The Syntax and Semantics of the Perfect Active in Literary Koine Greek

by Robert S. D. Crellin (University of Cambridge)

trps_oc_mockup1_Layout 1The semantics of the Ancient Greek perfect active, morphologically directly inherited from the Proto-Indo-European form of the same name, has long been a matter of scholarly contention. What makes this verb form semantically so interesting is that for most of the duration of Ancient Greek it seems to combine several tense-aspect and diathetical features, namely anteriority, resultativity, stativity, and detransitivisation in causative predicates, which are in many languages conveyed by separate morphological means. To put this in concrete terms, in Ancient Greek you would use a perfect active form to render both English ‘I have made a chair’ and ‘I stand’. This has led to a variety of approaches to analysing the perfect’s semantics, to varying degrees either positing lexicalisation of apparently aberrant readings, or generalising a particular aspect of the semantic behaviour of the perfect, but beyond what the data as a whole can support.

My recent monograph, The Syntax and Semantics of the Perfect Active in Literary Koine Greek, seeks to address the question of the semantic description of the Greek perfect head-on, on the basis of the plentiful but understudied corpus of literary post-Classical Greek (c. 300 BCE – 300 CE). After some theoretical preliminaries, the study first assesses the full range of behaviours of the perfect in this corpus according to verb and predicate type, before building up a semantic description of the perfect from which the perfect’s diverse interactions with different predicate-types can be derived. This is achieved by adopting insights inter alia from Tenny’s Aspectual Interface Hypothesis (Tenny 1994) as well as the generative tradition, to provide an account of the perfect’s semantics which thoroughly integrates its argument structure relations with its tense-aspect denotations. It is demonstrated that it is possible to formulate a semantic description by which one may predict, with a predicate of known semantic properties, how the perfect will be read. Specifically, the perfect derives a homogeneous atelic eventuality from the predicate which it heads.

The simplest case is that in predicates which are themselves homogeneous and atelic, such as states, the perfect may simply derive another state from the predicate:

trépetai katà stenōpòn ēremēkóta
turn.PRS.IND.N-ACT.3SG PTCL down corridor.M.ACC.SG be_quiet.PRF.PART.ACT.M.ACC.SG
‘He turned down a quiet narrow passage…’ (Jos. AJ 19.104, monograph p. 50)

However, since the negative of a state may also be said to have the same event structural properties, a cancelled state is also a valid reading of the perfect, e.g.:

Phregéllai… pólis… tàs pollàs tôn
Phregellai city.F.NOM.SG ART.F.ACC.PL many.F.ACC.PL ART.GEN.PL
árti lekhtheîsōn perioikídas próteron eskhēkuîa
just_now say.AOR.PART.N-ACT.GEN.PL dependent_town.F.ACC.PL previously have.PRF.PART.ACT.F.NOM.SG 
‘Phregellai… a city… which previously had the majority of the places just mentioned as dependent towns.’ (Strabo 5.3.10, monograph p. 236)

Indeed, it may be said more generally that the negative of any eventuality is homogeneous and atelic (see e.g. de Swart 1996: 229 who, following Verkuyl 1993, takes such predicates as states). This allows the perfect to derive such an eventuality from predicates where the subject is not presented as entering into a state, by instantiating the predicate and locating the subject in the homogeneous and atelic post-situation e.g.:

hóper kagṑ nûn pepoíēka
REL.N.ACC.SG and_I.NOM.SG now do.PRF.IND.ACT.1SG
‘… which is exactly what I have now done.’ (Jos. AJ 12.213, monograph p. 17)

