Cognitive Linguistics in the Making 3631652003, 9783631652008

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The papers in this book address the most fundamental, currently investigated problems in cognitive linguistics in a wide spectrum of perspectives. Apart from some traditional descriptions of particular metaphors and metonymies, there are analyses of spatio-temporal relations, motion and stillness, iconicity, force dynamics, as well as subjectivity and objectivity in language. The analyses are based on a number of languages: English, Polish, Russian, German, Lithuanian, Italian and Danish. The essays represent case studies, theoretical analyses as well as practical applications.

Aleksander Szwedek is Professor of Linguistics at the University of Social Sciences in Warsaw. His current interest is the theory of metaphor: the importance of touch and object in metaphorization. Kinga Rudnicka-Szozda is Assistant Professor of Linguistics at the University of Social Sciences in Warsaw. She is currently interested in cognitive pragmatics and cross-cultural communication.

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ISBN 978-3-631-65200-8

Kinga Rudnicka-Szozdaâ•›/â•›Aleksander Szwedek (eds.) · Cognitive Linguistics in the Making

17

Warsaw Studies in English Language and Literature Edited by Jacek Fisiak

Cognitive Linguistics in the Making Kinga Rudnicka-Szozda Aleksander Szwedek (eds.)

17

The papers in this book address the most fundamental, currently investigated problems in cognitive linguistics in a wide spectrum of perspectives. Apart from some traditional descriptions of particular metaphors and metonymies, there are analyses of spatio-temporal relations, motion and stillness, iconicity, force dynamics, as well as subjectivity and objectivity in language. The analyses are based on a number of languages: English, Polish, Russian, German, Lithuanian, Italian and Danish. The essays represent case studies, theoretical analyses as well as practical applications.

Aleksander Szwedek is Professor of Linguistics at the University of Social Sciences in Warsaw. His current interest is the theory of metaphor: the importance of touch and object in metaphorization. Kinga Rudnicka-Szozda is Assistant Professor of Linguistics at the University of Social Sciences in Warsaw. She is currently interested in cognitive pragmatics and cross-cultural communication.

www.peterlang.com

Kinga Rudnicka-Szozdaâ•›/â•›Aleksander Szwedek (eds.) · Cognitive Linguistics in the Making

17

Warsaw Studies in English Language and Literature Edited by Jacek Fisiak

Cognitive Linguistics in the Making Kinga Rudnicka-Szozda Aleksander Szwedek (eds.)

17

Cognitive Linguistics in the Making

WARSAW STUDIES IN ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE Edited by Jacek Fisiak

Editorial Board Magdalena Bator Assistant to the Editor Members Janusz Arabski (Katowice), Michael Bilynski (Warsaw), Andrzej Ceynowa (Gdańsk), Piotr Chruszczewski (Wrocław), Maria Dakowska (Warsaw), Richard Dance (Cambridge), Hans Juergen Diller (Bochum), Katarzyna Dziubalska-Kołaczyk (Poznań), Simon Horobin (Oxford), Barbara Kowalik (Warsaw), Wiesław Krajka (Lublin), Grzegorz Kleparski (Rzeszów), Marcin Krygier (Poznań), Tomasz Krzeszowski (Warsaw), Merja Kytö (Uppsala), Katarzyna Małecka (Łódź), Donka Minkova (Los Angeles), Rafał Molencki (Katowice), Michiko Ogura (Chiba, Japan), John G. Newman (Brownsville, TX, USA), Dennis Preston (Norman, OK, USA), Geoffrey Russom (Providence, RI, USA), Hans Sauer (Munich), Herbert Schendl (Vienna), Janusz Semrau (Poznań/Warsaw), Liliana Sikorska (Poznań/Warsaw), Marta Sylwanowicz (Warsaw), Aleksander Szwedek (Warsaw), Irma Taavitsainen (Helsinki), Wolfgang Viereck (Bamberg), Jerzy Wełna (Warsaw), Andrzej Wicher (Łódź), Maciej Widawski (Gdańsk), Władysław Witalisz (Cracow), Jacek Witkoś (Poznań), Jerzy Zybert (Warsaw)

VOL. 17

Kinga Rudnicka-Szozda/ Aleksander Szwedek (eds.)

Cognitive Linguistics in the Making

Bibliographic Information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Cognitive linguistics in the making / Rudnicka-Szozda, Kinga ; Szwedek, Aleksander (eds.). -- Peter Lang edition. pages cm -- (Warsaw Studies in English Language and Literature, Vol. 17) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-3-631-65200-8 (alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-3-653-04654-0 (E-Book) 1. Cognitive grammar. 2. Psycholinguistics. I. Rudnicka-Szozda, Kinga, 1980- editor. II. Szwedek, A. J., editor. P165.C6445 2014 415--dc23 2014027219 This publication was financially supported by the University of Social Sciences. ISSN 2082-7350 ISBN 978-3-631-65200-84 (Print) E-ISBN 978-3-653-04654-0 (E-Book) DOI 10.3726/978-3-653-04654-0 © Peter Lang GmbH Internationaler Verlag der Wissenschaften Frankfurt am Main 2014 All rights reserved. Peter Lang Edition is an Imprint of Peter Lang GmbH. Peter Lang – Frankfurt am Main ∙ Bern ∙ Bruxelles ∙ New York ∙ Oxford ∙ Warszawa ∙ Wien All parts of this publication are protected by copyright. Any utilisation outside the strict limits of the copyright law, without the permission of the publisher, is forbidden and liable to prosecution. This applies in particular to reproductions, translations, microfilming, and storage and processing in electronic retrieval systems. This publication has been peer reviewed. www.peterlang.com

Foreword The present volume contains a selection of papers reflecting current research in Poland in the vital, fertile and rapidly developing area of cognitive linguistics. The selection of papers displays the wealth and centrality of the field in the worldwide, ongoing search for fundamental relations between culture, cognition, mind and language. The papers cover an impressive array of topics, languages and theoretical approaches to various aspects of cognition and linguistics. We hope that the selection will not only be informative, but will also inspire further research in all areas of cognitive linguistics. Special thanks are due to Dr Zdzisław Szymański, the Vice-Rector and Prof. Jacek Fisiak, Dr h.c. (mult.), Director of the School of English of the University of Social Sciences in Warsaw for their unwavering encouragement and support throughout this ambitious enterprise. Kinga Rudnicka-Szozda and Aleksander Szwedek (Editors)

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Contents Bogusław Bierwiaczonek On constructivization – a few remarks on the role of metonymy in grammar...............................................................................................11 Beata Brzozowska-Zburzyńska A concept of container in temporal phrases – a comparative study.....................31 Marta Falkowska Subjectivity and objectivity in language as seen by Louis Hjelmslev and Ronald W. Langacker........................................................................41 Błażej Garczyński A cognitive analysis of spatial particles in Danish ENHEDSFORBINDELSER and corresponding compounds.................................51 Agnieszka Gicala A cognitive analysis of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its Polish translations: linguistic worldview in translation criticism....................................................................................................65 Adam Głaz When -ities collide. Virtuality, actuality, reality......................................................77 Anna Kędra-Kardela Iconicity and the literary text: A cognitive analysis................................................89 Krzysztof Kosecki On multiple metonymic mappings in signed languages..................................... 105 Marcin Kuczok The metonymic mappings within the event schema in noun-to-verb back-formations............................................................................... 119 Anna Kuncy-Zając The concepts of sleep and death in the Italian language and the unidirectionality of metaphor.................................................................. 133 7

Marek Kuźniak, Jacek Woźny Linguistic Force Dynamics and physics................................................................ 145 Katarzyna Kwapisz-Osadnik The notion of prototype in linguistics and didactics, revisited.......................... 161 Aleksandra Majdzińska Using cognitive tools in analysing variant construals: the remakes of “The Scream” by Edvard Munch.......................................................... 173 Józef Marcinkiewicz The metaphor in feedback transfer in L2 acquisition (with some examples of the interaction between the Polish and Lithuanian languages)...................................................................................... 185 Jolanta Mazurkiewicz-Sokołowska The process of language acquisition by a child with profound hearing loss and co-existing defects as a contribution to the proposal on the need for a comprehensive approach to the phenomenon of human language capability......................................................... 197 Maciej Paprocki Infecting the body politic? Modern and post-modern (ab)use of Immigrants Are Invading Pathogens metaphor in American socio-political discourse.......................................................................................... 211 Judit Pethő-Szirmai A cognitive investigation of the category of sin................................................... 231 Małgorzata Płomińska Linguistic and cultural image of the notion of ‘death’ in Polish and German................................................................................................... 249 Joanna Podhorodecka ‘Do we always like doing the things that we like to do?’ Non-finite complementation of the verb Like...................................................... 271 Beata Rycielska What do the Russian prefixes вы-, из- and the preposition из have in common and what makes them different?.............................................. 287 8

Olga Sokołowska Metonymy and metaphor as merging categories. A study of linguistic expressions referring to the face ...................................................... 309 Elżbieta Tabakowska Iconicity and (cognitive) grammar: where shall the twain meet?............................................................................................................... 319 Jacek Tadeusz Waliński Motion as a modulator of spatiotemporal relations in prepositional expressions of distance.................................................................... 331 Ewa Wychorska Abstract vs concrete: contrastive analysis of the conceptualization of stillness and motion in Polish and English....................... 349 Magdalena Zyga Conceptual-linguistic creativity in poetic texts as a potential source of translation problems............................................................... 361

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Bogusław Bierwiaczonek Jan Długosz Academy in Częstochowa, Poland

On constructivization – a few remarks on the role of metonymy in grammar1 Abstract The paper explores the role of conceptual and constructional metonymy in the origins of language. It is argued that the first stage in the development of language, i.e. the stage of Proto-Language was a form of one- and two-word communication relying crucially on the ability to form associations between different participants and relations between them which could be accessed by means of designating single participants or relations alone. I will try to show that that such “non-sentential” forms of communication are also common in modern languages, like Polish and English. Moreover, some relics of those early forms of communication have become parts of entrenched grammatical constructions. There are two basic variants of this general process. In the first variant one or more participants of a relation are ellipsed and accessed metonymically by means of an expression designating either the relation alone or the relation and some of its other participants. In the other variant of this non-sentential communication, it is the constituents designating only single participants of the whole event which metonymically stand for the whole proposition. Finally, it is shown that the same basically metonymic mechanism is instrumental in the formation of dependent monoclausal constructions, which designate complex relations between more than one proposition, such as monoclausal if-only constructions. Keywords grammatical constructions, proto-language, metonymy, proposition, communication

1.╇From proto-language to language as we know it I first hinted at the role of conceptual and constructional metonymy in the origins of language in Bierwiaczonek (2013a). I argued that the first stage in the development of language, i.e. the stage of Proto-Language, as described by

1 Proofread by Susan Stacy Johnson.

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Bickerton (1990), was a form of one- and two-word communication relying crucially on the ability to form associations between different participants and relations between them which could be accessed by means of designating single participants or relations alone. The process was essentially metonymic in the sense that parts of the communicated messages were used for whole messages. Of course one or two-word (non-syntactic) communication might have worked well in clear contexts; however, the more language was ”displaced”, the more it was necessary to fill the missing contextual information with linguistic information. Thus, more and more words were concatenated; since there was no syntax, however, they were probably arranged according to the general communicative (or processing?) principles, such as ° Agent First ° Focus Last ° Grouping (cf. Jackendoff, 2002) It was probably these first structured complex symbols that in time gave rise to grammatical categories, structural patterns, inflections and grammatical functions paired with conceptual structures of varying degrees of complexity; in short – modern language. According to Jackendoff, the process might have proceeded as follows: Figure 1: Jackendoff ’s theory of origins of language (scanned from Jackendoff 2002:238)

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What adds plausibility to the view of the evolution of language as suggested by Bickerton and Jackendoff is that the same basically metonymic mechanism that enabled our ancestors to communicate in Proto-Language is still used in contexts that are sufficiently rich and, furthermore, that it has crucially contributed to the rise of at least two categories of grammatical constructions: those motivated by conceptual metonymy and those motivated by constructional metonymy. In the following section we shall briefly discuss the traces of those original pre-syntactic communicative behaviours in modern English. In the two other sections we will consider the metonymic sources of a number of much more complex modern grammatical constructions.

2.╇Communication based on single words and nonsyntactic concatenation Communication based on single words and non-syntactic concatenation is still a common occurrence. Such communication uses the same original conceptual metonymic mechanism, whereby one (named) part of a conceptual structure stands for a whole complex conceptual structure. It is important that such oneword or two-word combinations should not be confused with holophrases: they designate specific elements of complex conceptual structures which serve as vehicles activate the whole structure (cf. Bickerton, 2003). Thus, in sufficiently rich contexts complex conceptual structures are often communicated in linguistically short, syntactically functionally unmarked forms.2 For instance, a single proper name, as in (1) below, modulated phonologically can mean [STOP DOING IT, MARK], or [MARK, YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF], or [I CAN’T BELIEVE IT WAS MARK WHO DID IT]. The two infinitives in (2) and (3) in Polish may have full propositional meanings: (2) may well mean [ I WANT YOU TO GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DRINK], while (3), with the rising intonation, would be most likely taken as request for advice, i.e. roughly, [DO YOU THINK I SHOULD GO OR NOT?].

2 These one-word utterances should not be equated with so-called “fragments” in the sense of Culicover and Jackendoff (2005, p. 234f) whose “interpretation depends on their relation to the antecedent clause in the discourse”, e.g. A: What did Pat buy? B: A motorcycle However, in Bierwiaczonek (2013a) I argue that such fragments are also meaningful through their metonymic link with the conceptual and syntactic structure activated by the question.

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In the exchange in (4) the whole story about the weekend can be reduced to elementary concatenation of just and telly, while in the joke in (5), the final puppies effectively and amusingly conveys the whole complex causative conceptual structure. 1) Mark! 2) Pić! (I want you to give me something to drink) 3) Jechać? 4) A: How did you spend the weekend? B: Just telly 5) Three women were at the doctor’s office for their second trimester check-ups. The first woman, a brunette, said that she was sure that she would have a girl because when she made love to her husband, she was on top! The second affirmed with certainty that she would have a boy, because she was on bottom. The blonde grabbed her head between her hands. “Oh, crap! Puppies.” Essentially the same mechanism operates in newspaper and Internet headlines, where single more or less simple concepts stand for often long and complex narratives or reports. Of course the conceptual target of headlines is not exactly known until the story is read, nevertheless, this is the way they are often formed. Here is a sample: 6) BBC Internet headlines: ° Teen exorcists ° Human touch ° Revving up ° Survivors’ Tales ° Fighter, stronger ° White death ° Stigma and searches ° Pushing the frontiers In Bierwiaczonek (2013a) I suggested that this tendency to reduce linguistic form, which Grice included in his Maxim of Manner in the injunction: Be brief, has firm cognitive foundations in our ability to access large conceptual structures by means of their small linguistically designated parts. This Principle of Verbal Economy, as I called it, sounds as follows: Be brief. Don’t repeat what your addressee(s) already know from their experience and context and make maximal use of their ability to form conceptual associations and construct relevant meaning on the basis of the words they hear, their perception of context, and their knowledge of the world. (Bierwiaczonek 2013a, p. 18)

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Interestingly, PVE has acquired an almost grammatical status in the language of commercial slogans, which are usually accompanied by pictures of their merchandize. A sample of various car makers’ slogans is given below: 7) Slogans: ° Grace…space…pace (Jaguar) ° Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet ° An American Revolution (Chevrolet) ° American Luxury (Lincoln) ° Life, Liberty, and The Pursuit (Cadillac) ° The power of Dreams (Honda) ° The Spirit of American Style (Buick) ° Fuel for the Soul (Pontiac) ° Unlike any other (Mercedes Benz) ° For Life (Volvo) ° Passion for the road (Mazda) All these expressions are syntactically incomplete, yet in the visual context they successfully communicate complex propositional structures.

3.╇Conceptual metonymy constructivized Constructivization of conceptual metonymy is a process whereby a nonsentential structure which designates fragments of the propositional conceptual structure which stands for the whole propositional conceptual structure becomes an entrenched construction of a language.3 Thus, the results of constructivization of conceptual metonymy are various “non-sentential utterance types” (Culicover and Jackendoff, 2005, Ch. 7) or, as I prefer to call them, non-sentential constructions.4 Since a good deal of those constructions are systematically used with the same illocutionary force, they constitute an important subset of what I will refer to as “illocutionary constructions”. Let us discuss a few examples. 3 Defined in this way, constructivization is quite different from metonymic extensions or elaborations of already existing constructions, as for instance, in the use of questions about ability used for requests, as in Can you pass me the salt, i.e. in illocutionary metonymies which use part of the Request Scenario for the whole scenario couched in the form of an ordinary Yes-No interrogative construction (cf. Panther and Thornburg, 2003, Bierwiaczonek, 2013a, Ch. 4). 4 Culicover and Jackendoff (2005, p. 236) give a list of such nonsentential constructions consisting of ten items. I understand this is just a small sample of a much larger set. Two of the constructions from the list will be discussed here: How about NP/Gerundive VP and One more X and Clause (as a special case of a more general construction NP and S)

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3.1╇ What a N! Construction The construction What a N!, illustrated by the examples below, is an illocutionary construction, systematically used with the illocutionary force of EXPRESSIVE: 8) What a flower! 9) What a ring! 10) What a shot! 11) What a jump! In the first two examples the common nouns flower and ring activate a whole evaluative proposition, which in an appropriate context amounts to [I SEE THIS FLOWER/RING AND I THINK IT IS EXTRAORDINARY], so the noun in the construction designates the THEME of the whole proposition. The latter two examples are quite different in that the action nouns designate the dynamic PREDICATE of the proposition, which in turn activates the whole propositional structure whose meaning amounts to [I SAW THIS EVENT AND I THINK THIS X SHOT/JUMPED IN AN EXTRAORDINARY WAY]. Notice that the above construction is idiomatic in that there is no independent productive pattern in English that could be proposed as a regular schema for this construction. The construction represents an interesting case of a nonsentential construction having a “sentential”, propositional meaning.

3.2╇ How/What about X Construction Another illocutionary construction which has similar properties to the What a N Construction with an action noun is a subtype of How/What about X Construction with the gerundive VP in the X position, which is often used with the illocutionary force of SUGGESTION (but see Carter and McCarthy, 2006, p. 703f, for other functions as well), illustrated by the BNC examples below: 12) How about bringing him in on Thursday? 13) How about dressing now, Jenny, and coming down-stairs? 14) What about taking me on sometime? 15) What about putting some in the middle? 16) I’m going to have lunch,’ Victor continued, ‘so, as Simon’s otherwise engaged, how about joining me?’ Again, a non-sentential structure designating only the ungrounded (tenseless) Verb Phrase conveys the meaning of the whole proposition.5 5 Of course the most common case of a propositional construction reduced to its Verb Phrase is the imperative construction in English.

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The How/What about X Construction is also conceptually metonymic in its other discourse function, namely “to invite someone to speak or comment or to reciprocate a speaking turn” (Carter and McCarty, 2006, p. 704), as in the following exchange borrowed from Carter and McCarthy: 17) A: It was very interesting doing it B: It was all right was it. Yeah. Yeah. How did everybody else feel? Lucy, how about you? C: Er, well, the same really. (ibid.) Whatever B’s question is, it certainly is not about the Addressee’s (Lucy’s) identity but rather about a complex propositional structure concerning her feelings and opinion.

3.3╇ Why not VinfP Construction Another non-sentential constructivized way of making tentative SUGGESTIONS is the construction Why not VinfP (cf. Carter and McCarty, 2006, p. 705f), illustrated by the following BNC examples: 18) Why not cut all four at one go? 19) Why not make your visit to the theatre extra special, and spend a night at one of Scarborough’s best hotels? 20) Why not try the opposite setting to the one you’ve just used and see how the needles move (or don’t) in each direction? Again, the whole propositional content is accessed by the tenseless Verb Phrase.

3.4╇ One more NP and Clause Construction Not only predicates but also other constituents and participants or roles they designate may be used to convey full propositional content. For instance, in the One more NP and Clause Construction, as in One more beer and I’m off, the entity designated by X is usually the PATIENT of the whole proposition, construed as a condition or reason for Y, roughly [IF YOU DRINK ONE MORE BEER]. Again, this is an illocutionary construction, with a relatively fixed illocutionary force of THREAT or WARNING (cf. Taylor, 2002, p. 571f). Consider two other BNC examples: 21) One more such blow, I thought, face down in the sand, and I am gone. 22) One more weekend and the security screen could be lifted. 17

3.5╇ If it weren’t for NP, CLAUSE Construction Another semantically conditional construction motivated by conceptual metonymy, where a single Noun Phrase stands for the whole proposition is If it weren’t for NP, Clause Construction, as in the BNC examples below: 23) If it were not for Section 8 of the Contempt of Court Act, we might be able to make reforms more rationally on the basis of, at least, a minimal sample of the recorded deliberations of informed and unidentified jurors. 24) Ironically, the Great War would not have been the war that it was if it were not for the machine. 25) He also remarked, significantly: If it were not for the Union, I venture to think that women would be all over the London trade. 26) Housewife Rita Davis, of Ilford, Essex, said: ‘We would never have known what our taxes are going on if it was not for The Mirror.’ 27) The most popular British cult object, however, has no wheels and would not have moved at all if it was not for British Telecom. 28) If it was not for her, this Council would have had more opportunity of addressing some of the deep problems the Tories either created or left behind. 29) The mammoth catalogue raisonné of Magritte’s work would almost certainly not have come into existence if it were not for John (d. 1973) and Dominique de Menil. Clearly, the underlined NP-s stand for larger conceptual wholes conveying propositions in which they feature as primary AGENTS or CAUSES responsible for the developments described in the main clause. This conjecture is reinforced by the fact that the construction has also its non-metonymic variety, whereby the whole propositional conceptual structure is conveyed by different kinds of clausal constituents, from full-fledged finite clauses (often introduced by the fact), through relative clauses and gerundive clauses to nominalizations. Consider the following BNC examples: 30) If it were not for the fact that he was one of the favourites you’d have been delighted but as a Gold Cup winner I had to feel a bit disappointed. 31) This would be a useful feature if it were not for the fact that a certain amount of vaginal discharge is perfectly normal and natural for a woman in her reproductive years. 32) If it were not for an old professor who made me read the classics I would have been stymied. 18

33) From what has been said above, it will be clear that the Oxford English Dictionary Department would not be what it is, if it were not for the Supplement project lying at the heart of its work. 34) At the western outskirts of the town is the Bliss Valley Tweed Mill, an imposing stone-built factory which, if it were not for its chimney rising from a domed tower, would look like a great country mansion. 35) If it were not for my concern for my grandmother, I would — I would put you out of the car right now, I would let you wait beside the road until someone took pity on you and offered to drive you back to Milano. Given the relatively high frequencies of the two varieties of the If it weren’t for NP, Clause Construction, it may be suggested that in fact there are two kinds of this construction: one in which the condition is activated metonymically through its CAUSATIVE participant, indicated by “>>”, and the other, in which the condition (EVENT1) is spelled out in its full clausal form (of whatever kind). The reason why the metonymically motivated version of the construction is taken as basic is that the crucial constituent of the construction is the for-NP Prepositional Phrase which is prototypically complemented by common or proper nouns. Hence, it seems that the clausal extension of the NP serves to make sure that the otherwise metonymically accessed proposition is clearly understood. In other words, with the exception of the fact –headed NPs, the clause spells out exactly what the CAUSER’s contribution to the conditional EVENT1 is or was. The two constructions may be represented as follows:6 Figure 2: Conceptually metonymically motivated If it weren’t for NP, Clause Construction Syn

If

Sem

Condition

it

were not

for NP

STATE

CAUSER EVENT1]

Clause [>> EVENT2(-fact)

Figure 3: Expanded If it weren’t for NP, Clause Construction Syn

If

Sem

Condition

it

were not

for NP

Clause

STATE

(CAUSER) EVENT1

EVENT 2(-fact)

6 “Syn” stands for “Syntax” or ”Syntactic layer of construction”, “Sem” stands “Semantics” or “Semantic layer of construction”, the bold boxes indicate the head (i.e. main) clause of the complex sentence, the subscript [-fact] indicates counterfactuality.

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It is worth pointing out that the Polish equivalent of the English If it weren’t for NP, Clause Construction is even more constructionally idiomatic in that the first conditional part of the whole complex sentence is reduced to the conjunction gdyby, followed by the negative particle nie, followed by the NP. There is no verb so the condition is not even designated by a sentential structure and relies entirely on the conceptual metonymy linking the CAUSATIVE participant and EVENT 1. Here are the Polish translations of the conditional clauses of the first three sentences of the corpus sentences given above: 36) If it were not for Section 8 of the Contempt of Court Act, we might be able to make reforms more rationally on the basis of, at least, a minimal sample of the recorded deliberations of informed and unidentified jurors. Gdyby nie Dział 8 Ustawy o Obrazie Sądu, … 37) Ironically, the Great War would not have been the war that it was if it were not for the machine. …. gdyby nie ta maszyna. 38) He also remarked, significantly: If it were not for the Union, I venture to think that women would be all over the London trade. … Gdyby nie związek zawodowy, …

Summary We have discussed briefly a number of constructions which are unique and idiomatic on account of their considerably reduced syntactic structure and which convey full propositional contents by means of selected parts of those contents designated by various constituents: predicates or one of their participants

4.╇Constructional metonymy constructivized In Bierwiaczonek (2007, 2013a) it was suggested that there is a subcategory of part-for-whole metonymy, called “formal metonymy”, whereby part of a linguistic form is used to access the whole linguistic form. Essentially the same process was described by Barcelona (2005) as Salient part of form for whole form metonymy, e.g. the prefix sub may denote the concept of submarine by virtue of being part of the whole form of the word submarine or the word chair may denote the concept of armchair by virtue of being part of the whole compound armchair, etc. Furthermore, I also showed that formal metonymy is operative in syntax, resulting in what is often regarded as different forms of phrasal or clausal ellipsis. Since phrases, clauses and sentences in cognitive syntax can be viewed as constructions, i.e. pairings of syntactic form and its 20

meaning, in Bierwiaczonek (2013b) I proposed that this particular kind of metonymy be called “constructional metonymy”, defined as a metonymy whereby part of a grammatical construction P-GC stands for/activates the whole grammatical construction GC. If this metonymy becomes conventionalized and entrenched in the grammar system, it becomes a construction in its own right. Since the rise of such constructions and their crucial syntactic and semantic properties depend on their link with larger, complete, and thus “autonomous constructions”, they may be called “dependent constructions” motivated by constructional metonymy. Let us consider a few examples.

4.1╇English the-Adj Construction One example of a dependent phrasal construction in English is the construction [the – Adj], represented by the phrases the rich, sick, the Chinese, the sublime, etc., discussed in Bierwiaczonek (2007, 2013a). In its main variety, the the-Adj construction involves generic plural personal nouns in combinations with adjectives designating a particular physical or social condition, as in the blind, the rich, the jobless, which stand for the blind, the rich, the jobless people or nationalities, designated by the adjectives ending in -(i)sh, -ch and -ese (plus the Swiss). I suggested the the-Adj construction is motivated by constructional metonymy whereby the part [the ADJph/s condition; nationality] stands for the whole phrasal construction [the ADJph/s condition; nationality [people]] which may be represented as in the diagram below, in which the box representing the the-Adj construction is used as a vehicle to access a larger phrasal construction represented as the outer box of the diagram: Figure 4: The the -Adjcondition/nationality Construction as a vehicle (part) targeting construction the Adjcondition/nationality N people (whole)

Syn Sem

the

Syn Sem

the

GENERIC

Adjective PROPERTYCOND/NATIONAL

>> GENERIC

Adjective PROPERTYCOND/NATIONAL

Noun PEOPLE

Notice that it is the activation of the formally absent head of the phrase, indicated by the broken line, that accounts for the morphosyntactic and semantic properties of the the-Adj Construction, such as the plural concord and human designation. 21

Of course, constructional metonymy is not restricted to phrases. In what follows we shall discuss three examples of sentential constructions motivated by larger, more autonomous constructions.

4.2╇What-if Clause Construction The What-if Clause Construction may be illustrated by the following BNC examples: 39) What if one day you just do not have time? 40) But what if there is someone whose own fulfillment is simply not best promoted by this sort of relationship with others? 41) What if nobody wants me? 42) What if the man on the other end transmits too quickly and I can’t keep up with him? 43) What if you walked into a crowded theatre and yelled ‘Fire!’ 44) What if I decide to take the test? The first thing to notice about the What-if Clause Construction is that, although its apodosis is reduced to the interrogative pronoun what, it has the meaning of the full biclausal conditional sentence, marked by the standard conjunction if and the fully spelled out protasis. Thus, sentence (39) can be paraphrased as What will you do if one day you just do not have time? The fact that calls for explanation is why the only interrogative pronoun available in the construction is what, if in full conditional clauses other interrogative pronouns are equally felicitous, as in the examples below based on sentence (a): 45) Who will you turn to if one day you just do not have time? *Who if one day you just do not have time? 46) How will you make a living if one day you just do not have time? *How if one day you just do not have time? 47) When will you finish your book if one day you just do not have time? *When if one day you just do not have time? 48) Where do you think you will go if one day you just do not have time? *Where if one day you just do not have time? I suggest that the presence of what in the What-if Clause Construction can be explained if it is assumed that the construction is motivated by constructional metonymy whereby the interrogative pronoun what activates the general question concerning the predicative part of the apodosis, roughly [WHAT WILL HAPPEN] or [WHAT WILL YOU DO]. Since only what can be used in such 22

predicate questions, only this interrogative pronoun can be used as the metonymic vehicle to access the whole interrogative structure. Thus, the construction may be represented as follows: Figure 5: What-if Clause Construction Syn

What

if

Clause

Sem

Q: EVENT1

Condition:

EVENT2 (future or hypothetical)

It must be stressed that the fact that a construction is motivated by constructional metonymy does not preclude its idiosyncratic constructional properties. For instance, the fact that the What-if construction is motivated by the full biclausal conditional construction has not prevented it from developing the conventional illocutionary force of SUGGESTION, ADVICE or OFFER (cf. Carter and McCarthy 2006:703f), which full biclausal conditionals usually do not have.

4.3╇Monoclausal if-only constructions The plural “constructions” is not a typological error – contrary to Dancygier and Sweetser (2005), I believe there is a whole family of monoclausal if-only constructions differing in time reference, epistemic stance and illocutionary force. My claim is that these constructions are metonymically motivated by the corresponding biclausal if-only constructions. Therefore, we must first consider the biclausal if-only constructions and then show how they lead to the emergence of monoclausal if-only constructions. Although there are a number of biclausal if-only constructions, it seems that all these constructions share a general structure shown below:7 Figure 6: General structure of the Biclausal if-only Construction Syn

If only

Sem MIN. SUFFICIENT CONDITION for E 2:

NP VP XYZ

NP VP XYZ

EVENT 1

EVENT 2

7 Biclausal if-only Constructions (along with e.g. Adverbial Clause of Reason Construction, Adverbial Clause of Concession Construction, etc.) belong to reversible adverbial clause constructions in the sense that the main clause – subordinate clause order may be reversed. Thus the order of clauses in the representations of those constructions is irrelevant.

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I suggest that the “Minimal sufficient condition” (Dancygier and Sweetser’s (2005) “just sufficient” component) is an independent contribution of the construction if only to the conditional relation between the protasis and the apodosis. This suggestion is supported by the fact that the component of “minimal sufficiency” may be introduced also to other adverbial clauses, e.g. clauses of reason, where it contributes the component of minimal sufficient reason, or purpose, where it contributes the minimal sufficient purpose, as in the BNC examples below: 49) It is too late for British Telecom to return to its old ways if only because the public now knows that it does not have to put up with a telephone system built for the 1950s. 50) I might just give him another run — if only to keep the stable going’. Now given the general structure of the Biclausal if-only Construction, we may distinguish three canonical subtypes of this construction shown below and illustrated with BNC examples: Biclausal if-only would Construction, Biclausal if-only Past Construction and Biclausal if-only Past Perfect Construction.8 ES stands for “epistemic stance”. Figure 7: Biclausal if-only would Construction Syn

If only

NP would VP X

NP would/could VP X

Sem

Sufficient condition for E 2:

EVENT 1; ES: unlikely; TIME: future

EVENT 2

51) If only the markets and the media would get over their obsession with the current account numbers then the Government too could forget about them. 52) If only this pain would go away, everything would be perfect. 8 In fact there is also one more subtype of the Biclausal if-only Construction with omintemporal time reference, positive epistemic stance and purely representative illocutionary force, as in the following BNC examples: i. If only the two people are involved in the communication then an informal and personal style is the rule ii.  It should be noted that if only one of the shareholders of the company is not connected to a director or manager of the company then the exemption will be unavailable to both the vendors and the purchaser. Since this subtype is relatively rare and much less common as basis of Monoclausal if-only sentences, I will ignore it in our further considerations.

