal and metaphorical. Four out of more than ten meanings of the term place (e.g. twelve in Hornby 1981, 635) may represent the spatial specifications of religious language. Let us consider some of the expressions that exemplify these four dimensions, which are axiologically marked as positive and represent the sphere of spiritual values (Puzynina 1991). All the quotations have been taken from the Bible. The first dimension is a particular part of space occupied by God, for example holy ground: when Moses met God in the burning bush on Horeb, the mountain of God, he heard, as we read in the Old Testament: “Do not come near here. Draw your sandals from off your feet, because the place where you are standing is holy ground” (Ex 3:5). The burning bush is the sign of the presence of God; in some other fragments other signs have been mentioned: the cloud of smoke, wind, etc. It is important for Moses to show reverence to God by taking off his shoes. What is also interesting here is that mountains were of natural significance for religious leaders and the whole community; they brought them closer to heaven; so we come across the expressions such as His holy mountain or the mountain of God. The Psalmist (Psa 24:3) asks: “Who may ascend into the mountain of Jehovah and who may rise up in his holy place?” The second meaning of place is city, town, village, country. The most obvious example here is Jerusalem as the holy city, where God is worshipped and where Solomon's Temple was situated. In Psalm 48:1 we read that “Jehovah is great and much to be praised in the city of our God”. In the practical sense, holy cities have not lost their special significance since biblical times and, although Christians still go on pilgrimages to Jerusalem, there are other popular goals of pilgrimages. Some of the most famous are: Fatima, Lourdes, Guadalupe, La Salette and CzĊstochowa. Like hundreds of years ago, pilgrims expect to have a spiritual experience there and sometimes even physical healing, because such places “speak of the power and grace of God that was evident in the lives of past believers” (The Sacred Place 2000:47). In the broader perspective the definite descriptions the Promised Land or the Holy Land are used in the same sense as the holy city—they are holy because Canaan was a land promised to the Jews by God when they left Egypt, and Palestine was a country in which Jesus lived. The Holy Land remains the destination of the pilgrimages of Christians from all over the world. The third literal meaning of sacred place is a building or area for some particular religious purpose. In the Old Testament Solomon's Temple was the most important of such buildings. Furthermore, within the area of the

120

Chapter Ten

temple one can distinguish a particular area devoted to ritualistic purposes, called the Holy of Holies, the most sacred chamber in the Jewish temple, which could be entered by the High Priest only once a year on Yom Kippur. When hundreds of years later, St. Paul was teaching in the Temple in the company of pagans, Jewish religious leaders arrested him and accused of wrong teachings: “This is the man who has actually brought Greeks into the Temple and defiled this sacred place” (Acts 21: 28). Temple is not the only term denoting sacred places. Other similar nouns are the following: church, chapel, sanctuary, shrine, oratory, prayer house, etc. The fourth meaning of sacred place is estate, house or the home of God on earth. When Jesus was twelve years old, he got lost during the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. His parents found him in the Temple talking to Jewish teachers. He said: “What made you search for me? (…) Did not you know that I must be in my Father's house?” (Luke 2: 49). Incidentally, it is worth mentioning that in the New Testament the understanding of worship with regard to places was changed. Jesus in his conversation with a Samaritan woman at the well says: “the hour is coming, when neither in this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you people worship the Father (…) the true worshippers will worship the Father with spirit and truth” (J 4:21,23). Therefore it is no longer important where people worship God; what is important is the attitude of their hearts and minds and prayer in the Holy Spirit. The uniqueness of a sacred place seems to have disappeared; it is the believer's heart or soul that is the holy ground, as St. Paul says: “Do you not know that you are God's Temple, and that God's Spirit has his home in you?” (1Cor, 3:16) and, in another place (Ef 2:22): “you are being built up together, to be a dwelling place for God, through the Spirit”. And this is precisely one of the metaphorical extensions of the words temple and dwelling-place, as they do not have the literal meaning of a building, but denote a human body or the body of believers, respectively.

3. Sacred Place: the metaphorical meaning Being an actual geographical location, a sacred place also belongs to the sphere of faith and means Heaven. What is characteristic of this is that we cannot actually see or touch it because we have no access to the transcendental reality, which surpasses our understanding. The Scripture speaks of it as “What eyes never saw, nor ear never heard, what never entered the mind of man—even all that God has prepared for those who love him” (1Cor 2:9). It is the object of our faith, life with God and the

Place and Religious Language

121

saints, the ultimate purpose of a Christian's life after death. The Bible shows us heaven with reference to our earthly experience. Let us provide some examples: 1. Father's home or the House of the Father—Jesus said to his disciples: “In my Father's Home there are many dwellings. I am going to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). 2. throne of God—The author of the letter to the Hebrews ( 8:1) says that “Jesus has taken his seat at the right hand of God's majesty in Heaven”, and further: “The heavens are a throne for me, and the earth a stool for my feet” (Acts 7:49). 3. the holy city (or city of God), new Jerusalem (or heavenly Jerusalem)—John in his vision saw “the Holy City, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God and prepared as a bride for her husband” (Rev. 21:2). 4. Paradise was the word that Jesus used on the cross, just before his death, when he promised heaven to one of the criminals, crucified with him, saying: “I tell you, this very day, you shall be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23: 43). Paradise alludes to the garden of Eden, where God created Adam and Eve, and where they lived before they rebelled against God, being in perfect harmony with nature and its Creator. 5. The Kingdom of God (or Heaven) (or the Kingdom of the Father) will be a place where all the saints will gather for a feast: “People will come from East and West and from North and South, and take their places at the banquet in the Kingdom of God” (Luke 13:29). 6. The Temple of God: “He who conquers—I will make him a pillar in the Temple of God” (Rev 3:12). It is worth noting that many of the expressions listed above represent both interpretations of the sacred place—literal and metaphorical. In fact, we come across the same expressions that were used literally, e.g. temple, holy city, etc. for example, Jerusalem, an earthly city, becomes new Jerusalem, where all the saints will reign with God. So far I have presented only one side of the axiological scale. It must be mentioned, however, that there are a number of words denoting places at the opposite, negative side of the scale. If a sacred place is God's dwelling, and is axiologically loaded as positive, then the place of the “absence” of God is occupied by satan and those who reject God's grace. Literally—the damned place, and metaphorically—hell. In case of the metaphorical interpretation the axiological axis should be vertical rather than horizontal: heaven is always “above”, and hell is “below”, i.e. under the earth. .

122

Chapter Ten

4. The language of place or condition? Historically, heaven, purgatory and hell were explained and depicted by the language of Place. Hell, for example, according to Christian sources, is a place under the earth, where the damned suffer in the fiery furnace, a place of torture in the underground. But this is not the only possible way of describing human destiny after death. Indeed, in the history of the Church, as we read in the book entitled Sacred Place (2000), two tendencies have been observed. The first one, characteristic of earlier periods, emphasises the spatial aspect of the word meaning—Heaven is a place were God lives and is worshipped. The second tendency, opposite to it, observed relatively lately among charismatic Christians, focuses on the personal experience of God; therefore heaven is rather a state of perfect happiness with God, and not a place. It is interesting that even the synonymous expressions of heaven, provided by the Synonym Finder (1978) seem to confirm this observation; they are grouped in two main categories, describing heaven as a sacred place (or eternal life), or as a state of perfect happiness. Here are some expressions from the first group: paradise, world to come, next world, our Father's house, Divine abode, Abraham's bosom, heavenly kingdom, kingdom of God, city of God, city of light, heavenly city, Zion, New Jerusalem, throne of God. Most of the words can be found in the Bible. The second group of synonyms includes: ecstasy, pleasure, supreme happiness, perfect content, glory, delight. Incidentally, the word heaven, as Puzynina points out (1991, 180), appears in everyday idiomatic language that lost its connection with religion. For heaven's sake! Good Heavens! in English or niebo w gĊbie in Polish are examples of the process of the desacralisation of religious language. Now, let us consider the following description of hell which presents the traditional approach. It comes from Sister Lucy's Diary, where she described the vision of hell that Our Lady showed the children at Fatima: We saw (…) a vast sea of fire. Plunged in this fire we saw demons and the souls of the damned. The latter were like transparent burning embers or blackened or burnished bronze, having human forms. They were floating about in that conflagration, now raised into the air by the flames which issued from within themselves together with great clouds of smoke. Now they fell back on every side like sparks in huge fires, without weight or equilibrium, amid shrieks and groans of despair (…) The demons were distinguished (from the souls of the damned) by their terrifying and repelling likeness to frightful and unknown animals, black and transparent like burning coals. (www.bibleprobe.com/fatimavisions of hell.html)

Place and Religious Language

123

It may have been easier for an average Christian to imagine hell depicted in this way, perhaps because we all experience suffering as part of our lives, whereas it is much more difficult to think of eternity, life without pain and tears. We simply do not know what it means to resurrect from the dead. Although hell is commonly represented in our language as place, this language is inadequate. Nowadays, there is this tendency to depict hell as a state of eternal separation from God rather than a literal lake of fire. Pope John Paul II explains that we should interpret the images of hell correctly. The images of hell that Sacred Scripture presents to us (…) show the complete frustration and emptiness of life without God. Rather than a place, hell indicates the state of those who freely and definitely separate themselves from God, the source of all life and joy. (Pope John Paul II, July 28, 1999, in: www.ewtn.com.library/ PAPALDOC /JP2)

Let us now read sister Faustina's vision of hell, which emphasizes the nature of the eternal torments, using personalistic language. Today I was led by an angel to the chasms of Hell. (…) The kind of tortures I saw: the first torture that constitutes hell is: the loss of God the second is: perpetual remorse of conscience the third is: That one's condition will never change the fourth is: the fire that will penetrate the soul without destroying. A terrible suffering since it is a purely spiritual fire, lit by God's anger the fifth torture is continual darkness and a terrible suffocating smell, and despite the darkness, the devils and the souls of the damned see each other and all the evil, both of others and their own. the sixth torture is: the constant company of satan the seventh torture is terrible despair, hatred of God, vile words, curses and blasphemies. These are the tortures suffered by all the damned together, but it is not the end of the sufferings. There are special tortures destined for particular souls. These are the torments of the senses. Each soul undergoes terrible and indescribable sufferings related to the matter in which it has sinned. (Diary 741, in: www.divinemercysunday.com)

5. Conclusion Summing up, when we talk about spiritual reality, we are determined by spatio-temporal coordinates, which means that we have to use notions familiar to us. One of such fundamental notions is place. The realistic descriptions of heaven and hell in the past were to underline the contrast between earthly life, full of sufferings, and eternal life, where death has

124

Chapter Ten

been conquered. But, whatever we can say about God, even using metaphorical descriptions, are only approximations of the spiritual reality, which cannot be transmitted with words.

References Grzegorczykowa, Renata. 2005. Wypowiedzi religijne jako forma uczestnictwa w sacrum. In JĊzyk religijny dawniej i dziĞ II, ed. S. Mikołajczak and ks T. WĊcławski, 15-24. PoznaĔ: Wydawnictwo PoznaĔskie Studia Polonistyczne. Holm, Jean and Bowker John, (eds.) 2000. Sacred Place. London/New York: Continuum. Internet Bible. Online at www.apologetyka.com/biblia Katechizm KoĞcioła Katolickiego. 1994. Warszawa: Pallotinum. Kłoczowski, Jan Andrzej. 1995. JĊzyk, którym mówi człowiek religijny. Znak, XLVII/12, 5-17. —. 2001. Drogi człowieka mistycznego. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie. Makuchowska, Marzena. 2007. Bibliografia jĊzyka religijnego 1945-2005. Tarnów: Biblos. Mistrz Eckhart. 1988. Kazania i traktaty. Warszawa: Instytut Wydawniczy PAX. Przybył ElĪbieta, (ed.). 2001. Ostatnie przed wielkim milczeniem. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Nomos. Puzynina, Jadwiga. 1991. JĊzyk wartoĞci. Warszawa: PWN. Rodale, J. I., (ed.). 1978. The synonym finder. New York: Warner Books. Sambor, Jadwiga. 1998. Magiczne i religijne (chrzeĞcijaĔskie) akty mowy. In Człowiek-Dzieło-Sacrum, ed. S. Gajda and H.J. Sobeczko, 103-112.. Opole: Uniwersytet Opolski. Zawada, Marian. OCD. 2004. Antologia mistyczna. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Karmelitów Bosych.

Internet sources www.bibleprobe.com/fatimavisions of hell. www.divinemercysunday.com/visions.html www. ewtn.com.library/PAPALDOC/JP2

CHAPTER ELEVEN THE RHETORICAL SITUATION AS MENTAL SPACES ENACTED BY THE RHETOR JAN ZALEWSKI

1. Introduction The notion of rhetorical situation was introduced into modern rhetorical and composition theory by Bitzer in 1968. Since then, Bitzer’s conception of the rhetorical situation has been subjected to a great deal of critical reassessment. Young (2001, 275) observes that “few contributions to rhetorical theory have generated as much controversy over such a sustained period.” She offers an extensive examination of the criticisms, covering three decades following the publication of Bitzer’s essay. However, neither her discussion nor the discussions offered by Bitzer’s critics over the years explicitly address the epistemological assumptions underlying Bitzer’s theory of situation. I see it advisable then to reexamine Bitzer’s proposal in view of the epistemological changes that have taken place in the cognitive sciences as a result of connectionist and, lately, enactivist theories of cognition (cf. Thompson 2007). In the first part of this paper, I show that Bitzer’s (1968) proposal is cast in objectivist terms and smacks of situational determinism. In the second part, I offer a conception of the rhetorical situation which is inspired by both connectionist and enactivist views of cognition.

2. A critique Classical cognitivism and the whole tradition of positivist science have shaped our commonsensical understanding of the context of situation as given to us in perception. When we think about perception, we make vision rather than touch our paradigm, using the mirror-image metaphor. Thus, we are convinced that when we open our eyes, we are given all at

126

Chapter Eleven

once an objective picture of the world out there. As Noë explains (2004), perception is then understood as internal representation, therefore a process in the brain rather than more generally as interaction with our environment. It is in essence the understanding of perceived situation as given to us in perception which underlies Bitzer’s (1968) discussion of the rhetorical situation. As he states, Rhetorical situation may be defined as a complex of persons, events, objects, and relations presenting an actual or potential exigence which can be completely or partly removed if discourse, introduced into the situation, can so constrain human decision or action as to bring about the significant modification of the exigence. (1968, 6)

Bitzer leaves no doubt about the objective character of the rhetorical situation, referring to it as “a natural context” (5) and explaining that The exigence and the complex of persons, events, objects and relations which generate rhetorical discourse are located in reality, are objective and publicly observable historic facts in the world we experience, are therefore available for scrutiny by an observer or critic who attends to them. (1968, 11)

Bitzer distinguishes three elements constitutive of the rhetorical situation. First, there is the exigence defined as “an imperfection marked by urgency” (6) or, in other words, “a thing which is other than it should be” (ibid.). A positive modification of the exigence (i.e., a change) is to be effected by rhetorical discourse itself or with its assistance. Second, the exigence specifies the audience, that is, those addressed in the discourse who are “to be constrained in [their] decision and action” (ibid.) as agents of change. And as the third element, there are the constraints “which influence the rhetor and can be brought to bear upon the audience” (ibid.). As Bitzer explains, constraints are “persons, events, objects, and relations which are part of the situation because they constrain decision and action needed to modify the exigence” (8) and, importantly, he refers to them as “constraints given by situation” (ibid.). Bitzer (1968, 1) begins his essay by stating When I ask, What is a rhetorical situation?, I want to know the nature of those contexts in which speakers or writers create rhetorical discourse: How should they be described? What are their characteristics? Why and how do they result in the creation of rhetoric?

The Rhetorical Situation as Mental Spaces Enacted by the Rhetor

127

Evidently, Bitzer assumes here that rhetorical discourse is the result of a rhetorical situation. He describes the rhetorical situation as objective and existing prior to discourse, and claims that a situation/exigence is rhetorical “when it is capable of positive modification and when positive modification requires discourse or can be assisted by discourse” (7). Thus, he sees rhetorical discourse as resulting from and affecting an objective situation existing independently of discourse. When he says that rhetoric is situational, he means “the power of situation to constrain a fitting response” (11). He claims that “every situation prescribes its fitting response; [however] the rhetor may or may not read the prescription accurately” (ibid.). All these claims can certainly be contested. We may be inclined to agree with Bitzer when he maintains that “so controlling is situation that we should consider it the very ground of rhetorical activity” (3) and that “the situation which the rhetor perceives amounts to an invitation to create and present discourse” (9). However, the sense of these claims depends on what is meant by perception. As I argue below, the rhetor’s perceiving must not be understood as prior to and independent of his/her creating or presenting discourse. In Bitzer’s view, discourse arises in response to objectively perceived situations. In his words, the situation then “dictates” (5), “controls” (6), or “prescribes” (11) the response. At the same time he claims that it is the situation as the rhetor “perceives” it (e.g., pages 7 and 9). Yet Bitzer understands perception in terms of the mirror-reflection model.1 Accordingly, he makes two fundamental claims: First, it is “the situation [that] controls the rhetorical response…. Not the rhetor… but the situation is the source… of rhetorical activity” (6). And second, the rhetor is “obliged [Bitzer’s emphasis] to speak at a give moment… to respond appropriately to the situation” (5). In making these claims, Bitzer is guilty of the kind of situational determinism that for example Reiley (1996, 123) has criticized, saying that “in this view, participants are deprived of real autonomy, all self-awareness even, because situations are seen as directly imposing certain types of behavior, the ‘appropriate’ behavior.” Bitzer avoids saying that anyone can produce rhetorical discourse by saying that it is only rhetorical discourse that requires the presence of a rhetorical situation and not the other way round. It is so because “the exigence may or may not be perceived clearly by the rhetor or other persons in the

1 The idea of perception as a constructive act became a persistent theme in cognitive psychology beginning in the 1970s (e.g., Neisser, 1976).

128

Chapter Eleven

situation” (1968, 7). However, the key concept of clarity of perception is left unexplained here.2

3. The proposal True to its time, Bitzer’s (1968) conception of the rhetorical situation is essentially realist-objectivist, that is, based on the assumption of a knowable knower-independent reality. Within the cognitive sciences, a rejection of this stance goes back to Lakoff and Johnson’s (1980) proposal for an experientialist epistemology, claiming that the knowable is not knower-independent. As Lakoff (1988) later explained, this view embraces a basic realism and does not deny an objective existence of the world out there. However, as Varela, Thompson and Rosch (1991) argued, our cognition is not representation of an independent world: In fact, cognition is neither recovery of an outer objective reality nor projection of an inner subjective reality. Instead, as Maturana and Varela (1987) argued, all cognition is best viewed as embodied action, that is, all knowledge arises from (through metaphor and blending, as Fauconnier and Turner 2002 explain) and is reducible to simple bodily experiences, which means that it is grounded in action in context. This enactivist view of cognition amounts to the claim that all knowledge is rooted in and emerges from our human implicit sociocultural experience, involving our interactions with one another and with our environment, all made possible by our human bodies. Connectionist and enactivist explanations of cognition are both motivated by the recognition that the brain is a neural network. Accordingly, we can envision cognition, including writing as construction of conceptual content, as flow of energy through neural networks, with specific patterns of neural activation resulting in specific cognitiveaffective states. Adaptive capabilities of the nervous system and repeated interactions between the organism and the environment bring about a correlation of changes in the nervous system with changes in the environment. Such correlated changes are referred to as structural coupling between organism and environment (Maturana and Varela 1987). Crucially, however, the environment does not directly specify changes in the nervous system but only triggers them, which amounts to the claim that perception is not a mirror reflection of the world out there (i.e., cognition is not mental representation). As Maturana and Varela (1987, 2

It must be admitted that some answers to the problem of what it might mean that a situation may not be “perceived clearly” can be found in his later essays (e.g., Bitzer 1978). Those answers are along the lines of social construction of knowledge.

