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A COURSE IN THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR

for advanced BA studies


Topics:
1. How to approximate to the ideal of idiomatic English. p. 1 (5)
2. What do we mean by grammar. ... 7 (11)
3. Morphology as an independent part of language analysis 14 (25)
4. Place of syntax in linguistic studies. 26 (35)
5. Inflectional and derivational morphology. .. 40 (49)
6. Idiomatic status of compounds 51 (64)
7. Omnipotence of context. ... 68 (74)
8. Some less known grammatical categories in practice. .. 76 (80)
9. Competition of infinitive and gerund.. 83 (87)
10. Functional Sentence Perspective... 89 (93)

[1]
HOW TO APPROXIMATE TO THE IDEAL OF IDIOMATIC ENLISH.

The present talk is addressed to undergraduates of English after all, mainly to novices,
and it is based mostly on my own teaching experience. Nevertheless, trying to be professional
equally enough, let me say, too, that I have always been an advocate of what is now referred
to as cognitive method. Working mostly with adults I understand that their power of imitation
is decreased a great deal; on the other hand, however, their advantage is that their mind is able
to arrive at broad generalisations and abstractions. It is clear enough that adult learners cannot
well be exposed to the natural method, simply because they would be pushed into the
position of an infant, namely, into the situation they would find rather queer and hardly
fruitful.

There is one more point I must elucidate just at the beginning the meaning of
idiomatic as this appears in the title of todays talk. Briefly, what I have in mind here is not
idiomaticity in the narrow sense of the term, ie. one operating primarily on the lexical level,
which learners will understand generally as mastering idiomatic expressions, such as How
dyou do; its a piece of cake; to kick the bucket; rather the broader sense of the term
idiomaticity is observed, in belief that idiomaticity is a property making the speech be natural
and acceptable enough for native speakers; and as such it travels, as it were, over and above
all strata of the language system. Let us admit, in this context at least, that learners of English
take on either the British or the American variety of English, imitating the accent of their
teachers. Yet, in reality, it is hardly one or the other variety that they master. In the ordinary
classroom instruction, students are exposed to Englishes of more than one teacher, in live
and play-back, and, hopefully, they follow TV and radio English-spoken programmes. On the
one hand, this is a very positive phenomenon, mainly from the viewpoint of skill of
understanding. On the other hand, however, learners own performances seem to remain
mostly a blend of those expected native varieties, tinged heavily with the phonological,
syntactical and even lexical systems of their mother tongue. In this sense, their performances
are not idiomatic, and it is our task to strive for the ideal.

Nowadays we, Europeans, find ourselves in a situation when our use of the English
language as lingua franca in the traditional sense would be a reflection of slightly degrading

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approach to it. Even if we respect English voluntarily as a means of international
communication in mutual cooperation between independent countries, my conviction is that
we should cherish it as a living language (and not as a mere carrier of communication of the
type of Latin or perhaps Esperanto). Namely, English has for long centuries been the mother
tongue of peoples who have their social and cultural existence. Of course, it would be an
attractive idea to refer to English as a national language, using the attribute which for many
nations is of great significance. However, I have to respect the fact that for a vast majority of
English language users the attribute national will be unacceptable, or at least controversial
due to certain moot points; and for good measure, I must admit another fact, namely, English
has always been an aggregate of dialects rather than one uniform, standardised language, of
the fate of which learned men in the past feared and did a mammoth piece of work in the field
of its fixation and cultivation. Let us only hope that presently, too, all educated English
speakers will be heedful of that heritage and that it will never come true what a phonetician
once proclaimed, namely, that people would be able to communicate in English through its
written form only. We all are optimists, of course; nevertheless

There are about 400 million people speaking English as their native language, and
hundreds of millions more using English as their genuine lingua franca. If we may trust
statistics, another 400 million of learners have achieved a recognisable level of English
proficiency. And one more figure, to realise the facts by those who prefer British English: it is
estimated that probably not more than one English-speaking person in seven lives in Britain! I
am afraid that the mass of non-native speakers of English is powerful enough to represent a
potential danger of certain regressive influence upon the native English. Were it not for so
extensive migration and contacts about the world, this potential danger would only be a matter
of speculation; yet with the world becoming smaller and smaller, we cannot be definitely
certain that it is only foreigners who refine their English by learning from native speakers.
Everybody will very probably be inclined to see the relatively huge number of English
loanwords in respective European languages and thus to judge the situation as a one-way
road; however, I dare to argue that native speakers of English, too, may adopt, often
subconsciously, certain features of other languages, features which creep, as it were, into their
English. Some of you may object that mutual influencing of languages has been a
commonplace and that English has always been extremely open to borrowings; nevertheless,
the current and envisaged situation is not altogether parallel to that of the past hundreds of
years. Into the bargain, the prestige of what is referred to as R.P. (and kindred denominations)
seems to have been attenuated recently, and the American English is more liberal now than
ever before., This, of course, works for driving force in the process we call language change,
the process that we must be not only aware of but also of certain assistance to. Ways of
lending the assistance are not the topic to discuss today; however, you will hopefully get some
impetus from the following.

Let me return to the defence of the concept living language, using the attribute that is
less specific than national but which reflects the fact that the language is actually spoken by
existing socially and culturally defined communities. This is what foreign learners of English,
and their teachers, too, should observe unless they do not mind degrading English to a kind
of dehumanised code of communication. It cannot be an excuse to say that some will need
only to read in English, that others will do with making themselves understood in their
professional talks namely, we, English philologists, should not fall back on the reference to
the pragmatic side of the learners motivation only. It is true, indeed, that the knowledge of a
foreign language makes it possible for its speakers to acquire an insight into the culture and
the way of life of the given community and so also to enrich their own personalities. Thus

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English in the mouths of non-native users should be something more than a means of pure
communication; it is expected to become a means of understanding, a means of
comprehending of everything that has constituted English-speaking peoples. Simply, the
English language employed by its foreign speakers should be regarded quite consciously as a
living language. I claim that users of English must be as much English by nature as possible;
then if they think and act as the native speakers do, they will use the language that reflects the
activity. This is not a straightforward parallel, though; we would be too nave to claim for a
foreigner to speak a genuine native English variety, if he or she is taught as adult and typically
in classroom conditions. Thus on the one hand, realising that I shall hardly achieve the accent
and the level of fluency of native speakers brings about a load off my mind, but, on the other
hand, wishing to approximate to this stage will make me try hard. The starting point has just
been shown; yet more information is certainly expected.

Those who are familiar with fundamentals of psychology will know that in the above
context we speak of identification. To put the matter brief, learners identify themselves with a
prototype of respective native English-speaking people. However, a few questions arise here,
among others also the following: What is the content proper of identification? How does
identification actually advance? And of which native English-speaking people is the learner
expected to make a prototype if s/he has had three teachers, or only one, and all of them were
non-natives! Let us suppose that the situation is not as bad as that. Besides, nowadays learners
are surrounded with the English language at every pace; it is up to them to make a good
choice, deliberately. And here I am working towards my point of explanation.

I would not like to be accused of determinism1, the less so that this concept is hardly
tenable in language systems. Nevertheless, we will not deny the fact that the idea of different
worlds in which different communities live may be fairly attractive. E. Sapir (1949: 160 ff.)
remarked that the world was not the same world only perhaps being described or labelled in
different ways in different languages, and B. Whorf (1956: 214 ff.) put his idea more
explicitly, in a positive sense, claiming that native English speakers did not have the same
picture of the universe as the speakers of other languages. This thesis must not be understood
too narrowly or too strictly, though; namely, speakers of two languages are not entirely
different rather the speaker of L1 has a picture of the universe that can be related in some
way to the picture which the speaker of L2 created. That this interpretation stands closer to
reality can easily be verified: we are able to investigate other languages than our own idiom,
and we can translate from one language to another.

My concept of world is rendered in a more general way; it is not a mere synonym to


universe. Of course, it does include the meaning of universe, naturally, apparently, and
logically. Yet it makes the concept extended by all the characteristics that we can ever
imagine of the life, history, culture, etc. Of course, language, too, belongs to the concept of
world as its intrinsic phenomenon. Hence I assume that worlds understood like that are by
no means entirely different, which holds not only in the historical perspective; viewed also
synchronically it applies that the worlds overlap, as it were. Put it in another way around,
people live only partially in different worlds; and still in another way, people of different
languages live partially in the same world and partially in different worlds. Thus foreign
learners of English appear to have much in common with the worlds of the British, or the
Americans, or the Australians, etc. But we want them to become identified with the other-

1
Determinism as a philosophical theory negates the role of mans free will; in the opinion of determinists,
human actions are controlled by antecedent causes.

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than-their world, namely, with the British (or another) world in the first place. Luckily
enough, the learners world and that of speakers of L2 (be it any variety of English) do not
differ absolutely, although beginning learners may find the overlapping area relatively small.
Anyway, even these modest findings will sound optimistic. The claimed process of
identification begins as understanding the world, which in case of the learners own world is
taken for granted. But can we ever understand fully the world of L2 speakers? It would
certainly be rather difficult and impracticable to insist on a full absorption of the other world;
but I am convinced that understanding of the other world IS possible, and even necessary.
Anyone trying to master a foreign language must reach at least a fair level of understanding of
the respective world. As we know well, from the beginning it is teachers who act as
mediators. Then, however, learners themselves are expected to feel the need of understanding;
if they are willing to, they find themselves more and more identified with the new world. We
can imagine the whole process of identification as a cline: it starts practically as the BASIC
yet objective understanding of the world; then it proceeds to the FAIR understanding, and
finally it aims at ABSORPTION. On this spot I have to stress the word aim as I made it
clear enough here above, absorption as full identification is hardly possible in the conditions
that most learners encounter. Needless to say, however, that the deeper identification, the
easier access to the language. Learners must also be prepared to appreciate the encounters of
their own world and that of the target language. Here I would even claim that this is an
inevitable (if not the first) step in the process of acquiring a foreign language. Only then, as
learners move along the cline of identification, will their increasing knowledge of L2 help
them understand better both the new world and their own. Perhaps in this, expressed
succinctly, we can see the role of knowledge of foreign languages as a part of general
education. Last but not least, this means, too, that persons showing good command of a
foreign language will have a better chance to be accepted by the respective community.

How does all that was put forth here above in general work for English as a target
language? It seems that varieties of English belong to different worlds, and everybody would
have nothing against the point. Yet on the other hand, the worlds have much in common; in
other words, the English-speaking worlds overlap, more than we are inclined to admit.
Learners are sometimes misled by reading about evident lexical and phonetic differences
which DO exist, objectively enough, between the English varieties, such as trousers / pants or
[kl ] / [kl] class. But these differences should not make us think of American
English as a language of its own at least I myself do not see any good reason for treating it
so. Here lies the crucial point for teachers: the overlapping worlds make it possible for any
currently living variety of English to be accepted by the learner. The only duty for him/her is
to select between them. We can only marvel at the fact that the proposed cline of
identification (which can be demonstrated, if needed, in a form of horn) runs through the
overlapping part of the two worlds. I am convinced that it is a fairly large area, indeed, and
thus a fairly long period for the learner to go across. As shown above already, it holds that the
deeper the identification is, the easier access to the ideal we are offered. Put another way
around, the degree of approximation to the ideal is proportionate to the degree of
identification of the foreign learner with the overlapping area of the English-speaking worlds.
Let me repeat, too, that in normal conditions, in which most learners will find themselves,
bilingualism in a sense of a native-like command of English can hardly be achieved. In any
case, however, I believe that it IS possible to master English which will be acceptable for any
native ear, namely, which will be truly idiomatic.

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GNOTHI SEAUTON
(How to approximate to the ideal of idiomatic English.)

How barbarously we yet write and speak. I am desirous, if it were possible, that we might all write with the
same certainty of words, and purity of phrase, to which the Italians first arrived, and after them the French
(J. Dryden)
Suffer not our Shakespeare, and our Milton to become two or three centuries hence what Chaucer is at present,
the study only of a few poring antiquarians, and in an age or two more the victims of bookworms. (T. Sheridan)

My purpose was to admit no testimony of living authors, that I might not be misled by partiality, and that none
of my contemporaries might have reason to complain. I have studiously endeavoured to collect examples and
authorities from the writers before the Restauration, whose works I regard as the wells of English undefiled, as
the pure sources of genuine diction. (Dr. S. Johnson)

Identification: Learners are hoped to identify themselves with a prototype of respective


natives.
Determinism:
Sapir: The world is not the same world only perhaps being described or labeled in
different ways in different languages
Whorf: Native speakers do not have the same picture of the universe as the speakers of other
languages
 Speakers of L1 are likely to have a picture of the universe that can be related in some way
to the picture which speakers of L2 have created.

BASIC >> FAIR >>> ABSORPTION

- the deeper identification, the easier access to the language;

- increasing knowledge of L2 help understand better both the new world and ones own;
- persons showing good command of a foreign language will have a better chance to be
accepted by the respective community.

The degree of approximation to the ideal is proportionate to the degree of identification of


the foreign learner with the overlapping area of the English-speaking worlds.

References:

Sapir, E. (1949): The status of linguistics as a science. In Selected writings of Edward Sapir
in language culture and personality, ed. G. Mandelbaum. Berkeley & Los
Angeles: University of California Press.

Whorf, B.L. (1956): Language, thought and reality: selected writings of Benjamin Lee Whorf,
ed. J. B. Carroll. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press.

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Role of the speaker;
Economy and logic of English;
Marked-ness;
Tackling the realities of the outside world.

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[2]
WHAT DO WE MEAN BY GRAMMAR?

It is not only in the field of linguistics but also beyond that people use words the meanings of
which they cannot explain properly, and yet they seem to understand one another. Only
occasionally is the abuse of words a ground of misunderstanding, or perhaps amusement. My
little idea today is one that aims at an attempt to explain how we, novices in linguistics, or
philology, employ and understand terms and notions which we utter frequently, taking them
for granted. Before we focus on grammar, a few words should be spent on linguistics. We
can claim that linguistics deals with language, i.e. a means of human communication. (I say
language, not a language, or languages being a linguist does not necessarily mean that
you speak several languages fluently; having mastered one language only is not enough,
though.) Linguistics is considered to be a serious field of research, the results of which as a
theory are believed to be applied in human activities. Following its history you will see that it
is a relatively new discipline; although the interest in human speech reaches back to the times
of centuries or even millennia ago. Previously, however, thoughts and ideas on language were
the domain of philosophers and logicians. And because linguistics was to be an independent
field of human concern, it required an object of studies, and hence also methods, perhaps
specific ones, to pursue the object. It is relatively recently, just at the beginning of the 20th
century when Prof. Mathesius had the following to say:Linguists never attempted to
determine the nature of the object it was studying, and without this elementary operation a
science cannot develop an appropriate method.

A mammoth piece of work has been done since. It is true, however, that pure
linguistics is the concern of rather a small number of scholars; rather such pursuits are made
that overlap linguistics and sociology, psychology, neurology, and perhaps other disciplines.
[See the wheel-chart.] Yet we do not ignore traditional disciplines of linguistic studies, such
as phonetics (and phonology), morphology, syntax, and semantics. (Please do not worry that
morphology does not appear in our chart. I will explain the issue later, also in Topic Three.)
As you can see, so-called computational linguistics is something that has come to the fore
recently; and applied linguistics is what practitioners are familiar with, say, teachers of
languages, translators and interpreters. Finally, cross-linguistic studies, too, have brought
about much information on the relation of language and its users, both individually and in
communities. Here belong sociolinguistics, psycho-linguistics and neuro-linguistics),
pragma-linguistics, anthropological linguistics.
Meanings of the latter disciplines are self-explainable; as for the former, namely, strata (or layers) of
language analysis, their domains can be defined very briefly like this:
Phonetics physical realization of speech;
Syntax interrelation of sentence members (words);
Semantics language means as related to the world reality;
Pragmatics language means as related to language users.

The teacher, too, is not only a sort of Sprachmeister; he is expected to be a competent


linguist, showing a good level of knowledge of cultural background. In doing his practice he
makes full use of his language competence, relying on teaching materials, and transforming
his knowledge into strategies and tactics of methodology. As Fries once demanded: The
most effective materials are those that are based upon a scientific description of the language
to be learned, carefully compared with a parallel description of the native language of the
learner. I fully agree that the comparative, or better: contrastive approach will shed more
light upon the foreign language we study.

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I am sorry to have dropped a few words before the topic promised. I meant to say that
we, teachers, have to observe the truly scientific approach to language, we have to be punctual
in applying terms and notions, namely, in using them in the unambiguous way, one that does
not allow for misunderstandings.

Well, WHAT IS GRAMMAR? The word grammar is akin to the Greek grammata, which
meant simply letters, and grammatikos were those who mastered techne grammatike,
namely, those who could read and write. Now laymen pronounce the word grammar very
often, saying, for instance, The Czech grammar is difficult, or I hate learning grammar, I
would rather train speaking. OK, lets start with this: Grammar provides rules by which
words change their forms and are combined into sentences. As you will guess easily,
Grammar is what combines morphology and syntax, the former concerning word forms,
and the latter word order within the sentence. (I will say much more about their domains in
the following talks.) By the way, some linguists distinguish between f o r m a l grammar and c
o m m u n i c a t i v e grammar. (This distinction is based, in principle, on the well-known
triangular representation of the interrelation between form, meaning, and function.) Briefly,
the formal grammar deals with rules, structures, categories, and its central units are phrase,
clause, and sentence; while the communicative grammar employs such terms as utterance,
discourse (as a higher unit), and it works with phenomena such as coherence, cohesion, etc. If
it flashes across your mind that these terms draw on stylistics, you are right. As elsewhere in
linguistics, language is a miraculous phenomenon in which tout se tient (=everything is
interrelated, or: tied together), as Prof. Entwistle once said. Nevertheless, lets have two
simple examples to illustrate what we mean by the form-function distinction:

1. declarative (affirmative) sentences >> express statement


interrogative >> question
imperative >> command

2. yes/no questions >> hesitation, inconclusiveness, doubt, uncertainty, appeal


subordinate clauses

Frequently, too, you can come across the word grammar being used together with certain
attributes. They are not difficult to understand, of course; lets remind some of them briefly:
For centuries scholars wrote grammars which contained obligatory rules for socially
correct use of the respective language. Such grammars are called prescriptive or normative,
and if applied in teaching foreign languages they are sometimes referred to as pedagogical.
As the attributes say, language users are expected to follow certain definite norms if they wish
to speak and write correctly. (At present a good example of prescriptive grammar is Pravidla
eskho pravopisu. English grammars are far less normative, even those pedagogical, since
much of the issues is based on what we call usage.)
On the other hand, we come across grammars which only describe word and sentence
constructions, without providing evaluative judgments. These are called, expectedly,
descriptive. Most of, say, academic grammar books on English you are advised to consult
are descriptive. Among them the recommended ones are Sir Quirks A Grammar of
Contemporary English, and Dukovs Mluvnice souasn anglitiny na pozad etiny, to
mention at least one publication edited by our scholar. And their abridged editions, offering
description as comprehensive as possible are called reference grammars.
NOTE: I am not as nave as to urge you to read the original descriptive grammar books at full.
However, reference grammars should be on shelves of every linguist, also of the one who claims to be a
practitioner.

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Also so-called theoretical grammar is sometimes referred to. Here what we mean to
say is the approach which goes beyond the study of individual languages, aiming to determine
what constructs are needed in order to do any kind of grammatical analysis. As a mater of
fact, theoretical grammar tries to establish linguistic universals.
And finally, in case you come across the traditional grammar, mind that it does not
say anything more but before the advent of scientific linguistics, namely, before the
linguistics became a discipline of its own.

Lets return now to the major topic, namely, what grammar is, or, how to understand
grammar as a part of language structure. So far we could do with saying that grammar
provides rules by which words change their forms and are combined into sentences. I am
convinced that this definition, as it were, is comprehensible enough to anybody. Nevertheless,
there are also other explanations, or definitions, of grammar. Some are rather brief, very
general ones, for instance: Grammar is the study of sentence structure. Others seem to make
grammar appear like a sort of technical vehicle, one that is designed to identify certain units in
the text and then to analyze the patterns into which these units fall. The former seems to
remind us of what is traditionally called syntax, while the latter emphasizes the side of the
traditional morphology. To be frank, in spite of the technical aspect which this approach
suggests, grammar of this type touches also semantics, analyzing relationships of meaning
that these patterns convey.
NOTE: It is advisable to distinguish between lexical meaning and grammatical meaning.

And finally, one of the original definitions of grammar is Chomskys: He claimed that
grammar is a device of some sort for producing the sentences of the language under
analysis. As you may know, he believed that by means of certain rules applied in a definite
order it was possible to generate an unlimited number of sentences.

In any case, grammar is something that we cannot ignore or say it is of minor


importance. Grammar represents a part of language structure, together with phonology and
semantics. [See charts.] And because language works as a balanced system, some scholars
employ the notion of grammar fairly widely, using it as a common label to cover phonology,
syntax and semantics. It is true, too, that others prefer to deal with phonology as an
independent part of language structure, and still others add morphology to the field of
language analysis. You may find it interesting, too, that those who disregard morphology as
an independent part will do with syntax only, claiming that everything that is supposed to be
issues of morphology can be easily explained in terms of syntax. On the other hand, there are
some who believed in morphology being dissolved in the area of phonology. They showed,
successfully enough, all points of contact between the two disciplines in the field of so-called
morphonology. (The easiest, and simplest example to illustrate is the suffix s which shows
itself on the phonic level as allophonic, i.e. variant [s] or [z].)

We can see that scholars have not taken a unanimous position in regarding the place of
grammar in the structure of language. Once I tried to depict the places and interrelations of
respective linguistic disciplines in a chart, or diagram, being in fact inspired by Prof. Erharts
attempt; having done my best I arrived at what you can see in the handout, and then I sort of
failed: namely, I would need a three-dimensional picture, rather than dimensional one, in
order to illustrate convincingly the importance and the interplay of all the disciplines
involved.
Finally, what we should bear in mind is the following: Grammar is a deep-rooted
notion, which cannot at all be ignored in modern linguistics. As for its position, or place in the
language structure, we have to decide about it by ourselves. Thus in my opinion grammar

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involves both morphology and syntax, and although I do not count phonology and
semantics as its integral co-parts, it is closely connected with these. And to speak in lay terms,
it is grammar that shows us the way of generating proper sentences in the language. This
statement does not go counter the fact that in every language there are phrases which are
ungrammatical, namely, idiomatic (e.g. by and large; it is me).

Enough has been said on the notion, or term grammar. We will return to many issues involved in
follow-up talks, mainly: The Place of Syntax; Inflectional and/or Derivational Morphology. You will not find
me a conceited guy, I hope, if I recommend to you to revise some fundamentals on linguistics from my textbook
entitled English Linguistics for Novices.
-o0o-

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WHAT DO WE MEAN BY GRAMMAR?
(A handout)

Linguists never attempted to determine the nature of the object it was studying, and without
this elementary operation a science cannot develop an appropriate method. [Mathesius]

Language disciplines and beyond:

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Phonetics physical realization of speech;
Syntax interrelation of sentence members (words);
Semantics language means as related to the world reality;
Pragmatics language means as related to language users.

The most effective materials are those that are based upon a scientific description of the
language to be learned, carefully compared with a parallel description of the native language
of the learner.[Fries]

Grammar provides rules by which words change their forms and are combined into
sentences.
Grammar = morphology + syntax
grammar >> formal communicative
rules, structures, categories utterance, discourse
phrase, clause, and sentence coherence, cohesion, etc.

tout se tient [Entwistle]

Examples: declarative (affirmative) sentences >> express statement


interrogative >> question
imperative >> command

yes/no questions >> hesitation, inconclusiveness, doubt, uncertainty,


subordinate clauses

Types of grammar: prescriptive (normative)


pedagogical
descriptive > reference
theoretical
traditional

Grammar provides rules by which words change their forms and are combined into sentences.

Grammar is the study of sentence structure.

Grammar is a technical vehicle.

Grammar is a device of some sort for producing the sentences of the language under analysis.
[N. Chomsky]

language structure grammar

phonology grammar semantics phonology syntax semantics


morphonology

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Linguistic disciplines:

Recommended readings:
R.Quirk et al.: A Grammar of Contemporary English. Longman: London 1972.
L. Dukov: Mluvnice souasn anglitiny na pozad etiny. Academia: Praha 1988.

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[3]
MORPHOLOGY AS AN INDEPENDENT PART OF LANGUAGE ANALYSIS.

1. Place of morphology

The first man to ever coin the word morphology was J.W.Goethe, his die
Morphologie being the equivalent of the German Formenlehre. As is easily understood,
this fairly modern scholarly term is based on the Greek , the meaning of which can be
translated as form; consequently, morphology can be defined briefly as the study of forms of
things. As a truly scientific term it was used in biology as early as in the 1830s, referring to
that branch of biology that dealt with the forms of living organisms, namely animals and
plants, and with relationships between their structures. (As a matter of fact, this is the
definition to be found in current English dictionaries.) At that time the science of language
was influenced by the evolutionary model of Charles Darwin, described in his famous treatise
called On the Origin of Species: languages, too, were seen as living organisms, which are
born, which grow, and which compete with one another. No wonder that morphology as a
scientific term was ascribed to that specific area of linguistic concern which zeroed in on
forms of words in their various uses and constructions. Different approaches to morphology
have been developed since, including those that try to separate the side of morphology dealing
with forms from the sides encompassing syntax and semantics. Some linguists even
maintained that it would be most convenient to render separately the interrelations of words
and their respective forms; then the way of arranging words, it was believed, would belong
entirely to syntax while the forms of words proper would be the subject of morphology.
However, no matter which way the concern of morphology students was oriented, a
heated discussion took place as to what the smallest units of the grammatical analysis were; as
a whole, it represented a reaction against the grammars which had ruled over the ideas on
language for the preceding two thousand years, namely, against the word-based grammars. It
was the almost ingenious concept of phoneme that brought about the achievement of its
grammatical parallel, i.e. morpheme, which was to replace the concept of word as a minimal
unit of grammatical description. Advocates of structural linguistics would certainly find the
morphemic units very attractive since it was believed that the mere identification of these,
and, consequently, their classification and distribution would serve well enough to describe
the grammar of a language, and, hopefully, the grammar of language as such. Many problems
arose, and they had to be solved, in one or the other way; not always satisfactorily, though.
Yet my present talk is meant to defend the status of morphology, pointing to certain issues
that may stir up interest of both prospective pure linguists and practitioners.
-o0o-
2. Status of word

2.1. Attempts at determining a word

Trying to look for and determine a minimal unit of grammatical analysis people
ignorant of linguistic arguments usually tend to think of word. They are convinced that they
are able to identify individual words, that they can tell where boundaries between words are,
and that they are capable of counting words in ones performance. The problem, however, is
that they have in mind their own mother tongue, or, possibly, the language(s) they can speak,
and, moreover, they rely, though subconsciously, on the written form, where words are
identified by spaces between them. It will not be difficult to make them disappointed: asking
them to distinguish words in a language with which they are not familiar will result in
embarrassment on their part. They will be able to identify sentences at the most, but surely not

14
the words of which those sentences are composed. The seeming parallel with written
performances will not help at all; even if we carried out the testing on the language that uses
writing (and we know that most languages do not), spaces between words on a writing
material have been a mere convention, which has very little to do with the word boundaries in
speech. As a matter of fact, there are no true spaces in speech to signal individual words.
Speech is rather a continuum, and any spaces, more precisely pauses, potential or real, in an
unmarked performance, signal larger stretches than words. (Some phoneticians must have
been right in claiming that there are no words as phonetic entities but rather stress groups, or
feet, as units hierarchically above syllables.)
It is difficult, indeed, to define what a word is, and not only for laymen; even
linguists have had problems to discuss the issues involved. Before we touch some of them at
least, let us only note that while the notion of word is hardly to be defined, other
grammatical terms are freely defined on using it; even the traditional partes orationis have
been referred to as classes of words lately! Thus all definitions are ones in circles, and this
has been so since L. Bloomfields minimum free forms, and, before him, E. Sapirs true,
significant elements of language. (Palmer 1986:107)

What issues can, or must, be inquired? One of them, which has bothered linguists, is
the following: Is boy and boys one word or are they two words? If we asked a non-
linguist, s/he would most probably take them as two different words. The reason for the
decision like this may lie in a superficial observance; yet even a linguist would have to admit
the truthfulness of the statement; namely, if we accept the fact that a word carries meaning
(and there is hardly anybody to ever deny it), then boy and boys have, quite evidently,
different meanings. And yet lexicographers do not list them as two words! A similar, though a
more subtle example is match: is this one word or more? Here the issues concerning
polysemy are involved: the word match has more meanings, both as a noun and a verb,
which are listed under one entry in most dictionaries. Yet some dictionaries, for instance,
Chambers English Dictionary, introduce two entries, namely, match 1 and match 2.