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Figure 8: Biclausal if-only Past Construction Syn

If only

NP VPPAST X

NP would VP X

Sem

Sufficient condition for E 2:

EVENT 1; ES: negative; TIME: present

EVENT 2

53) If only one in 10 of those people cared for at home had instead to be looked after in residential institutions the additional public cost would exceed £1 billion a year. 54) Just to talk to Dominic would be enough tonight, if only she knew where he was. 55) As one residential worker remarked: ‘I wouldn’t mind if only they weren’t adolescents.’ Figure 9: Biclausal if-only Past Perfect Construction Syn

If only

NP had VPPERF PART X

NP would/could have VPPERF PART X

Sem

Suff condition for E 2:

EVENT 1; ES: negative; TIME: past

EVENT 2

56) If only it had left us alone, we could have been happy, we could have gone on being happy. 57) If only they hadn’t become so friendly, he was sure he would have enjoyed having a relationship with her; but he had a rule about not mixing sex with friendship. If monoclausal if-only constructions are indeed motivated by biclausal if-only constructions, then we should expect different monoclausal if-only constructions based on different biclausal if-only constructions. This is indeed the case, as the BNC examples below show: Monoclausal if-only would Construction 58) If only Ace would let her go to the pits to check for herself! 59) If only he’d hear her out without interrupting! Monoclausal if-only Past Construction 60) If only we knew as much about John Major’s schooldays. 61) At once she burst into tears and hugging me for the first time in years (it seemed), cried, ‘If only I had their faith!’ 25

Monoclausal if-only Past Perfect Construction 62) If only Mark had taken St Ermin’s when it was offered to him. 63) If only he had made his move six years earlier, during the rehearsed reading of Martin Finkelstein’s verse play These Be Wasted Years, Brother! Clearly, monoclausal if-only constructions share the grammatical and conceptual aspects of the conditional clauses of biclausal if-only constructions, which strongly indicates that they are motivated by these constructions. Dancygier & Sweetser (2005, p. 218f ) compare biclausal and monoclausal if-only constructions as follows: Consider the relation between • If only he would stop drinking • If only he would stop drinking, his life would improve (or, everything would be better; or  he could write his novel, etc.) The less specific the intended implicit Q, the less the conveyed meaning will focus on a specific conditional relationship, and the more the construction’s function in the context will center on the expression of the “wish” aspects of the construction’s meaning, such as positive emotional stance and negative epistemic stance toward P. (…) This monoclausal construction carries with it the conventional meaning of speaker’s positive emotional stance and negative epistemic stance, while having lost a conventional compositional if-function of setting up a mental space as a background for consideration of some Q. If such a Q could be postulated at all, it would only be implied. Crucially, in losing some aspects of its historically conventional meaning and gaining others, the monoclausal if-only construction has become a performative. The construction’s basic conventional semantics and pragmatics consist of a commitment to the conversational record of the speaker’s strong desire, and the speaker’s belief that the desire is not currently fullfilled. Its semantics is thus very close to that of the verb wish when that verb is used performatively, expressing the speaker’s own current desire: • Oh, I wish he would stop drinking! • I just wish he would stop drinking! • How I wish he would stop drinking!”

Without denying that I wish constructions and monoclausal if-only constructions share a number of properties, it should be stressed that there is a crucial difference between the two constructions in the speaker’s assessment of the relative importance of E1: In I wish sentences S simply expresses her wish concerning E1, while in if only sentences E1 is construed as a minimal but critical condition causing other events. Since the Wish constructions are autonomous and restricted in their designation to a single event and the volitional attitude to that event, they represent the described events as autonomous entities as well. As Michel Swan (1995, p. 253) observes: “We can use If only … to say that we would like things to be different. It means the same as I wish …, but is more emphatic.” 26

It seems that what makes the monoclausal if only sentences more emphatic than I wish sentences is the activation (however weak) of the apodosis (consequence) of the expressed condition through its link with the full, autonomous conditional sentence. The focus is not only on EVENT 1 itself but also on the fact that it had consequences. This also explains Vince’s (1994, p. 42) remark that “ (Monoclausal if-only Construction - BB) adds emphasis to hypothetical situations. With past events it adds a sense of regret.” Owing to their metonymic link with the biclausal if-only constructions, Monoclausal if-only constructions view events as causes of other events. If the consequences are sorry, the causative events are regretted too (cf. Bierwiaczonek 2013a, Ch. 4 for details of Regret Scenario).

4.4╇Summary I have tried to show that monoclausal if-only constructions should be considered to be metonymically motivated by full biclausal if-only constructions. This motivation explains the grammatical as well as a number of the conceptual and pragmatic aspects of the monoclausal if-only constructions, without preventing them from developing their own idiosyncratic characteristics, such as the illocutionary force of expression of wish or regret.

5.╇Conclusions For a long time metonymy was viewed primarily as a cognitive mechanism enabling speakers to refer to various entities by means of other entities related to them within single domains of experience. To the extent these transfers of meaning become entrenched, metonymy was viewed as an important way of extending meanings of individual lexemes, e.g. in such a way the original meaning of cup as a ‘metal container for liquids’ acquired a new sense of a ‘sports event where the main prize is a cup’ and the lexeme tea, originally designating ‘tasty and healthy warm drink brewed from special leaves’ developed the sense of ‘a light afternoon meal where tea is usually served’, etc. I have tried to show that metonymy should not be restricted to the problems of reference and lexical semantics, but is crucial in the development of grammatical constructions as well. As opposed to metaphor, which usually uses already existing constructions and exploits their dependency relations (cf. Sullivan 2013), conceptual and constructional metonymy is actually instrumental in the development of unique grammatical constructions. Our ability to access whole propositional structures by means of their single participants has given rise to such constructions as What a N!, How/What about X, Why not Vinf.P, One more NP and Clause and If it weren’t for NP, Clause, while constructional metonymy 27

motivates such constructions as the-Adj, What if Clause and Monoclausal if-only constructions. These examples suggest that metonymy acting on complex conceptual structures and autonomous grammatical constructions is one of the basic forces of the grammatical development of languages and as such deserves further investigation. Studies of other grammatical constructions will no doubt shed more light on the role of metonymy in grammar. One important field of research might be genre-specific constructions. We have already mentioned the metonymic basis of the newspaper and Internet headline formation. But the field seems to be much wider. Consider, for instance, passive slogans in the language of advertising, consisting of the brand name or a picture showing it and the participial Verb Phrase, as in the examples below: Mercedes-Benz: Engineered to move the human spirit ° Jaguar: Born to perform ° Ford - Built for the road ahead. ° Pontiac: Designed for Action ° Driven By What’s Inside - Subaru ° Clearly, this relatively new genre-specific construction would not have emerged if the creators and readers of commercial slogans of did not have the basic metonymic ability to use such non-sentential expressions to access the conceptually complete English passive construction.

References Barcelona, A. (2003 [1998]) Clarifying and applying metaphor and metonymy. In R. Dirven & R. Pörings (Eds) Metaphor and Metonymy in Comparison and Contrast, 207–277. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Bickerton, D. (1990) Language and Species. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Bickerton, D. (2003) Symbol and Structure: A Comprehensive Framework for Language Evolution. In M.H.Christiansen and S.Kirby (Eds.) Language Evolution, 77–93. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bierwiaczonek, B. (2007) On formal metonymy. In K. Kosecki (Ed.) Proceedings of the International Conference ‘Perspectives on Metonymy’ (2005) 43–67. Frankfurt/Main: Peter Lang. Bierwiaczonek, B. (2013a). Metonymy in Language, Thought and Brain. Sheffield: Equinox. Bierwiaczonek, B. (2013b) On dependent and autonomous constructions in grammar. In Papaja, K. & A. Rojczyk (Eds.) Continuity and change in the 28

English language and culture, 9–26. Katowice: Wydawnictwo Wyższej Szkoły Zarządzania Ochroną Pracy w Katowicach. Carter, R. & McCarthy, M. (2006) Cambridge Grammar of English. A Comprehensive Guide. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Culicover, P. & Jackendoff, R. (2005) Simpler Syntax. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Dancygier, B. & Sweetser, E. (2005) Mental Spaces in Grammar. Conditional Constructions. Cambridge University Press. Jackendoff, R. (2002) Foundations of Language. Brain, Meaning, Grammar, Evolution. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Panther, K-U. & Thornburg, L. (2003) Metonymies as natural inference and activation schemas: the case of dependent clauses as independent speech acts. In K-U. Panther & L. Thornburg (Eds) Metonymy in Pragmatic Inferencing, 127–147. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Sullivan, K. (2013) Frames and Constructions in Metaphoric Langauge. Amsterdam/ Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Swan, M. (1995) Practical English Usage. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Taylor, J. (2002) Cognitive Grammar. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Vince, M. (1994) Advanced Language Practice. Oxford: MacMillan Neinemann English Language Teaching.

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Beata Brzozowska-Zburzyńska Maria Curie-Skłodowska University, Lublin, Poland

A concept of container in temporal phrases – a comparative study1 Abstract The aim of this article is to present a comparative analysis of some temporal expressions in three languages: Polish, Spanish and French. We would like to analyze if in the conceptual structure of these expressions appears a concept of container. This concept is one of the main spatial notions and it is considered a complete experiential gestalt (Przybylska, 2002, p. 108) from which other, more detailed concepts are derived. The domain of space is cognitively less complex that the domain of time and it is often used as a source domain for the metaphorical representation of temporal relations. Therefore, the spatial notions often appear in the imaginative schemes referring to time (for example: a container). In this presentation we would like to study if the speakers of Polish, Spanish and French languages perceive temporal intervals (days of the week, months, years and other intervals) in the same way (e.g. as containers) and use the same grammatical structures to express them. Our observations confirm that some temporal intervals conceptualized as container in one language can be interpreted differently in the remaining languages. We observe this phenomenon due to the analysis of grammatical elements that appear in the temporal expressions and the semantic functions that they express. Keywords temporal phrases; concept of container The present research, has been inspired by the article by Renata Przybylska entitled “Spacjalizacja czasu w przyimkowych frazach temporalnych” (Spatialization of Time in the temporal prepositional phrases) which was published in the volume of the series Język i kultura (Language and Culture), in 2006. The author studies Polish temporal phrases, accompanied by prepositions, mainly spatial ones, which allows her to believe that „czas jest kategorią ontologiczną, która w wielu językach – choć nie we wszystkich - jest konceptualizowana i 1 The text was translated by Anna Brzozowska and proofread by Jenna Strizzi.

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wyrażana za pośrednictwem źródłowej domeny pojęciowej przestrzeni“ (Time is an ontological category that in many languages - but not in all of them – is conceptualized and expressed through a basic conceptual domain of space) (Przybylska, 2006, p. 45). It has been also demonstrated in the comparative studies carried out by Haspelmath (1997), cited by Przybylska (2006, p. 45 and following), who studied the most common temporal adverbials in 53 languages, that in all of them there are similar or identical prepositional structures, which express different temporal functions, such as: simultaneous location, sequential location, sequential-durative, temporal distance and temporal atelic or telic extent. The frequency of the presence of these structures in each function is not the same for all languages and according to this present study it is due to the cultural and linguistic differences in groups relating to how they perceive and understand the world. Most importantly, however, in most languages space-time transfer can be noticed and this is a dominant, yet not universal tendency. Haspelmath (1997) emphasizes this phenomenon in the conclusions to his book: The systematic cross-linguistic study has thus confirmed earlier impressionistic statements concerning the ubiquity of conceptual transfer from space to time. There are no languages that depart from this general trend, and in this sense it is truly universal. However, in each of the individual semantic functions, there are the few languages that have a non-spatial source for their marker of the function. In this sense the space-time transfer is not universal, but only strong tendency. (p. 140)

In this article we would like to focus on one of the conceptual metaphors, used by the speakers of the three languages: Spanish, French and Polish to express temporal relations2. We refer to the metaphor TIME IS A CONTAINER. The concept of container is one of the main space concepts and as it has been noticed by Przybylska (2006, p. 108) it is considered a “complete experiential gestalt”, from which other, more detailed notions are derived, such as interior zone, exterior zone and the border. This concept, however, serves not only to conceptualize spatial location, but it also can be used metaphorically in other domains such as the domain of time, the domain of emotions and many others. The task is to verify whether the metaphor TIME IS A CONTAINER appears in all three languages analyzed here, that is whether in all three languages temporal intervals expressed through nominal phrases are always conceptualized as containers and whether in such cases they enter into a formal relation with the same grammatical markers of this conceptualization that is e.g. with the same prepositions. 2 For conceptual metaphors used to express temporal relations see Pawłowska, 2011; Radden, 2005; Szwedek, 2009, among others.

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As it has been noticed by Przybylska (2006): lokalizacja w czasie – analogicznie do lokalizacji w przestrzeni fizycznej – ma zawsze charakter względny. (…) lokalizacja temporalna polega na wyznaczeniu tzw. miejsca temporalnego dla lokalizowanego stanu, procesu, zdarzenia. Odpowiednikiem lokalizatora przestrzennego jest więc lokalizator temporalny L, umiejscawiane zaś w czasie zdarzenie Z jest odpowiednikiem przedmiotu lokalizowanego w przestrzeni. (p. 47) (Temporal location – analogous to the physical space location – is always of relative character. (…) a temporal location means that, so called, temporal places are marked for the localized state, process and event. Therefore, the temporal locator L is equivalent to the spatial locator, while the event localized in time Z is analogous to the object analyzed in space.)

In the conceptual metaphor TIME IS A CONTAINER, according to the theory of Lakoff and Johnson (1982/2004, p. 99), there is a correlation between the limited spatial range, that an object goes through, and the time that is needed for this action. Phrases that we are going to study include the following elements: –â•fi an event that we want to locate in time and which will be formally expressed by different types of, less or more complex, predicates; –â•fi a position on the timeline, called by Przybylska lokalizatorem czasowym (temporal landmark), conceptualized as a container (or not) expressed by a noun (or by a, less or more complex, nominal group) referring to a time interval; –â•fi an element expressing a type of relation between the event and the position on the timeline, which at the grammatical level will be classified as a preposition or a different element with the equivalent function. Analyzing Polish temporal phrases Przybylska (2006, p. 47) observes that in Polish three types of temporal landmarks can be distinguished: –â•fi landmark -containers understood as temporal extended notions, unidimensional time distances with clearly defined boundaries of extent (e.g. zima ‘winter’, ten tydzień ‘this week’) –â•fi extended landmark-containers without clearly defined boundaries of the temporal extent, constituting peripheral fragments of other periods (e.g. jesień ‘autumn’, przełom wieków ‘the turn of the centuries’) –â•fi non-dimensionalized landmarks – abstract point in time, without extension, that is duration (e.g. godzina piąta ‘five o’clock’). She also notices that the choice of the correct location phrase, the preposition, also depends on another semantic distinction related to the temporal landmarks; that is the identification of the locators, which are qualitatively identical and 33

qualitatively different. As an example of the first ones, the following expressions have been given: this year, next year, last year, and for the latter ones: seasons or day times (Przybylska, 2006, p. 47). An analysis of some concrete examples of the temporal phrases, show that in Polish the temporal landmark is conceptualized as a container of the first type, that is, whose boundaries of extent are clearly defined. 1) Wykonał tę pracę w kwadrans. (He performed his work in a quarter of an hour.) 2) W piątek mam zebranie. (On Friday I have a meeting.) 3) W maju jedziemy na krótki urlop. (In May we are going on short holidays.) 4) Zobaczymy się w południe. (We’ll meet at noon.) 5) W tym tygodniu mam dużo zajęć. (This week I have a lot of activities.) Analyzing the above examples we can observe that they correspond to two temporal functions: example 1) – function of telic extent and the other examples function of simultaneous location. All these examples contain a principally spatial preposition w (in), which is a marker of interior location. It does not, however, appears with the same case of nouns, which is explained by Przybylska (2006) in the following way: Można sformułować (…) ostrożną hipotezę, że w + loc pojawia się, o ile lokalizator temporalny jest wyznaczony jako jeden ciągły odcinek czasu, jakościowo wyraźnie różny od innych okresów, natomiast w + acc ewokuje raczej wyobrażenie serii odcinków czasu oddzielonych od siebie innymi interwalami czasowymi albo wskazuje na jeden odcinek wybrany z takiej serii, przy czym poszczególne odcinki są jakościowo podobne. (p. 49) (There can be made (…) a careful hypothesis that w + loc is present if a temporal locator is marked as a continuous time period, qualitatively different form other time spans, while w + acc evokes rather a series of time periods separated from each other by other temporal intervals or marks one period selected form such series, the individual periods will be qualitatively similar.)

In Spanish, a marker of inside location is a spatial preposition en (in) and a prepositional expression dentro de (inside). In the domain of space the preposition en (in) is used with the nouns denoting both three-dimensional and two-dimensional containers, allowing it to be used in the following structures: 6) El libro está en la mesa. (*The book is in the table) The prepositional expression dentro de (inside), on the other hand, specifies the relation of the inside location and indicates that an object is located inside the container. In the temporal domain, however, the preposition en denotes the function of simultaneous location, as in the phrase en mayo (in May), as well as the function 34

of telic extent, as in the phrase en una semana (in one week). The expression dentro de (inside) can also be found in the temporal domain and corresponds to the function of posterior distance, as in the sentence: 7) Vuelvo dentro de una semana. (*I will return inside one week) In Polish this function is completed by the preposition za + accusative case of noun (behind), and its presence is due to the conceptualization of the time locator as a non-moving object, and the speaker as a moving towards future subject (ego-moving model) (Przybylska, 2006, p. 54). Therefore, in this language the concept of container is not applicable. It is very interesting that in the Spanish expression, which in the spatial domain denotes inside location, in the temporal domain seems to denote a contrasting meaning that is outside location, yet clearly adjacent to the container expressed by the temporal interval. Determining the relation of the inside location with the use of two different markers also takes place in French where this function is taken on by prepositions en (in) and dans (in). In the spatial domain the preposition dans is more common than en (contrary to Spanish where the most common is the preposition en) and it can refer to the prototypical container as well as to the most peripheral one, e.g. 8) Il s’est assis dans une chaise. (*He sat down in a chair) In the temporal domain, like in Spanish, the preposition en expresses both the simultaneous location and the telic extent, while the preposition dans indicates the posterior distance. As it can be seen in the above examples the three languages analyzed here are characterized, so far, by two differences: first, in Polish to express the inside location in the temporal domain the preposition w (in) is used (in cases of intervals conceptualized as containers of the first type, that is with defined boundaries of extent), while both in Spanish and French there are two such markers. In Polish the concept of container is used to express the function of simultaneous location and telic extent, while in French and Spanish this notion, or rather a concept derived from it of the adjacent exterior region, also takes a function of posterior distance. Now, an analysis of nouns, which together with prepositions and prepositional phrases, which are markers of the inside location, comprise temporal phrases that serve to express the functions analyzed above, citing Przybylska´s theory (supra). According to Wojtyła-Świerzowska (2006): Na słownictwo temporalne składają się nazwy samego czasu pojętego najbardziej abstrakcyjnie: czas, pora, doba itd.; nazwy miar czasu – skonwencjonalizowanych jednostek:

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wiek, rok, miesiąc, tydzień, dzień, godzina i dalej –większych i mniejszych, i wreszcie – nazwy stanowiące nieskonwencjonalizowane dookreślenia czasowe (…). (p. 67) (The temporal vocabulary is composed of the names of time defined in the most abstract way: time, day time, day etc.; names of the conventionalized measuring time units: century, year, month, week, day, hour etc.- bigger and smaller, and finally- names that constitute non-conventionalized time markers (…).)

The subject of interest in the monographic study, which is being prepared, will refer to all three types of names, however, in this presentation the second type will be referred to, since not all of them evoke the concept of container that is of interest. Haspelmath (1997, p. 116) revealed in his data that in many languages there are structures, he called zero-marked, that carry no prepositional marker. He came to the conclusion that the concepts that most easily appear in such formal structures are parts of the day, names of the days of the week and seasons. He decided that the lack of such prepositional markers is due to language economy, which is caused in this situation by the fact that the temporal notions are of deictic character, this meaning that their identification depends on the temporal location of the speaker, which is a situational context. Marie-Luce Honeste (1997), studying French temporal zero-marked constructions has adopted a rather different hypothesis: she believes that the presence or absence of the preposition is related to more or less prototyped character of the expressed temporal relation. However, in what way do all these observations refer to the concept of container that is being analyzed in this presentation? It appears that some temporal intervals, while in Polish are conceptualized as containers, in Romance languages are rather perceived as dimension less temporal intervals, seen as a whole, and not configured (not perceived as a container). It refers, for example, to the names of the days of the week. In Polish, for the days of the week in order to mark the function of simultaneity, both in a deictic and anaphoric meaning, a preposition w is used, which suggests that the days of the week are conceptualized by the Polish speakers as containers: ╇ 9) Zobaczymy się w sobotę. (We’ll meet on Saturday.) 10) W tamtą niedzielę miasto opustoszało. (Last Sunday the city was empty.) In Spanish and French no preposition is used, however, there is still another difference between these two languages, namely in Spanish the days of the week require the use of the definite article, whereas in French this type of article takes on an iterative function, which in Spanish is defined by the plural definite article. 36

Honeste (1997, p. 156) believes that in French the use of temporal adverbials without prepositional ones neither articles is possible in a small group of temporal expressions, such as names of the days of the week in the deictic use, except for the word day itself (jour/journée), names of the months in the deictic use, except for the word month itself, or names of the years, except for the word year itself, which in French is defined by two nouns: an and année. We have already mentioned that in Polish the days of the week are conceptualized as containers, whereas in French and Spanish as dimensionless and not configured as a whole. Let us look now at the names of the months. In Polish the concept of container can again be observed together with the preposition w (in) to express the function of simultaneous location. With this type of names it is impossible to make the expressions of telic extent: 11) W maju jedziemy na wycieczkę. (In May we are going on a trip.) 12) *Napiszę to w maj. In both Spanish and French such conceptualization of months is also present and in both languages to express the simultaneous location the prepositions en, en are used with the names of the months. 13) En mayo nos vamos de viaje. (In May we are going on a trip.) 14) En mai nous allons faire un voyage. (In May we are going on a trip.) What we find interesting is the fact that in all three languages there are structures that can be perceived as pleonastic phrases, such as: 15) W miesiącu maju (in the month of May) 16) En/durante el mes de mayo (in the month of May) 17) Au mois de mai (in the month of May) While in Polish this construction is not used very often and only in a specific type of discourse, e.g. in reports, in both Romance languages these structures are used very frequently and as it can be seen they do not necessarily denote a concept of container. Now, an analysis of another group of interval names, which are considered interesting from the comparative point of view; the names of the seasons. Przybylska (2006, p. 47) defines them as qualitatively different time units, while Wojtyła-Świerzowska (2006, p. 67) describes them as nonconventional time markers. In case of the seasons it can be noticed that they are not always present in other parts of the world, or that their number and type is different depending on the climatic zone that the speakers of different languages live in. Therefore, these time units are not universal. When we compare the names of the seasons 37

in Polish, French and Spanish we can notice the presence of two series – one which is common for all three languages and another completed by the expressions typical for each language (Brzozowska-Zburzyńska, 2012). In the common series there are four seasons; however, not all of them are conceptualized in the same way in all three languages. In Spanish in order to express the function of simultaneous location the preposition en (in) is used, which allows us to conclude that all seasons are conceptualized as closed containers with clearly defined boundaries. In French there is also the preposition en (in), which indicates that the seasons are conceptualized as closed containers with defined boundaries. Yet, there is an exception here: the word printemps, which refers to the concept of spring, is used not only with a different preposition, that is à but also with a definite article which does not occur in case of other seasons. It seems to us that it is related to the etymology of this word. This is due to the lexicalized complex expression which originates from the Latin base primus tempus which can be translated as “the first season”. In Polish this situation is even more interesting, where seasons are conceptualized as containers, though not always of the same type. In case of spring and autumn the preposition na (on) is used, which in the spatial domain expresses the relation of being higher on the vertical axis. According to Przybylska (2006, p. 49) time expressions marked by the preposition na (on) indicate that the temporal intervals are conceptualized as containers without clearly defined boundaries or as peripheral fragments of other time periods. The study presented here shows that the concept of container to express the temporal relations is present in all three languages, proving the tendency described by Haspelmath (1997). The difference though is that not all temporal intervals are always conceptualized in the same way, what confirms the thesis that the way of seeing and understanding the world is not universal and common for all languages and cultures. This, on the other hand, convinces the authors to study and try to explain these differences, not only at the level of pure grammatical forms but also at the level of concepts that these forms are reflected by.

References Brzozowska-Zburzyńska, B. (2012). ?Los usuarios de lenguas diferentes entienden y dividen el tiempo cronológico del mismo modo? - el caso del español, francés y polaco. Studia Iberystyczne, (11), 57–68. Haspelmath, M. (1997). From Space to Time. Temporal Adverbials in the World’s Languages. München-Newcastlle: Lincom Europa. 38

Honeste, M.-L. (1997). Approche cognitive de la syntaxe des compléments de temps sans préposition en français. Faits de langues, 5(9), 155–164. Lakoff, G., & Johnson, M. (2004). Metáforas de la vida cotidiana/Metaphors We Live By (Teorema/Theorem) (6 Tra.). Madrid: Catedra. Pawłowska, K. (2011). Faces of Time. The Role of Metaphor in Abstract Conceptualization. Białystok: Wyższa Szkoła Finansów i Zarządzania. Przybylska, R. (2006). Spacjalizacja czasu w przyimkowych frazach temporalnych. Regularności i nieregularności. In Czas-język-kultura (Vol. 19, pp. 45–60). Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego. Radden, G. (2005). The metaphor time as space across a languages. In E. Górska & G. Radden (Eds.), Metonymy — Metaphor — Collage (pp. 99–120). Warsaw: Warsaw University Press. Szwedek, A. (2009). Conceptualization of space and time. In P. Łobacz, P. Nowak & W. Zabrocki (Eds.), Language, Science and Culture (pp. 317–333). Poznań: Wydawnictwo Naukowe UAM. Wojtyła-Świerzowska, M. (2006). Słownictwo czasu i przestrzeni. In Czasjęzyk-kultura (Vol. 19, pp. 67–72). Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego.

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Marta Falkowska University of Warsaw, Poland

Subjectivity and objectivity in language as seen by Louis Hjelmslev and Ronald W. Langacker1 Abstract This paper outlines an historical background for R.W. Langacker’s conception of subjectivity. It aims to show that Langacker’s cognitive grammar, though innovative and original, is actually deeply rooted in the history of linguistic thought on subjectivity/objectivity as means of scene construal. To do this, the author’s focuses mainly on the insightful analysis of subjectivity and objectivity presented by Louis Hjelmslev in his work on the category of case (1935, 1937). The aim of the paper is also to point to those aspects of Langacker’s framework that seem to offer a more in-depth explanation of the functions played by subjectivity and objectivity. Keywords subjectivity; objectivity, cognitive grammar; glossematics; Ronald W. Langacker; Louis Hjelmslev

1.╇Introduction “Nos esse quasi nanos, gigantium humeris insidentes…” [‘We are like dwarfs sitting on the shoulders of giants’]—this medieval formula, attributed to Bernard of Chartres, has later been commented on by John of Salisbury. Cf. Our own generation enjoys the legacy bequeathed to it by what preceded it. We frequently know more, not because we have moved ahead by our own natural ability, but because we are supported by the [mental] strength of others, and possess riches that we have inherited from our forefathers. (1955 [1159], p. 167)

1 The research project “Subjectivity and objectivity in language” has been funded by the Faculty of Polish Studies (grant no DSM-106303). The main theses of this paper were first presented during the Summer School of Cognitive Linguistics (Bangor, UK, July 2013). The author would like to thank the teaching staff, especially prof. Ewa Dąbrowska, Aliyah Morgenstern, and Christopher Schank, for their valuable feedback. I am also indebted to prof. Krystyna Waszakowa and prof. Jadwiga Linde-Usiekniewicz, who gave me their opinion on drafts, and to Gordon Coulson, who helped me shape the final version of the paper.

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Nowadays, Google Scholar search tools encourage scientists to “stand on the shoulders of giants,” i.e., to take into account the former generations’ research. However, it seems, at least in linguistics, that every new paradigm (in the Kuhnian sense of the term) tends to shape its identity in opposition to the prior methods. Thus, the valuable “legacy of the forefathers” becomes a “burden”. It is easy to find examples of this approach in the 20th-century linguistic research; I will show just two of them. In 1958, during the 8th International Congress of Linguistics in Oslo, Louis Hjelmslev openly refused to acknowledge the scientific value of prior attempts at semantic analysis, declaring that: (…) il n’y a dans les méthodes de jadis rien qui puisse être repris par une sémantique structurale à venir. (Hjelmslev, 1958, p. 641)2 ((…) in the previous methods there is nothing that could be taken up by forthcoming structural semantics)

Ironically, Hjelmsev came to be underestimated, if not forgotten by some scholars. In 1987, Ronald W. Langacker (Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, v. I) voiced his “profound dissatisfaction” with “the dominant trends in current theory,” and aimed to rebuild the discipline on “firmer ground”. Although Langacker’s project is beyond all doubt innovative and original, he seldom acknowledges that it is in fact deeply rooted in the history of linguistic thought. My paper points out significant similarities in the interpretation of the notions of “subjectivity” and “objectivity” between Langacker’s proposal, and some aspects of Hjelmslev’s framework earlier (1935, 1937) elaborated in his work on the category of case3. My comparison also aims at showing those aspects of Langacker’s cognitive grammar that offer a more in-depth explanation of natural language phenomena than does Hjelmslev’s account.

2.╇“I am under the tree,” or Louis Hjemslev’s interpretation of subjectivity Traugott and Dasher (2002, p. 19–21) trace back the term “subjectivity” to Michel Bréal’s first treaty on semantics (1900 [1897]). In their review of the literature, 2 To the best of my knowledge, there are no English translations of the cited Hjelmslev’s works available. Consequently, since there seems to be no well-established English terminology, I decided to provide my own translations. 3 Some resemblance between these two prominent linguists has already been signaled by Linde-Usiekniewicz (2010).

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the authors mention also the well-known accounts of subjectivity, objectivity and intersubjectivity formulated by Karl Bühler, Motoki Tokieda, Roman Jakobson, Émile Benveniste, and John Lyons. Interestingly, Louis Hjelmslev is missing from the list although his analysis of case system and of meanings carried by prepositions bears a significant resemblance to Langacker’s proposal4. In his seminal two-volume work “La catégorie des cas” [‘The category of cases’] Hjelmslev gives an outstanding overview of the grammatical category of case in various languages, and of the ways the case marking system has previously been systematized. He covers various interpretations dating back to antiquity, and also comments extensively on the more recent ones. His own analytical proposal consists in distinguishing three dimensions that allow us to characterize particular cases as elements of the system of functional oppositions. It is worth noting that the system works for prepositions as well, since they too (at least in the localistic models, and Hjelmslev’s model clearly follows that path) are markers of relations (primarily spatial) between objects. Hjelmslev puts this idea as follows: (…) la zone conceptuelle occupée par ce système commun aux cas et aux prépositions est celle de la relation entre deux objets reposant sur une conception spatiale (…). (Hjelmslev, 1935, p. 128; emphasis original) ‘(…) the conceptual sphere occupied by the system that is common for cases and prepositions is that of the spatially-based notion of relations between two objects (…).’

The oppositions postulated by Hjelmslev include: (a) approaching/moving away5 (fr. rapprochement/éloignement); (b) coherence/incoherence6 (fr. cohérence/ incohérence); (c) subjectivity/objectivity (fr. subjectivité/objectivité). The example that illustrates Hjelmslev’s idea of subjectivity is parallel to the one used by Langacker. Cf. Une relation entre deux objets peut être pensée objectivement, c’est-à-dire sans égard à l’individu pensant, et elle peut être pensée subjectivement, c’est-à-dire par rapport

4 I first noticed the resemblance while reading Barbara Klebanowska’s work on Polish prepositions (1971). 5 This dimension, which Hjelmslev calls “la direction” [‘direction’], has to do with the possible (real or virtual) movement of one object in relation to the other—e.g., the English preposition from within denotes a relation where one object moves away from the centre of the other one, thus ceasing to be in contact with it. 6 A degree to which two objects are close together, and the type of contact there exists between them—e.g., the English preposition inside denotes an object that is contained in another object.

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à l’individu pensant. Dans le système sublogique, l’idée commune de au-dessus et de au-dessous est une relation entre deux objets pensée objectivement, alors que l’idée commune de devant et de derrière est une relation entre deux objets pensée subjectivement. (Hjelmslev, 1935, p. 132; emphasis original) ‘A relation between two objects may be conceived objectively, i.e. with no regard to the thinking subject, but it may also be conceived subjectively, when the thinking subject is being taken into account. In the sublogic system, both au-dessus and au-dessous denote a relation between two objects that is conceived objectively, while devant and derrière denote a relation between two objects that is conceived subjectively.’

This interpretation of French prepositions devant and derrière is mirrored in Langacker’s analysis of the equivalent English prepositions in front of and behind. Suffice it to mention the example that Langacker has repeatedly commented on: The tree is in front of the rock (cf. e.g. Langacker, 1991, p. 315). What both authors postulate is that the under/above distinction is maintained irrespective of the speaker’s position. By contrast, for the in front of/behind distinction the system is basically tied to the speaker’s/observer’s position. Yet another similarity lies in the way the two authors account for objectivity in first person utterances. Cognitive grammar assumes that in this type of sentence the speaker is maximally objectified, since “in addition to being the conceptualizer, he is also the primary object of conceptualization” (Langacker, 1987, p. 131). Much earlier (1935), Hjelmslev had noticed the asymmetry between the role of the conceptualizer, and that of the object of conceptualization. Cf. (…) si au lieu de il est sous l’arbre je dis je suis sous l’arbre la relation ne serait pas pour cela moins objective. Il convient de se souvenir du fait que l’individu pensant peut lui-même être l’objet de sa propre pensée. (…) Dans ce cas complexe, l’individu pensant est scindé en deux personnes: il est à la fois acteur et spectateur. (Hjelmslev 1935, pp. 132–133) ‘(…) if instead of saying He is under the tree I said I am under the tree, the relation would not be for that reason construed less objectively. Suffice it to remember that the thinking subject may himself become the object of his own thought. (…) In this complex situation, the thinking subject is split into two people: he is the actor and the spectator at the same time.’

Langacker calls this phenomenon “displacement,” and seems to understand it in exactly the same way. Let us also note that the metaphors used by the two authors make use of identical source domains: visual perception (as seen e.g., in the expressions: observer, object of perception) and theater (e.g., scene, actor, spectator). Cf. To describe a relation in which he participates, the speaker invokes the egocentric viewing arrangement and goes on stage within the objective scene. Without resorting to radical displacement, he nevertheless allows himself the luxury of SELF-examination

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from a vantage point G’ sufficiently dissociated from his actual position to overcome the inherent limitations of the latter in this regard. (Langacker, 1985, p. 143)

In Hjelmslev’s view, while prepositions such as au-dessus and au-dessous as a rule denote a relation that is construed objectively, devant and derrière may represent a relation deprived of any exponents of subjectivity/objectivity. A case in point may be the expression derrière la maison [‘behind the house’], whose semantic value does not in any way depend on the position of the speaker/the observer, since houses (as well as e.g., cars, boats, books) are perceived as having a clearly defined front and back.