The relationship between argument structure and tense-aspect denotation becomes clear in labile change-of-state predicates. Here the perfect active may have resultative or anterior semantics according to its syntax. Read as detransitivising, the perfect is read as resultative, whereas when the predicate is transitive, it reads as an anterior. In each case, the perfect is seen to derive a homogeneous atelic eventuality and predicates this of the subject:

heistḗkei dè… hupestalkṑs tôi skótōi.
set_up.PRF.PST.IND.ACT.3SG PTCL hide.PRF.PART.ACT.M.NOM.SG ART.DAT.M.SG darkness.DAT.M.SG
‘[Claudius] had stood… taking cover in the darkness there.’ (Jos. AJ 19.216, monograph p. 190)
ho Phílippos… hupó tina lóphon
ART.M.NOM.SG PTCL Philip.M.NOM.SG under INDEF.MF.ACC.SG hill.M.ACC.SG
hupestálkei toùs Illurioùs…
hide.PRF.PST.IND.ACT.3SG ART.M.ACC.PL Illyrian.M.ACC.PL
‘But Philip… had sheltered the Illyrians behind a hill…’ (Plb. 5.13.5, monograph p. 190)

The monograph is a development of my PhD thesis, completed with AHRC funding at the Faculty of Classics, Cambridge, in 2012, which looked at the same question. The latter, however, is more empirically focused, using large datasets to generalise about the behaviour of the perfect from the macro-perspective. The present work presents a counterpoint to that project, by taking the micro-perspective, and seeking to establish, by delving into the underlying structure of the Greek language in this period, the semantic basis on which this form’s rather idiosyncratic behaviour might be described.


References
Crellin, Robert. 2012. The Greek Perfect Active System: 200 BC – AD 150. PhD Dissertation. University of Cambridge.

Swart, Henriette D. E. de. 1996. Meaning and Use of not … until. Journal of Semantics (13). 221–263.

Tenny, Carol. 1994. Aspectual Roles and the Syntax-Semantics Interface. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers.

Verkuyl, Henk. 1993. A Theory of Aspectuality: the Interaction between Temporal and Atemporal Structure. Cambridge: CUP.


Robert Crellin’s book, The Syntax and Semantics of the Perfect Active in Literary Koine Greek, is freely accessible to members of the Philological Society via the Wiley Online Library and their membership number. Members are asked to contact one of the Society’s secretaries with any questions in this regard.

Russian Evolution: Russian Reflections (Conference, October 21st, Senate House, London)

by Mary Coghill (Institute of English Studies, University of London)

I am arranging a conference on the work of the Russian Linguist and philologist, Yuri Rozhdestvensky (1926-1999), Professor at Moscow State Lomonosov University.

Russian Evolution: Russian Reflections
A Conference on the work of Yuri Rozhdestvensky: Diachronic Philology and his Contribution to Narratology in poetics

The conference is to be held at The Institute of English Studies, Senate House, University of London 21st October 2017.  Further details and booking facilities are available on the conference website, and also on the poster.

My own conference presentation is entitled:

Rozhdestvensky and the ‘image of the author’ explored with reference to his book General Philology (1996, Moscow)

Keywords: Yuri Rozhdestvensky; V V Vinogradov; Diachronic Philology; Roman Jakobson; Narratology

May I ask philologist bloggers two questions:

  1. Are there any member(s) who are especially interested in Russian philologists/linguisticians, especially Viktor V. Vinogradov and/or Roman Jakobson?
  2. What is ‘diachronic philology’?  Can it be defined as the study of philological development as a process to be studied in its own right?  I think (cautiously) that this is how I would define it.  I am not (so far) aware that it is defined at all.  It seems to me, that there are those who are interested in languages other than their native one and are engaged in comparative philology; those who study how a particular language alters over time and are engaged in a historical study; but who studies philology itself as a theoretical process – not as a study of the individual components of philology, as for example the history of the book – but as a quest for a theory of the process of the development of culture?

I would welcome any answers to the above and please do come to the conference; you can contact me at Mary.Coghill[at]sas.ac.uk .