The Rhetorical Situation as Mental Spaces Enacted by the Rhetor

129

164) explain, “the nervous system functions as a closed network of changes in relations of activity between its components.” They call this fundamental property of a nervous system its operational closure. Structural coupling and operational closure are two basic notions in enactivism, resulting in the claim that the environment in perception emerges through the organization of the nervous system, which itself is the result of both evolutionary (i.e., biological and cultural) processes and developmental (i.e., social-cognitive) processes. This view stands in clear contrast to the current-traditional view of perception as input from world to mind, as opposed to action understood as output from mind to world, with cognition seen as the mediating process. This traditional view is what Hurley (1998) calls the input-output view of the relation between perception and action. Noë (2004, 3) observes that if the input-output view was true, it would be possible “to disassociate capacities for perception, action, and thought.” Taking the enactivist view, he argues that such disassociation is not even conceivable, perception being intrinsically active. The central theme of his book is that “perceptual experience acquires content thanks to the perceiver’s skillful activity” (ibid.). As I argue here, the rhetorical situation as perceived by the rhetor acquires content thanks to the rhetor’s history of skillful interactions with his/her natural and social environments. Equating cognitive processes with the flow of energy through neural networks, we can use connectionism as a source of metaphors to help us understand the cognitive processes in writing. In a connectivity pattern of neuronal activity, there is the higher-activated center and the loweractivated periphery. Accordingly, we can draw a distinction between an internal and an external context of knowing. The internal context is defined in terms of (a) high activation, which results in higher awareness (cf. Chafe 1994), (b) explicit/concept-driven processing (cf. Roediger and McDermott 1993), and (c) it is to be associated with processes of generating conceptual content in the process of writing. By contrast, the external context is defined in terms of (a) low activation, resulting in lower awareness, (b) implicit/stimulus-driven processing, and (c) this lowactivated periphery is to be associated mainly (but not exclusively) with the kinds of knowledge called preconceptual or tacit, and resulting from the organism’s continuous interaction with its environment. Patterns of activation in the external context give rise to and support specific activation patterns in the internal context of an overall coactivation network, which is a way of saying that the process of constructing conceptual content is dependent on concurrently activated tacit knowledge.

130

Chapter Eleven

Thus, the external context very much determines what conceptual content (higher-activated internal context) is constructed. 3 The above distinction between the internal and external contexts of knowing can be useful in capturing an essential difference between speaking and writing. Speaking is situated in the sense of being intended for people co-present with the speaker, while writing is desituated in the sense of being intended for people not co-present with the writer. Speakers can accordingly rely on implicit/stimulus-driven processing of the immediate context of situation, and be less aware of how such processing supports their construction of conceptual content. In fact, speech is produced under stringent time constraints and so gives speakers much less chance to shift their attention away from matters of current concern (i.e., the current internal context of knowing). By contrast, writing is not subject to such time constraints and since it is desituated (addressed to people not present), writers need to be more aware of how implicit/stimulus-driven processing of their immediate context of situation may have adverse effects on their communication with their audience. This means that they need to be able to shift attention away from the process of generating content in writing and use conceptual processing to consider, first and foremost, their exigence/purpose and audience as well as appropriate strategies to reach the audience and achieve the purpose. Such metacognitive concerns need to be occasionally brought into the internal context of knowing in order to constrain subsequent construction of conceptual content in writing. When the activation of these metacognitive concerns subsides, such conceptual bundles fade into the external context of knowing guiding later construction of relevant content. In Bereiter and Scardamalia’s (1987) model of the writing process, the presence of metacognitive concerns is a characteristic of the mature, that is, rhetorical approach to writing (known as knowledge-transforming) while their absence marks the arhetorical approach (known as knowledge-telling). In the proposed framework, the essential difference between the mature (rhetorical) and immature (arhetorical) writing process consists in the presence versus absence of explicit/concept-driven processing in the 3

In the connectionist view, knowledge is stored in the strengths of neural connections, which are the result of frequency of processing and are thus responsible for which connectivity patterns are possible and more likely. Accordingly, patterns of activation in the periphery (implicit knowing) will give rise to some rather than other patterns in the internal context of knowing (explicit, conceptual knowledge). This view is compatible with social determinism, the external context being equivalent to implicit sociocultural knowledge, but does not have to lead to social determinism (see my Conclusion).

The Rhetorical Situation as Mental Spaces Enacted by the Rhetor

131

construction of the external context of knowing. Accordingly, the rhetorical situation is defined as an explicitly constructed external context of knowing, described above as conceptual bundles that have faded into the external context and support construction of the internal context of knowing. As noted above, mature writers use conceptual processing to formulate such metacognitive/rhetorical concerns as their exigence, audience, and purpose in writing. Such activated conceptual bundles recede into the external context of knowing when their activation subsides (due to focal attention shifting to new concerns), yet they guide later generation of relevant conceptual content in writing. Following Fauconnier and Turner (2002), such conceptual bundles can be defined as mental spaces, that is, “small conceptual packets constructed… for purposes of local understanding and action” (102). By contrast, immature writers are not capable of bringing in any metacognitive/rhetorical concerns, when focusing their attention on generating conceptual content in writing. Their construction of conceptual content, instead of being constrained by an explicitly constructed external context of knowing (i.e., by a rhetorical situation), is in fact controlled by the implicit/stimulusdriven construction of their immediate writing situation.4 In view of the desituatedness of writing, such implicit/stimulus-driven construction of the external context of knowing will be inadequate for most writing tasks. As enactivism has it, the environment in perception emerges through the organization of the nervous system. Likewise, the rhetorical situation as perceived by the rhetor emerges through the organization of the external context of knowing as an explicitly constructed network of mental spaces. Thus, the rhetorical situation is said to be enacted by the rhetor, which means that it acquires content thanks to the rhetor’s purposeful activity based on a history of social-cognitive experiences.

4. Conclusion Our cognition depends on our experiences made possible by our having bodies equipped with specific sensorimotor capacities exercised in specific natural and social environments. As Varela, Thompson and Rosch (1991) put it, “cognitive structures emerge from the recurrent sensorimotor patterns that enable action to be perceptually guided” (173). They claim that “sensory and motor processes, perception and action, are fundamentally inseparable in lived cognition” (ibid.). Thus, the rhetor’s 4

For a analysis of an immature writer’s problem with generating relevant content, offering an explanation in terms of the distinction between the rhetorical situation and the writing situation, see Zalewski (2008).

132

Chapter Eleven

perception of a rhetorical situation is linked to the sum total of his/her interactions within natural and social environments. Accordingly, multiple (and often conflicting) perceptions are possible by linking a rhetorical situation to different socio-cultural contexts and ideological systems. The conception of the rhetorical situation as mental spaces enacted by the rhetor in rooted in enaction (i.e., cognition as embodied action) as inherently dialectic (action and perception being inseparable) and puts the rhetor in control, avoiding not only Bitzer’s (1968) situational determinism but also allowing us to overcome social determinism (see footnote 3), by pointing to the possibility of purposeful selective activation of mental spaces (i.e., conceptual bundles in the external context of knowing) to guide construction of conceptual content.

References Bitzer, Lloyd. 1968. The rhetorical situation. Philosophy and Rhetoric 1: 1-14. —. 1978. Rhetoric and public knowledge. In Rhetoric, philosophy, and literature: An exploration, ed. Don Burks, 67-94. West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press. Bereiter, Carl and Marlene Scardamalia. 1987. The psychology of written composition. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Chafe, Wallace. 1994. Discourse, consciousness, and time: The flow and displacement of conscious experience in speaking and writing. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Fauconnier, Gilles and Mark Turner. 2002. The way we think: Conceptual blending and the mind’s hidden complexities. New York: Basic Books. Hurley, Susan. 1998. Consciousness in action. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Lakoff, George. 1988. Cognitive semantics. In Meaning and mental representations, ed. Umberto Ecco, Marco Santambrogio and Patrizia Violi, 119-54. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Lakoff, George and Mark Johnson. 1980. Metaphors we live by. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Maturana, Humberto and Francisco Varela. 1987. The tree of knowledge: The biological roots of human understanding. Boston: New Science Library. Neisser, Ulric. 1976. Cognition and reality: Principles and implications of cognitive psychology. San Francisco: Freeman. Noë, Alva. 2004. Action in perception. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press

The Rhetorical Situation as Mental Spaces Enacted by the Rhetor

133

Reiley, Philip. 1996. Developmental sociolinguistics and the competence/ performance distinction. In Performance and competence in second language acquisition, ed. Gillian Brown, Kirsten Malmkjaer and John Williams, 118-35. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Roediger, Henry and Kathleen McDermott. 1993. Implicit memory in normal human subjects. In Handbook of neuropsychology, vol. 8, ed. Francois Boller and Jordan Grafman, 63-131. Amsterdam: Elsevier. Thompson, Evan. 2007. Mind in life: Biology, phenomenology, and the sciences of mind. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Varela, Francisco, Evan Thompson and Eleanor Rosch. 1991. The embodied mind: Cognitive science and human experience. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Young, Marilyn. 2001. Lloyd F. Bitzer: Rhetorical situation, public knowledge, and audience dynamics. In Twentieth-century roots of rhetorical studies, ed. Jim Kuypers and Andrew King, 275-301. Westport, CT: Greenwood. Zalewski, Jan. 2008. Immediate versus displaced consciousness in writing: An EFL student’s problem with a writing task. Linguistica Silesiana 29: 199-209.

PART III: SPACE IN THE COMMUNICATIVE ENCOUNTER: DISCOURSE STUDIES AND TRANSLATION

CHAPTER TWELVE PSYCHOLOGICAL DISTANCE IN FATHER-SON CONFLICTS PRESENTED IN 20TH CENTURY AMERICAN DRAMA JOANNA BOBIN

The term “personal distance” in the present paper is not derived from the study of proxemics; it is not meant as the physical space separating the individuals in interaction. Here, it is understood as one quality of “close” or “distant” relationships; it is the intuitive emotional sense of likemindedness and similar behavior dispositions. It is frequently referred to as: distance, social distance, solidarity, closeness, familiarity, relational intimacy (Spencer-Oatey 2008). In the context of family, relationships between interactants are assumed to be close; consequently, there should be greater understanding, interpersonal knowledge, as well as predictability (Cupach 1980). However, one paradox that can be observed is the impact of intimacy on the choice of conflict strategies. As Culpeper puts it: “In a familiar relationship … one may know which aspects of face are particularly sensitive to attack, and one may be able to better predict and/or cope with retaliation that may ensue” (Culpeper 1996, 354). Far from being a regularity, this pattern may nevertheless be found in fatherson conflicts presented in drama. One of the ways to understand and analyze verbal conflict is through the framework of impoliteness (Culpeper 1996; 2003; 2005). It is parallel, and therefore complementary, to the influential theory of politeness proposed by Brown and Levinson (1987) that concentrated on the ways in which we employ communicative strategies in order to promote or maintain social harmony. Both frameworks are based on the notion of face and face wants. Brown and Levinson define face as “the public self-image that every member wants to claim for himself” (Brown and Levinson 1987, 61). In Brown and Levinson’s theory politeness serves as redressive action to counteract potential face damage: positive politeness strategies

Psychological Distance in Father-Son Conflicts

137

involve affirmation of common ground and showing interest, while negative politeness strategies include indirectness and mitigation to minimize imposition on hearer. Not all threats to face, however, will be unintended or minimized. It thus transpires that face is a good way to understand verbal offense. In drama, just as in real life, conflicts occur in which participants deliberately damage each other’s face, offering no redress whatsoever. That is what instrumental, or strategic, impoliteness means: “communicative strategies designed to attack face, and thereby cause social conflict and disharmony” (Culpeper et al. 2003, 1546). Impoliteness is communicated by the speaker intentionally and perceived as such by the hearer. The five impoliteness superstrategies outlined by Culpeper include: (i) bald on record impoliteness: expressed in a direct, unambiguous way where face concern is not minimized or suspended; (ii) positive impoliteness: strategies designed to damage the hearer’s positive face wants; (iii) negative impoliteness: strategies designed to damage the hearer’s negative face wants; (iv) sarcasm: obviously insincere politeness; (v) withhold politeness: the absence of politeness where it is expected (Culpeper 2005, 41-42). Though universal, face is nevertheless culture-specific and contextdependent. As a result, it would be somewhat simplistic to think of face only in terms of individual identity, freedom and autonomy. SpencerOatey proposed a modified framework for conceptualizing face, in which she underscored the salience of the interactants’ social identity (SpencerOatey 2005; 2007; 2008). The notion of “rapport management (the management of harmony-disharmony among people)” is not based on strictly linguistic grounds but rather on management of interpersonal relations (Spencer-Oatey 2008, 13). Spencer-Oatey defines face following Goffman (1972, 5) as “the positive social value a person effectively claims for himself by the line others assume he has taken during a particular contact” (Spencer-Oatey 2002, 540) and further develops it as consisting of two interrelated aspects: quality face and social identity face. Quality face, sometimes regarded as the counterpart of Brown and Levinson’s positive face, is connected with one’s self-esteem, and defined as “a fundamental desire for people to evaluate us positively in terms of our personal qualities; e.g. our competence, abilities, appearance etc.” (Spencer-Oatey 2002, 540). The other aspect, social identity face, is related to one’s sense of public worth and is “concerned with the value that we effectively claim for ourselves in terms of social or group roles” (2002, 540). Threats to social identity face could therefore include the expression of impolite beliefs about the hearer’s position in a hierarchy,

138

Chapter Twelve

undermining their professional attainments or reversing the roles in the family. In interpersonal conflict, it is the choice of strategies of impoliteness and broadly perceived attack on face sensitivities that determine the nature of conflict: its form, focus, intensity; and consequently, the degree of closeness and remoteness between the conflict participants. This personal distance between participants may shift over the course of the conflict, and the final degree of separation seems to be reflected in the conflict termination formats proposed by Vuchinich (1990). Hocker and Wilmot (1995) offered another classification of conflict as being generally destructive or constructive in nature, depending on the selection of communicative strategies and the outcomes. Their description of destructive conflict practices can be related to the ways in which face may be attacked as outlined within the three above mentioned frameworks. A significant feature of destructive conflict is the lack of solution; a feeling of loss on both sides. Whether the issues have been resolved and the air cleared is also the factor that becomes apparent in the analysis of conflict endings. Moreover, it can be assumed that the application of destructive conflict techniques results in creating greater personal distance between participants, whereas constructive conflict strategies improve communication and enhance the level of closeness between conflict participants. The first characteristic of destructive conflict is its acceleration to the point where it turns into an escalatory spiral. As Hocker and Wilmot put it, “escalatory conflict spirals have only one direction—upward and onward” (1995, 32) and usually rely on highly emotional exchanges displaying power, expressing anger or threats, diffusing the real focus of the conflict while picking on minor—or conversely, very general—issues. In their study of the dynamics of impolite exchanges, Culpeper et al. (2003) suggested a typology of responses to impoliteness. In brief, when confronted with a deliberate face threatening act, one may choose to respond or not to respond; while responding, the interactant may either accept or counter the attack; and the counter response may be considered as defensive, e.g. contradiction of the face threatening act, or offensive, that is, countering face attack with face attack (Culpeper et al. 2003). Repetition of the pattern of offensive counter response escalates the conflict, and in cases where the strategy used each time tends to be stronger, it turns into a spiral (Lein and Brenneis 1978). Another characteristic of destructive conflict is avoidance. Avoidance does not prevent or solve the conflict; it freezes it. As a consequence of reduced interaction, conflict participants become estranged and the “barrier between them becomes harder and harder to breach” (Hocker and Wilmot

Psychological Distance in Father-Son Conflicts

139

1995, 34). Communication is seriously hampered when anger, resentment or disappointment are not expressed (or expressed indirectly, e.g. complaining to a third party). Another commonly observed feature of destructive conflict is the participants’ inflexibility and rigidity: their unwillingness to adapt to changing circumstances (1995, 35), often resulting in communication break-up, as the conflict remains unresolved and is likely to be resumed and recycled on another occasion. In situations of unequal power of conflict participants, the relations of dominance and subordination may cause the dominant party to suppress the conflict, as in the course of open confrontation their position of power may be threatened (1995, 36). However, pretending that the conflict does not exist and dismissing the subordinate party results in destructive conflict. Finally, “demeaning and degrading verbal and nonverbal communication results in and reflects destructive conflict practices” (1995, 36). Verbal abuse, shaming, demeaning, blaming—these strategies can all be classified as aggravated face attacks; mostly instances of positive and negative impoliteness. As such, they leave no room for negotiations, cooperation, resolution or understanding. Constructive conflict, on the other hand, is built on the foundations of flexibility: participants “try new strategies when the old ones are not working, communicate differently when needed, and change goals when necessary” (Hocker and Wilmot 1995, 37). In constructive conflict, participants primarily care to maintain their relationship and they do not let their conflict get out of hand. Conflict talk is a dynamic process. Participants’ attitudes change, their priorities change, the amount of available information changes, cultural or sociological norms can prevent the development of the conflict—in general, whatever the initial orientation, conflict talk may well be subject to multiple reframing (Grimshaw 1990). The five patterns of conflict closing exchanges proposed by Vuchinich (1990) seem to resemble the above mentioned communicative patterns of destructive and constructive conflict. Submission is a direct or indirect acceptance of the opponent’s position and acceptance of a subordinate position. In terms of face, it is very costly. Accepting dominance is downgrading, so it is avoided. Submission terminal exchange appears to be connected with the operation of power: in intergenerational conflict, it is the older participant who may claim more power and demand submission from their younger opponent. This closing seems to be part of destructive conflict, and as a face damaging act it leaves the participants more distant than they initially were. A conspicuous form of submission is dominant third-party intervention: the conflict

140

Chapter Twelve

exchange is disturbed and terminated by a third party, usually one that has more power than the two (or more) original participants. In father-son conflicts, however, this pattern is interestingly reversed as it is the mother who terminates the conflict, although, for the most part, mothers are treated as inferior by their husbands (and sometimes sons). Frequently, this is the only way to end conflict spirals, where too much is at stake for either of the opponents to submit. This closing pattern also illustrates increasing remoteness between the participants, as both lose face in the act of forced concession. Another type of closing is withdrawal, where one of the opponents withdraws from the conflict episode either by ceasing the exchange without submission or by physically leaving the area. This pattern is socially disruptive, as it blocks any communication: questions are left unanswered, accusations unexplained. Withdrawal may, however, prevent further escalation of the conflict. A fairly non-hostile closing pattern is a stand-off, in which participants “change the speech activity and drop the conflict form” (Vuchinich 1990, 130). It commonly terminates conflicts in which the opposing positions are going to be maintained. This characteristic suggests that stand-off is related to destructive conflict practices, as neither of the opponents is willing to submit or compromise. Yet, as this type of terminal exchange entails no face loss, it may be assumed that the degree of emotional distance does not necessarily change. In addition, it seems to reflect at least some agreement; namely, agreement on the need to find a way out of the activity. Finally, the closing format which renders the conflict constructive is compromise. It may be perceived as “costly” in terms of face, as it requires making and accepting concessions, but the face loss is minimized because compromise “establishes a middle ground which moves toward the other position but still opposes it” (Vuchinich 1990) and concession offering is self-initiated rather than imposed. The subsequent conflict episode can be analyzed with regard to the characteristic features of destructive or constructive conflict. Particular strategies of impoliteness and rapport management employed by participants determine the nature of the conflict while the ending either reinforces it or signals a shift (a destructive conflict may end e.g. in a compromise). Example 1 from Long Day’s Journey into Night by Eugene O’Neill Context: TYRONE (father) and JAMIE (elder son) talk about EDMUND (younger son), who is sick. JAMIE Poor kid! God damn it! (He turns on his father accusingly.) It might never have happened if you’d sent him to a real doctor when he first got sick.