3.╇Hjelmslev’s account of subjectivity in language vs. Langacker’s approach—similarities and differences Langacker has frequently declared that although the notions “subjectivity” and “objectivity” may have many senses, in his framework they are used as technical terms. “Subjectivity,” in Langacker’s view, “pertains to the observer role in viewing situations where the observer/observed asymmetry is maximized” (1985, p. 115). However, some researchers consider the very notion of “subjectivity” to be problematic. For instance, de Smet and Verstraete (2006, p. 366) find it to be “ill-defined” and difficult to operationalize. Consequently, the authors make an attempt at a more fine-grained analysis, and distinguish subcategories of subjectivity. However, it seems that they eventually do not succeed in ruling out the terminological confusion—in my view, this is partly due to the fact of using certain terms without taking into account the meanings previously ascribed to them. Although Hjelmslev and Langacker at first sight appear to have little in common, the former being a representative of one of the most important structural schools and the latter adopting the cognitive approach to language, the observations they have made and the examples they have decided to cite are to a great extent similar, and the similarities do not seem purely superficial. Both authors employ the notions of “subjectivity” and “objectivity” as an important part of their methodological frameworks. These notions enable Hjelmslev to describe a system of functional oppositions related with the category of case, and in Langacker’s model they constitute facets of construal. However, according to Hjelmslev the dimension of subjectivity/objectivity is not universal in the case-marking system, since it does not occur in all languages. Langacker treats subjectivity/objectivity as linguistic correlates of the conceptual distinction between the observer and the observed. Although subjectivity/objectivity need not be universal distinctions in grammar, in Langacker’s view they are undoubtedly grounded in cognition and perception mechanisms, common to all people. 45

It may also be noted that for Hjelmslev the subjectivity/objectivity distinction is not a substantial element of grammar seen as a whole, while for Langacker it is crucial because it provides conceptual and theoretic basis for the concept of grounding, and for establishing a separate class of grounding expressions, e.g. I, you, here, and now (Langacker, 1990, p. 10). As was mentioned earlier, Hjelmslev’s approach is clearly a localistic one (cf. Anderson, 1971, p. 6–7), and localism involves: (…) the hypothesis that spatial expressions are more basic, grammatically and semantically, than various kinds of non-spatial expressions (…). Spatial expressions are linguistically more basic, according to the localists, in that they serve as structural templates, as it were, for other expressions; and the reason why this should be so, it is plausibly suggested by psychologists, is that spatial organization is of central importance in human cognition. (Lyons 1977, p. 718)

In this point, we can again see a clear parallel between Langacker’s proposal (initially called “space grammar”) and Hjelmslev’s one7. However, it seems that Langacker has significantly refined Hjelmslev’s account by admitting that subjectivity/objectivity do not form a bipolar opposition (with three possible values: +, 0, –), but are scalar dimensions, and consequently it is worth postulating varying degrees of subjectivity. Moreover, he has shown that the concept of subjectivity pertains not only to spatial configurations, but also to temporal relations (e.g. yesterday), mental predications (e.g. this), etc. What appears to be of the greatest value in Langacker’s interpretation as compared to Hjelmslev’s one is the concept of grounding. It allows Langacker to account for semantic contrasts between e.g.: (a) the phrases that contain the first person pronoun as a clear exponent of the objective construal: (b) the phrases in which the personal pronoun is omitted and, as a result, the construal of the speaker is more subjective, (c) the phrases that simply denote a non-deictic relation. It is worth noting the insightful analysis of sentences containing the English expression all around, in which the author demonstrates the mechanisms underpinning the subtle semantic differences (cf. Langacker, 1985, p. 133). Since the work of Émile Benveniste (1971 [1966]), the pervasive nature of subjectivity in language and discourse has become evident. What Benveniste fails to take into account, however, is the fact that the speaker may posit himself not only as “subject”, but as “object” as well. Hjelmslev, as was said earlier, acknowledged this phenomenon, depicting both subjectivity and objectivity in language. Nonetheless, it seems that it was not until Langacker’s framework that 7 This resemblance has already been noted by Parret (1989).

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the question of conceptual objectification received a suitable interpretation. The concepts of displacement (radical or modest) and cross-world identification allow Langacker to describe the semantic value and principles of self-referencing in utterances like Don’t lie to your mother! or That’s me in the top row. Langacker’s analysis brings to mind philosophical investigations into the nature of selfobservation and the construction of self-consciousness. It suffices to mention Paul Ricœur’s book Oneself as another (1992 [1990]) or Leszek Kołakowski’s treaty The Presence of Myth (1989 [1972]). It is the latter that overtly states that the ability of conceptual objectification of oneself is a defining feature of a human being. Cf. Together with tools which make possible an active, physical transformation of the natural environment, we humans have also acquired the tools of spiritual distance in relation to that environment and in relation to ourselves as part of it. It is not the fact that we are feeling and sensitive subjects that distinguishes us among living creatures, but the fact that we can be objects for ourselves, that is, be capable of splitting our consciousness so that it becomes its own observer, so that we not only have an understanding attitude towards the world but so that we have an understanding attitude towards that understanding; that we not only know that we are in the world but that we are the ones who know that we know, or rather, that we are conscious of being a consciousness. (Kołakowski, 1989, p. 116)

Langacker’s attention is clearly focused on concrete linguistic data that enable him to investigate the mechanisms in language by means of which speakers convey their various ways of experiencing reality. What his interpretation shares with the one offered by Benveniste is the conviction that studying language allows us to look into phenomena “placed in phenomenology or in psychology, as one may wish” (Benveniste, 1971, p. 224). Hjelmslev, on the contrary, is interested in studying language only as a system in itself.

4.╇Conclusion The aim of the paper was to set Ronald Langacker’s interpretation of subjectivity/ objectivity in an historical background. From among linguists who undertook this issue, I chose to concentrate on Louis Hjelmslev, since his account seems the least known, but one might easily extend the list to include also e.g., Roman Jakobson, Émile Benveniste or John Lyons. My short description of the ways the two selected scientists defined subjectivity and objectivity aimed at showing that Langacker’s approach is actually an elaboration of intuitions voiced as early as in the 1930s. It is fairly easy to name prominent linguists and philosophers who could be deemed true 47

“pre-cognitivists”, and there exists already a substantial body of papers devoted to tracing the origins of cognitive thought. In the Polish context, Elżbieta Tabakowska (2004) investigated e.g. the works of Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, Zenon Klemensiewicz, Jan Rozwadowski, while Eugene Casad (2001) demonstrated significant parallels between Kenneth L. Pike’s theory, formulated in the 1950s and known as tagmemics, and Langacker’s approach. Unfortunately, the earlier works seem to be rarely cited, which may give a false impression of the whole cognitive enterprise. Truly, we are like dwarfs sitting on the shoulders of giants, and one wishes we were able to acknowledge it more often.

References Anderson, J. M. (1971). The Grammar of Case: towards a localistic theory, Cambridge University Press. Benveniste, É. (1971). Problems in general linguistics, transl. Mary E. Meek, University of Miami Press [orig. 1966, Problèmes de linguistique générale, 1, Gallimard]. Bréal, M. (1900). Semantics: studies in the science of meaning, transl. Mrs. Henry Cust, William Heinemann [orig. 1897, Essai de sémantique (science de significations), Librairie Hachette]. Casad E. H. (2001). Język w relacji do… a językoznawstwo kognitywne, Universitas. Hjelmslev, L. (1935). La catégorie des cas. Étude de grammaire générale. Première partie, Acta Jutlandica VII: 1, Universitetsforlaget Aarhus. Hjelmslev, L. (1937). La catégorie des cas. Étude de grammaire générale. Deuxième partie, Universitetsforlaget Aarhus. Hjelmslev, L. (1958). Dans quelle mesure les significations des mots peuvent-elles être considérées comme formant une structure ?, [in:] Proceedings of the Eighth International Congress of Linguistics, Oslo University Press, 636–654. John of Salisbury (1955). The Metalogicon of John of Salisbury: A Twelfth-century Defense of the Verbal and Logical Arts of the Trivium, transl. Daniel D. McGarry, University of California Press [orig. 1159]. Klebanowska, B. (1971). Znaczenia lokatywne polskich przyimków właściwych, Zakł. Nar. im. Ossolińskich. Kołakowski, L. 1989, The Presence of Myth, transl. A. Czerniawski, The University of Chicago Press [orig. 1972, Obecność mitu, Instytut Literacki]. 48

Langacker, R. W. (1985). Observations and speculations on subjectivity, [in:] John Haiman (Ed.), Iconicity in Syntax, John Benjamins, 109–150. Langacker, R. W. (1987). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar. Vol. I: Theoretical Prerequisites, Stanford University Press. Langacker, R. W. (1990). Subjectification. Cognitive Linguistics 1–1 (1990), 5–38. Langacker, R. W. (1991). Concept, Image, and Symbol. The Cognitive Basis of Grammar, Mouton de Gruyter. Linde-Usiekniewicz, J. (2010). Extrêmement fortes et incroyablement proches: les idées de Saussure, de Chomsky, de Hjelmslev et de Langacker, [in:] Anna Dutka-Mańkowska, Teresa Giermak-Zielińska (Eds.), Des mots et du texte aux conceptions de la description linguistique, Wydawnictwa UW, 333–341. Lyons, J. (1977). Semantics, 2. Cambridge University Press. Parret, H. (1989). Cognition, the localist hypothesis, and back to Kant, [in:] Frans J. Heyvaert, Franz Steurs (Eds.), Worlds Behind Words: Essays in Honour of Prof. Dr. F.G. Droste on the Occasion of His Sixtieth Birthday, Leuven University Press, 37–50. Ricœur, P. (1992). Oneself as Another, transl. K. Blamey, University of Chicago Press [orig. 1990, Soi-même comme un autre, Seuil]. Smet, de, H. & Verstraete, J.-C.. (2006). Coming to terms with subjectivity, Cognitive Linguistics 17–3, 365–392. Tabakowska, E. (2004). Kognitywizm po polsku – wczoraj i dziś, Universitas. Traugott, E., & Dasher, R. B. (2002). Regularity in Semantic Change, Cambridge University Press.

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Błażej Garczyński Adam Mickiewicz University, Poznań, Poland

A cognitive analysis of spatial particles in Danish ENHEDSFORBINDELSER and corresponding compounds1 Abstract This short article focuses on specific constructions within the fields of morphology and word formation of the Danish language called enhedsforbindelser and a cognitive analysis of spatial particles in these constructions. The article presents major notions of spatial semantics that can be applied to the particles appearing in both these verbal forms, and analyses chosen verbs on the basis of these notions. It shows briefly what kind of constructions enhedsforbindelser are and contrasts them with corresponding compound verbs. It also discusses the terms that can be applied to the elements involved both in enhedsforbindelser and compound verbs, and what kind of semantic differences occur between the two verbal forms. Finally, the concept of radial networks is depicted as a basis for schematic representation of the spatial configurations that a particle may display in different contexts. Keywords enhedsforbindelser; compound verbs; verb particles; conceptual metaphor; prototype; protoscene; landmark – trajector; spatial semantics; spatial primitives; radial set; radial network.

1.╇Introduction The aim of the article is to present an analysis of some Danish enhedsforbindelser2 /unitary connections/3 and their corresponding compounds using some basic notions of spatial semantics. Enhedsforbindelser are constructions within verb compounding that have a fairly complex structure. Danish compound verbs can 1 Proofread by Siddharth Naraya. 2 The term can be found in Novotný (1991) and although it has not been used commonly in Danish linguistics I decided to apply it instead of the English term phrasal verbs in order to depict the uniqueness of the enhedsforbindelser’s structure in relation to the corresponding compounds. 3 Single slashes /…/ are used for my rough translations for some of the introduced terms.

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be divided into two main categories, one being compounds of a particle and a verb (e.g. afgive, frafalde), the other being a connection of a verb with a noun (halshugge, deltage), an adjective (frigive, vildlede) or another verb (gravepløje), with the latter group much lesser in number than the former (Bauer, 2005, p. 412; Lorentzen, 2007). The article focuses on the first group. There is a specific tendency that pertains to these compounds – on the one hand they can act as inseparable units, but on the other the first element can be cut off from the verb and appear (directly or indirectly) after it in the sentence4. These forms are called ægte sammensatte verber (/true compound verbs/) and uægte sammensatte verber (/untrue compound verbs/), respectively (Rajnik, 2006, pp. 134–136). Here is a table to illustrate their structures (examples taken from Becker-Christensen, Heede-Andersen, Pallesen, and Grue, 2002): Table 1: /True/ and /untrue/ compounds True compound verbs (inseparable form only)

Skibet blev navngivet af skibsrederens hustru. (The ship was named after the ship owner’s wife.)

Untrue compound verbs Unseparated form Separated form

Politiet har afspærret gaden. (The police have cordoned off the street.) Politiet har spærret gaden af. (The police have cordoned the street off.)

The structure of these verb forms causes dilemmas with regard to the terminology that should be applied in order to describe them. In this analysis, however, it will suffice to say that the separated form of the untrue compound is called enhedsforbindelse and that it consists of the verb and the cut off particle that is called postverb (according to Jarosz, 2008) while the true compound will simply be called partikelverb (Rajnik, 2009, pp. 192–193); so as the name suggests, its first element is a partikel. Although the terminology poses a challenge it is not the main problem concerning these forms. As we can see in Table 1. the form of both the enhedsforbindelse and its corresponding partikelverb is synonymic. Luckily, this applies to the majority of such verbal pairs and the only difference lies in the style of their usage: the enhedsforbindelse is usually used colloquially whilst the partikelverb is more formal (this distinction goes as far as the Protestant Reformation). Unfortunately, there are many pairs of this kind that have completely different meanings. 4 Most of the compounds with an adjective, a noun or a verb as the first element are not separable, but there are cases in which the separated form is the only one existent, e.g. falde omkuld (Lorentzen, 2007).

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From a morphological and syntactic point of view it is extremely difficult or even impossible to say why these differences occur at all. The answer to this difficulty seems to lie in the particles themselves and may be provided by an analysis from a cognitive perspective regarding their spatial semantics. In the following article I shall present some basic notions related to spatial semantics that can effectively be applied to the analysis of the enhedsforbindelser and corresponding partikelverbs.

2.╇Review of literature Where morphological terminology is concerned, the following titles need to be taken into consideration: general discussion on compounding and particles: Bauer (2005), Fleischer/Barz (2012); in regard to partikelverbs: Strzelecka (2003), Rajnik (2006, 2009), Jarosz (2008). The spatiality in language is described in: Miller & Johnson-Laird (1976), Maciejewski (1996), Krzeszowski (1998). Spatial semantics and all the related terms are elaborated in: Levelt (1996), Levinson (2004), Talmy (2000, 2007), Zlatev (2007), Szwedek (2009), Lakoff (1987, 2011), Langacker (1999, 2013). The prototype theory and radial networks are elaborated in following works: Rosch (1973), Jackendoff (1993), Geeraerts (2006), Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk (2007), Tyler & Evans (2007).

3.╇Study This section describes the method applied focusing on the basic spatial semantics terminology applied, the prototype/protoscene and radial set theory. Thereafter the chosen material for the research is presented and discussed.

3.1╇Method The primary focus of this research is spatial semantics, a domain that has received much attention in linguistic literature, mainly due to the fact that it is a universal trait in all languages, and that reflects our human experience (Miller & JohnsonLaird, 1976, pp. 375–377; Maciejewski, 1996, pp. 9–15). Other reasons would be the basic nature of space and that it is reflected in different, sometimes quite remote semantic domains. Moreover, spatial expressions may take different (i.e. temporal or abstract) meanings depending on their context. One reason behind this is the fact that spatial orientation never functions as a target domain (Krzeszowski, 1998, p. 81). Moreover, this parallel can also be explained by the notion of conceptual metaphors – we understand one experiential, more abstract domain in terms of another, more concrete one (Lakoff & Johnson, 1980, pp. 3–6). Space seems to be more concrete than any other domain; thus “space is at the heart of all 53

conceptualization” (Pütz & Dirven, 1996, p. xi as cited in Zlatev, 2007, p. 319), though some researchers would argue that e.g. time is no less a basic notion than space. Spatial semantics studies spatial language that creates an important part of the background for all conceptualization and meaning, but this may lead us to the conclusion that all semantics is spatial, therefore its scope must be clearly defined. Three possible solutions are then proposed (Zlatev, 2007, p. 318–321): (1) the most common way to define spatial semantics is in terms of a class of expressions intended especially for spatial meanings, e.g. prepositions expressing a configuration in space. However, this does not distinguish spatial from nonspatial meanings and limits itself to a class of items that is not universal. (2) An alternative would be to treat spatial language notionally, i.e. spatial expressions would express spatial relations. Such a method presupposes the existence of two semantic primitives – the trajector and the landmark (see below). This approach has also been criticized since different languages may apply different strategies for locating objects. There are also some difficulties connected with the notion of the landmark, but I would like to address them further on. (3) The third method of bounding the scope of spatial semantics is to refer to their communicative functions, i.e. to their way of expressing the location or trajectory of a referent in a discourse, although this manner also has its setbacks – one of them is that it does not allow any metaphorical extensions. In this article I shall apply the second method of restricting the scope of spatial semantics mainly due to the fact that the semantic primitives of (among others) trajector and landmark can be successfully and efficiently applied to the analysis I am to perform – on the one hand it allows us to investigate non-spatial meanings (which are excluded in the first approach) and on the other hand it enables the analysis of metaphorical uses of a particle (which is not possible in the third approach).

3.1.1╇ Spatial semantics primitives When describing spatial semantics one must use a set of concepts that display an array of semantic universals or primitives. Numerous notions have been proposed in literature, but seven of them can be found in nearly every description (Zlatev, 2007, pp. 326–334). These are: trajector, landmark, frame of reference, region, path, direction and motion. I shall describe them shortly in the following sections. 3.1.1.1╇Trajector The term trajector, which I will apply, has been used by Lakoff (2011, p. 417) and Langacker (2013, p. 70). Generally speaking, it is an entity that is being 54

located in an utterance and refers to either an object (a person) or an event that is static or dynamic. Langacker (2013, p. 70) says that it is “the primary focus within the profiled relationship”. It is worth mentioning that other terms have also been proposed: Talmy’s figure (2007, p. 772; the term is known from Gestalt psychology) and a more general term referent (applied by Miller & Johnson, 1976). I will not use these terms, for, according to the authors that make use of them, they can only be used to depict objects and not events. 3.1.1.2╇Landmark The notion of the landmark (Langacker, 2013, p. 70) is very closely linked to the previous notion of the trajector. Its task is to serve as a reference point for the trajector – its position and/or motion. Other terms used are ground (Talmy, 2007, p. 772; it is used interchangeably with Reference Object) and relatum (Miller & Johnson-Laird, 1976). The main difference of opinion between various researchers has to do with the existence of the landmark – does it appear in every utterance? Langacker (1999, pp. 217–218) claimed that both the notion of the trajector and the landmark are highly general and need not pertain to spatial domains nor be derived from them. Hence, basically every point of reference may serve as a landmark and exists in every utterance. However, Langacker (2013, p. 71) states: “[m]any relational expressions have only a single focal participant. By default, the sole focal participant must be the primary focal participant, which makes it the trajector.” 3.1.1.3╇ Frame of Reference and Viewpoint The notion of the Frame of Reference (FoR) has been widely acknowledged by virtually every author tackling spatial semantics but it still lacks an exact definition. Generally speaking, FoR consists of reference points, axes and angles which constitute different types of FoR. Levinson (2004, p. 35) mentions three types of FoR: (1) intrinsic FoR: the reference point is the landmark itself and the axes and angles are based on its geometry (e.g. in front of the house); (2) relative FoR: the reference point is a real or imaginary viewpoint that gives the coordinates (e.g. in front of the wall); (3) absolute FoR: based on geographical coordinates (e.g. North of the border). Furthermore, one can specify the viewpoint of the frame (Zlatev, 2007, p. 329): it may be (1) viewpoint-centred: it does not need to have a speaker as an origin (so it need not be deictic), (2) object-centred: it always involves a landmark and can be projective or non-projective, i.e. topological, and (3) geocentric: involving a horizontal and a vertical plane and specifying the location in accordance with fixed geographical positions. 55

3.1.1.4╇Region Languages do not relate the trajector and landmark directly but do it via a region, i.e. space configuration in relation to the landmark (Zlatev, 2007, p. 330). Jackendoff (1993, pp. 161–162) applies the terms thing and place to describe the landmark and region respectively. Jackendoff also claims that regions are universal and can be found in every language (1993, p. 203), which seems slightly far-fetched, although it is quite reasonable to claim that every language applies the notion, but in a different manner and in varying extent. This is exactly the claim of Talmy (2007, p. 821), who uses the term conformation. Some of the regions that can be named are interior:exterior (inside:outside), superior:inferior (above:below), anterior:posterior (in front of:behind; Zlatev, 2007, p. 330; Lakoff, 2011, p. 280). 3.1.1.5╇Path The notion of path may be applied to the trajectory of the trajector in relation to the landmark – it is schematic and described as possessing both extension and shape. It may consist of three elements: beginning, middle and end (Lakoff, 2011, pp. 271–272) – it is then called a “schematic path” (since it is treated as an image schema). Talmy (2000, p. 53) also applies this notion and calls it vector. The path may also be non-existent and will then receive the value ‘zero’ (e.g. in cases of static verbs). He also gives an account of many different types of paths (2000, pp. 106–116). 3.1.1.6╇Direction Direction is a notion depicting a vector that runs along the axes of the FoR. In most cases though, the notion is a part of the above-mentioned concept of the path and is referred to as “imperfective path” or “perfective path” (Hawkings, 1984 as cited in Zlatev 2007, p. 333). However, English, German and Danish verbs expressing motion normally do not contain the information about the direction, which motivates the application of this notion in my analysis as well. 3.1.1.7╇Motion As in the case of the path, motion is perceived in two different ways: as referring to the actual perceived manner of a movement (true motion) or pertaining to imaginary scenarios (fictive motion is suggested by Talmy (2000, pp. 103–105); abstract motion appears in Langacker, 2013, pp. 74–75). Talmy (2000, pp. 141–156) gives an elaborate list over the motion types that express different levels of “palpability” pointing to the fact that every speaker perceives motion in various manners. Therefore, without going into details, one may say that motion 56

can generally be divided into two main categories: either it is perceived (true motion) or not (fictive motion).

3.1.2╇ Prototype, radial set and protoscene Prototype theory, as proposed within the field of psychology by Rosch (1973) goes against the Classical Theory of meaning that perceived it as a set of features that form the definitional structure of any category. Prototypes lie on the exact opposite pole: not every member of a category represents it equally; categories are blurred at the edges (Lakoff (1987, p. 56) says that they are “fuzzy”)); they cannot be defined by critical attributes; instead, they show family resemblances5 (Geeraerts, 2006, pp. 146–147; Lakoff, 2011, pp. 38–39.). Verb particles that I analyse here are also a prototype, but due to their spatial nature they do not represent a single meaning, rather a prototype scene that can then be applied towards a specific situation. Tyler & Evans (2007, p. 198) define this in the following manner: “At the conceptual level, the primary sense is represented in terms of abstracting away from specific spatial scenes, that is, real-world scenarios […], resulting in an idealized spatio-functional configuration. We call this abstracted mental representation of the primary sense the protoscene.” I shall also use the term protoscene – in accordance with Tyler & Evans (2007, p. 198) it will contain a trajector (and an optional landmark) and can be presented by means of a schema or a diagram. The last mentioned feature of a prototype (or a protoscene, which is the case here) – the family resemblance – is especially relevant in Cognitive Linguistics. Kleiber (1990) as cited in Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk, 2007, p. 147) introduces the so called “extended version of prototype theory” claiming that the theory may be applied not only to single meanings but also to polysemic sets of meanings, thus creating a radial set of a conceptual structure. Brugman and Lakoff (1988 as cited in Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk, 2007, p. 148) describe a radial set in the following manner: the central category member is a cognitive model motivating the non-central members. They are linked to each other by means of transformation, metaphor, metonymy etc.

5 The notion of FAMILY RESEMBLANCE was quite accurately presented already by Ludwig Wittgenstein in his Philosophical Investigations (first published 1953). Wittgenstein was also the author of the so called language picture theory also known as picture theory of meaning, which was elaborated in the first three theses of his Tractatus. According to this theory the language depicts the world by using geometrical projections within the mind.

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3.2╇ Data presentation In my analysis I shall focus on two different aspects resulting from the application of the terms presented above. Firstly, I shall apply the notions described in 3.1.1.1–3.1.1.7. to the following sentences6: Evan vendte sig om mod advokaten (Evan turned [lit. around] towards the attorney) and […] kristne missionærer søgte at omvende japanerne til den katolske kristendom (Christian missionaries tried to convert [lit.: turn around] the Japanese to Catholic Christianity), Vintergækken er sprunget ud (The snowdrop has come [lit. jumped] out) and Kilder, som udspringer i bjergene (springs that rise [lit. jump out] in the mountains), Danmark kan ikke lukke sig ude fra Europa (Danmark can’t shut itself [lit. out] away from Europe) and Nogle kvinder var udelukket fra fællesskabet (Some women were excluded [lit. locked out] from the company), Hun havde allerede sat vand over til æggene (She had already put water on [lit. over] to [boil] eggs) and Komponisten har selv oversat teksten til dansk […] (The composer has translated [lit. put over] the text into Danish himself […]). Secondly, I shall attempt to analyse the meanings of the Danish verb particle over (roughly corresponding to the English particle over and German über) by using the notion of the radial network as presented in 3.1.2. To describe here all the possible meanings of this particle would be a futile attempt (not to mention that over is a particle that is semantically “poorer” than e.g. ind or ud (≈ English in/out, German ein/aus)). Here are two examples that depict the scale of the enterprise: Brugman (1981 as cited in Lakoff, 2011, p. 416) names nearly one hundred possible uses of the English preposition over, whilst Lindner (1981 as cited in Lakoff, 2011, p. 416) analyses over 1800 (sic!) verbal constructions of the English verbal particles up and out and their influence on the meaning (the numbers may seem astonishing, but they are well justified if one recalls the linguistic primacy of spatiality and its applicability towards both spatial and non-spatial contexts). Therefore, only a few major meanings of the Danish particle will be shown here supported by some example sentences, to present the general idea of how the radial set can be applied and what results it may produce. However these enormous usage amounts may be questioned. Szwedek (2009) points out quite accurately that even though one may list such numerous uses of the preposition or particle they are not all linked to their basic meaning but are rather context oriented. From this point of view a preposition or a particle becomes highly schematic, unambiguous (i.e. not polysemantic) and its possible meanings are derived only from the context in which it appears. One may therefore say these are context 6 All these sentences can be found in KorpusDK under http://ordnet.dk/korpusdk.

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dependent (Szwedek, 2009, pp. 173–174). This may indeed be true if we analyse a preposition or a particle within one language only but such a listing of possible meanings/uses may become quite practical when performing contrastive studies. Let us analyse the usage of over in the following pairs of sentences: Luke went over the bridge; A bird flew over the bridge. If compared to Danish: Lukas gik over broen; En fugl fløj over broen and German: Lukas ging über die Brücke; Ein Vogel flog über die Brücke, the prepositions remain the same. However, if compared to Polish: Łukasz przeszedł przez [lit. through] most; Ptak przeleciał nad [lit. over; above] mostem, we can observe that different prepositions are used, which could be explained by the differing perception of the Region (elaborated in 3.1.1.4.) in various languages.

3.3╇Discussion I performed an analysis of the endhedsforbindelser and compounds from the above mentioned sentences by means of the discussed spatial semantic primitives. The results for each sentence pair are shown in the table below: Table 2: The analysis of the semantic primitives in chosen verbs Evan vendte sig om mod advokaten. Trajector: Evan

Region: interior

Landmark: advokaten

Path: end

FoR: relative, viewpoint-centred

Motion: real

[…] kristne missionærer søgte at omvende japanerne til den katolske kristendom. Trajector: japanerne

Region: interior

Landmark: den katolske kristendom FoR: relative, viewpoint-centred

Path: beginning Motion: fictive

Vintergækken er sprunget ud. Trajector: vintergækken Landmark: -

Region: interior → exterior Path: end

FoR: intrinsic, object-centred

Motion: real

Kilder, som udspringer i bjergene […] Trajector: kilder Landmark: bjergene FoR: intrinsic, object-centred

Region: interior → exterior Path: beginning Motion: real

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Danmark kan ikke lukke sig ude fra Europa. Trajector: Danmark Landmark: Europa FoR: relative, viewpoint-centred

Region: exterior Path: zero Motion: zero

Nogle kvinder var udelukket fra fællesskabet. Trajector: Nogle kvinder Landmark: fællesskabet FoR: relative; viewpoint -centred

Region: exterior Path: zero Motion: zero

Hun havde allerede sat vand over til æggene. Trajector: vand Landmark: -

Region: interior → exterior Path: end

FoR: relative, viewpoint -centred

Motion: real

Komponisten har selv oversat teksten til dansk […] Trajector: teksten Landmark: dansk FoR: relative, viewpoint -centred

Region: interior → exterior Path: end Motion: fictive

The following figure shows a few basic meanings of the particle over. The central column is the schematic protoscene conveyed by the particle. The protoscene serves as a basis for all meanings of the particle more or less closely related to the original protoscene. As mentioned earlier it would be impossible to make a profound and exact list of its potential meanings here, so only a few major instances have been chosen. Figure 1: The radial set of ‘over’

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Table 3: The analysis of the chosen meanings in the radial set of the particle OVER Meaning 1: the trajector moves over a landmark covering it; e.g.: dække bordet over = overdække bordet (to lay [lit. cover over] the table). Meaning 2: the trajector moves from one landmark to another; e.g.: oversætte en bog (translate [lit. put over] a book ) ≠ sætte vandet over [til kaffe] (to put the kettle on [lit. over]). Meaning 3: the trajector is moving away, disappearing or constantly losing its strength; e.g. tandpinen går over (the toothache is passing [lit. goes over]). Meaning 4: the trajector is moving over the border of the landmark, often with undesired or negative results; e.g. badekar løber over (the bathtub is running over). Additionally, this example shows that English shares not only the particle over but also the verb (or rather the how it depicts the motion of the water overflowing the tub). In this case the corresponding compound overløbe is not analysed, for it is barely used due to its archaic nature.

4.╇Conclusions The initial conclusion achieved by the analysis is that the difference between the literal and figurative meanings of the enhedsforbindelser and the corresponding compounds is abolished due to the nature of Cognitive Linguistics itself and due to the fact that spatiality is the common domain for all utterances regardless of their “literal” or “metaphorical” nature. The underlying system of the spatial primitives is equal for both verbal forms with one exception - which is that the movement that may be either true or fictive, and is basically the only reason for the more general classification into “literal” and “metaphorical” meaning. Moreover, one can see that particles describe a movement which often results in the change of the region of movement associated with the trajector. Furthermore, the notion of the radial network may be successfully applied towards an analysis of a particle showing its meanings in more specific settings. Although which meanings - or rather, spatial schemas - are more central, and which are more peripheral in relation to the protoscene remains an open question, an answer to this could be provided based on an extensive corpus research. It is also worth noting that in most cases the particle will be dynamic, i.e. depicting a movement of the trajector.