2.2 Word as a semantic entity

As a matter of fact, linguists must be aware of the difficulties arising from the
requirement that a word is a semantic entity, namely, that it is a linguistic unit of a single
meaning. In other words, a word is believed to convey one complete thought. We can, for
the time being, disregard the fact that defining a (single) meaning is no less easy task than
defining a word. Suffice it to illustrate one practical impact of the issue: there are strings of
words that undoubtedly have one meaning each, e.g. washing machine, usually referred to as
compounds, or spick and span, put up with, or even kick the bucket, which are idiomatic
phrases of various types. If we admit that these consist of two, three, or more words,
respectively, then we go somehow counter the postulated traditional view of words as units of
sense. And, at the same time, we would hesitate to say that they are one word each, in spite of
the fact that no one would try to make an even potential pause within the phrases.

A closer inspect will make us involved in still more difficulties, namely, we have to
admit that even single words sometimes carry more than one single meaning. The above-
quoted instance of boys : boy is a good proof of that: the former word brings about the
meaning of a boy + a boy + a boy +, in other words, the bit of meaning which is added
to the meaning a male child/youth is plural number. And something similar can be
observed in, for instance, understood: the expected single meaning is composed, as it were,
namely, one bit of meaning is understand, the other is past. And still one more example

15
is to show that there may be more than one single meaning in one single word: lamb, ewe,
ram (to quote Palmer 1976:44) mean sheep, and simultaneously also baby,
mother/female, and father/male, respectively.

It happens, too, that very often word boundaries do not coincide with meaning
boundaries. Suffice it to compare, for instance, criminal act with criminal lawyer to see that
the meaning of the latter is not understood as lawyer who is criminal; rather the meaning
boundary is placed within the word lawyer, so that the idea is he who deals with criminal
law.
2.3 Word as a phonological unit

More examples could be added and discussed in order to show that to define a word as
a semantic unit is a difficult task. No wonder that some linguists came in with the idea of
word as a phonetic or phonological unit (although others opposed!). Even if we disregard
the fact of pauses, there must be, as those linguists claim, at least some features that
characterise a word on the phonic level. And indeed, many languages have stress fairly fixed
on one particular syllable, which makes it possible for us to go counting forwards and/or
backwards and in this way to mark where the word begins and where it ends. This is not
always as easy as it seems, since, for instance, in the Czech unmarked sentence Jedu do Prahy
(I am going to Prague) there are only two stresses; and hence only two words??
Phoneticians will know that to speak in terms of feet rather than words is much safer. Yet
what is the situation like in English? The position of stress is movable, namely, it is not placed
on any particular syllable. Nevertheless, if we do insist on establishing the category of
word, then the (main, primary, strong) stress falls, we can argue, on only one syllable in
each word. The advocates of this principle usually contrast blackbird, blackboard, greenhouse
with black bird, black board, green house. Unfortunately, the relationship between oral and
written shapes of these and similar words is not always consistent enough, e.g.bread shop,
beehive, Anglo-Saxon.1 Moreover, many of the little words, which carry grammatical
meaning, are not normally stressed, e.g. I, her, to, it in I thought her to do it. It seems then that
the mere stress as a factor of word existence falls short. However, there is one more
phenomenon in English, which is commonly known as juncture. Namely, even in casual
speech it is possible to hear the difference, and thus to distinguish between a nice cake : an
ice cake. The precise signal for the distinction is difficult to specify: it may be anything from
the noticeable feature of aspiration (e.g. keep sticking : keeps ticking) to timing of various
articulatory movements (e.g. grey day : grade A). We do not need to care: the most important
fact is that we CAN distinguish the pairs even if in some cases the test is invalid, e.g. at all is
pronounced by most people as a tall.

2.4 Word as a syntactic unit

Finally, word is sometimes defined as an indivisible unit, and that from the syntactic
rather than the semantic point of view. A word is believed to be such a linguistic unit which
does not allow for insertion of any other linguistic units. Put in another way, words are
supposed to have a fixed internal structure, they are internally stable. Word identification can
be made in terms of a minimal unit of positional mobility: as D. Crystal (1971:190) has it, if
we want to insert fresh information into a sentence, then it is between the wordsnot within
them. For instance, we know that small children are two words because we can insert
English between them, the resultant phrase being small English children. Another test to

1
We will discuss the issue specifically in a talk on compounds.

16
prove the stabilised inner structure of a word is one showing impossibility of forms like
*edkick, *ball the, and similar, based on non-permitted restructuring of the stretch # the #
boys # kicked # the # ball #. Unfortunately, the test falls short because we have not yet
defined what a word is and still we somehow a priori require that the criterion of non-
insertion apply only to full words!

Neither the great L. Bloomfield was successful enough in defining a word. As we have
already mentioned above, his minimum free form1 was regarded as the smallest piece of
speech that could occur in isolation. However, we can utter in isolation anything if our
deliberate intentions are to do so. Asking a question what, for example, dancing, looking,
seeing, etc. have in common, the answer would undoubtedly be: ing. And is this considered a
word? Anybody will understand that what we are likely to pronounce in isolation is almost
certainly what we have learnt to recognise as a word from writing. And this cannot be a
definition. Moreover, in any normal speech many so-called words would not occur by
themselves: we are accustomed to label these as grammatical, e.g. I, a, the, my, of, etc. But
could they be defined as words, indeed? We are afraid not, if Bloomfields criterion is taken
into account. Let us notice, too, that some of these grammatical words have developed their
true independent forms, just for the case of their being used in isolation, e.g. mine for my, or
the French moi for je. What we have just commented upon is what some linguists put as a test
criterion trying to verify a word as a unit which can become a sentence. One can only wonder
why they tend to refer to grammatical words if they cannot be, by the same token, defined as
words at all.

2.5 Two senses of word as a linguistic term

It follows from what has been said so far that it would be the best idea to get rid of the
notion word altogether and to work with other terms which raise no difficulties. And,
indeed, it was the concept of morpheme that replaced that of word. Nevertheless, word is
still so deeply rooted a term that it may deserve a little more attention to be paid to instead of
being simply turned down.

The word word is a linguistic term, and as with other terms, we have to be careful
about understanding it and using it. The above-mentioned example boy : boys will serve us
well again in order to show that word as a term (or notion, or concept) is very often used in
two different senses. We can refer either to two different words, or to two different forms of
one and the same word. The former procedure is possible, though it will not be considered
very fruitful; as we may have noticed, the lexicographic practice has ignored this approach. If
we were to follow the view that in English boy and boys are two [different] words, then in so-
called inflectional languages the number of words defined like that would increase
enormously. In Latin, for instance, nouns have 12 forms, adjectives 36, and verbs 124 (though
some of them appear more than once in paradigms)! The latter, alternative approach seems to
be evidently more attractive: we can refer to the word boy and say that it has two forms,
namely, boy and boys. And there is still one more alternative: we can say that boy and boys
are different words, not just different forms, and we can establish a new, specific term for
boy which encompassed them both. The term that has been used widely is lexeme. Then
our example BOY is a word in the sense of lexeme, and boy and boys are words in the sense of

1
Forms which occur as sentences are free formsA free form which consists entirely of two or more lesser
free forms is a phrase. A free form which is not a phrase is a word. A word, then, is a free form which does
not consist entirely of (two or more) lesser free forms; in brief, a word is a minimum free form. (Bloomfield
1933:178)

17
forms of words. Let us notice that this is the practice used in dictionaries and grammar books
of respective languages: lexemic forms are introduced as ones considered simple or
unmarked, and they can be used in a variety of positions in their respective appropriate
forms. Thus while in Latin the form amo is used as an entry to refer to the verb AMO, in
Czech, Russian, Spanish, etc. it is a form corresponding to to love (milovat, ,
querer), and in English the entry love will do for the verb LOVE.

However much we may try to defend the status of word, we shall come to a
conclusion that the word is not a clearly definable linguistic unit. No wonder that scholars
needed something to provide a theory which was general enough for all languages. The
invention of morpheme was to overcome all difficulties

3. An alternative: Morpheme
The most concise definition says that a morpheme is the smallest unit of grammatical analysis. This will
not explain much before we try to comment upon it, though.

3.1 A new concept of grammar

Students in grammar were convinced that all the phenomena they needed to render
could be broken down to pieces, or units, that were smaller than words. The more so once
they realised that something like a word was evidently difficult to establish unambiguously to
work for all languages. Following the structuralist approach, they postulated that grammar of
a language could be analysed in terms of identifying these new minimal units and then
classifying them and describing the patterns in which the classes occurred. These minimal
units were called morphemes, powerful alternatives of words. There is a well-known nice
metaphor showing morphemes as bricks: these are made and fired in different sizes and
shapes and then used, or better, assembled in order to build walls of different types. The
parallel to grammatical structures is evident: the different sizes and shapes of bricks are
classes of morphemes, and the walls are to represent sentences, paragraphs, and texts. Yet we
should notice one fact, namely, the morphemic concept was no entirely new idea since
smaller parts than a word had been known for long, such as prefixes, suffixes, roots, etc.
However, the morpheme as defined by structuralists was a new concept, indeed; it was far
more general and hence it could serve, as was maintained, to describe agglutinative as well as
inflectional languages.1 From the beginning, the morpheme as a concept, taking after the
already established concept of phoneme, was so apparently comprehensive that its advocates
could be rightly convinced in its everlasting power. As we have said above, it was believed
that once the morphemes had been listed and classified, all larger units could be shown to be
simply patterns of morphemes. However, the postulated processes of identification,
classification and distribution of morphemes are not as easy and straightforward as it might
have seemed.

3.2. Morpheme identification

What are the issues, and possibly problems of morpheme identification? This task of
linguists activity is really the most important, and difficult, too, since after we have divided
up the complex forms of language and have arrived at the simple forms (to use

1
Humboldts inflectional, agglutinative and isolating languages are not three language types but rather three
morphological characteristics of parts of languages. Therefore it would be much more precise to say that the
morpheme concept was expected to describe forms and structures of parts of the respective languages.

18
Bloomfields terms), then everything else that we have to do is simply to describe all the
possible combinations of these simple forms. How do we arrive at these, though?

There must be certain criteria to tell us unambiguously which one is the true,
significant element of language (Sapir; after Palmer 1986:107), which one is just the
minimum unit of grammatical analysis. Namely, if we analyse a stretch of speech, we shall
come to a point at which we cannot analyse it any further. What we need is a template in
terms of restricting the basic definition or of adding something to the definition. Here all
linguists will come to an agreement that one of the attributes often added to the definition is
meaningful, and the other is contrastive.

Morpheme as a carrier of meaning

As early as L. Bloomfield (1933:158), speaking of linguistic forms, namely, of a


fixed combination of signalling units, the phonemes, refers to constant meaning of these. As
a matter of fact, he distinguishes between bound forms, which are linguistic forms never
spoken alone and never heard in isolation, and free forms, which are all other linguistic
forms. The constant meaning is ascribed to all of them. Thus many linguistic forms referred to
as bound can never be used as sentences, such as -ess in lioness, -ish in greenish, or -s in
hats, and yet they convey meaning (Bloomfield 1933:177). If we now speak in terms of
morphemes, we must admit that meaning will change with only adding or subtracting a
morpheme. For example, idiom idiomatic idiomatically idiomaticity are different
things, as well as boy boys or call called are different things. Moreover, this meaning
is different from the meanings of all the other morphemes in the language; in other words, it
contrasts with the others. Let us conclude, at least partially now, by saying that the morpheme
has been viewed as a minimal unit of grammar which carries meaning.

Morpheme as a formal unit

There is one more point worth noting (and not really only one): the morpheme is a
formal, physical unit, which has its phonetic shape. This characteristics was a part and parcel
of Bloomfields definitions of linguistic forms. In his opinion, some linguistic forms bear
partial phonetic-semantic resemblances to other forms (Bloomfield 1933:160-161), e.g.
John ran, John fell; Johnny, Billy; playing, dancing; blackberry, strawberry, while others
do not, e.g. bird, play, -y, -ing. The former are called complex forms, the latter simple
forms, or morphemes. Explicitly, the morpheme, as viewed by Bloomfield (1933:161) is a
linguistic form which bears no [underlined by us] partial phonetic-semantic resemblance to
any other form.1 It means that in order to arrive at morphemes we have to go on cutting
linguistic forms until no part of any linguistic form is similar to any other in its phonetic and
semantic characteristics. Following the definition, playing cannot represent a morpheme
because a part of it resembles the first part of plays and the other part of it resembles the
second part of dancing. However, if we make a cut within the complex form playing
dividing it into play [ple] and ing [], then neither form has any partial resemblance to any
other form and so the two can be, with great certainty, looked upon as simple forms,
namely, morphemes.

Morpheme in its syntactic role

1
Some morphemes may resemble others in their phonetic shapes, e.g. bird-burr, or the homonymous fir-fur,
pear-pair, but this is purely phonetic resemblance, which is not accompanied with resemblance in meaning.

19
In order to convey a complete picture of the morpheme, we have to add one more
characteristics to its being a minimal physical (formal, phonetic) and meaningful unit; the
morpheme also has a syntactic role, which it plays in the construction of larger grammatical
units, say, sentences. There are morphemes that create complex forms of a syntactic class
different from the base: for example, -er/-or, -ation, etc. turn verbs into nouns, which
obviously have different syntactic properties. The syntactic position of the base teach is
different in He teaches English and in He is an English teacher, and the same holds for
prolong in Id like to have my visa prolonged as contrasted to Visa prolongation will be
required.1

Morphemic recurrence

From what has been said, the identification of morphemes may seem to be an easy
process. But we do not need solely to identify single morphemes, namely one at a time; we
must be sure that when the same morpheme turns up again, it is just an example of the same
morpheme. In the sentence The prettiest girls in our two classes did not win the contests the
morpheme the is counted only once though it appears twice; we are sure that it is one and the
same morpheme because, first, it is indivisible any further without losing its phonetic and
meaningful entity, and, second, its phonetic shape, its meaning and its syntactic role has not
changed at all from the first occurrence (the girls) to the other (the contests). In either case its
phonetic value is [], and it fulfils the function of determiner as the minimal signal of noun-
phrase. Unfortunately, ideal cases of uniformity like this one do not always exist, and some
problems involved have to be solved.

Phonologically conditioned allomorphs.

Let us begin by revising of what Bloomfield himself recognised soon after he had
proposed his original morpheme concept. His idea of morphemes with entirely constant
phonetic and semantic identity is appropriate only to agglutinative languages2, and all other
languages, including inflectional ones, must be adjusted, as it were, to the form of structure of
the former. As a matter of fact, Bloomfield was forced to make certain modifications of his
original concept, which held that morphemes consisted of phonemes (Bloomfield 1933:161).
Indeed, if we try to further analyse the morpheme, it loses its identity and breaks down to
segments, or better, constituents, which can only be described on the phonic level as
phonemes or combinations of phonemes, or, speaking in terms of certain contemporary
Schools, as phonetic features. These no longer carry meaning, as is required. However, the
straightforward postulation of morphemes as being composed of phonemes falls short in
many cases, and it is here that Bloomfield had to find it necessary to speak of alternants. The
already classical example is the plural form in English: in our sentence The prettiest girls in
our two classes did not win the contests the forms classes, girls, contests all contain the
morpheme {-s}, but its phonetic shape alters. Any speaker of English, knowledgeable of
fundamental phonetic regulations, will confirm that /z/ appears after sibilants and affricates,
/z/ appears after all other voiced phonemes, and /s/ after all other voiceless phonemes:
therefore /kl:sz/, /g:lz/, /kontests/. And something very similar is known with the regular
past tense and the past participle morpheme, which has three phonological shapes, namely,
/d/, /d/, /t/ as in wanted, called, liked.3 Bloomfield called these variables phonetic alternants

1
We will talk on these and similar issues separately, under the topic Inflectional and derivational morphology.
2
Experts in such languages will argue that the claimed stability does not hold absolutely, either.
3
Strictly speaking, the voiced-ness of the final /-z/, /-d/ must be evaluated together with laxness and with relative
quantity of the syllable.

20
because they could be described in terms of phonetic modification. In order to be precise
enough in the interpretation of Bloomfields views, these alternations are regular and
automatic because they are due to (i.e. regulated by) the features of the accompanying
(basic) form, and because these features are phonemic. As is generally known, later the
alternants were called allomorphs (or simply morphs), while the whole class of alternants
was referred to as morpheme. In the end, the problem of the plural and the past tense
morphemes seems to be solved in a satisfactory way: if the phonetic shape of a morpheme is
altered only because of the phonetic influence of the neighbouring sounds, we do not need to
bother about any change of the morpheme itself. The morpheme does not lose anything of its
essential, abstract identity, it is always phonologically conditioned, and all its concrete
phonetic forms are nothing more but variants, i.e. allomorphs, of the same morpheme. To use
the same examples, the morpheme {s} in classes, girls, contests is represented as allomorphs
/z/, /z/, /s/, respectively, as well as the morpheme {ed} in wanted, called, liked is shown
through allomorphs /d/, /d/, /t/. By the way, we shall be very accurate if we claim that not
morphemes proper but rather allomorphs (or alternants) consist of phonemes, and if we speak,
as some linguists also did, in terms of morphemic alternants. Then the idea of the morpheme
will easily take account of such cases as we have discussed. But did we get rid of all questions
involved?

The scope of allomorphs

The variations of one and same morpheme in the examples we discussed were not so
different phonetically as to arouse doubts. But how far can we go so as to claim for the given
form to be just an allomorph? The expression1 prettiest in our example The prettiest girls in
our two classes did not win the contests could presumably be analysed as {prett(y)}+ {est},
where the {est} morpheme is the mark of comparison. Yet again, any speaker of English will
know that under certain conditions2 the Romance way of comparison is preferred: thus we
say the most beautiful girls rather than *the beutifulest. Undoubtedly, most is the signal
morpheme of comparison; however, one must be at a loss whether -est and most are
phonologically conditioned variants of the same morpheme the two are not just dissimilar,
they have phonetically nothing common at all. And indeed, if we allowed for such an amount
of phonetic similarity (or flexibility) as to see most and -est as mere allophones, then any two
synonymous forms could be ascribed the same status. Absurdity of doing so is obvious, and
the desired consistency in the use of the morpheme concept is threatened. Will it be more
convenient to leave out examples such as comparatives and superlatives? To our best
knowledge, nobody has yet found a way out of issues like these without diminishing the
comprehensiveness of the basic morpheme concept. And there are still more fuzzy points to
discuss

Morpheme irregularities: morphologically conditioned allomorphs

While the regular plurals of nouns are easily explicable in terms of the morpheme
concept, the question arises as to what to do with the irregular forms, especially with those of
so-called Umlaut (mutation) plural, e.g. man-men, goose-geese, mouse-mice, etc. And the
same problem exists with verbal forms such as take-took-taken, speak-spoke-spoken, etc.
Unfortunately, these are not all that cause problems: the plurals of the type knife-knives, ox-

1
On purpose we try to avoid using the word word in this neutral meaning; and something like complex
form might make the reader believe that we are only commenting on Bloomfields views.
2
Not only with expressions longer than two syllables but also with shorter ones, depending on their phonetic
shape, e.g. more skilled, versus narrower.

21
oxen, sheep-sheep, past tense forms such as hit, put, or even the French adjective forms, e.g.
long-longue, bothered many structuralists and made them amend the original morpheme idea.
We are afraid that none of them arrived at a definite solution; yet some of the views and ideas
are worth noting, all the same.

Substitution and portmanteau morphs

L. Bloomfield (1933:216) treats the mutated plurals and past tense forms as
substitution-alternants. In these plurals, he argues, a grammatical feature, phonetic
modification, expresses a meaning which is normally expressed by a linguistic form
(namely, the morpheme [z, z, s]). We may say that substitution of [ij] in geese, teeth, feet,
substitution of [aj] in mice, lice, substitution of [e] in men, and substitution of [i] in women,
are alternants of the normal plural suffix As for the past-tense verbs, he lists 11-12
substitutions of various syllabics taking place of [-d, -d, -t], e.g. got, drank, fled, lit, saw,
hung, took, gave, found, drove, knew, and somewhat more complex stood. Bloomfields view
was accepted by Z. Harris (1966:167 and elsewhere), who favoured the idea of replacement,
or, viewed from the other way around, the idea of change: If we compare take-took, shake-
shook, we would be led to extract take and shake as morphemic segments, and also a
morphemic segment consisting of the change of /ey//u/ and meaning past. The morpheme
sequence take plus /ey/ /u/ yields took, exactly as walk plus /t/ yields walked. We put the
two linguists opinions very briefly, but it is obvious that the exemplified forms are very
strange allomorphs: if mice should consist of two morphemes, namely {mouse}+ {plural},
and similarly, took as {take}+ {past}, then where to find them? It can hardly be the /a/ in
mice or the /u/ in took since if these are taken away, the remaining /m-s/ and /t-k/ cannot be
identified with the morphemes /maus/ and /tek/, respectively. And in case the meaning of
plurality or past is understood as the process of change from /au/ to /a/ or from /e/ to /u/, the
morphemes are no longer defined as formal units at all. It was C. Hockett (1966:271 and
elsewhere) who offered a different solution for the same problem, introducing the notion of
portmanteau morph, namely, one that belongs to two morphemes at a time. Thus /mas/
belongs simultaneously to mouse and s, and likewise /tuk/ is the portmanteau morph for both
take and ed. The theory works well insofar we admit that individual morphemes do not
always consist of phonemes but rather two or more morphemes in combination do. (It can be
argued, however, that a similar analysis cannot be applied to o in Latin amo because none of
the morphemes meaning first person-singular-present-indicative-active seems ever to have
its own individual allomorph.)

Irregular and suppletive morphs

Also treated were irregulars of the type knife-knives and ox-oxen. L. Bloomfield
(1933:212 ff.) called these irregular alternants and suppletive alternants, respectively. C.
Hockett (1966:280-281) seems to be in agreement with Bloomfield, even though for him
regularity is just a matter of degree and so suppletion or suppletive alternation stands for
an isolated pattern which constitutes the high-water mark of irregularity. Hockett, therefore,
ranks as irregular the forms oxen, men, children, data, phenomena, oases, etc., while
suppletive is go-went. In any case, four of them serve as typical examples, namely knife-
knives, mouth-mouths, house-houses, ox-oxen. Let us notice that the form house-houses [-s,-
zz] is the unique irregularity, being quite idiosyncratic in this respect, while there are other
forms of the plural similar to knives and mouths, e.g. wives, lives, wreaths, paths, etc. This

22
does not occur with most of other nouns, though; therefore we have roofs, myths, creases. As
Hockett points, the alternation between /wjf/ and /wjv/ for the morpheme {wife} is
morphemically conditioned: the shape /wjv/ is required when the noun-plural morpheme
follows.1 Z. Harris (1966:200) confirms the idea of morphologically conditioned alternation,
having the following to say: If we see that one morphemic segment (say, knive-) occurs only
in one environment (before -s), while another morphemic segment (say, knife) occurs only in
some other environment (never before s), we may group the two segments into one
morpheme {knife}. The morpheme {knife} then has two members: knive occurring before -s,
knife occurring elsewhere. The case ox-oxen also shows the so-called morphologically
conditioned alternation because English grammar allows for no phonetic modification of [z]
to [n]. The plural form is neither regular nor conditioned by its environment.

Zero morphs

Another extreme case is that of zero-alternants, later referred to as zero allomorphs.


This concerns forms such as sheep, namely, plurals without any formal characteristics to
define them, as well as hit, and the like, which represent specific past-tense forms of verbs.
The concept of zero allomorph seems plausible because otherwise we would have to
consider the plural or the past to be expressed somewhere else in the sentence.2 There is one
condition, though: not all allomorphs can be zero. If we did not observe the condition, we
could claim that e.g. BOY has a zero allomorph in the singular. The zero allomorph will not,
therefore, be automatically established where there is no linguistic form at all. Briefly, the
plurality can be said to be present in principle, though it is not given any phonetic
manifestation: sheep singular, sheep + plural. And similarly: hit present, hit +
past.

Empty morphs

Sometimes, though very rarely in English, we need to solve cases of morphs which
belong to no morphemes. A nice example is the plural form children: it contains /r/, which is
absent in the singular and is therefore referred to as an empty morph by some linguists.
Otherwise, it seems reasonable to look upon /ald/ in the singular and /ld/ in the plural as
allomorphs of the same morpheme and to identify the /n/ in children with the /n/ in oxen.
It is the very same procedure as applied with knife-type forms and the unique oxen
simultaneously.3

Subtractive morphs

There is one more type of morphs, which attracted linguists attention, namely one that
is called subtractive, or, by L. Bloomfield (1933:217), minus feature. Examples are usually
shown in French adjectives, which mostly occur in distinct masculine and feminine forms,
e.g. plein-pleine, bas-basse, frais-frache, etc. These could be described in two possible ways:
either the masculine forms are taken as bases and the specific consonants for each case in the

1
Unlike in my wifes hat, my wifes coming with me, where there are morphemes that appear in the same shapes
as the nounplural one but which do not require the alternate shape.
2
It would be an odd solution to argue that the plural allomorph is are-form of the verb in The sheep are coming
as opposed to The sheep is coming. Besides, where would this signal be in The sheep came? As for hit, the
distinction could only be made in the 3rd person: He hit (vs. hits) the ball.
3
Something similar, in terms of considering one phenomenon from two angles at a time, is the form
postman/postmen: it displays the same characteristics as the type mouse/mice in its written form, while in speech
it resembles the sheep-type.

23
feminine forms are listed, or vice versa, the feminine forms are regarded as bases and the
masculine ones are said to be derived from them by means of loss of the final consonant and
of the [-kt-] cluster. Since the consonants are many and they vary from adjective to adjective,
it is, no doubt, more convenient to opt for the latter procedure. This was what L. Bloomfield
himself proposed, being convinced that all the other differences between the two forms
(vowel quantity, e.g. gris [gri] vs. grise [gri:z], nasalization, e.g. plein [pl] vs. pleine [ple:n] )
reappear in other phases of French morphology and can in large part be attributed to the
phonetic pattern. As for English, the minus feature is believed to explain the cases like
have : had or make : made, in which one of the constituents is modified by the loss of a
phoneme. It is fair to say that the concept was not widely accepted; since the minus feature
could not be proved as being composed of phonemes, most linguists preferred treating all the
varying consonants in French adjectives as allomorphs of the morpheme {feminine}. In so
doing they did avoid some of the difficulties but, on the other hand, they could not arrive at
the desired simplicity of description.