Psychological Distance in Father-Son Conflicts TYRONE What’s the matter with Hardy? He’s always been our doctor up here. JAMIE Everything’s the matter with him! Even in this hick burg he’s rated third class! He’s a cheap old quack! TYRONE That’s right! Run him down! Run down everybody! Everyone is a fake to you! JAMIE (contemptuously) Hardy only charges a dollar. That’s what makes you think he’s a fine doctor! TYRONE (stung) That’s enough! You’re not drunk now! There’s no excuse– (He controls himself—a bit defensively) If you mean I can’t afford one of the fine society doctors who prey on the rich summer people– JAMIE Can’t afford? You’re one of the biggest property owners around here. TYRONE That doesn’t mean I’m rich. It’s all mortgaged– JAMIE Because you always buy more instead of paying off mortgages. If Edmund was a lousy acre of land you wanted, the sky would be the limit! TYRONE That’s a lie! And your sneers against Doctor Hardy are lies! He doesn’t put on frills, or have an office in a fashionable location, or drive around in an expensive automobile. That’s what you pay for with those other five-dollars-to-look-at-your-tongue fellows, not their skill. JAMIE (with a scornful shrug of his shoulders) Oh, all right. I’m a fool to argue. You can’t change the leopard’s spots. TYRONE (with rising anger) No, you can’t. You’ve taught me that lesson only too well. I’ve lost all hope you will ever change yours. You dare tell me what I can afford? You’ve never known the value of a dollar and never will! You’ve never saved a dollar in your life! At the end of each season you’re penniless! You’ve thrown your salary away every week on whores and whiskey! JAMIE My salary! Christ! TYRONE It’s more than you’re worth, and you couldn’t get that if it wasn’t for me. If you weren’t my son, there isn’t a manager in the business who would give you a part, your reputation stinks so. As it is, I have to humble my pride and beg for you, saying you’ve turned over a new leaf, although I know it’s a lie! JAMIE I never wanted to be an actor. You forced me on the stage. TYRONE That’s a lie! You made no effort to find anything else to do. You left it to me to get you a job and I have no influence except in the theater. Forced you! You never wanted to do anything except loaf in barrooms! You’d have been content to sit back like a lazy lunk and sponge on me for the rest of your life! After all the money I’d wasted on your education, and all you did was get fired in disgrace from every college you went to! JAMIE Oh, for God’s sake, don’t drag up that ancient history! TYRONE It’s not ancient history that you have to come home every summer to live on me.

141

142

Chapter Twelve JAMIE I earn my board and lodging working on the grounds. It saves you hiring a man. TYRONE Bah! You have to be driven to do even that much! […] TYRONE (stares at him puzzledly, then quotes mechanically) “Ingratitude, the vilest weed that grows”! JAMIE I could see that line coming! God, how many thousand times– ! (He stops, bored with their quarrel, and shrugs his shoulders) […] JAMIE (boredly) Let’s forget me. I’m not interested in the subject. Neither are you. (TYRONE gives up. JAMIE goes on casually.) What started us on this? Oh, Doc Hardy. When is he going to call you up about Edmund?

This conflict episode seems to have all the characteristics of destructive conflict. As such, it underscores an increase in personal distance between the participants. The choice of strategies of impoliteness emphasizes deliberate face aggravation. In terms of rapport orientation, such mutual desire to impair the harmony of a relationship is called rapport-challenge orientation: the participants’ goal is to worsen the rapport between them; for example, by deliberately causing the other to lose face (Spencer-Oatey 2008, 32). The triggering event is Jamie’s accusation: he expresses an impolite belief that his father failed to take proper care of Edmund’s health when he had a chance to (negative impoliteness). This forces Tyrone to defend himself: he replies with a challenging question and an explanation. From this moment, their exchange seems to start turning into an escalatory spiral: it accelerates as both men resort to issue-expansion (everything’s the matter; run down everybody; everyone is a fake to you; you always buy more; you’ve never known the value of a dollar and never will; you never wanted to do anything) that moves them away from the central issue, and multiply allegations. The conflict becomes more and more personal and heated. Both men avoid constructive answers, choosing to continue the argument and concentrating on achieving their personal goals. Tyrone’s goal appears to be the want to belittle Jamie and show his relative power as a father and indirectly Jamie’s sole source of income (that’s enough!; it’s more than you’re worth and you couldn’t get that if it wasn’t for me; if you weren’t my son, there isn’t a manager in the business who would give you a part; you have to come home every summer to live on me). Jamie, in turn, pursues his own goals, confronted with Tyrone’s strategies: he claims that Tyrone is stingy and values his land more than his son’s health, and that he nurtures misconceptions about Jamie’s life (Hardy only charges a dollar. That’s what makes you think he’s a fine doctor; if Edmund was a lousy acre of land you wanted, the sky would be

Psychological Distance in Father-Son Conflicts

143

the limit; I never wanted to be an actor. You forced me on the stage). Numerous strategies of negative impoliteness are used, particularly by Tyrone, and include: emphasizing one’s power (if it wasn’t for me…), being contemptuous (you’ve thrown your salary away every week on whores and whiskey), belittling (at the end of each season you’re penniless), putting the other’s indebtedness on record (after all the money I’d wasted on your education…), invading the other’s space. Positive impoliteness strategies employed in this conflict include: seeking disagreement by selecting a sensitive topic, using derogatory nominations and foul language (a lazy lunk; for God’s sake). The destructive nature of this conflict is also visible in the participants’ inflexibility: Jamie pretends self-initiated submission (Oh, all right. I’m a fool to argue) only to immediately retaliate by indirectly accusing Tyrone of an inability to accommodate (you can’t change the leopard’s spots). As far as rapport management strategies are concerned, Jamie exhibits no intention of upholding Tyrone’s social roles: neither that of a caring father, nor that of a successful actor. Jamie sneers at Tyrone’s attachment to his acting profession (I could see that line coming!) as Tyrone quotes a line whose function is to hint at Jamie’s attitude in a superior manner (“Ingratitude, the vilest weed that grows”). Jamie’s indignation suggests that Tyrone’s repertoire is somewhat limited (how many thousand times–), thus damaging his social identity face. The Tyrones speak like poets; using numerous quotes they hide behind. As Bigsby (2000, 18) notes, “to speak as another is for the moment to evade the self which can be vulnerable to pain.” Conversations between them become “competing monologues” (2000, 25) and the psychological space between them broadens. As for the outcome and termination of this conflictive exchange, it can be observed that there is no resolution of the explicit issue (whether or not Tyrone is to blame for Edmund’s deteriorating health) and the conflict ends in a standoff. Jamie and his father drop the conflict form without establishing the winner-loser division or compromise; and given the earlier hostility and face damage, this termination serves as a relatively cost-free, face-saving way out of a senseless fight. Thus personal distance between the two men is maintained: from the triggering event (the initial accusation) the conflict is destructive and it ends in a stand-off signaling estrangement, disassociation and no intention of resolving the argument. The above approach may be adapted for the analysis of father-son conflict presented in selected plays in order to determine the prevailing pattern of conflict talk (expressed through particular strategies defining its nature) and the frequency of (possibly) corresponding termination formats. Useful classifications would include, among other things: issues, goals,

144

Chapter Twelve

nature and outcomes of conflict talk. The distance between fathers and sons engaged in conflict seems to grow through the choice of strategies of impoliteness, lexical choices or forms of address which do not fit the context of home and family. As Brick Pollit (from Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof) says to his father: “Communication is—awful hard between people an’—somehow between you and me, it just don’t— happen” (Williams 2004, 92).

References Bigsby, C.W.E. 2000. Modern American Drama 1945-2000. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Brown, Penelope and Stephen C. Levinson. 1987. Politeness: Some universals in language usage. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Culpeper, Jonathan. 1996. Towards an anatomy of impoliteness. Journal of Pragmatics 25, 349-367. —. 2001. Language and characterisation: People in plays and other texts. Harlow: Longman. —. 2005. Impoliteness and entertainment in the television quiz show The Weakest Link. Journal of Politeness Research 1, 35-72. Culpeper, Jonathan, Derek Bousfield and Anne Wichmann. 2003. Impoliteness revisited: with special reference to dynamic and prosodic aspects. Journal of Pragmatics 35, 1545-1579. Cupach, William R. 1980. Interpersonal conflict: relational strategies and intimacy. Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Speech Communication Association (66th, New York, NY, November 13-16, 1980) Grice, H. Paul, 1975. Logic and conversation. In Syntax and semantics 3: Speech Acts, ed. Peter Cole and Jerry Morgan, 41-58. New York: Academic Press. Grimshaw, Allen D., (ed.). 1990. Conflict talk: Sociolinguistic investigations of arguments and conversations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —. 1990a. Research on conflict talk: antecedents, resources, findings, directions. In Conflict talk: Sociolinguistic investigations of arguments and conversations, ed. Allen D. Grimshaw, 280-308. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hocker, Joyce L. and William W. Wilmot. 1995. Interpersonal conflict. Dubuque: WCB Brown and Benchmark.

Psychological Distance in Father-Son Conflicts

145

O’Neill, Eugene. 2002 [1956]. Long day’s journey into night. New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Spencer-Oatey, Helen. 2002. Managing rapport in talk. Using rapport sensitive incidents to explore the motivational concerns underlying the management of relations. Journal of Pragmatics 34, 529-545. —, (ed.). 2008. Culturally speaking: Culture, communication and politeness theory. London/New York: Continuum. Vuchinich, Samuel. 1990. The sequential organization of closing in verbal family conflict. In Conflict talk: Sociolinguistic investigations of arguments and conversations, ed. Allen D. Grimshaw, 118-138. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Williams, Tennessee, 2004 [1955]. Cat on a hot tin roof. New York: New Directions Books.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN DISTANCE AND PROXIMITY IN DIMINUTIVE SEMANTICS AND PRAGMATICS DOROTA GORZYCKA

1. Introduction Diminutives are often considered to be puzzling for linguists because of their morphological makeup as well as their meanings; thus, there are numerous definitions of the diminutive. Here diminutives are understood, after Klaus Schneider, as any expressions carrying the sense of smallness with all its literal and metaphorical meanings and the positive or negative attitudes connected to it (Schneider 2003, 15). This description is very useful since it focuses on the meaning, leaving out all the potential controversies related to the morphological devices applied for diminutive formation. The aim of this article is to provide theoretical background to the problem of distance and proximity concerning diminutive semantics and pragmatics. This is by no means the first attempt to tackle the subject. This article draws from Carlos Inchaurralde’s work (1997), but his approach has been significantly modified and refined here. The first part of the article, based on Barbara Strang’s (1972), John Taylor’s (2003), and Daniel Jurafsky’s (1996) works, outlines the meanings that diminutives can carry. Although these authors analysed various languages, the examples provided here are limited to English, in some cases Polish examples are used as well. The second part of the article is devoted to distance and proximity initially in diminutive semantics and later in diminutive pragmatics.

Distance and Proximity in Diminutive Semantics and Pragmatics

147

2. Diminutive meaning The diminutive is a polysemous category. In general, it can be assumed that diminutives can have three main types of meaning. The prototypical meaning of the diminutive is that of smallness of a designatum: kitchen>kitchenette, balcony>balconette. The second type of meaning embraces both a reference to size and a person’s response to an object being talked about; response which can come from a continuum ranging from a positive to a negative attitude. The last type of meaning conveys a personal attitude alone. Such a division, even though schematic and simplistic, appears in numerous sources devoted to diminutives. It is worth adding that this classification was used by Barbara Strang in Modern English structure as the basis for her interpretation of diminutive meanings development. Strang claims that: Diminutives are usually forms that have begun by meaning ‘a small of its kind’ but have undergone a development whereby they come to express not merely an assessment of size, but also, or even exclusively, the speaker’s response to small things, a response ranging from affection through condescension to contempt, we might say that a diminutive is mature when it carries only this ‘response’-meaning. (Strang 1971, 138)

Strang’s approach focuses on the affective meaning of the diminutive. She believes that the semantic meaning of smallness is just the starting point from which all the other meanings of the diminutive originated. It can be implied from her words that only diminutives carrying pragmatic senses alone are fully developed and constitute the last stage of diminutive meaning evolution. It goes without saying that the division of diminutive meanings into three types is insufficient. As far as the most basic semantic meaning of smallness is concerned, it needs to be clarified that in numerous languages diminutives are formed not only from words referring to physical entities, but also from nouns designating more abstract entities as well as from other parts of speech than nouns. John Taylor (2003), using Italian as the language of reference, explains that this change of meanings occurred due to metaphorisation from a spatial domain to more abstract nonspatial domains. He notices that diminutives can express the short temporal duration, the reduced strength, or the reduced scale of an entity. When applied to adjectives and adverbs, the diminutive expresses the reduced extent or intensity: fat>fattish, green>greenish, dark>darkish. When verbs are diminutivised, they usually convey a process that is intermitted or of poor quality.

148

Chapter Thirteen

As far as the pragmatic meanings are concerned, Taylor notices that diminutives may convey an attitude of affection or tenderness felt towards people as well as inanimate entities: Eliza> Lizzy, house> little house. Diminutives are also used for expressing depreciation. The extension of diminutive meaning from smallness to affection and depreciation is according to Taylor an example of metonymic transfer originating in people’s tendency to feel affection for some small creatures, but also to have low opinion of small entities and to consider them worthless. Moreover, Taylor writes that there are less significant diminutive meanings with their own experiential bases. The first is the dismissive case of diminutive use when the designatum is believed to be insignificant, e.g., prince>princeling. The second is the approximative use restricted to expressions of quantity, e.g., godzina>godzinka (Polish for hour> hour+DIM). The diminutive may convey the meaning of intensification as well. It developed through metonymic extension of the central sense of the base word: drobny>drobniutki (Polish for fine>very fine). Therefore, Taylor perceives the diminutive as a polysemous category whose meanings are obtained from the core meaning of smallness through metaphor or metonymy. He postulates that these links by no means signify that there is a common meaning core in the category. In consequence, it is not possible to predict whether a particular diminutive meaning will be sanctioned in a given language or not. What is more, Taylor notices that diminutives have the tendency to acquire the status of independent lexical items with specialized meanings, e.g., leather>leatherette. Exemplary cases of specialization that can be found in a variety of languages are names of the young of an animal and diminutives that refer to feminine gender: pig>piglet, usher>usherette. However, Taylor mentions that in most situations specialization follows quite unpredictable paths when the meaning of the diminutivised form is not obtained from the meaning of the constituent parts. The last approach to diminutive meanings to be discussed here was provided by Daniel Jurafsky (1996). His work is definitely the most elaborate but also more controversial that those previously discussed. Although it appeared earlier than Taylor’s work, it is presented as the last one since it possesses the most explanatory power and was created with the intention to account for the development of all the possible diminutive meanings cross-linguistically. Jurafsky is not satisfied with treating some of diminutivised forms as specialized and separate from the category. He proposes to include them in the category of the diminutive and tries to explain how they evolved from the core meaning.

Distance and Proximity in Diminutive Semantics and Pragmatics

149

Jurafsky investigated more than sixty languages with the aim to find the meanings and origins of the diminutive. He notices that in literature there were two research paradigms depicting diminutives: reports on the polysemy of diminutives in different languages and studies of the direction of the change of meanings. Jurafsky suggests that the two research paradigms can be combined by creating a radial category for the diminutive, “a type of structured polysemy that explicitly models the different senses of the diminutive and the metaphorical and inferential relations which bind them” (Jurafsky 1996, 533). Furthermore, he expresses a claim that the synchronic and diachronic states of a language are profoundly bound to each other. Therefore, he presents the synchronic and diachronic semantics and pragmatics of diminutives in one model. From the synchronic point of view, it explains the multiple and clashing senses of diminutives. From the diachronic point of view, the radial category performs a function of “archeology of meaning”, representing the generalizations of the mechanisms of semantic change. His reconstruction of diminutive meanings ranges from the concept “child” and opposes the intuitional reconstructions, including Barbara Strang’s, tracing it back to “smallness”. According to Jurafsky, his claim that diminutives crosslinguistically originate from words semantically and pragmatically linked to children can be proven with a new reconstruction of the PIE suffix -ko-. Moving to diminutive meanings, the semantic senses Jurafsky enumerates are: approximation (green>greenish), partitive (ziarno> ziarnko, Polish for grain>one grain), exactness (mały>malutki, Polish for small>very small), member, small type-of (cigar>cigarette, ciasto> ciasteczko, Polish for cake>cookie) which is further extended by the meanings of imitation (ring>ringlet) and related-to (child>childish, wrist>wristlet, ankle>anklet). The pragmatic senses include: affection, pets, sympathy, intimacy, contempt, and metalinguistic hedges. Each of the semantic senses can co-occur with pragmatic connotations. This observation is very important because it appears that in reality the semantic and pragmatic meanings of the diminutive often cannot be neatly separated. Finally, there are three senses of the diminutive that inherently lie on the boundary between semantic and pragmatic meanings: child (pig>piglet), small (cloud>cloudlet, kitchen> kitchenette, house>little house), and female gender (usher>usherette, poet>poetess, lion>lioness, prince>princess). It needs to be underlined that not all of the semantic and pragmatic meanings mentioned by Jurafsky are present in all languages since the model shows a compilation of the senses that are possible for diminutives to acquire.