References Bauer, L. (2005). IE, Germanic: Danish. In P. Štekauer & R. Lieber (Eds.), Handbook of word-formation (pp. 400–416). Dordrecht: Springer. 61

Becker-Christensen, Ch., Heede-Andersen, S., Pallesen, B. R., & Grue, M. (Eds.). (2002). Politikens Nudansk Ordbog (18. edition). København: Politikens Forlag A/S. Brugman, C. (1981). Story of Over. MA thesis, University of California, Berkeley. Brugman, C., & Lakoff, G. (1988). Cognitive topology and lexical networks. In S. L. Small, G. W. Cottrell & M. Tanenhaus (Eds.), Lexical Ambiguity Resolution (pp. 477–508). San Mateo, CA: Morgan Kaufman. Fleischer, W., & Barz, I. (2012). Wortbildung der deutschen Gegenwartssprache (4., völlig neu bearbeitete Auflage). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Geeraerts, D. (2006). Prototype theory. Prospects and problems of prototype theory. In D. Geeraerts (Ed.), Cognitive Linguistics. Basic Readings (pp. 141–165). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Hawkings, B. W. (1984). The semantics of English spatial prepositions. PhD dissertation, University of California at San Diego. Jackendoff, R. (1993). Semantics and cognition. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Jarosz, J. (2008). Duńskie ekwiwalenty tłumaczeniowe polskich przyimków we frazach temporalnych. Wrocław: Oficyna Wydawnicza ATUT. Kleiber, G. (1990). La sémantique du prototype: Catégories et sens lexical. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Krzeszowski, T. P. (1998). Aksjologiczne aspekty metaphor. In W. Kubiński, R. Kalisz & E. Modrzejewska (Eds.), Językoznawstwo kognitywne. Wybór tekstów (pp. 80–103). Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego, Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal About the Mind. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, G. (2011). Kobiety, ogień i rzeczy niebezpieczne. Co kategorie mówią nam o umyśle (E. Tabakowska, Ed.; M. Buchta, A. Kotarba, A. Skucińska, Trans.). Kraków: Universitas. (Original Work Published 1987) Lakoff, G., & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Langacker, R. W. (1999). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar (Vol. 1). Stanford: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R. W. (2013). Essentials of Cognitive Grammar. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 62

Levelt, W. J. M. (1996). Perspective Taking and Ellipsis in Spatial Descriptions. In P. Bloom, M. A. Peterson, L. Nadel & M. F. Garrett (Eds.), Language and Space (pp. 77–107). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Levinson, S. C. (2004). Space in Language and Cognition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk, B. (2007). Polysemy, Prototypes, and Radial Categories. In D. Geeraerts & H. Cuyckens (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Cognitive Linguistics (pp. 139–169). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lindner, S. (1981). A Lexico-Semantic Analysis of English Verb-Particle Constructions with UP and OUT. PhD Thesis, University of California, San Diego. Lorentzen, H. (2007). Løst og fast om sammensætninger. Politiken, Sprogligt, 10.09.2007. Retrieved April 8, 2013, from http://sproget.dk/sprogligt/ 10-oktober-2007/lost-og-fast-om-sammensetninger Maciejewski, W. (1996). O przestrzeni w języku. Studium typologiczne z językiem polskim w centrum. Poznań: Wydawnictwo Naukowe UAM. Miller, G. A., & Johnson-Laird, P. N. (1976). Language and perception. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press. Pütz, M., & Dirven, R. (Eds.). (1996). The construal of space in language and thought. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Rajnik, E. (2006). Podstawy gramatyki języka duńskiego. Poznań: Wydawnictwo Naukowe UAM. Rajnik, E. (2009). Implizite Derivation und Verbstammkonversion im Dänischen. Folia Scandinavica Posnaniensa, 10, 181–195. Rosch, E. H. (1973). Natural categories, Cognitive Psychology, 4, 328–350. Strzelecka, E. (2003). Svenska partikelverb med in, utt, upp och ner. En semantisk studie ur kognitivt perspektiv. Uppsala: Institutionen för nordiska språk vid Uppsala Universitet. Szwedek, A. (2009). Are prepositions metaphorical? In W. Oleksy & P. Stalmaszczyk (Eds.), Cognitive Approaches to Language and Linguistic Data. Studies in honor of Barbara Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk (pp. 171–180). Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, Talmy, L. (2000). Toward a Cognitive Semantics (Vol. II). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Talmy, L. (2007). How language structures space, In V. Evans, B. Bergen & J. Zinken (Eds.), The Cognitive Linguistics Reader (pp. 766–830). London, Oakville: Equinox, 63

Tyler, A., & Evans V. (2007). Reconsidering prepositional polysemy networks: The case of over. In V. Evans, B. Bergen & J. Zinken (Eds.), The Cognitive Linguistics Reader (pp. 186–237). London, Oakville: Equinox. Wittgenstein, L. (1975). Tractatus logico-philosophicus. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp. Wittgenstein, L. (1982). Philosophische Untersuchungen. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp. Zlatev, J. (2007). Spatial Semantics. In D. Geeraerts & H. Cuyckens (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Cognitive Linguistics (pp. 318–350). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

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Agnieszka Gicala Pedagogical University of Cracow

A cognitive analysis of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its Polish translations: linguistic worldview in translation criticism1 Abstract Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland has been translated into Polish several times; the latest translation – by Elżbieta Tabakowska – appeared in 2012. For both a translation studies scholar and a translation student it is fascinating to trace and investigate particular choices made by the translators in the texts of their translations – but it is also revealing to read and juxtapose the translators’ comments and explanations. The present paper offers a cognitive analysis and comparison of selected phenomena, found in the original and six Polish translations: by Maria Morawska, Antoni Marianowicz, Maciej Słomczyński, Robert Stiller, Krzysztof Dworak and, finally, by Elżbieta Tabakowska, which may be regarded as elements of the linguistic worldview (as defined by Jerzy Bartmiński and the Polish school of ethnolinguistics). The text and translation analysis is supported by the translators’ views of their own work, revealing their viewpoints and leading to explanation of their translation strategies as well as the resulting decisions of detail. The study discusses the aspect of creativity within the linguistic worldview, that is the possibility of applying this concept to literary texts as well as attempts to use it in the assessment of translations, thus testing its applicability for translation studies (and literary translation assessment in particular). Keywords Linguistic worldview; literary translation; translation criticism; cognitive linguistics

1.╇Introduction The present paper juxtaposes the latest Polish translation of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Elżbieta Tabakowska (published in 2012) with 1 Proofread by John Adams.

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some of the earlier ones, whose value for the translation scholar lies, among others, in the translators’ comments on their work and/or in the distance in time between them. Obviously, against this background, it is fascinating to trace and investigate particular choices made by the translators in the texts of their translations, particularly in the cognitive perspective assumed in the present analysis of selected phenomena, found in the original and the six selected translations, by Maria Morawska, Antoni Marianowicz, Maciej Słomczyński, Robert Stiller, Krzysztof Dworak and Elżbieta Tabakowska, which may be regarded as elements of the linguistic worldview (as defined by Jerzy Bartmiński, founder of the Polish school of ethnolinguistics). It is my belief that examination of the linguistic worldview present in the original and its translation may help determine a given translation strategy as well as the decisions of detail that follow it. My study discusses the aspect of creativity within the linguistic worldview, that is the possibility of applying the concept of linguistic worldview to literary texts and using it in the assessment of literary translations, thus testing its applicability for translation studies.

2.╇Review of literature The review of literature below is twofold as it includes the material and the tools of the present study. Its first section contains basic data concerning the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its author that are necessary for the analysis conducted in Section 3 below; after which Subsection 2.2. provides a list of all Polish translations of the book. This presentation of the material is followed by discussion of the analytical tool: linguistic worldview, briefly presenting the history and the understanding of the concept.

2.1╇ Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its author Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832–1898) was an English mathematician, logician and Anglican deacon. He worked at the University of Oxford as mathematical lecturer at Christ Church College but he was also a photographer and a writer. Using the pen name of Lewis Carroll, he wrote the books: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (first published in 1866) and Through the Looking-Glass (1871). The year 1960 saw the publication of perhaps the most famous edition of those two books called The Annotated Alice, containing elaborate annotations by Martin Gardner. Their scope is not limited to the books themselves but covers the significant aspects of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson’s life and of the 19th-century reality, the elements of which largely contribute to the understanding of the books by readers today. Although Lewis Carroll’s books are regarded as literature for adult readers, they keep being formally classified (for example by libraries 66

and bookstores) and published as children’s books (this is also often reflected in the kind of accompanying “infantile” illustrations, as is the case of some Polish editions). There have also appeared several simplified versions for children.

2.2╇ Polish translations of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland There have been as many as twelve Polish translations of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, some of which include Through the Looking-Glass. The list below presents them all, in the order of the year of their first publication, together with the names of the translators. If a given translation is now available under a changed title or in a combined edition, this information is provided in brackets (for the complete bibliographical data of the editions used in this study, see the References): 1. 1910, Przygody Alinki w Krainie Cudów, trans. Adela S. (whose last name is unknown); 2. 1927, Ala w krainie czarów. Powieść dla młodzieży, trans. Maria Morawska (now available as Alicja w Krainie Czarów, Wyd. Siedmioróg, 2009); 3. 1955, Alicja w Krainie Czarów, trans. Antoni Marianowicz (now available as a double edition, including Alicja po drugiej stronie zwierciadła, trans. Hanna Baltyn, Wyd. Nasza Księgarnia, 2009); 4. 1965, Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów. O tym, co Alicja odkryła po drugiej stronie lustra, trans. Maciej Słomczyński; 5. 1986, Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów, trans. Robert Stiller – a bilingual, extensively annotated edition; 6. 1999, Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów: Po tamtej stronie lustra i co Alicja tam znalazła; trans. Jolanta Kozak; 7. 2000, Alicja w Krainie Czarów, trans. Iwona Libucha; 8. 2010, Alicja w Krainie Czarów, trans. Krzysztof Dworak; 9. 2010, Alicja w Krainie Czarów, trans. Bogumiła Kaniewska; 10. 2010, Przygody Alicji w krainie czarów. Alicja po drugiej stronie lustra; trans. Magdalena Machay; 11. 2010, Ilustrowane przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów i Po drugiej stronie lustra; trans. Katarzyna Dmowska; 12. 2012, Alicja w Krainie Czarów, trans. Elżbieta Tabakowska.

2.3╇ Linguistic worldview The development of the concept of linguistic worldview has a very long history, beginning in Ancient Greece, where it took the form of philosophical debates focussed around the question the conventional or natural character of words (Pajdzińska, 2013, p. 41). The debates were alive for centuries and kept the 67

philosophical perspective until the 19th century. Wilhelm von Humboldt was the main German philosopher who expressed an idea that language both reflects and affects human thinking, and that thinking is thus inevitably subjective. Among the terms used by Humboldt was Weltansicht, combining the German words: Welt – “world” and Ansicht – “view, opinion”. The idea was taken up and modified by the so-called Neo-Humboldtians with the German linguist Leo Weisgerber; the term that they proposed was sprachliches Weltbild (which, I believe, may be translated as “linguistic world-image/picture”). Linguistic relativism also developed among American ethnolinguists with the most prominent figures of Benjamin Lee Whorf and Edward Sapir (Pajdzińska, 2013, pp. 42–43). A more detailed account of the history of linguistic relativism, its many forms and terminology may be found in Pieciul-Karmińska (2007, pp. 11–20), Pajdzińska, (2013, pp. 41–48) and Głaz, Danaher, Łozowski (2013, pp. 11–16). The 1980s in Poland saw the revival of the concept of linguistic worldview in Lublin, where it was developed mainly by Jerzy Bartmiński, the initiator of what has become to be known as the Lublin school of ethnolinguistics. Originally focussed on the worldview contained in rural Polish, the school’s field of interest has extended to “any ethnic language, dialect, or language variety, from rural folk dialects, through urban dialects, student jargons, to national languages, etc.” (Głaz, Danaher, Łozowski 2013, p. 15) The definition of linguistic worldview formulated by Bartmiński (2009, p. 76) is as follows: […] by linguistic worldview I mean the interpretation of reality encoded in a given language, which can be captured in the form of judgements about the world. The judgements can be either entrenched in the language, its grammatical forms, lexicon, and ‘frozen’ texts (e.g. proverbs) or implied by them. A worldview is an interpretation or projection, rather than a reflection of reality.… Words ‘portray’ things mentally, rather than reproducing them in a photographic manner.

This opens a possibility to develop methodologies of research in numerous domains related to language in the cognitive linguistic perspective, from the investigation of a single language or its variety to comparative research. The latter has led me to the application of linguistic worldview in translation studies; in particular, I have used it in literary translation criticism (for example Gicala 2013, pp. 61–75) and in practice, namely in the teaching of literary translation, where I have found it useful as an element of translation strategy and the assessment of students’ work.

3.╇Study: method, data presentation and discussion The sections below further test the concept of linguistic worldview as applicable to literary translation criticism and assessment by exploring the aspects of 68

conventionality and creativity within the concept of linguistic worldview in the original and its translations. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the literary text that is the object of the analysis below, has been chosen because of the large number of its Polish translations - and probably an equal number of the translators’ intentions and goals, as well as controversies, which it is fascinating to trace along with the actual passages from Lewis Carroll’s book and its several Polish versions. I am particularly interested in the three translations that were heavily criticised by Robert Stiller, who in the introduction to his translation praised his own work against the background of his “less accomplished” predecessors. Naturally, I would like to contrast them with Stiller and, finally, with a relatively new translation by Krzysztof Dworak as well as the most recent one by Elżbieta Tabakowska.

3.1╇ The analysed translations The six translations selected for analysis in this study are, in the order of their first publication (as listed in 2.2. above): –â•fi Maria Morawska’s Alicja w Krainie Czarów; –â•fi Antoni Marianowicz’s Alicja w Krainie Czarów; –â•fi Maciej Słomczyński’s Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów. O tym, co Alicja odkryła po drugiej stronie lustra; –â•fi Robert Stiller’s Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów; –â•fi Krzysztof Dworak’s Alicja w Krainie Czarów; –â•fi Elżbieta Tabakowska’s Alicja w Krainie Czarów. As Robert Stiller’s extremely critical comments on the earlier translations serve as my point of departure, I would like to present them first. Stiller clearly despises Maria Morawska’s work (the oldest translation available), as being “childish”, “in bad taste”, containing “hundreds of ” “distortions and omissions” as if she parodied Carroll’s book (Stiller, 1990, p. 15 – trans. mine, A.G.). Accusations against Antoni Marianowicz are based on the fact that he frequently “did not understand English” and thus made “his own paraphrases”, which sounded “banal”, not to mention obvious misunderstandings resulting from that. At least, however, Stiller admits that Marianowicz has a good “light style”, superior to Słomczyński’s (Stiller, 1990, p. 15 – trans. mine, A.G.). It is the rough, unnatural style, full of “anglicisms”, that exposed Maciej Słomczyński to Stiller’s attack; the latter even says that Słomczyński’s translation was published only because he was already well-known as a translator – although he acknowledges the fact that Słomczyński “produced the first Polish translation [that was] lege artis and complete” 69

(Stiller, 1990, p. 15 – trans. mine, A.G.). However, it needs to be said at this point that Słomczyński himself did realise the particular translation problems that he encountered and he was aware of both how much had been lost in translation and that his Polish was not beautiful. He admitted to sacrificing the style to meet the linguistic requirements of Carroll’s text (Stiller, 1990, p. 6). According to his own account, Stiller refrained from translating the book himself for as long as 10 years as he had waited politely to see if Słomczyński improves his work. When Stiller eventually published his own rendering of Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów, it became an immediate success: it read well and was a bestseller. Stiller emphasises his scientific approach and precision: not only did he choose The Annotated Alice as his source text but he also made use of the Czech, Slovak and Russian translations; thanks to extensive footnotes the Polish reader can fully understand and appreciate the book. He describes his rendering as directed to children but not childish and his goal as producing the first satisfying Polish translation. (Stiller, 1990, pp. 16, 18–19). Paradoxically, Stiller’s goals (a translation should read well and make it possible for the reader to both understand and appreciate the target text) appear to be similar to Elżbieta Tabakowska’s, who expressed her views in “Słowo-po-słowie od tłumacza” (Tabakowska, 2012, pp. 115–117), that is “The translator’s word-afterword”, that accompanies her translation. However, her approach is guided by different assumptions. First of all, it is governed by the rule of ambivalent reception (“zasada ambiwalentnego odbioru”). The rule requires taking into account different generations of readers as well as both children and adults. The result is a modern translation (“from the point of view of a modern reader”) though with limits imposed by the original (Alice is a little girl like all small girls today, yet she also remains slightly old-fashioned – both for English and Polish readers, though). The translators’ comments on their own work as well as the work of others partly contribute to the reconstruction of the linguistic worldviews contained in their texts. What their views reveal is the different realities in which their work appeared, spanning almost a century, not to mention the fact that the first Polish translation examined in the present study was published about 70 years after the original. Thus, obviously, the differences in worldviews stem from the differences in the worlds, or realities, which the examples below testify to.

3.2╇ The linguistic worldview in the source and target text samples The exemplification and examination of the different linguistic worldviews, performed in this section, is based upon one passage selected in Chapter III entitled “A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale”. In this chapter, Alice, the Mouse, the Lory, the Dodo, the Eaglet and other animals need to get dry after swimming in 70

the pool of tears and the method suggested by the Dodo during their discussion is a “caucus-race”. The text of the original comes from Robert Stiller’s bilingual edition. ‘In that case,’ said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, ‘I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies–’ â•… ‘Speak English!’ said the Eaglet. ‘I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!’ And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly. â•… ‘What I was going to say,’ said the Dodo in an offended tone, ‘was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.’ (Carroll, 1990, pp. 64, 66)

In this scene, the Dodo’s behaviour is extremely formal and so is its language in the first utterance, when the Dodo proposes a solution to the problem of everybody being wet. The formal character of the style is visible not only in the vocabulary but also in the use of the subjunctive mood. In the second utterance, the Dodo changes its style when criticised and laughed at for using long words which are hard to understand. However, the caucus-race that it proposes corresponds to its previous, formal style. According to Longman Dictionary of English Language and Culture, ‘caucus’ is “(a meeting of) a group of people in a political party, who come together to decide on political plans or to choose people who will represent the party in an election”; among the Polish equivalents are: klika, frakcja, zebranie, komitet (konwent) wyborczy. The website en.wictionary.com explains the phrase “caucus race” as a kind of political competition (however, the examples quoted there are not very old and the etymological explanation indicates Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland as the oldest source). All these elements combine to create the linguistic view of the Dodo as a kind of politician. In his bilingual edition, Robert Stiller provided this passage with two footnotes, containing linguistic explanations. In footnote 26 (Stiller, 1990, pp. 64–65), concerning the Eaglet’s statement, he points out that the Dodo’s words are indeed too long and thus sound artificial “for the English ear”. In footnote 27 (p. 66) he comments on the word “caucus-race”, stating that it is not certain what it could mean: perhaps the chaotic efforts made by political parties before elections, and perhaps it is a distortion of the rare English word “carousel”. Maria Morawska’s translation: – Masz rację – zagęgał Gąsior. – Odłóżmy zatem dalszy ciąg tego ciekawego opowiadania na później, a obecnie zastosujmy bardziej skuteczny środek. – Coś zawile mówicie, połowy z tego nie rozumiem – zauważyło Orlątko. – Mądrych słów używacie, ja jednak nie wierzę, abyście się umieli zdobyć na jakiś energiczny czyn.

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Orlątko skończyło i przechyliło głowę na bok, aby ukryć śmiech. Widać wiele stworzeń było tego samego zdania, gdyż głośny śmiech rozległ się z różnych stron. Obrażony Gąsior tłumaczył poirytowanym głosem: – Mówię wyraźnie. Za najlepszy środek na osuszenie uważam wyścigi o pierwszeństwo. (Carroll, 2009, p. 29)

Morawska made the style of Dodo (translated as Gąsior) slightly more colloquial (at least at the beginning of the passage) and used an explanatory phrase: wyścigi o pierwszeństwo in place of the original term “caucus race”. The formal style is kept in the Eagle (Orlątko), who addresses the Dodo using the plural verb form that, among others, used to signal politeness and respect in Polish – by which it is a witness to the time when the translation was rendered and, consequently, an element of a specific linguistic worldview. Interestingly, the bird species: Dodo is translated entirely incorrectly as Gąsior - did the translator assume that the reader would not be familiar with it? And why would it matter in a book so full of anomalies as Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland? Antoni Marianowicz’s translation: – Wobec tego zgłaszam rezolucję – rzekł powstając Gołąb – aby zebranie zostało odroczone ze względu na konieczność natychmiastowego zastosowania energiczniejszych środków… – Mów pan po ludzku! – przerwał Orzełek. – Nie rozumiem nawet połowy z tych słów i obawiam się, że pan sam ich nie rozumie. – Tu Orzełek odwrócił się dyskretnie, aby skryć swój uśmiech. Niektóre gorzej wychowane ptaki zaczęły głośno chichotać. – Chciałem tylko powiedzieć – rzekł Gołąb obrażony – że najlepiej osuszyłyby nas wyścigi ptasie. (Carroll, 1969, p. 40)

Marianowicz’s Dodo (that became Gołąb in Polish) is as formal as in the original. The Eaglet’s politeness is expressed in Polish as the third person singular accompanied by the polite form pan: “pan sam ich nie rozumie”. The Eaglet’s first sentence is in the imperative, which, combined with the form of address pan produces an effect of irritation or contempt. “Caucus-race” is translated as wyścigi ptasie (literally: “a birds’ race”), by which any association with political activity is entirely lost in favour of a direct reference to the participants, many of whom were birds, and the linguistic worldview became less rich. The species name, Dodo, was rendered as Gołąb, which was - at least from the biological point of view - closer to the original than in Morawska because the dodo belongs to the family of pigeons. Maciej Słomczyński’s translation: –  W takim wypadku – powiedział Dodo powstając z godnością – wnoszę o odroczenie zebrania dla natychmiastowego podjęcia bardziej energicznych środków zapobiegawczych,

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– Mów pan po angielsku! – powiedziało Orlątko. – Nie znam znaczenia nawet połowy tych długich słów, a co więcej, nie wierzę, żebyś ty je znał! – I Orlątko pochyliło głowę, żeby ukryć uśmiech: niektóre inne ptaki zachichotały półgłosem. – Mówiąc to, miałem na myśli – powiedział Dodo urażonym tonem – że najlepszą rzeczą, aby nas osuszyć, byłby Wyścig Kumotrów. (Carroll, 1990, p. 29)

Słomczyński is the first to have preserved the original name of the Dodo; his Dodo is also as formal as in the source text. Słomczyński’s Eaglet is much more straightforward towards the Dodo as it uses the second person singular in its familiar form ty; and actually uses the very pronoun ty (which is not obligatory in Polish) to stress its attitude. Wyścig Kumotrów has no political connotations; kumoter means “friend” but may sound unfamiliar or odd to the modern reader – that is why Słomczyński’s rendering reveals the linguistic view of a world which sounds obsolete today, thus showing that this translation has aged. Robert Stiller’s translation: „Skoro tak – rzekł Dodo powstając z godnością – to stawiam wniosek o odroczenie zebrania w celu natychmiastowego zastosowania intensywniejszych środków zaradczych…“ â•… „Proszę mówić po ludzku! – zawołało Orlątko. – Nie rozumiem, co znaczy połowa tych długich słów, a w dodatku nie wierzę, abyś ty sam je rozumiał!“ I zaraz pochyliło główkę kryjąc uśmiech. Kilka innych ptaków zachichotało. â•… „Chciałem tylko powiedzieć – rzekł Dodo z urazą – że najlepiej osuszyłoby nas, gdybyśmy urządzili kumoterskie wyścigi.“ (Carroll, 1990, pp. 65, 67)

Since Stiller’s footnotes were useful at the beginning of the present analysis, let us now keep them in mind and comment on the translation itself. The translation does preserve the formal style of the Dodo and the offensive tone of the Eaglet, except the proszę (“please”) said by the Eaglet, which sounds much more neutral than in the source text. The elements that attract attention are the phrases: mówić po ludzku (meaning; “make yourself clear” – thanks to which Stiller avoided the reference to English in his Polish text) and kumoterskie wyścigi, which, although in plural here, follows Słomczyński’s version. Perhaps Stiller was unable to invent an alternative and the fact that he himself admitted in the footnote that the phrase was untranslatable makes this solution uncreative and – at least in this passage - certainly equally old as Słomczyński’s version 20 years before. Krzysztof Dworak’s translation: – W danych okolicznościach – uroczyście oznajmił Dodo, wstając – niniejszym odraczam zebranie dla natychmiastowego podjęcia środków bardziej energicznych… – Mów po ludzku – powiedziało Orlątko. – Nie rozumiem połowy z tych słów, nie wierzę nawet, że ty je rozumiesz! – Po czym pochyliło głowę, by ukryć uśmiech; niektóre ptaki głośno zachichotały.

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– Chciałem powiedzieć – rzekł Dodo urażony – że aby wyschnąć, najlepiej będzie urządzić Gonitwę za Stanowiskami. (Carroll, 2010, p. 37)

By using the phrase W danych okolicznościach and the word niniejszym, Dworak’s rendering makes an allusion to the modern political and legal discourse; his solution: Gonitwa za Stanowiskami, with its negative connotations, further emphasises. Such systematic attention to the style creates a coherent and complete linguistic view of the negative side of the world of politics. Elżbieta Tabakowska’s translation: – Wobec tego – ogłosił uroczyście Dodo, podnosząc się na nogi – stawiam wniosek, aby zgromadzenie zakończyło sesję i bezzwłocznie przeszło do poczynienia bardziej radykalnych kroków… – Proszę mówić po angielsku! – zaprotestowało Orlątko. – Nie rozumiem połowy tych długich słów, a co więcej, myślę, że pan ich też nie rozumie! Tu Orlątko pochyliło łebek, starając się ukryć uśmiech; niektóre inne ptaki zaczęły już całkiem głośno chichotać. – Chciałem tylko powiedzieć – oświadczył Dodo obrażonym tonem – że najlepszym, co mogłoby nas osuszyć, byłby maraton przedwyborczy. (Carroll, 2012, p. 24)

This last and most recent translation does not differ from Dworak’s in the Dodo’s first statement. What makes it different is the Eaglet’s formal style – as opposed to Dworak’s rendering, where the Eaglet is very straightforward, Tabakowska preserves the polite forms of address: proszę, pan and the third person singular in pan ich też nie rozumie. Tabakowska’s choice of maraton przedwyborczy makes use of a slogan that is common in today’s political and journalist jargon, immediately associated with news that appear in the newspapers and on TV before every election. The formal style of both interlocutors, the Dodo and the Eaglet, adds to the association of this scene with the official aspect of modern political debate, creating a linguistic worldview that is also complete and coherent but very different from Dworak’s.

4.╇Conclusions As Bartmiński (2009, p. 219) points out, the linguistic worldview – when investigated in comparative research - embraces “the expression of collective identity – who are ‘we’ (self-stereotypes); […] [and] the conceptualisation of the communal time in which we live […]”. Assuming this perspective, comparative analysis of the linguistic worldviews literary texts will show possible differences in that “collective identity” and “communal time”. In this light, the above analysis of the selected Polish translations of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland allows for the following conclusions and implications for translation criticism: 74

Taking into account the linguistic worldview, a translation is – metaphorically like “kumoterski wyścig” or “maraton przedwyborczy”. Firstly, the concept of linguistic worldview helps the translation studies scholar to grasp the differences between different translations of a text as expressions of their time, conceptualisations of the reality in which they came into being, which allows for appreciating their value. Secondly, the concept of linguistic worldview helps the translator to make a conscious choice on the level of translation strategy, that is specify for whom he/she translates and which reality is his/her translation going to “portray” (from which particular decisions of detail will follow in the course of translating). Thirdly, the concept of linguistic worldview may be useful in translation criticism and assessment (at least as far as translator training and translation practice are concerned), especially with regard to literary texts.

References Bartmiński, J. (2009). Aspects of Cognitive Ethnolinguistics. Sheffield, Oakville: Equinox. Caucus. In Longman Dictionary of English Language and Culture. Caucus race. (n.d.) Retrieved from http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/caucus_race Carroll, L. (1990). Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów. (R. Stiller, Trans.). Warszawa: Lettrex. Carroll, L. (1969). Alicja w Krainie Czarów. (A. Marianowicz, Trans.). Warszawa: Nasza Księgarnia. Carroll, L. (2009). Alicja w Krainie Czarów. (M. Morawska, Trans.). Wrocław: Siedmioróg. Carroll, L. (2010). Alicja w Krainie Czarów. (K. Dworak, Trans.). Warszawa: Buchmann. Carroll, L. (2012). Alicja w Krainie Czarów. (E. Tabakowska, Trans.). Kraków: Wydawnictwo Bona. Carroll, L. (1990). Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów. O tym, co Alicja odkryła po drugiej stronie lustra (3rd ed.) (M. Słomczyński, Trans.). Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Dolnośląskie. Gicala, A. (2013). Conceptual disintegration as a linguistic worldview in Wisława Szymborska’ poem “Identyfikacja” and its translation by Clare Cavanagh. In A. Głaz, D. S. Danaher, P. Łozowski (Eds.). The Linguistic Worldview: Ethnolinguistics, Culture, and Cognition (pp. 61–75). London: Versita. 75

Głaz, A., Danaher, S., Łozowski, P. (2013). Introduction. In A. Głaz, D. S. Danaher, P. Łozowski (Eds.). The Linguistic Worldview: Ethnolinguistics, Culture, and Cognition (pp. 11–24). London: Versita. Pajdzińska, A. (2013). The Linguistic Worldview and Literature. In A. Głaz, D. S. Danaher, P. Łozowski (Eds.). The Linguistic Worldview: Ethnolinguistics, Culture, and Cognition (pp. 41–59). London: Versita. Pieciul-Karmińska, E. (2007). Językowy obraz Boga i świata. O przekładzie teologii niemieckiej na język polski. Poznań: Wydawnictwo Poznańskie. Stiller, R. (1990). Wielebny w Krainie Czarów. In Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Przygody Alicji w Krainie Czarów (pp. 5–19). (R. Stiller, Trans.). Warszawa: Lettrex. Tabakowska, E. (2013). Słowo-po-słowie od tłumacza. In Carroll, L. (2012). Alicja w Krainie Czarów (pp. 115–117). (E. Tabakowska, Trans.). Kraków: Wydawnictwo Bona.

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Adam Głaz Maria Curie-Skłodowska University, Lublin, Poland

When -ities collide. Virtuality, actuality, reality1 Abstract Ronald Langacker’s model of virtuality vs. actuality vs. reality requires a critical approach. Light can be shed on the problem through consideration of science fiction, understood as a language-generated derivative world. The areas subject to further elaboration include (i) the relationship between virtuality and what Langacker calls elaborated reality, (ii) the relationship between basic, immediate and elaborated reality (Langacker’s terms), (iii) the status of reality vis-à-vis actuality and (iv) the (actual or virtual) status of Langacker’s instance plane. It is claimed that benefits are potentially reciprocal: an understanding of science fiction is also enriched through an application of the Cognitive Grammar model for its analysis. Keywords virtuality; actuality; reality; Cognitive Grammar; science fiction

1.╇ The problem In one of the Peanuts cartoons, Sally Brown announces Snoopy’s appearance at the door with “There’s a dog here who wants to come in”, to which the latter responds with the typical amour propre: “Not ‘a’ dog… ‘The’ dog”. The exchange well illustrates the problem I will be discussing: where do linguistic expressions take us, into the realm of reality, actuality or virtuality? In Langacker’s (1999, 2005, 2009) understanding, both a dog and the dog here are references to actual instances of dog. But are they references to reality? Risking Snoopy’s justified outrage, most of us would say “no”. However, the answer need not be so unequivocal, as I will argue in a later part of the chapter, illustrating these claims with two examples from a science fiction novel. First, however, I will discuss Langacker’s Cognitive Grammar approach to virtuality, actuality and reality. 1 Proofread by Bill Sullivan.

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2.╇ Langacker on virtuality vs. actuality Figure 1 is a pseudo-3D rendering of Langacker’s rather well-known diagram: Figure 1: Langacker’s model of virtuality-vs.-actuality-vs.-reality (based on Langacker, 1999, p. 43, Fig. 1)

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His model is relatively straightforward: within a given world there are two major planes: virtual plane and actual plane. Actual plane embraces reality, that is, “[f]or a given conceptualizer … the accepted history of what has happened up to the present”, or of what has been realized (Langacker, 2009, p. 173). Reality evolves through time (t) and G is the ground: the speech event, its participants and circumstances. G is located on the “leading edge” of reality as it grows with the passage of time. Reality is thus a facet of actuality, its other facets embracing modal statements, references to the future, descriptions of events that did not happen, etc. – these may all be references to actual events or entities but, not having been realized, they are not parts of reality. Crucially, speakers frequently depart from actuality to virtuality, even when they are concerned with actual entities or events. Langacker (cf. 1999, 2005, 2009) lists several metonymic mechanisms of this kind: • metaphor and blending, e.g. She demolished my theory (the metaphor THEORIES ARE BUILDINGS): although a specific, actual theory is meant, the act of demolishing is virtual; • virtual/fictive motion, e.g. The path leads into the forest; this is an aspect of a more general phenomenon of • virtual change, e.g. His newspaper column grew longer each week; • virtual/fictive viewing arrangement, e.g. There was a house every now and then through the valley: the scene is portrayed as experienced by a train passenger, whose landscape changed as he or she travelled; • references to virtual events, such as virtual schedules, e.g. Our plane leaves at noon; • virtual speech acts, such as irony, e.g. That was a brilliant move! when the speaker means the opposite; 78

• the use of quantifiers, e.g. The three boys lifted a chair: by default the reference is to three boys lifting one chair each; • reference to units of measurement, e.g. three barrels of oil: what is meant is the amount, not actual barrels; • singular impersonal you, e.g. You should never underestimate yourself; • references to virtual boundaries (region, place, area, location, centre, middle, proximity) or to norms, ideals or expectations (dirty involves a virtual change from a virtual entity that is clean). These are only some instances of the actuality-to-virtuality mental transfer – the phenomenon is ubiquitous. However, despite the simplicity of the model in Figure 1, Langacker distinguishes not two but several planes, conceived of in terms of four oppositions between virtuality and actuality: 1. Type plane vs. instance plane, where type is a kind of virtual entity (actress), an abstracted commonality of its instances (an actress, actresses) – but see below for a qualification of this position. 2. Structural plane (how the world generally “works”) vs. actual plane (what actually happens). For example, a singular generic A cat plays with a mouse it has caught profiles a virtual event, general and stable aspects of the world’s structure (a random cat’s behaviour), not any specific cat, mouse or acts of catching and playing. Thus, structural plane arises through the process of generalization. 3. Generalization plane vs. actual plane, as in Three times during a class, students asked an intelligent question. Generalization plane is abstracted away from actuality as generalization over several occurrences aligned sequentially along the time’s arrow within a certain span of time (during a class). In fact, Langacker notes (2005, p. 67), type plane, generalization plane and structural plane all derive from generalizations, each of a different sort. 4. Hypothetical plane vs. actual plane, as in conditionals: If drinking beer enhances endurance, Zelda can run a marathon. Both the condition and the matrix event are located within hypothetical plane.2 This is an orderly framework but already at this stage it requires modification in the first of the four oppositions (type vs. instance plane). It is not clear why Langacker omits to clearly acknowledge the need for the modification, even though he provides the relevant data. A type, activated by a bare lexical noun 2 One could perhaps argue, a point for further discussion, that the sentence touches upon actuality in its reference to Zelda’s drinking habits, more than anything else.