The scope of the chapter does not allow for going into details. Nevertheless, from what
has been said one may get impression, and it will not be just a mere impression, that the
morpheme did not reach the prestige of an all-embracing concept something that it was
supposed to be. It can certainly be taken as a minimal unit of grammatical analysis in most of
language data, and it is certainly almost entirely applicable in the analysis of agglutinative
languages. Problems arise if we insist on its full application in languages called inflectional
even in English where irregularities are not plentiful. No wonder that many linguists have
been taking the inventory of morphemes as the basis of respective dictionaries; no wonder
that some of them have been looking for features common to both morphology and
phonology; and no wonder that others have maintained that there is nothing like morphology
at all since all phenomena traditionally dealt with in the domain of morphology can easily be
treated on the level of phonology and/or syntax. Yet we know of coherent models that were
worked out on using morphological data, and, even though the linguists interest has moved
to issues of syntax, the morpheme is still very much with us.

24
MORPHOLOGY
(A handout)

Charles Darwin: On the Origin of Species.


Morpheme - identification, classification, distribution
Morpheme=the smallest unit of grammatical analysis.*
L. Bloomfield: minimum free forms, E. Sapir: true, significant elements of language.

washing machine, spick and span, put up with, kick the bucket
a boy + a boy + a boy + = a male child/youth + plural number.
lamb, ewe, ram  sheep
criminal act : criminal lawyer
blackbird, blackboard, greenhouse - black bird, black board, green house.
bread shop, beehive, Anglo-Saxon.
I thought her to do it.
keep sticking : keeps ticking
grey day : grade A
at all -- a tall.
small [English] children.
*edkick, *ball the,
# the # boys # kicked # the # ball #.
LEXEME
-ess in lioness, -ish in greenish, -s in hats,
idiom idiomatic idiomatically idiomaticity
boy boys, call called
John ran, John fell; Johnny, Billy; playing, dancing; blackberry, strawberry;
bird, play, -y, -ing.

He teaches English : He is an English teacher.


Id like to have my visa prolonged : Visa prolongation will be required.

The prettiest girls in our two classes did not win the contests.

alternants , allomorphs
man-men, goose-geese, mouse-mice,
take-took-taken, speak-spoke-spoken,
knife-knives, ox-oxen, sheep-sheep; hit, put; long-longue.
geese, teeth, feet, mice, lice, men, women;
got, drank, fled, lit, saw, hung, took, gave, found, drove, knew, stood.

portmanteau morph
oxen, men, children, data, phenomena, oases : go-went.
knife-knives, mouth-mouths, house-houses, ox-oxen.
house-houses [-s,-zz]; knives, mouths; wives, lives, wreaths, paths : roofs, myths, creases
sheep singular, sheep + plural. ; hit present, hit + past.
plein-pleine, bas-basse, frais-frache
gris [gri] vs. grise [gri:z], plein [pl] vs. pleine [ple:n]
....................................................................................................
* ...+ carrying meaning, + playing syntactic role

25
[4]
PLACE OF SYNTAX IN LINGUISTIC STUDIES.

This talk is based largely on what we have learnt in the preceding ones. Some of you may find the
following text useful as revision, which was my intention, while some may take it as an unnecessary repetition of
commonly accepted and observed pieces of knowledge. Yet I still claim that these notes will make you think of
what you already know in greater detail and stimulate you to consult more materials.

In one linguistic model, the position of syntax is clearly indicated as one of the
disciplines of language analysis hierarchically above phonetics and phonology. What is
missing is morphology; this is because this model does not recognise morphology as an
independent stratum (layer) of language structure. Those who reject the existence of
morphology may have good arguments, saying that so-called morphological issues can well
be treated from the point of view of phonology or syntax. No wonder: since language works
as a genuine system, there must exist interrelations between the domains of phonology,
morphology and syntax, and also those of semantics and pragmatics. No wonder, too, that
current trends in linguistics prefer working with larger passages than minimal segments or
minimal units, such as the phoneme, morpheme, lexeme, and sentence. One of the trends is
called, expectedly enough, text linguistics, which deals with the features and phenomena of
stretches of language larger than a sentence, beginning with what is referred to as the
paragraph.

Is there anything that can diminish the role of independent morphology and draw its
domain towards that of syntax?

M S M S

The minimal units of grammar, namely morphemes, are of two basic types:

(1) Those that leave syntactic categories untouched, and are called inflectional;
(2) Those that very often (but not always) change syntactic categories, and are called
derivational.

Examples: (ad 1) un libro checo ; una muchacha checa (ad 2) bohat ; zbohatnout
esk slovnk ; esk uebnice rico ; enriquecer
esk student ; eskmi studenty rich ; enrich
der ganze Tag ; den ganzen Tag
eine grosse Tasche ; ein grosses Buch
boy ; boys

We could begin our discussion by saying that rich and enrich (and similarly:
professor-professorship; bake-baker) have different semantic value, namely, they represent
two different naming units. In so doing we would reach the sphere of lexicology and we
could go on asking many interesting questions, which, by the way, have been posed by
linguists, though not all of them have been satisfactorily answered yet. Even in lexicography,
which is a practical output of lexicological considerations, there are plenty of points worth
noting. For instance, we could wonder why boy and boys are included under one entry in a

26
dictionary whereas bake and baker are listed as two separate entries. We could also zero in on
issues of polysemy, as in the case of the entry match, for example. And so on and so forth.

The morpheme is not only a minimal physical (phonetic) and meaningful unit, though;
it also has a syntactic role, which it plays in the construction of larger grammatical units, say,
sentences. We have learnt above (in Chapter Five, and surely elsewhere) that there are
morphemes which create complex forms of a syntactic class that is different from the base,
e.g. er/-or, -ation turning verbs into nouns, which obviously have different syntactic
properties. e.g. He teaches English. vs. He is an English teacher. Similarly: Id like to have
my visa prolonged. vs. Visa prolongation will be required. Morphemes like these are referred
to as derivational, and as can be easily observed, they have very much to do with syntax. But
inflectional morphemes, too, perform a syntactic role; as a matter of fact, inflectional
morphemes are those that are unconditionally required by the sentence syntax. For example,
in Latin the form of a verb alters according to the form of the subject, and the attributive
adjective takes on various forms depending on the grammatical characteristics of the head-
noun:
amo amamus; pater venit patri veniunt; servus bonus servi boni; femina bona, etc.
Illustrations can easily be found in other languages, called flective (inflectional), including
Old English, e.g., he bi ahwerfed from gode to yfle; gif u swa gewletne mon meetst
In Modern English the situation is much simpler; yet some restrictions are imposed on the
choice all the same, in cases we refer to as concord (or agreement), e.g. I/you love vs. he
loves.
Besides concord there is also another type of restriction, which may be illustrated by the
examples mons ad montem; patrem amare; in die Schule in der Schule, etc. Here
prepositions and verbs decide on the respective forms of their nouns; they are said to govern
nouns in certain cases.
In Old English government also existed, but nowadays it is of very little importance.

Both concord and government are products of Latin grammar, and both are usually present in
order to restrict the choice of forms, e.g.
Pater bonun filium amavit.
(pater > amavit: concord in person and number; amavit > filium: government in case; filium > bonum: concord
in number, gender, case)

One should not expect that morphology alone constitutes the whole of grammar. As is
commonly known, some scholars even maintain that there is very little space for its
autonomy, since they hold that everything that linguists are interested in is dealt with perfectly
well as either phonological or syntactic issues. And indeed, even if we do not disregard the
domain of morphology, we have to admit that a full grammatical description presupposes
syntactic considerations. In a view which respects and favours the existence of morphology,
syntax is believed to appear in two distinct areas, of which one is closely related to
morphology and the other is largely unrelated to it. Speaking in traditional terms, the first
area of syntax deals with issues of CONCORD and GOVERNMENT, while the other area is
concerned with WORD-ORDER. However, if we look at this statement in detail, the two areas
do not appear to be quite so distinct: just like anywhere else in linguistic considerations, we
cannot well draw clear-cut lines of division between data and phenomena and neither should
we attempt to construct frameworks and categories at all costs. This strict categorisation may

27
sometimes be a matter of convenience on the researchers part, but seeing linguistic
phenomena as a continuum surely stands closer to reality.1

-o0o-

Nevertheless, let me note a few remarks on that concept of syntax which does not
acknowledge morphological considerations. Some linguists came to the conclusion that the
analysis carried out by means of minimal units called morphemes was not as powerful and
universal as others had proposed. And indeed, as we could witness mainly in the 1960s and
1970s, the concern of linguists was shifted from the word and then from the morpheme to
larger units, namely to SENTENCES. Thus sentences were believed to be THE units of true
grammatical analysis. (This does not mean, however, that there are no larger units but a
sentence: as I mentioned here above already, text analysis works with terms such as
utterance, paragraph, or text!) The sentence, however, will forever remain a maximum
unit, namely, in the sense that the linguist will be able to show in one sentence all the
respective grammatical classes, categories and structures which occur in language. It is
obvious that the features which differentiate types of sentences are much clearer than the
features or grammatical relations that combine sentences into yet larger wholes.2

Most linguists begin their analysis by simply talking of the notion sentence (S, ),
and they apply it to the analysis of data. As a matter of fact, they start by a working
definition of sentence, such as

S = an independent language form;


S = a subject-predicate construction,

and they come to elaborate the former or the latter according to the character of the new
language material under investigation. Of course, they can also rely on such phenomena as
intonation, punctuation, etc. Nevertheless, the overall definition of sentence follows a
systemic analysis: sentence is a product of grammar, not something that we have at our
disposal in advance! This characteristic is shared by all recent explicit techniques of syntactic
approach.

For instance: Poor John ran away.

Adj. N V Particle

Subject Predicate

Characteristic approaches.
Well, if I say that the characteristic a sentence is a product of grammar is shared by all
recent explicit techniques of syntactic approach, I anticipate your logic question: And which
are those techniques? They are not far too many, but neither only one or two! I did my best to

1
Undergraduates may have noticed that owing to these facts seminars in morphology and syntax are traditionally
held separately, whereas there may be only one examination comprising both disciplines.
2
Teachers have experienced that it is easier (for beginners) to master if-clauses, infinitive condensations, etc.
than construct larger passages.

28
generalise to a certain extent, and finally I managed to come to three different approaches
which could be labelled, say, ascribed their tags. In other words, there are three techniques in
common use which are to describe sentence structures.

Before we start to discuss them, lets have a sample sentence1 to show the basic differences
and similarities, thus contrasting the approaches.
The three old ladies upstairs own a boxer dog with a mean temper.

And now, we have to bear in mind that no matter which approach, or technique, is preferred,
it always holds that the description of the syntax of a language must include two major
components, namely:
1. classification of the words and other elements, and
2. statement of their relations.

The former component concerns the well-known primary grammatical categories, parts of
speech, or word classes, such as noun, adjective, pronoun, verb, preposition, conjunction, etc.
As for the latter component, the various techniques emphasise different features of syntactic
structure, and sometimes they reflect differences of fundamental viewpoints of respective
authors. The authors subjectivity must always be taken into consideration.

(1) The sentence we are going to analyse is one of the familiar S-V-O type. We start by
identifying these three major sentence elements, namely, the single words, where possible:
ladies is a subject, own is a verb, and dog is a direct object. These three together constitute the
sentence base; and the remaining sentence elements are all modifiers of one or the other of
these three. With a mean temper is so-called prepositional phrase and it functions as one
unit in modifying dog. Within it there are two modifiers of temper
Lets understand the term modify / modification to mean grammatically dependent
upon or grammatically subordinate to. Also we can speak of determination. And some
grammarians prefer the term attribution, saying, e.g., old is attributive to ladies.
Its true that the term sentence base, or better clause base, is not widely used, but
it appears in the label for this approach: base-and-modifier technique.

(2) The second approach also recognises the S-V-O type of sentences, yet the respective
elements are not identified as single words. The subject is the three old ladies upstairs, the
verb is own, and the direct object is a boxer dog with a mean temper. Two of these sentence
elements need further analysis. They are called Noun Phrases. NP is considered as having a
number of slots (or positions) for each of which there can be specified appropriate fillers. One
of these slots must be filled, and it is called Head. The other slots are filled by modifiers. The
Head is usually a noun, but it can be what we call syntactic noun, coming into existence by
conversion, e.g., the poor. The slots are then counted, like S-1, for instance, and are filled by
modifiers labelled in terms expressing semantic categories. Thus we speak of determiners
(e.g., articles, possessive pronouns, demonstrative pronouns), pre-determiners (e.g., all, both,
half), quantifying and qualifying attributes (e.g., three, many old, pretty), etc.
Our sample sentence can be analysed as follows:
[see transparency] ..

The fillers to enter respective slots differ, sometimes considerably! Just to offer an example:
you can modify old by extremely, but not three! Thus nothing like *the extremely three old

1
After Gleason, H.A. (1965): Linguistics and English Grammar. Holt,Rinehart & Winston, Inc..

29
ladies is acceptable, but only the three extremely old ladies. And second, the labels used are
not integrated on one basis. They are subject to the traditional Latin-like word classes, which
does not comply with the Modern English system. Let us notice that in our sample sentence
the words dog and boxer are classified as nouns, and yet they come into two different slots!
Nevertheless, the technique is one of those that emphasise the functional approach to
language phenomena, and it is called aptly as the slot-and-filler technique. It is based on the
theory elaborated by Prof. Pike and his followers, namely, the approach referred to as
TAGMEMICS.1 I myself appreciate the coined functional aspect of the theory (so familiar to
me from the activities and achievements of the Prague School), as applied to immediate
constituent analysis, which Im commenting upon later on. Pikes tagmemics defined a
correlation between grammatical function, represented by the slot, and the formal classes of
elements which come into, or fill in, the slots. To sum up briefly, his approach made it
possible for him to free himself of the bounds of Latin grammar and to clarify the connection
between what we are used to calling syntax and semantics.2

Note: The slot-and-filler technique differs from the base-and-modifier technique in one
significant way: in the former the modifiers are within and part of the major sentence
elements, in the latter modifiers are added to the major sentence elements. School
grammars sometimes pay respect to this in passing, speaking of simple subject /
predicate / object and complete S / P / O what Czech pupils will know under the
labels hol rozvit.

(3) The third approach is less concerned with such major sentence elements. It operates on the
assumption that most constructions will have only two parts. These are called immediate
constituents (IC) of the sentence. (Some linguists speak of pattern parts, though.) Applied
to our sample sentence, this falls to
the three old ladies upstairs + own a boxer dog with a mean temper,
and the second part is cut into own + a boxer dog with a mean temper.
So three major sentence elements have appeared, but these are not coordinate parts.
One is an IC of the sentence, the other two are ICs of the predicate.

Alternatively the description might start with the separate words of the sentence. The
first step would be to unite as constructions those pairs of words judged to be most closely
connected: old ladies, boxer dog, men temper. Then treating these as units on a par with the
remaining single words, the process is repeated. The next constructions to appear are: three
old ladies, a boxer dog, a mean temper. And so on.

This is, in fact, L.Bloomfields conception, in which a sentence is no longer defined as


a string of elements (morphemes), but it is rather a hierarchical structuring (layering) of so-
called immediate constituents. In other words, a sentence can be split into immediate
constituents of lower and lower ranks. This approach can be used with some advantage, and
generally, when we carry out a syntactic analysis, namely, when we determine syntagmatic
pair-members.3 Another advantage is that it eliminates many problems concerning
terminology (such as sub-types of adverbial clauses), and, above all, it allows us to see the

1
More information in Brend, R.M. (1974): Advances in Tagmemics.
2
A practical application of the tagmemic theory can be seen in my 1980 book Semantic Determinations Within
the Noun Phrase in Modern English and Spanish.
3
In Czech: vtn dvojice.

30
process of the expansion of small sentences into theoretically unlimited long entities, e.g.
Roses smell nice. > Those red roses> Those red garden roses you brought, etc.1

===================================================================
The IC and slot-and-filler techniques are alike in building up larger constructions from
smaller, rather than hanging extra elements on a basic skeleton. They differ in several ways,
though:
SF has no restriction as to the number of constituents in a construction.
IC often goes through more steps from word to sentence.
SF must describe many unfilled slots, while
IC does not do this: each construction is described as complete in itself.
IC emphasises the relation between the partners in a construction,
SF emphasises the place of each component in a larger whole.
===================================================================

And here we are quite close to some practical outcomes of the present
discussion

Professor I. Poldauf once wrote an extensive article on The Third Syntactic Plane,
and Prof. F. Dane published a study entitled A Three-Level Approach to Syntax. What did
they mean by that? As a matter of fact, they dealt, perhaps from a different angle, with what
V. Mathesius proposed as aktuln lenn vtn and what J. Firbas and his followers
elaborated under the heading Functional Sentence Perspective. Also many other linguists
wrote about what some call the double-layered syntactic plane and others refer to as
surface and deep structure.
Put very briefly, even untrained speakers may have noticed that one and the same
syntactic structure has sometimes two meanings. This is well illustrated by Chomskys
famous example

John is eager to please. X John is easy to please.

There is no difference is the two sentences syntactic structure, namely in their surface
structure. Both of them have altogether identical structures of immediate constituents.
However, the constituent John performs a twofold role: in the former sentence John is the
actor (agent, agens) of the activity please, whereas in the latter case John is the sufferer
(patient). Expressed in traditional (Mathesius) terms, John is the psychological subject or the
psychological object, respectively, from the viewpoint of deep structure.

A few sentences here will suffice to illustrate syntactic and semantic characteristics:

Chomskys classic example Colorless green ideas sleep furiously is one extreme: the
correct, acceptable syntactic structure collides with semantics in that our common experience
does not allow for any reasonable sense that this sentence may convey.
On the other hand, different syntactic structures may convey identical cognitive
meaning, as in
Molecules always move very fast. < > Molecules are in a continuous rapid motion.

1
A little more extended information can be found in S.Kavka, English Linguistics for Novices, Ostrava,
Repronis, 2009: 38-45.

31
Nevertheless, much more interesting are the following sentences:

1. The lady quickly carried out an attack on the tramp.


2. The lady carried out a quick attack on the tramp.
3. They kept close tabs on John.
4. They observed John closely.
5. They kept expensive wine in the cellar.
6. They kept wine in the cellar expensively.
7. He tried to break the musical ice in vain.
8. In the end, she was at a temporary loose end.

As for the conclusions, unlike 1-2 and 3-4, the meanings of 5-6 are not identical at all,
and their syntactic structures correspond to this fact. However, sentence 7 is syntactically
correct, and yet it does not mean what we would like it to mean: it does not mean to strike up
an acquaintance after initial shyness by dint of playing music. On the other hand, sentence 8
is fairly acceptable and its reading is expectedly to be without a task temporarily.

What we call semantic structure is, indeed, the fundamental component of language.
And we have to know the semantic structure; if we do not, then we shall find it difficult to
describe the so-called post-semantic processes which operate over it. It is these processes that
form up correct utterances, namely, correct in the sense of being idiomatic. Put the other
way around, and briefly, these processes are semantic limitations which determine whether
utterances are correctly formed. Let us try to consider whether the following sentence is
correct, or whether it might need an amendment:

That conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions is


evident in the unacceptable sequences as

It is likely that readers will consider that as a part of NP {that conventionalised co-
occurrence} before they reach the other is, which causes them to return to the beginning and
re-evaluate the structure so that the intended NP working as a subject is the whole of {that
conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions}. Therefore it
seems more convenient to reconstruct the utterance; taking account of Functional Sentence
Perspective, possible variants may be the following:

a) It is evident in the unacceptable sequences as that conventionalised co-occurrence is


the usual basis of idiomatic expressions.
b) Conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions, which is
evident in the unacceptable sequences as
c) Conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions, and that is
evident in the unacceptable sequences as

It is not my intention to make you agree with everything that I am saying. Yet please try to consider the
place of syntax amongst the other linguistic disciplines. If we accept the scheme I myself prefer, then phonetics
and phonology belong to the very centre as it were, the fundamentals of all linguistics. And indeed, there have
been scholars who have claimed that the whole of grammar was actually condensed phonetics! Also those who
are concerned with so-called Language Change would admit that the idea of grammar as condensed phonetics is
fairly close to reality. What about syntax then? I do not mean to evoke the thought that syntax can be eliminated,
perhaps on the same grounds as morphology sometimes is. If we did that, then our model would have to
comprise a fairly large area of what is generally referred to as grammar. And, consequently, would phonetics
be included in grammar? Many more questions would then arise, just to baffle a novice in linguistics. I read
somewhere, and I am almost certain it was W. Chafe, who maintained that linguistics described things from the

32
middle, as it were, and he added that linguistics had made the same mistake as engineers did when describing the
production of milk while forgetting the cow. I am afraid that the simile is a little limp, but it expresses a lot all
the same. Therefore mine is the conviction that any primarily syntactic course should not disregard semantic
considerations. The illustrative sentences here above back up this standpoint, and also many others which may
seem trivial at first sight: for instance, is there anything noteworthy about English modal verbs from the
narrowly morphological and syntactic point of view? Hardly anything! And yet their periphrastic forms offer a
great number of questions to consider from the point of view of their meaning. (I hope that there is no one in the
class who is convinced that I could swim is always identical with I was able to swim.)

Language is such a complex phenomenon that in order to know it we need tools of not only
linguistics but also of psychology, artificial intelligence, and of course, of philosophy. Let us notice that these
disciplines (though not all) have always been co-parts of university training curricula and the results of their
investigations have been aimed at didactics, at teacher training. Nevertheless, imagine that research in
psychology, philosophy, artificial intelligence, and the like, serves the needs of linguistics and we have another
large field to cultivate, which is called, perhaps fashionably, COGNITIVE LINGUISTICS.

-o0o-

Tasks to discuss in seminars.


1. Do you agree with the standpoint which disregards morphology?
2. Give examples of grammatical concord and government in Modern English, Czech or Slovak.
3. Could issues of word-order be possibly solved within the domain of morphology?
4. How is it that certain sentences are judged as syntactically correct and yet they are still unacceptable?
5. Try to give comprehensible reasons for the claimed identical cognitive meaning of the example: Molecules
always move very fast. Molecules are in a continuous rapid motion.

-o0o-

Traditionally, as most dictionaries have it, the term sentence is understood as a conventional
unit of connected speech or writing. Yet the term has slightly different senses for
professionals, for instance a decision or judgement of a court; or a period in music; in
linguistics, a sentence is meant to often represent a larger passage, consisting of at least two
parts, each of which having usually subject and predicate areas. Of course, also only one such
part is called a sentence, once it brings about a complete idea or thought. No wonder that the
term sentence is accompanied with specifying attributes to avoid misunderstanding. For
instance, John studies English is one full statement and is referred to as simple sentence. If
we say John studies English and Dick studies French, it is also a sentence, yet it brings about
two full ideas and therefore it is called compound sentence. Let us bear in mind, however,
that sometimes two ideas within one sentence are not equally full, or complete: for instance,
in He was busy when I came the part when I came is sensed as incomplete a listener would
certainly expect more information. If this is the case, we speak of complex sentence. Let us
agree, too, that the parts of such larger sentences are called clauses, and the term clause
is also specified by attributes principal, or main,, and subordinate. It is quite logic that a
compound sentence consists of principal clauses only, whereas a complex sentence must have
one principal clause and one or more subordinate clauses.
From the didactic point of view learners of English do not usually run into problems
when construing compounds sentences. Subordinate clauses, however, must be paid attention
to. Here are some of their types:

Subject The worst thing is that he never knows anything.


Object Do you know where he will work?
Attributive Do you know the gentleman who has just entered?
Predicative The question is whether there will be any connection.

33
Adverbial
of Time He was busy when I came.
Place You may go wherever you like.
Manner He does not speak as the other people do.
Cause / Reason As you are tired, you had better rest.
Purpose Leave the door open so that I can enter.
Concession He finished first though he began last.
Consecutive He spoke so quickly that we could not follow him.
Conditional If you are tired, well sit down and rest.

-o0o-

34
Place of syntax in linguistic studies.
(A handout.)

inflectional: un libro checo ; una muchacha checa derivational: bohat ; zbohatnout


esk slovnk ; esk uebnice rico ; enriquecer
esk student ; eskmi studenty rich ; enrich
der ganze Tag ; den ganzen Tag
eine grosse Tasche ; ein grosses Buch
boy ; boys

Derivational morphemes have very much to do with syntax. Inflectional morphemes are those
that are unconditionally required by the sentence syntax.
amo amamus; pater venit patri veniunt; servus bonus servi boni; femina bona, etc.

Pater bonun filium amavit.


(pater > amavit: concord in person and number; amavit > filium: government in case; filium > bonum: concord
in number, gender, case)

the first area of syntax deals with issues of CONCORD and GOVERNMENT, while the other
area is concerned with WORD-ORDER.

S = an independent language form;


S = a subject-predicate construction;
S= a product of grammar.

Poor John ran away.

Adj. N V Particle

Subject Predicate

The three old ladies upstairs own a boxer dog with a mean temper.

base-and-modifier technique
slot-and-filler technique (tagmemics)
immediate constituents (IC)
-o0o-
aktuln lenn vtn
Functional Sentence Perspective

John is eager to please. X John is easy to please.


Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.
Molecules always move very fast. < > Molecules are in a continuous rapid motion.

The lady quickly carried out an attack on the tramp.


The lady carried out a quick attack on the tramp.

35
They kept close tabs on John.
They observed John closely.

They kept expensive wine in the cellar.


They kept wine in the cellar expensively.

He tried to break the musical ice in vain.


In the end, she was at a temporary loose end.

That conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions is


evident in the unacceptable sequences as

a) It is evident in the unacceptable sequences as that conventionalised co-occurrence is the


usual basis of idiomatic expressions.
b) Conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions, which is
evident in the unacceptable sequences as
c) Conventionalised co-occurrence is the usual basis of idiomatic expressions, and that is
evident in the unacceptable sequences as

-o0o-

Subject The worst thing is that he never knows anything.


Object Do you know where he will work?
Attributive Do you know the gentleman who has just entered?
Predicative The question is whether there will be any connection.
Adverbial
of Time He was busy when I came.
Place You may go wherever you like.
Manner He does not speak as the other people do.
Cause / Reason As you are tired, you had better rest.
Purpose Leave the door open so that I can enter.
Concession He finished first though he began last.
Consecutive He spoke so quickly that we could not follow him.
Conditional If you are tired, well sit down and rest.

36
RELATIVE CLAUSES

OE > ME > NE
e (se) e which which / who which / who(m) / whose / that / zero
Constraints:
1. no preposition before that;
2. whom rather obsolete;
3. who / which = formal  that / zero = informal;
also in repetitions, e.g., The students who were ill and that were absent .
4. who / which in non-restrictive clauses, e.g., Mr Lloyd, the physicist, who you met before,
has just arrived.
5. which in explicative clauses, namely, related to the whole of the idea of the main clause,
e.g., All were present, which I consider to be very important.
6. who  he / she X which  it
e.g., I had to take care of the child who was left alone. A horse which is exercised.
My company, which is believed the most progressive,.
My company, who are really good experts, .
Examples:

7. Can you see the gentleman WHO /THAT is talking to your daughter.
8. The house WHICH / THAT were built in the 70s are really ugly.

9. The pretty girl WHOM / WHO / THAT / -- you met at the party is my daughter.
10. All the houses WHICH / THAT / -- visitors can see in this part of the town date from .

11. The pretty girl TO WHOM you were talking at the party is my daughter.
The pretty girl WHO / THAT / -- you were talking TO is my daughter.