150

Chapter Thirteen

The mechanisms of semantic change discussed in literature are metaphor, inference or context-induced reinterpretation, and generalization or bleaching. Nevertheless, there are senses, e.g., approximation or exactness, which cannot be accounted for by any of the previous mechanisms. Therefore, Jurafsky adds to this set a new mechanism, called lambda-abstraction. Lambda-abstraction takes one predicate in a form and replaces it with a variable. The new expression becomes a second-order predicate because its domain includes a variable that ranges over predicates. In the case of diminutives, the original concept “small(x)”, meaning “smaller than the prototypical representative of a category on the scale of size”, after undergoing a process of lambda-abstracting, becomes “lambda(y)(smaller than the prototypical exemplar x on the scale y)” (Jurafsky 1996, 555). Exemplary diminutives that are obtained through lambda-abstraction are presented in Table 1. Jurafsky notices that the semantic meanings are obtained through all the mechanisms mentioned above. To model the pragmatic meanings, Jurafsky uses inferences and metaphors only. Table 1. Second-order diminutive senses (adapted from Jurafsky 1996, 559). Argument

Example

Mass noun

ziarno (grain) red

scale of amount

Partitive

scale of redness

Approximation

kaĪdy (every)

scale of deictic extent

exactness

while

scale of illocutionary force

Hedging

Gradable predicates Deictics Propositions

Implicit scale

Sense

Diminutive ziarnko (one seed) reddish kaĪdziutki (every single one) little while

3. Distance and proximity in semantics and pragmatics of the diminutive After the description of diminutive meanings, it is now time to move to the problem of distance and proximity. Jurafsky’s model is particularly useful here because it explicitly separates the meanings that diminutives can obtain into semantic and pragmatic. His thorough analysis makes it possible to notice those tendencies in diminutive meanings which are not so easily detected in more conservative and schematic models. To provide

Distance and Proximity in Diminutive Semantics and Pragmatics

151

an account for the issue of distance and proximity, diminutive meanings need to be analysed separately. First, the semantic meanings will be dealt with. Then the scope of attention will be shifted towards pragmatics. As far as diminutive semantics is concerned, it is visible that the objects referred to with diminutives are somehow linked to the objects referred to with the unmarked word forms. This relationship can be perceived as iconic. “Iconicity is defined as a similarity between form and meaning as conceived by a human mind” (Tabakowska 2001, 5). Therefore, iconicity is inherently subjective. It concerns the interpretant’s perception, a constructive process consisting in response to reality rather than the objective reality as such. The type iconicity dealt with in the case of diminutive semantics is diagrammatic iconicity. It consists in a correspondence between the structures of signs. The linguistic form shows that in reality some objects possess similar characteristics. What is meant here is conceptual subjective closeness between the object referred to with the unmarked form and the object referred to with the diminutive. In other words, the conceptual proximity is reflected in language, where words of similar shape are used to refer to objects possessing similar characteristics. In the case of pragmatic diminutive meanings, the issue of distance and proximity is far more complex. This topic has already been discussed in literature by Carlos Inchaurralde (1997) who analyzes different attitudinal meanings of the diminutive in Spanish. Inchaurralde claims that space regions and spatial dimensions function as activators for emotions. Typically, any person identifies certain regions of space as their own. This happens with the basic spaces we use, e.g., our houses, offices, favourite place at the table, our armchair, etc. Inchaurralde believes that spatial relations can be pre-conceptual and exploited for the understanding of more abstract notions. He states that there are good and bad areas. Good areas are connected with the main participant; other areas have different degrees of goodness or may even be bad. What is inside somebody’s own physical and/or psychological area is accepted by the participant and is considered good. To prove his point, Inchaurralde studies a non-denotational use of Spanish diminutives with relation to emotional proximity between the speaker and the object. His ideas, however, may apply to diminutives in other languages as well. Inchaurralde notices such effects as a “diminutive effect” and an “augmentative effect”. An attitude of the speaker expressed by a diminutive can be explained in terms of emotional spaces: “we feel close to the entity affected by it and for that reason we make it enter our personal space by reducing its dimensions” (Inchaurralde 1997, 139). This phenomenon is called a “diminutive effect”. We do not feel threatened by

152

Chapter Thirteen

the object; therefore, we make room in our private territory so that it can be included in it. Apart from the “diminutive effect”, the author notices a phenomenon that he calls an “augmentative effect”. Augmentatives express an increase in the size of an object they refer to and in many cases have negative connotations. The author links the meaning of size with that of an attitude and explains that an increase in size threatens our personal space and triggers off hostile emotions. However, he spots counterexamples to the rules given. He notices that there are augmentatives which have positive connotations, e.g., a huge success, psisko (Polish for dog+AUG). The explanation he provides is that in such cases an increase of the object’s space occurs, which makes it possible for other participants to enter. Moreover, Inchaurralde uses his approach to explain the pragmatic implications of the diminutive used for politeness. He shows that the diminutive is normally applied to mitigate or lessen the strength of some statements. More precisely, diminutives are used by speakers for positive politeness, which was defined by Brown and Levinson (1992). This means that diminutives lessen the threat that some statements pose to the hearer’s positive image, i.e., to have one’s needs understood and shared by everybody else. The speaker makes it clear that the hearer’s needs deserve sympathy and that he/she is considered to be his/her peer. It can be added that positive politeness is very often applied in commissives, e.g., Would you like a little drink? Here, the diminutive is not used to express that the speaker wants to provide the hearer with a small quantity of alcohol. On the contrary, as Schneider (2003) noticed, the offered good is down played in its value. It means that the drink is so insignificant that the hearer can accept it without appearing greedy. So, it can be assumed that in commissives diminutives perform a benefit minimizing function. Inchaurralde’s idea that spatial relations can be pre-conceptual and consequently exploited for the understanding of more abstract notions is valuable. However, his explanation of the non-denotative meanings of diminutives needs to be refined. First of all, Inchaurralde does not mention any cases when diminutives have negative pragmatic meanings. The second thing is that he does not notice that diminutives can be used not only for positive, but for negative politeness as well. According to Brown and Levinson (1992), negative politeness consists in reducing the face threat through paying attention to the addressee’s negative face, which can be done by indicating that the speaker wants to avoid impeding the addressee’s freedom. This happens very often in directives, e.g., Sit and wait a little while. However, the basic problem with Inchaurralde’s theory, which was also noticed by Francisco Santibáñez Sáenz (1999), is the belief

Distance and Proximity in Diminutive Semantics and Pragmatics

153

that everything placed in one’s personal space is considered pleasant and that we do not let disliked entities in. It is obviously not true that we think that all objects located within our personal space are good. We constantly need to come to terms with unpleasant things that intrude our personal space. It requires underlining that we shape our conceptual world in likeness to reality. Edward T. Hall (1966) investigated the problems connected to personal space and even measured it. Therefore, it can be assumed that what we perceive as our personal space is a real world phenomenon. This real world phenomenon is then used to shape our understanding of concepts and linguistic means to express them. In reality we want some objects to enter our personal spaces, but feel oppressed when our personal space is cramped, e.g., when too many objects, too big objects, or objects we consider unpleasant enter our personal space. The fact is that whether we like it or not, things that influence our emotions affect us and our psychological integrity in a similar way that objects entering our personal space affect our senses. In most cases it is not our choice to include those objects in our territory or exclude them from it. We just notice them and respond to them. A similar thing happens when we are emotionally affected and want to describe our feelings with devices that express attitudinal meanings, among others the diminutive. The situation is quite simple when the object is considered to be wanted in our territory and we feel positive emotions towards it—we use diminutives to express our psychological closeness and a positive attitude. However, when the object is not pleasant, we want it to be more bearable and easy to cope with. Hence, on the linguistic level we refer to it with a diminutive to make it look smaller, less important, or even pathetic. Finally, when diminutives are used for politeness, they make the objects involved appear less important/more bearable; thus, the objects are easily incorporated in the personal space of the hearer in the case of both requests and offers. It is important that the above findings are consistent with Jurafsky’s discoveries about where the emotional meanings of the diminutive come from. When analyzing Jurafsky’s model, it appears that the positive pragmatic meanings of the diminutive arise from the concept “child”, which according to Jurafsky, is the basic term from which the category of diminutives originated. He assumes that people have a natural tendency to feel affection towards children. Hearing the diminutive being used to refer to children, through conventionalization of usage, people started to voice positive emotions with diminutives. Jurafsky also explains the use of diminutives for contempt through the metaphor category centrality is size and marginal is small. Consequently, the idea that we psychologically

154

Chapter Thirteen

reduce the importance of those entities that are unpleasant is consistent with Jurafsky’s model as well. Finally, attention needs to be directed to augmentatives. Objects referred to with augmentatives are incorporated into our personal space; however, the mechanism is slightly different. Big size is naturally associated with negative attitudes probably because people feel oppressed by big objects which are considered to be dangerous. Accordingly, when an object placed into one’s personal space is considered to be a negative phenomenon, people naturally use augmentatives. The reverse situation occurs when people use augmentatives to express a positive meaning. Then an augmentative is applied to make the objects referred to look more important or even majestic.

4. Conclusions In conclusion, both semantic and pragmatic meanings of the diminutive are related to distance and proximity. When investigating the semantic meanings, it becomes clear that objects referred to with diminutives are conceptually close to the things referred to with the base words. As far as pragmatic meanings are concerned, the objects that people name using diminutives affect their emotions; therefore, they are incorporated in their personal space. When the objects responded to with diminutives are likeable, they are incorporated into people’s personal space without reservations. However, when the objects that are into personal space are not wanted, people use diminutives to make them look less significant or even silly. In polite expressions, diminutives make the objects involved appear less important and more bearable.

References Brown, Penelope and Stephen C. Levinson. 1992. Politeness. Some universals in language use. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hall, Edward T. 1966. The hidden dimension. Garden City/New York: Doubleday. Inchaurralde, Carlos. 1997. Space, reference, and emotional involvement. In Language of emotions. Conceptualization, expression, and theoretical foundation, ed. S. Niemeier and R. Dirven, 135-154. Amsterdam/ Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Jurafsky, D. 1996. Universal tendencies in the semantics of the diminutive. Language 72(3): 533-578.

Distance and Proximity in Diminutive Semantics and Pragmatics

155

Santibáñez Sáenz, F. S. 1999. Conceptual interaction and Spanish diminutives. Cuadernos de investigación filológica XXV: 173-190. Schneider, Klaus P. 2003. Diminutives in English. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlang. Strang, Barbara M.H. 1971. Modern English structure. Second edition. London: Edward Arnold. Tabakowska, ElĪbieta. 2001. Iconicity. In Handbook of pragmatics 2001, ed. J. Verschueren, J.O. Östman, J. Blommaert and C. Bulcaen, 1-17. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Taylor, John R. 2003. Linguistic categorization. Third edition. Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN AXES OF SOCIAL DISTANCE IN EVERYDAY COMMUNICATION: A DIACHRONIC STUDY ANNA JASKÓLSKA

1. Introduction The subject matter of this article owes its inspiration to two works; namely The Pronouns of Power and Solidarity by Brown and Gilman published in 1960, and Social Structures, Groups and Interaction by Brown and Levinson printed as a chapter of the edited volume Social Markers in Speech in 1979. The former work explains the origins and the evolution of two pronouns of address—second person singular and second person plural. The latter publication analyses how social status and social relations are communicated in verbal interaction. The main objective of this work is to follow the general evolutionary changes within the forms of second person pronouns and their equivalent nominal forms of address, and investigate the social messages sent by means of particular forms of address. The sociolinguistic perspective adopted here does not allow for restriction of the notion of space to proxemics; nevertheless, the analysis also includes such spatial constructs as axes and distance. These constructs will be treated as components of social reality in this work; therefore, we will speak of social axes and social distance.

2. Social inequality According to Levinson, social deixis holds within “[t]hose aspects of language structure that encode the social identities of participants (properly, incumbents of participant-roles), or the social relationship between them, or between one of them and persons and entities referred to” (1983, 54).This definition is based upon the concepts of social identity

Axes of Social Distance in Everyday Communication

157

and social relationship; therefore, tacitly and implicitly it indicates that society is structured. The structure proper, to the common knowledge complex and multidimensional, is rooted in inequality between society members. The notion of equality and inequality between people changed throughout the ages. The feudal system that used to regulate the structure of European societies from Middle Ages justified the entitlements to high positions within social hierarchy through divine predestination. Such a belief held within societies for ages; however, it faded and finally evolved into eighteenth century early social theories. The earliest analytical voices on social inequality are ascribed to such names as Rousseau, Millar and Ferguson. All the three philosophers were convinced that equality had been the “natural state” among people until the idea of private property was instilled into people’s minds. This explanation of social inequality has been since then cultivated and developed by different theorists. One of the most influential philosopher of the nineteenth and early twentieth century, Karl Marx, explored the idea of social inequality as rooted in private property and divided social classes according to the ownership factor into owners and non-owners. Moreover, Marx categorised the factor as an oppression apparatus. Taking into consideration more contemporary voices on social inequality we still come across concepts of private property and ownership, but at the same time the theorists look far beyond the material sphere of human existence. According to Judah Matras, Social inequality means that there are different entitlements, or institutionalized claims on rewards and resources and that there are different degrees of access to, or receipt of, social rewards and sources that are associated with different social positions. (1984, 1)

Among the most common entitlements, Matras enumerates work, kinship and physical force that not only provide access to resources and rewards, but also give right to demand them. The differentiation between rewards and resources applied here needs further explanation. What should be understood as resources is the set of material goods sought by human primarily to survive, and secondarily for prosperity and comfort. Among rewards we should list power, referred to in details later in this work, as well as respect, pleasure and entertainment. In his own definition, William Foley encapsulates both—rewards and resources—under one term; namely, scarce goods. According to Foley social inequality is based on complex system for classifying people [which] is mainly a way of controlling access to 'scarce goods', those things, not necessarily material,

158

Chapter Fourteen which are highly desired by the society, so that people seek these out and compete with each other to gain them. (1997, 307)

3. Social relations Functioning within society, people occupy different social positions and adopt particular social roles defined by relations to other society members. These can be symmetrical, and best described by such relations as the same/equal professional position(income) as , the same age as , the same education as. On the other hand, they can be asymmetrical, and they are usually described by expressions such as older than, richer than, employer of, parent of. Symmetry as a key factor defining social relations was explored by Polish linguist, Eugeniusz Tomiczek. Nonetheless, Brown and Gilman, mentioned before, put forward more complex and, to some extent, more convincing division of factors determining establishing and maintaining social relations. In their article entitled The Pronouns of Power and Solidarity they speak of solidarity relations based on shared similarities. The similarities that matter seem to be those that make for like-mindedness or similar behaviour dispositions. These will ordinarily such things as political membership, family, religion, profession, sex and birthplace. The dimension of solidarity is potentially applicable to all persons addressed. (1960, 257-258)

Another term explored here has many earlier circumscriptions and numerous applications in various contexts. The main associations to power are control, ability, influence, authority, etc. Bernard Barber defines power as “the effect that the behaviour of one party (individual or group) has upon the thinking or action of some other party (individual or group)” (1957, 234). Nevertheless, taking into consideration the previously discussed definitions of social inequality, we can specify the behaviour and actions of the powerful and the powerless in any uneven relation. Power should be defined as a privilege (priority) in the competition for ''scarce goods'' that gives superiority to an individual or group, which is accepted by the society, as it is imposed (dictated) by the social structure. The greatest contribution of Brown and Gilman to the field of social deixis is the diachronic approach applied in their article, giving a new insight into inseparable social and linguistic changes that took place throughout ages. The article helps to explain and explore more contemporary socio-linguistic phenomena, such as overlapping forms of second person singular and plural pronouns. Basing upon Brown and

Axes of Social Distance in Everyday Communication

159

Gilman's division of factors determining the social relations between people we may delineate two axes—the power axis and the solidarity axis—that will help to describe the character of the relation that holds between the interlocutors in the forthcoming analysis of conversational exchanges. Bearing in mind the fact that all the social relations change together with the transformations within social structure and that every single relation that holds between two people evolves with the course of time, we need to regard time as equally important factor shaping social relations. Juxtaposing the three factors we obtain a three-dimensional construct of social relations. The described construct is an abstract and rather a vaguely outlined figure, and as it requires deeper analysis, it will not be the explored in this work.

4. Data presentation The previous parts of this work provided only rudimentary information on social deixis and a very limited number of approaches to the leading topic. The intention of this part is to present particular uses of selected terms of address; namely, second person pronouns and their chosen equivalent nominal forms. In order to present changes within the realm of forms and uses of the selected terms of address, the dialogical exchanges will be presented chronologically. The corpus from which the exemplary conversations were taken had been constructed of a number of English drama works. It is worth noticing; however, that drama as a literary genre does not constitute the most credible source of knowledge about the natural, everyday use of language. What is more, the access to the authentic texts, especially the exemplary early medieval works, was limited or, in many cases impossible. Nonetheless, there is no other written record of conversations from the remote past, but drama. The emergence of drama on the English ground is tightly connected with Roman invasion and popularity of Christianity. Various techniques of dramatisation and refinement of the liturgy during holy masses transformed very quickly into performances and, as a consequence, evolved into complex drama works. First written fragments of The Early English plays date back to 11th century. Nevertheless, these fragments, as well as those coming from the period between 12th and 14th century were excluded from the analysis, as they contain numerous monologues and soliloquies, and only scarce dialogical exchanges. Moreover, the Early English drama works hardly ever preserved in original versions, as they were rewritten and processed to fit modern conventions as far as

160

Chapter Fourteen

punctuation, spelling and capital letters are concerned in order to be more comprehensible for the readers. The first chosen fragments come from the drama known as De Creatione Mundi et Adami et Evae, de Eorumque Tentatione, the play presumably dates back to 1467. It illustrates the biblical Genesis, as the title suggests. The work is divided into two parts. The introductory part constitutes a description of the Creation of the world; however, for it is a kind of soliloquy spoken by the persona of Deus we cannot observe any speech situation there, which excludes the fragment from further analysis. Second part, on the other hand, contains dialogues between the characters of the play; therefore, it provides many fragments that are interesting to examine. First dialogue in the play begins immediately after the description of the creation of the first biblical man, Adam. DEUS: Rise up, Adam, and awake! Here have I formed thee a make. Here the thou shalt take, And name her as thy list. ADAM: I see well, Lord, through thy grace, Bone of my bone thou her mase, And fleshe of my flesh she hase, And my shape through thy saw.

Strange as it may seem to speak of connection between Adam and God in terms of social relation; however, facing the lack of other than biblical characters in the drama works from the period, the analysis needs to be conducted. The creator, Deus, is in power over the creature, Adam. In this short interchange Deus addresses Adam using his name and informs him about the fact of creation of Eve. Adam responds using an address form Lord, that according to Tomiczek's classification of address terms (1983, 39-45) would be the functional-professional form of address. We may also observe other address forms used by both the interlocutors; namely the personal pronouns (thou, thee, thy) applied reciprocally by Deus and Adam. Another chosen fragment depicts Deus speaking to two characters: Adam and Eve, punishing them for disobedience and expelling them from Paradise. DEUS: Now shall ye parte from this lee. Hilled you behoves to be: Dead beasts skinnes, as thinketh me, Is best yow on yow beare. For deadlie bothe now bene yee,

Axes of Social Distance in Everyday Communication

161

And death no way may you flee; Such clothes are best for your degree, And such now ye shall weare.

This fragment shows that pronouns such as ye, yee, you, yow and your in function of possessive were intentionally used to address two recipients. Next fragment of drama chosen for analysis comes from the sixteentth century, The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, is commonly known under shorter title Dr. Faustus. Similarly to other author's works the title character is driven by a strong desire for power and authority. Nevertheless, the selected dialog does not include Faustus, but Wagner, Faustus's student who interrogates a Clown met in the street. WAGNER: Sirra boy, come hither. CLOWN: How, boy?Zounds, boy? I hope you have seen many boys with such pickadevants as I have. Boy, quotha! WAGNER: Tell me sirra, hast thou any comings in? CLOWN: Ay, and goings out too; you may see else. WAGNER: Well, willt thou serve me, and I'll make thee go go like qui mihi discipulus? CLOWN: How, in verse? WAGNER: No sirra, in beaten silk and stavesacre. CLOWN: How,how Knavesacre? Ay I thought that was all the landhis father left him! Do ye hear, I would be sorry to rob you of your living. WAGNER: Sirra, I say in stavesacre.

The character of the social relation between Wagner and Clown is outlined by the power axis. Wagner used a nominal form boy in reference to his interlocutor; however, Clown did not accept it. He did not protest against the nominal form sirra, which was used later in this conversation in many entries. The sirra-form seems to resemble the form sir at least on the level of morphology; nevertheless, it seems have slightly different literal and social meaning than the standard title sir. Addressing Clown Wagner employs also pronouns thou and its derivative primary objective form thee. Clown, on the other hand, addresses Wagner with pronoun ye and the corresponding forms you and your. The opening scene of another drama selected from the corpus; namely, Love for Love written in 1695, illustrates a young idle upper-class gentleman, Valentine, who desperately needs a substantial amount of money just to pay his debts back. His resourceful attendant and his friend, Scandal suggest certain solutions to this desperate situation, which triggers a sequence of unexpected events. The forthcoming conversation between

162

Chapter Fourteen

Jeremy, the attendant, and Valentine inspires the latter to undertake some actions. JEREMY: Sir, you're a gentleman, and probably understand this fine feeding: but if you please, I had rather be at board wages. Does your Epictetus, or your Seneca here, or any of these poor rich rogues, teach you how to pay your debts without money? Will they shut up the mouths of your creditors? Will Plato be bail for you? Or Diogenes, because he understands confinement, and lived in a tub, go to prison for you? 'Slife, sir, what do you mean, to mew yourself up here with three or four musty books, in commendation of starving and poverty? VALENTINE: Why, sirrah, I have no money, you know it; and therefore resolve to rail at all that have. And in that I but follow the examples of the wisest and wittiest men in all ages, these poets and philosophers whom you naturally hate, for just such another reason; because they abound in sense, and you are a fool.