What is language revitalization about? Some insights from Provence

by James Costa (Sorbonne Nouvelle / UMR LACITO (CNRS), Paris)

Should you find yourself in Provence this summer, you might wonder why some villages have bilingual signs at the entrance. Your surprise would be forgiven, since you are unlikely to have heard anything but French in most places, and likely a lot of English as you approach the Mediterranean. But if you listen more closely, observe more closely, you might come across a world that is fast vanishing, but that is still present. You might stumble upon a concert in a language that you cannot identify, or wonder why some street names don’t sound French. You might even hear people speak Occitan—for this is what it is, a language also known as Provençal, one which many locals will refer to as “Patois” (a derogatory term in France to refer to anything other than French traditionally spoken in the country).

provençal
Bilingual sign (French, Provençal)

This sort of experience might happen to you in Provence, but not only. Across the European Union, several million people speak a language that is not the official language of the state they live in. Across Europe, there are language advocates who defend and promote the right to speak one’s language. This struggle for language rights also extends to Latin America, North America, Australia, and many other places. This, many scholars assert, is a consequence of globalization—a backlash against uniformity if you like. A way of being oneself, of finding meaning locally in a world that seems to be getting smaller. In my recent book, Revitalising Language in Provence: A Critical Approach, I argue otherwise. Those movements are not a reaction to globalization—they are, on the contrary, a way of taking part in this process, on the very terms defined by those who define what globalization is (and not on their own terms, as Leena Huss [2008, 133] asserts).

But let’s start from the beginning. This book focuses on Provence, home to what is perhaps the earliest language reclamation movement, or at least one of the earliest. Poets had already started writing texts in defense of Gascon, Provençal or Languedocien (all dialects of what most scholars of Romance linguistics view as Occitan) back in the 16th and 17th centuries. This is perhaps a consequence of an increasingly aggressive move to promote French in all administrative domains at the expense of Latin and Occitan, which had been in use for official usage for centuries in what is now Southern France. But it was after the French Revolution Terror government (after 1793) sought to eradicate the “patois” that a genuine interest was born in various parts of France, resulting in the south in a rediscovery of the poetry of Medieval Troubadours and in a scholarly interest in the history of Provence and Languedoc before their annexation to France. It wasn’t, however, before the 1850s that an organized language-based movement was formed, under the aegis of poets such as Frederic Mistral or Joseph Roumanille.

The Felibrige was the name they gave to their movement, a name whose origin remains mysterious. The Felibres sought to revive the Provençal or Occitan language (which was still almost universally spoken in all of Southern France) through poetry and literature. And indeed, Mistral published a series of long, epic poems that were hailed across Europe as monuments of literature. Mirèio is probably his most well known poem, a love story set in the Crau region of Provence and an allegory of the language revival movement. Mirèio was acclaimed in Paris as a chef d’æuvre, and was prefaced by Lamartine.

I recount parts of the history of the movement in the book but for this blog post, suffice it to say that while successful on a literary level, it never succeeded in political terms. Provençal was long banned in education, and despite a strong Occitan movement throughout the 20th century, the use of Provençal continued (and continues) to decline. But the story I tell in this book isn’t the story of the language movement. Instead, following a two-year ethnographic study in Provence, I ask why the movement was based on language at all, like so many others afterwards—but, crucially, none before, or at least none before the 1840s.  Continue reading “What is language revitalization about? Some insights from Provence”

Big and small data in ancient languages

by Nicholas Zair (University of Cambridge)

Back in November I gave a talk at the Society’s round table on ‘Sources of evidence for linguistic analysis’ on ‘Big and small data in ancient languages’. Here I’m going to focus on one of the case studies I considered under the heading of ‘small data’, which is based on an article that I and Katherine McDonald and I have written (more details below) about a particular document from ancient Italy known as the Tabula Bantina.

tabula_bantina

It comes from Bantia, modern day Banzi in Basilicata and is written in Oscan, a language which was spoken in Southern Italy in the second half of the first millennium BC, including in Pompeii prior to a switch to speaking Latin towards the end of that period. Since Oscan did not survive as a spoken language, we know it almost entirely from inscriptions written on non-perishable materials such as stone, metal and clay. There aren’t very many of these inscriptions: perhaps a few hundred, depending on definitions (for instance, do you include control marks consisting of a single letter?). We are lucky that Oscan is an Indo-European language, and, along with a number of other languages from ancient Italy, quite closely related to Latin, so we can make good headway with it. Nonetheless, our knowledge of Oscan and its speakers is fairly limited: it is certainly a language that comes under the heading of ‘small data’.