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(actress) is always virtual, but an instance may or may not be actual. John met an actress is located in actual plane but John wants to meet an actress evokes a virtual instance in John’s desire space. Therefore, instance plane can be subsumed under either virtual plane or actual plane; cf. Figure 2. Figure 2: Langacker’s instance plane: actual or virtual dLJƉĞ WůĂŶĞ

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3.╇ Langacker on reality Further elaboration is in order, for Langacker distinguishes three kinds of reality: • basic or conceived reality: this is what the conceptualizer accepts as having happened up through the present moment; • immediate reality: that portion of basic reality which results from immediate experience, i.e. the latest phase in the ongoing process of experiencing; • elaborated reality, which reflects our capacity to imagine objects and occurrences and to contemplate their epistemic status; e.g. occurrences can be imagined as future, possible, as not accepted though possible (in negation), etc. But what within this framework is the status of myths, legends, tales, biblical accounts and belles-lettres, a problem that Langacker invokes himself (Langacker, 1999)? Let us consider his own examples: (1) Adam ate an apple. (2) Eve eventually exited Eden. These are references to actual, though mythical3 events. In contrast to those, (3) Serpents seldom seem sincere. is said to involve virtual, generic reference, a generalization over specific instances, a statement on what the world is like. It is located in structural plane. But this generic statement seems to have been inspired, however indirectly, by the biblical serpent, and so all three examples occupy the same “myth world” of the biblical story of the original sin, the first two being actual, the third one virtual. Several problems arise at this juncture. Langacker is talking here about actuality and not reality, because it is an imagined, derivative world of a “myth”, as opposed to the “real world”. One thus concludes that reality as a sub-plane of actuality does not figure in derivative worlds and the opposition obtaining there is that between virtual and actual planes. However, after a moment’s reflection, one is not sure why reality should not constitute part of the “myth” world. Recall that we need to consider at least three kinds of reality: basic, immediate and

3 The term mythical seems to be particularly inappropriate: biblical accounts as better thought of as allegories or parables. This, however, is a separate question and I will continue to use the term myth in the technical sense ‘something beyond that which constitutes direct experience’.

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elaborated. Does not elaborated reality (capacity to imagine) play a role here? Where exactly does imagination take us: to a derivative world or to its subportions, i.e. either to elaborated reality or to virtuality? Is the capacity to imagine different from the ability to generalize types and structures form instances or to form hypothetical mental spaces, which are processes that take us to virtuality? Does imagine mean ‘fantasize’ or does it mean ‘evoke in the mind from what one has heard or experienced’? Finally, how does elaborated reality relate to virtuality? In Langacker’s example Jill needs a pencil (2009, p. 120), a pencil is said to be a virtual element in elaborated reality – the two clearly seem to overlap. Does this mean that elaborated reality is a subspace not of actuality but of virtuality (Figure 4)? Figure 4: The possible triple effect of imagination in Langacker’s model dŚĞĞƌŝǀĂƟǀĞ͞DLJƚŚ͟;͍ͿtŽƌůĚ

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Furthermore, what happens if we extend the question and inquire on our capacity not only to imagine but also to believe? If a myth is believed in (as, for example, biblical accounts are), then it very much constitutes, in Langacker’s own words, “a history of what has happened” “for a particular conceptualizer” (Langacker, 2009, p. 173) – and this is basic reality! Also, actual events are treated as those that have a potential of being included in reality, though they are not portrayed as real. But if the potential exists within the derivative “myth” world, then reality (as a potential at least) should also be found there. Finally, what kind of world can be called “derivative”? What may be the source for the derivation and how is that world derived? All these questions require a profound and systematic analysis; I will address them now in a rather schematic fashion in the context of science fiction. 82

4.╇ The derivative world of science fiction The commonplace view is that science fiction and fantasy deal with worlds whose nature in some way departs from the reality accessible to human experience. Andrzej Zgorzelski (2005), however, forcefully argues that the view is fundamentally flawed, because on this account science fiction is not distinctly different from any other fiction. Instead, in science fiction there is a transformation of the ethnic language into an artistic idiolect or instrument, a super-code superimposed on the ethnic language for the sake of one specific text. The reader learns both the code and the novel world as he or she proceeds: the fantastic can only be considered within the autonomous structure of the fictional world itself because “the text alone can reveal what is normal, regular, possible and real in the world being described. It is only through … the super-code that we obtain access to the laws of the world inhabited by the protagonists” (Zgorzelski, 2005, p. 593; translation mine, A.G.).4 We will assume, then, that a science fiction text qua derivative world in Langacker’s sense is derived linguistically. Let us now consider two examples of this from China Miéville’s novel Embassytown (2011). In its world, located on the very outskirts of the universe known to humans, human children are raised by “shiftparents”, who take turns – or shifts – taking care of the young ones. This is what motivates the use of the dad in example (4): (4) I told the story more than once, describing the man we had followed carefully and confusedly, asking the dad about him. (Miéville, 2011, p. 11) The dad refers to the man who happens to be on duty that night; the expression is an element of the super-code that introduces the reader to the textual world of Embassytown. It is a definite nominal and an instance in actuality.5 Does it 4 A similar view had been expressed by Mark Angenot (1979, no page numbers): “The SF reader … induces from the particular some imagined, general rules that prolong the author’s fantasies and confer on them plausibility”. Importantly, the reader must trust the narrator, who in turn “does not lead the reader to a semantic dead end as [Lewis] Carroll does: he leads the reader to believe in the possibility of reconstituting consistent paradigms - whose semantic structures are supposedly homologous to those in the fictive textual ‘world.’” 5 In Langacker’s model, definite nominals are generally taken as being “sufficient to single out the intended referent independently of the clause containing it” (Langacker, 2009, p. 93). However, not all definites are actual; the ones that are virtual involve generics, roles, idealized cognitive models, negation of existence (e.g. The kitten was born deformed – its ears are missing) etc. But actuality is the default and it in fact does obtain in the case at hand.

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also belong to reality and if so, to what kind of reality? This calls for a distinction between the world of the author/reader and the derivative world of the novel. The dad can be located within the actual plane of the derivative world, but also, probably, within its basic and immediate reality: it belongs to what has happened up through the present moment for the characters in the novel (basic reality), as well as to the latest phase of the conceptualizers’ experience within the sf world (immediate reality). Elaborated reality also enters the stage, emerging through our capacity to imagine objects and occurrences. Let us recall, however, that we have already imagined the derivative world, so do we also need to imagine an elaborated reality within it as a portion of virtual plane, and then claim that the dad is located there as a virtual instance (cf. Figure 5)? This remains unclear and calls for a greater degree of precision in constructing the whole model. Figure 5: Embassytown’s the dad in Langacker’s (modified) model dŚĞĚĞƌŝǀĂƟǀĞ͞ŵLJƚŚ͟ǁŽƌůĚŽĨŵďĂƐƐLJƚŽǁŶ

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With these doubts in mind we approach the next example. In the world of Embassytown, an alien race called the Ariekei use a language that is produced by two openings in their bodies, each uttering a distinct string of sounds – but 84

the utterances are perfectly coordinated in a unique manner. Therefore, communication with the Ariekei is achieved with the help of double-bodied but single-minded “doppels” called “Ambassadors”; hence an Ambassador can say: (5) “We’re an Ambassador … and we have a job to do.” (Miéville, 2012, pp. 88–89) In contrast to the dad, in (5) there is an indefinite nominal, an Ambassador, correlated – surprisingly – with the plural we. The grammatical mismatch is, analogously with the dad, an element of the super-code that introduces the reader to the derivative world of the novel. But it is a more complex case than the dad because indefinites, in Langacker’s model, have a kind of intrinsic virtuality in them and can be rendered actual only through clause content (2009, p. 95). This indeed happens to be the case: have produces the actualizing effect on a job to do and are produces the same effect on an Ambassador. But the grammatical mismatch certainly requires that we imagine the unusual situation of a doubleyet-single Ambassador – we thus gravitate towards a virtual instance in elaborated reality. Possibly, we might be dealing here with virtual-cum-actual plane in a single usage (Figure 6). Figure 6: Embassytown’s an Ambassador in Langacker’s (modified) model dŚĞĚĞƌŝǀĂƟǀĞ͞ŵLJƚŚ͟ǁŽƌůĚŽĨŵďĂƐƐLJƚŽǁŶ

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In other words, imagination has a dual effect: (i) it takes us to the derivate world of the novel, and (ii) once there, it leads us, if only to an extent, to entertain a virtual instance within elaborated reality.

5.╇ Conclusions and questions A schematic analysis of just two examples against a rather cursory discussion of the relevant framework must leave the reader baffled with little chance for reliable conclusions. I believe, however, that we may at least identify the areas that need to be addressed in more profound research. The most important ones with regard to Langacker’s model concern: ╇ (i) the relationship between virtuality and elaborated reality: do they overlap in any sense as products of the workings of imagination? (ii) the relationship between the various kinds of reality – basic, immediate and elaborated – especially with regard to the latter’s apparently virtual status; (iii) the status of (basic and immediate) reality vis-à-vis actuality; and (iv) the status of a double-nature instance plane: actual and virtual. Considerations of the last point may lead to the (now still tentative) conclusion that actual and virtual planes can more appropriately be viewed not as separate but as interwoven and interacting. Certainly, the above considerations may also contribute to a fuller understanding of science-fiction or perhaps any fiction. Especially promising but also challenging in this respect is the complex and multipronged notion of reality. Should we agree that (science)-fiction entails reality, if only of the elaborated kind, then Snoopy the dog can sleep with his peace of mind undisturbed.

References Angenot, M. (1979). The absent paradigm: An introduction to the semiotics of science fiction. Science Fiction Studies, 17 (6–1), Retrieved August 17, 2013, from http://www.depauw.edu/sfs/backissues/17/angenot17.htm Langacker, R. W. (1999). Virtual reality. In Shin Ja Hwang and Arle Lommel (Eds.), LACUS Forum XXV (pp. 41–69). Fullerton, CA: LACUS. [Reprinted in Studies in the Linguistic Sciences 29–2, 77–103.] Langacker, R. W. (2005). Two problems virtually resolved. In D. Stanulewicz, R. Kalisz, W. Kürschner & C. Klaus (Eds.), De lingua et litteris. Studia in honorem Casimiri Andreae Sroka (pp. 65–70). Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego. 86

Langacker, R. W. (2009). Investigations in Cognitive Grammar. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Miéville, C. (2011). Embassytown. New York: Del Rey Books. Zgorzelski, A. (2005). Co to jest fantastyka? In Danuta Stanulewicz, Roman Kalisz, Wilfried Kürschner and Cäcilia Klaus (Eds.), De lingua et litteris. Studia in honorem Casimiri Andreae Sroka (pp. 592–597). Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego.

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Anna Kędra-Kardela Maria Curie-Skłodowska University, Lublin, Poland

Iconicity and the literary text: A cognitive analysis1 Abstract The paper reformulates the iconization process, which is held to involve the reader’s text reading strategy (cf. Johansen, 1996, 2003), in terms of R. W. Langacker’s (1999) theory of subjectification. Drawing on the Peircean distinction between imaginal iconicity and diagrammatic iconicity, we claim that the reader, while interpreting a literary work, uncovers the relations underlying the text’s structure, of which the iconic relations are a vital part. The paper focuses on the text’s iconic relations of quantity, proximity, sequential order and discusses the “iconization” strategies used by the reader, including path following, sorting, and “kaleidoscope strategy” in the sense of Ungerer (2005). By making an attempt to uncover the complex iconic relations in a literary text, and thus by “subjectifying” it, the reader arrives at the text’s possible interpretations. Keywords a linguistic sign; imaginal iconicity; diagrammatic iconicity; iconization; subjectification

1.╇Introduction Based on the concept of the iconic sign in the sense of Peirce and defined as a “similarity between conceived reality and language structure” (Radden & Dirven, 2007, p. 53), iconicity in language has always received a great deal of attention from scholars working within the general framework of cognitive linguistics. Recently, however, research on iconicity became an important area of study in the field of cognitive poetics (see, for example, Freeman 2007; Alderson, 1999; Johansen, 1996, 2003). And not unexpectedly so: assuming, as cognitivists do, that there is a close relationship between form and meaning, which can be expressed by the formula: “more of form is more of content” (Lakoff & Johnson, 1980, p. 127), literary texts, which are in fact, “extended” Saussurean

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signs, involving the signifier-signified relation (though see below), should be of direct interest to those who are involved in cognitive analysis. Indeed, one can cite numerous examples of “visual literature,” where the iconic relations between the form of the text and its meaning (interpretation) are particularly conspicuous. In this paper, we would like to go still further and propose a conception of iconicity which includes not only the visual, but also relational aspects of iconicity which are based on cognitive (or mental) proximity of elements obtaining in the text. In particular, we propose to account for both “visual” as well as “textual iconicity” in terms of Ronald W. Langacker’s notion of subjectification, one of the elements of imagery, defined by him as “our … mental ability to ‘structure’ or ‘construe’ a conceived situation in many alternate ways.” (Langacker, 1988, p. 63; also Langacker, 1990, 1999). Pertinent to our analysis of textual iconicity is Peirce’s division of the linguistic sign into three types: indices, that is, signs based on the relation of contiguity between the sign and its object, symbols, i.e. signs based on convention, and icons that are signs which show some important features or properties of the object they represent (i.e. some similarity can be perceived between form and meaning). The category of the iconic sign has been further divided into images, diagrams and metaphors (Nöth, 1990, p. 122). While images share features and qualities with the objects they represent, and while imaginal iconicity is held to be based on the perceptible similarity between the sign and the object it represents, diagrams, Johansen (1996) notes, “do not have qualities in common with the object; instead, they exhibit the relations between parts of an object or between objects in sets” (p. 40). In other words, “the similarity between the sign and its object is only a structural or relational one” (Nöth, 2001, p. 21). And it is precisely the diagrammatic (or relational) similarity obtaining in the literary text that we shall explore in greater detail here. Pending further discussion, let us note though that diagrammatic iconicity involves three principles reflected in text strategies: the principles of “iconic sequencing, iconic proximity and the iconic quantity” (quantitative iconicity) (cf. Ungerer & Schmid, 1997, p. 251). Commenting on diagrammatic iconicity, Ungerer (2005) stresses its experiential aspect, noting that “wherever a text strategy can be iconically derived from a complex cognitive pattern, the transfer is experienced holistically, as a gestalt, by the ordinary recipient and not as an accumulation of specific correspondences” (p. 233). According to him, there are three basic experience-related strategies involved in the case of diagrammatic iconicity: the path strategy, the sorting strategy and the kaleidoscope strategy. These three strategies, we would like to claim now, underlie the reading process. We thus sympathize with Johansen (2003), who argues that during the reading process, the reader 90

“iconicizes” the text by uncovering the complex iconic relations holding in it. Johansen (2003, p. 385) writes: Since, according to Peircean semiotics there are three types of iconic signs—images, diagrams, and metaphors-, there should also be three ways to iconize the text during reading.… The three ways are, first, identification and recognition of the elements or parts represented in the text, i.e., imaginative iconization or imaginization, linked with the production of mental images triggered by the literary text; second, the structuring of what is represented as a network of relationships, i.e., diagrammatic structuration; and third, the relating of elements and relationships of the universe represented in the text to other conceptual structures, i.e., allegorization.

In this paper an attempt will be made to reformulate the process of iconization of a literary work in terms of the previously mentioned subjectification theory as envisioned in Langacker (1999). In so doing I will discuss imaginal (imaginative) iconization (or imaginization) and dwell, at greater length, on diagrammatic iconization, leaving the strategy of allegorization aside at this time. The principal claim I make here is that the degree of subjectification is greater in the case of diagrammatic iconization whereas it is considerably smaller in the case of imaginal iconization.

2.╇ Ronald W. Langacker’s subjectification theory In his model of cognitive grammar, Langacker introduces the concept of subjectification which is used to account for a human cognitive mechanism called by him “the subjective construal of the scene.” In Langacker’s theory, subjectification is connected to perspective (c.f. Evans & Green, 2006, p. 728): the so-called “scene” can be either objectively or subjectively construed by the language user. In the case of objective construal (or Objective Viewing Arrangement – OVA) the speaker is aware of conceptual elements, which he/she encodes in the linguistic form. Alternatively, the scene is subjectively construed (Egocentric Viewing Arrangement – EVA) when the conceptual elements are not expressed overtly. The difference between these two types of construal can be illustrated by the following sentences: a. The balloon rose 200 metres above the ground. b. The tower rises 50 metres above the forest foliage. Sentence (a), which illustrates the OVA relation, describes the actual physical movement of the balloon. Sentence (b) does not depict any movement in physical terms; what moves here is not the tower, but the conceptualizer who is scanning with his/her eyes the walls of the tower “rising” up. 91

The process of subjectification can be described in the following way: the OVA relation between the conceptualizer and the object of his/her conceptualization is replaced, via so-called attenuation, by the EVA relation. Diagrammatically, the whole process can be presented as follows: Figure 1: Subjectification (Langacker 1999, p. 298; adapted; cf. Evans & Green 2006, p. 728) $ ,QLWLDO&RQILJXUDWLRQ % $WWHQXDWLRQ REMHFWLYHFRQVWUXDO

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The three diagrams in Fig. 1. differ in that the arrow linking the trajector (tr) and the landmark (lm) in A is drawn in bold; it is broken in B; and is absent in diagram C. The arrow represents the profiling of the relationship between tr and lm. In A the relation is objectively construed (configuration OVA). The bold arrow stands for the objective relation holding between the trajector (which can be an agent, experiencer or mover) and the landmark, which can be another entity such as patient or location. The arrow symbolized by T represents processing time. C stands for the conceptualizer, who is off-stage and who mentally scans the relation between the trajector and the landmark. Broken arrows symbolize the conceptualizer’s mental processes which unfold in the processing time. In B the broken heavy arrow symbolises the attenuation of the OVA relation. The conceptualizer is still performing the mental scanning, but the relation between the trajector and the landmark is motivated to a lesser degree here: owing to the conceptualizer’s “intervention” into the scene, the relation is being gradually subjectified. The objectively existing motivation between the trajector and the landmark disappears in C, in which the trajector and the landmark are linked by the subjective relation, established now only by the conceptualizer’s mental operations: “the relationship holds only within the conceptualiser’s construal” (Evans & Greene, 2006, p. 729). Consider now the following examples (Langacker, 1999, p. 301): 92

a. The child hurried across the busy street. b. The child is safely across the street. c. Last night there was a fire across the street. The (a) sentence exemplifies the configuration shown in A; here an objective relation holds between the child (trajector-mover) and the street (landmarklocation). B corresponds to the (b) example, in which the (static) location of the child is a result of the prior movement of the trajector (hence the broken arrow in diagram B). Finally, in C, there is no physical movement; the relation between the trajector (a fire) and the landmark (the street) is construed subjectively by the conceptualizer. This is exemplified by sentence (c).

3.╇ Imaginal iconicity in poetry and prose Iconization (and thus subjectification) is a gradable process: the degree of subjectification is smaller in the case of imaginal iconization, as represented by pattern poetry, where “the mental image is evoked by the literary text” to a greater extent than in the case of a “regular” text. The link between the shape of the poem and its content is immediately visible. In this sense, then, imaginal iconicity can be considered a case of objective viewing arrangement (OVA), where the relation between the content/meaning of the poem corresponds directly to its shape.2 For example, in George Herbert’s poems from The Temple: “Easter wings” and “The Altar,” the shapes of the poems relate directly to the subject matter they dwell on. In “Easter wings” it is not only the visual image evoked by the poem that iconically enhances the poem’s meaning, but also the varying length of lines, which gives the impression of expanding and shrinking, thus mimicking the movement of the wings. Herbert’s original idea was to have “Easter wings” printed on two neighbouring pages, so that the closing and opening of the book of poetry would give a more “palpable” impression of the movement of the wings, reflecting the fall and rebirth of man (cf. Rypson, 1989, p. 187). This arrangement of the text on the page contributed greatly to its iconic quality:

2 In fact, any visual poem will combine features of imaginal and diagrammatic iconicity: the iconic relations in the syntactic structure of the poem, independent of its visual quality, may be discovered by the reader. In such cases imaginal iconicity of a visual poem may be supplemented by diagrammatic iconicity, potentially contributing to the poem’s message.

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Figure 2: “Easter wings” by George Herbert in the 1633 edition3

Another poem by Herbert, “The Collar,” which stands in contrast to the two previously mentioned above, does not evoke its content by means of the shape, nor does it refer directly to the circular shape of the collar. However, it is also iconic in its quality, albeit to a lesser degree, as a poem dealing with the theme of rebellion, expressing the speaker’s desire and determination to be free, to “get rid” of the collar and all the constraints imposed by the service of God the collar stands for. Says the poet: “My lines and life are free” (l. 4). The poem’s iconicity manifests itself in a rather inconspicuous way: through the irregular shape of the poem and the varying length of the lines. In this case, the reader’s “mental effort” in discovering the iconic relation between the poem’s shape (the signifier) and the poem’s referent (the poem’s content or its interpretation) must be seen to be

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greater in the case of “The Collar” than in the case of the imaginal iconicity of “Easter wings” and “The Altar.” In prose, imaginal iconicity is considerably less common than in poetry. The most conspicuous example, showing a close affinity between the narrative and the book as a material or physical object, can be found in Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy. One finds here numerous typographical experiments: blank pages, black pages, asterisks, gaps in the text, which reflect the digressive quality of the narrative4 and correspond to the narrative’s content. An interesting example of imaginal iconicity, mentioned by Alderson (1999), can be found in Henry Fielding’s novel Tom Jones (1749), where, in Book V, two chapter titles combine features of the chapter’s physical shape with the features of narrative. In particular, the heading of Chapter 4 reads: “A little Chapter, in which is contained a little Incident,” while that of Chapter 5 promises “A very long Chapter, containing a very great Incident” (Alderson, 1999, p. 115). Yet, although we have here a relatively close link between the image (the “shape” of the text) and its meaning, this case of imaginal iconicity, owing to a greater interpretational effort on the part of the reader to uncover the iconic quality of this text, must be seen as involving a greater degree of subjectification than Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, where the material form of the book itself reinforces its verbal message.

4.╇ Diagrammatic iconicity Whereas in the case of imaginal iconicity found in pattern poetry the similarity between the sign and the object it signifies is overt (“images are immediately iconic, representing simple qualities” (Nöth, 1990, p. 123), diagrams represent much more “abstract” cases if iconicity5 in the sense that the relation between the diagram and its object is relatively independent (cf. Johansen, 2003, p. 383). In diagrammatic iconicity, Nöth (2001) observes, “the similarity between the sign and its object is only a structural or relational one” (p. 21; emphasis added).

4 According to Alderson (1999), Sterne uses “iconic techniques in new ways. On the one hand, he represents the world of his story iconically in the text by using pictures and diagrams.… On the other hand, by making the book and its physical spaces the primary object, he manages to make iconicity in reverse: the shapes of the book are realized by objects and events of the narrative” (p. 115). 5 “Diagrams are icons of relations and thus depend on indices and conventions” (Nöth, 1990, p. 123). Johansen (2003) posits “while images have qualities in common with their objects, diagrams have relations in common with theirs” (p. 381; emphasis added).

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There is no direct link between the sign and its referent. In a literary work, the reader, through the process of “text iconization,” may “uncover” the “link” which is not immediately given. Apart from imaginal iconicity, cognitive linguistics distinguishes three basic principles of diagrammatic iconicity, all of which, we claim, can be found in literary texts (Ungerer, 2005; Dirvén & Verspoor, 2004). They are: 1. The principle of quantity, according to which more form is held to involve more meaning, like, for example, in a sentence: Her talk was looooong and boooooring, or, more meaning is expressed in more words, which can be illustrated by He talked and talked and talked, and I thought he was never going to finish. (Dirvén & Verspoor, 2004, p. 11). The iconic principle of quantity is often used for expressing politeness: “being polite is saying a bit more” (Dirven & Verspoor, 2004, p. 11). The accumulation of rhetorical devices may also be interpreted in iconic terms as an implementation of the principle of quantity: “more form, more matter.” (Fisher, 2006, pp. 38–39). This aspect of the principle of quantity is present, for example, in Alexander Pope’s The Rape of the Lock, where in Canto IV Belinda’s despair about the loss of her lock is described in a Homeric simile involving anaphora: each line in the passage quoted below describes the despair, and the overall effect is amplified due to the succession of six lines expressing the same idea in different words and repeating the same syntactic structure. Note also that the anaphoric repetition of the same word at the beginning of several lines in a row seems to involve the iconic principle of quantity: But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress’d, And secret passions labour’d in her breast. Not youthful kings in battle seiz’d alive, Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, Not ardent lovers robb’d of all their bliss, Not ancient ladies when refus’d a kiss, Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die, Not Cynthia when her manteau’s pinn’d awry, E’er felt such rage, resentment, and despair, As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravish’d hair. (Canto IV, ll. 1–10) 2. The principle of proximity or distance states that elements which belong together conceptually tend to stay together syntactically. Thus the sentence His third unfinished book has a different meaning from the sentence His unfinished third book and this difference can be accounted for precisely in iconic 96

terms (Radden & Dirvén, 2007, p. 53). Likewise, the change in the order of sentence constituents can affect the conceptualization, as the following pair of sentences illustrate: With sobs and tears/The boy came seeking comfort and I saw/White blisters beaded on his tender skin. (“Nettles” by Vernon Scannell, ll. 4–6) and The boy came seeking comfort/with sobs and tears/and I saw/White blisters beaded on his tender skin. Clearly, the meaning of the two sentences is slightly different, depending on the syntactic proximity of the elements conceptually related. 3. The principle of sequential order applies to the temporal arrangement of events in the conceived world, which is reflected in the order of clauses as seen in such sayings as Veni, vidi vici; and Eye it, try it, buy it (cf. Radden & Dirvén, 2007, p. 53). This principle finds its most obvious realization in a narrative’s treatment of chronology of events, where chronologically recounted events create a relationship of similarity between the sign and the object it signifies, i.e. between the chronological narrative and the order of events in the fictional world of the narrative. Thus both analepsis, i.e. retrospection or flashback and prolepsis, i.e. flashforward, by upsetting the chronology of the narrative, impair the iconicity of the text. According to Ungerer (2005), the iconic text strategies such as path, weighted and unweighted sorting and kaleidoscope determine the relation between text strategies and action patterns which are involved in our conceptualization of the world. Among prototypical examples of the path strategy Ungerer lists guidebooks (the closed path pattern), cookery books and DIY manuals (the open path pattern). Sorting strategy, in turn, can be found in telephone directories, shopping lists, laundry lists etc. Finally, the kaleidoscope strategy, which relies to a greater extent on an interaction of elements, is more commonly found in the interplay of shapes and colours as perceived in nature and in artistic creation. Textual examples of this kind of conceptualization strategy can be found in poetry e.g. Wordsworth’s poem “Daffodils,” which is commented upon by Ungerer (2005): While the natural scenery suggests the holistic processing of a kaleidoscope pattern of daffodils, waves wind and clouds, this patterns is from the very first line of the poem conceived as part of the poet’s ramble, the kaleidoscope is as it were incorporated into a path strategy. The result of this strategy incorporation is that the path strategy takes over and guides the reader from the actual walking situation to the poet’s couch. And since the path strategy is iconically related to our cognitive perceptions of paths and guiding, it calls up a much richer experience than is literally expressed in the words of the poem. At the end of this journey, on the poet’s couch, the incorporated kaleidoscope impression of the daffodils is still there and structures the memory of the ‘dancing daffodils.’ (p. 238; emphasis original)

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As far as the path strategy is concerned, Ungerer distinguishes two kinds of patterns: a closed path, which implies movement starting and finishing at one point, e.g. showing someone round a garden, and an open path—an arrangement leading from A to B. The former pattern can be found, for instance, in George Moore’s short story ”Home Sickness,” or James Joyce’s “Araby,” where the protagonists’ progress in the course of the narrative follows a closed path; in a sense, the above mentioned protagonists both return to the place of departure at an important point in each of the stories. In contrast, Liam O’Flaherty’s story “Going into Exile” can be interpreted in terms of an open path: although the protagonists are literally led, in a kind of procession, to the point from which they are going to leave into exile (thus there is movement from point A to point B), the path remains open for them in the sense that, as the narrative implies, they will never return from exile to their home village. Seen, from the reader’s perspective, the discovery of the “open-path” strategy employed in the story accounts for the story’s interpretation, which is a pessimistic vision of the Irish condition of life at the time when the story was written. Turning to the sorting strategy, it implies the ability to arrange objects (often basically similar) in patterns (according to size or importance, shape, colour etc.). When objects are arranged according to size or importance, we deal with so-called weighted sorting. In contrast, unweighted sorting involves arranging elements into patterns without foregrounding any of the items included and without establishing any hierarchy among them. In the case of weighted sorting, elements can be arranged hierarchically – upward (hence upward sorting) or downward (downward sorting). In the case of upward sorting, sorting starts with the smallest elements or the least important ones; downward sorting, in turn, begins with the most important elements, finishing with the less prominent ones. Julian Tuwim’s poem “Rzepka” (“The Turnip”) is an excellent example of both downward and upward weighted sorting. The enumeration of the participants making the joint effort of pulling out of the ground the turnip grown by grandpa begins with the weakest and smallest ones – the frog and the jackdaw and ends with grandpa – the biggest and strongest participant (upward sorting). However, when the turnip is finally pulled out, all the participants taking part in this event fall on one another and are enumerated in the reverse order – the grandpa is mentioned first, the frog and the jackdaw come last. In this part of the poem we deal with downward sorting. The idea of downward sorting employed in the poem is illustrated very well by Tadeusz Kuczyński’s cover design for the Polish Radio recording of “Rzepka” (“The Turnip”): 98

Figure 3: Downward sorting: J. Tuwim’s poem “Rzepka” (“The Turnip”)6

5.╇ In lieu of conclusion: Sorting it all out In our discussion of the subjectification-based process of “text iconization” we have treated the literary text as an extended Saussurean sign, structured in accordance with the basic cognitive principle: “more form, more meaning.” Such an extended sign might be diagrammatically presented as follows (the lower part of the circle stands for the “iconized” signifier, while the upper part, for the “extended” signified”): Figure 4: The “extended” Saussurean sign: “more form, more content”

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6 Retrieved February 29, 2014, from http://grafik.tworze.com/ilustracje-grafik-bajki07.php (with kind permission of T. Kuczyński).

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Yet, it is clear that this way of representing the-text-as-extended-sign will not do: a particular text, be it a paragraph, a short story or a novel, perhaps with the exclusion of the computer assisted creation of “interactive fiction” or “hypertexts” (cf. Ryan, 2006), does not “extend” beyond the text’s natural physical bounds; it is rather a particular interpretation or interpretations of the text (that is, the text’s signified) that can be extended. One way of solving this dilemma, which we wish to propose here, is to treat the “text’s signifier” as this part of the sign which can also be “extended” depending on the reader’s ability to detect (or not) the formal, “signifier-related” signals appearing in the text i.e. to iconicize it. By “formal signals” we mean, for instance, shifts in time (analepses and prolepses), starting the story “in medias res,” etc., which potentially can be recognized by the reader.7 If so, one might attempt to account for the reader’s recognition of the degree of “text’s iconicity” as follows: Figure 5: The extended Saussurean sign and iconization

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7 This solution is not unwarranted at all if one realizes that the Saussurean signifier is defined as a “mental image of the sound,” and not a sound’s actual “physical form” (whatever this might mean).

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(Co/R) symbolizes the conceptualizer/reader, the broken arrows stand for the scanning operations the reader performs when reading the text, the circles with broken-line contours symbolize the growth of the text-as-sign during the interpretation process: both on the signifier and the signified part. We can now reformulate, using Langacker’s theory of subjectification, the iconization processes involved in the reading-as-interpretation process. Figure 6: Text’s Iconization as a Subjectification process

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In (a) the relationship between form and meaning is “objectively” visible (OVA); in (b) this relationship is weakened, the degree of iconization is higher than in the case of (a). In (c), which represents diagrammatic iconicity, the iconicity is totally “reader-dependent” and results from the reader’s ability to detect, through iconization alias subjectification (EVA), the relational similarity between the sign and its object, i.e. the text and its interpretation. 101

References Alderson, S. J. (1999). Iconicity in literature: Eighteenth- and nineteenth-century prose writing. In M. Nanny & O. Fisher (Eds.), Form miming meaning. Iconicity in language and literature. (pp. 109–120). Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Dirven, R., & Verspoor, M. (2004). Cognitive explorations of language and linguistics. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Evans, V., & Green, M. (2006). Cognitive linguistics. An introduction. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Freeman, M. H. (2007). Poetic iconicity. In E. Chłopicki, A. Pawelec & A. Pokojska (Eds.), Cognition in language. Volume in honour of Professor Elżbieta Tabakowska. (pp. 472–501). Kraków: Tertium. Fischer, O. (2006). Dowody na ikoniczność w języku. In E. Tabakowska (Ed.), Ikoniczność znaku: słowo przedmiot-obraz-gest. (pp. 15–45). Kraków: Universitas. Johansen, J. D. (1996). Iconicity in literature. Semiotica 110–1/2. 37–55. Johansen, J. D. (2003). Iconizing literature. In W.G. Müller & O. Fischer (Eds.), From sign to signing. (pp. 379–410). Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Lakoff, G. & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press. Langacker, R. W. (1988). A view of linguistic semantics. In B. Rudzka-Ostyn (Ed.), Topics in cognitive linguistics. (pp. 49–90). Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Langacker, R. W. (1990). Subjectification. Cognitive Linguistics. 1–1. 5–38. Langacker, R. W. (1999). Grammar and conceptualization. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Nöth, W. (1990). The handbook of semiotics. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Nöth, W. (2001). Semiotic foundations of iconicity. In O. Fisher & M. Nanny (Eds.). The motivated sign. (pp. 17–28). Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Radden, G., & Dirven, R. (2007). Cognitive English grammar. Amsterdam/ Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. 102

Ryan, M-L. (2006). Avatars of story. Minneapolis/London: University of Minnesota Press. Rypson, P. (1989). Obraz słowa. Historia poezji wizualnej. Warszawa: Akademia Ruchu. Meriton. Ungerer, F. (2005). Iconic text strategies: Path, sorting and weighting, kaleidoscope. In E. Tabakowska, Ch. Ljungberg & O. Fisher (Eds.), Insistent images. (pp. 229–245). Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Ungerer F., & Schmid, H. J. (1997/1996). An introduction to cognitive linguistics. London and New York: Longman.