Jeremy begins his speech with the nominal address form sir. He continues to use this form throughout the conversation. Nevertheless, he also uses the pronominal form you and your as well as the reflexive pronoun yourself. Valentine addresses Jeremy with the form sirrah, and, in terms of pronominal address forms, he seems to reciprocate the you-form. Another two short fragments of drama come from 20th century and they were selected with the intention to demonstrate a nominal collegial form of address used in particular period in the history by members of the Socialist Party. Weapons of Happiness by Howard Brenton is an exceptional play with a complex plot. First dialogue is set in Moscow in 1947. This is a conversation between main character, Josef Frank, and his co-worker, Victor Clementis. FRANK: Trade negotiations with the Soviet comrades fast became nocturnal. But I should have been told. I'd have been at the airport to meet you... CLEMENTIS: We travelled from Prague by train. They feared the fuel would freeze in the plane's tanks. The Russian Heartland, Joseph! Mile after mile. The devastation. One could hardly bear it even from a train window. FRANK: You read my report. My report to Gottwald? CLEMENTIS: I agree absolutely. Joseph, a hundred yards away. There is a car parked. Why are you being watched by their security police? FRANK: I am not empowered to brake off the trade talks with the Soviet Government. I had to ask for you to come from Prague. I hope that is understood, Comrade Minister.

Axes of Social Distance in Everyday Communication

163

In this interaction the two colleagues exchange the mutual address forms you. Few times in their conversations Clementis calls Frank by his name. In his last words directed to Clementis, Frank addresses him with the expression Comrade Minister that consists of collegial and functionalprofessional titular forms. The conversation continues in the street and after a while, it is interrupted by an approaching people. YOUNG MAN: Comrade Clementis! Comrade Frank! Comrade Stalin says...Why walk in the street, in the cold, at so late an hour? We are to take you to him. For a drink.

One of the approaching persons addressed the two colleagues with an interesting forms consisting of nominal collegial address and surname: Comrade Clementis and Comrade Frank. He also applied the pronominal you-form. It is the solidarity axis that outlines the shape of the social relation between the characters.

5. Conclusions We might draw a general conclusion that in the late Early English works there is a clear-cut rule that ascribes thou to singular recipient and ye to plural; however, it should be noted that there are special usages that defy this consistent categorisation. This is because of poetic factors such as stress, rhythm and rhyme. The analysis of the 16th century drama has shown that the use of particular forms of address, be it nominal or pronominal, is no longer interdependent with such factors as the structure of the line in verse. In the presented Marlow's play ye-form applies to plural recipient and thou-form applies to singular one; however, this rule does not apply, for example, to Shakespeare's works. There the reciprocality in pronominal and nominal address forms or the lack of it delineates personal or social distance. For example mutual thou-form indicates blood bonds or close, intimate relation in either symmetrical or asymmetrical social relations. On the other hand ye(you)-form is characteristic for the society members of high status to exchange polite, honorific forms in more formal or public situations. Most obviously the ye(you)-form and its nominal equivalents tend to characterise dialogues between interlocutors of different social position to underline social distance. First and the most evident change in address patterns of the 17th century, when compared to 16th century, takes place within the realm of pronominal forms. To be more precise, there seem to be no division into thou and you-form in second person singular and plural respectively.

164

Chapter Fourteen

Therefore, the problem of social or private distance between the interlocutors is no longer represented in primary pronouns and their corresponding reflexive and possessive forms. There seem to be relatively similar set of rules connected with forms of address in the 18th and 19th century drama in comparison to the previous époque, that is why the exchanges from the works of the period were not included in this article. The post-war reality in many European countries was marked by the spread of the socialist ideology. It overwhelmed almost all the spheres of human life in many European countries; however, only slightly affected the lifestyle in Great Britain. The only catchphrase remaining in the English system of address from the times of socialism is the nominal Comrade, which has its numerous analogies in other languages.

References Abrams, M. H., (ed.). 1993. The Norton anthology of English literature, Vol. 1. New York: Norton & Company Inc. Barber, Bernard. 1957. Social stratification: A comparative analysis of structure and process. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company. Brown, Penelope and Stephen Levinson. 1979. Social structure, groups and interaction. In Social markers in speech, ed. K. Scherer and H. Giles, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press and Paris: Maison des Sciences de l'Homme. Brown, Roger W. and Albert Gilman. 1960. The pronouns of power and solidarity. In Style in language, ed. T. Sebeok, Cambridge: MIT Press. Clark W.G. and William Aldis Wright, (eds.). 1960. The complete works of William Shakespeare. New York: Nelson Doubleday. Foley, William. 1997. Anthropological linguistics: An introduction. Oxford: Blackwell. Happé, Peter, (ed.). 1985. English mystery plays: A selection. London: Penguin Classics. Henderson A. G. 1982. The comedies of William Congreve. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Levinson, Stephen C. 1983. Pragmatics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lyons, John. 1981. Language and linguistics : An introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Matras, Judah. 1984. Social inequality, stratification and mbility. New Jersey: Prentice-Hall.

Axes of Social Distance in Everyday Communication

165

Scherer, Klaus Rainer and Howard Giles, (eds). 1979. Social markers in speech. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press and Paris: Maison des Sciences de l'Homme. Shaw, George Bernard. 2007. Pygmalion. London: Penguin Books. Tomiczek, Eugeniusz. 1983. System adresatywny współczesnego jĊzyka polskiego i niemieckiego: Socjolingwistyczne studium konfrontatywne. Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego. Wilde, Oscar. 1997. An ideal husband: A woman of no importance. London: Signet Classics.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN VARIOUS SPATIAL DIMENSIONS FOR TRANSLATING MULTILINGUAL FILMS PAWEŁ D. MADEJ

1. Introduction—on space in translation Let me say straight that I am speaking more as a translator rather than as a writer, with a history of being engaged with other languages and the cultures of other languages, and sometimes translating the work of film scriptwriters. In the text below I would like to make some suggestions about different aspects of space in translation, which I hope may be at least provocative enough to have some kind of afterlife of inquisitiveness; a kind of sketch-talk or un croquis. The remarks I am going to make about translation and space rest on significant aspects of the nature and practice of language itself as the defining, creative paradigm of human identity and relationship: language in a “condition of special use,” in this case film, and particularly, in translation. I am thinking about space in translation as language-in-relationship; a dialogue that through use defines itself and its users. “Wir sind ein Geschöpf der Sprache”: We are a creature of language, and a creation of it. And of course, one of these uses, in a sense language in a condition of special use, is translation. I would like to suggest a notion of space in translation as what I will call for the moment, a “trans-relational” liaison; one kind of getting together in the project of making the “newly-old, new” within certain (spatial) constraints. A relationship between the original and its “shadow-texts”, and all the texts similarly available to the translator: out of which emerges the “third-or-other text” (the third space). By “shadow-texts” or “shadow-subtitles” I mean the “invisible” but always unconsciously present possible subtitles available to any writer/translator; those subtitles-in-waiting always it seems putting pressure on the consciousness of the writer, and the translator who is also, at our most

Various Spatial Dimensions for Translating Multilingual Films

167

optimistic wish, a writer as well. Every writer, artist knows he or she is not always, or never in absolute control of what they are composing-writing. Yet, the aim of the paper is to speak about film subtitling and the way space is constrained by various limitations in films.

2. Space in translating multilingual films How to translate films in which more than one language appears is an interesting question to a translator who may not have the full range of possible solutions at hand and who has to obey numerous spatial limitations. Although many approaches to this problem have been advanced, not all offer clear solutions. Of interest are problems relating to the analysis of what the translators have done, in what time-and-manner space, and with what quality. This helps to decide whether their solutions are satisfactory and what could be done if they are not. It is also interesting to explore if there could be a general solution applicable to more than one case. In this paper I will deal not only with these possible solutions for translation when faced with more than one language in the severelyconfined space, but also with what might be done with the use of different dialects or idiolects or sociolects when faced with length constraints. My proposal will be the use of some features taken from subtitling for the hard of hearing, such as the use of different colors or the paratextual information within brackets (in order to save space). In his book Subtitles, Translation & Idioms, (Gottlieb 1997, 114-115) and in his more recent article “Language-political implications of subtitling” (Gottlieb 2004, 84), Henrik Gottlieb talks about the case of the American film Dances with Wolves, by Kevin Costner in 1990, subtitled in Danish. According to Gottlieb, in the film sequence where the protagonist first encounters the Native Americans, the parts in Lakota are also subtitled, so the Danish audience can read the translation of the Lakota words, while the American audience in the theatres could not. Apparently, as Gottlieb says, the deciding factor may have been that the American movie version for DVD had the Lakota speech subtitled into English for the domestic audience, or the reason might have been purely spatial-oriented. Another example comes from the Indian film Monsoon Wedding, by Mira Nair, released in 2002. The film is mostly spoken in English, since it portrays the upper classes in Delhi, and this class supposedly uses English, although they do use some words and even sentences in Hindi. In fact, the contrary is closer to the reality of India, where more than 1,600 languages are spoken, with a strong presence of English as a lingua franca, so most people speak their own language with a lot of expressions and words in

168

Chapter Fifteen

English. In this film, in the Spanish subtitled version for the DVD, normal letter types are used for the English dialogs, but italics are used for the parts originally spoken in Hindi. This seems to be a good solution to me, for the spectators to become aware that the characters are using different languages. But, should the occasionally spoken language be translated or kept in the original language and merely transcribed? An example to this can be found in the film Die Ehe der Maria Braun (1979). The film is about the economic wonder in Germany, after WW II. Maria Braun lost her husband during the war, and she is looking for him once the war is over. Meanwhile, she gets to know an American officer who was sent to Germany. Maria Braun takes advantage of the situation, and starts learning English with him, apart from becoming his fiancee. Going back to the question above, could we just transcribe the English words, instead of leaving the subtitles out? It would save space. This was done in the Spanish subtitles for a DVD released by the Spanish FNAC. The parts spoken in English were transcribed. We could use italics for all the secondary languages, or we could just leave them out, for the sake of spatial reasons.

3. Approaches to space limitations in translation Any kind of audiovisual translation is nowadays a considerably complicated task which requires a great deal of the translator’s orientation in many aspects of everyday life. It pertains not only to the voiceover type of translations, or to the dubbing translations, but also to the process of preparing film subtitles for the purpose of cinema and/or television demand. The problem of spatial limitations in translation has broadly been described by, among others, Agata Brajerska-Mazur and Łukasz Bogucki. Brajerska-Mazur distinguished three levels of difficulty in translating texts from Polish into English, and Bogucki proposed a three-layered model of space limitations in translation. The main conditions of subtitling stem from the integration of text, sound and image, the reading capabilities of target viewers, and the restrictions which these two factors place on space and time. These restrictions place special demands on a subtitler, meaning that the transfer of dialogue into written captions is not a straightforward matter of transcribing a lexical sequence. The process of film subtitles translation is subject to a number of various spatial limitations. Bogucki (2004) describes them in the following way:

Various Spatial Dimensions for Translating Multilingual Films

169

In our discussion the rule of relevance fulfils the role of a meta-limitation, which, in some way, functions independently of the remaining limitations— technical requirements and Toury’s norms. And so, the emerging product is the average of the three kinds of limitations. What apparently is the limitation of technical nature (for instance, the limit of the number of letters in one verse) forces the translator to look for a word that is at the same time both logical and short enough. Text-linguistic norms governing the choice of the correct vocabulary are tightly connected to this phenomenon. Independently of the formal limitations and the norms and conventions applied, the equivalents used are also subject to the metalimitation of relevance. (Bogucki 2004, 25-27, my translation)

Bogucki writes “that the concept of constraints on subtitling is broader than merely technical restrictions on the process, however significant the latter may be” (2004, 202-204). He mentions and defines the following types of constraints: a) quantitative constraints, b)cross-medium constraints, c)cultural constraints, d)constraints on register and style, e)fixed equivalents constraints. (Bogucki 2004, 122-123)

The canons of the model by Bogucki are divided into two areas. The first of them are technical obstacles. But, as we already have stated, they are far less important. The second canon, on the other hand, are textlinguistic norms proposed by Toury. The rule of relevance is mentioned as the third layer, but, as Bogucki claims, it appears totally independently of the two remaining groups of limitations. Brajerska-Mazur, on the other hand, illustrates three levels of difficulties encountered by translators of literary works and films. The first and the most general level concerns all translators from all languages, and comprises the following problems: 1. understanding and interpreting in some way the source text, 2. choosing the best translation strategy, 3. he lack of proper equivalence of words, 4. maintaining all layers of the source text, 5. transfer of culture. (Brajerska-Mazur 2003, 48-49)

The second level of difficulty stems from two different language systems. Translators from, for example, Polish into English, have to deal with many linguistic differences, having problems with rhymes, alliteration and versification, different ways of creating new meanings, and different word accents. The third area relates to the peculiarities and specific

170

Chapter Fifteen

individual ways of writing of any given author. These peculiarities, characteristic of a single person, have to be dealt with separately from all other writing techniques of other translated authors (Brajerska-Mazur, 2003). Brajerska-Mazur, however, does not mention any kind of interaction of her model with the issue of relevance theory described by Bogucki. Hatim and Mason mention a different division of constraints. They propose four types of constraints: the shift in mode, space and time constraints, no possibility of back-tracking, and the requirement to match the image with the text, as it is in the case of subtitles (Hatim and Mason 1997, 430-431). Gottlieb is another person to work on the issue. He speaks of formal (quantitative) and textual (qualitative) constraints on subtitling (Gottlieb 1992).

4. Space limitations in film subtitling 4.1. Technical-stylistic space It is possible to see the limitations in a partially different perspective. They can be placed on three different levels. The first level is comprised by the group of technical-stylistic limitations. They are the most obvious ones and established in advance. The translator simply has to obey them. We can divide them into, first of all, limitations imposed by the producer, second of all—limitations imposed by the distributor, and finally, the most down-to-earth ones, that is limitations concerning the target group of viewers’ expectations. The producer of the film rarely deals with the issue of preparing subtitles to the film they have produced, unless it will be shown within their presence during some projections conducted abroad. The conditions the producer imposes on the subtitles are, as a matter of fact, directed to the target group of potential viewers. The distribution of the film is very often connected with the same realia as the production. But here we have one important difference. In the case of distribution we come across the question of diversification, because the film can be supposed to reach a number of linguistic societies through the same distributor. So, also in this case it is possible to speak about focusing the attention on the target group. And here it is necessary to mention one more thing. The entity that pays for the translation often requires a lot from the final version. It requires solutions convenient for them. The relations of the producer and the distributor both focus on the socalled target group, which is supposed to be the audience of the film. It shapes what the producer or the distributor can require from the translator.

Various Spatial Dimensions for Translating Multilingual Films

171

There are many subdivisions in the group of technical-stylistic limitations. It is possible to speak about, among others, spatial and temporal restrictions. Reading speeds and screen space differ between cinema and television, but, in general, subtitles generally take up a maximum of two lines, containing no more than forty characters. The actual space taken up by each subtitle is also a function of the original utterance and, in the case of interlingual subtitling, the comparative properties of source and target languages. There are many difficulties in establishing reading speed and thus standardized subtitle presentation rates. Actual subtitle presentation rates vary from company to company but in general correspond to roughly three seconds per line. Depending on film content, this may be interpreted as about three seconds or a full text line, five to six seconds for two lines, and eight seconds for three lines, which is a very rare phenomenon. The technical-stylistic limitations make also a group of requirements which have to be obeyed by the producer, the translator and the distributor. What I mean here is the fact that on the screen one can have maximum two verses, the first one should be longer than the second one, and every line should not contain more than 35 signs. Apart from that, it is advisable to avoid repetitions, exclamations, unnecessary prepositions, onomatopoeia and other linguistic peculiarities in the translated text. Karamitroglou (1998) enumerates other important technicalities: a) not more than two lines, b) max 35 signs on the screen, c) 6 seconds for a two-line subtitle, d) 3,5 seconds for a one-line subtitle, e) a subtitle must remain on the screen for at least 1,5 seconds, f) subtitles must appear 0.25 seconds after the actual text, g) longer subtitles should be divided syntactically, h) no more than one sentence is allowed on one subtitle.(Karamitroglou 1998, 11-12)

Let us see it on the example of subtitles from Borat: a) not more than two lines on the screen: A tu Īyje Muktar Sahanov, nasz miejscowy mechanik i spec od skrobanek. b) max 35 signs on the screen, Moje imiĊ Borat. (16 signs, including spaces between the words) LubiĊ CiĊ. (10 signs)

172

Chapter Fifteen

c) 6 seconds for a two-line subtitle, Moje królestwo. Jestem królem w swoim zamku. The requirement of 6 seconds for a two-line subtitle is only the minimal requirement which sets up some kind of a standardized approach. The same applies to the point below: d) 3,5 seconds for a one-line subtitle, Miło! NieĨle. Za ile? e) a subtitle must remain on the screen for at least 1,5 seconds, maximum 2 seconds, this is indicated by the timecode in the brackets: CzeĞü, miło ciĊ poznaü. nazywam siĊ Borat. Odczep siĊ! The subtitles change after 2 seconds at the minimum. f) subtitles must appear 0.25 seconds after the actual text. ĝmiałeĞ siĊ kiedyĞ z niedorozwiniĊtych? There has to be a delay between the actual text and the translation to allow for the flow of the voice of the speaker/s. g) longer subtitles should be divided syntactically, that is, into two lines, the division of the subtitles is indicated by the vertical lines. Sometimes the division between the subtitles is the division based on sentence border. h) no more than one sentence is allowed on one subtitle. Po wywiadzie trafiłem na tradycyjny amerykaĔski festiwal uliczny. (Borat, 2005, ITI Poland)

4.2. Language space The above sections were supposed to show the peculiarities of translating film subtitles as based on the criteria set by Karamitroglou. The criteria are a standard in the world of Audiovisual Translation. The next level of limitations is the second group, the group of linguistic limitations. These limitations stem from the ‘inside nature’ of the translator. A huge influence in this case, as in the case of Bogucki’s model, has the relevance. The theory of relevance is based precisely on the interaction of the language of the translated texts with the translator’s language. The language of every translator is naturally limited. The limitations in question can be divided into target group limitations, competence limitations, and in

Various Spatial Dimensions for Translating Multilingual Films

173

the end the untranslatability limitations, which, often subconsciously, are obeyed by the translator. Target group limitations seem to shape the direction of the translator’s work. In the case of dubbing a great example would be here Bartosz WierzbiĊta, the translator of the Polish versions of Shrek. In the film mentioned we come across the process of domestication, which means enriching the film with the colours of the country it is going to be shown. There one can meet expressions typical ONLY of the Polish language area, and they do not only concern the sphere of culture, but also the popculture sphere, and also politics. The dialogues are reused in their exact sound in the subtitles version for the hard-of-hearing people. The language of the subtitles should be, however, as it is in many cases, politically correct. Competence limitations are the effect of the translator’s various experiences. They concern the fact if and how a given translator can solve the problems they come across when translating a film. I shall claim that the competence limitations can, to a great extent influence the process of correct film translation, which is necessary for the film to achieve a commercial success. Limitations concerning untranslatability stem to some extent from the translator’s linguistic competence; this does not mean, however, that everything can be translated.

4.3. Culture space The relations between the above three elements are not sharp enough. Not only the translator’s competence, but also the relevance theory determine what and in what way will be translated and if the target group will be satisfied by the end results of the translator’s work. The third, the highest, and at the same time, the most often thought-of by the film industry level of the model of film subtitles limitations is the level of cultural limitations. So, here it is possible to distinguish a group of social limitations, a group of moral limitations and finally, a group of limitations stemming from the religious beliefs. Social limitations concern the fact that if it is the habit in some societies to meet other social patterns, different from their own ones, or not, which is a really necessary factor in the process of translation. Moral limitations often concern the fact that sometimes it does not pay off to ‘play’ with the moral in a certain community. What I mean here is the case of the film Fanatic, translated into Polish as Skin. The film tells the story of a Jewish boy, who seemed to prefer Nazi behaviours. In the Western

174

Chapter Fifteen

countries the title Fanatic remained in many linguistic versions; in Poland however, to shock the audience, the other title was chosen. Religious limitations concern a very similar problem. As an example here I could give the case of the film The Passion of Christ by Mel Gibson, where the moral got mixed up with the religious. As it can be seen, there are many limitations which shape the process of film subtitles translation. Many of them, unfortunately, have the stopping function, which does not go together with the proper translation. Necessary here is also their (level 2 and 3 in particular) application to the relevance theory. Relevance could be also treated as a kind of constraint in the process.