12. Many diseases FROM WHICH the mankind suffer are incurable.
Many diseases THAT / -- the mankind suffer FROM are incurable.

13. My friend Charlie, WHOSE son studies at the university, will be sixty next week.
14. A car the brakes OF WHICH are out of order must not be driven.
A car WHOSE brakes are out of order must not be driven.

37
SEQUENCE OF TENSES

Max sagte dass er ein Buch schrieb. (< schreibt)


Juan me dijo que escriba un libro. (< escribe)
Bob told me that he was writing a book. (< is writing)
Honza mi ekl, e pe knihu.
..
John said that he knew it. e to v.
John let me know that he had finished the book. e dokonil.

How did you know that it was going to rain?


He hoped that she would come the next day. [<tomorrow]

PAST PRESENT FUTURE


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
that day today
then now
the day before yesterday
the previous day
the next day tomorrow
the following day
the previous week last week
in two days the day after tomorrow
before two days the day before yesterday

He said: Where did Jane live?


He asked where Jane had lived.

He asked: What were you talking about?


He asked what I had been talking about.

He said: Will anyone attend the lecture?


He wanted to know whether / if anyone would attend the lecture.

Will John come tomorrow if it rains?, they wondered.


They wondered whether / if John would come the next day if it rained.1

The Headmaster said: I must insist that all students be present at the ceremony.
The Headmaster insisted on all the students to be present at the ceremony.

The secretary said: Please come tomorrow morning as Mr White will be there.
The secretary told me to come the next morning as Mr White would be there.

Mother said: Kids, dont move until I have washed the floor.
Mother asked the kids not to move until she had washed the floor.

38
TIME PRE-PAST PAST PROPER PRESENT / FUTURE
----------------------------------------------------------------X------------------------------------
FORMS had been was / were am / are / is
had had had have / has
should / would shall / will
could / might1 can / may
had done did do / does
had called called call / calls
had written wrote write / writes
etc.

Didnt you know that the squared root of 144 is 12?


We learnt that Alfred the great ruled in the 10th century.
They wanted to know which country I was born.

She knew that honesty has always been the best policy.
I learnt this morning that they have begun work on the bridge.

Didnt you know that my wife was ill?


Didnt you know that my wife is ill?

[Newton imagined] a mountain several hundred miles high with a gun on its top. A
bullet fired from the gun would fall to the ground. But how far the bullet travelled before
hitting the ground would depend on its velocity as it left the muzzle of the gun. The faster the
bullet, the farther it would go. If the bullet was shot very fast, it would still fall towards the
ground, but would travel so far that it would always miss the Earth.

It was nearly bedtime and when they awoke next morning, land would be in sight. Dr
Macphail lit his pipe and, leaning over the rail, searched the heavens for the Southern Cross.
After two years at the front and a wound that had taken longer to heal than it should, he was
glad to settle down quietly at Apia for twelve months at least, he felt already better for the
journey. Since some of the passengers were leaving the ship next day at Pago-Pago, they had
had a little dance that evening and in his ears hammered still the harsh notes of the
mechanical piano. But the deck was quiet at last. A little way off he saw his wife in a
longchair talking to the Davidsons, and he strolled over to her.

39
[5]
INFLECTIONAL AND DERIVATIONAL MORPHOLOGY.

Some colleagues of younger generation may accuse me of being too faithful to traditionalism in
observing linguistic phenomena. Frankly speaking, I do appreciate the contemporary modern computerising
trends in collecting and analysing language data; yet I still believe in a peaceful meditation as a counter-balance
to technical-like approaches, finding the results fairly efficient and, hopefully, significant enough for both
theoretical and applied linguistics. One of my little ideas is to show that the traditionally as well as newly
established categories, however much useful notions these may be, are not clear-cut ones but rather represent
cardinal, i.e. supporting, even extreme points in a spectrum. All kinds of transitions are observed, the
properties of respective categories oscillating around the hopefully well-defined points and merging into one
another. Examples can be found in all spheres of language analysis, from phonetics to semantics, and so also in
morphology.

Anybody oriented linguistically will have noticed that there have been scholars who
zeroed in on morphology, and those who doubted, as it were, the place of this discipline in the
overall organisation of grammar. The question reads whether there is any need for a truly
morphological component in language at all. Does anything like a morphological component
exist, in the sense of a parallel to what everybody generally acknowledges as a phonological
and a syntactic component this is the question that some linguists tackle. TG grammar
proponents, for example, are those who dispute the existence of morphology, claiming that all
the work of assembling words can be performed by principles of semantics, syntax and
phonology. Representatives of so-called lexical hypothesis, or, on the other hand, those who
believe in omnipotence of syntax in word-formative issues, they all seem to be convinced that
they got rid of the problems involved, the problems which exist objectively all the same,
irrespective the satisfaction-giving oversight. I have been looking for a resolution of some of
the many remaining issues, believing, of course, in the existence of morphological component
in grammar description. To my knowledge, the discussions are still far from being finished;
even the recent Optimality Theory seems to fail in bringing a satisfactory agreement on how
the morphological component interacts with the other components. Following K. Russell
(1998: 128 ff.), for example, one of the unresolved questions, which depend largely on the
overall approach to grammar and to morphology in particular, is the difference between
inflection and derivation (or, word-formation). In other words, the issue reads whether
inflectional morphology and derivational morphology operate on different principles, namely,
whether the two types of morphology, as distinguished traditionally, are fundamentally
different. Or do we only look for problems where there are none?

In the following I am going to opt in favour of keeping inflectional and derivational


morphology apart, although, as I will try to argue, these cannot well be viewed as clear-cut
categories, or types. You will understand, I guess, that the feasibility of one type being
drifted over to another is not the same as considering the whole morphology as fully
inflectional or fully derivational, i.e. lexical. As a matter of fact, what I take into account is
the functional characteristic of formatives, or morphemes, these being referred to as
inflectional or derivational, respectively. Yet it would be wrong to assume, as I argue, that
there are languages (English included) the morphemes of which are exclusively inflectional or
exclusively derivational; there are, no doubt, morphemes that are endowed with either
function, in dependence on the type of operations they enter. Here the interaction of the
morphological component with the components of syntax and even semantics must be taken
into account and explained in a satisfactory way. Complex evaluation of individual, yet
sometimes prototypical instances is always expected; as elsewhere, it holds that no single
criterion should be applied in absolute terms.

40
Let us begin with general cases of interaction, first of all with the syntactic component.
Here, as is believed, inflectional morphemes are those that are required obligatorily by the
sentence syntax; for good measure, they enter operations which leave syntactic categories of
base morphemes untouched. For example, Latin mons/montem [mountain] is a noun,
bonus/bonum/bona [good] is an adjective, amo/amare/amavit [to love] is a verb, etc. Yet it
is true that these convey some more elements, namely grammatical meanings, such as
gender, number, tense, etc.; these are labelled traditionally as grammatical categories, i.e.
properties which may be syntactically relevant in fitting the word in a sentence. So also in
Modern English: in cloud/clouds, for example, the morpheme {s} of the latter member
conveys the grammatical meaning of number. Hence, it is expected, the two members of the
inflectional category always belong to the same syntactic category; namely, both act as a
syntactic subject or an object and they are traditionally referred to as nouns. But is this {s} in
the English clouds selected really on the same grounds as the Latin {em} or {a} or {v-it} in
the aforesaid examples? In other words, can the English {s} in (syntactic) nouns be defined
unanimously as an inflectional morpheme?

There are also morphemes of different syntactic functions, though. As a matter of fact,
the choice of these is not determined by syntax but, on the contrary, once they are chosen, the
new, complex term requires to be treated syntactically in a different way. Thus the Latin
erogo [I pay] is a verb, whereas erogatio [payment, distribution] is a noun, and the English
cloudy is classified as an adjective, in opposition to cloud as a noun; likewise, enrich is a verb
while the base rich is an adjective. Apparently enough, the members in opposition do not
belong to the same grammatical category. In other words, the morphemes {atio]; {y}, {en} in
the present examples enter so-called derivational operations, through which new naming units
arise, belonging to syntactic classes different from the base. As is commonly known,
derivational morphemes have been referred to as affixes, and more specifically as suffixes,
prefixes and infixes, in dependence on their position towards the base.

If explained in a simple way as above, the distinction between inflectional and


derivational morphemes could be understood with only a modicum of difficulty. Yet why do
we find among linguists different approaches to the distinction and why none of them seems
to have ever provided a unanimous discrete division between the two categories of
morphemes, and consequently, between inflectional and derivational morphology? I myself
am doubtful of the simplicity: the matters seem to be so neatly organised that they cannot be
true. A few examples will illustrate some problems involved.

One and the same morpheme can be regarded as inflectional in one case and as
derivational in another case. Thus the English {er} attached to the base big leaves the
resultant complex form syntactically untouched (i.e. bigger as well as big are both adjectives
of the same syntactic behaviour); but having been attached to teach, resulting in teacher, it
entails a change from a verb to a noun, which brings about syntactic consequences (i.e. teach
can only be a predicate, teacher performs the functions of a subject or an object). Similarly,
the morphemes {ing} and {ed} can also fall in either category: since they are attached mostly1
to verbal stems, one is tempted to take them as inflectional, likewise {s} and {ed} marking the
3rd person singular present and the past tense, respectively. (Here also forms like wrote,
thought, written, etc. belong, treated by some linguists as coming into existence through a
process change.) And indeed, dances/danced/dancing in She dances in a ballet group.; She

1
Not always are the bases primary verbs, e.g. skilled, or naked, viewed synchronically.

41
danced with John only.; Shes been dancing all night. are all verbs acting as syntactic
predicates. In She fell in love with a young dancing master., however, the form dancing will
hardly be described as Present Participle of DANCE but rather as (homonymous) Adjective
DANCING. The change of its syntactic category in this instance speaks in favour of treating
{ing} as a derivational morpheme.1 Past participle forms such as in heated, crowded, written,
bent, and the like, are also worth a closer inspect. Following the arguments by P.H. Matthews
(1993: 55-56), one can only with difficulty decide on one or the other category of these. If we
can rely on the casual test of very-intensifier modification, then the form heated remains the
Past Participle HEAT (since not *a very heated room but rather a well heated room is
acceptable), and crowded should be a derived Participial Adjective CROWDED (thus
allowing for a very crowded room).2 With the form written the situation is yet more blurred:
The contract was written points to the verbal status of written << WRITE, this being a
passive construction rather than the equivalent of The contract was a written one. (i.e. not
made, for instance, by word of mouth). On the other hand, its occurrence in the Attributive
position, namely as written << WRITTEN, is rather restricted: one would expect to say a
hand-written/type-written contract, not *a written contract, even though there are no verbs
*HAND-WRITE, *TYPE-WRITE. It seems useful here to apply one more factor, namely, to
consider the linguistic change: then written is diachronically based on its verbal stem,
together with others that are called Past Participles, but viewed synchronically its status can in
certain cases be arbitrarily adjectival. In other cases, like bent, it is not always certain which
category the respective forms belong to. A bent pin (to use P.H. Matthews example; op.cit.)
may be understood either (1) as a pin that has been bent (maybe on purpose, maybe
incidentally, and thus damaged and of no use) or (2) as a specific kind of pin that has a certain
shape (like we have other types of instruments, e.g. safety-pin, drawing-pin, or clasp-knife).
Most of us will probably agree upon bent in a bent pin (1) as being Participle of BEND and
thus belonging to the inflectional category. With bent in a bent pin (2) the decision is not so
unambiguous, although we would not be strictly against its Adjectival status. Moreover, there
is a genuine Adjective BENT, as in a bent copper (i.e. dishonest) or in Jim seems to be bent
on becoming a musician (i.e. determined to become). It is because here bent enters certain
types of idiomatic expressions: a bent pin (2) is felt as a more cohesive expression than a bent
pin (1), the latter being a free combination, as also are a bent nail, a broken leg, and similar.

The examples above must have shown that the decision on the inflectional or the
derivational status is not a matter of clear-cut, precisely defined boundaries. There are cases
where the shift from Participle to Adjective takes place. Minimum of morphological signals in
Modern English to show grammatical concord makes the situation less apparent than it was in
Latin and than it is in its descendant idioms. A student in Romance languages will have
noticed that in Italian and, in certain cases, in Portuguese, too, participial forms in predicate
agree with their subjects or objects, e.g. Temos ESTUDADA a lio. [i.e. We have finished
studying the lesson.]. Moreover, in Portuguese participial doublets of certain verbs appear in
one or the other form, the selection being due to the grammatical voice used in respective
cases, e.g. Tm ACEITADO tdas as nossas propostas [i.e. They have accepted all our
proposals.] versus As nossas propostas no foram ACEITAS. [i.e. Our proposals were not
accepted.]. Modern Castilian seems to be explicit enough in pointing to the participial or the
adjectival status of the predicate: preparado is Participle PREPARAR in Todas las

1
Mind the syntactic orderings and the different stress layouts within the NP to bring about different meanings: a
young dancing master vs. a dancing young master.
2
I am grateful to P. tekauer who, having read the first draft of this article, reminded me, besides others, of the
fact that the very-test would not work with many genuine adjectives (e.g. round, weekly, blind, dead) since not
all adjectives (and likewise nouns, verbs, etc.) are always carriers of characteristics of their respective class.

42
estudiantes han PREPARADO sus ejercicios. [i.e. All the (female) students have prepared
their tasks.], whereas the same form is Adjective PREPARADO, which takes on respective
inflectional morphemes to meet the requirements of concord: for instance, Todas las
estudiantes estn PREPARADAS. [i.e. All the (female) students are prepared/ready.].

It is worth of note that something similar, though only partially and without a hundred
per cent regularity, takes place in English, too. What I have in mind is some irregular verbs,
e.g. He has learnt / learned [l:nt / l:nd] vs. my learned colleagues [l:nd]; He has drunk a
few too many. vs. a drunken party; He has lit a match. | The match is lit. vs. a lighted match;
He was bereaved of all hope. | He is bereft of his senses. vs. Poor bereaved mother. Out of
others, at least the following may be taken into account, the latter in each pair being defined
as Adjective in English dictionaries: born / borne, hung / hanged, melted / molten, proved /
proven, shone / shined, shaved / shaven, shrunk / shrunken, sunk / sunken, struck / stricken,
sunburned / sunburnt.

On the other hand, the examples such as generate-generation, decide-decision, think-


thought1, respectively, will be looked upon as not only different forms but also different
naming units. This view is based on the fact that on the syntactic level the resultant complex
forms as nouns behave differently from the base morphemes as verbs. The list can be
extended by (if not all, then at least some illustrative) examples in which the affixes are
believed to be productive: cloud-cloudy, rich-enrich, warm-warmth, large-largeness,
productive-productivity, diligent-diligently, read-readable, etc. Here, too, members of the
respective pairs do not belong to the same syntactic categories, and this makes us speak in
terms of derivation. This is not always the case, though: both neighbour and neighbourhood
are nouns, and so also friend and friendship, king and kingdom; and both will perform
identical syntactic function. Yet hardly anybody would ever think in terms of inflection! Does
it mean then that all the three morphemes, i.e. {hood}, {ship}, {dom}, are derivative ones?
Such a pair as free-freedom will immediately cast doubts onto our mind. How come, one must
ask, that one and the same morpheme attached to the base brings about a change in the
syntactic characteristics of the complex form in one case (e.g. free-freedom, bore-boredom,
official-officialdom), and leaves it untouched in another case (e.g. king-kingdom, duke-
dukedom, professor-professorship)? This is something that most (English) linguists take for
granted, referring to sub-categorisation of the base through a suffix. Yet again, the idea of
less rigidly defined clear-cut categories comes to mind, as well as the risk of applying one
single criterion in absolute terms. A few more examples will demonstrate that no change in
the syntactic category takes place and yet we are sure of derivation: (to) tie-untie, happy-
unhappy, loyal-disloyal, symmetrical-asymmetrical. Willingly or unwillingly, we have to
admit that the syntactic criterion alone is not sufficient, and that its application as made so far
will not bring about satisfactory results. Therefore semantic characteristics must also be taken
into consideration.

Even a brief, momentary look into dictionaries will make us believe that
lexicographers are sure about the issues that I have been discussing. We find the forms such
as book-books or write-wrote-written2, and similar, under one entry, while divert-diversion,
happy-happily-unhappy, etc. are listed separately. There are also scholars who even think that
arguments adduced by lexicographers are something brought to us on tablets of stone; then,
no wonder, dictionaries must give unambiguous data. However, lexicographers ARE aware of
1
Here thought is a form coming into existence through a derivational process, unlike the homonymous past-
tense form.
2
Phrasal and prepositional verbs are listed separately, though.

43
those many fuzzy points; yet the purpose of a dictionary does not allow for the discussion I
am offering in the present article. An inquisitive student would certainly ask questions why,
for instance, compress-compressible-compression-compressor are listed as individual,
separate entries, whereas compressibility is marked as -bility under the entry com-pres-si-
ble.1 Does that mean that the bility is a different morpheme from, say, or? And, is the
bility a genuine morpheme at all? Linguists would rather refer to {ility} as attached to
compres-si-ble, or, to be in agreement with the general opinion, they would regard bility as
representing two derivational morphemes, i.e. {able} + {ity}. Moreover, native speakers (as
well as advanced learners) would not feel happy of not finding such a derivative (?) as
compressive. Here some dictionaries will offer more satisfactory answers:2 the bold-typed
entry compressive and the attached compressive-ly will certainly provide the consultant with
more information. Also the entry compressed listed in one but not in the other dictionary is
more illustrative and closer to the real state of matters, in the sense I tried to hint a while ago,
dealing with so-called participles. The more so, practitioners in English will be content with
finding respective words as ones truly existing in Modern English. Technical ways of listing
the respective forms in a dictionary can vary, and as it seems to me, there is no definite way,
in most of the cases, to show whether the given expression belongs to the inflectional or the
derivational category. Therefore I am reluctant to agree with such opinions as, for example,
P.H. Matthews (op.cit.: 45) takes, claiming that to say that an opposition is lexical
means that the difference is stated in the lexicon or dictionary.

Does it hold (what P.H. Matthews also claims) that an opposition is non-lexical if
its terms are in general selected by the grammar? In most cases we do find A (simplex)
and B (complex) in an inflectional opposition if the choice between them, in some instances at
least, is determined by a general grammatical rule. Languages that have a (fully) developed
inflectional system can be a good proof of that. Let us return to one of the tricky issues,
though: What about, for example, the forms hot-hotter? Is hotter a mere inflectional form of
HOT, one that we traditionally call comparative, or is it a different lexeme HOTTER? And,
as I have pointed out above, is the morpheme {er} inflectional or derivational? Originally, I
suggested that it might be a morpheme of both functions. Yet just in this point linguists
opinions differ: hot and hotter are not selected according to a grammatical rule. This is what
A. A. Hill (1958: 168 ff.) says, taking the two forms as two different lexemes, i.e. HOT, and
HOTTER. Most linguists, however, think that this opposition is a matter of inflection because
there is no indisputably simple form that can be substituted for hotter (P. H.
Matthews, op.cit.: 51). Indeed, we cannot substitute anything grammatically equivalent for
hotter; but we can easily substitute the complex automation by the simplex beer in, for
example, Automation / Beer is a good thing. But the question remains open all the same: {er}
can be shown as the morpheme performing two functions, or there may be two different
homonymous morphemes, namely {er} (exemplified by hotter) and {er/or} (as in teacher,
sailor). Specific detailed studies, for example P. tekauers (1998) onomasiological theory,
speak in favour of even more than two homonymous er morphemes!

However, my principal intention is not to discuss individual instances but rather to


grasp general trends and tendencies. And here also other arguments should be elucidated.
Most of them can be understood more easily if viewed from a historical perspective. This
does not mean only to consider, for example, the issue of the Old English phonological
sequence <ian>, namely, to try to answer the question whether this sequence was derivational

1
In the Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English. Longman Group, Ltd., 1978.
2
For instance, Websters New World Dictionary. 1989.

44
or inflectional, and why the <i> was finally lost in Middle English.1 Also such cases as
elocution must be paid attention to: namely, while linguists would take it, probably
unanimously, as a derived complex form, alongside with a great number of others of the same
type (e.g. generation, impression, diversion), the fact is that Modern English has not the
expected base *elocute in stock. And, evidently, the form elocution cannot be based on the
listed entries, such as elocutionary, elocutionalist; these themselves must be derivatives of a
shorter form, which, as we can witness, does not exist any longer. Of course, in other cases
it does exist, as in COMPUTE _ computer, computerize, computation. Moreover, semantics of
members of the pairs discussed need not be identical: suffice it to consider the meanings of,
for example, selection and election. If I may use P.H. Matthews arguments (op.cit.: 52 ff.),
selection presupposes, and in fact is, a collection of objects which will be or have been
selected, but election is not equally a collection of people who have been elected! And
indeed, the senses of verbs and their derived nouns do not always correspond precisely: while
the meaning of direct is clearly comprehensible from He was going in the opposite
direction., the phrase the salutation of officers is not at all parallel to something like You
must salute officers. Nevertheless, do we understand it in such a way that the meanings of
(derived) nouns and their (base) verbs are semantically unrelated? Of course not. But it is also
true that in a certain period of the language evolution the relationship between the noun and
its verb-base is predictable although in future that of the noun may branch out independently.
Discussing this issue we do not necessarily need to probe into such delicate cases as the status
of {-sc-}, one that is frequently used to illustrate linguistic change: students in Romance
languages will understand that the consonant group {-sc-} must have been inflectional first
(IE.*--sk-), then it became the signal of inchoative-ness (Gr./Lat. / co-gno-sc-o,
meaning I came to know), and in the end it is inflectional again (as in Sp. conozco). All
advanced learners of English will understand the meanings of, for example, intrepid [very
brave] or trepidation [apprehension] although there is no *trepid now as their base form.
They will also know what butcher is, even though the form butch, formally parallel to teach-
teacher, do-doer, and the like, has nothing to do with the common meaning2. And last but not
least, a scholar can meditate over the meanings, or over differences of meanings in such pairs
or even such concatenations of expressions as warm-warmth, idiom-idiomatic-idiomatically;
stupid-stupidity-stupidness (?); profound-profundity-profoundness, and the like.

However brief my arguments may have been, I hope to have shown that the issues
concerning what is generally referred to as derivation, by itself as well as in relation to
inflection, are not easy to tackle and brought to a definite end, unless we accept the idea of
spectrum rather than clear-cut, box-like categories.

Let us return to the problem again now, assuming that the derivational morphology
does exist, although its boundaries may be shady, and showing certain overlapping
characteristics. With reference to what I have been trying to elucidate, searching for relevant
criteria, I believe that there must be two types of derivational morphemes, namely, (1) those
that change the syntactic category of the base morpheme to which they apply (e.g. read-
readable), and (2) those that do not (e.g. do-undo). Yet it always holds that derivational
processes create new naming units, or lexical items. The criterion to supplement that of the
syntactic component involved is a semantic one: the meaning of the affix is believed to alter
or to affect the meaning of the base morpheme to a certain extent, which varies from case to
case. As for example J. L. Bybee (1985: 82) maintains, in case of verbs, it means the
1
Arguments are found in F. Colmans study, 1996.
2
Just incidentally, the homonymous butch is a slang expression, used to express that a person [a woman] shows
a lot of male tendencies.

45
extent of which the meaning of the morpheme affects the description of the situation,
and for nouns, the extent to which the meaning of the morpheme changes the
referent of the noun. And indeed, if we ask the question whether the following derived
forms differ in meaning from the base ones, we have to give a positive answer: untie is just
the opposite, distinct event as compared to tie; unhappy is not altogether the same as sad;
baker refers to a person, linguistically an agent of the activity described by the verb BAKE;
professorship denotes a status whereas professor is the bearer of the status. On the other hand,
the same type of reflections on the suffixes {ly} or {ing} would very probably make us admit
that the expected change in meaning is almost none. Namely, the quality expressed by the
adjective such as diligent will not change after -ly has been attached to produce diligently;
gerundial nominalisations in -ing, e.g. reading, can appear in syntactic positions from which
finite verbs are excluded, but they do not change the situations described by the underlying
verbs. Thus the interpretation of read in bed and reading in bed will not differ much in,
e.g., John reads in bed. and Reading in bed is fun. (J.L. Bybees examples, op.cit.: 83 ff.). By
projecting the findings on to the issue of category changes, I arrive at the following
conclusion: the derivatives which bring about a considerably different meaning will not
change their syntactic categories as compared to those of their bases (type: untie, unhappy,
professorship); and vice versa, the derivatives which add just a little or next to nothing to the
meaning of their bases will tend to change their categories (type: diligently, reading). From
the other way around, what plays a very important role in these considerations is the amount
of semantic change as made by the application of the affix to the base. We can observe that
the greater is the difference between the meaning of the derived form and the meaning of the
base, the greater is the likelihood that the affix is truly derivational. One would rather think
not in terms of two (different) types of derivational morphemes but in terms of a continuum,
which will, easily and satisfactorily enough, embrace all the complex forms discussed here
above.

It would be a plain sailing from now on if we could pronounce that the desired
continuum is extended in both directions, namely, to primary lexical units as well as to
inflected forms. And indeed, this seems possible, provided, of course, that we respect the
functioning of language in its miraculous complexity. The distinction between a primary word
and a derivative is easy to follow since either is represented in the lexicon and the meaningful
difference between them is a matter of synonymy, with all consequences involved. Thus the
derivative largeness seems to be synonymous to size, and so also unhappy and sad. The
difference, and the choice, between each two of them lies in the fact that the content of
largeness does not cover the whole content of size, and that unhappy is not altogether
identical with sad. And yet, when construing a sentence the speaker has to consider the
balance between the semantic content and the grammatical form. Namely, when the speakers
intention is not to deliberately point out the difference in meaning between the base and the
derivative, in other words, the difference which is conveyed by the affix, then the primary,
monomorphemic expression will be preferred. Therefore, e.g., size or sad, respectively, will
be the first at hand, while largeness or unhappy will be used only intentionally. We can only
marvel at the fact that syntactic categories of the derivatives will match those of the potential
monomorphemic primary lexical equivalents: both size and largeness perform the function of
nouns, and both sad and unhappy behave as adjectives. Viewed from these broader aspects, it
does not seem to be as much important to deliberately look for parallels which exist between
the amount of meaning conveyed by the affix as compared to the meaning of the sole base, on
the one hand, and the category change, on the other hand. This is not even possible, also
because we are unable to define a unit in order to measure the amounts of the meaning added.

46
Nevertheless, the idea of distinctions between respective derivational morphemes being
viewed as gradual and representing a continuum is welcomed.

What remains to discuss is the sphere of transition between derivational morphemes


and inflectional ones. Like some of the derivational morphemes, those of the type {ly} and
{ing}, inflectional morphemes add no lexical meaning to the base. In other words, while
certain morphemes add some (at least little) amount of lexical meaning and are for that reason
considered derivational, inflectional morphemes are those which leave the lexical meaning of
the base untouched. What makes it possible for them to be referred to as genuine morphemes
is the grammatical meaning they convey. Inflection, that is to say, is required by the syntax
and it is derived by rule, not in the lexicon. As L. Bloomfield (1933: 223) has it, thinking of
highly structured sets of expressions of regular patterns, inflection is characteristic of a rigid
parallelism of underlying and resultant forms. Thus, for example, nearly all nouns in
English underlie a derived plural, all verbs underlie a derived past tense, and the like. The
choice of inflectional morphemes is therefore obligatory for the speaker, which is not, in this
sense, the case of derivational morphemes. This obligatoriness is likely to be the only relevant
criterion for the possible distinguishing between inflectional and derivational morphemes.