 

iron_age_italy

One of the ways scholars have addressed the problem of so-called corpus languages like Oscan, and even better-attested but still limited ones like Latin has been to combine as many relevant sources of information, from ancient historians to the insights of modern sociolinguistic theory as a way of squeezing as much information from what we have – and trying to fill in the blanks where information is lacking. This has been a huge success, but this approach can also be dangerous, especially when it comes to studying language death. Given that we know a language will die out in the end, it is very tempting to see every piece of evidence as a staging post in the process, and try to fit it into our narrative of language death. Often this provides very plausible histories, but we must remember that, while in hindsight history can look teleological, things are rarely so clear at the time.

The Tabula Bantina is a bronze tablet with a Latin law on one side and an Oscan law on the other side. It is generally agreed that the Latin text was written before the Oscan one, but the Oscan is not a translation of the Latin: the writer of the Oscan text simply used the conveniently blank side of the tablet to write the new material on. The striking things about the Oscan text are that it is written in the Latin alphabet, and there are lots of mistakes. It also strongly resembles Latin legal language. The date of this side is probably between about 100-90 BC, just before Rome’s ‘allies’, which is to say conquered peoples and cities in Italy, rose up against it in a rebellion generally known as the Social War. Continue reading “Big and small data in ancient languages”

The Morphological-to-Analytic Causative Continuum in Hausa: New Insights and Analyses in a Typological Perspective

by Philip J. Jaggar (School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London)

Over the last few decades, linguists have devoted considerable attention to both homogeneity and variation in the expression of causal events across languages. However, most studies, whether typological or language-specific, have focused on the category of morphologically overt (e.g., ‘lie/lay X down’) causatives, to the relative neglect of complex periphrastic (e.g., ‘get X to lie down’) formations.

The present study addresses this imbalance by elucidating a wide spectrum of causative expressions in Hausa (Chadic/Afroasiatic), supported by a strong cross-linguistic perspective. In line with contemporary approaches located within a general typology of causation, the analysis invokes the widely-accepted dichotomy between direct and indirect causative constructions. Direct causation associates with morphological causatives, indirect causation with periphrastic expressions—compare morphological ‘I lay X down’ (direct, with no intermediary) with periphrastic ‘I got X to lie down’ (indirect, where X also functions as an intervening actor/cause).

Hausa uses an indirect periphrastic causative usually formed with sâa ‘cause’ (lit. ‘put’) as the higher causal verb, e.g., nâs taa sâa yaaròn yaa kwântaa ‘the nurse got the boy to lie down’ (= intransitive kwântaa ‘lie down’). Direct morphological causatives, in contrast, associate with a specific derivational formation, known as “Grade 5” (Parsons 1960/61), e.g., nâs zaa tà kwantar̃ dà yaaròn ‘the nurse will lay the boy down’.

The monograph systematically explores, for the first time in an African language to our knowledge, the key design-features that distinguish the two mechanisms, in addition to demonstrating that Hausa periphrastic causatives can also differ from each other, e.g., in implicational strength, depending on the modal (TAM) properties of the lower clause. In so doing, it provides a rare account of how the two types are used to describe pragmatically different causal events and participant roles.


Jaggar, Philip J. (2017) The Morphological-to-Analytic Causative Continuum in Hausa: New Insights and Analyses in a Typological Perspective. (Abhandlungen für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, Band 109). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.
Available from 1 June 2017.

Latin in Medieval Britain

by Richard K. Ashdowne (University of Oxford; Honorary Membership Secretary, PhilSoc)

Of the many languages in use in Britain in the middle ages, Latin is arguably the best attested and yet most overlooked. Not the native language of any of its users and employed especially—though certainly not exclusively—in written functions, Latin has tended to be the elephant in the room despite its indisputable importance for its users and their societies.

After the departure of the Roman legions from Britain, Latin’s continued use was by no means assured, but there is a continuous train of use down to the time of the Tudors and beyond. Over more than a thousand years British medieval Latin was employed for all manner of functions from accountancy to zoology.

In this new collection of papers, arising from the conference held to celebrate the completion in print of the Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources, the place of Latin in medieval Britain is examined from a variety of historical, cultural and linguistic perspectives and in relation to some of its many different contexts.