Concluding remarks—on the model of space limitations for subtitling The process of film subtitles creation is a subject that only recently has been the subject of both linguistic and scientific research. Not too many publications either focus on the nature of the film subtitles translation limitations. Therefore, I am aware that the model requires great development and a deepened analysis, the analysis has to be conducted in particular in accordance with the relevance theory. The model does not exclude, however, the models of space limitations (or difficulties) prepared by Bogucki and Brajerska-Mazur, which could be a good starting point for the analysis for future researches.

References Berezowski, Leszek. 2004. Skąd siĊ biorą polskie tytuły amerykaĔskich filmów?. In Przekładając nieprzekładalne, vol. 2., ed. O. KubaĔska and W. KubaĔski, 88-89. GdaĔsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu GdaĔskiego. Bogucki, Łukasz. 2004. A relevance framework for constraints on cinema subtitling. ŁódĨ: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego. Brajerska-Mazur, Agata. 2003. Trzy poziomy trudnoĞci w przekładzie z jĊzyka angielskiego na jĊzyk polski. In Warsztaty Translatorskie/ Workshop on Translation III, ed. H. Duda, K. Klimkowski and R. Sokolowski, 31-51, Lublin/Ottawa: Towarzystwo Naukowe Katolickiego Uniwersytetu Lubelskiego and Slavic Research Group University of Ottawa Publishing House. Gottlieb, Henrik. 1992. Subtitling—a new university discipline. In Teaching Translation and Interpreting, ed. C. Dollerup and A. Loddegaard, 161 ff, London: Cambridge University Press.

Various Spatial Dimensions for Translating Multilingual Films

175

—. 1997. Quality revisited: The rendering of English idioms in Danish television subtitles vs. printed translations. In Text, typology and translation, ed. A. Trosborg., 309 ff. Amsterdam: Benjamins. —. 2004. Language-political implications of subtitling. In Topics in Audiovisual Translation, ed. P. Orero, 83-100, London: Cambridge University Press. Hatim, Basil and Ian Mason. 1997. The Translator as Communicator. London/New York: Routledge. Hejwowski, Krzysztof. 2005. Kognitywno-komunikacyjna teoria przekładu. Warszawa: PaĔstwowe Wydawnictwa Naukowe. —, (ed.). 1992. Kulturowe i jĊzykowe Ĩródła nieprzekładalnoĞci. Olecko: Wszechnica Mazurska. —, (ed.). 2003. Teoria i dydaktyka przekładu, Olecko: Wszechnica Mazurska. —. 2004. Relevance of titles in literary translation. In Relevance studies in Poland, vol. 1, ed. E. Mioduszewska, 179-193. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego. —. 2004. Translation: A cognitive-communicative approach, Olecko: Wszechnica Mazurska. Karamitroglou, F. 1998. A proposed set of subtitling standards in Europe. Translation Journal 2: 120-125. Madej, Paweł D. 2007. Model ograniczeĔ w procesie tworzenia napisów filmowych. Warsaw: in press (Warsaw University UW). —. 2007. Tłumaczenie filmowe i jego weryfikacja. In JakoĞü i ocena tłumaczenia, ed. A. KopczyĔski and M. Kizeweter, 114-122. Warszawa: Academica. Venuti, L., (ed.). 1992. Rethinking translation, London/New York: Routledge.

Examples Dances with Wolves (TaĔczący z Wilkami). Directed by Kevin Costner in 1990. Warner Bros Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person. Monsoon Wedding (Monsunowe wesele). Directed by Mira Nair in 2002. Warner Bros Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person. Die Ehe der Maria Braun (MałĪonek Marii Braun). Directed by Volker Shlaendorff in 1979. Der Spiegel Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person. Borat (Borat). Directed by Larry Charles. ITI Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person.

176

Chapter Fifteen

Shrek (Shrek). Directed by Joanna Wizmur. Warner Bros Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person. Fanatic (Skin). Directed by Silvio Narizzano. Warner Bros Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person. The Passion of Christ (Pasja). Directed by Mel Gibson. Warner Bros Productions. Subtitled by an anonymous person.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN EXPLORING SEQUENTIAL RELATIONSHIPS IN LEARNER DISCOURSE RENATA POVOLNÁ

The author investigates a corpus of diploma theses written by students in their final year of study at the Department of English Language and Literature at the Faculty of Education, Masaryk University, Brno, with the aim of finding out whether the use of discourse markers expressing sequential relationships by non-native speakers of English differs from the writing habits of experienced native users of English as presented, for example, in Biber et al. (1999). The aim of the study is not only to describe the ways novice writers use selected discourse markers in academic discourse but also to show differences in the preferences of diploma-thesis writers by field of study: linguistics, literature and ELT methodology. The appropriate knowledge and use of discourse markers1, including those expressing sequential relationships and thus organizing discourse space2, plays an important role in the achieving of communicative competence in the learning of any foreign language, in particular at advanced levels of learners’ knowledge such as university level3.

1 Different labels used for what is probably most frequently termed in relevant literature “discourse markers” has been discussed in Povolná 2008 and 2009. 2 The label ‘discourse space’ is used here only tentatively to refer to the organization of discourse segments in written academic prose enhanced by the use of discourse deictic expressions, such as but, still, however, anyway, actually, after all, to name at least those included in my analysis and, at the same time, mentioned in Levinson (1983: 87) when discussing discourse deixis and stating that they “indicate the relationship between an utterance and the prior discourse”. 3 This article is part of the grant project 405/08/0866 Coherence and Cohesion in English Discourse, which is supported by the Czech Science Foundation.

178

Chapter Sixteen

1. Introduction Coherence and cohesion conceived as two of seven standards of textuality (cf. De Beaugrande and Dressler 1981) are two important closely related linguistic notions, since “variation in coherence is the function of variation in the cohesive harmony of a text” (Halliday and Hasan 1989, 94). Cohesion is understood by many linguists as the overt structural link between sentences as formal items, while coherence is understood as the link between the communicative acts that sentences are used to perform (cf. Widdowson 1979; Stubbs 1983); in other words, “cohesion establishes local relations between syntactic items (reference, concord and the like), whereas coherence has to do with the global meaning involved in what we want to express through our speech activity” (Mey 2001, 154). Thus, it is assumed that cohesion establishes overt relations between syntactic units, whereas coherence has to do with relations obtaining between the meanings expressed by these syntactic units. According to the Collins COBUILD English Language Dictionary, “coherence is the quality that something has when it makes sense or is pleasing because all the parts or steps fit together well and logically”, l le something is understood to be coherent if “its parts fit together well so that it is clear and easy to understand” (Sinclair et l. 1987: 264). It necessarily follows that coherence and the quality of being coherent are particularly important when expressing sequential relations in academic discourse represented in my study by students’ diploma theses.

2. Contrastive discourse markers Discourse markers (DMs) viewed as a type of commentary pragmatic markers signalling sequential discourse relationships (Fraser 1990) and thus functioning in the context of both local and global discourse (Schiffrin 1987) necessarily contribute to discourse cohesion. On account of their signalling how the current speaker intends the basic message that follows to relate to the prior discourse, these language phenomena enhance the establishment of discourse coherence, which, in conformity with Bublitz (1988), is understood here as a matter of interpretation. Since in written discourse, unlike in spoken discourse, coherence cannot be explicitly negotiated and the discourse context is “split” (Fowler 1986), i.e. “there is no reciprocal management of the discourse” (Seidlhofer and Widdowson 1997: 209), the author (of a diploma thesis, for example) has “to anticipate the ideas, values and expectations of the reader and to use

Exploring Sequential Relationships in Learner Discourse

179

explicit signals (e.g. cohesive ties, patterns of information processing) to guide [the reader] towards an intended interpretation of the text” (Dontcheva-Navratilova 2007, 128). In conformity with Fraser (1990; 1998; 1999), DMs can be defined as lexical expressions, the meaning of which is procedural rather than conceptual and which function to “signal the relationship between the segment of discourse they introduce, S2, and the prior segment of discourse, S1” (Fraser 1998, 302); DMs do not display the relationship, but rather “impose a certain range of interpretations” (Fraser 1999, 942), depending on the possible interpretation(s) of S1 and the meaning of a particular DM. Thus, the analysis of DMs can be seen as part of “the more general analysis of discourse coherence–how speakers and hearers jointly integrate forms, meaning, and actions to make overall sense out of what is said” (Schiffrin 1987, 49). Contrastive relations between successive or more distant segments of discourse rank among the most important sequential relationships in academic written discourse (cf. Kortmann 1991; Malá 2006); that is the reason why they are mostly marked explicitly, in particular by DMs. However, the specific type of contrast these markers signal is negotiated by context, which can be both linguistic and non-linguistic. DMs, including those expressing contrastive relations, perform above all textorganizing functions and their higher frequency in academic writing than in other registers not only reflects the need to present and support arguments in a clear way, but also “the characteristic choice of this register to mark the links between ideas overtly, as these arguments are developed” (Biber et al. 1999, 880). My investigation is concerned with the relations obtaining at clausal and higher levels of discourse, since it is assumed that at these levels the marker “relates two separate messages” (Fraser 1999, 940), thus functioning as a DM, whereas below the clausal level it “functions purely as a conjunction within a single message” (Fraser 1999, 939). As regards the formal realization of selected markers, they are categorized, from a morphological point of view, as conjunctions (e.g. but), adverbs (e.g. however) and prepositional phrases (e.g. on the other hand).4 From a syntactic point of view, they have been subdivided into contrastive DMs occurring in hypotactic relations and those expressing paratactic relations (see Table 1 below). The reason for this is above all the expected marked difference between the two syntactic groups in the frequency of occurrence, since hypotactic relations are usually expressed overtly by 4 The most frequent representatives of each group in my data are mentioned in brackets.

180

Chapter Sixteen

certain markers (e.g. although, though, even though), while paratactic relations, apart from being indicated by certain markers (e.g. but, however, by contrast), can often remain overtly unexpressed; however, this does not mean that there cannot be semantic clues in the respective discourse segments. Concerning contrastive relations and contrastive DMs, it should be stressed that in the present paper concession is subsumed under contrastive relations since it can be viewed as a special case of contrast, namely that between the expected/usual causal relationship and the actual situation (cf. Dušková et al. 1988; Fraser 1999). Accordingly, contrastive DMs subsume markers expressing contrast as well as concession. Moreover, it is not always possible to distinguish exactly between contrast and concession, since the elements of these two relations are in some cases “combined in uses of linking adverbials” (Biber et al. 1999, 878). (For a list of different labels used for linking devices such as contrastive markers, see HĤlková 2005).

3. Material The analysis is based on a corpus of fifteen diploma theses written by students of English in their final year of study at the Department of English Language and Literature at the Faculty of Education, Masaryk University, Brno, amounting altogether to approximately 254,000 words. Each subcorpus comprises five diploma theses representing a different area of study chosen according to students’ interests, namely the areas of linguistics, literature and ELT methodology. The corpora vary slightly in length, though, since all parts of the texts analysed which contain tables, figures, references, quotations, and in the case of ELT methodology theses, lesson plans prepared by students, have been excluded from my investigation. (For the total length of the texts analysed by field of study, see Table 1 below.)

4. Results and comparisons Table 1 shows the proportion of contrastive DMs expressing hypotactic relations and those occurring in paratactic relations. It should be noted that only DMs that have more than ten occurrences in the whole corpus are listed in the table, the range being from 15 occurrences in the case of instead to 566 in the case of but, the latter being the most frequent contrastive DM of all those under scrutiny.

Exploring Sequential Relationships in Learner Discourse

181

Since hypotactic relations are as a rule expressed overtly by some markers, it is not surprising that the repertoire of these markers used by novice non-native writers is relatively rich, notably when compared to that of contrastive DMs expressing paratactic relations. This becomes especially evident when the total frequencies of occurrence of all selected DMs are taken into account. Although the frequency of markers used in paratactic relations is almost four times higher (1112 occurrences) than that of markers in hypotactic relations (281 occurrences), the repertoire of the markers in paratactic relations used with notable frequency is rather poor in my data. There are only nine different paratactic contrastive DMs listed in Table 1 below, although 18 different representatives have been searched for (not all listed in the table). By contrast, five of eight different representatives of hypotactic contrastive DMs have been found with notable frequency in my corpus; apart from the most frequent although (109 cases), all the remaining markers are used with relatively similar frequency. Table 2, in which the frequency of a particular DM per 1,000 words is given, compares my results with those given in Biber et al. (1999, 887); consequently, only contrastive DMs found in the latter source are listed. The results indicate that native speakers of English tend to use most of the markers compared less frequently, which, in my opinion, is due to the fact that the repertoire of contrastive DMs they use is much broader than that of novice non-native speakers in the writing of diploma theses. Similar results have been found by KoĜínková (2008), who in her study compares the use of linking devices in argumentative essays written by Czech students with essays written by native speakers of English.

182

Chapter Sixteen

Table 1: Most frequent contrastive DMs for hypotactic and paratactic contrastive relations in students’ theses (by fields of study)5 i.

No. of words

87,636 Linguistics

78,206 Literature

88,628 Methodolog y

254,470 TOTAL

37 18 29 25 18 137

47 2 4 18 7 82

25 12 11 9 5 62

109 32 44 52 30 281

Methodology 162 85 1 10 6 22 11 2 1 307

TOTAL 566 222 15 63 19 81 39 21 61 1112

369

1393

Hypotactic DMs although even though though while whereas All hypotactic DMs Paratactic DMs but however instead nevertheless nonetheless on the other hand still though yet

Linguistics 180 58 7 34 10 36 20 16 56 428

Literature 224 79 7 19 3 23 8 3 4 377

All paratactic DMs All DMs

5

565

459

Table 1 includes detailed results concerning only the most frequent DMs, although in the lines labelled “all DMs”, “all hypotactic DMs” and “all paratactic DMs”, the total numbers of occurrences in the respective groups are listed.

Exploring Sequential Relationships in Learner Discourse

183

Table 2: Comparison between diploma theses written by non-native speakers and research articles written by native writers of English (Biber et al. 1999) Contrastive DMs in Non-native speakers paratactic relations of English (diploma theses) anyway 0.02 however 0.87 nevertheless 0.25 on the other hand 0.32 though 0.08 yet 0.24

Native speakers of English (research articles) 0.05 1.1 0.1 0.1 0.05 0.1

Table 3 provides yet another comparison, this time between diploma theses written by students in the different fields of study, i.e. linguistics, literature, and ELT methodology, and native speakers of English as presented in Malá’s article (2006), all compared with particular regard to the frequency of occurrence of hypotactic DMs as compared to that of paratactic DMs expressing contrast. My results show some differences between fields of study and suggest that the results drawn from linguistics diploma theses are closest of all to those drawn from research articles written by native speakers of English. However, it should be stated that there are marked differences between individual authors, even within the same field of study; to discuss and illustrate these differences is, unfortunately, beyond the scope of the present paper. Table 3: Comparison between diploma theses written by non-native speakers and scientific articles written by native speakers of English (taken from Malá 2006) Type of corpus

Hypotactic DMs (%) Linguistics theses 24.3 Literature theses 17.9 ELT methodology theses 16.8 Articles by native speakers 29.9

Paratactic DMs (%) 75.7 82.1 83.2 71.1

184

Chapter Sixteen

5. Exemplification Let me now exemplify some of the contrastive DMs used by authors of diploma theses from different fields of study. Example 1 is a piece of text taken from the group of linguistics theses in which students often tend to overuse some of the markers they know and thus are mostly able to use them correctly (cf. Vogel 2006), as in example 1, where the author uses a contrastive DM in almost every other sentence, sometimes incorrectly 6. (1) (Linguistics, Text 1) Cohesion—many scholars speculate that the legal register is low in cohesive devices because of the lack of clear sentence boundaries, which is a phenomenon rather problematic in legal English. However, cohesive devices, if they appear in a legal document, are distinctive. 1. Anaphora—the scarce use of reference (mainly of pronouns) and repetition, though making a legal text “heavy and monotonous” (Hiltunen 1990, 84), are significant of legal documents–they avoid ambiguity. On the other hand, the use of said and such is characteristic. 2. Conjunctions—it is possible to find some terms that contribute to cohesion, e.g. hereinafter, aforesaid, etc. 3. Substitution—it is generally considered rare in legal English, though some instances can be found. 4. Ellipsis—the concern for precision and explicitness results in the lack of intersentential ellipsis, however an example of intrasentential ellipsis can be seen in the use of whiz-deletion.

Example 2, taken from the corpus of literature theses, illustrates that novice non-native speakers of English use a rather limited repertoire of contrastive DMs, the most frequent ones being however and but. Although it cannot be exemplified here, owing to the lack of space, it should be stated that some students tend to cumulate certain selected contrastive DMs either at the beginning or at the end of their diploma theses, in particular when introducing and concluding their arguments (cf. Biber et al. 1999, 886ff), while using hardly any other markers in most of the main text, not even to signal the connection between their own point and somebody else’s argument. (2) (Literature, Text 4) After the mother passes away Julie demonstrates her power again as she locks the bedroom the mother has died in and does not want to allow anybody to come in and see her. Jack, however, as the second important person in the house forces his sister to let him see their mum. Later on, these two have to tell 6

All contrastive DMs in bold letters indicate students’ mistakes.

Exploring Sequential Relationships in Learner Discourse

185

the younger ones the sad message. In contrast to their father’s death, nobody wants to accept the fact that their mother has just died. Jack’s regained position, however, does not allow him to suffer as much as his mother would deserve, nevertheless, he is not able to face the pressure of all those circumstances and when alone he allows all his feelings to come up: “For a moment I perceived clearly the fact of her death, and my crying became dry and hard. But then I pictured myself as someone whose mother has just died and my crying was wet and easy again.” (ibid, p. 53)

The last example is taken from an ELT methodology thesis; it shows three different tokens of contrastive DMs expressing hypotactic relations, namely though, although and even though, two of them illustrating a typical error, namely the use of a comma after a hypotactic marker (see a comma after although and even though in example 3), and one token of the paratactic marker however, i.e. the most frequent marker of all not only in my corpus, but also in all semantic categories of linking adverbials in academic prose (see Biber et al. 1999, 887). (3) (Methodology, Text 4) Though the performances were not filmed again, the final discussion was very interesting and lively, as the students fully identified with their new identities and situations. Although, the organization of the project in this mixed ability class was rather complicated and difficulties were also encountered with making the students start the activities, finally, they got fully involved in and enjoyed the project. 2.3 Spanish Armada Integra Grammar School in Brno Even though, the performances were not as lively as in the 'Exploration overseas‘ project, students used a considerable amount of the newly gained information. Discussions took place after each performance; however, it was sometimes difficult to make students transmit their attention from watching the performances to discussing them. A great advantage and help would be to film the performances and use the recordings in the final discussion. The extra task was not done, as only two lessons block was allotted. Even though it was difficult to make the students do any activity, finally they actively participated, acquired the basic facts and enjoyed the whole project, mainly the role plays.

Finally, it is worth listing here some of the most typical errors made by the novice non-native speakers of English included in my corpus: 1. students are not able to use contrastive DMs properly; 2. students are not able to distinguish between subordinating conjunctions and adverbials (e.g. though as conjunction vs though as adverb), especially in literature and ELT methodology theses;

186

Chapter Sixteen

3. students tend to overuse certain of the selected contrastive DMs, while introducing every other sentence with a marker, notably in linguistics theses; 4. students use only a limited repertoire of contrastive DMs, for example, although, but, however, and on the other hand, especially in ELT methodology theses. (For similar results based on the analysis of linking devices in argumentative essays written by Czech students, see KoĜínková 2008).