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Krzysztof Kosecki University of Łódź, Poland

On multiple metonymic mappings in signed languages1 Abstract The paper adopts the framework of contemporary Cognitive Linguistics, which assumes that language provides access to the human conceptual system and that many concepts are based on metaphor and metonymy (Lakoff and Johnson, 1980, 1999; Lakoff, 1987; Langacker, 1987, 1993; Taylor, 1989). The analysis focuses on multiple metonymic mappings underlying simple and compound signs from three unrelated languages: American, British, and Polish. In the signs referring to individual entities, multiple metonymies function only on the level of articulation. In the signs denoting categories, the articulation-level metonymies precede the metonymies related to category structure. Keywords compound; iconicity; mapping; metonymy; single sign; target; vehicle

1.╇ Introduction: signed languages The view of signed languages as a primitive form of communication, incapable of abstraction and flexibility, continued into the second half of the 20th century (Armstrong, 1999, p. 65; Wilcox, 2008, p. 1113). Structuralism showed that their structure was as complex as that of phonic languages. Visual phonology, based on contrasts between the four cheremes of shape, location, movement, and orientation of the hands in the process of signing, accounts for meaningful contrasts between signs in a way similar to phonemes in spoken languages (Stokoe, 1960; Battison, 1978). For example, the American Sign Language (henceforth ASL) signs for ‘train’, ‘tape’, and ‘chair’ have the same hand-shape, location, and orientation, but differ with respect to movement (Poizner, Klima, & Bellugi, 2000, p. 3). The morphology of signed languages involves, among other elements, word classes and word-formation processes, e.g., compounding (Wilcox, 2008, pp. 1115–1116; Długołęcka, 2008, pp. 25–27; Sutton-Spence and Woll, 2010, pp. 99–114). Syntax

1 Proofread by Ann Cardwell.

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deals with sign orders, which can be different from the word orders of phonic languages (Wilcox, 2008, p. 1116; Długołęcka, 2008, pp. 19–23; Sutton-Spence and Woll, 2010, pp. 41–64). Apart from the above-mentioned meaning contrasts, semantics focuses on iconicity and conceptual processes underlying individual signs, for example, metaphor and metonymy (Wilcox, 2000, pp. 69–145; Taub, 2001, pp. 1–42, 74–76; Fabisiak, 2008).

2.╇ Metonymy in phonic and signed communication The role of metonymy in human conceptual systems has been the subject of extensive research over the last three decades. Lakoff and Johnson (1980, pp. 35–40), Lakoff (1987, pp. 77–90), and Taylor (1989, pp. 122–130) focused on lexical metonymies related to individual cases and various forms of prototype-based categories. Though multiple metonymies underlying a single lexeme were first described by Reddy (1979, p. 309), it was Fass (1997, pp. 73–103, 252–253, 286) who conducted a systematic analysis of them in the form of ‘metonymic chains’. Ruiz de Mendoza Ibáñez and Pérez Hernández (2001, pp. 338–342), as well as Ruiz de Mendoza Ibáñez and Diez Velasco (2003, pp. 512–518), discussed the concept of ‘double metonymy’ in certain expressions. Barcelona (2002, pp. 218–221) described metonymies present on multiple levels of analysis within the same expression and ‘long-distance metonymies’ related to category structure. Paradis (2003) argued for the necessity to distinguish metonymies from facets and active zones. A model based on this distinction was applied in the analysis of multiple metonymies in English and Polish lexemes by Kosecki (2005). Panther, Thornburg, and Barcelona (2009) presented metonymy-based aspects of grammar. Benczes, Barcelona, and Ruiz de Mendoza Ibáñez (2011) discussed attempts to create a more unified view of the conceptual strategy. Metonymy in signed communication was the subject of a brief analysis by Wilcox (2000, pp. 85–92), who discussed ASL time signs and the sign for ‘coffee’. The author argued for the presence of multiple metonymic extensions in the latter case. Taub (2001, pp. 35, 74–76) described metonymies underlying “frozen” signs and signs for various animals and sports. Wilcox, Wilcox, and Jarque (2003) compared metonymy-based signs in ASL and the Catalan Sign Language (Lengua de Signes Catalana; henceforth LSC), some of which were structured by two metonymies. Sutton-Spence and Woll (2010, pp. 188–189) give examples of British Sign Language (henceforth BSL) signs based on metonymy and synecdoche. Some Polish Sign Language (Polski Język Migowy; henceforth PJM) metonymies were discussed by Kosecki (2012, 2013). 106

3.╇ Methodological background This analysis assumes the cognitive linguistic view of the sign as a symbolic structure composed of phonological and semantic poles residing in conceptual space (Langacker, 1987). The phonological pole of signed languages consists of the visible moving articulators. These can be conceptualised as objects or persons moving in space and performing specific functions (Wilcox, Wilcox, & Jarque, 2003, pp. 141–143; Wilcox & Morford, 2007, pp. 179–181; Wilcox, 2008, pp. 1122–1124). The semantic pole of signs often reflects mental models structured by metaphors and metonymies. These models “are partially motivated by our embodied experiences common to all humans and partially by our experiences in particular cultures and societies” (Taub, 2001, pp. 19–20). Radden and Kövecses’s (1999, p. 21) definition of metonymy as “a cognitive process in which one conceptual entity, the vehicle, provides mental access to another conceptual entity, the target, within the same domain, or idealised cognitive model (ICM)” is broadly accepted in the analysis. In those cases where metonymies interact with metaphors, Goossens’s (1990) classification of the patterns of interaction is used. Fass’s (1997, p. 73) concept of ‘metonymic chains’ is employed in this analysis; Barcelona’s (2002, pp. 220–221) notion of ‘long-distance metonymy’ is useful here, too.

4.╇ Multiple metonymic mappings in signed languages The data come from three unrelated languages, that is, ASL, BSL, and PJM. The examples of signs have been drawn from printed and electronic dictionaries (ASL browser; Lane, 1990; Hendzel, 1995; Smith, 2010). Where appropriate, the similarity of signs and their structures across these languages is indicated.

4.1╇ Metonymic chains in single signs Such metonymic mappings are present in the structure of signs related to health, sports, various activities, food and drinks, and time periods. The simple cases usually consist of two metonymies. The complex mappings involve three or more metonymies.

4.1.1╇ The ASL sign for ‘ill/sick’ The ASL sign for ‘ill, sick’ is articulated with both hands in five-shapes; one of them touches the forehead with the middle fingertip, whereas the other touches the stomach in the same manner (Lane, 1990, p. 90). The hand movements are 107

simultaneous, and they are accompanied by “a facial expression of physical distress” (Duke, 2009, p. 214). Figure 1: The ASL sign for ‘ill, sick’

The middle finger is used to express feelings (ASL browser), and the sign indicates the belly and head as common locations of pain.2 The accompanying facial expression is often an effect of pain. Two interpretations of the conceptual structure of this sign are possible. In the first, the metonymy Body Part for Pain Located in It precedes the metonymy Behavioural Effect for Cause (Barcelona, 2002, p. 211). In the second, which is more detailed, the sign involves the metonymies Location for Sensation, Sensation for Sickness, and Behavioural Effect for Cause. Depending on the perspective, it is structured by a chain of two or three metonymies.

4.1.2╇ The BSL sign for ‘cricket’ and the ASL sign for ‘baseball’ The signs for sports rely on instrument classifiers, which describe objects through interactions with them rather than by referring to their shape. That is because typical body movements can be more easily recognized than the objects themselves would be (Taub, 2001, pp. 76–77). The BSL sign for ‘cricket’ and the ASL sign for ‘baseball’ both imitate a batting action (Smith, 2010, p. 78; Taub, 2001, p. 76).

2 Signs for other sources of pain can be made close the relevant body parts, e.g., ear or throat (Duke, 2009, p. 214).

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Figure 2: The BSL sign for ‘cricket’ and the ASL sign for ‘baseball’

The metonymy Manner of Use for the Instrument precedes the metonymy Central Sub-Event for the Whole Event (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 32–33). Both signs reflect the central and most salient stages of the games. Such elements as positioning the players on the field or hurling a ball into wickets remain in the background.

4.1.3╇ The BSL sign for ‘angling/fishing’ The BSL sign for ‘angling/fishing’ is made with two closed hands, their thumbs tucked into the bent indexes, and the right hand placed above the left. The hands make short and repeated bending movements from the wrists (Smith, 2010, p. 80). In the PJM counterpart, the hands assume a similar shape, and the wrists move up twice (Hendzel, 1995, p. 133). As with the previous signs, the articulation, “carried out with the hand-shapes showing how an object is held” (Sutton-Spence and Woll, 2010, p. 175), is iconic of the action of using a fishing rod. The metonymy Manner of Use for the Instrument precedes the metonymy Central Sub-Event for the Whole Event (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, p. 32–33). This is because both signs highlight the central stage of the whole scenario of fishing, that is, moving the float to attract a fish; the stages of sinking the float and picking it up are backgrounded.

4.1.4╇ The BSL signs for food and drinks The BSL signs for ‘lemonade, pop, fizzy drink’ and ‘ketchup, sauce’ are structurally similar. In the first of them, the right middle finger of the dominant hand brushes against the top of the left fist, then changes to an open hand as it is brought sharply down (Smith, 2010, p. 108). The second sign is made with the dominant right hand in the flat shape banging repeatedly against the edge of the left hand in the full c-shape (Smith, 2010, p. 114). 109

Figure 3: The BSL signs for ‘lemonade, pop, fizzy drink’ and ‘ketchup, sauce’

Both articulations involve shape-for-shape and movement iconicity (Taub, 2001, p. 70). In the first sign, the non-dominant hand represents a three-dimensional entity: a pressurised can as a typical container for such liquids. The hand movement reflects the action of opening the can and preventing the sudden outflow of its contents. The sign thus joins the metonymies Manner of Opening for the Container and The Container for the Contents into a simple chain. In the second sign, the full c-hand-shape represents the manner of holding the container, that is, a bottle of sauce. The banging movement represents a way to force the viscous ketchup or sauce out of the bottle. The metonymy Manner of Emptying for the Container precedes the metonymy The Container for the Contents. The sign is also structured by a chain of two metonymies.

4.1.5╇ The ASL, BSL, and PJM signs for time periods In the PJM sign for ‘morning,’ the dominant p-shaped hand is placed close to the external corner of the eye. Its index finger goes up, which is iconic of opening the eyelid (Hendzel, 1995, p. 221). This movement represents the moment of waking up, the onset of the cycles of wakefulness and activity. Both are circadian rhythms, that is, they are entrained to the external 24-hour or day-night Zeitgeber cycle and begin to rise to their highest levels in the morning (McGrath & Kelly, 1986, pp. 33, 45). The sign is thus based on a chain of two metonymies: Behavioural Effect for the Onset of the Circadian Rhythms of Wakefulness and Activity and The Onset of the Circadian Rhythms of Wakefulness and Activity for the Beginning of Day. In the ASL and BSL signs for ‘winter,’ hands facing at the sides of the body imitate shivering (Lane, 1990, p. 194; Smith, 2010, p. 82). The PJM sign differs along the parameter of movement: the hands make contact at the knuckles in front of the chest (Hendzel, 1995, p. 324). In the ASL sign for 110

‘summer’, the hand movement is iconic of wiping sweat off one’s forehead (Lane, 1990, p. 165; Duke, 2009, p. 153). One variant of the BSL sign for the concept (Smith, 2010, p. 82) is similar. Figure 4: The ASL and BSL signs for ‘winter’; the ASL sign for ‘summer’

Because both shivering and sweating are reactions to extreme weather conditions, the first metonymy in the signs can be called Behavioural or Physiological Effect for External Cause. It is chained with the metonymy The Part for the Whole because temperature levels are only one aspect of both seasons. Other salient aspects, especially the presence of snow in winter, are backgrounded. Both signs are thus based on simple metonymic chains.

4.2╇ Multiple metonymies related to category structure in single signs Greater distance between the vehicle and target of metonymy means that one of the metonymies “paves the way for the existence” of another (Barcelona, 2002, pp. 220–221). Such metonymies operate in signs for drinks, drugs, and categories of people. Some of them belong to the category of “frozen” signs, which represent whole categories by means of their salient members or prototypes, or by means of actions or items “metonymically associated with the category” (Taub, 2001, p. 35).

4.2.1╇ The ASL and BSL signs for ‘milk’ The ASL sign for ‘milk’ is made with the right hand in an s-shape placed in front of the body with the palm facing left. It opens in a squeezing motion a couple of times (Lane, 1990, p. 110). In the BSL counterpart, both hands make short alternate movements up and down, sometimes combined with a slight squeezing action (Smith, 2010, p. 109). 111

Figure 5: The ASL and BSL signs for ‘milk’

Both signs imitate the squeezing of a cow’s teats. On the level of articulation, they involve simple metonymic chains of Motion for Action and Action for Substance. At the same time, they also refer to milk obtained by means of milking machines, which is the standard method today. That is why the third metonymy underlying the signs’ structure can be called A Less Prototypical Member of a Category for the Category.

4.2.2╇ The ASL and the PJM signs for ‘medicine’ Articulated with the middle finger-tip moving in small circles on the upwardorientated palm of the non-dominant hand (Lane, 1990, p. 109; Duke, 2009, p. 215), the ASL sign represents the action of a chemist mixing ingredients. In the PJM counterpart, the dominant hand is bunched and moves around on the palm of the non-dominant one (Hendzel, 1995, p. 127), which is iconic of crushing the ingredients. Both signs access the concept by means of the metonymic chain of Motion for Action and Action for Substance. As they additionally refer to medicines produced on a mass-scale, they also involve the metonymy A Less Prototypical Member of a Category for the Whole Category.

4.2.3╇ The ASL, BSL, and PJM signs for categories of people The PJM sign for ‘man, male’ highlights the action of shaving: the extended index finger of the dominant hand brushes twice against the cheek (Hendzel, 1995, p. 141). This action is iconic of applying a razor to one’s skin. The sign, however, represents only the central part of the whole scenario: putting shaving cream on the face, rinsing it or wiping the face clean are backgrounded as less salient sections. The event-related metonymy Central Sub-Event for the Whole 112

Event (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 32–33) precedes the metonymy Salient Property for Category: growing a beard is regarded as a property typical of men. By contrast, the BSL sign ‘man, gentleman, male’ is signed with an open hand, which “strokes down the chin, closing to a bunched hand” (Smith, 2010, p. 40). The articulation directly represents the salient property, and the sign involves only the category-related metonymy. Probably due to borrowing, both ASL and BSL signs for ‘Russia’ are produced with the extended index finger of the dominant hand brushing across the chin, which imitates wiping ale off one’s mouth (ASL browser; Smith, 2010, p. 40). This sign thus expresses the stereotype of Russians as a people addicted to alcohol. Figure 6: The BSL sign for ‘Russia’

The metonymy on the level of articulation can be called Final Sub-Event for the Whole Event (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 32–33): the action represents the final stage of alcohol consumption. It is followed by two metonymies related to category structure. Because only some Russians are addicted to alcohol, the metonymy Defining Property for Subcategory (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 35–36) motivates the metonymy Stereotypical Subcategory for the Whole Category (Lakoff, 1987, pp. 79, 85–86). On the level of categorisation, the sign is thus structured by a simple metonymic chain.

4.3╇ Multiple metonymies in compound signs Signed compounds consist of two parts, each of which is an independent sign with its own meaning. Their division into ‘simultaneous’ or ‘sequential’ depends on whether the component morphemes are signed at the same time or one after the other (Sutton-Spence & Woll, 2010, p. 103). Like single signs, compounds are used to refer to various aspects of experience, for example, actions and people. 113

4.3.1╇ The BSL sign for ‘babysit, sitter’ The BSL sign for ‘babysit, sitter’ consists of the sign for ‘baby’ preceding the one in which two v-shaped hands move forward and down from the area near the eye (Smith, 2010, p. 86). Figure 7:╇ The BSL sign for ‘babysit, sitter’

The initial element involves the metonymy Manner of Handling for the Person: the articulation reflects the action of rocking a baby to calm it or help it sleep. The second part of the sign highlights the need to watch as a component of the process of taking care. It combines the metonymies Body Organ for Action and Sub-Event for the Whole Event (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 32–33). The sign thus involves three metonymies; its second element is structured by a simple metonymic chain.

4.3.2╇ The PJM signs for ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ The initial element of the PJM sign for ‘boy’ is the sign for ‘man’ discussed in section 4.2.3 above. It is followed by the sign in which the downward-oriented flat b-hand-shape is placed on the side of the belly (Hendzel, 1995, p. 53). The second element indicates short height, which is a salient property of boys. The metonymic chain underlying the initial sign is thus followed by the metonymy Salient Property for Subcategory. The category-related metonymy in the first element of the sign now represents only a potential property. The PJM sign for ‘girl’ consists of the sign for ‘woman’ followed by a downwards-oriented flat b-hand-shape placed on the side of the chest (Hendzel, 1995, p. 72). In the initial element, the dominant hand points to a ring worn in the ear as a form of ornament common among women (Hendzel, 1995, p. 110). 114

This part of the sign involves the metonymy Salient Property for Category. The second part again represents the property of short height, so it is based on the metonymy Salient Property for Subcategory. The sign as a whole is thus structured by two category-related metonymies; as in the case of the sign for ‘boy,’ the first represents only a potential property.

5.╇Conclusions The multiple metonymic mappings outlined above certainly fall short of a comprehensive account of the presence of metonymy in the structure of signed languages. However, they are enough to postulate the broad scope of metonymy in signed communication. In addition to various forms of metaphor and metaphtonymy, complex metonymic mappings are another element that invalidates the view of signed languages as a primitive form of communication. They show that conceptual processes underlying signed communication are as complex as those operating in spoken languages.

References American Sign Language browser. (2013). Michigan State University Communication Technology Laboratory. Retrieved September 10, 2013, from http:// www.commtechlab-msn.edu/sites/aslweb/browser.htm Armstrong, D. F. (1999). Original signs: Gesture, sign, and the sources of language. Washington, DC: Gallaudet University Press. Barcelona, A. (2002). On the ubiquity and multiple-level operation of metonymy. In B. Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk & K. Turewicz (Eds.), Cognitive linguistics today (pp. 247–259). Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Battison, R. (1978). Lexical borrowing in American Sign Language. Silver Spring, MD: Linstok Press. Benczes, R., Barcelona, A., & Ruiz de Mendoza Ibáñez, J. (Eds.). 2011. Defining metonymy in cognitive linguistics: Towards a consensus view. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Długołęcka, L. (2008). ‘Wstępne uwagi o morfologii Polskiego Języka Migowego (PJM)’ Marcina Mrozika–głos polemiczny [‘Introductory remarks on the morphology of Polish Sign Language (PSL)’ by Marcin Mrozik–a comment]. In E. Twardowska (Ed.), Stan badań nad Polskim Językiem Migowym [Research on Polish Sign Language: state of the art] (pp. 17–28). Łódź: Polski Związek Głuchych Oddział Łódzki. 115

Duke, I. (2009). The everything sign language book: American Sign Language made easy. Avon, MA: Adams Media. Fabisiak, S. (2008). Ikoniczność znaku w Polskim Języku Migowym–wstęp do badań [Iconicity in Polish Sign Language–research preliminaries]. In E. Twardowska (Ed.), Stan badań nad Polskim Językiem Migowym [Research on Polish Sign Language–state of the art] (pp. 103–110). Łódź: Polski Związek Głuchych Oddział Łódzki. Fass, D. C. (1997). Processing metonymy and metaphor. Greenwich, CO: Ablex Publishing Corporation. Goossens, L. (1990). Metaphtonymy: The interaction of metaphor and metonymy in expressions for linguistic action. Cognitive Linguistics, 1 (3), 323–340. Grzymska, A. (2008). Kognitywne ujęcie metaphor w PJM [A cognitive view of metaphor in Polish Sign Language]. In E. Twardowska (Ed.), Stan badań nad Polskim Językiem Migowym [Research on Polish Sign Language–state of the art] (pp. 87–95). Łódź: Polski Związek Głuchych Oddział Łódzki. Hendzel, J. K. (1995). Słownik polskiego języka miganego [A dictionary of Polish Sign Language]. Olsztyn: Wydawnictwo Offer. Kosecki, K. (2005). On the part-whole configuration and multiple construals of salience within a simple lexeme. Łódź: Łódź University Press. Kosecki, K. (2012). Metonymy in Polish Sign Language. In K. Kosecki & J. Badio (Eds.), Cognitive processes in language (pp. 159–171). Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Kosecki, K. (2013). Metonymy as a form of expressing identity in phonic and signed languages. In J. Badio & K. Ciepiela (Eds.), Talk, action, and interaction (pp. 59–74). Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fre, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal About the Mind. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, G., & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, G., & Johnson, M. (1999). Philosophy in the Flesh: The Embodied Mind and its Challenge to Western Thought. New York: Basic Books. Lane, L. G. (1990). Gallaudet survival guide to signing. Washington, DC: Gallaudet University Press. Langacker, R. W. (1987). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar: Vol. 1. Theoretical Prerequisites. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 116

Langacker, R. W. (1993). Reference-point constructions. Cognitive Linguistics, 4 (1), 1–38. McGrath, J. E., & Kelly, J. R. (1986). Time and Human Interaction: Toward a Social Psychology of Time. New York: Guilford Press. Panter, K.-U., Thornburg, L. L., & Barcelona, A. (Eds.) (2009). Metonymy and Metaphor in Grammar. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Paradis, C. (2003). Where does metonymy stop? Senses, facets, and active zones. Metaphor and Symbol, 19 (4), 245–264. Poisner, H., Klima, E. S., & Bellugi, U. (2000). What the Hands Reveal About the Brain. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Radden, G., & Kövecses, Z. (1999). Towards a theory of metonymy. In K.-U. Panther & G. Radden (Eds.), Metonymy in Language and Thought (pp. 17–59). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Reddy, M. J. (1979). The conduit metaphor–a case of frame conflict in our language about language. In A. Ortony (Ed.), Metaphor and Thought (pp. 284–324). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ruiz de Mendoza Ibáñez, F. J., & Díez Velasco, O. I. (2003). Patterns of conceptual interaction. In R. Pörings & R. Dirven (Eds.), Metaphor and Metonymy in Comparison and Contrast (pp. 489–532). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Ruiz de Mendoza Ibáñez, F. J., & Pérez Hernández, L. (2003). Metonymy and the grammar: Motivation, constraints and interaction. Language and Communication, 21, 321–357. Smith, C. (2010). Sign Language Companion: A Handbook of British Signs. London: Souvenir Press. Stokoe, W. C. (1960). Sign Language Structure: An Outline of the Visual Communication Systems of the American Deaf. Silver Spring, MD: Linstok Press. Sutton-Spence, R., & Woll, B. (2010). The linguistics of British Sign Language: An Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Taub, S. F. (2001). Language in the body: Iconicity and Metaphor in American Sign Language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Taylor, J. R. (1989). Linguistic Categorisation: Prototypes in Linguistic Theory. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Wilcox, P. P. (2000). Metaphor in American Sign Language. Washington, DC: Gallaudet University Press.

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Wilcox, S. (2008). Signed languages. In D. Geeraerts & H. Cuyckens (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Cognitive Linguistics (pp. 1113–1136). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wilcox, S., & Morford, J. P. (2007). Empirical methods in signed language research. In M. González-Márquez, I. Mittelberg, S. Coulson, & M. J. Spivey (Eds.), Methods in Cognitive Linguistics (pp. 171–200). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Wilcox, S., Wilcox, P. P., & Jarque, M. J. (2003). Mappings in conceptual space: Metonymy, metaphor, and iconicity in two signed languages. Jezikoslovlje, 4 (1), 139–156.

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Marcin Kuczok University of Silesia, Katowice, Poland

The metonymic mappings within the event schema in noun-to-verb back-formations Abstract The present paper examines the patterns of metonymic mappings within the event schema in English noun-to-verb back-formations. Back-formation as a non-concatentive word-formation process consists in deleting a real or supposed suffix from a word by analogy with similar patterns of word-formation, either in the diachronic or in the synchronic perspective on morphology. In English, the mechanism of back-formation mainly creates verbs from nouns, alongside such highly productive morphological processes as affixation and conversion. Although the opinions about the role of conceptual metonymy in word-formation vary among cognitive linguists, in the paper it is claimed that it is possible to explain the construction of meaning in back-formed denominal verbs by means of this conceptual mechanism occurring within the event schema. The study, based on examples found in a number of published sources of the English language, allows for the identification of such metonymic mappings as AGENT FOR ACTION, OBJECT FOR ACTION, RESULT FOR ACTION, INSTRUMENT FOR ACTION, MEANS FOR ACTION, DESTINATION or GOAL FOR ACTION, TIME FOR ACTION and MANNER FOR ACTION. Applying the theory of conceptual metonymy to the semantic analysis of noun-to-verb back-formations in English allows for a systematic picture of this morphological process and shows that backformation does not differ from more productive word-formation mechanisms when it comes to the construction of meaning. Keywords conceptual metonymy; event schema; back-formation; denominal verbs

1.╇Introduction The aim of the present paper is to analyze the metonymic motivation behind English noun-to-verb back-formations. It seems that the morphological process of back-formation, also called back-derivation, has not received much attention from linguists. Despite the fact that this word-formation mechanism can be classified as one of the morphological processes, which are based on regular and consistent 119

grammatical rules, rather than one of the word-manufacturing processes, which are rather irregular and limited to untypical examples (Bauer, 1983, pp. 230–231; Szymanek, 1989, pp. 32–35), back-formation tends to be treated as a marginal phenomenon. However, from a cognitive-semantic perspective the construction of meaning behind back-formation is worth our attention. The first part of the paper contains an overview of literature concerning such problems as the process of back-formation and the role of metonymy in wordformation. Next, the article presents examples of noun-to-verb back-formations motivated by metonymies in the event schema.

2.╇ An overview of the literature The first problem presented in this part is the notion of back-formation itself, analyzed as a morphological phenomenon. Then, in the following section, the current views on the role of metonymy in English word-formation are presented. Finally, our focus goes to the metonymies in the event schema that are assumed to play a significant role in the motivation of meaning in noun-to-verb backformations in English.

2.1╇ The morphological process of back-formation Bauer (1983, p. 64) defines back-formation as “the formation of a new lexeme by the deletion of a suffix, or supposed suffix, from an apparently complex form by analogy with other instances where the suffixed and non-suffixed forms are both lexemes.” As an example, the author gives the verb lazeV, derived from lazyA, which seems to be created by analogy with crazeV – crazyA. Szymanek (1989, pp. 33–34) classifies back-formation as one of the non-concatentive morphological processes, which are based on the modification of a single lexical item. He (1989, pp. 92–96) distinguishes between back-formation from a non-suffixed base, such as, for instance, in laserN – laseV, where laserN is an acronym for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation, and back-formation involving elimination of an independent suffix, as seen, for example, in transcriptionN – transcriptV, where the back-formed verb is used as an alternative to the verb transcribeV. As mentioned above, sometimes back-formation is also called back-derivation, which suggests that the rule governing this process is the reverse of a derivational process. However, it must be noted that the mechanism of backformation is not always based on reversing a derivational process. As an example, Bauer (1983, p. 231) gives the word peaN which is singular and countable, but which was created by means of back-formation from peaseN, a singular uncountable noun. In this case, the process of back-formation resembles a reversal of the 120

inflectional mechanism of adding the plural suffix -s to nouns rather than any derivational pattern of word-formation. Thus, the author (1983, p. 231) suggests using the following formula to explain the nature of back-formation, instead of claiming that it is based on the reversal of a derivational process: Formation: X + A = Y Back-formation: Y – A = X In the above formula, X and Y are form classes and A is a particular suffix. For example, the creation of editV from editorN can be explained by analogy with exhibitV – exhibitorN in the following way: Formation: exhibitV + or = exhibitorN Back-formation: editorN – or = editV Interestingly, both Bauer (1983, pp. 64–65) and Szymanek (1989, pp. 93–96) suggest differentiating between the diachronic perspective and the synchronic perspective in analyzing back-formation in English. The first approach takes into consideration the origins of words that were created in the past and on the basis of derivational rules that are not productive anymore, or happen to be treated as examples of regular derivation rather than back-formation today. These may include agentive and instrumental nouns and abstract nominals, such as beggarN – begV and enthusiasmN – enthuseVâ•›. The second perspective on back-formation concerns the formation of words by analogy with those word-formation patterns that are productive in contemporary English. A special focus should be on compound verbs derived from agentive or instrumental nouns or from noun-adjective compounds, such as caretakerN – caretakeV and handwritingN – handwriteV. The problem with modern back-formations created from compounds is that it is actually difficult to say whether they should be classified as instances of back-formation or rather as independent noun-verb compounds, created by analogy with the noun-adjective ones. It is important to note that back-formation belongs to the word-formation processes involved in the creation of denominal verbs in English, alongside affixation and conversion (Bauer, 1983, pp. 222–223, 230–232; Quirk et al., 1985, pp. 1557–1558, 1561; Szymanek, 1989, pp. 274–304). That is why in the present paper we are focused on denominal verbs created by means of back-formation, although there are also nouns and adjectives derived from this word-formation process: for example, paramedicalA – paramedicN and surrealistN – surrealA.

2.2╇ Metonymic motivation in English word-formation Conceptual metonymy can be defined as “using one entity to refer to another that is related to it” (Lakoff & Johnson, 2003, p. 35). Another common definition 121

holds that metonymy is “a cognitive process in which one conceptual entity, the vehicle, provides mental access to another conceptual entity, the target, within the same idealized cognitive models (ICMs)” (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 19–21; Barcelona, 2000, p. 4). An interesting view on the role and place of metonymy in English word-formation processes has been presented in Brdar & Brdar-Szabó (2013, p. 42). In the cases of concatentive morphological processes, such as affixation and compounding, the authors distinguish between metonymic shifts that take place prior to the wordformation process and metonymic shifts which are posterior to those processes. This means that metonymy may occur either in the input for word-formation or in the output of the process. For example, in -er nominalizations, such as Wall-StreeterN it is the input compound noun Wall StreetN that undergoes a metonymic shift of the type PLACE FOR A PERSON WORKING IN THIS PLACE before the suffixation occurs. Then, in the case of constructionN, derived by suffixation from constructV, the basic meaning of the derived noun is “the act of constructing something,” but the derived noun may be used metonymically with the meaning of “a building,” as for instance, in the phrase “a glass construction,” which can be said to be motivated by the ACTION FOR RESULT OF THE ACTION metonymy. Interestingly, not all linguists assuming the cognitive-semantic approach to morphology will agree with the above suggestion: while Radden & Kövecses (1999, p. 37), Panther & Thornburg (2003, pp. 286–291) and Janda (2011, p. 369) also treat examples of suffixal derivatives as instances of the metonymic process, Langacker (1999, pp. 23–24), Schönefeld (2005, p. 147) and Bierwiaczonek (2013, pp. 109–114) claim that such cases should be treated as blends of the meanings of the morphological components involved in the creation of a new word. For instance, it can be claimed that in Wall-StreeterN, understood as “a person working on Wall Street,” the meaning of the noun is the result of the blending of the noun Wall StreetN, denoting “the financial district of New York city” with the meaning of the agentive suffix -er. Next, Brdar & Brdar-Szabó claim that there is no doubt about the metonymic shifting in non-concatentive word-formation processes: “conversion, blending, reduplication, clipping, as well as various kinds of shortening would belong here” (2013, p. 58). The process of conversion in English, especially, has been widely discussed as metonymic in nature (e.g. Dirven, 1999; Radden & Kövecses, 1999; Schönefeld, 2005; Balteiro, 2007; Cetnarowska, 2011; Kuczok, 2011). Interestingly, Bierwiaczonek (2013, p. 61) treats examples of clipping or acronymization, which assume a shortening of a word without any changes either in its lexical category or its meaning, as formal metonymy, in which the shortened form stands for the full form of a word. Then, in line with Brdar & Brdar-Szabó’s claim, 122

also back-formation, which is a non-concatentive word-formation mechanism and also consists in a kind of shortening of a word, can be treated as motivated by metonymic mappings. However, since back-formation creates new lexemes and new meanings, the type of metonymic shifting that motivates this mechanism cannot be reduced to formal metonymy, but should be rather ascribed to what Bierwiaczonek (2013, p. 153) calls referential metonymy, in which, in line with Lakoff & Johnson’s definition quoted above, one entity stands for another.

2.3╇Metonymies within the event schema in noun-to-verb back-formations The event-schema metonymies are understood in the present paper as “metonymies in which various concepts belonging to some particular event schema are used to access other concepts belonging to the same event schema” (Bierwiaczonek, 2013, p. 119). It can be also said that these metonymies occur between the various parts of the ACTION ICM in the event-schema, resulting in such mappings as AGENT FOR ACTION, INSTRUMENT FOR ACTION, RESULT FOR ACTION, SOURCE FOR ACTION, DESTINATION/GOAL FOR ACTION, MEANS FOR ACTION, MANNER FOR ACTION, TIME FOR ACTION, PLACE FOR ACTION and OBJECT FOR ACTION (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 36–38; Dirven, 1999, pp. 279–285). Additionally, there are also such metonymies within the ACTION ICM as ACTION FOR AGENT (snitchV – snitchN), ACTION FOR OBJECT (biteV – give someone a bite) and ACTION FOR RESULT (cutV – a deep cut), but they motivate deverbal nouns (Radden & Kövecses, 1999, pp. 36–38; Bierwiaczonek, 2013, p. 120). The metonymies underlying the meaning of denominal verbs can be shown in the diagram adapted from Kuczok (2011, p. 43), where the circles represent the conceptual domains or subdomains of the ACTION ICM, and the arrows represent the metonymic mappings. Figure 1: Parts of the ACTION ICM in the metonymic mappings of denominal verbs

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It is worth noting that the metonymic mappings within the event schema may be said to motivate the semantic categories of derived denominal verbs, described in English morphology by various authors (Marchand, 1966; Plag, 1999; Szymanek, 1988, 1989; Gottfurcht, 2008). The most common semantic categories of denominal verbs include the following: (1) stative verbs, called also similative verbs, which can be paraphrased as “to be A/N/to be like N/to act as N”; they may be motivated by the AGENT FOR ACTION metonymy; for instance, doctorV; (2) causative or resultative verbs, which describe causation and can be paraphrased as “to cause to be/become A/N/to make N/to convert into N”; they may be motivated by the RESULT FOR ACTION metonymy; for example, destructV; (3) ornative verbs, which describe causation and possession, and can be paraphrased as “to cause to have N; to provide with N”; they may be motivated by the OBJECT FOR ACTION metonymy; for example, labelV; (4) privative verbs, which involve causation, negation and possession, and can be paraphrased as “to cause not to have N/to free from N/to deprive of N/to remove N”; they may be motivated by the OBJECT FOR ACTION metonymy; for example, defleaV; (5) ablative verbs, which involve causation and movement from a place, and can be paraphrased as “to put out of N/to expel from N/to remove from N”; they may be motivated by the SOURCE FOR ACTION metonymy; for instance, derailV; (6) repetitive verbs, paraphrased as “to V again or anew/to achieve a certain result again/to provide with a new N”; they may be motivated by the OBJECT FOR ACTION metonymy; for instance, renameV (7) locative verbs, paraphrased as “to perform an action in N; to locate or put in N”; they may be motivated by the GOAL or DESTINATION FOR ACTION and the PLACE FOR ACTION metonymies; for instance, bottleV and gardenV; (8) instrumental verbs, paraphrased as “to use N to perform an action”; they may be motivated by the INSTRUMENT or MEANS FOR ACTION metonymies; for instance, hammerV and air-conditionV. Moreover, some authors suggest additional categories of denominal verbs, emphasizing that they would include only a few verbs which could be regarded as exceptions. For instance, Szymanek (1989, pp. 277–278) writes about the category of possessive denominal verbs, paraphrased as “to have N” and possibly illustrated by bloomV, as well as the category of acquisitive verbs, paraphrased as 124

“to come to have N,” as seen in colorV. Gottfurcht (2008, p. 12) also adds performative verbs to her list, paraphrased as “to do/write/say/perform N,” as in tangoN or botanizeN. However, these performative verbs may likewise belong to other semantic categories, such as ornative or resultative verbs. The problem with the above list of the semantic categories of derived verbs is that it does not cover all denominal verbs. Especially verbs based on the TIME FOR ACTION and MANNER FOR ACTION metonymies, such as adolesceV and summerV, as well as elocuteV and tiptoeV, cannot be classified into any of the categories listed above. Perhaps such denominal verbs, although rare, should be given their own semantic categories of temporal verbs and verbs of manner. As we will suggest in the following sections of this paper, the theory of conceptual metonymy may solve the problems that are associated with the inadequate number of semantic categories to explain the meaning of back-formed denominal verbs.