In the first part, David Howlett, Neil Wright, Wendy Childs and Robert Swanson look successively at the start of the Anglo-Latin tradition, the twelfth-century renaissance, the use of Latin in historiography and record-keeping in the fourteenth century, and the continued use of Latin in the medieval tradition into the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The vitality of the language over the ages and its users’ constant reinvention of its role emerge as central themes.

In the second part, attention is directed to particular fields, namely law (Paul Brand), musical theory (Leofranc Holford-Strevens), the church (Carolinne White) and science (Charles Burnett), as examples of how the Latin language was used and adapted to its roles. That it was being employed in historical, social, cultural and linguistic settings quite different from its ancient ancestor had important consequences. It meant that, for instance, Latin was frequently in need of new terminology for the contemporary world, especially in some of these more technical areas. Borrowing, calquing and native word-formation processes were all ways of meeting this need, reflecting the inherent contact between Latin and its users’ native vernacular languages.

In the third and final part, these linguistic contacts become the central focus in chapters examining the relationship between Welsh and Latin (Paul Russell), the relationship between Latin and English (Richard Sharpe), the development of a mixed-language code (Laura Wright), the relationship of Germanic, Anglo-Norman French and Latin (David Trotter), and the relationship between English and Latin (Philip Durkin and Samantha Schad). The final chapter, by David Howlett, ties in with some of the lexicographical questions raised by Sharpe, Trotter, and Durkin and Schad, and looks back at the process of preparing the Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources.

Latin in Medieval Britain is edited by Richard Ashdowne and Carolinne White and  published by the British Academy in association with OUP. Many of the contributors are members of the Society and current or former members of Council.


Further information, including abstracts of all the chapters, can be found on the DMLBS blog and the book can be obtained directly from OUP and all good booksellers.

One Language, Two Grammars: the ‘Plight’ of Classical Armenian

by Robin Meyer (University of Oxford; Hon. Secretary for Student Associate Members)

Armenian is one of those Indo-European languages that very rarely gets much attention from students of historical linguistics or comparative philology; most frequently, it crops up only in discussions of the augment, laryngeals, and the Glottalic Theory. This, alas, is unlikely to change.
Yet, Armenian can serve as an interesting case study for a number of fields within linguistics, not least language contact and corpus linguistics. With these two topics in mind, allow me to introduce you to Armenian – albeit in extreme brevity –, and to illustrate one of its more curious traits: its two grammars.

Map_Armenia_BCE
Map of Armenia in the 2nd and 1st centuries BCE
An exceedingly short introduction: Iranian, Greek, and the Armenian language(s)

Armenian, attested in its Classical form (called գրաբար |grabar|) since the 5th century CE, is a language with a couple of twists. Until a ground-breaking paper by Heinrich Hübschmann (1875), Armenian was thought to belong to the Iranian language family. In fact, Armenian is most closely related to Greek – and even that not all that closely (Clackson 1994). For the most part, this relationship is not immediately obvious at the surface, particularly if compared to the similarities between, for instance, Vedic and Old Avestan, or Latin and Oscan.
The reason for its historical allocation to the Iranian family lies in the inordinate amount of Iranian loan words and calques, both lexical and phraseological, in Armenian. These are mostly taken from Parthian (North West Middle Iranian; Meillet 1911–12, Schmitt 1983). Less obviously, even certain Iranian syntactic structures and patterns have been replicated (Meyer 2013, 2016). These borrowings are, without doubt, owed to long-lasting contact between Armenian and Parthian speakers. Since the 5th century BCE, Armenia was under Iranian rule in one form or another: Achaemenid, Artaxiad, Arsacid Parthian, and later Sasanian Persian. For the most part, an Armenian king of Iranian origin ruled as primus inter pares among other Armenian and Iranian noble families. The history and ethnic composition of Armenia is, of course, far more complex than can be described in one sentence; excellent summaries can be found in Hovannisian (1997).

So far, so good. Continue reading “One Language, Two Grammars: the ‘Plight’ of Classical Armenian”