6. Conclusion In expressing sequential relationships between discourse segments, contrastive DMs are used to organize discourse space, which is particularly important in academic prose. By signalling how the author intends the basic message that follows to relate to the prior discourse, they unambiguously contribute to both discourse cohesion and coherence. Textorganizing devices, including the contrastive DMs analysed, play a crucial role in achieving communicative competence in the learning of any foreign language, namely when achieving grammatical competence within linguistic competences and discourse competence within pragmatic competences (cf. Trim 2006). The study has proved that novice non-native speakers of English use the selected markers differently from the ways applied by experienced native speakers of English. The former use certain of the markers incorrectly and, moreover, they tend to use only a limited repertoire of the markers under investigation. Although there are differences between students writing their diploma theses in different fields of study, my results clearly indicate that it is very important to devote sufficient attention to the study of DMs and their appropriate use in written discourse, notably at advanced levels of language-learning such as university level.

References Biber, Douglas, Stig Johansson, Geoffrey Leech, Susan Conrad and Edward Finegan. 1999. The Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written English. London: Longman de Beaugrande, Robert and Wolfgang U. Dressler. 1981. Introduction to Text Linguistics. London: Longman Bublitz, Wolfram. 1988. Supportive Fellow-Speakers and Cooperative Conversations. Discourse Topics and Topical Actions. Participant

Exploring Sequential Relationships in Learner Discourse

187

Roles and ‘Recipient’ Action on a Particular Type of Everyday Conversation. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Dušková, Libuše et al. 1988. Mluvnice souþasné angliþtiny na pozadí þeštiny, Praha: Academia Dontcheva-Navratilova, Olga. 2007. On Coherence in Written Discourse. In Complexity and Coherence. Approaches to Linguistic Research and Language Teaching. REAL Studies 3, ed. Josef Schmied, Christoph Haase and Renata Povolná, 127-145, Göttingen: Cuvillier Verlag. Fowler, Roger. 1986.. Linguistic Criticism. Oxford: Oxford University Press Fraser, Bruce. 1990. An Approach to Discourse Markers. Journal of Pragmatics 14, 383-395. —. 1998. Contrastive Discourse Markers in English. In Discourse Markers. Description and Theory, ed. Andreas H. Junker and Yael Ziv, 301-326, Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. —. 1999. What are Discourse Markers? Journal of Pragmatics 31, 931952. Halliday, Michael A. K. and Ruqaiya Hasan. 1989. Language, Context, and Text: Aspects of Language in a Social-Semiotic Perspective. 2nd ed., Oxford: Oxford University Press HĤlková, Irena. 2005. Linking Devices in English Academic Prose. In Discourse and Interaction 1. Brno Seminar on Linguistic Studies in English: Proceedings. Sborník prací Pedagogické fakulty Masarykovy univerzity v BrnČ. Vol. 187, ed. Renata Povolná and Olga DontchevaNavratilova, 53-60. Brno: Masaryk University. KoĜínková, Jana. 2008. Textová koheze v písemném projevu pokroþilých studentĤ angliþtiny a v uþebnicích anglického jazyka, Unpublished PhD thesis, Olomouc: Univerzita Palackého Levinson, Stephen C. 1983. Pragmatics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Malá, Markéta. 2006. Contrastive Markers and Dialogicality. In Discourse and Interaction 2. Sborník prací Pedagogické fakulty Masarykovy univerzity. Vol. 198., ed. Renata Povolná and Olga DontchevaNavratilova, 97-107. Brno: Masaryk University. Mey, Jacob L. 2001. Pragmatics. An Introduction. 2nd ed., Oxford: Blackwell. Povolná, Renata. 2009. Exploring Interactive Discourse Markers in Academic Spoken Discourse. In Coherence and Cohesion in Spoken and Written Discourse, ed. Olga Dontcheva-Navratilova and Renata Povolná, 60-80. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. —. 2008. Why are There so Many Labels for Discourse Markers?

188

Chapter Sixteen

Discourse and Interaction 1/1, 115-124. Seidlhofer, Barbara and Henry H. Widdowson. 1997. Coherence in Summary: The Contexts of Appropriate Discourse. In Coherence in Spoken and Written Discourse. How to Create it and How to Describe it, ed Wolfram Bublitz, Uta Lenk and Eija Ventola, 205-219. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Sinclair John M. et al. 1987. Collins COBUILD English Language Dictionary, London: Collins. Schiffrin, Deborah. 1987. Discourse Markers, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Stubbs, Michael. 1983. Discourse Analysis: The Sociolinguistic Analysis of Natural Language, Oxford: Blackwell. Trim, John L. M. 2005. The Role of the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages in Teacher Training. Lecture delivered in Graz, September 2005, http://www.ecml.at/document/press/trim.pdf Vogel, Radek. 2008. Sentence Linkers in Essays and Papers by Native vs. Non- Native Writers. Discourse and Interaction 1/2, 119-126. Widdowson, Henry G. 1979. Explorations in Applied Linguistics, Oxford: Oxford University Press

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN SOCIAL DISTANCE IN TRANSLATING FOR CONFINED SPACE: A CASE STUDY OF THE POLISH SUBTITLES FOR THE QUEEN BY STEPHEN FREARS IZABELA SZYMAēSKA

1. Introduction This paper explores the leading notion of the volume in two senses. One is the actual space limitation that influences the decisions of the translator in subtitling; the other is the metaphorical idea of space that underlies the notion of social distance. We shall discuss an interesting case when the space limitations characteristic of subtitles intensify the difficulty in rendering the social distance relations crucial for the interpretation of the source text and expressed by forms of address. Translation scholars view forms of address as an exemplary instance of linguistic and cultural problems inextricably intertwined (e.g. Tabakowska 2002, 25; Hejwowski 2004, 121). This is due to the fact that forms of address code in conventionalized lexical and grammatical resources different schemas of social relations, in particular of distance in terms of rank and acquaintance, between participants of communication (Tomiczek 1983, 24-25; Huszcza 2006, 56; Marcjanik 2007, 13-14, 36). Being dependent on social structure and codes of behaviour, those factors are highly culture specific (Lubecka 1993, 18), therefore finding a close match between conventionalized forms of address in two languages is often a problem. The material to be analysed comes from the Polish subtitles for the Oscar-winning film The Queen (2006), directed by Stephen Frears, starring Helen Mirren as Queen Elizabeth II. This outstanding picture shows the crisis faced by the British royal family, and particularly by the

190

Chapter Seventeen

Queen, after the death of Princess Diana in August 1997. An important theme is the evolution of the relationship between the Queen and the newly elected Prime Minister Tony Blair, who symbolizes the modern world juxtaposed with the conservative circle of the royal court. From the perspective of translation the most intriguing aspect of the film is how the Queen is addressed, how she addresses others and whether the distance between her and her interlocutors is successfully marked in the Polish version. The translator faces two types of problems here.

2. Distance in English and Polish forms of address The first source of difficulty lies in the differences between English and Polish in marking the distancing vs. non-distancing forms of address. To mention only the basic issues that will be relevant to the analysis, in English the degree of distance is linguistically coded only in appellatives,1 while pronouns and verb forms in the clause (which will be jointly called here “syntactically integrated forms of address”2—henceforth SIFs for short) are neutralized in this respect (ŁaziĔski 2006, 57, Huszcza 2006, 126-127). In Polish, where distance is signalled not only by appellatives but also by SIFs, the translator is forced to make marked choices (Wojtasiewicz 1992, 117-118), first of all between the non-distancing second person pronouns and verb forms and the distancing pattern, involving a range of expressions which function as honorific pronouns and combine with third person verb forms. Furthermore, it is sometimes assumed that Polish requires forms of address across the sentence (including the appellative) to be consistent in the level of honorification (Huszcza 2006, 107). With honorification being a scale rather than a binary opposition, there may be a degree of flexibility here (Rusiecki 2008, 37); nevertheless it is important to note that some combinations of SIFs with appellatives are considered impolite and unacceptable in standard Polish (Marcjanik 2007, 50). It should also be pointed out that some combinations of SIFs with appellatives are conventionalised wholes

1

The term “appellatives” is used here after Rusiecki (2008, 32) and Szarkowska (2008) to refer to what is often called “vocatives” in English (phrases that refer to the addressee but are not syntactically or semantically integrated with the accompanying sentence; Levinson 1983, 71). For languages such as Polish, which have the vocative case, it seems advisable to differentiate the pragmatic function of such expressions from their grammatical form, especially that appellatives do not necessarily appear in the vocative case. 2 The term is adopted after Tomiczek (1983, 27-28).

Social Distance in Translating for Confined Space

191

with their own pragmatic value and the effect of their usage in not a sum of the effects of the parts.

3. Subtitling restrictions Another factor that conditions the translator’s decisions is the fact that subtitling is translation for confined space. Subtitling involves a change from the oral to the written mode of communication (Rosa 2001, 214); due to the limited space available on the screen and the average pace of reading subtitles often need to be significantly reduced in comparison with the original dialogue (even by 30-40%; Gottlieb 2001, 247; Tomaszkiewicz 2006, 113) through omission and a variety of condensation procedures (Bogucki 2004, 126-130; Tomaszkiewicz 2006, 128-151; Cintas and Ramael 2007, 150-171). Reduction is most likely to affect those features of the dialogue which are considered relatively unimportant for understanding the plot and recoverable thanks to the image and the viewer’s general communicative competence. Therefore, phatic expressions and markers of interpersonal relations, especially appellatives, are frequently omitted (Hatim and Mason 2000, 431; Rosa 2001, 216-217; Szarkowska 2008, 243). On the other hand, forms of address often carry so important clues concerning the relationship between the characters that they cannot be disregarded and their rendition requires careful consideration. This is in fact the case in The Queen.

4. The case study: translation solutions Let us now examine how the Polish subtitles have been shaped by both the above-mentioned factors. The most troublesome task is to render the ways the Queen is addressed by those who are lower in rank, that is, actually, all the characters except for the members of her family. It is also interesting to note what impression of distance relations is created through the choice of the Polish forms that render the way in which such characters are addressed by the Queen. In the original dialogues the Queen is addressed by her inferiors as “ma’am”, and only exceptionally as “Your Majesty”; the SIF is invariably “you”. The most obvious form to address a monarch in Polish is “Wasza Królewska MoĞü” (lit. “your royal majesty”), which can be used either as an appellative or as a syntactically integrated honorific pronoun. The translator opts for this expression only when rendering the appellative “Your Majesty”, as in example (1); “you” is rendered as the 2nd person

192

Chapter Seventeen

singular pronoun, i.e. the translator chooses the contemporary nondistancing pattern: 3 (1) Tony Blair’s (TB) first telephone conversation with the Queen (Q) after Diana’s death TB: Good morning, Your Majesty. Q: Prime Minister. TB: May I say, by the way, how very sorry I am and that the thoughts and prayers of my family are with you at this terrible time and with the princes in particular. Q: Thank you.

TB: DzieĔ dobry, Wasza Królewska MoĞü. PragnĊ wyraziü mój głĊboki smutek. MyĞli i modlitwy mojej rodziny są w tych strasznych chwilach z Tobą [with you2SG-INSTR] i ksiąĪĊtami w szczególnoĞci. Q: DziĊkujĊ.

The appellative “ma’am” causes more problems as it is used very frequently in combination with the troublesome “you”. The translator obviously wanted to differentiate “ma’am” from “Your Majesty”; secondly, because of the space restrictions, it would be impossible to use “Wasza Królewska MoĞü” frequently, either as an appellative or as a syntactically integrated pronoun combining with 3rd person singular verb forms, as shown in (2a): (2) (a) Czy Wasza Królewska MoĞü zamierza wydaü oĞwiadczenie? INTERROGATIVE your royal majesty intend-3SG to-make statement Does Your Majesty intend to make a statement? (b) Czy pani zamierza wydaü oĞwiadczenie, (pani prezydent)? INTERROGATIVE madam intend-3SG to-make statement, (madam president)? Do you intend to make a statement, (Mrs President)?

Since it would be entirely inappropriate to address the Queen with the standard contemporary distancing pattern shown in (2b), with “pani” (“madam/Mrs”) as a syntactically integrated honorific pronoun (although the pattern would be entirely acceptable in addressing most other woman of high rank, for instance a president), the translator resorts to less conventional solutions, which are instructive to consider. 3 For reasons of space the Polish subtitles will not be back-translated; only some crucial expressions will be glossed in square brackets. The abbreviations used in the glosses: 2SG – 2nd person singular, 3SG – 3rd person singular, NOM – nominative, GEN – genitive, DAT – dative, ACC – accusative, INSTR – instrumental, PR-present.

Social Distance in Translating for Confined Space

193

The fist technique is to render “ma’am” as the appellative “Pani” (“madam/my lady”) with 2nd person singular SIFs, as in (3): (3) the end of a telephone conversation in which the Queen rejects Tony Blair’s advice TB: If that’s your decision, ma’am, of course the government will support it. Let’s keep in touch. Q: (irritated) Yes, let’s.

TB: Skoro taka jest Twoja [your2SG-NOM] decyzja, Pani, oczywiĞcie rząd bĊdzie ją popierał. BądĨmy w kontakcie. Q: BądĨmy.

Let us note that the translator capitalizes on the change from the oral to the written mode of communication, spelling the appellative and the possessive with capital letters, which is conventionally done only in letters to signal respect. This can be considered a compensation technique. Another solution is to add the appellative “Pani” in some places where there is no appellative in the original, but where 2nd person singular SIFs occur in the subtitles. An example is given in (4b): (4) The Queen talking to her secretary Robin Janvrin (RJ) about the newly elected Prime Minister (a) RJ: The Prime Minster is on his way, ma’am. Q: To be, Robin, Prime Minister to be […] (b) RJ: He is married to a woman of known antimonarchist sympathies. You may remember her curtsy the first time you met; it could best be described as ‘shallow’.

(a) RJ: Premier jest w drodze, Ma’am. Q: Przyszły premier, Robinie […] (b) RJ – Jego Īona słynie z antymonarchistycznych sympatii. PamiĊtasz [remember-2SG-PR], Pani, jej ukłon / przy pierwszym spotkaniu,/ delikatnie mówiąc „płytki”.

It should be noted that adding appellatives in subtitling is uncommon; the frequent application of this technique shows that marking the distance between the characters was an important concern for the translator. Adding the appellative “Pani” is certainly intended to cancel the interpretations automatically evoked by Polish 2nd person singular forms, namely that the interlocutors are in a symmetrical relation or the speaker is dominant (Tabakowska 2002, 32; ŁaziĔski 2006, 114-115). It should be

194

Chapter Seventeen

noted that in contemporary Polish “pani” used as an appellative without a Christian name or a title is perceived as substandard and impolite, or humorous (Huszcza 2006, 105). Therefore, knowing the context, the Polish recipient can only reinterpret the combination of the appellative “Pani” with 2nd person singular SIFs as an archaic distancing pattern, known for instance from historical novels (ŁaziĔski 2006, 16). Interestingly, this obsolete pattern juxtaposed with contemporary forms of address creates an awkward impression of stylistic incoherence. This can be demonstrated with fragment (5), where in the subtitles the Queen addresses Tony Blair using the standard contemporary distancing pattern with “pan” (“sir/Mr”) as the syntactically integrated honorific pronoun and 3rd person verb forms, while he uses the archaic pattern with the appellative “Pani” and 2nd person singular SIFs: (5) The Queen talks to Tony Blair before appointing him Prime Minister, trying to show him how inexperienced he is Q: Have they shown you how to start a nuclear war yet? TB: Aa… no. Q: The first thing we do, apparently. Then we take away your passport and spend the rest of the time sending you around the world. TB: You obviously know my job better than I do. Q: Well, you are my tenth prime minister, Mr Blair. My first, of course, was Winston Churchill.

Q: Wie pan [know-3SG-PR sirNOM] juĪ jak rozpocząü wojnĊ nuklearną? TB: - Nie. Q: - To pierwsza rzecz. Potem zabiera siĊ panu [sir-DAT] paszport i wysyła po całym Ğwiecie. TB: Lepiej niĪ ja znasz [know2SG-PR] moje obowiązki, Pani. Q: Jest pan [be-3SG-PR sirNOM] moim dziesiątym premierem _____. Pierwszym był Winston Churchill.

Another technique is to reproduce (Hejwowski’s term, 2004, 76-77) the foreign appellative “ma’am”, again spelt with a capital letter, which is exemplified in (4a). Parallel to the previous method, the translator sometimes adds “Ma’am” in places where it is not used in the original, as in (6).

Social Distance in Translating for Confined Space

195

(6) The Queen poses for a portrait; it is the election day Q: I envy you being able to vote. Not the actual ticking of the box, although it would be… nice to experience that once, but… the sheer joy of being partial. Painter: Yes. Of course, one forgets that as sovereign you are not entitled to vote.

Q: - ZazdroszczĊ panu [sir-DAT] tego głosowania. Nie stawiania znaczka, choü miło byłoby tego doĞwiadczyü. Samej przyjemnoĞci bycia stronniczym. P: - Jako monarchini, Ma’am, nie uczestniczysz [participate-2SG-PR] w akcie wyborczym.

One of the reasons for the reproduction, apart from “Ma’am” being a short word, is probably the highly amusing scene quoted in (7): (7) A Buckingham Palace attendant instructs Tony Blair how to behave in the presence of the Queen I will introduce you, the Queen will extend her hand, you’ll go to her, bow again, then shake her hand. A couple of other things. It’s ‘mæm’ as in ‘ham’, not ‘ma:m’ as in ‘farm’. And when you’re in the presence at no point must you show your back.

PrzedstawiĊ Pana, Królowa wyciągnie rĊkĊ, podejdzie pan, ukłoni siĊ, i poda rĊkĊ. Kilka innych spraw. „Ma’am” wymawia siĊ jak „ham”, nie jak „farm” [ma’am is pronounced like ham not like farm]. W Īadnym momencie nie wolno przy Niej obracaü siĊ plecami.

Thanks to that scene, appearing early in the film, the translator can hope that the viewers will figure out that “Ma’am” is a honorific reserved for the Queen and link it with “Pani” used in other places. Yet another technique is to choose Polish constructions that allow the translator to avoid pronouns, possessives and personal verb forms, for example infinitives, elliptical structures and nominalizations. This solution is often combined with the omission of appellatives, which accords with the general tendency in subtitling. Naturally, when the 2nd person singular SIFs are avoided, appellatives as markers of distance are not so acutely needed. Examples are given in (8):

196

Chapter Seventeen

(8) Robin Janvrin comes to tell the Queen about the arrangements for Diana’s funeral RJ: Good morning, ma’am. Q: Yes, Robin, what can we do for you? RJ: Ma’am, there was a meeting at the Palace this morning. Q: Ah, about the funeral arrangements, yes. RJ: The Lord Chamberlain faxed over these plans for you to consider. There is now general agreement, ma’am, that a public funeral would be more appropriate. […] Q: Was there… was there anything else? RJ. No, ma’am. Oh… yes, ma’am, one other thing. The police commissioner was keen that you considered the idea of a condolence book. It would give the growing crowds something to do.

RJ: DzieĔ dobry, Ma’am. Q: Słucham, Robin? RJ: - _____ Rano w Pałacu było spotkanie. Q: - W sprawie pogrzebu, tak. RJ: Lord Szambelan przesyła te plany do rozwaĪenia [lord chamberlain sends these plans for consideration]. Jest ogólna zgoda _____ , Īe publiczny/ pogrzeb byłby bardziej właĞciwy. […] Q: Czy coĞ jeszcze? RJ: Nie ____. A, tak ____. Komisarz policji prosił, by rozwaĪyü wyłoĪenie ksiĊgi kondolencyjnej. [police commissioner asked to-consider laying-out condolence book]. Dałoby to tłumom jakieĞ zajĊcie.