3.╇ Presentation of the study The following sections of this part present the identified metonymic mappings in back-formations together with examples. The study was based on analyzing examples of back-formed denominal verbs in various published, that is, official sources, namely Macmillan Dictionary for Advanced Learners (hereafter abbreviated as MED), The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (hereafter abbreviated a AHD), WordNet 3.1 (hereafter abbreviated as WordNet), Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary (hereafter abbreviated as MWD), Collins Thesaurus of the English Language (hereafter abbreviated as CT), Random House Kernerman Webster’s College Dictionary (hereafter abbreviated as RHKW), British National Corpus (hereafter abbreviated BNC), Megasłownik, and O’Grady, Dobrovolsky & Katamba’s Contemporary Linguistics. An Introduction (1997) (hereafter abbreviated as CL).

3.1╇ The AGENT FOR ACTION metonymy The AGENT FOR ACTION metonymy can be identified in denominal verbs that belong to the semantic category of stative or similative verbs, usually paraphrased as “to be like N/to act as N.” This metonymy can be well illustrated by such examples as the verbs burgleV and sculptV, derived from burglarN and sculptorN, respectively, as shown in examples (1a) and (1b). The creation of these verbs assumes an analogy with the derivation process by means of the suffixes -ar and -or, which can be found in deverbal nouns denoting agentive meaning, such as lieV – liarN and actV – actorN. 125

1a. burglarN – burgleV I think we’ve been burgled! (MED) 1b. sculptorN – sculptV She is sculpting the block of marble into an image of her husband. (WordNet) This type of metonymy is also common among verbs created from compounds, such as, for instance, baby-sitV derived from baby-sitterN and globe-trotV derived from globe-trotterN, presented in examples (2a) and (2b). In both these cases the back-formation pattern is based on analogy with the word-formation rule of adding the agentive suffix -er to verbs, as in teachV – teacherN. 2a. baby-sitterN – baby-sitV I’ll ask my mother to babysit. (MED) 2b. globe-trotterN – globe-trotV an economical way to globe-trot (MWD)

3.2╇ The OBJECT FOR ACTION metonymy The back-formations motivated by the OBJECT FOR ACTION metonymy fall into the semantic category of ornative verbs, typically paraphrased as “to cause to have N/provide with N.” The examples illustrating this metonymy include such verbs as donateV created from donationN (3a) by analogy with nouns derived from verbs with the suffix -ate such as chlorineN – chlorinateV, as well as sedateV created from sedativeN (3b) by analogy with nouns that seem to be converted from adjectives created with the suffix -ive from verbs such as affirmV – affirmativeA/N. It is important to note that this metonymic mapping is concerned with the object towards wich or with which the action is performed and this has nothing to do with the grammatical object of the sentence (Bierwiaczonek, 2013, p. 120). It seems that the object involved in the event schema may also be an abstract idea or entity, as seen, for instance, in example (3c), where reminisceV is created from reminiscenceN. Here, the analogy is drawn to nouns derived from verbs by means of the suffix -ence, as for example, in dependV – dependenceN. 3a. donationN – donateV We donated our old clothes to charity. (MWD) 3b. sedativeN – sedateV The doctor sedated the patient heavily. (MWD) 3c. reminiscenceN – reminisceV We enjoyed reminiscing about old times. (Megasłownik) 126

3.3╇ The RESULT FOR ACTION metonymy The metonymy RESULT FOR ACTION can be identified in verbs created by means of back-formation and involving either verbs derived from single nouns or verbs created from compounds. Example (4a) presents the verb destructV created from destructionN by analogy with deverbal nouns formed with the suffix -ion such as actV – actionN. This verb belongs to the semantic category of the causative or resultative verbs, paraphrased as “to cause to be/become N/to make N/to convert into N.” Example (4b) below shows the verb enthuseV, created from enthusiasmN. Here it is possible to draw analogy to some English nouns of foreign origin, ending with the form “asm,” which resembles a suffix, found in such words as miasmN, bioplasmN, pleonasmN or sarcasmN. 4a. destructionN – destructV The engineers had to destruct the rocket for safety reasons. (WordNet) 4b. enthusiasmN – enthuseV She enthused about her holiday. (CT) Next, example (5) illustrates the process of back-formation based on a compound: one-upV is created from one-upmanshipN by analogy with abstract nouns derived from verb-noun compounds by means of the suffixes -ship, such as, for example, workmanN – workmanshipN. 5. one-upmanshipN – one-upV to one-up the competition (RHKW) It seems that both enthuseV (4b) and one-upV (5) may be classified as acquisitive verbs, which follow the paraphrase “to come to have N.”

3.4╇ The INSTRUMENT FOR ACTION metonymy This metonymy can be illustrated by such verbs as rotovateV derived from rotovatorN, presented in example (6a), or steamrollV derived from the compound noun steamrollerN, presented in example (6b). Both back-formations are based on an analogy with nouns created from verbs by means of such instrumental suffixes as -or or -er, as seen, for instance, in rotateV – rotatorN and printN – printerV. The back-formed verbs motivated by the INSTRUMENT FOR ACTION metonymy belong to the semantic category of instrumental verbs, usually paraphrased as “to use N to perform an action.” 6a. rotovatorN – rotovateV Such a pan usually arises at a depth of about six to ten inches, caused by digging (or more frequently rotovating) always to the same depth. (BNC) 127

6b. steamrollerN – steamrollV steamroll the roads (WordNet) An interesting case here is the verb tweezeV created from the noun tweezersN, which seems to be based on analogy with word-formation patterns in which a verb takes the instrumental -er suffix and then is used in plural, as in the case of blinkV – blinkersN. 7. tweezersN – tweezeV tweeze facial hair (WordNet)

3.5╇ The MEANS FOR ACTION metonymy The MEANS FOR ACTION metonymy can be illustrated by such denominal verbs as televiseV shown in example (8a), created from televisionN by analogy with word-formation patterns with the suffix -ion, as shown in section 3.3 above, or the verb air-conditionV in example (8b), created from the nominal compound air-conditioningN by analogy with deverbal nouns taking the suffix -ing such as, for instance, swimV – swimmingN. Like the verbs motivated by the INSTRUMENT FOR ACTION, the verbs that are motivated by the MEANS FOR ACTION metonymy also fall into the semantic category of instrumental verbs, whose meaning is “to use N to perform an action.” Interestingly, as shown in example (8c), the verb back-formV, which describes the process of backformationN, is also created by means of back-formation by analogy with nouns derived from verbs by adding the suffix -ation, as, for example, in the case of starveV – starvationN. 8a. televisionN – televiseV The same network will televise the tournament next year. (MWD) 8a. air-conditioningN – air-conditionV The room was cool because it had been air-conditioned. (WordNet) 8c. back-formationN – back-formV We had to back-form words in Linguistics today. (CL)

3.6╇ The DESTINATION/GOAL FOR ACTION metonymy The metonymy DESTINATION or GOAL FOR ACTION may be illustrated by the verb headquarterV created from the noun headquartersN, as seen in example (9). Here, there seems to be an analogy with nouns converted from verbs and made plural by means of the suffix -s, as, for instance, in clotheV – clothesN. These back-formed denominal verbs belong to the semantic category of locative verbs, usually paraphrased as “to locate or put in N.” 128

9. headquartersN – headquarterV The former Texas Oil company is headquartered in White Plains, New York. (AHD)

3.7╇ The TIME FOR ACTION metonymy In this metonymic mapping, it is the noun referring to the time of the action which is used as the vehicle for the action. The TIME FOR ACTION metonymy behind back-formation can be illustrated by the creation of the verb adolesceV from the noun adolescenceN, as seen in example (10a) and by the verb gestateV, shown in example (10b) and created from the noun gestationN. In the case of adolesceV, the analogy is drawn to nouns derived from verbs by means of the suffix -ence, as shown in section 3.2 above. In the other example, gestateV is created by analogy with nouns derived from verbs with the -ion suffix, as presented in section 3.3 above. 10a. adolescenceN – adolesceV The children are beginning to adolesce around the age of 12. (WordNet) 10b. gestationN – gestateV For what we had just created was not a life but a death, and one that was to take far less than nine months to gestate. (BNC)

3.8╇ The MANNER FOR ACTION metonymy The vehicle in the MANNER FOR ACTION metonymy is the noun naming the way or manner of performing a particular action. This metonymic mapping can be seen in such verbs as elocuteV, presented in example (11a) and created from elocutionN, and the verb sleep-walkV, seen in example (11b), which is created on the basis of the compound sleep-walkingN. The back-formation of elocuteV seems to be based on an analogy with nouns derived from verbs by means of the -ion suffix, presented above in section 3.3. The creation of sleep-walkV resembles the mechanism of deriving nouns from verbs with the suffix -ing, also presented above, in section 3.5. 11a. elocutionN – elocuteV The poet elocuted beautifully. (WordNet) 11b. sleep-walkingN – sleep-walkV sleep-walked through the workday (MWD)

4.╇Conclusions The aim of the study presented in this paper was to analyze the metonymic mappings involved in noun-to-verb back-formations in English. As a result, it 129

was possible to identify such metonymic mappings within the event schema as AGENT FOR ACTION, OBJECT FOR ACTION, INSTRUMENT FOR ACTION, MEANS FOR ACTION, RESULT FOR ACTION, TIME FOR ACTION and DESTINATION FOR ACTION. It seems that other metonymic mappings within the event schema, such as SOURCE FOR ACTION and PLACE FOR ACTION, although present in English denominal verbs created by means of affixation or conversion, are generally missing in back-formations. Additionally, the study has also shown that while the list of semantic categories of derived verbs fails to encompass all of the back-formed denominal verbs, classifying them according to their metonymic motivation allows to include all of them. Moreover, this classification is possible regardless of the diachronic or synchronic character of the back-formed verbs. In closing, it should be noted that applying the theory of conceptual metonymy to studying the motivation of meaning in noun-to-verb back-formation offers a systematic and holistic view on meaning creation in this word-formation process. Although cognitive linguists provide various opinions on the role of metonymy in word-formation, it seems clear that this conceptual mechanism plays an important role in English word-formation. Viewing back-formation through metonymy allows us to see that this morphological process follows certain general semantic tendencies, shared also with other word-formation processes, and hopefully breaks the stereotype of the marginal character of back-formation in English morphology.

References Balteiro, I. (2007). A Contribution to the Study of Conversion in English. Münster: Waxmann. Barcelona, A. (2000). The cognitive theory of metaphor and metonymy. In A. Barcelona (Ed.). Metaphor and Metonymy at the Crossroads. A Cognitive Perspective (pp. 1–28). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Bauer, L. (1983). English Word-formation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bierwiaczonek, B. (2013). Metonymy in Language, Thought and Brain. Sheffield: Equinox. Brdar, M. & Brdar-Szabó, R. (2013). Some reflections on metonymy and wordformation. Explorations in English Language and Linguistics 1.1, 40–62. Cetnarowska, B. (2011). Conversion as metonymy and the problem of recursiveness. In B. Bierwiaczonek, B. Cetnarowska & A. Turula (Eds.). Syntax in Cognitive Grammar (pp. 13–26). Częstochowa: Wyższa Szkoła Lingwistyczna. 130

Dirven, R. (1999). Conversion as a conceptual metonymy of event schemata. In K.-U. Panther & G. Radden (Eds.). Metonymy in Language and Thought (pp. 275–287). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Gottfurcht, C.A. (2008). Denominal Verb Formation in English. Unpublished PhD dissertation. Northwestern University: Evanston, Illinois. Janda, L. (2011). Metonymy in word-formation. Cognitive Linguistics 22–2, 359–392. Kuczok, M. (2011). The interaction of metaphor and metonymy in noun-toverb conversion. In B. Bierwiaczonek, B. Cetnarowska & A. Turula (Eds.). Syntax in Cognitive Grammar (pp. 41–54). Częstochowa: Wyższa Szkoła Lingwistyczna. Lakoff, G. & Johnson, M. (2003). Metaphors We Live By. With a New Afterword. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Langacker, R.W. (1999). Grammar and Conceptualization. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Marchand, H. (1966). The Categories and Types of Present-Day English WordFormation: A Synchronic-Diachronic Approach. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press. Panther, K.-U. & Thornburg, L. (2003). The roles of metaphor and metonymy in English -er nominals. In R. Dirven & R. Pörings (Eds.) Metaphor and Metonymy in Comparison and Contrast (pp. 279–319). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Plag, I. (1999). Morphological Productivity: Structural Constraints in English Derivation. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Quirk, R., Greenbaum, S., Leech, G. & Svartvik, J. (1985). A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language. London: Longman. Radden, G. & Kövecses, Z. (1999). Towards a theory of metonymy. In K.-U. Panther & G. Radden (Eds.). Metonymy in Language and Thought (pp. 17–59). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Schönefeld, D. (2005). Zero-derivation – functional change – metonymy. In L. Bauer & D. Valera (Eds.). Approaches to Conversion/Zero-Derivation (pp. 131–159). Münster: Waxmann. Szymanek, B. (1988). Categories and Categorization in Morphology. Lublin: Wydawnictwo KUL. Szymanek, B. (1989). Introduction to Morphological Analysis. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. 131

Sources of examples British National Corpus. Retrieved September 10, 2013, from http://www. natcorp.ox.ac.uk/ Collins Thesaurus of the English Language. Retrieved September 12, 2013, from http://www.collinsdictionary.com/english-thesaurus Macmillan Dictionary for Advanced Learners. (2002). Oxford: Macmillan. Megasłownik. Retrieved September 3, 2013, from http://megaslownik.pl/home Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary. Retrieved September 10, 2013, from http://www.merriam-webster.com/ O’Grady, W., Dobrovolsky, M. & Katamba, F. (Eds.). (1997). Contemporary Linguistics. An Introduction. London: Longman. Random House Kernerman Webster’s College Dictionary. Retrieved September 14, 2013, from http://www.kdictionaries-online.com/DictionaryPage.aspx? ApplicationCode=18 The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (4th ed.). (2000). Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. WordNet 3.1. Retrieved September 9, 2013, from http://wordnet.princeton.edu/

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Anna Kuncy-Zając University of Silesia in Katowice, Poland

The concepts of sleep and death in the Italian language and the unidirectionality of metaphor Abstract The aim of this article is to present the relationship between the concepts of sleep and death in the Italian language in the light of the unidirectionality hypothesis. The unidirectionality hypothesis concerns the irreversibility of the direction of metaphorical mapping and it is one of the key elements of the cognitive theory of metaphor by Lakoff and Johnson. Jäkel also devotes much attention to this hypothesis in his book Metaphors in Abstract Domains of Discourse, where he describes it in detail, elaborates it and empirically verifies it on the basis of understanding metaphors. The hypothesis has also found confirmation in conceptual metaphorical models of meditation, dream and hypnosis which were part of my research into the conceptualisation of other states of consciousness in Italian. However, the results of the study of the concept of sleep presented in this article showed a unique relationship between the latter and death. In Italian it is common to name death eternal sleep, but we can also find numerous examples of texts where sleep is defined as temporary/momentary death or as little death. The following article, besides discussing the relationship between the concepts of sleep and death in the Italian language, also presents considerations about the existence and origin of conceptual metaphors where the principle of unidirectionality of metaphorical mapping is upset and about their place in the cognitive theory of metaphor. Keywords metaphor; unidirectionality; sleep; death

1.╇Introduction Two factors made me ask myself the question: what is the role of unidirectionality of metaphorical mapping in the cognitive theory of metaphor? 133

One of them was reading the book by Olaf Jäkel (2003), “Metaphors in Abstract Domains of Discourse”; the other was my research into conceptualization of sleep (sonno) in the Italian language, and in particular its connection with the concept of death.

2.╇The unidirectionality hypothesis and the basic functions of conceptual metaphor In his work, Jäkel (2003) devotes much attention to the unidirectionality of metaphorical mapping, emphasising that “it is the essential element of cognitive approach, clearly differentiating it from other theories of metaphor, like Aristotle’s substitution theory or Max Black’s interaction theory” (2003, p. 61). According to the authors of the cognitive theory of metaphor, “we typically conceptualize the nonphysical in terms of the physical” (Lakoff & Johnson, 1980, p. 59). “The less clearly delineated (and usually less concrete) concepts are partially understood in terms of the more clearly delineated (and usually more concrete) concepts, which are directly grounded in our experience” (Lakoff & Johnson, 1980, p. 109), and “the mappings are unidirectional: bodily experience is a source of vocabulary for our psychological states, but not the other way around” (Sweetser, 1990, p. 30, see also Lakoff & Turner, 1989, p. 132). In order to organise these expressions, Jäkel (2003, p. 44) proposes the following wording of the unidirectionality hypothesis: “As a rule, metaphor (“X is Y”) links an abstract and complex target domain (X) as explanandum with a more concrete source domain (Y) as explanans, which is more simply structured and open to sensual experience. Moreover, the relation between the elements X and Y is irreversible, meaning that the metaphorical transfer has an unequivocal direction.”

Jäkel (2003, p. 65) also proposes a diagram (Fig.1), where the explanatory function of metaphor dictates a direction of the mapping superior to all specifications: from what is better known to what is less known and therefore requiring explanation. This is manifested in everyday, conventional metaphors by explaining the abstract by the physical/concrete and the more concrete notions are conceptualised anthropocentrically or somatocentrically, by the personifying reference to the human body as the ultimate basis of explanation (Jäkel, 2003, pp. 65–66): 134

Figure 1: Unidirectionality: more complex model by Jäkel (2003, p. 65) (source domain => target domain) 0(7$3+256 NQRZQ ! XQNQRZQ

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Contrary to what could be suggested by the diagram presented by Jäkel, he argues in his research that also in the most of the specialized metaphors the mapping direction is from the concrete to the abstract but a reverse direction of the projection is also possible in cases when the abstract source domain is closer or better known to the author of the metaphor than the more concrete target domain. Jäkel (2003, p. 69) provides an example of such a metaphor by Engels: “in the family the man is the bourgeois, the woman represents the proletarian”. Considering the fact that Engels was an unmarried political economist, this sentence is also consistent with the diagram, where we explain the unknown by what is familiar to us. Although facilitation of understanding is a very important function of a conceptual metaphor, it is not the only one. It is worth remembering its focussing function connected with the fact that in metaphor, the source domain provides only a partial explanation of the target domain, thus drawing special attention to some of its aspects, at the same time omitting others. Conceptual metaphor is also characterised by creativity; Quoting Jäkel (2003, pp. 44–45): “in everyday life a metaphor can give a new structure to common thought patterns”. The following study of the connection between the concepts of sleep and death in Italian led me to the conclusion that the direction of metaphorical mapping may be influenced not only by the explanatory function of metaphor but also by its focusing ability and creativity. 135

3.╇Sleep and other states of consciousness During studies on conceptualisations of sleep in Italian I examined its relations with other states of consciousness. In the analysed corpus, the states where there was no reaction to external stimuli were often presented as a kind of sleep. For example sonno invernale that is winter sleep (hibernation) is the torpor some animal species fall into to survive very low temperatures: (1) “Vediamo alcune fasi sorprendenti del sonno invernale di un’orsa.” “We can see some surprising phases of the winter sleep of a she-bear.” (2) “Durante il lungo sonno invernale l’animale vive alle spese del grasso accumulato durante la stagione estiva (…)” “During the long winter sleep the animal lives thanks to the fat accumulated during the summer season (…)” The states of apathy, helplessness, intellectual inertia are also presented as sleep: (3) “Il sonno dei politici lo condannò a morte.” “The sleeping of politicians condemned him to death.” (4) “Il sonno della ragione genera mostri.” “The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters.” But in the analysed corpus of over 120 texts, most often out of all identified states, death was represented as sleep.

3.1╇ Death is a kind of sleep Examples of the conceptualisation of death as a kind of sleep come from very different sources. We can find them both in the epitaph on the tomb of the Italian actor Walter Chiari: (5) “Amici, non piangete, è soltanto sonno arretrato.” “Friends, do not lament, it is only overdue sleep.” and in the discussion on an Internet forum, where one of the answers to the question what is there after death? is: (6) “(…) la morte è un sonno profondo, che ti toglie le cose materiali (…)” “(…) death is a deep sleep, that takes away material things (…)” In Italian death is often euphemistically called sonno eterno, that is eternal sleep: (7) “Quando si è depressi si vede tutto nero, si attende il sonno come una liberazione e spesso si desidera il sonno eterno per trovare quella pace definitiva.” 136

“When you are depressed, you see everything in dark colours, waiting for sleep as release, often dreaming about eternal sleep, to find the ultimate peace in it.” (8) “Stanco e in attesa del sonno eterno.” “Tired and waiting for the eternal sleep.” In accordance with the dictionary definition, also the expression sonno dei giusti that is sleep of the just (in plural) means death: (9) “Il Teatro degli Acerbi ricorda Natale Pia: Natalino riposa, con merito, il sonno dei giusti.” “Theatre of the Bitter remembers Natale Pia: Natalino rests, sleeping the well- deserved sleep of the just.” (10) “Sono convinto che ora Lei sta dormendo il sonno dei giusti e, per questo, spero,credo, che possa, in qualche modo, essere ancora vicino a tutti noi.” “I am convinced that you now sleep the sleep of the just and you can thus, I hope, be in a way still near to us all.” But many Italians use it erroneously, confusing it with the expression sonno del giusto that is sleep of a just man (in singular) which means deep, peaceful sleep: (11) *“Vuoi il sonno dei giusti? Scegli bene il cuscino!” * “Do you want to sleep the sleep of the just? Choose your pillow well!” (12) * “I bambini dormono il sonno dei giusti…” * “Children sleep the sleep of the just.” It is not to be wondered that such a situation often leads to misunderstandings, as when on one of the analysed blogs the author tabelled the picture of her sleeping cat sonno dei giusti and she was very surprised when she started to receive condolences. Another common euphemism for death drawing on the concept of sleep is l’ultimo sonno that is the last sleep: (13) “Nella pace solenne dormono insieme l’ultimo sonno uomini di ogni razza e paese, d’ogni lingua ed età.” “In solemn peace sleep together their last sleep people of every race and homeland, of every language and age.” (14) “(…) il riposo di coloro che dormono quest’ultimo sonno può essere turbato in tutte le maniere.” “(… ) the rest of those who sleep this last sleep may be disturbed in many ways.” Adopting the view that in a conceptual metaphor we explain the less known by what is closer to our experience, the perception of death as a kind of sleep reflected 137

in the above examples is consistent with the basic direction of metaphorical mapping. It may be surprising, however, that the conceptual metaphor with the opposite direction of mapping is also present in the Italian language in such metaphorical expressions as morte temporanea, piccola morte or morte momentanea.

3.2╇Sleep is a kind of death In the studied corpus sleep as morte temporanea, that is temporary death is most often encountered in popular scientific texts and encyclopaedias: (15) “Il dormire può essere associato con l’angoscia di non svegliarsi più, cioè relazionabile alla morte, quella “morte temporanea” come assenza di sè che è il sonno.” “Sleeping may be associated with the fear that there will be no awakening, so it may be connected with death, this “temporary death” as the absence of “self ”, which sleep is.” (16) “Nell’antico Egitto il sonno era concepito come una morte temporanea, ristoratrice e fonte di vita.” “In ancient Egypt sleep was perceived as a temporary invigorating death and the source of life.” In less formal discourse we can more often meet the expression morte momentanea that is momentary death: (17) “Il SONNO pertanto dovrebbe essere l’irruzione della MORTE nella VITA, mentre il SOGNO è la permanenza della “Vita momentanea” durante la “Morte momentanea”.” “Thus SLEEP should be the intrusion of DEATH into LIFE, whereas a DREAM is the presence of “momentary Life” during “momentary Death”.” (18) “Il sonno è per me (…) una piacevole morte momentanea e necessaria che prelude al necessario ritorno tra i vivi.” “Sleep is for me (…) a pleasant and necessary momentary death, which precedes the necessary return to the living.” The metaphor of sleep as the little death that is piccola morte can be found in the lyric vision of Bellezza, who devotes to it one of his poems from the selection “Avversario” (1994): (19) “Il sonno è una piccola morte/richiede commossa pazienza-/attenderlo è sperare/in una resurrezione antica” “Sleep is the little death/requiring affected patience-/to wait for it is to hope/for ancient resurrection” 138

But currently this expression is not limited to the language of poetry and can often be found in articles, blogs or posts on Internet forums: (20)  “Quale potrebbe essere la tua personale definizione del sonno? Una piccola morte, ma che ci fa sentire un po’ dei, visto che resuscitiamo ogni volta.” “What would be your personal definition of sleep? A little death that makes us feel a little like gods, considering that we rise from the dead each time.” (21) “Ma un’insidia si nasconde anche nella non vita del sonno, la piccola morte, che regala il tanto agognato momento in cui si può staccare la spina dalle incombenze quotidiane.” “But there is also a pitfall in the non-life that sleep is, the little death, which gives us this coveted moment when we can unplug ourselves from everyday obligations.” (22) “Vedere che al ritorno da quell’attimo di inconsapevolezza ch’è il sonno (o piccola morte) (…) qualcosa possa essere improvvisamente mutato.”  “To see that having returned from this moment of unconsciousness that sleep (or little death) is (…), something could have suddenly changed.” (23) “Il sonno è il non detto, è il luogo impenetrabile della persona, è una “piccola” morte apparente.” “Sleep is the inexpressible, the mysterious place of each person, it is a “little” seeming death.” (24) “Nella simbologia psicosomatica il sonno è considerato una piccola morte necessaria al corpo e alla mente per rigenerarsi.” “In psychosomatic symbolics sleep is regarded as a little death, necessary for the body and mind to regenerate.” Most of the above examples presenting sleep in terms of death point to the lack of consciousness of the person who is asleep as the principal aspect linking the concepts of sleep and death. At the same time adjectives like momentary/temporary emphasise the main difference between the two states, that is time restriction. It is this difference that may be the reason for which sleep perceived in this way usually does not have negative connotations, so common in the case of conceptualisations of death. Conversely, in many cases, little or momentary death is presented as pleasant, necessary, needed, giving us the coveted rest or a godlike feeling. Example (15) is an exception, because here a less or more conscious conceptualisation of sleep through death leads to insomnia caused by the fear of falling asleep, possibly forever. Descriptions of such cases may be found in texts devoted to psychosomatic disorders, particularly sleep disorders. For example 139

in a book by the psychologist and psychotherapist Andrea Buzzi (2010, p. 43) entitled Paura della morte (Fear of Death), we may read: (25) “Spesso chi ha paura della morte ha difficoltà a dormire. Questo perché il sonno viene associato ad una morte temporanea e soprattutto si sviluppa la paura di non svegliarsi più. (…) Il sonno profondo può sembrarti una morte temporanea ma in realtà serve al tuo organismo per ricaricarsi.” “Often someone who is afraid of death has difficulty sleeping. This is because sleep becomes associated with temporary death and there develops a fear of not waking up. (…) Deep sleep may seem to be temporary death but in fact it helps your body regenerate.” In such cases as the ones presented in examples (15) and (25) the actual projection of the concept of death onto sleep seems to exceed the borders visible on the surface of language (the fear that there will be no awakening is in contradiction to calling sleep a momentary or temporary death). At the same time they confirm the conceptual character of the metaphor sleep is a kind of death as a way of thinking, which in extreme cases may lead to a disorder, such as insomnia.

3.3╇Cultural links between sleep and death The examples presented in sections 3.1. and 3.2 point to the existence of a conceptual metaphor in Italian with a bidirectional projection. Looking for sources of such a relation between the concepts of sleep and death I came to the conclusion that it is not only restricted to the Italian cultural circle. On the contrary, although it does not often manifest itself on the surface of individual languages, it is deeply rooted in European culture: We find it, for example in Greek mythology, where the god of sleep, Hypnos, is the twin brother of Thanatos – the god of death. In German mythology Sleep and Death are siblings as well. The affinity between these two concepts is also present in the Italian proverb, saying that il sonno è parente della morte that is sleep is a relative of death and in many literary texts such as for example a poem by Camillo Sbarbaro (1914), where the lyrical subject addresses sleep as “sweet brother of Death” or “Pan Tadeusz” by Adam Mickiewicz, where “The victors sing, but with a fainter breath,/vanquished soon by sleep, brother of death.” (Book VIII, verse 805). The vision of sleep and death as siblings, particularly twins, points to their proximity and the equality of both concepts. On the other hand, however, looking at the examples from the studied corpus, we may note that both in the Italian proverb and in literary texts, sleep was described as death’s brother and not the 140

other way round. This might suggest the opposite direction of metaphorical mapping than the prototypical one, that is explaining the better known state of sleep by its affinity with the idea of death which is not accessible to direct experience. But it is equally possible that the above situation is analogous with the one that is present in the metaphor sleep is the image of death, where sleep serves the function of a portrait from which we can learn something about the features of the state of death which is unknown to us. Such a vision can be found in classical works, like “The Tusculan Disputations” of Cicero and “The Love Books” of Ovid: (26) “You look on sleep as an image of death, and you take that on you daily; and have you any doubt of there being no sense in death, when you see there is none in sleep, which resembles it?” (27) “Fool! what is sleep but the image of cold Death?” Interestingly, in example (26), sleep, which is the target domain, serves in an explanatory function to death, which is a part of the source domain in the metaphor sleep is an image of death.

3.4╇The unidirectionality hypothesis in the light of the relation between the concepts of sleep and death Evidence for the cultural connection between the concepts of sleep and death, although undeniable, does not explain why in the Italian language not only is death presented as a kind of sleep, but sleep is also presented as a kind of death, contrary to the prototypical direction of metaphorical mapping. I think that this situation may be caused by the close connection between the hypothesis of the unidirectionality of metaphor and its explanatory function. In accordance with the cognitive approach, the explanatory function is the basic feature of a conceptual metaphor and, as Jäkel argues, it has a greater influence on the direction of metaphorical mapping, which is from a better to a less known concept. This hypothesis is confirmed both by Jäkel’s empirical research and also by my own studies of the conceptualisation of other states of consciousness, where I analysed almost 430 texts devoted to the concepts of sleep, dream, meditation and hypnosis. Despite such a big corpus, I have not encountered in my research any similar relationship to the one linking the concepts of sleep and death. So in most cases the hypothesis that the explanatory function of a metaphor has a greater influence on the direction of metaphorical mapping finds confirmation in practice. Let’s assume, however, that there are also metaphors whose basic 141

aim is not to explain the target domain with the source domain: metaphors whose other abilities, like creativity or the focusing function, come to the fore, which would explain the possibility of other direction of mapping than the prototypical one. I think this is the case with metaphorical expressions like sleep is momentary/ temporary death, death is eternal sleep, where the attributes ‘momentary’ and ‘eternal’ accompanying the expressions death and sleep, respectively, being antonyms suggest that only the duration is the feature differentiating sleep from death, and thus focus attention on features regarded as common for these two concepts, like lack of awareness of the “self ” or interest in material matters. In these cases the superiority of the role of this focusing function over the explanatory function is also supported by the fact that it is unlikely that sleep, which is experienced by everyone, is indeed explained by the state of death which is really inaccessible to our direct experience. Results of psychological research confirm this, finding that people who perceive sleep as a kind of death may suffer psychosomatic disorders. Also in the metaphor sleep is a little death the explanatory function serves a secondary function, though the origin of this metaphor in Italian is different than the vision of sleep as momentary/temporary death. Sleep as a little death entered colloquial language from the lyrical text which particularly values the originality of metaphor resulting from its ability to create new connections and where the explanatory function of metaphor is often pushed into the background. Due to the specific character of literary texts one can much more often encounter metaphors with different directions of mapping than in other types of discourse. Usually such metaphors, not being conventional metaphors, are not included in cognitive linguists’ research. However, this changes when these metaphors start to function in everyday language, whitch with the ever easier access to information and culture widely understood, occurs frequently. Then an awareness of where a given metaphor comes from may save the researcher from attributing to it an incorrect role in the theory of metaphor. This conclusion confirms the importance of another postulate of Jäkel, which is that cognitive research into metaphor ought not to omit the diachronic aspect.