It follows from what has been claimed that a speaker makes an arbitrary decision on
lexical meanings, first of all. And this means that derivational morphemes, if such a choice of
alternative complex forms is the speakers intention, are attached closer to the root. Only after
this decision has been made, requirements on syntax, namely the choice of appropriate
inflectional morphemes, will be satisfied, and that obligatorily. And here lie crucial points of
my way of viewing the issue, which I am now going to present as a conclusion.

I do not see any direct relationship between syntactic categories and the inflectional
and derivational categories. Changes in syntactic categories are only made within the sphere
of derivation! Or, more precisely, changes in syntactic categories are frequently made within
the sphere of derivation if the semantic difference between the given members of a
derivational paradigm is only a slight one. In other cases, namely, if the complex member of
the opposition has to be chosen, since different semantics is needed, no change of syntactic
category takes place. At least one example to either model situation will illustrate, to
supplement those I discussed above.

SEMANTICS LITTLE CHANGE FULL CHANGE


_ +

SYNTAX CHANGE NO CHANGE

e.g. idiom idiomatic friend friendship


idiomatically
idiomaticity

As I have also pointed out, we can hardly measure the amount of semantic change.
There is no unit available to tell how much friend-friendship differ as compared with friend-
friendly or friendly-unfriendly, or perhaps hot-hotter. But we somehow sense the extreme

47
values, allowing for a space in between for a cline-like continuum. With the maximum
semantic change syntactic categories have been shown as untouched; yet these may remain
the same even if the semantic difference draws to zero. If this is the case, inflectional
morphemes / morphology / categories, and the like, are referred to. Put the other way around,
certain morphemes are attached to the base not because they are required by meaning but
rather by needs of grammatical concord and government. Were it not for inflectional
languages, or should we apply a synchronic analysis to English only, the distinction between
inflectional and derivational would be of but a little use. Strictly speaking, there is hardly
any other morpheme in Modern English but {s} attached to verbs and required merely by
grammar. With others, including {s}in noun plurals, the choice may be explained as arbitrary.
Indeed, I call and I called are two different things, as well as boy and boys are two different
things, and so also the above discussed hot and hotter. Objections can be raised easily, of
course, but acceptability of this view can only hardly be denied absolutely. What I claim,
quite overtly, is the fact of a sort of fluidity between the traditionally acknowledged
inflection and derivation. I hope to have depicted the sphere of derivational morphology as a
continuum; now, in order to allow for certain universality, I do not turn down the existence of
inflection, but, at the same time, I propose projection of the continuum on to the inflectional
morphology.

INFLECTIONAL

DERIVATIONAL

SEMANTICS +
BASE
SYNTAX +

This approach will lift from us the burden of a precise defining of respective morphemes and
makes it easier to treat such (specific, debatable) cases as I exemplified, be it {ing}, {ed},
{er/or}, {ly}, or {dom} complex words.

-o0o-

48
INFLECTIONAL AND / OR DERIVATIONAL MORPHOLOGY
(A handout)

1. mons / montem, amo / amavit, cloud / clouds;


erogo / erogatio, cloud / cloudy, rich / enrich

2. big + er X teach + er

3. ing , ed : She has been dancing all night. She fell in love with a young dancing master.
It was a very crowded room that we entered. a well heated

4. written  write; a written contract ?? type- / hand-written

5. a bent1 pin  part. BEND


a bent2 pin  adj. BENT ??
a bent3 copper  adj. BENT
Jim seems to be BENT on becoming a musician.

6. Temos estudada a li ao. Tem aceitado todas as nossas propostas. As nossas propostas nao
foram aceitas.
Todas las estudiantes han preparado sus ejercicios. Todas las estaudiantes estn preparadas.

7. learnt / learned [-t, -d] : learned [-id]


drunk / drunken, lit / lighted, bereft / bereaved, shaved / shaven

8. generate > generation, cloud > cloudy, warm > warmth

9. neighbour > neighbourhood, friend > friendship, king > kingdom


tie > untie, happy > unhappy, symmetrical > asymmetrical

10. compress, compressible, compression, compressor compressibility


bility = able + ity
compressive, compressed.

11. hot, hotter = HOT, HOTTER


Automation / Beer is a good thing. er1 , er/ or2 hotter : teacher, sailor

12. elocution  *elocute ?? (generation, impression)


compute  computer, computerize, computation

13. selection / election


direct: He was going in the opposite direction.
The salutation of officers X You must salute officers.

14. butcher ( ?? butch), intrepid ( *trepid)

15. read readable X do undo


untie tie, unhappy sad, baker bake

16. diligent diligently

49
John reads in bed. - Reading in bed is fun.

17. untie, unhappy, professorship


diligently, reading

18. largeness size; unhappy sad

SEMANTICS LITTLE CHANGE FULL CHANGE


_ +

SYNTAX CHANGE NO CHANGE

e.g. idiom idiomatic friend friendship


idiomatically
idiomaticity

INFLECTIONAL

DERIVATIONAL

SEMANTICS +
BASE
SYNTAX +

References:
Bloomfield, Leonard (193): Language. New York. Holt, Rinehart and Winston.
Bybee, Joan L. (1985): Morphology: A study of the relation between meaning and form. John Benjamins
Publishing Company. Amsterdam / Philadelphia.
Colman, Fran (1996): Morphology: Old and Middle English derivational and inflectional. IN: Middle English
Miscellany. Ed. Jacek Fisiak, Motivex, Pozna, pp.3-28.
Hill, Archibald Anderson (1958): Introduction to Linguistic Structures. Harcourt, Brace & World. New York.
Kavka, Stanislav (2000): Some Hints on the Importance of Teaching Idiomaticity. IN: Studia Anglica
Posnaniensia, 35. Ed. Jacek Fisiak, UAM, Pozna, pp.205- 216.
Matthews, Peter H. (1993): Morphology. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge.
Russell, K. (1998): Optimality Theory and Morphology. IN: Optimality Theory: An Overview. Ed.
D.Archangeli- D.T.Langendoen. Blackwell Publishers, Ltd., pp.102-133.
tekauer, Pavol (1998): An Onomasiological Theory of English Word-Formation. Amsterdam / Philadelphia:
John Benjamins.
-O0O-

50
[6]
IDIOMATIC STATUS OF COMPOUNDS.

Someone once wrote to say, and I am almost certain it was U.Weinreich, that
idiomaticity was important for that reason, if for no other, that there was so much of it in
every language. If he meant idiomaticity in the broader sense of the term or whether he had
in mind those typical lexical-type expressions referred to as idioms is equally important for
us in order to attest the truthfulness of his remark. Let us admit that we are able to define
precisely what an idiom actually is; then some come to a rough figure of 4,500 in the present-
day English word-stock. The number of compounds, too, is surprising! There is, with all
probability, no informed guess, yet it will do to open a dictionary on any page. For instance,
the entry HOUSE is used in no less than 45 units which are generally called compounds, and
almost the same number of these appear with the entry LONG. Is it because compounds
represent basic words? Yes, this can also be a good reason; moreover, it is the very same
reason that we find in idiomatic expressions. Genuine idioms and collocations, too, are
characteristic of being composed of elements, say, words, of general vocabulary, very often
having homey flavour. This, of course, is a superficial lay view, and our task will be to look
for certain argument based on psycholinguistic grounds.

A compound is generally regarded as a minimal idiom, or better: a minimal


idiomatic expression, be it an idiom proper or a (habitual) collocation. The following sentence
(1), if judged from the structurally and functionally oriented point of view, can be looked
upon as a double-layer idiomatic expression:

(1) Keep your nose to the grindstone.

The meaning of the whole utterance is certainly figurative, namely, try and try
again. The minimal idiomatic unit is GRINDSTONE, and we shall all agree that its meaning
cannot well be explained literally as stone=disk of hard material used to sharpen utensils.
Moreover, the very figurativeness of this compound (?) makes us read the whole utterance
in a figurative way. Its literal interpretation would imply a drastic plastic surgery, which, of
course, is possible, yet less probable and less acceptable. Honestly, however, many idiomatic
expressions DO have both literal and figurative interpretations. Before we analyse such
examples, besides others, let us try to define the notion of compound, if ever possible,
referring to ideas of some renowned authorities.

-o0o-

Students trained in grammar will easily understand the difference of syntactic and
determinative relations within the following NPs:

(2) small shrewd blue eyes;


(3) green-painted front door,

namely,
small shrewd blue eyes green-painted front door

51
English students will notice the way of orthography, namely, the hyphen as used in
green-painted, and they will come to believe that this is the right way of spelling compounds.
Only later will they learn that compounds can be spelt solid as well as two or more separate
words. And here we can ask a question whether front door could well be claimed a
compound, and so also even blue eyes. That is to say, very often we pronounce these phrases
automatically, likewise we say automatically, for instance, dining-room, or blue joke. This
is nothing to be taken for granted by a linguist: sometimes we have to opt for the ordering of
attributive elements within the NP, sometimes we have to decide on an idiomatically
acceptable additional lexical determination, namely, on variability. Let us consider the
following phrases, our evaluation being based on retrospective judgements:

(4) front green-painted door / green-painted wooden front door / green-painted front
wooden door, etc.;
small blue shrewd eyes / shrewd blue small eyes, etc.

Without much comment, we shall come to agree on the fact that front door makes up a
closer meaningful, semantic unit than green door or, perhaps, wooden door, also because in
British homes front door and back door (and also front/back garden) represent certain,
typical notions of everyday life. Linguistically, if I refer to front door as a compound, this
classification is only mine, and I have reasons of my own to argue for one. It is here that the
idea of continua, or gradients, rather than that of sharply defined categories seems to be
attractive and fairly acceptable. Nevertheless, if we tend to trust the way of spelling, we must
very soon come to a realisation that there is a lot of hesitancy and vacillation, not only as far
as the formal classification is concerned but also according to what respective dictionaries
offer. Having checked about a hundred randomly chosen compounds in the lists compiled
since the times of L.Bloomfield and O.Jespersen up to the present days, and consulting the
respective items in various dictionaries, we shall probably fail to find satisfactorily defined
rules or regulations in spelling. The wobbliness can be illustrated, for instance, in

(5) flashing point / flashing-point / flash point / flashpoint;


drawing room / drawing-room.

However, why do we come across looking-glass, if its grammatical structure is identical with
drawing room, and why do we spell bedroom as a solid word only, unlike the hyphenated or
separate spelling of living-room / living room? No wonder that some linguists do not mention
the spelling of compounds at all, and that others reject the orthographic criteria explicitly
(H.Marchand 1969: 21); while still others, on the contrary, rely on the way of spelling of so-
called compounds and regard it as a distinguishing criterion (W.J.Meys 1975: 84; I.V.Arnold
1973: 65)! Nevertheless, there exist certain tendencies, based on the fact of a degree of unity
of lexical-grammatical components of compound, namely, in its essential characteristic,
which we will comment upon later.1 It is certain that native speakers / writers can sense that
degree, and that they are able to judge the function of the symbol we refer to as hyphen: its
function is to divide and simultaneously to link. Here are a few simple, evident examples
to illustrate:

(6) [All lights went out, and] entering the dark room, Ann felt scared.
(7) He emerged from the darkroom showing the photo we needed.

1
It is fair to say that modern dictionaries list only non-hyphenated forms of looking glass, living room, following
the regular lexicographic practice of today, which allows for using the hyphen in certain types of compounds
only, such as ing/-ed or N+Adj forms, e.g., free-standing, green-painted, snow-cold.

52
(8) He was standing knee-deep in the water.

Here belongs the above-mentioned example, namely,

(9) He remained standing by the green-painted front door.,

which R.W.Zandvoort and O.Jespersen would, very probably, have rendered a syntactic
conversion out of the underlying structure the front door was painted green.

Let us add two illustrations more, namely,

(10) [easy] front-door access to the manor;


(11) dead letter : dead-letter office,

and perhaps also the cases of attributive complexes, differentiated by means of the hyphen
symbol:
(12) dirty-clothes basket : dirty clothes(-)basket.

It seems, too, that the way of spelling reflects the writers awareness of (un)familiarity
of the respective potential compound. For instance, blackboard as a referent to the classical
teaching aid is listed in modern dictionaries together with white-board, the latter being spelt
with a hyphen.
And, finally, there is a strong tendency towards solid-spelt units, provided we do not
find any specific reason to imply a degree of meaningful change from computation of
meanings of respective components to the total meaning of the whole expression. This
happens generally with such types of compounds, the components of which are primary
substantives, or, respectively, and very frequently, if the primary substantive is the head noun
of the compound, for instance:

(13) sunrise, goldfish, cupboard (vs. silver-fox, cow elephant)


blackbird, shorthand (vs. first night)
drawbridge, pickpocket, playground (vs. looking-glass)
overcoat, offshoot, outlook (vs. by-way).

On the other hand, the adjectival base of a potential compound seems to emphasise,
graphically, the independence of the compounds respective components, e.g.,

(14) blood-red, snow-cold, colour-blind (vs. waterproof)


bitter-sweet, dark-blue, Anglo-Saxon
over-sensitive, under-ripe, all-important (vs. evergreen).

Although novices in English linguistics may be worried with the spelling, far more
important is the pronunciation. The orthography is nothing but the reflection of pronunciation,
an imperfect reflection! Referring to pronunciation, it is intonation contours that we have in
mind, namely, the stress position, and hence the compression and occasional other changes
within unstressed syllables. Right was Z.Harris to claim that the elements of a compound
were linked with one strong (primary) stress or that they had the level stress, for instance,
goldfish, common sense. The alternative of the level stress causes difficulties, though:
namely, loose syntactic combinations, too, can have the level stress, e.g., black bird

53
(versus: blackbird), and similarly, dark/room, dark/horse, etc.1 L.Bloomfield, and also
H.A.Gleason, must have been more correct to argue that compounds were characteristic of
only one common stress. Then it is possible for us to distinguish identical combinations of
lexical components as genuine compounds from those that are free combinations of a NPs
components. However, the problem is not solved completely: Are the following units
compounds?

(15) fellow-man; public school; common sense.

Language undergoes changes, though, and L. Bloomfield knew well that to refuse the
level stress was not the same thing as to leave one of the components unstressed. And indeed,
the strength of stress in respective components varies: suffices to listen carefully to

(16) common sense; common law; first night; young lady; thunderstruck, etc.,

even though they are not subject to the law of rhythm, as in Shes fifteen years old, or as in
cases of so-called string compounds, e.g. bread and butter letter; dead-letter office;
penny-in-the-slot machine, etc. Nevertheless, the intonation contours score a change in
diachronic perspective: thus O.Jespersen, in his effort to name certain cardinal moments of
development of prospective compounds, speaks of old, original compounds, recent
compounds, and loose collocations, and V.Mathesius refers to sloeniny, souslov, and
sdrueniny, respectively. Hence it follows that in the course of time, any free combination of
two or more elements can become a fixed combination. As far as stress contours are
concerned, original compounds are characteristic of one unifying stress (and are spelt solid),
while Jespersens loose collocations,2 namely, compound candidates gradually lose their level
stress, being signalled by alternation of primary and secondary stress. The following chart is
meant to illustrate the implied idea of continua, or fuzziness:

(loose)collocations recent compounds fixed compounds3

London buses blackbird


Monday
stone wall >> > stonewall gospel
country town >>> country town

home-made
archbishop
head-master
dead letter cutthroat
dark horse >>> dark horse
dark room >>> darkroom

1
In casual speech, however, attributive components usually have a weaker stress; thus free combinations
black bird, or dark room, as in (6) above, will sound more natural.
2
Jespersens term collocation should not be interpreted too straightforwardly in its modern sense, i.e. as an
idiomatic syntagma.
3
Our fixed compounds category is broad enough to cover also truly original compounds, demotivated as they
are, e.g., Monday, gospel, etc., whose composition is opaque to ordinary speakers.

54
However, the reflection of awareness of the respective new complex into its phonetic
structure is by no means straightforward, and it is liable to much subjectivity. Reasons can be
looked for in prosody, very often also in the change of meaning. In any case, the complex we
tend to call compound will, indeed, be characteristic of one primary stress. Yet which of the
components is the carrier of the stress cannot always be anticipated; the only comment we can
make upon the issue is, logically enough, that the stress will be laid on the element which
conveys the higher degree of communicative value. Thus, for instance, not every bridge is
designed for pedestrians but only footbridge.1 Moreover, there is a strong tendency to posit
the stress initially, irrespective the fact of competing communicative values, e.g., hand-
made. For this reason and many others we are tempted to leave the formal criteria and turn
back to semantics.

O.Jespersens notoriously well-known definition of compound as a unit the meaning


of which cannot well be deduced from the meanings of its respective parts is acceptable in
most cases, yet not generally. It falls short if applied rigorously on such expressions as white-
aproned; Anglo-Saxon; woodfire; black-and-white, etc., which by no means are viewed as
compounds, and yet any speaker of English is able to comprehend their meanings as a total
sum of meanings of their components. R.W.Zandvoort wrote to say that each of the
components could be well used as an independent word. Hence we would rightly assume that
the overall meaning of a compound is computation of meanings of its parts. Are the two views
contradictory? And is B.Trnka right to maintain that the meaning indivisibility is the only
reliable criterion to define what is or is not a compound? The fact of indivisibility of an
expression is not identical either with the fact of its compositionality, or, occasionally, with
the fact of recognition of the total meaning as based on the speakers knowledge of meanings
of its respective components. This, of course, need not be a process of the very computation
of those individual meanings. These and similar observations are worth some comment

It is true that some components of a potential or genuine compound do not exist


independently, no matter if we probe into their meaning in a lexical or a grammatical sense.
Here we are driving at the fact that some compounds remind us of expressions which came
into existence through the process of derivation, and we also have in mind the exception of
sandhi type, such as Anglo-; serio-; speedo-, etc. Nevertheless, English speakers are able to
recognise their meaning, all the same (!): it is easy to perceive the independence of parts in
black-and-white; bitter-sweet; lifelong; life boat, regardless their pronunciation and spelling.
On the other hand, those who were not trained in linguistics would very probably find it
difficult to regard as compounds, for example, cupboard; boatswain; shepherd, etc., in which
awareness of their components is screened in pronunciation, or in spelling, or in both. The
situation is more complicated, still. In the following examples, the respective components DO
exist as independent units (entries) of the English lexicon, but their fusion into the unit we call
compound does not necessarily have to lead towards computation of the total meaning. In
other words, the total meaning is not COMPOSITIONAL! The classical prototype black+bird
does not always refer to any bird of black feather but rather to a species that is called Turdus
merula by ornithologists, and which is named in other languages by one-word expressions,

1
This tendency is strong enough in N+A compounds, and also in N+A ones (seasick); verbal compounds are
less transparent, yet it seems that the functional component will be the compounds finite form (upset), unless
those verbal compounds come into existence through back-formation (typewrite); in compounds containing
participial forms the decisive factor seems to be their prevailing nominal or verbal function (outlying;
widespread vs. all-seeing; hand-made).

55
e.g., kos; Amsel; merle; mirlo.1 The list could be extended by such expressions as
white+house; dark+room; grey+beard; dead+letter. Users of English, however, will have to
be au fait with the Anglo-Saxon world in order to understand the metonymy of The White
House, and they have to have in their mental lexicon specific idiomatic expressions in order to
understand that darkroom is a kind of lab to process films, that greybeard does not only refer,
synonymically, to an old man, implying a wise one, but, perhaps historically, is an
idiomatic referent to a vessel to store wine, and that dead letter is a figure to describe
outdated practices (besides the more or less anticipated guess of the dead letter as the letter
which cannot find its addressee). These and similar examples may seem but marginal (which
is not true), yet there are quite a few more recent expressions, more frequently used:

(17) dead+lock is, literally, a type of universal lock, but also, understood figuratively,
disagreement which cannot be settled;

flash+point has much to do with physics, namely, the temperature at which a gas
will make a small flash, without catching fire, but also a moment at which one
cannot hold back his tension or rage and bursts out. (He gets hot under the
collar and then hits the ceiling.)

outlook is used spontaneously to mean, figuratively, what we expect in future


rather than, literally, a look out of the window/terrace, and the like.

by-way is expectedly (namely, it is predictable) to denote a beltway for drivers,


but also unexplored field, and, according to some dictionaries, even feeble
activities(?).

Hence it follows that the units referred to generally as compounds represent a full
scale of expressions whose meanings can be computed from the meanings of their parts
(components, elements, constituents), either directly, straightforwardly, or via a simple
metaphor, or through metaphors called underlying or root metaphors. There is, of course,
a large number of cases when one and the same multiword expression travels, as it were,
across and over all the possibilities on the scale. The following chart is to illustrate:

daybreak dead letter


drawbridge greybeard
Anglo-Saxon flashpoint
etc. deadlock
darkroom
grindstone
dark horse
stone wall

However, where shall we place the original compounds Monday, gospel, shepherd,
forehead, etc.? Let us admit that linguists as experts are able to see a computation of
components respective meanings in them, and so these can be added to the list already

1
In some languages, however, the name of this bird species is also a compound word, referring to the thrust
family of fowl, for instance, Sw. koltrast (=a thrust black as coal) or R. (=a black thrust).

56
containing daybreak; drawbridge, and similar. Nevertheless, even if we leave these apart, as
old compounds, all other compounds possible will be free, rather than fixed, which is to
mean that their components are discernible. A better solution will be one offered by
L.Bloomfield: namely, so-called syntactic compounds, or composites, make up classes which
are parallel to syntactic phrases, e.g. shorthand; blackbird; man-of-war, and their counterpart
will be, quite expectedly, asyntactic composites, e.g. door-knob; apple-tree; bulldog.
However, this criterion does not solve the problem of the total meaning; it is rather a criterion
of formal classification, although it pretends to be a semantic one. We cannot deny that, as
L.Bloomfield has it, bull in the compound bulldog does not mean literally bull but rather
like a bull looking, and hence the meaning of bulldog is not predictable. (And the same can
be said about such composites as horse-fly; stone-fly; stone-fish, etc.) Yet apple-tree, for
example, and similarly playground or drive-away, are asyntactic combinations, too, in spite of
the fact that their total meanings are conveyed through quite a simple computation of their
components meanings. On the other hand, the truly syntactic composites greybeard;
darkroom; dark horse; dead letter do not seem to be predictable enough. We have to admit
that the postulated classification of syntactic vs. asyntactic compounds is difficult to
defend.1 Therefore a more satisfactory solution will, hopefully, be found in the sphere of
psycholinguistics.

The term predictable, predictability is a commonplace for psycholinguists, but it


needs to be specified more closely for traditional linguists. Applied to the issue of
compounds, we have to be aware of the fact that the compositionality of compounds (hence
their name!) does not repose straightforwardly on their predictability. If we speak of
compositionality, what we have in mind is a fine network of interrelations, both grammatical
and semantic, and not only a simple matching of two or more lexically-grammatical units,
along the lines of the traditional definition of compound. We can imagine that compounds are
more or less compositional, and moreover, that their predictability is not always
proportional directly to compositionality. Namely, predictability will depend also on other
moments, as is context, from one side, and familiarity of use, from the other side, and also
frequency of use of the expression, its fixation in the stock of vocabulary, even its triteness
all these being criteria for what we refer to as conventionality.

As shown elsewhere2, the notion of compositionality is a complex one, and it is filled


with capacity of variability (or flexibility) and also with the fact of either literal or
figurative meaning of the whole. The two sides have much in common; they come into
complex relations, which can be depicted, schematically, as follows:

COMPOSITIONALITY

VARIABILITY + LITERALNESS

literal non-literal figurative


LEXICAL + GRAMMATICAL

1
L.Bloomfield himself works with the class of semi-syntactic compounds, in order to render the cases when
the respective compound differs from a potential nominal phrase (Jespersens junction) by means of more than
one relevant feature (in his terminology: immediate constituent). What he seems to have in mind is not only the
stress but also the word-order, e.g. to housekeep < to keep (a) house.
2
Kavka, S.(2001). See References.

57
As for variability, the situation seems to be fairly simple. The above-mentioned a
green-painted front door can only hardly be altered syntactically; and, if the expressions
green-painted and front door are true compounds, an occasional attributive determination will
affect the NP as a whole rather than one or the other component. In other words, possible
determination, if any at all, will be external. More vivid, however, are the composites
compounded out of more than two elements, and also are the composites referred to as
concatenated ones: syntactic transformations are practically excluded altogether, and syntactic
permutations may only occasionally occur, namely, if the compounds components are
ordered in a copulative way, e.g.,

(18) happy-go-lucky; kitchen cum scullery; dead-letter office;


bread and butter vs. butter and bread (?)

The issue of variability is worth more comment, though. Within a NP, two or more
attributes can be in a syntactic and semantic relation towards the head N, and due to the
linear character of speech, the attributes have to appear in a certain order. It was made clear
elsewhere1 that the degree of compactness of the given attribute with its N, on one side,
and its position proper within the NP, on the other side, are interdependent phenomena. It
holds that the more compact the relation is, the closer is the position of the attribute towards
the N. Namely, the attributes of one and the same NP move along a scale of onomasticity,
and the whole semantico-syntactic matter is subject to what is called onomasticity
distribution principle. Just the very principle is to express a degree of naming value between
the respective attribute and its N. It is evident that the lowest degree of onomasticity exists
between the Determiner and the N, while the highest degree is felt in attribute-N units which
we rightly call naming units. Thus we can claim that a compound is just the attribute+N
unit which complies with the onomasticity distribution principle in that the degree of
onomasticity is sensed as the highest. The advantage of this approach can be seen in that
English compounds are not treated as isolated phenomena of the English grammar or perhaps
as fixed lexical units of the lexicon but rather as parts of concrete, contextually defined
utterances. Hence we can imagine that two semantic kernels (namely, primarily independent
meaningful units) in their relation of determination can represent a compound in one case,
while a free combination in another case. Thus the following two illustrative NPs convey
different meanings:

a BABY BLACK BIRD


BLACK BABY BIRD

And similarly, in

(19) a young modern English lady / modern English young lady; an old handsome
fellow / a handsome old fellow; burnt-out peasants hovels / peasants burnt-out hovels.

It is important to realise that invariability is a significant criterion to define a


compound, but it is not the only one to claim for the status of compound beyond the given
context. Thus we have the genuine compound blackbird, respectively also baby-bird, and on
the other hand, the hardly acceptable *thewhite pea in the context the sweet white pea

1
Kavka, S. (1980). See References.

58
(instead the expected the white sweet pea), and somewhere in the middle also front door.
Should we call the latter a compound, pondering over such variants as wooden front door vs.
front wooden door? In other words: are these phrases compositional? The question which is
seemingly paradoxical! However, if compositionality is a resultant of complex interplay of
variability and literalness, then compounds by definition invariable cannot well be
compositional. There is another side of the phenomenon, though: supposing the potential
compound is non-compositional, it cannot be read literally. This, of course, is a very rigid
requirement, and therefore some linguists rank compounds not among idioms or collocations
but rather as the category of so-called cross-cutting terms. The implicit supposition is that at
least one of possible interpretations will be non-literal, or figurative. Examples of prototypical
character are lady-killer; alligator shoes; woman doctor. In order to extend the spectrum of
compounds we need to explain the content of the notion literalness.