The range of solutions applied by the translator indicates that the problem of rendering distance was carefully considered; it remains to assess whether it was solved effectively. The translator was obviously very creative and skilful, especially in using the avoidance technique; nevertheless it seems that the objective difficulties created by the combination of the two factors involved made it impossible to avoid some undesirable side-effects. One of them is the above-mentioned archaic quality of the appellative “Pani” with 2nd person singular SIFs, which makes this pattern curiously out of place in a realistic film with a contemporary setting.4 Mixing archaic and contemporary forms of address seems to increase the viewer’s processing effort, contrary to the usual purpose of subtitling, since the mixture does not easily fit into a single familiar convention. Secondly, the choice of the 2nd person singular pattern to some extent distorts the interpretation of the relationship 4

This is an interesting example of difficulty in achieving coordination between the language and the image, which is one of crucial concerns in translating a polysemiotic text such as a film (Gottlieb 2001, 245).

Social Distance in Translating for Confined Space

197

between the Queen and her interlocutors intended by the film-makers. This is particularly well-visible in the Queen’s conversations with Tony Blair, whom she addresses “Mr Blair” or “Prime Minister”, as opposed to her employees, for instance the secretary, whom she addresses by their first names, as is exemplified in (4a) and (8). In the Polish version Tony Blair’s addressing the Queen with the 2nd person singular forms and her addressing him with the 3rd person singular forms seems to reverse the difference in rank between them. This unintended effect is most perceivable in those stretches of dialogue where there is no space to include appellatives in subtitles, as in the conversation closing the film, whose fragment is quoted in (9): (9) Tony Blair talks to the Queen for the first time after the Diana crisis TB: […] we haven’t had a chance to speak since that week. And I wanted to offer my apologies. Q: Whatever for? TB: In case you felt manhandled or managed in any way. Q: No, not at all…. I don’t think I shall ever understand what happened this summer. TB: Well, the circumstances were exceptional, ma’am. And in the end you showed great personal strength, courage and humility. Q: You are confusing humility with humiliation. TB: That’s not true. Q: You didn’t read the cards on the flowers outside the palace that Friday. TB: I actually think history will show it was a good week for you. Q: And an even better one for you, Mr Blair. TB: But there are 52 weeks in a

TB: […] nie było okazji rozmawiaü od … tamtego tygodnia. Chciałem przeprosiü. Q: Za co? TB: JeĞli czułaĞ [feel-2SG-PAST] siĊ, Pani, Ĩle potraktowana czy manipulowana. Q: Ani trochĊ. Chyba nigdy nie zrozumiem, co siĊ stało tego lata. TB: OkolicznoĞci były wyjątkowe_____ . WykazałaĞ [show-2SG-PAST] jednak wielką osobistą siłĊ, odwagĊ i pokorĊ. Q: Myli pan [confuse-3SG-PR sirNOM] pokorĊ z upokorzeniem. TB: Wcale nie. Q: Nie czytał pan [read-3SG-PAST sir-NOM] kart przy kwiatach przed pałacem. TB: Historia pokaĪe, Īe był to dla Ciebie [for you-2SG-GEN] dobry tydzieĔ. Q: A jeszcze lepszy dla pana [for sir-GEN] _____. TB: Ale w roku są 52 tygodnie, a 2500, odkąd jesteĞ [be-2SG-PR] Królową. Gdy bĊdą oceniaü Twoją

198

Chapter Seventeen

year, two and a half thousand in the time since you’ve been Queen. And when people come to assess your legacy, they won’t remember those few days. Q: Oh, really? You don’t think that what affection people once had for mm…. for this institution has been diminished? TB: No, not at all. You are more respected now than ever.

[your-2SG-ACC] spuĞciznĊ, nie bĊdą pamiĊtaü tych kilku dni. Q: Doprawdy? Nie sądzi pan [think-3SG-PR sir-NOM], Īe sympatia, jaką ludzie mieli…. do tej instytucji, zmalała? TB. Ani trochĊ. Szanują CiĊ [you2SG-ACC] bardziej niĪ kiedykolwiek.

The conversation is intended to show that having gone through the crisis together the Queen and the Prime Minister have come to accept and respect each other’s attitudes, so the distance between them is subtly reduced, yet the difference in rank is obviously not changed. The Polish subtitles, however, sound as if the Prime Minister was patronizing the Queen, because there is hardly any space in this dense dialogue to add appellatives. The effectiveness of using the archaic pattern (2nd person singular SIFs and the appellative “Pani”) as a honorific one depends on using it as a whole; with the appellative missing the viewer is highly likely to “switch” automatically to the contemporary interpretation of 2nd person singular SIFs as non-distancing. This can be attributed to our perception of politeness being largely subconscious and influenced by the social schemes underlying our native language patterns (Lubecka 1993, 17). Let us note that the “reversing” effect would not occur and the stylistic incoherence would not be so perceivable if it was possible to use the option shown in (2a), since, crucially, this is a 3rd person singular SIF pattern. This choice, however, is blocked by space restrictions.

5. Conclusion It is usually suggested that in translating forms of address one should apply the functional strategy and imagine how people would address each other in an analogical situation in the target language and culture. One of the problems faced by the translator in this case is that Polish has only archaic forms to address a monarch, and those in turn do not easily fit stylistically with the other elements of the film. The conventional resources of the target language do not offer an easy way to recreate the scheme of distance relations so crucial for interpreting the film, especially that those resources that seem most appropriate from the pragmatic

Social Distance in Translating for Confined Space

199

perspective have to be rejected due to subtitling restrictions. Marking social distance in translation is challenging enough as it is; the range of translation techniques employed in The Queen shows what puzzle it can become when the translator’s choices are additionally restricted by space.

References Cintas, Jorge, and Aline Ramael. 2007. Audiovisual translation: Subtitling. Manchester/Kinderhook: St Jerome Publishing. Gottlieb, Henrik. 2001. Subtitling. In Routledge encyclopedia of translation studies, ed. Mona Baker, 244-248. London/New York: Routledge. Hatim, Basil, and Ian Mason. 2000. Politeness in screen translation. In The translation studies reader, ed. Lawrence Venuti, 430-445. London /New York: Routledge. Hejwowski, Krzysztof. 2004. Kognitywno-komunikacyjna teoria przekładu. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Huszcza, Romuald. 2006. HonoryfikatywnoĞü. Gramatyka, pragmatyka, typologia. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN Levinson, Stephen. 1983. Pragmatics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lubecka, Anna. 1993. Forms of address in English, French and Polish: a sociolinguistic approach. Kraków: Uniwersytet JagielloĔski. ŁaziĔski, Marek. 2006. O paniach i panach. Polskie rzeczowniki tytularne i ich asymetria rodzajowo-płciowa. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Marcjanik, Małgorzata. 2007. GrzecznoĞü w komunikacji jĊzykowej. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Rosa, Alexandra. 2001. Features of oral and written communication in subtitling. In (Mult)imedia translation: concepts, practices and research, ed. Yves Gambier and Henrik Gottlieb, 213-221. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Rusiecki, Jan. 2008. Apellatives and verbal forms of address. Linguistica Silesiana 29: 29-42. Szarkowska, Agnieszka. 2008. Translating Apellatives in Polish Soap Operas into English. In Relevant worlds: Current perspectives on language, translation and Relevance Theory, ed. Ewa Wałaszewska, Marta Kisielewska-Krysiuk, Aniela Korzeniowska and Małgorzata Grzegorzewska, 238-251. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing.

200

Chapter Seventeen

Tabakowska, ElĪbieta. 2002. Bariery kulturowe są zbudowane z gramatyki. In Przekład-jĊzyk-kultura, ed. Roman Lewicki, 25-34. Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS. Tomaszkiewicz, Teresa. 2006. Przekład audiowizualny. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Tomiczek, Eugeniusz. 1983. System adresatywny współczesnego jĊzyka polskiego i niemieckiego. Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego. Wojtasiewicz, Olgierd. 1992. WstĊp do teorii przekładu. Warszawa: Tepis.

Examples The Queen (Królowa). 2006. Directed by Stephen Frears. Pathe Productions. Polish DVD edition by SPI Video, translated by Maria Etienne, subtitles by Laser Film Text.

PART IV: SPACE-RELATED MECHANISMS OF LANGUAGE LEARNING: SECOND LANGUAGE ACQUISITION AND FOREIGN LANGUAGE LEARNING

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN THE CONCEPT OF SPACE IN FL PRONUNCIATION LEARNING MAŁGORZATA BARAN-ŁUCARZ

The paper begins with a short introduction of the term space in reference to foreign language (FL) learning. What follows is a discussion on when it is vital to provide students with space in the case of pronunciation learning, and when it is more beneficial if the teacher takes control. Finally a presentation of two individual learner differences (ILDs), i.e. the level of Field Independence and Ambiguity Tolerance, and a reflection on the importance of space when it comes to these characteristics of FL students are offered. The theoretical considerations are supplemented with short reports on empirical studies showing whether indeed FL pronunciation learning space is needed and helpful or rather disadvantageous depending on the level of FI and AT.

1. Introducing the concept of space in FL learning The concept of space in learning (or learning space) is used most often in the context of distance learning. However, it may be interpreted also from other perspectives, in reference to various settings and to the mastery of several disciplines, FL being only one of them. It seems that it may be a crucial concept also in the case of FL pronunciation learning. In most general terms, learning space can be considered students’ freedom and the possibility to make independent choices and decisions in various aspects, which is strictly interrelated with the amount of teacher control and intervention in the process of learning. The intervention and control of the language instructor differs significantly depending on the teaching contexts, i.e. whether it is a rulesearching instructional context (inductive approach), instructed context (deductive approach), incidental, or implicit (after Robinson 1995). Students

The Concept of Space in FL Pronunciation Learning

203

may feel a lot or little space depending on the types of error correction techniques that are used (e.g. repetition, elicitation, echoing, providing more learning space; explicit correction, giving no choice and freedom), who corrects (the teacher, peers, or the student who produced the erroneous form), and in what type of activities (meaning or form oriented). Various amount of space can be given to the learners by the teacher when it comes to evaluation of their level and progress made during the language course, and decisions about FL learning, such as how far to go, what norm (accent) to study, how to learn, or what materials to use. Allowing students to decide in many of these areas promotes autonomy, which the concept of space in some spheres seems to overlap with. It is possible for teachers to give their learners more space in one area (e.g. by favouring the inductive approach) and less space in another (e.g. when using mainly explicit correction in writing or speaking). However, it is probably more common to be consequently more or less space-giving, by representing a particular teaching style, e.g. an authoritarian, affective or counseling style (after Strojna 2004). While the authoritarian teacher makes most of the decisions, a lot of learning freedom and choices are given to the students in the affective style. Finally, although the counseling teacher encourages learners’ independence and sovereign decisions in some aspects, it is him/her who sets basic goals and minimal requirements. In the last two styles teachers consider it crucial to get to know their learners and take into account their preferences and needs in learning. They also believe success can be facilitated if the atmosphere in the classroom is positive, and students feel secure in each other’s company. It seems that learners vary in their preference for either the more or less space-giving approach, depending on their age, level, goal, and most of all on several individual characteristics. Consequently, it is important for the teacher to make an attempt to adjust the teaching approach to the learners and provide them with as much space as they need. Unfortunately, it seems that complete space and freedom given to learners when it comes to FL pronunciation is frequently a result of ignoring and neglecting this FL aspect rather than a conscious step forward to meet the needs of the students.

204

Chapter Eighteen

2. Space in FL pronunciation learning 2.1. Learning space in the two approaches to pronunciation teaching Pronunciation of a FL can be taught following one of the two main approaches (Celce-Murcia et al. 2000), in which different amounts of space are offered to the learners. In the intuitive-imitative approach students are believed to be capable of achieving an acceptable level of target language (TL) pronunciation by relying solely on perceptive skills and intuition. In this sense we may say that the approach gives the students a lot of learning space. Although the learners are not provided with any formal instruction by the teacher, they are not left completely on their own. The technique applied to help them progress in pronunciation is imitation, which can direct the students’ attention to the essential features of the TL segments and/or suprasegmentals. The second approach, which most phoneticians and pronunciation instructors are in favour of nowadays, particularly in the case of postpuberty learners, is the analytic-linguistic approach (Celce-Murcia et al. 2000). It is based on the assumption that phonetic and phonological metaawareness are essential to be able to reach high levels in FL pronunciation. Consequently, this time the learners are not only exposed to the language and provided with a proper model as in the earlier approach, but it is also their meta-awareness and attention that are tried to be awoken by providing them with basic information from the area of phonetics, e.g. on the place and manner of articulating certain sounds, or how they differ from their L1 counterparts. Since there is more intervention of the instructor, who decides, among others, which aspects of FL pronunciation to focus on and in what order, we may say that the students are given less learning space. However, we may expect learners to feel some sense of space and freedom when offered different types of presentations, e.g. visuals displaying the articulators when producing particular sounds, verbal descriptions of how to produce some segments, the phonetic alphabet, kinaesthetic support with the use of the whole body, heads or hands when learning stress, rhythm or intonation, or using sound colour charts.

The Concept of Space in FL Pronunciation Learning

205

2.2. FL pronunciation, emotions, and the need for learning space It is important to underline that since pronunciation is the most emotionally loaded aspect, a most gentle approach is needed when teaching it. Thus, providing the students with space might be a decisive factor, encouraging the learners to move forward or discouraging them from further effort. To allow progress to take place, students’ affective filter must be kept at a low level. This is only possible when the atmosphere in the classroom is positive, when the learners can trust one another and the teacher, when they feel secure, confident and relaxed. Otherwise, defensive reactions may be used that block proper perception and articulation. The sense of space should be also built by giving students the “right to pass” when problems with producing some aspects of TL pronunciation appear, or when they are not emotionally ready and willing to “put on a new FL mask”. It seems that in the case of some learners more time is needed to accept themselves producing the TL. Furthermore, no push from the side of the teacher is acceptable when it comes to the goal, i.e. the level the learners want to reach, or the accent they wish to learn to speak with. As observations show, it is mostly intrinsic and, in particular, “aesthetic” motivation that appears to facilitate progress in FL pronunciation (Baran-Łucarz 2007). Finally, space can be given to the learners by allowing them to join in the preparation of materials, and by taking into account some of their ideas on which types of presentation techniques and activities to use in the classroom (e.g. activities based on authentic materials, such as songs, films, recordings of their FL friends).

2.3. When space needs to be replaced by teacher control It appears that in some aspects of FL pronunciation learning/teaching for many students it is more beneficial if it is the instructor who takes control over their learning process, and makes choices and decisions. Interestingly, the arguments for restricting the learners’ space are delivered by students themselves. One of the areas in which students want to give up their learning space and would rather the teacher took control of concerns error correction and evaluation. In a study carried out among 96 Polish students of a Teacher Training College and English Philology (Baran 2006), the majority of the subjects (76%) acknowledged that they would like the teacher to correct

206

Chapter Eighteen

him/her more often, and to show explicitly what still needs to be worked on and how. Moreover, about 50% of the respondents claimed they do not like to work in pairs or groups and be corrected by their friends, since they believe other learners are just as incompetent as they are. The students were also worried that relying on each other’s help might lead to the formation of bad habits. It was interesting to find out that 85% of the subjects did not mind being corrected by the teacher even in lockstep when other students could hear their errors and see their struggle towards the proper form. The most common way of correcting pronunciation errors is providing the students with a proper model and asking them to imitate the form. The results of the questionnaire (Baran 2006) showed that 82% of the respondents considered this the most effective technique. Those who favoured being provided with less space and autonomy in FL pronunciation learning provided the following justifications; “I am rarely sure if my pronunciation of a sound or word is proper enough”, “I need control of the teacher”, “I am not competent to decide if my pronunciation is good or not”, “I need more guidance” (Baran 2006). The need for teacher help with evaluation of one’s level, progress and with decisions on further goals are also revealed by students during individual meetings with the phonetics instructor. The students also want and expect to hear which accent (British or American) their pronunciation is closer to and, thus, they should try to aim at. It is also common to hear from learners who have had an opportunity to work on their pronunciation in language laboratories that this type of practice is unsatisfactory, due to too little teacher intervention and guidance. Several studies provide us with objective data proving that indeed selfevaluation of pronunciation is difficult for FL learners even at advanced levels. In her study, Nowacka (2006, 307) observed that while “‘good’ students tend to underestimate themselves (…), ‘weaker’ ones have a tendency to overestimate their pronunciation”. Additionally, the researcher explains that only a weak relationship has been found between the subjects’ and teachers’ judgments as to the learners’ strengths and weaknesses. Similar conclusions were drawn by me on the basis of a research whose aim was to identify the features of “excellent”, “very good”, and “very poor” FL pronunciation learners (Baran-Łucarz 2007). It was discovered that very poor subjects have a false picture of their level and self-efficacy. Although their pronunciation was heavily influenced by L1, and many basic words were mispronounced in terms of stress, making them sometimes even unrecognizable and incomprehensible, they still

The Concept of Space in FL Pronunciation Learning

207

claimed that their level was usually “rather good”. Moreover, the subjects representing the lowest level were found to have many false beliefs about pronunciation learning. Interestingly, they claimed that pronunciation is relatively easy to improve, but at the same time they were typical externalizers attributing their low level to outside factors, which they believed they have no or very limited influence on and control of. Consequently, we may conclude that teacher intervention is absolutely necessary to shape and modify opinions students may have about the nature of FL pronunciation learning and attributes of success and failure.

3. The level of Field Independence and space in FL pronunciation learning Whether learners need teacher guidance and control when learning FL pronunciation, or show better results when being given space and freedom seems to depend to a large degree on several individual learner characteristics, e.g. on the extent of Field Independence (FI) a person displays. According to Witkin et al. (1971, 5), people proving to be highly FI find it easy to “‘break up’ an organized field in order to separate out a part of it”, while those showing lower degrees of FI, usually called Field Dependent (FD), reveal more passiveness, i.e. perceive the field “as it is” (ibid) rather than via analysis of its components. In other words, the more FI people are, the easier it is for them to steer their attention to those elements, units, aspects of the TL that are important, though not necessarily salient, and the more effectively can they infer patterns from the input. On the basis of these main characteristics of FI learners we may speculate that they can be given plenty of learning space, and that even in incidental and implicit teaching contexts they can achieve high levels of accuracy in FL, among others in pronunciation. On the other hand, FD learners (those showing little FI) reveal difficulties with organizing structures by themselves, when the learning material is not offered in a tidy and coherent manner, or the instructions lack clarity and precision. They are said to need external sources of reference, to be significantly sensitive to reinforcement, and to show better results when told how to “attack” a problem. Consequently, we may presuppose that providing them with too much space in FL pronunciation learning may be frustrating, highly misleading and, thus, less effective. We can assume that progress of FD students can be facilitated when the teacher shows their errors in pronunciation, offers a lot of controlled operations (imitation) and explains what needs to be

208

Chapter Eighteen

worked on and how. Since they favour the spectator approach, are passive, non-hypothesis-forming and non-exploratory (Nebelkopf and Dreyer 1973), they can be expected to show better results when the teacher explicitly introduces the rules governing the phonetics of the TL. Since the learners are very sociable, emotional, and usually reveal high interpersonal intelligence, it is most important for them to practise pronunciation in a highly positive atmosphere in the company of people they feel good with. It seems that there is empirical evidence for the above-stated premises. In a cross-sectional and, at the same time, longitudinal study (Baran 2003), pronunciation accuracy of 96 Polish young adults was assessed twice. First the students were recorded and evaluated after being deprived of any formal instruction and focus on this FL aspect. Thus, we may say that they were provided with total space and freedom. The teachers were said to intervene only when serious errors causing communication breakdowns were made, and pronunciation practice was limited to occasional repetition. The second recording session took place after a course of phonetics, during which the teacher intervened a lot, using the analyticlinguistic approach. The students were also reminded that progress can only take place if they work systematically on their own and not only in the classroom, and persuaded that how far they go depends to a large extent on them. Learning space was also given to the learners in the following areas: extra task preparation, topics and forms of additional presentations, the pace of work, the right to pass, the right to choose whom to work with, and the choice of accent they wanted to learn to speak with. In the case of the teaching context where students were provided with plenty of space, and no teacher guidance and control in pronunciation learning, the use of appropriate statistics (ANOVA and Least Significant Difference (LSD) test; Į