What is meant by literalness or literal? First of all, being literal [ie.


interpretation] does not imply straightforwardly the idea of opposition (or, perhaps,
dichotomy) concrete abstract. For example, blackbird is undoubtedly a concrete physical
phenomenon, and so also is blackshirt, relating metaphorically to a member of a certain
organisation. Hence we could ask a question whether literalness was to be understood as the
opposition to figurativeness. This view is, indeed, acceptable for us fairly well if we think of
units such as the above-mentioned blackshirt, or greybeard. Yet there are a great number of
compounds the meaning of which is both literal and figurative, e.g., by-way; flashpoint.
Similarly, playground would rarely be read figuratively at first hearing it, and yet it is
generally accepted as a compound; likewise, nobody will object to front door being called a
compound. An explanation can, indeed, be found if we trust the principle of continuouness of
phenomena, as illustrated in this wheel chart:

It follows from the chart that the given expression can be limited in its variability, and,
simultaneously, it can be less literal than another expression. Viewed synchronically,
expressions can be literal, non-literal or semi-literal, and many of them are both literal and
figurative. As the time passes, the given literal expression can become fixed, consequently it
will be less variable, and hence sometimes also figurative in its meaning. We can imagine that
the new expression, namely, a concatenation of primarily independent expressions, travels, as
it were, along the scale of literalness. On its way, its total meaning departs from the original

59
assumed computation of meanings of its components. For instance, red carpet seems to be
somewhere half-way towards the state which we could describe as non-literal +
invariable: therefore native English speakers will accept, for instance,

(20) He was given a red carpet welcome

as idiomatic, and in this context and in this very meaning the combination red carpet can be
regarded as a compound. If compositionality is understood as a complex and continual
interrelation of variability and literalness, compounds will be such combinations which are
not compositional, perhaps because they are basically invariable1. The example red carpet fits
the postulate all right, and so also does the above-mentioned The White House. If the
combination white+house is used to denote the US Presidents seat, its literalness is
narrowed, hence also its variability is limited (we cannot accept *very white or *snow-white),
and the whole expression will be rendered non-compositionally (or, perhaps, semi-
compositionally, since reference to the colour of the building is fairly distinct).

What is meant by compositionality from the psycholinguistic point of view? Briefly,


it a very complex phenomenon, whose common denominator is a certain reference to the
semantic unity. This claimed unity is achieved through a process which is called assemblage
of roots. It should be borne in mind that the term roots refers clearly and undoubtedly to
the sphere of semantics, not to the sphere of lexical expressions. This fact becomes evident
once we begin to investigate the very process of computation of the given expression, and the
process of comprehension, too. It is the process of so-called cumulative association,
namely, cumulative association of those semantic roots. This is fairly comprehensible if we
think of combinations such as wooden door; green grass, and similar. However, what makes
it possible for the speaker to understand expressions of the type

(21) playground; pen-knife; life boat; deadlock; greybeard ?

The very basic precondition is the same as in free combinations, namely, as far as the
process of assemblage of roots is concerned. Yet the course proper of the association is not
always a cumulative one straightforwardly. What plays its role here is predictability, the
notion used frequently when issues of understanding idioms are discussed. On this spot, we
must be more specific and state that the content of the notion predictability gives answers to
two kinds of questions: first, whether components of the expression add to its total meaning,
and second, provided that the former answer is positive, how they add. Namely, not always do
we encounter the truly straightforward cumulative association but rather we have to render
more or less transparent metaphorical processes. Suffice it to compare, for instance,
playground life boat greybeard. And there is one more aspect that we should take into
account: predictability encompasses also linguistic competence of the speaker. This is very
often rather a subjective matter, yet relevant enough. Disregarding the extreme case when
speakers may be ignorant of the expression, we have to admit that their ability to process the
expression will differ. Here one more point must be stressed; namely, compositionality and
predictability are not synonymous notions! At first and only first sight, the cumulative aspect
DOES set the fact of compositionality, and hence also, and expectedly, the fact of
predictability. However, this does not mean that non-compositional expressions are, by this
token, non-predictable. If we accept the idea claiming that the common characteristic of
English compounds is their non-compositionality, we have to also admit that many

1
Compounds can be predictable, though! See further.

60
compounds are fairly predictable. The following paragraphs will discuss a few prototypes to
illustrate the complexity of the compositionality phenomenon, also in the sense of gradual and
continual (and continuous?) character of the properties involved.

The expressions stone wall; alligator shoe; and lady-killer seem to belong to the same
category, and yet we would rank the former two and the third one on the opposite ends of the
spectrum of compositionality. Their variability draws to zero, but their literalness shows
different degrees. Out of context, the components wall and shoe can be treated as literal,
unlike killer; to convey such a truly literal meaning of the latter is not our intention. The
semantically referential first components will, with all probability, be interpreted literally in
the case stone, and hence the whole expression stone wall will be considered as compositional
and its meaning predictable. The component alligator can also be understood literally if it
refers to material (although not in such a direct way as in stone), and therefore we can think in
terms of cumulative associations, too. In the third case, however, the component lady does not
refer literally to a concrete woman, and hence the whole unit lady-killer is hardly
compositional. The question is whether all the three (grammatical) NPs can rightly be called
compounds. Namely, if (1) each component holds on to its primary lexical meaning, i.e. the
meaning we judge as literal, and if (2) the total meaning is given through computation of
meanings of the respective components, i.e. if the expression is compositional, hence also
predictable, we tend to think in terms of free combination rather than compound. This is what
may be said about stone wall. Following the onomasticity distribution principle, however, we
will not object to the expression being a compound, due to its contextual position in, e.g.,

(22) [He had] a high stone wall [erected round his garden].

Here the unit stone wall is indivisible, but it does not necessarily mean that it is non-
compositional. Very probably, stone wall represents a prototype of compound which borders
on free combination; or, from the other way around, it may be regarded as a free combination
which shows significant characteristics of a genuine compound. However, and this is a
decisive postulate, in a different context wall can be understood figuratively: one can erect a
wall around ones conviction, and it can also be difficult to overcome such a wall built
out of rejection or evasive reactions. Here the component wall does not refer literally to
material but metaphorically to hardness, firmness or coldness. In modern English, the
expression stonewall seems to be preferred in its verbal use, yet it is non-compositional in any
case and its predictability presupposes awareness of metaphorical figures. These are good
reasons to claim for its being called a compound, like the above-mentioned lady-killer. As for
alligator shoe, it behaves compositionally in a certain literal context, although the reference to
material by means of the component alligator is not as straightforward as that of the
component stone. Hence it follows that within the spectrum the expression alligator shoe
should be placed farther from the category of free combinations than the truly literal stone
wall of its cumulative predictable meaning. However, like stonewall, alligator shoe, too, can
be viewed as a non-compositional unit, or better, a partially compositional one, namely, the
unit which the advocates of so-called Decompositional Hypothesis would categorise as
abnormally decomposable. Namely, predictability of the expression alligator shoe is based
on the underlying metaphorical concept depicted as SHOE=OPEN MOUTH OF
PREDATOR.

Similarly, we can consider other expressions, including those mentioned in (21) above,
mainly playground; life-boat; greybeard. All the three are non-compositional, although
greybeard seems to represent a cumulative computation of its total meaning. The expression

61
playground is more literal than life-boat, though; hence we believe in its higher degree of
predictability. Playground draws nearer to the free-combination category, as it were, like the
truly literal stone wall, but its naming value is expressed by a higher degree of indivisibility.
What it refers to is literally a ground to play on (as the possible playing field), whereas life-
boat does not mean anything like living boat but unambiguously a boat used to safe ones
life. Likewise, the expression sweet-shop is not compositional (its meaning being perhaps
mistakenly processed as a cumulative literal interpretation *a shop which is sweet), but it is
still predictable to read rightly as a shop where sweets are served. And finally, the
expression greybeard becomes non-compositional due to the figurative reference to a person,
and its meaning is only predictable through the underlying (root) metaphorical concept
GREY BEARD=CHARACTERISTIC FEATURE OF AN OLD MAN. Other compounds of
this kind are, for example,

(23) highbrow; blockhead; lazy-bones; pickpocket; blue-bell,


the last one being a referent to a flower.

Very interesting are the expressions country music; country house; country club, and
the like. Native speakers will not take them as free combinations but rather as compounds.
And yet they remind us of the former: namely, they are compositional; their total meaning can
be processed as a cumulative of respective literal meanings of the components. However, the
expected predictability encompasses in itself a certain moment of linguistic competence,
which we could describe in terms of semantic componential analysis: Country house is not
only a dwelling place built outside town, i.e. in the country, but (according to dictionaries) it
implies also a larger building, often having a historical value and being open to public.
Similarly, country music (equivalent to country [and] western) does not refer to a kind of
tunes performed by village folk but rather to a very specific genre typical of the south and
west of the United States. Finally, country club, too, offers more information than that about
the place where such clubs are run; we understand that one must be wealthy enough to be a
member of a country club!

As pointed here-above, the decision on either literal or figurative reading is based, in


principle, on the context in which the expression is used. The illustrative examples shown
here above are red carpet; white house; and perhaps also dark horse. Also woman doctor
presupposes a sufficiently large context or consituation. If a wife in the family way tells her
beloved husband that she is seeing her woman doctor the next day, either party will
understand very well the expected meaning gynaecologist, even if the stress contour were
not observed properly or were misheard. One more example is added now in order to point to
the role of context: the expression red tape will be interpreted literally in (24a) and
figuratively in (24b).

(24a) A red tape rather than a black one would be better to insulate the wire with for
people to take care.
(24b) Before we finally started reconstructing our country house, we had to cut
through the red tape of all sorts of regulations.

According to the proposed onomasticity distribution principle the expression red tape will be
regarded as a compound, in either context. The degree of compositionality, however, will be
different to a great extent, since the variability in the respective situations (contexts) differs.
In (24b) nothing like the plural red tapes can be used, nor the modified the red tiresome
tape (but only the tiresome red tape); in (24a), on the other hand, both grammatical and

62
lexical modifications are allowed, for instance, red tapes or a red sticky tape.
Nevertheless, in our conception, the combination sticky tape, and no longer red tape, will
then be referred to as a (new) compound, being synonymous to adhesive / Scotch tape.

One more example is to promote the idea, also outlined here above, claiming that any
free combination, whose meaning is computed, hence a compositional one and easily
predictable from the beginning, can become a good candidate of compound, namely an
expression, the meaning of which is less compositional or definitely non-compositional, yet
very often predictable, and representing an indivisible unit. Thus blue story is non-
compositional, and its figurative meaning is believed to be only partially predictable.
Conceptual relations within the semantic fields BLUE COLOUR <> IMPROPER
BEHAVIOUR / NASTY TALK, and similar, are but historical, to such an extent that we
may render it an easier task to refer to arbitrariness rather than to conventionality of figurative
meanings. By the way, we can only hardly imagine a context in which the expression blue
story should have any reasonable literal interpretation. Unlike blue story, blue hotel will, very
probably and expectedly, appear in the context which determines its interpretation as literal
(namely, a hotel of blue-painted facade or blue-coloured interior). Another context,
however, may offer a figurative, idiomatic reading, the same as we sense in blue story, or
perhaps through another conceptual underlying metaphor also in the sense gloomy;
depressing. Should this be the situation, and hence the figurative interpretations accepted
(conventionally) by most native speakers, potential variability would, of course, be next to
nothing. Yet again, admitting for the idea of continua, we can restart meditating over a
possible (at least) syntactic variability. Namely, a blue seaside hotel will very probably be
interpreted literally, with the expressions seaside and seaside hotel, respectively, being called
compounds. Hence the occasional figurative reading, i.e. in the sense nasty / gloomy hotel
[located] at the seashore, should be expected to process as a seaside blue hotel, where the
junction <blue hotel> were rendered a new compound according to the onomasticity
distribution principle. However, this suggested attributive string, i.e. a seaside blue hotel, will
work well definitely, and idiomatically, only after the figurative meaning of blue in this very
phrase has been conventionalised. In the transitory period, however, the wording a blue
seaside hotel will offer equally both literal and figurative interpretations.
-o0o-

63
Idiomatic Status of COMPOUNDS.
(A handout)

(1) Keep your nose to the grindstone.


(2) small shrewd blue eyes;
(3) green-painted front door,

small shrewd blue eyes green-painted front door

(4) front green-painted door / green-painted wooden front door / green-painted front
wooden door, etc.;
small blue shrewd eyes / shrewd blue small eyes, etc.
(5) flashing point / flashing-point / flash point / flashpoint;
drawing room / drawing-room
(6) [All lights went out, and] entering the dark room, Ann felt scared.
(7) He emerged from the darkroom showing the photo we needed.
(8) He was standing knee-deep in the water.
(9) He remained standing by the green-painted front door.,
(10) [easy] front-door access to the manor;
(11) dead letter : dead-letter office,
(12) dirty-clothes basket : dirty clothes(-)basket.
(13) sunrise, goldfish, cupboard (vs. silver-fox, cow elephant)
blackbird, shorthand (vs. first night)
drawbridge, pickpocket, playground (vs. looking-glass)
overcoat, offshoot, outlook (vs. by-way).
(14) blood-red, snow-cold, colour-blind (vs. waterproof)
bitter-sweet, dark-blue, Anglo-Saxon
over-sensitive, under-ripe, all-important (vs. evergreen).
(15) fellow-man; public school; common sense.
(16) common sense; common law; first night; young lady; thunderstruck, etc.

(loose)collocations recent compounds fixed compounds1

London buses blackbird


Monday
stone wall >> > stonewall gospel
country town >>> country town

home-made
archbishop
head-master
dead letter cutthroat
dark horse >>> dark horse
dark room >>> darkroom

1
Our fixed compounds category is broad enough to cover also truly original compounds, demotivated as they
are, e.g., Monday, gospel, etc., whose composition is opaque to ordinary speakers.

64
(17) dead+lock
flash+point (He gets hot under the collar and then hits the ceiling.)
outlook
by-way

daybreak dead letter


drawbridge greybeard
Anglo-Saxon flashpoint
etc. deadlock
darkroom
grindstone
dark horse
stone wall

COMPOSITIONALITY

VARIABILITY + LITERALNESS

literal non-literal figurative


LEXICAL + GRAMMATICAL

(18) happy-go-lucky; kitchen cum scullery; dead-letter office;


bread and butter vs. butter and bread (?)

a BABY BLACK BIRD


BLACK BABY BIRD

(19) a young modern English lady / modern English young lady; an old handsome fellow / a handsome
old fellow; burnt-out peasants hovels / peasants burnt-out hovels.

65
(20) He was given a red carpet welcome
(21) playground; pen-knife; life boat; deadlock; greybeard ?
(22) [He had] a high stone wall [erected round his garden].

GREY BEARD=CHARACTERISTIC FEATURE OF AN OLD MAN.

(23) highbrow; blockhead; lazy-bones; pickpocket; blue-bell,

(24a) A red tape rather than a black one would be better to insulate the wire with for
people to take care.
(24b) Before we finally started reconstructing our country house, we had to cut
through the red tape of all sorts of regulations.

BLUE COLOUR <> IMPROPER BEHAVIOUR / NASTY TALK


a seaside blue hotel

References & Selected bibliography:

Adams, V. (1973): An introduction to modern English word-formation. IN: English Language Series, 7. London.

Arnod, I.V. (1973): The English word. Moskva.

Bauer, L. (1983): English word-formation. Cambridge.

Bloomfield, L. (1983): An Introduction to the study of language. John Benjamins.

----------------- (1966): Language. Holt, Rinehart & Winston.

Doviak, K. (1997): K problematike vylenenia anglickch zloench adjektv. IN: Acta Universitatis Matthiae
Belli, 1, pp. 87-115. Bansk Bystrica.
-------------- (1998): K vpovednej dynamickosti komplexnch lexm. IN:Acta Universitatis Matthiae Belli, 2,
pp. 163-172. Bansk Bystrica.

Gleason, H.A. (1965): Linguistics and English grammar. Holt, Rinehart & Winston.

66
Harris, Z. (1970): Papers in structural and transformational linguistics. D. Reidel Publ. Co.

Hockett, C. (1966): A course in modern linguistics. The Mackmillan Co. / New York.

Jespersen, O. (1962): Growth and structure of the English language. Basil Blackwell, Oxford.

Kavka S. (1980): Semantic determinations within the noun phrase in modern English and Spanish. SPN Praha.

----------- (1999): Some aspects of idiomaticity. IN:Acta facultatis philosophicae universitatis ostraviensis,
pp. 101-105.

----------- (2001): New aspects of idiomatology. Preov. Unpublished dissertation.

Mlkov, K. (2001): K nkterm ekvivalennm typm eskch a nizozemskch nominlnch frazm. IN:
Jazykovdn aktuality, 38/3, pp. 98-105.

Marchand, H. (1969): The categories and types of present-day English word-formation. Munchen.

Mathesius, V. (1910): Poznmky o substantivnch sloeninch a sdrueninch v souasn anglitin. IN:


Sbornk filosofick, 1. Praha.
---------------- (1961): Obsahov rozbor souasn anglitiny na zklad obecn lingvistickm. Praha.

Meys, W.J. (1975): Compound adjectives in English and the ideal speaker-listener. Amsterdam.

Poldauf, I. (1983): Anglick slovn pzvuk. Praha.

Postal, P. (1967): Constituent structure: A study of contemporary models of syntactic description. Mouton.

Soubustov, J. (2001): Kognitivn pohled na smantiku idiom. IN: Jazykovdn aktuality, 38/3, pp. 87-92.

tekauer, P. (2001): Beheading the word? Please, stop the execution. IN: Folia Linguistica, XXXIV / 3-4. pp.
333-355. Mouton de Gruyter.

Trnka, B. (1967): Rozbor nynj spisovn anglitiny II. Praha.

Zandvoort, R. W. (1966): A handbook of English grammar. Longmans.

67
[7]
OMNIPOTENCE OF CONTEXT.

Todays contribution of mine is but a modest slice out of a larger study within the field of
idiomaticity, or idiomatology. In the vein of functional approach, I will try my best to offer a
couple of thoughts on the role of context as this shows itself on the interlocutors part when
decisions are made about the proper interpretation of idiomatic expressions. Since time is our
enemy, I only hope to touch upon another topic too, namely, what we expect from context
also on the speakers part. Although these and other issues of context are very often taken for
granted, I guess that the examples I am going to cite will make a splash all the same.
The citations in point (1) of your handouts illustrate the cases about which all of us
will say that they are non-literal in meaning:
white lie; shoot the breeze; cry stinking fish; scream blue murder ...
These are true idiomatic expressions, which do not have any reasonable literal counterparts.
On the other hand, the phrases in (2) will undoubtedly be read literally:
abominable lie; shoot a bird; eat stinking fish; commit a murder
And, finally, the examples in (3) will have both literal and figurative interpretations:
small fish; play with fire; lose ones marbles
It is with these that we face the problem. They are far too many in English, and new parallel
figurative meanings can appear under certain favourable conditions, as has always been the
case throughout the history. Etymological studies will shed some light on the process, not in
all cases, though. Sometimes the figures on which new, idiomatic meanings arise are no
longer transparent enough. This, however, is another story. We ask a question now what the
criterion is like that presently keeps the literal and the figurative meanings apart; in other
words, what is it that informs the interlocutor about one or the other interpretation? And by
the way, you noticed, didnt you, that in point (1) I began with phrases of non-literal, say,
figurative meaning first. This was not just a random order in the list - also this fact has some
significance.
Nevertheless, let us start with the concept of predictability. If I may paraphrase
briefly the definition offered by tekauer (2005), speaking of predictability we have in mind
the DEGREE of probability that a particular meaning of an expression encountered for the first
time by the interlocutor will be interpreted in PREFERENCE to other possible meanings. I
myself dare to extend the definition a little, also because we would like to know more about
the very process of comprehending, namely, about that degree (as mentioned in the definition)
and about that preferred meaning. Hence I take predictability as existing on two
interconnected levels. On one level the interlocutor analyzes the internal structure of the
expression, whose components constitute its total meaning. This computation (to use the
fashionable term) is quite often difficult to describe, yet in any case it is based on the process
of cumulative association of the semantic roots of the respective components; then, on the
receivers part the process presupposes decipherment of metonymies, metaphors, even so-
called underlying metaphors involved. All this may be taken for granted. Nevertheless, what
will be interesting to hear is that the so-called Decomposition Hypothesis (which is one of the
theories to describe ways of arriving at the proper interpretation of meaning) assumes that
idiomatic expressions are semantically empty and therefore their figurative meanings must be
obtained by accessing idiomatic meanings of the components. Hence it follows, logically, that
what flashes first in the interlocutors mind must be the figurative meaning of the whole
expression. And only after does this figurative interpretation show inadequate, the literal
interpretation will be preferred. Laymen would very probably expect a reverse way. Well, I
dont deny it. Yet I myself, as a non-native English speaker, am often haunted by the doubts
whether the expression Im using has not a figurative interpretation. I would only be glad if

68
the connotations I might stir up (without wanting to, certainly) would not cause anything
worse than the interlocutors laughter. You may object, of course, saying if I had a deeper
linguistic background, from broader cultural horizons to what we call intuition, things would
improve. Yes, but only partially. Native speakers DO start from a possible, potential
figurative reading. Listen what one of my respondents said about the way in which she
understood the sentence (5) They will call to see if the COAST IS CLEAR today for the trip. :
In the end I prefer the meaning the skies are sunny, but, actually, my first thought was no
one was watching them to pursue them. Here it is fairly easy to guess what made her opt in
for the literal meaning in the end: it is the word trip, which advocates of another theory would
call key, that contextually upset the accumulated figurative interpretation. In fact, this
example serves well to comment upon the other level of my extended, broader definition of
predictability. There must be a device, in peoples mind, which decides on the proper choice.
In other words, there is something, a criterion?, that finally sets one or the other interpretation
apart. Lets judge examples 6 and 7:
6(a) He keeps all kinds of SMALL FISH, but the most precious is one RED HERRING.
(b) He is just a SMALL FISH, but always a master in putting a RED HERRING at any
time we try to solve the problem.
7(a) The policeman TWISTED his ARM and made him lie on the floor.
(b) Ive had enough, thank you. But if you TWIST my ARM I wouldnt mind having
some more salad.

No doubt, the meanings of (a)-utterances will be read literally, those in (b) figuratively. (By
the way, the interlocutor must accept the existence of red herring as one of the species of
fish.) And as for example 8: Keep your nose to the grindstone. - hardly anybody would ever
think of anything like a plastic surgery.
Nothing novel, indeed, you will say. Yet it is worthy of note that here both parties, the speaker
and the receiver, will interpret the respective meanings alike. We tend to claim, and quite
rightly, that this is owing to the shared context, the factor which is responsible for just one and
not the other intention on the speakers part and the interpretation on the receivers part. Let
us have in mind, however, that the construction of meaning and the interpretation of meaning
are nothing like a two-way road. And so it may happen that the verbal context does not show
itself as omnipotent a factor as is commonly believed. As I have pointed out already,
interlocutors will normally begin by figurative interpretation, and this will be found active if
the context has biased for that interpretation it means: when the context is, say, neutral, only
verbal, and hence rather insufficient. Let us consider a few examples in (9) as prototypes:
Both sisters giggled, SHOOTING THE BREEZE the whole evening.
Im tired, I think Ill HIT THE HAY. (SACK)
And, in the end, they decided to BURY THE HATCHET.
I feel like PAINTING THE TOWN RED.
I gave the mechanic some money to GREASE THE WHEELS.
Can you CARRY A TORCH for Mary?

Imagine that the speakers intention was to use these expressions in literal senses. Please do
not say it is altogether impossible. If we thought in this way, we would act as interlocutors
rather than speakers. From the speakers point of view, that is, not all literal readings are as
absurd as shooting the breeze or hitting the hay. I think we could imagine situations, in
fairy-tales, for instance, in which a magician paints the town red; or else, John as a genuine
gentleman does not let Mary carry the lantern by herself.
Well, although the literal interpretations may sound a bit peculiar, and thus only figurative
readings will be accepted by the interlocutor, there indeed are cases when ambiguities are

69
obvious, and these must be ironed out in some way in order not to hinder communication. Let
us have a look at the following example, which is meant to epitomize the issue:
(10) He must have LOST his MARBLES, as he began shouting.

Did he lose those small balls that boys play with; or did he go mad? It is true that the verbal
context, in the original view of the concept, does not help much. Namely, it does not help
much if we understand it as something that defines the meaning and function of the
expression by making the text cohesive through such forms as ellipsis, pronouns, particles,
conjunctions, and similar. Luckily enough, this typically occurs not only within the given
utterance but also in preceding and following ones. Hence we have basically two ways
available: Staying within the domain of the co-text concept we can sometimes replace the
idiomatic expression with an appropriate simplex, or to adapt the means of cohesiveness in
such a way that the problem of ambiguity remains resolved. Some options are shown in (11),
of those cited in (9):
I feel like celebrating ; I gave the mechanic some money in order that he greased the
wheels. ;
Could you help Mary (to) carry the torch?
At this occasion we can also consider (12):
grasp the nettle > grab / seize the nettle;
goal / aim > target; hit the target : reach / achieve the target.

In everyday speech the situation is not as bad as that, luckily enough. Ambiguities that might
bring about problems in communication will mostly pass unnoticed since both parties handle
the context below the level of consciousness. This sounds optimistic, of course, but here the
context-concept is extended. Namely, there are also relevant features of the actual situation in
which the utterance is pronounced and these add considerably to the meaning. In fact, these
are features that we take into account when dealing with functional styles and which bear
upon the issue of text-coherence. Here we speak of context of situation, or co-situation, which
represents, at least for some of us, the entire cultural background, including of course the
respective communities knowledge of the external world. By this extempore I meant to say
that the concept of context encompasses both verbal and situational context. Then, as a
complex phenomenon it is viewed as a cline owing to the weight of its co-situational
component, overlapping with the co-textual component.
I am certainly in line with Lyons opinion claiming that the figurative interpretation has its
logical grounds not in semantic anomaly but rather in contextual improbability. I must stress
again (to be followed well) that the probability, or, say, predictability for the expression to be
read figuratively will depend largely on the co-situational component. It is true that
sometimes the process of leveling contextual information is what has to be solved first, and
it is often time-consuming, too. Let me illustrate these facts on the following (under 13):
It took me a long time before I GOT THE PICTURE.
>Context I: I managed to buy the picture
>Context II: I came to understand
>Context III: He couldnt understand

Co-situation 1:
I am sitting in my friends room admiring one of the pictures squeezed on the wall. I
know that he was trying to buy the picture from a lady who did not seem to be willing to sell
it first. Now, at my approving sight, he says: Well, it took me really long before I got the
picture.

70
Co-situation 2:
My friend is telling me about an unexpected appointment with his boss. I understand
that he was offered a gorgeous career, about which he had not even dreamt before. No
wonder he comments upon the experience saying: It took me long before I got the
picture.

It is obvious enough that the interpretation of the expression get the picture will be literal in
Co-situation 1, and figurative in Co-situation 2 (in the sense come to understand).
Nevertheless, we can imagine yet one more situation, when the expected input comes only
after the expression has been uttered. (To a certain extent, allowing for some inaccuracy, we
could speak of introducing the rhematic part of the discourse first.)

Co-situation 3:
My friend remains silent, evidently wishing to change the topic. At least I think he is.
Then, all of a sudden, he says: Well, it took me really long before I got the picture. And
after a moments hesitation he goes on telling a story on buying a picture (as in Co-situation
1), or, alternatively, on his meeting the boss (as in Co-situation 2). However, the question is
what in fact crosses my mind when I hear his first sentence. Of course, I can react in a fairly
obliging way, saying Yes? in a rising intonation, for instance, but what actually am I
thinking of? Is it anything like Which one [ie. picture] or rather What happened that you
did not understand?

Here psycholinguists are right in claiming that in Situation 3 no evidence is found for the
activation of figurative meaning. However, retrospective judgements by native speakers will
show that the very first attempt, on hearing the expression, is to interpret it idiomatically. (Do
you remember the case [5] of the coast is clear? Here, too, predictability guesses were
believed to begin by figurative reading.) Thus the utterance It took me long before I got the
picture embedded in the co-situation as here in (3) will very probably evoke the following
thought in the listeners mind: He could not understand first.

There is one important point to mention in this context. What I have so far been
commenting upon may seem to be the way of processing on the interlocutors part only. I
have to add that the speaker, too, is involved in the same way of processing. This statement
will be taken for granted; yet the truth is that we could only hardly dare to maintain that the
speakers way is exactly the very reverse path (as claimed by Aitchison). Suffice it consider
one of the simplest situations, namely, pragmatically speaking, the interlocutor can react in a
different way to what the speaker actually intended to tell. Thus even though the context may
seem to support the figurative reading of the given expression on the interlocutors part, what
the speaker has in mind, deliberately, is its literal interpretation. Our example of Co-situation
3 will serve as illustration of this point:
What flashes in my mind first is the meaning my friend experienced something that
he could not understand. But he has been thinking of the picture now hung on the wall
behind us, the one he told me about once. As a matter of fact, my friend has in mind what
corresponds to Co-situation 1, and this narrows down the possibilities of interpretation.
-o0o-

There are quite a few other issues when context is called upon in order to solve problems, for
example: problems of style, or synonymity and interchangeability of idiomatic expressions.
Here decisions to be made are on the part of a speaker. This is what I have just illustrated, and
let us have it in mind while discussing the examples Im going to cite. And second, the role of

71
context will be understood in such a way that its co-textual component seems to prevail when
the speaker selects from among synonymous expressions.
Ive touched upon the possibility of replacing an idiomatic expression with a simplex in order
to bias the interpretation; e.g., while paint the town red might be ambiguous, celebrate is only
literal. Of course, this simplex does not require much of the context to be read literally, but I
think that all of us feel that the utterance is lacking in imagination and expressivity. Let us
note another example, as I promised. Under (14) one simplex, get angry, is matched by
several idiomatic expressions.

get angry <> blow off steam blow off ones top lose ones cool
let off steam blow ones stack hit the ceiling
bite ones head off
flip ones lid (etc.)

One big topic is: Are idiomatic expressions used because they have different meanings from
simplexes? I would say Yes, and I guess it is not only a matter of style!
Second, we may ask a question: Do the substitutions such as blow off and let off [steam] mean
any difference? Or are they just mere variations, alternatives, due to varieties of English,
something like the British trousers and the American pants?
And third: Are all, or at least some, of the expressions in (14) equal in meaning, are they
synonymous?

Gibbs and Nayak in their articles dated 1990, 1991, 1995 presented witty illustrations to show
that the proper choice among idiomatic expressions available depended largely on the verbal
context, which is to be understood as a choice controlled by root metaphors as these underlie
key words of the story. Having been inspired by their illustrations I now dare to show mine.
Citation (15): I didnt mind her driving my Peugeot. But when she returned once on foot
saying the car was left somewhere in a ditch, I .. got angry??: got hot under the
collar??: hit the ceiling??

Im afraid that the phrase I got angry is too weak in expressivity, and it would probably only
be used if the speaker were unable to retrieve anything more juicy, more appropriate,
namely, an expression to reflect his state of mind immediately after he learnt the news.
Nevertheless, let us imagine that in our speakers mental lexicon there are two idiomatic
expressions available, e.g., get hot under the collar and hit the ceiling. I guess that the choice
between the two of them will, to a large extent, reflect the speakers personality-type, namely,
how much choleric he was. In any case, what we sort of feel, trying to describe it in
idiomaticity concepts, there is an image of pressure underlying the situation, and this
pressure can be viewed as being accumulated on the speakers part as long as he listens to the
story on the accident. As Ive noted, through uttering one or the other idiom the speaker tells a
lot about his momentary mood, being in the heat of passion: metaphorically, the pressure in
the speakers mind can only build up piecemeal, or it reaches its maximum and must be
released. Obviously, hit the ceiling will more likely be used to match the latter situation.

The text in (15) is quite short, and it does not contain any lexical means to point to the
underlying metaphors which are expected to opt in for one or the other idiomatic expression at
the end of the story. The story can, of course, be extended and appropriate lexical means can
be used in order to express the significance of the co-text component of context. I made up
my mind to offer yet another citation, a fairly cohesive text, in (16).

72
Im always tense when Im thinking about compounds as idiomatic expressions. It makes me
fume when I cant grasp the idea, and the pressure builds up when I find myself unable to lock
it up into proper words. Also I get hot under the collar whenever I come to know that an
ingenious thought of mine is not an original one. And when our secretary rings me up
reminding me I sort of forgot to submit an Abstract of my contribution, I BLOW OFF STEAM.

The text abounds in such explicit lexical units that aim at the phrase I blow off steam as
probably the best out of the list (14). The expressions such as tense, build up, lock up, get hot
match idiomatically the image of pressure of steam. The text is, Im afraid, of too much
creative a character, unlike the more natural text (15). Yet why not make use of one from the
didactic point of view?

.
-o0o-

For reasons of time, I limited myself to commenting upon two prototypical cases, namely, one
showing the process of biasing interpretation on the interlocutors part, and the other
illustrating ways of selecting proper idiomatic expressions on the speakers part. If we claim
that ambiguities in interpretation, either literal or figurative, are solved owing to the
omnipotent context, then I believe that context must be regarded as a fairly complex
phenomenon, in which the primary role is played by its co-situational component. This co-
part is the one that shows varying degrees of its content, yet in any case it overlaps, more or
less, with the co-text component, i.e. verbal component. The degrees vary according to the
stages of language evolution, viewed diachronically. (Provided we accept the idea that co-
situation is the entire cultural background.) And what is also worthy of note, on the receivers
part the co-situational component may sometimes be time-consuming before a unity, or say,
an agreement is achieved with the speaker on either literal or figurative interpretation. As a
matter of fact, the co-situational component will vary in its degrees more on the part of the
interlocutor rather than the speaker.

Let me end up my talk with sort of private note, in which I dare to install one mixed-up
idiom. Believe it or not, very often I find myself caught understanding and even experiencing
what I put down in text 16. Suffice it to replace the words compounds as with something
like the role of context. So Im aware of the fact that I cant put my foot down on everything I
said with a firm hand.

-o0o-

73
OMNIPOTENCE OF CONTEXT.
(A handout)

1. white lie; shoot the breeze; cry stinking fish; scream blue murder ...
2. abominable lie; shoot a bird; eat stinking fish; commit a murder
3. small fish; play with fire; lose ones marbles

Figurative interpretation first flashing in interlocutors mind? + Keeping figurative and


literal interpretation apart?

4. notion of predictability; Decomposition Hypothesis

5. They will call to see if the COAST IS CLEAR today for the trip.
6. (a) He keeps all kinds of SMALL FISH, but the most precious is one RED HERRING.
(b) He is just a SMALL FISH, but always a master in putting a RED HERRING at any time we try to
solve the problem.
7. (a) The policeman TWISTED his ARM and made him lie on the floor.
(b) Ive had enough, thank you. But if you TWIST my ARM I wouldnt mind having some more salad.
8. Keep your nose to the grindstone.
9. Both sisters giggled, SHOOTING THE BREEZE the whole evening.
Im tired, I think Ill HIT THE HAY. (sack)
And, in the end, they decided to BURY THE HATCHET.
I feel like PAINTING THE TOWN RED.
I gave the mechanic some money to GREASE THE WHEELS.
Can you CARRY A TORCH for Mary?
10. He must have LOST his MARBLES, as he began shouting.

context = verbal c. (co-text)+ c. of situation (co-situation)


11. I feel like celebrating ; I gave the mechanic some money in order that he greased the wheels. ;
Could you help Mary (to) carry the torch?
12. grasp the nettle > grab / seize the nettle;
goal / aim > target; hit the target : reach / achieve the target.

13. It took me a long time before I GOT THE PICTURE. > Context I: I managed to buy the picture
> Context II: I came to understand
> Context III: He couldnt understand

14. get angry <> blow off steam blow off ones top lose ones cool
let off steam blow ones stack hit the ceiling
bite ones head off
flip ones lid (etc.)

15. I didnt mind her driving my Peugeot. But when she returned once on foot saying the car was left
somewhere in a ditch, I .. got angry?: got hot under the collar?: hit the ceiling?

16. Im always tense when Im thinking about compounds as idiomatic expressions. It makes me fume
when I cant grasp the idea, and the pressure builds up when I find myself unable to lock it up into
proper words. Also I get hot under the collar whenever I come to know that an ingenious thought of
mine is not an original one. And when our secretary rings me up reminding me I sort of forgot to
submit an Abstract of my contribution, I BLOW OFF STEAM.

74
Some useful references:

Aitchison, J. The seeds of speech: Language origin and evolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1996.

Cacciari, C. & Tabossi, P. The comprehension of idioms. Journal of Memory and Language 27, 1988: 668-683.

Chafe, L.W. The effect of idiomatization. Meaning and the Structure of Language. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1970: 40-50.

Fernando, C. Idioms and Idiomaticity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996.

Gibbs, R.W. Spilling the beans on understanding and memory for idioms in conversation. Memory and
Cognition 8,2, 1980: 149-156.

-------------- On the process of understanding idioms. Journal of Psycholinguistic Research 14, 1985: 465-477.

Kavka, S. A Book on Idiomatology. ilina: EDIS, 2003.

Kopytko,R. What is wrong with modern accounts of context in linguistics? http://www.univie.ac.at/Anglistik/ang


(7.1.2006).

Leech, G. Semantics. Penguin Books, 1976.

Lyons, J. Language, Meaning and Context. Fontana Paperbacks, 1983.

---------- Semantics I, II. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

Ortony, A.D. & Schallert, D. & Reynolds, R & Antos, S. Interpreting metaphors and idioms Some effects of
context on comprehension. Journal of Verbal Language and Verbal Behavior 17, 1978: 465-477.

Palmer, F.R. Semantics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.

Sonomura, O.M. Idiomaticity in the basic writing of American English. New York: Peter Lang Publishing, Inc.,
1996.

tekauer, P. Meaning predictability in word-formation. Amsterdam, Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 2005.

Tabossi, P. & Zardon, F. The activation of idiomatic meaning in spoken language comprehension. In: Cacciari,
C.- Tabossi, P. (eds): Idioms - Structure, Processing and Interpretation. Hillsdale, New Jersey: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates, 1993.

Ullmann, S. Semantics - An Introduction to the Science of Meaning. Readings in Modern English Lexicology.
Leningrad: Prosvesceniye, 1975.

van de Voort, M.E.C. & Vonk, W. You dont die immediately when you kick an empty bucket: A processing view
on semantic and syntactic characteristic of idioms. In: Everaerts, M. et al. (eds): Idioms Structural and
psychological perspectives. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Inc. Publishers, USA, 1995.

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[8]
(Some less known) GRAMMATICAL CATEGORIES IN PRACTICE.

As we have pointed out several times, morphemes are formal minimal units of grammar,
which are endowed with lexical or grammatical meaning and which play also a syntactic role.
We have mentioned, too, that while they are identified they must be arranged into classes. As
a matter of fact, this is the aim of grammatical analysis, namely, to define classes of
morphemes, the process being based on common properties that the respective morphemes
show. Of course, the morphemes within the respective classes are ordered, as well as the
classes as wholes are ordered, thus making up what we call grammatical categories. These
are of higher and lower rank: following Prof. Lyons terminology, we speak of primary and
secondary grammatical categories. The primary ones are called, traditionally, parts of
speech (< L. partes orationis), or word-classes, such as nouns, adjectives, pronouns, verbs,
prepositions, conjunctions, interjections. The secondary ones are, e.g., number, gender, case,
countability, tense, aspect, voice, etc.

The word category is of Greek origin: kategorein meant (1) to accuse or (2) to
predicate, and the latter meaning is the one we use in logic and also in linguistics. Briefly, to
predicate1 can be explained as to ascribe, or attribute properties to things. And for Aristotle
(322 B.C.), who was the first to use the term, categories were various ways, modes, through
which predications could be made of things.
Thus Aristotelian approach defined nouns as substances, as essential, underlying
realities of things; similarly, adjectives were believed to denote qualities, verbs actions, etc.2
Let us note that the currently used terms are Latin. And they only partly follow the
Aristotelian approach hence the term nomen substantivum, nomen adjectivum, while the
word nomen means simply a name, likewise verbum means a word3. On the other hand,
however, adiectivum says, verbatim, that such a word is thrown to the name (< L.
ad+iactare), and adverbium must be a word attached to the verb (< L. ad+verbum).

By the way, the Old English nomenclature made use of simple translations of these
Latin terms, although we come across some fine metaphorical expressions, too, as in Aelfrics
Grammar, dating from the 10th century4:
Nomen is nama, mid am we nemna ealle ing
Verbum is word, and word getacna weorc
Adverbium is wordes gefera

In order to carry on the story, let us remember that Aristotles is a truly ontological
approach, rendering categories of extra-lingual reality: briefly, nouns are defined as names of
objects, adjectives as permanent qualities, verbs as actions, i.e. dynamic qualities, etc. By the
way, Aristotles view is applicable, although only partially, on English, too: both He works
and He is young are predications, with an action as a category in the former sentence and a
permanent quality in the latter.

1
In Czech predikovat, vypovdat, tvrdit, pisuzovat.
2
Aristotle himself claimed that only certain words signified objects of thought, thus constituting matter of
discourse: only nouns, adjectives, verbs, and adverbs played the role in the process of thinking.
3
Verbum is a direct translation from the Greek rhema, which also meant word.
4
Aelfrics Grammar is an adapted translation of Ars grammatica by Aurelius.

76
On the other hand, Aristotles opponents emphasized formal similarities that
respective words might have. Thus adjectives were considered as a sub-class of nouns,
because they are (in Greek and Latin, at least) inflected alike as for their number and case.1

No matter which approach we opt in for, it must always be borne in mind that the
discussion went on Greek and Latin only. Hence the problem is faced if we try to apply the
old grammatical categories on the system of modern languages, mainly typologically different
ones. Let us consider Modern English and discuss one example to illustrate. In He is sure to
tell and He was slow to recognize it we will very probably tend to define sure and slow as
adjectives. Yet we must wonder why they do not express permanent qualities as adjectives are
expected to do so.2 Here sure / slow do not refer to the person he but rather to the actions of
telling / recognizing. And one more example, perhaps an easier one to grasp. Let us consider
the word work in I work all days round, and I go to work every day. I am convinced that
everybody knowledgeable of at least fundamentals of grammar would label work as a verb
in the former case, and as a noun in the latter case. And similarly we could think of milk in I
dont like milk / I work in a milk shop / I tried to milk the cow.3 And indeed, there is another
way how to define word-classes, i.e. primary grammatical categories: we take also syntactic
functions of words into account. Then we hope to define nouns as classes working as
syntactic subjects and objects, adjectives as attributes, verbs as predicates, and so on.
Nevertheless, this criterion cannot be applied absolutely, either. In English it falls short,
simply because primary nouns, too, can act as attributes, e.g., evening in an evening paper,
as well as pronouns or numerals, e.g. some people, five books, and even so-called determiners
(articles, besides others), as in the string quite a few notes. Similarly, as far as subject / object
is concerned, practically any part of speech can appear in these syntactic positions, e.g., The
rich can afford everything. My is a possessive pronoun. One is prime number. Well, dear, say
hallo to daddy. I dont like your buts in every sentence.
What is a solution like? As a matter of fact, it is twofold. The easiest way might be to
ignore word-classes, claiming that in the end they merge all the same. The other way is to
accept a truly complex view and to define a word-class as based on three criteria, namely,
ontological, i.e. semantic, functional, and grammatical. Examples:

Noun > 1. denotes persons, objects, abstract qualities and processes;


2. functions typically as the Head of Noun Phrase;
3. shows characteristics of grammatical number, gender, case, determination, and
countability.
Verb > 1. expresses usually changeable, dynamic qualities;
2. functions as the Head of Verb Phrase;
3. shows characteristics of grammatical person, number, tense, voice, mood, and
aspect.
I do not think that educated people will have problems to recognize primary grammatical
categories, i.e. word-classes. They will also be aware of most secondary categories, at least
from the practical point of view. Learners of English will master plural in nouns, or the use of
pre-present tense, and a lot of other formal means of grammar. Nevertheless, it is a little more
difficult to understand the difference in number in nouns, pronouns and verbs.4 And it is really
worth considering the fact that English has six tenses while Czech has only three. Moreover,

1
Aristotle rendered adjectives a sub-category of verbs.
2
As English adjectives are inflexible, the grammatical view is of no use.
3
Here linguists speak of so-called full conversion, i.e. the process of coining new naming units, namely the
words of different classes, yet having the same phonetic shape.
4
While boys means a boy + a boy + a boy, we is not at all *I+I+I!

77
linguistically trained students are expected to follow the interplay of these secondary
categories, for instance between number-countability-determination, or between tense-aspect.
Finally, they should be able to define these categories, namely, to explain what verbal voice,
for instance, actually means.1
Let us now discuss some categories at least.

Gender > synonymous to sex, in fact the division into male and female; as applied on
grammar it characterizes certain parts of speech as masculine, feminine and neutral. In
English the category has very little importance, except pronouns and certain nouns
which typically show the male vs. female distinction.2

Tense > relates the time of the action / event / state which is referred to in the sentence toward
the time of utterance, namely to the moment of speech proper. In English the time
moment when the speaker pronounces the utterance is decisive for judging any two
actions as parallel or successive.3 The category of tense is closely connected with the
category of

Aspect > reflects the way in which the verbal action is regarded, or experienced with
respect to time. Thus we can imagine an action as durative (continuous, momentary),
as opposed to habitual; another aspectual difference is to view an action as perfective,
i.e. completed, and imperfective, i.e. incomplete. In English these two basic aspectual
types are expressed largely by respective appropriate tenses, although there are also
other means; even context will very often play its significant role here.4

The verbal action in its transformations can also be viewed in terms of its phase, facet, and
quantity. In any case, the basic meaning of the verb remains untouched, though.

The aspect expressing the phase of action is ingressive, continuative, and terminative. Ingressive aspect,
namely the one that expresses the beginning of action, is signalled by the verbs which by themselves imply this
aspect, being followed by the infinitive or the gerund of the main, i.e. meaningful verb, e.g., He began to laugh.
They started writing the test.
There are verbs that signal a certain change of state if they are combined with the adjective or the
participle, e.g., He fell asleep. He turned pale. and there are other means too, such as so-called free prefixes,
e.g., He hurried away. She stood up., certain morphemes, e.g., blacken, arise, and, occasionally, lexical words
proper, e.g., to sour.

Continuative aspect can be achieved by repetition of the verb, e.g., They went and went. She combed
and combed her hair., or by certain phraseological means, namely, by using such verbs that indicate the aspect,
such as go on / keep (on) / continue, e.g., The went on. She went on reading. They continued to play. Keep
smiling.

On the other hand, the verbs as finish / stop / cease / give up, and similar, imply terminative aspect,
e.g., He finished writing the book. I gave up smoking. Hes done writing.5

1
Answering that there is active and passive voice does not refer to the gist of the matter.
2
This concerns pronouns of 3rd person singular, i.e. he/she, his/her, himself/herself, also who/which, and the
nouns such as prince-princess, stallion-mare.
3
What we have in mind is the so-called sequence (or concord) of tenses.
4
He is working in the garden. He works in the garden every day. He has been living here for ages. He used to
play the violin. He ate up everything. The machine is damaged / is being damaged (?).
5
The verbs indicating the three aspects can be followed by infinitive or gerund forms of the meaningful verb.
The issue is discussed in detail in respective talks on infinite verb forms.

78
As for the facet of action, there is a possibility in English to express (1) a single, non-repeated action,
and (2) so-called resultative aspect. The former can be illustrated by Lets have a smoke. I had a bathe in the
pond., the latter by I wonder if Ill live to see it. They shot him dead. He took over the responsibility.
Quantity of action is expressed by what is known generally as iterative aspect. There are several
possibilities. First of all, Modern English will employ simple and continuous forms of tenses, in their main and
marginal functions, as explained in respective chapters as well as in this one, here-above. Also the following
means are at the speakers disposal: It is the modal will, yet in the 3rd person only, that implies repetition of
action, e.g., If I do it this way, it will always start running. They would ski for hours., and the construction used
to followed by the infinitive of the meaningful verb, e.g., I used to play the violin when I was at school, but then
I stopped practicing and. Let us have in mind that this construction, namely, used to + Vinf, holds for the past
time sphere only; in other time spheres only simple forms of tenses can be used, together with appropriate
adverbs (not obligatorily, though), e.g. usually, regularly, always, and the like. Of course, other lexical means
can be used, periphrastic expressions, as it were, e.g., I was in the habit of going to the mountains every
weekend. He is accustomed to write several pages a day. And finally, there are verbs the phonetic shape of
which implies repetition, e.g., Girls giggled. The flames flicker.

From the didactic point of view, learners of English should be aware of the means that English and their
mother tongue have to render the aspect category. As elsewhere in language, the means to express the given
category, or phenomenon / feature do not need to be identical in the languages compared. So also in this issue:
let us note that in Czech, for example, expressing aspect variations is based mostly on morphological
derivations1 whereas in English it is the proper use of tenses and their forms, simple or continuous, and very
often the mere context that controls the aspectual transitions. The following examples will illustrate: I knew him
well. vs. I knew him at once. Yesterday I listened to an interesting interview on the radio. vs. He listened to me
and said.2

Voice > expresses whether the syntactic subject of a sentence is simultaneously the doer of an
action (so-called agent), or whether it is acted on, namely, it is a receiver of the action
(or sufferer). In English we speak of active voice in the former case, and passive voice
in the latter case.3 Generally speaking, the passive voice is used when the agent is
unknown or difficult to specify. One or the other voice is preferred or required on the
basis of so-called Functional Sentence Perspective.4

Mood > expresses characteristics which involve the speakers attitude toward the action. Thus
the speaker can conceive the action as a fact (statement), or a command, or a
question.5 From the practical point of view, we all are familiar with the types of
sentences that reflect these moods, such as affirmative, interrogative, also ones of
exclamation. And correspondingly, the moods are referred to as indicative,
subjunctive, interrogative, imperative.
Besides these three basic characteristics there are at least three scales of modality.
Namely, even if the speaker makes a statement, s/he can, quite intentionally, involve
in one further aspects of mood, which range from full realness to making hypothetical
propositions. Here we can speak of (1) wish and intention, (2) necessity and
obligation, and (3) certainty and possibility. In English the corresponding mood is
called subjunctive, the verbal form of which is either simple or periphrastic. The
former is practically identical with indicative preterit, the latter makes use of so-called
modal verbs.6

1
Those who speak Czech will understand the following examples: nesu nosm nosvm; jt pejt
pechzet.
2
In Czech: Znal jsem ho dobe. vs. Poznal jsem ho hned. Vera jsem poslouchal vs. Vyslechl m a ekl .
3
He told me everything. I was told everything.
4
I was tempted to go on. G.B. Shaw wrote Pygmalion. Pygmalion was written by G.B. Shaw.
5
He works in an office. Work it out by tomorrow. Does he go to school?
6
I wish you were here. If he came, wed be pleased. I will do it. It must be true! It cant have been true! He may
be coming in a minute.

79
PASSIVE VOICE
(A handout)

1. Her father was killed in the War. I was tempted to go on.


2. The doctor was sent for. He was elected M.P.
3. His son was run over by a car. This play was written by G.B. Shaw. He was beloved and
admired of all.
4. Youll be laughed at. The bed has been slept in. The forest was set fire to by a tramp. This
silly business must be put a stop to. His knowledge of languages ought to be made
better use of. Prepositions must be paid attention to.
5. The door opened. This book sells well. This blouse washes easily. His novels read well.
The rule reads as follows. The play acts better than it reads.
6. How many persons have been flown to New Zealand this year? Cheap trains will be run on
Sundays. Horses should be walked for some time after a race.
7. He is said to be rich. She was believed to be honest. She is known to be a great sportsman.
They are expected to come tomorrow. He is supposed to do it by himself.
8. The house is built. X The house is being built.
The machine was damaged, we could not use it.
The machine was damaged by constant careless handling.

9. She rose to speak and the great crowd listened to her with enthusiasm.
She rose to speak and was listened to with enthusiasm.

10. Oroonoko, a negro prince of fascinating natural beauty, loved Imoinda, a generals
daughter. They sought her for the kings harem, and in the end the king sold her into
slavery when he discovered her love for Oroonoko.
 She was sought for the kings harem and in the end sold into slavery when the
king discovered her love for Oroonoko.
.
GET dark, late, old, short, to know, angry, dressed, married
BECOME acquainted, accustomed, ill, friends, silent, stronger, thin
GROW cold, weak, dark, calm, grey, green with envy
COME true, loose, right, undone, untight
GO mad, to pieces, bald, pale, sick, wrong
TURN red, black, sour, white, pale, to ice, to rain
FALL sick / ill, dark, asleep, in love

Our headmaster donated the first prize. What?


The first prize was donated by our headmaster. Who?

A man is waiting in the hall.


There is a man waiting in the hall.

I like Cheddar cheese best.


Its Cheddar cheese I like best.

My uncle owns the largest bookshop (in the city).


The largest bookshop (in the city) belongs o my uncle.

80
GENDER
(A handout)

As a category it plays a relatively minor role in Modern English. Mind that being of natural character it only
shows in selection of deixis, namely, we choose between he / she/ it (and their case forms), and relative who /
which.
In other languages, e.g. Latin, Czech, German, gender is truly a grammatical category (while semantic references
are scant - only to persons and some animals) which shows in certain declension models, in syntactic congruence
(i.e. agreement), and in selection of deixis. For instance (after L. Dukov): Jana mla na sob nov aty, kter j
velmi sluely.

Dual gender.

Profesor Brown < Professor Brown and his wife X and her husband.
friend, cook, cousin, member, guest. soldier, lawyer, baker

Masculine-feminine gender.

host > hostess, actor actress, count countess, emperor empress, duke duchess;
hero heroine, usher usherette, czar czarina, prosecutor prosecutrix ; bride <
bridegroom, widow widower;

woman teacher women teachers, boy students, female readers, maid servants;
pussy-cat; she-goat; dog-otter bitch-otter; peacock peahen.

man woman, boy girl, nephew niece, monk nun, bachelor spinster;
0 witch, dandy 0;
son daughter, boy girl >> child;
father mother >> parent.

stallion mare (horse), cock hen (fowl), stag hind )deer), boar sow (swine, pig), ram
ewe (sheep);
bull cow, dog bitch, gander goose, drake duck, fox vixen;

The student receives creditsif he or she has worked well. (if s/he has)
Nobody prevents you, dont they?
Every child reacts in its own way. X A childs acquisition of his mother tongue. X That child
will be sick if she eats any more.
youth m. X a young person f.; fellow m., schoolfellow / schoolmate m.,f.

Personification.

England is proud of HER great poets. A vessel was unloading HER cargo.

sun m. (<L. sol), moon f. (< L. luna), earth f. (< L. terra)

masc.: death, vices, war, time, anger, law, murder... X love


femin.: spring, nature, victory, liberty, mercy...

81
SUBJUNCTIVE
(A handout)

1. indicative subjunctive
She lives here. Long live the Queen!
He is drunk. He walks as if he were drunk.
I have time enough. I wish I had time enough.
I was not there, and so If I had been there,
I could not help him. I could have helped him.

2. simple subjunctive periphrastic subjunctive


Grammar be hanged! Speak slowly so that they may understand.
She insisted that he go. She insisted that he should go.

present perfect pluperfect


be were had been
go went had gone
3. relative: parallel anterior

4. it is / was (high) time; if, if only, I wish, as though, as if; would rather / sooner

5. He talks / He talked as if he knew everything. [now, then]


6. He talks / He talked as if he had not heard about it. [before]

7. I wish I were you. I wish / I wished / He wished I had been with you.
I would rather you went along. I would rather you had stayed.

8. now in the past


If I were you If I had been there
If he wrote If he had written

9. Write to him so that he may know X I wrote to him so that he might know

I am buying plenty of coal I bought plenty of coal


in order that the house will be warm in order that the house would be warm
in winter. in winter.
.
God forgive you. God bless you. Long may you live. Tomorrow we shall go to the woods if
the weather be fine. It is requested that all members be present. We suggest that Ann go with
you. If that old tree had fallen on the house, it would have smashed the roof. If it had not
rained at night, the children could play in the garden now. Were I rich Id travel a lot. If you
would let me have an answer by return of mail, Id be very grateful to you. If you should see
him there, get out of his way. Hed certainly come unless he were busy. What would happen
supposing the world stopped spinning? But for the storm we should have arrived earlier. She
spoke as though she were a film star. He talks as if he had seen it with his own eyes. Even if I
began at once, I would not finish in time. He wished he had seen it. I wish you would be
quiet. I wished it would not rain. He said she talked as if she knew something. He put a
statement in the newspaper in order that everyone might know what he had done. She feared
lest he should get lost in the mist. He took a torch in case it got dark (it should get dark)
before he returned.
He dyed his beard so that nobody would recognize him.  not to be recognized

82
[9]
COMPETITION OF INFINITIVE AND GERUND.

Infinitive and gerund, together with participle belong among so-called non-finite verb forms.
From the point of view of traditional morphology they are unvaried, as illustrated by love
loving loved, write writing written. As you know, loving / writing are the forms of both
the gerund and the present participle, loved / written are past participles. By the way, in earlier
stages of English the forms of the present participle and the verbal noun (say, gerund)
differed, e.g., writende : writing. You will also know, I believe, that infinitive and gerund
exist in their present and past forms, even in respective continuous forms, and they also
express verbal voice, i.e., active and passive.

infinitive
VOICE PRESENT PAST

SIMPLE to call to have called


to write to have written
ACTIVE .
CONTINUOUS to be calling to have been calling
to be writing to have been writing
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PASSIVE to be called to have been called
to be written to have been written

gerund
VOICE PRESENT PAST

ACTIVE calling having called


writing having written
-------------------------------------------------------------------
PASSIVE being called having been called
being written having been written

participle
PRESENT PAST PERFECT

calling called having called


writing written having written

What we have to bear in mind is the fact that the labels present and past refer to forms
only; functionally, however, the former depicts an action parallel to the action expressed by
the finite verb, whereas the latter a successive one, e.g.

PARALLEL SUCCESSIVE

I am glad that I meet you. I am glad that I met you.


I was glad that I met you. I was glad that I had met you.

I am glad I am glad
I was glad to meet you. I was glad to have met you.

Before we begin to discuss the issue of competition of infinitive and gerund, we must revise
briefly what we know of the syntactic functions of either form. Then we will state in which

83
syntactic positions the infinitive and the gerund cross, namely, in which positions both non-
finite forms can appear. Once this is done, we can raise questions such as Is the choice
between one and the other form a matter of mere privilege, or preference, from the speakers
part? or Does the use of either form bring about a change in meaning?, namely, is our
selection obligatory?
OK. Where does the infinitive appear? As for syntax, the infinitive can function as any
sentence member. It is worth noting, however, that only very seldom will it appear in the
subject position; rather the so-called preparatory it is used, and the infinitive proper is made
the complement of the predicate. Thus the possible yet less idiomatic (*)To leave now is
necessary. will read It is necessary to leave. And similarly, It is a great pleasure for me to
welcome you on board. In all other cases the infinitive is a condenser of respective
subordinate clauses. Examples: He made up his mind to leave. Youre old enough to
understand. In this context, lets revise also what is called traditionally accusativus cum
infinitivo, nominativus cum infinitivo, as in Wed like them to come along. Shes supposed
to to have left abroad., sometimes with so-called secondary subject, e.g. It is too late for me
to start again.
Now, as far as the gerund is concerned, this is a sort of hybrid form, in the sense that it
has both verbal and nominal properties. Besides others it means that it can stand after
prepositions, namely, in the syntactic position where neither the finite verb nor the infinitive
can occur. Thus it aptly combines the need of expressing an action, as verbs do, with the
syntactic position normally reserved for nouns. Examples: He left without paying. She is fond
of cooking. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Like infinitive and participle, gerund, too, can work as grammatical condensation (of
potential sub-clauses). In other words, it represents one sentence-forming element (the
predicate), the other member being identical with the subject of the main clause, or different
from one, and so expressed explicitly as the so-called inner (or secondary) subject. The two
situations can be illustrated by the following: Would you mind opening the window? vs.
Would you mind my opening the window?
Briefly, gerund can fill in any syntactic position, namely, it can act as (1) subject, e.g.,
Learning Czech is difficult., (2) object, e.g., I remember leaving the keys on the desk., (3)
attribute, e.g., She was in danger of being left alone., and (4) circumstantials, of different
types, such as of time, cause, manner, purpose, condition, e.g., Think twice before answering.
He apologized for being late. They ended by going to the pictures. He studied languages with
the intention of becoming an interpreter. You cant leave without saying goodbye.
Finally, gerund is required by certain verbs, the full list of those is difficult to make.
Once I did my best to establish certain types, or categories of such verbs, about which you can
read in my textbook The English Verb. At present we do not need to bother about it, simply
because just our present main topic will take many of them into consideration. Do we say,
e.g., He began to cry. OR He began crying.? - Try to do it. OR Try doing it. ? And so on.

In order to answer questions like these we have to consider semantics of the infinitive
and the gerund.
Lets revise the fact that some verbs require the gerund only, while others can be
accompanied with both the gerund and the infinitive. In such a case, the use of one or the
other competing form may bring about a change in meaning. At least the following two
examples will illustrate: He tried to start the engine. (= He made attempts to start the
engine.) vs. He tried starting the engine. (= He started the engine so as to see) Those
who speak Czech will sense the difference: Pokouel se nastartovat. vs. Zkusil nastartovat.
On the other hand, there are utterances in which we do not normally sense the
difference in meaning no matter if we use the gerund or the infinitive. This is quite common

84
in case of verbs implying ingressive and terminative aspects, as e.g., He tried to start the
engine. (= He made attempts to start the engine.) vs. He tried starting the engine. (= He
started the engine so as to see) Those who speak Czech will sense the difference: Pokouel
se nastartovat. vs. Zkusil nastartovat. A deeper insight into the issue, however, will show that
the choice between the gerund and the infinitive brings about certain implications, namely,
subtleties in meaning.
As a matter of act, all problems involved must be observed within the system to which
the gerund and the infinitive belong, namely, all studies on the two forms have to be carried
out in terms of comparing their functions with other linguistic forms, including the finite verb.
While the gerund and the infinitive are very close units as defined from the grammatical point
of view, they are different in their semantics. They represent a binary opposition, as for their
markedness: the infinitive is an impersonal expression of the action conceived in an
abstract way, i.e. the action which is imaginatively unreal. [I. Poldauf] Hence it follows
that the infinitive points only to abstractness, while the gerund seems to be neutral in this
respect, practically good enough to express both concrete and abstract actions. Let us note
then that predication on the action proper must be viewed as real, and so the use of the
infinitive is excluded: we say, e.g., Shooting began., only, and not *To shoot began.
Nevertheless, when the action in its progress is made dependent on the subject (agent), it is
predicated as becoming real rather than fully real. Thus the speaker has two possibilities: to
choose simply the gerund, e.g., He began shooting., or to stress the fact that only something
so far unreal can be started then the infinitive will be preferred to point to the original
unreality of the action: He began to shoot. As we pointed out here above, practitioners are
right to say that the use of gerund or infinitive after the verbs implying the ingressive phase
makes no difference. Then it seems to be logic that the gerund is mostly used to accompany
the verbs expressing continuation and termination of actions, since these actions are real. Thus
we say, e.g., She kept on talking. She stopped talking.
The same evaluation will be arrived at if the diachronic approach is taken into
account. Let us consider the present-day particle to: together with the infinitive it was a
preposition, primarily indicating direction (in physical sense), and later also purpose-ness (in
abstract sense). Logically, the full infinitive must express the action which points to future,
namely, the action which at the present moment (at the moment of speech proper) is
conceived as unreal. (Even in Modern English we come across instances of this original use,
e.g., A house to let. Lets compare the Old English inflected infinitive, as in to faedane.) As a
matter of fact, actions that are meant to occur in future cannot well be regarded as fully real!1
Considering these circumstances we will understand the already classical example He stopped
to smoke. (= in order to have a smoke) as contrasted to He stopped smoking. (= He gave
up the habit of smoking.) In the former version we imply, in fact, that at the moment of his
halt he was not smoking yet.

Things are more complex, though; Ill try to offer some hints to help you understand
the ingenious interplay of language phenomena (at least in this respect).
The total meaning of the utterance is not controlled by the mere choice between the
gerund and the infinitive as grammatical forms; also semantics of the head verbs must be
taken into consideration. Namely, their semantic areas are usually fairly large, and it is just
one or the other non-finite form of their complement that narrows down the final meaning. As
a matter of fact, we have to count with the interplay of three factors, namely, semantics of the

1
Let us note that what we call the future tense proper is a compounded one, consisting of the infinitive and the
modals shall / will. The more real the action is (judged by the speaker, or objectively), the greater chance there
is to use the present tense instead: compare, e.g., I will take it away. > I am going to take it away. > I am taking
it away (tonight).

85
given phase verb, semantics of the complement verb, and the function of its non-finite form.
In order to illustrate, in the abovementioned examples He stopped to smoke / smoking. the
infinitive matches the meaning halt, and the gerund give up / cease, respectively.1 And
similarly, remember, too, will portion its lexical meanings due to its complement forms,
e.g.: I must remember to buy stamps. vs. I remember buying stamps. The infinitive of its
imaginatively unreal function will point to future, judging from the present tense in the
predicate proper; the total meaning of the former utterance is something like I must not forget
to buy stamps. In the latter utterance we combine the meaning remember = not forget
with the gerund-function, the form of which is the simplified one of the expected past having
bought: hence the total meaning will be something like I recollect the moment when I was
buying / I bought the stamps.2

The abovementioned competition of the gerund and the infinitive occurs in all
syntactic positions where the two forms exist. As we can learn from Prof. Poldauf, the
infinitive as subject is used when the speaker makes evaluation of the action, no matter in
what way, e.g., It is difficult to learn Czech.; and as we can read in some practical grammars,
such as Thomson-Martinet, the gerund is chosen in order to point to the speakers experience
with the action, e.g., Learning Czech is difficult. Put in other words around, the infinitive is an
impersonal expression of the action -- in all other cases gerund is preferred.
As far as the attributive position is concerned, both forms can be used, the infinitive showing
its imaginatively unreal function. Let us compare: She is not a woman lying about her age.
vs. She is not a woman to lie about her age.3 And finally, the competition of gerund and
infinitive in the object position can be explained in easy terms, too: we can only say, e.g., I
wish to know. I wish you to know., using the infinitive, since the action know is evidently
unreal.
Note: Lets notice how the use of the infinitive or the gerund resolves the ambiguity. For example: He
was slow to write anything. : He was slow in reading the passage. The infinitive in the former sentence shows
that the action write was something unreal, hence the meaning of slow relates to the property of the person
he, i.e., we could interpret the whole utterance as he was reluctant / lazy (?) to write. In the latter sentence
slow refers to the act of writing proper, namely, he was reading slowly.

-o0o-

1
Paraphrasing dictionaries, stop implies ending of some motion, action, or progress, while cease an ending of
some state or condition or of an existence.
2
Paraphrasing dictionaries, briefly, remember means, besides others, to bear in mind / be careful not to forget,
and to have sb./st. come to mind again.
3
You may find it interesting to learn that in some languages the difference will be shown by using indicative in
the former case and subjunctive in the latter. For example, in Spanish ...que miente vs. que mienta. Also in
Czech kter le vs. kter by lhala.

86
Competition of infinitive and gerund.
(A handout.)

infinitive
VOICE PRESENT PAST

SIMPLE to call to have called


to write to have written
ACTIVE .
CONTINUOUS to be calling to have been calling
to be writing to have been writing
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PASSIVE to be called to have been called
to be written to have been written

gerund
VOICE PRESENT PAST

ACTIVE calling having called


writing having written
-------------------------------------------------------------------
PASSIVE being called having been called
being written having been written

participle
PRESENT PAST PERFECT

calling called having called


writing written having written

relativity of temporal dimensions


PARALLEL SUCCESSIVE

I am glad that I meet you. I am glad that I met you.


I was glad that I met you. I was glad that I had met you.

I am glad I am glad
I was glad to meet you. I was glad to have met you.

(*)To leave now is necessary. It is necessary to leave. It is a great pleasure for me to


welcome you on board.

Condenser: He made up his mind to leave. Youre old enough to understand.

accusativus cum infinitivo, nominativus cum infinitivo: Wed like them to come along. Shes
supposed to to have left abroad. + secondary subject: It is too late for me to start again.

He left without paying. She is fond of cooking. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Would you mind opening the window? vs. Would you mind my opening the window?

Learning Czech is difficult.


I remember leaving the keys on the desk.

87
She was in danger of being left alone.
Think twice before answering. He apologized for being late. They ended by going to the
pictures. He studied languages with the intention of becoming an interpreter. You cant leave
without saying goodbye.

He began to cry. He began crying. - Try to do it. Try doing it.

He tried to start the engine. (= He made attempts to start the engine. Pokouel se
nastartovat.) vs. He tried starting the engine. (= He started the engine so as to see Zkusil
nastartovat.)

Infinitive is an impersonal expression of the action conceived in an abstract


[I. Poldauf]
way, i.e. the action which is imaginatively unreal.  the infinitive points only to
abstractness.
Gerund seems to express both concrete and abstract actions.

Shooting began. He began shooting / to shoot.

She kept on talking. She stopped talking.

He stopped to smoke. (= in order to have a smoke) vs. He stopped smoking. (= He gave


up the habit of smoking.)

I must remember to buy stamps. vs. I remember buying stamps.

It is difficult to learn Czech. - Learning Czech is difficult.

She is not a woman lying about her age. vs. She is not a woman to lie about her age.

I wish to know. I wish you to know.

He was slow to write anything. vs. He was slow in reading the passage.

88
[10]
FUNCTIONAL SENTENCE PERSPECTIVE.

In the 1920s Prof. Vilm Mathesius came in with the idea of so-called Aktuln lenn vtn,
something that was elaborated by the advocates of the Prague School as FSP. Very briefly, to
start with, texts are (should be) established in such a way that we begin with the information
which is familiar to the listener / reader, namely, to the interlocutor, or recipient of the
message, and proceeds toward a new piece of information, which we, as speakers / writers
want to say as something novel. This strategy is believed to work on the level of sentences, as
well as larger passages, such as paragraphs, simply in texts in the broader sense of the term.
Lets now explain the theory of FSP piecemeal, beginning with examples on the
simple-sentence level.
Those of you who had a chance to follow the talk on the passive voice will remember
the prototypical sentences Our Headmaster donated the first prize. The first prize was
donated by our Headmaster. Both of them bring about the same meaning, once we speak in
terms of so-called cognitive meaning. And yet they are not altogether identical! The former
answers the question What did he [our Headmaster] donate?, the latter Who donated the
first prize? Did you understand what, or better: which part of the utterances referred to the
familiar circumstances, and which was THE new, respectively? Certainly, our headmaster /
the first prize are the parts of the utterances with which the interlocutor will be familiar, while
the first prize / our headmaster as shown in the respective sentences convey the new pieces of
information, respectively. Lets use the terms which are now employed to depict the
respective parts of the utterance: THEME RHEME. By the way, these correspond to what
Mathesius called psychological subject and psychological predicate. And lets us add that
later advocates of this approach elaborated the functional structure of the sentence by
distinguishing the centre of Th, the centre of Rh, and transition (or transitional
elements). And still later, J. Firbas and his disciples (including our late Prof. Ales Svoboda)
worked on the idea of functional pluripartition of the sentence, namely one of several
thematic, transitional and rhematic units, seen as the outcome of the interplay of four factors
of FSP, i.e., context, semantics, linearity, and (in the spoken language) intonation.
Now, from the very beginning:
Text, and its lower parts, are arranged in such a way that we begin with saying what is
generally known, and proceed toward what is new. In unmarked sentences, Rh becomes a Th
in the following sentence, and so on, e.g., Once upon a time there was a king, and the king
had three daughters. And Of course, sometimes we may feel a need to make the rhematic
piece of information fairly prominent, for many reasons, e.g., to show contrast, to attract
listeners attention, and the like. The sentence is said to be marked, then. Our sample sentence
can read like this: and three daughters had the king. Here, as you will understand, the
Firbas factor of intonation will play its important role.
It is evident that not always is such a swap of syntactic elements possible. At least not
in all languages. Lets compare Czech and English, and Latin (for those who do not speak
Czech), and perhaps also German.
Pater amat filium.
Otec miluje syna.
Der Vater liebt den Sohn.
Father loves [his] son.
In all these languages Th is placed at the beginning, and Rh at the end, precisely as required
by FSP. However, once we think in terms of marked situation, the syntax of our sample
languages will differ. Lets compare:
Filium amat pater.

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Syna miluje otec.
Den Sohn liebt der Vater.
But hardly *[His] son loves Father.
The situation weve been considering seems to be one of spoken utterances; yet the
sentences can easily be used in written performances too. Except in English! It is obvious that
placing the new piece of information initially is more probable in languages which are able to
show the difference between the subject and the object on morphological grounds. Thus in
Czech the suffix a in syna, -um in the Latin filium, or the article den in the German den Sohn
will rank the respective words as syntactic objects. This is impossible in Modern English,
simply because we dont have any markers, any morphological signals to show the difference
between the syntactic subject and object. Generally speaking, the less possibility of showing
relations between words through morphological signals, the more strict the word-order.
NOTE: No wonder that the greatest chance of being posited posited initially there is for adverbials;
these are signaled in some or the other way to such an extent that they can be shifted, e.g, Tomorrow well fly to
Paris. Smoothly all that went. Right you are! On the desk there is a pen.

At first sight the whole case may be taken for granted speaking your mother tongue
you wont run into problems. Once you try to learn a foreign language, however, this issue
becomes worth considering.
NOTE: Learning Spanish, for instance, youll be instructed to employ signals in form of pronouns, e.g.,
Al hijo le quiere el padre.
English, evidently lacking morphological exponents, will differ much from Czech, or
even from German. More precisely, the means we have to use in Czech or German, on the one
hand, and in English, on the other hand, in order to comply with the requirements of FSP will
be partly identical, partly different. Lets compare and think about the following examples:

Otec bije syna. - Syna bije otec.


El padre pega al hijo. - Al hijo le pega el padre.
Der Vater schlaegt den Sohn. - Den Sohn schlaegt der Vater.
Father beats [his] son. - The son is beaten by [his] father.

As in the previous example, here, too, the marked equivalent of Father beats his son cannot at
all be *The son beats his Father, simply because the meanings of the two utterances would
then be 180 degrees different. As we sense it, in the former case we answer the potential
question Whom does Father beat?, whereas in the latter the question must have read Who
beats the son?. In order to solve the problem the Modern English has the passive
construction at its disposal: The son is beaten by his father. Only in such a way two conditions
are met all right, namely, the syntactic word-order is preserved, and the FSP is observed, too.
NOTE: May I remind you of the talk on the passive: then we discussed similar examples, besides other
also this: Our Headmaster donated the first prize. The first prize was donated by our Headmaster. Then we
learnt, too, that the passive was not the only means in English to comply with the principle of FSP and grammar,
namely, the word-order. We must marvel at the interplay which certain grammatical means represent in English,
e.g., indefinite article, which fits just the requirement of FSP to introduce a new piece of information:
Na stole je (njak) kniha.
Auf dem Tisch ist ein Buch.
Sobre la mesa hay un libro.
On the desk is a book. >> On the desk there is a book.
There is a book on the desk.
(*) A book is on the desk.

-o0o-

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These were some simple, almost trivial examples of practical outcomes of the research
in FSP. An extensive literature exists on the topic and issues, written by scholars working at
Brno University mostly during the past 30 years. Great attention has been paid to factors that
have a say in FSP, and to their interplay. I mentioned this already. Lets add a few words
more on the topic now.
The factors are four. In the beginning, V.Mathesius worked with one of them
only, namely linearity, which is represented by word-order. He and others found out that
what is known often stands at the beginning of the sentence, while what is said about the
known tends to be placed at the end. These are terms which assume another factor to enter
the scene, namely semantics. At Mathesius time, however, this very vaguely formulated
factor was not approached, because they rather came up with a conclusion that what is
known is known within the given context, and what is said about it is context-free. And so
a new factor began to be recognized, namely context1: then context-bound components of
sentences tend to be placed initially, while context-free ones tend to be posited finally. As we
may have noticed, this is not always the case; and so we have sentences wherein context-free
elements stand at the beginning which is a signal of emotional marked-ness. Or, better to
say: it may be. For this differs from language to language. And again, as early as Mathesius
discovered that in English the sentences with a context-free beginning were not emotional, but
rather quite neutral, unmarked. Hence, logically at first sight, the consequence of his findings
was that English was not sensitive enough to FSP. What his followers discovered, and just
Firbas was the first to have done so, the factor called intonation (in its broad sense of the
term) came to the scene. (This fact has much to do with the orientation of linguistic research:
previously scholars were interested in written texts only, neglecting the spoken form of
languages.)

We cannot describe everything that our Prague scholars have achieved. However, two
more points at least will be worth noting.
In gradual developing of the utterance certain elements are determined to be usually
less significant than others, due to their semantic load. For instance, in Czech the personal
suffixes in verb paradigm are mostly context-bound and thus less important; likewise the
English unstressed personal pronouns. And so also prepositions, conjunctions, etc. Following
these facts, Firbas analyzed several thousands of sentences from the point of view of
functional relevance of their components and arrived at defining two basic scales.
See the handout, scales A, B.
A-scale is evidently simpler than B-scale: Scene (or Setting) is common to both of them, but
then the scales differ. While in A-scale Appearance and Phenomenon will do, in B-scale
Property (defined as Bearer and Quality) and Specification (of the Property) are distinguished.
In any case it holds that the respective elements (or components) are arranged according to the
increasing communicative relevance, or significance. As you will understand, the least
significant is the Scene - it is a sort of starting element. Then the Phenomenon proper is the
target of information, referred to as Focus.
Now, lets examine the concrete examples, or illustrations of A-scale arrangements. (I
copy the examples as once offered by Prof. Svoboda in his book.)
V dlce zatkal pes.
In der Ferne bellte ein Hund.
A dog barked in the distance.
If you think that the English version does not correspond to the Czech and German ones,
youre quite right. Namely, it holds that the defined semantic components retain their degrees

1
I think that context as the term used here can be understood in the sense I explained earlier in my talks, thus
combining something that embraces both word co-text and situational co-text.

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of communicative significance no matter what linear arrangement must be observed in
respective languages.
Lets note that semantic roles have to be understood as dynamic. For example, the
verb barked /bellte / hat gebellt. In A-scale it has its typical function of appearing on the
scene, while in B-scale it refers to quality. Hence it follows that one and the same formal
component of the sentence can occur in various semantic roles, and thus it can gain various
degrees of communicative significance. Lets compare the sentences in our three languages as
illustrations in B-scale:
N pes vera tkal na souseda.
Unser Hund hat gestern unserem Nachbarn angebellt.
Our dog barked at our neighbour yesterday.
In these utterances the component at our neighbour and its Czech and German equivalents
appear as Specifications, although their syntactic positions, namely what here is referred to as
linearity, are different.
The more evident is the change as illustrated by yesterday see the handout:
N pes tkal na souseda jen vera.
Unser Hund hat unserem Nachbarn nur gerstern angebellt.
While yesterday was nothing but the Scene in the above-discussed B-scale, now it is one of
Specifications, and hence the most significant semantic component. Its syntactic position can
vary, also due to the factor of Intonation. Suffices to compare:
Our dog barked at our neighbour only yesterday.
Our dog barked only yesterday at our neighbour.
Only yesterday our dog barked at our neighbour.
The conclusion is that different languages have partially identical and partially different
means of signalling the difference between Scene / Setting and Specification: Context as one
of the factors works well in all the three languages, Linearity in Czech and German,
Intonation in all the three too, but in English Intonation is very often the only means!

The other point I promised to mention is the following: What Firbas managed to show is that
the communicative significance, namely communicative dynamism in his terminology, of
respective sentence components is the result of interplay of all the factors of FSP, not of the
working of individual factors separately.
Hence we can say that all Indo-European languages show approximately the same
sensitivity to FSP. The all have means of their own to signal relatively different significance
of components. And, by the way, the four factors represent a certain degree of functional
redundancy: very often the result of interplay of only three factors will be so persuasive that
the fourth factor acts as a sort of accompanying one.
Nevertheless, results of the interplay of the factors are mapped on the respective
sentence components as degrees of communicative dynamism, which Firbas defines as
follows:
[Mathesius, paraphrase] The degree of communicative dynamism is a relative measure
with which a linguistic component enriches the utterance, and in this sense, it adds to its
development. There is no unit of information; rather they are to express relative contribution
of respective communicative elements to meet the communicative goal.

-o0o-

92
Functional Sentence Perspective.
(A handout)

V. Mathesus: Aktuln lenn vtn.


Our Headmaster donated the first prize. The first prize was donated by our Headmaster.
THEME RHEME
Once upon a time there was a king, and the king had three daughters. And

Pater amat filium.


Otec miluje syna.
Der Vater liebt den Sohn.
Father loves [his] son.

Filium amat pater.


Syna miluje otec.
Den Sohn liebt der Vater.
Al hijo le quiere el padre.
*[His] son loves Father.

Otec bije syna. - Syna bije otec.


El padre pega al hijo. - Al hijo le pega el padre.
Der Vater schlaegt den Sohn. - Den Sohn schlaegt der Vater.
Father beats [his] son. - The son is beaten by [his] father.

Na stole je (njak) kniha.


Auf dem Tisch ist ein Buch.
Sobre la mesa hay un libro.
On the desk is a book. >> On the desk there is a book.
There is a book on the desk.
(*) A book is on the desk.

factors of FSP: linearity


semantics
context
intonation

A-scale: Appearance, Phenomenon (Focus)

V dlce zatkal pes.


In der Ferne bellte ein Hund.
A dog barked in the distance.

B-scale: Property (defined as Bearer and Quality) + Specification (of the Property)

N pes vera tkal na souseda.


Unser Hund hat gestern unserem Nachbarn angebellt.
Our dog barked at our neighbour yesterday.

N pes tkal na souseda jen vera.


Unser Hund hat unserem Nachbarn nur gerstern angebellt.

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Our dog barked at our neighbour only yesterday.
Our dog barked only yesterday at our neighbour.
Only yesterday our dog barked at our neighbour.

communicative dynamism

degrees of communicative dynamism

[Mathesius, paraphrase] The degree of communicative dynamism is a relative measure


with which a linguistic component enriches the utterance, and in this sense, it adds to its
development. There is no unit of information; rather they are to express relative contribution
of respective communicative elements to meet the communicative goal.

94

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