4.╇Conclusions To sum up: the examples found in the corpus confirm the bidirectionality of metaphorical mapping of the concepts of sleep and death in the Italian language. The frequency of the metaphor DEATH IS A KIND OF SLEEP confirms that in 142

most cases the direction of metaphorical mapping is from the concept that is better known to the concept that requires explanation. And the existence of the metaphor SLEEP IS A KIND OF DEATH shows the possibility of a different direction of mapping, where the explanatory function of a metaphor yields its superior role to creativity or the focusing function of the metaphor.

References Jäkel, O. (2003). Metafory w abstrakcyjnych domenach dyskursu. Kraków: Universitas. Lakoff, G. & Johnson, M. (1980): Metaphors We Live By. Chicago/London: The University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, G. & Turner, M. (1989). More than Cool Reason: A Field Guide to Poetic Metaphor. Chicago/London: The University of Chicago Press Mickiewicz, A. (2006). Pan Tadeusz or, the Last Foray in Lithuania. Harrow Gate Press (Original work published 1834). Sbarbaro, C. (1914). Pianissimo. Firenze: La Voce. Sweetser, E. (1987). Metaphorical Models of Thought and Speech: A Comparison of Historical Directions and Metaphorical Mappings in the Two Domains. Proceedings of the 13th Annual Meeting. General Session and Parasession on Grammar and Cognition (pp. 446–459). Berkeley, California: Berkeley Linguistic Society.

Sources of examples ╇(1) http://www.watchtower.org/i/20020808/article_01.htm ╇(2) http://www.edinat.it/pdf/Il%20fenomeno%20del%20letargo.pdf ╇ (3) http://archiviostorico.corriere.it/2001/maggio/17/Uno_spazio_per_ teatro_Gianni_co_7_0105176219.shtml ╇ (4) Goya, F. ╇ (5) Chiari, W. ╇ (6) http://it.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080406025119 AAtIyv7 ╇(7) http://www.scrivere.mobi/poesia.php?poesia=78177 ╇(8) http://www.argonauti.it/forum ╇(9) http://www.atnews.it/al-direttore-mob/item/4437 (10) http://www.corriere.it/solferino/montanelli/01-07-23-a/121.spm (11) http://www.muoversinsieme.it/blog/vuoi-il-sonno-dei-giusti-scegli-beneil-cuscino/ 143

(12) http://mammasidiventa.ilcannocchiale.it/?id_blogdoc=2529697 (13) http://www.protestantcemetery.it/itinerario1.htm (14) http://www.fuocosacro.com/pagine/cabala/morte.htm (15) http://www.ipnosifirenze.it/temi/ipnosi_come_terapia_contr.aspx (16) http://www.treccani.it/enciclopedia/sonno/ (17) http://www.riflessioni.it/forum/psicologia/7781-nel-sogno.html (18) http://thesleepers.wordpress.com/2007/12/ (19) Bellezza, D. (1994). Avversario. Milano: Mondadori. (20) http://thesleepers.wordpress.com/category/sleeping-guest-star/ (21) http://www.fastweb.it/portale/canali/per-lui/salute-ed-eros/contenuti/ (22) http://www.cs.unibo.it/~mazzara/ (23) http://almacattleya.blogspot.com/2010/03 (24) http://balbruno.altervista.org/index-1000.html (25) Buzzi, A. (2010). Paura della morte. Roma: Sovera Edizioni. (26) Cicero, M. T. (1824). The Tusculan Disputations. Book I, London: Pickering. Retrieved from http://books.google.com (27) Ovid, (1930). The Love Books. Book II, Biblo & Tannen Publishers. Retrieved from http://books.google.com

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Marek Kuźniak, Jacek Woźny University of Wrocław, Poland

Linguistic Force Dynamics and physics1 Abstract Force Dynamics, one of the crucial frameworks of cognitive linguistics, was developed by Talmy (1976, 1988, 2000) and adopted by, for example, Sweetser (1982, 1991), Johnson (1987), Jackendoff (1990), Chun & Zubin (1990), Brandt (1992), Deane (1992), Achard (1996), Boye (2001), Vandenberghe (2002) and Da Silva (2003). The paper contains a critical scrutiny of Leonard Talmy’s comparison of linguistically coded Force Dynamics and modern physics (Talmy, 2000, pp. 456–459). It is argued that six out of seven ‘differences’ mentioned by Talmy are in fact similarities. We have also found that on of the crucial notions of Talmy’s Force Dynamics- ‘the intrinsic force tendency’ has no counterpart in either pre-Newtonian theories of force (Aristotle, Philoponus) or intuitive (folk) physics, richly accounted for in numerous empirical studies (e.g., Champagne et al., (1980), Larkin et al., (1980), McCloskey (1983), Halloun et al., (1985), Hammer (1995), diSessa (1988, 1993, 1996)) Keywords Conceptual structure; Force Dynamics; naive physics; Newtonian physics

1.╇Overview Leonard Talmy, one of the leading figures of the so-called 2nd generation cognitive linguistics (CL), “has occupied a very eminent place in the history of linguistic research on force since the 80s of the 20th century, when he delivered his famous papers (1985, 1988) on the presence of force in language and cognition. This conception has evolved into a coherent model-theoretic framework called Force Dynamics” (Kuźniak, 2009, p. 180). Force dynamics - viewed as a linguistic category - has gained a lot of attention in the academic circles on account of its applicability to the related disciplines such as sociology or psychology. The key to Talmy’s proposal lies in explicating the problem of how entities interact with force rather than why this interaction is possible: “A semantic category that has previously been neglected in linguistic study is that of force dynamics – how 1 Proofread by Jim Parton.

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entities interact with respect to force. Included here is the exertion of force, resistance to such a force, the overcoming of such a resistance, blockage of the expression of force, removal of such blockage, and the like” (Talmy, 2002, p. 409). The move from the why into the how of the argument is justified, given the philosophical assumptions of CL, where the why leads inevitably to the metaphysical, while the how involves the academic-proper type of intellectual activity. CL in its focus on the how rhetorics of the argument is therefore consistent with the mainstream empirical paradigm of thought of the contemporary scholarly or scientific enterprise. No wonder CL boasts its bottom-up, corpus driven approach to the study of language in its various interdisciplinary manifestations. A quintessential or distinctive element in CL’s empirical program is the focus on the non-expert epistemology as opposed to the expert view of the world, the latter being characteristic of scientifically-oriented undertakings. Sustenance of the tension between such differentiated types of knowledge becomes one of the flagship etiquettes along which CL construes its raison d’être as an approach. Consistently then, the problem of the expert and non-expert conceptualisations becomes methodologically crucial for Talmy’s conception of Force Dynamics – the theme of this article: “The linguistic system, in fact, shows close parallels with the conceptual systems for force interaction both in naive physics and psychology, and in early science, as well as in casual treatments of modern science – though it is often at variance with rigorous modern science” (Talmy, 2002, p. 410). The present paper raises the problem of this apparent divergence of the scientific rigorous mode of thinking from the non-scientific one, seeing it as a modeltheoretic opportunity rather than threat. As a result it proposes an alternative, synergistic (‘conciliatory’) solution where Force Dynamics is argued to be successfully discussed both in terms of non-expert and expert accounts of force interactions with entities. The synergy we postulate here entails reformulating much of Talmy’s argument and should be viewed as elaboration of his original proposal rather than ‘off-hand’ dismissal of the otherwise valuable insight into the encounter between language and physics.

2.╇Linguistic Force Dynamics and naive physics versus modern physics Leonard Talmy (2000, p. 455) states that […] conceptual models within linguistic organization have a striking similarity to those evident in our naive world conceptions, as well as to historically earlier scientific models [….] however, these basic conceptual structures often diverge substantially from the fully rigorous conceptions of contemporary science.

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He then proceeds to enumerate the differences between the linguistically and conceptually manifested Force Dynamics and modern physics (2000, pp. 456–459), taking into account the concepts of: 1. privilege- the fact that one of the participants (the Agonist) has a privileged status, 2. stationariness- action (movement) and rest have unequal status, 3. strength- one of the participants (Agonist or Antagonist) is stronger, 4. schematic reduction – linguistic description of force interaction is simplified and does not include the continuous process but only some stages of it, 5. lack of causality – a form of schematic reduction excluding a cause of the event, 6. blocking, letting, resistance and overcoming- the qualities which, according to Talmy, have no counterparts in physics, 7. tendency- the intrinsic force tendency of the Agonist. The features enumerated in points (1)-(7), according to Talmy, put linguistic Force Dynamics at variance with contemporary physics. In the following sections we will discuss the above seven “points of divergence” and argue that six of them constitute similarities, rather than differences between the two. Let us start with the concept of the privileged position of one of the participants of the forceful interaction.

3.╇ The privileged position of the Agonist In force dynamics, the “Agonist” concept confers on one object in an interaction a privileged status and special characteristics not shared by its opposite, the “Antagonist”, even where these two are otherwise equivalent. While this imparity is so natural in language-based conceptualizing, it has no counterpart in physical theory. There, equivalent objects have the same properties: there is no physical principle for differentiating equivalent objects according to “privilege”. (Talmy, 2000, p. 456)

On the contrary, physics has many ways of focusing attention on one of the participants of the interaction. A typical example is the physical analysis of a falling stone, which in fact involves two participants: the stone (the Agonist) and the planet Earth (the Antagonist) but the second participant is rarely mentioned, despite the fact that the stone pulls the Earth with equal and opposite force and as a result of this interaction the planet also moves (albeit infinitesimally small distance) in the direction of the stone. In addition, one of the most important models, used in many branches of physics (mechanics, wave physics, particle physics, astronomy, etc.), is called harmonic oscillator. An example (an approximation) of a harmonic oscillator can be a pendulum. But when we describe the oscillations of a pendulum (the Agonist) we usually do not mention the other participant of the interaction – the planet Earth. To give one more example, the 147

concept of gravitational or electromagnetic filed2 is a way of focusing attention only on one entity on which a force (field) of unspecified origin acts. Such physical quantities as the intensity of electrostatic or gravitational field, which equal the force acting on a unit of charge or mass at a certain point in space, allow the physicists to focus attention on only one participant (the Agonist) of forceful interaction. We can sum up our discussion so far by stating that the privileged position of the Agonist, i.e. focusing of attention on only one of the participants of interaction, is a feature of both conceptual Force Dynamics and physics. In the next section we will discuss the next point of apparent divergence between Force Dynamics and Physics- the concept of the unequal status of movement and rest.

4.╇ The unequal status of movement and rest Talmy claims that one of the differences between conceptual Force Dynamics and physics lies in the fact that in the latter ‘stationariness is not a distinct state set apart from motion, but is simply zero velocity’ (2000, p. 456). We do not agree with Talmy for several reasons. Firstly, the state of rest in an inertial frame of reference means not only zero velocity but also, for example, zero momentum, zero acceleration and zero resultant force. Secondly, a stationary body (material point) has no trajectory or, more specifically, its trajectory is reduced to a point, as opposed to a moving body, whose trajectory is a 3-dimensional curve. It is true that constant motion and rest have the same status with reference to the absence of resultant force, according to the 1st law of Newtonian Mechanics but Newtonian laws should never be considered in separation from one another because they create a consistent and unified whole. The second law, expressed by Formula 1, can be interpreted as “accelerated motion is always accompanied by Force” thus clearly stating the difference between motion and rest as the presence or absence of a resultant force. Finally, a branch of Mechanics, called Statics, which is so important in the construction of buildings and bridges, deals specifically with the stationary state. The construction engineers, who base their calculations on the physical equations of Statics, would certainly be alarmed if they learned that, according to physics, there is no difference between stationariness and motion. In the next section we will focus on the concept of relative strength of the Agonist and Antagonist in Force Dynamics and physics. 2 the concept of field is the central notion of an important branch of physics called the field theory

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5.╇ The greater relative strength of one of the participants Talmy suggests that the difference between conceptual Force Dynamics and physics lies in the greater strength of one of the participants of forceful interaction over another. Next, consider the linguistic force-dynamic concept of greater relative strength, represented in our diagrams with a plus sign. […] So natural is this linguistic, and perhaps also commonsense conception that it may escaped special attention during our exposition. Yet, it is at variance with one of the more familiar principles of physics, that two interacting objects […] must be exerting equal force against one another. If one of the objects exerted a stronger force […] the pair of object would accelerate in the direction of the force. (2000, p. 456)

Unfortunately, the above quotation represents one of the most common misconceptions concerning the 3rd law of Newtonian Mechanics, which can be expressed by the following formula:   FAB = FBA  (1) The better to understand it, let us imagine two sumo fighters pushing against each other. In accordance with Formula 2, the forces each of them exerts against his or her opponent are equal. If we stopped here, we would have to conclude (like Talmy) that none of them can win. But we have also to take into account that each of the fighters pushes not only against their opponent but also against the ground, which pushes them back with equal force. The stronger fighter exerts a greater force against the ground and wins because the two forces acting on him or her in opposite directions (the reaction of the ground and the force exerted by the other fighter) are not equal. So, as we can see, Newtonian Mechanics does allow us to describe a stronger entity, which allows us to conclude that there is no difference between Force Dynamics and modern physics in this respect. In the next section we will discuss the concept of schematic reduction.

6.╇ Schematic reduction According to Talmy, the conceptual schematisation has no counterpart in physics. For example, the sentence ‘The heat broke the guitar’ describes only the initial and end states3 of what in reality is a very complex process involving a continuum of infinitesimal changes. 3 More specifically, Talmy refers to it as ‘tripartite structure: a static prior state, a discrete state transition, and a static subsequent state’ (2000, p. 457).

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Linguistic structures […] “chunk’’ the complexities and continuities of occurrence into this simplified schema and, in this, may well parallel conceptual patterns of naive physics. In scientific physics, by contrast, causation involves a continuum of interactions occurring at the finest scale of magnitude: there is no operative physical principle of “chunking.’’ (2000, p. 457)

On the contrary, “chunking”, modelling (schematization), macroscopic description, approximating, idealising, and simplifying are standard and essential tools in all branches of physics. The necessity of building idealized models of the physical reality stems from the staggering complexity of the latter. The most general division of physics, reflected in the structure of many university departments, is into experimental and theoretical physics. Theoretical physicists build mathematical, idealized models of reality based on the experimental data, which are then tested further by experimental physicists. Consider, for example, the following set of basic macroscopic physical quantities: area, volume, mass, density, temperature, heat, entropy, pressure, amperage, voltage, electrical resistance, condenser capacitance, luminous intensity and viscosity. All those quantities allow us to discard the microscopic, intricate structure of substances and their division into molecules, atoms, electrons, protons, neutrons, quarks, gluons, muons, neutrinos and the whole zoo of other elementary particles. Even when describing an object as simple as a pulley, the physicists usually assume that the string is weightless and inflexible and the pulley is frictionless. All physical theories (models) contain such simplifying assumptions. To give one more example, one of the basic models of physics is the ideal gas, which consists of non-interacting and randomly moving point-particles but still reflects the properties of real gases quite well under normal temperature and pressure conditions. It may seem, given the ever increasing speed of computer processors, that simplification and modeling will soon no longer be necessary. The fastest supercomputer (AD 2012) has the computing power of about 1016 FLOPS (floating point operations per second) which may be considered impressive until we realize that two grams of molecular hydrogen contain about 1023 molecules, each of which interacts with (1023–1) other molecules. The number of interactions is therefore of 1046 order of magnitude, which makes our supercomputer about 1030 (10000000000000000000000000000000) times too slow to simulate the trajectories of the molecules in two grams of hydrogen. Therefore, physicists have to rely on simplified models, like the aforementioned 19th century4 ideal gas model. 4 The ideal gas model was created by Kronig in 1859 but the macroscopic properties of gasses were quite well researched as early as 17th century by, for example, Robert Boyle, who published his famous law (pV=const.) in 1662.

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Summing up this point of our discussion, schematic reduction, simplification, approximation and modeling constitute the essence of physics and in this respect account rather for similarity and not divergence of conceptual Force Dynamics and physics. In the next section we will discuss a specific form of schematic reduction, namely focusing only on certain stages of an event.

7.╇ Schematic reduction excluding the cause of an event Talmy (2000, p. 458) gives examples of sentences like ‘The book toppled of the shelf ’ or ‘the ball sailed through the window’ to explicate what he claims to be yet another instance of the differences setting Force Dynamics and physics apart. Neither of the two sentences highlights the cause of the movement. We do not know why the book toppled off the shelf or what sent the ball sailing through the window. Talmy considers it to be another form of schematic reduction to which we referred in point 5. In a second form of schematic reduction to which language subjects causality, an “event”- that is, a portion conceptually partitioned out of the continuum of occurrencecan be represented as existing outside of causality altogether. (2000, p. 457)

According to Talmy, it puts the conceptual Force Dynamics in ‘direct contrast with the perspective of physics, in which everything is an unbroken causal continuum’ (2000, p. 457). However, as we already stated when considering points 1. and 5., ‘conceptual partitioning out of the continuum of occurrence’ is an essential method of physics, reflected, for example, in its division into various branches like mechanics, acoustics, electrodynamics, physics of fluids, plasma physics, solid state physics, atomic physics, molecular physics, nuclear physics, particle (high-energy) physics, cryogenics, optics, thermodynamics, etc. Each of those sub-disciplines focuses on different aspects of what Talmy refers to as ‘the continuum of occurrence’. For example, atomic physics concentrates on an atom as an isolated system but does not concern itself with the structure of the atomic nucleus, which is the subject of nuclear physics, or with the way groups of atoms connect into molecules, which in turn is the concern of molecular physics. When electrons leave the structure of the atom, they become the focus of attention of the particle physics. And when the atoms bond into gas, liquid or crystal they come into the scope of the physics of fluids and solid state physics. When the gaseous, liquid or solid state substances are heated, thermodynamics steps in, and when they are cooled to extremely low temperatures- cryogenics. Each of the numerous branches of physics uses a specific set of mathematical 151

models and experimental methods, which are only partially and to different degrees connected with one another. A viable ‘theory of everything’ as theoretical physicists call it, has yet to be constructed. To sum up this point of our discussion, ‘the unbroken causal continuum’ (if it exists) is absent both in the conceptual Force Dynamics and physics. In the next section we discuss the notions of blocking, letting, resistance and overcoming in Force Dynamics and physics.

8.╇ Blocking, letting, resistance and overcoming Talmy claims that the concepts of blocking, letting, resistance and overcoming have no equivalents in physics, because the latter lacks the notion of ‘entityhood’ and intrinsic tendency towards motion or rest. Significantly, some of the most basic force-dynamic concepts- blocking and letting, resistance and overcoming- have no principled counterpart in physics. For their viability, these concepts depend on the ascription of entityhood to a conceptually delimited portion of the spatiotemporal continuum, and on the notion of an entity’s having an intrinsic tendency toward motion or rest. (2000, p. 458)

Talmy then uses a physical example of water in a tank to illustrate his point. For example, the plug in a tank of water can be seen as “blocking’’ flow, and its removal as “permitting’’ flow, only if one conceptualizes the water as a unified entity with tendency toward motion, the space below the plug as an entity that the water has the potential to occupy, and the plug as a unitary entity in between. These concepts of blocking and letting vanish, however, under physics’ fine-structural perspective of individual particles and forces in local interaction. (2000, p. 458)

Let start with the notion of ‘entityhood’, which according to Talmy is absent in physics. We have to admit finding Talmy’s statement rather surprising. The main goal of physics is describing reality, which is populated with objects (entities), and this task would be impossible if the concept of an object (entity) was not present in physical description of the world around us. For example, a fluid (e.g., water in Talmy’s example above) can be described as a macroscopic entity with certain global properties, as the following quotation clearly demonstrates. A fluid, in contrast to a solid, is a substance that can flow. Fluids conform to the boundaries of any container in which we put them. They do so because a fluid cannot sustain a force that is tangential to its surface […] it can, however, exert a force in the direction perpendicular to its surface. (Halliday et al., 2009, p. 359)

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We have collected several other quotations from Halliday et al., (2009)5 to demonstrate how physicists use the notion of ‘entityhood’ and combine it with the concepts of ‘blocking, letting, resistance and overcoming’. The quotations come from various branches of physics, such as mechanics, electrodynamics, electromagnetism, thermodynamics, physics of fluids and nuclear physics. a. the concept of blocking (preventing) During the descent, air was released from tanks to prevent water from flooding the chamber (p. 531) â•… A cylindrical copper rod of length 1.50 m and radius 2.00 cm is insulated to prevent heat loss through its curved surface. (p. 559) â•… The weight W of a body is the magnitude of the net force required to prevent the body from falling freely, as measured by someone on the ground. (p. 95) b. the concept of letting (allowing) When we pull two charged particles of opposite signs away from each other, we say that the resulting electric potential energy is stored in the electric field of the particles. We get it back from the field by letting the particles move closer together again. (p. 811) â•… What is the least coefficient of static friction between the cat and the merrygo-round that will allow the cat to stay in place, without sliding? (p. 134) â•… A pitot tube […] is used to determine the airspeed of an airplane. It consists of an outer tube with a number of small holes B (four are shown) that allow air into the tube. (p. 383) c. the concept of resisting We have assumed that the air through which the projectile moves has no effect on its motion. However, in many situations, the disagreement between our calculations and the actual motion of the projectile can be large because the air resists (opposes) the motion (p. 68) â•… By Lenz’s law, whether you move the magnet toward or away from the loop in Fig. 30–1, a magnetic force resists the motion, requiring your applied force to do positive work. (p. 797) d. the concept of overcoming The force that controls the motions of atomic electrons is the familiar electromagnetic force. To bind the nucleus together, however, there must be a strong 5 Fundamentals of Physics by David Halliday, Robert Resnick and Jearl Walker, used by generations of students, is one of the most popular handbooks of physics, which has already had nine editions and has been recently published in the Kindle (e-book) format.

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attractive nuclear force of a totally different kind, strong enough to overcome the repulsive force between the (positively charged) nuclear protons (p. 1173) â•… We see then that fission will occur only if the absorbed neutron provides an excitation energy En great enough to overcome the barrier. This energy En need not be quite as great as the barrier height Eb because of the possibility of quantum-physics tunneling. (p. 1200) What the above quotations clearly exemplify is the fact that the concepts of ‘entityhood’ as well as the notions of ‘letting, blocking, resistance and overcoming’ are indispensable in physics. In the next section we will focus on what Talmy terms as the intrinsic force tendency of the agonist. This time we will have to agree that, indeed, this crucial feature of Talmy’s Force Dynamics has no counterpart in modern physics. Unfortunately, Talmy is wrong claiming that it correlates in any way with the pre-Newtonian theories of force, especially Aristotelian natural tendencies.

9.╇ The intrinsic force tendency of the Agonist Further, in terms of the cognitive structure of language, an object in a given situation is conceptualized as having an intrinsic force tendency, either toward action or toward rest. This concept appears to correlate with historically earlier scientific theories involving an object’s impetus in motion or a tendency to come to rest. The concept, however, is at considerable variance with modern physics. (Talmy, 2000, p. 456)

First of all, Talmy’s description of forceful interaction does not ‘correlate’ and is in fact contradictory with pre-Newtonian theories of force. The idea that bodies and substances have natural tendencies either toward rest or toward motion comes from Aristotle (4th c. BC), according to whom massive bodies on Earth had a tendency to rest and light bodies (like fire) had a tendency to move upwards. Superficially, it may seem that Talmy’s ‘intrinsic force tendency’, which is either ‘toward rest’ or ‘toward action’, correlates with the theory of Aristotle; however, there is a crucial difference between the two because Aristotle’s natural tendencies are stable, whereas Talmy’s ‘intrinsic force tendencies’ change. For example, Talmy (2000, p. 416) analyses the force-dynamic patterns in the following sentences: a. b. c. d.

The ball kept rolling because of the wind blowing on it. The shed kept standing despite the gale wind blowing against it. The ball kept rolling despite the stiff grass. The log kept lying on the incline because of the ridge there.

The ball and the shed in examples (a) and (b), according to Talmy, have ‘a tendency toward rest’, while the ball and the log in examples (c) and (d) have 154

‘a tendency toward action’, which is contradictory with Aristotle’s idea of natural motion tendencies. For example, the ball, as a massive body on Earth, would always have a tendency to rest, regardless of whether it is propelled by the wind, as in sentence (a), or slowed down by stiff grass, as in sentence (c). Aristotelian concept of the unified and stable tendency of all massive bodies to rest was accepted by all major pre-Newtonian and pre-Galilean theories of force6. For the motion to continue, a force had to be applied to overcome this natural tendency of a massive body on Earth to rest. The concept of impetus was introduced by Philoponus (4th c. AD) but only as an auxiliary theory to Aristotelian physics. Impetus was needed to explain the motion of projectiles. Since all motion was necessarily a forced motion, explaining the apparently free movement of projectiles through air posed a problem because no source of the necessary propelling force could be discerned. Aristotle suggested that the propelling force was exerted by the air displaced by the projectile. Philoponus proposed a different solution. The stone, according to him, carried an internal force, the “impetus”, which propelled it forward against its natural tendency to rest. Philoponus’s theory was later developed by Jean Buridan (14th c. AD). God, when He created the world, moved each of the celestial orbs as He pleased, and in moving them he impressed in them impetuses which moved them without his having to move them any more. And those impetuses which he impressed in the celestial bodies were not decreased or corrupted afterwards, because there was no inclination of the celestial bodies for other movements. Nor was there resistance which would be corruptive or repressive of that impetus. (Clagett, 1959, p. 536)

According to Buridan, the value of impetus equals weight multiplied by velocity, which makes it a counterpart of the Newtonian concept of momentum (mass times velocity). As we can see, impetus is always a propelling force, which again is inconsistent with Talmy’s idea of ‘the intrinsic force tendency’ which is either braking (‘towards rest’) or propelling (‘towards action’). The concept of ‘the intrinsic force tendency’ is therefore inconsistent with either Aristotelian or post-Aristotelian (Philoponus, Buridan) physics. Talmy is also wrong claiming that the concept of impetus is ‘at considerable variance with modern physics’. In fact, the concept is perfectly consistent with

6 One notable exception is the theory of Lucretius (1st c. BC) who claimed that all massive bodies have a tendency to move but, again, it was a stable and unified tendency, which can not therefore be considered as correlating with Talmy’s changing ‘intrinsic force tendencies’.

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Newtonian physics, where, as we have already mentioned above, it is called momentum7. In Newtonian physics a projectile ‘carries momentum’ which can is understood as ‘potential propelling force’ because the second law of Newtonian Mechanics can be formulated as    dp  (2) F = ma = dt which means that force equals change of momentum in a unit of time8. The momentum (impetus) carried by a moving body will manifest itself as a propelling force, whose magnitude and direction is given by Formula 1, opposing the braking force (for example, friction). So Philoponus and Buridan, writing about impetus, were expressing basically the same idea as Newton- impetus (momentum) is a kind of propelling force, which will manifest itself as reaction to the braking force. In fact, Aristotelian natural motion tendency is also consistent with Newtonian physics, because Newton would not deny that all massive bodies on Earth eventually come to rest so, in a way, they have a tendency to rest. What sets Newtonian and Aristotelian description of motion apart is not the concept of the tendency to rest, both Newton and Aristotle would agree that this is the case, but the matter of causation. Aristotle would ascribe it to a natural tendency, while Newton to external braking force; however, neither of them would agree with Talmy that massive bodies on earth have a tendency to either rest or motion (action). Natural motion tendency is also described in modern literature on intuitive (folk) physics (e.g., Champagne et al., (1980), Larkin et al., (1980), McCloskey (1983), Halloun et al., (1985), Hammer (1995), diSessa (1988, 1993, 1996)). DiSessa mentions what he calls a phenomenological primitive of ‘Dying away: lack of motion or activity is the natural state of inanimate objects. Any induced action or motion naturally fades, unless the agent of induction continues (as in force as mover)’ (1996, p. 720); however, as we can see, it is a clear counterpart of the Aristotelian stable, one-directional motion tendency of all massive bodies to rest and is therefore inconsistent with Talmy’s binary notion of intrinsic force tendency which can be either toward rest or toward action. Let us look again at examples (a)–(d). The ball in example (a) has ‘a tendency toward rest’ when it is pushed by the wind but a ‘tendency toward action (motion)’ 7 Galileo, whose theory of Dynamics is fully consistent with Newton’s still used the word “impetus”. 8 In fact, the differential vector Formula (1) carries more information, but it can be read in this simplified way when the motion is linear.

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when it is obstructed by stiff grass. What is the justification of calling those tendencies ‘intrinsic’ when they seem to depend on external conditions? What would be the ‘intrinsic force tendency’ of the ball in the following sentence: ‘The ball kept moving despite the stiff grass because of the wind.’? The ball would have to display the two tendencies simultaneously. Let us move to examples (b) and (d). The shed is wedged against the ground (through its foundations) just as the log is wedged against the ridge and therefore they both stand still despite the wind (the shed) or despite gravity (the log) and because of the foundations (the shed) or because of the ridge (the log). Why then should the shed have an ‘intrinsic tendency toward rest’ and the log an ‘intrinsic tendency toward action’? Summing up our remarks concerning the intrinsic force tendency of the Agonist, we have to conclude that this idea is inconsistent with either Newtonian, pre-Newtonian or intuitive (folk) physics, especially the Aristotelian concept of natural motion tendencies and the Philoponian concept of impetus. Talmy is also wrong claiming that the latter is at odds with modern physics. Furthermore, Talmy’s notion of ‘intrinsic force tendency’ is not only inconsistent externally with either naïve or Newtonian physics but also internally (within Talmy’s formalism).

10.╇ Summary and Conclusion In Sections 3–8 we have argued that six of the seven conceptual categories enumerated in Section 2 characterize not only conceptual Force Dynamics but also physics. Having considered the notions of privilege (focusing on the Agonist), stationariness, relative strength, schematic reduction (including lack of causality), entityhood, blocking, letting, resistance and overcoming, we had to conclude that all of them constitute a set of similarities, rather than differences between conceptual Force Dynamics and physics. In section 9 we established that, although the notion of natural motion tendency and impetus (momentum) are present in pre-Newtonian, physics and have their counterparts in modern physics, they are contradictory with Talmy’s idea of changing intrinsic force tendency. Additionally, the latter is not accounted for in the rich body of empirically based9 modern literature on intuitive (folk)

9 For example, diSessa (1993) based his conclusions on approximately twenty-one thousand hours of interviews with MIT undergraduate students, carried over the period of three years.

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physics, sometimes referred to collectively as misconceptions studies or even disaster10 studies. Therefore, we have to conclude that Talmy in his comparison of linguistic force dynamics and physics fails to prove that our ‘naive world conceptions’ evident in language diverge from the ‘rigorous conceptions of contemporary science’ (2000, p. 455). Furthermore, We believe that Talmy is correct in claiming that ‘conceptual models within linguistic organization have a striking similarity to those evident in our naive world conceptions, as well as to historically earlier scientific models’ (ibid.); however, especially in view of our argument in Section 9, Talmy’s account of linguistic Force Dynamics needs to be thoroughly reviewed and reformulated to ascertain that it is indeed fully consistent with intuitive (folk) physics manifested in language.

References Achard, M. (1996). French modals and speaker control. In Goldberg, Adele (Ed.), Conceptual Structure, Discourse and Language. Stanford, CA.: CSL&I. Boye, K. (2001). The Force-Dynamic core meaning of Danish modal verbs. Acta Linguistica Hafniensia, 33, 19–66. Brandt, Per A. (1992). La charpente modale du sens: Pour une simio-linguistique morphogenitique et dynamique. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Champagne, A. B., Klopfer, L. E., & Anderson, J. H. (1980). Factors influencing the learning of classical mechanics. American Journal of Physics, 48, 1074–1079. Chun, Soon Ae & D. A. Zubin. (1990). Experiential vs. Agentive Constructions in Korean Narrative. Proceedings of the Berkeley linguistics Society 16, 81–93. Clagett, M. (1959). Science of Mechanics in the Middle Ages. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Deane, P. (1992). Polysemy as the consequence of internal conceptual complexity: the case of over. Proceedings of the Eastern States Conference on Linguistics (ESCOL), 9, 32–43. diSessa, A. A. (1988). Knowledge in pieces. G. Forman & P. Pufall (Eds.). Constructivism in the Computer Age. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, 49–70.

10 The term refers to the robust resilience of folk physics based knowledge to formal instruction.

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diSessa, A. A. (1993). Toward an epistemology of physics. Cognition and Instruction, 10 (2–3), 105–225. diSessa, A. A. (1996). What do “just plain folk” know about physics? D. R. Olson & N.Torrance (Eds.), The Handbook of Education and Human Development: New Models of Learning, Teaching, and Schooling. Oxford: Blackwell, 709–730 Goddard, C. (1998). Semantic Analysis: A Practical Introduction. New York: Oxford University Press. Halliday, D., R. Resnick & J. Walker. (2009). Fundamentals of Physics. Glenview Il.: Pearson Education. Halloun, I. A., & Hestenes, D. (1985). The initial knowledge state of college physics students. American Journal of Physics, 53, 1043–1056. Hammer, D. (1995). ‘Student inquiry in a physics class discussion’. Cognition and Instruction, 13, 401–430. Jackendoff, R. (1990). Semantic structures. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. Johnson, M. (1987). The Body in the Mind: The Bodily Basis of Meaning, Imagination and Reason. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Kuźniak, M. (2009). Foreign Words and Phrases in English. Metaphoric Astrophysical Concepts in Lexicological Study. Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego. Lakoff, G. & R. Núñez. (2000). Where Mathematics Comes From: How the embodied Mind Brings Mathematics into Being. New York: Basic Books Larkin, J., McDermott, J., Simon, D., & Simon, H. A. (1980). Expert and novice performance in solving physics problems. Science, 208, 1135–1142. McCloskey, M. (1983). Naive theories of motion. D. Gentner & A. Stevens (Eds.), Mental Models. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc., 299–324 Silva, A. S. da. (2003). Image schemas and category coherence: the Case of the Portuguese Verb deixar. In H. Cuyckens, R. Dirven & J. Taylor (Eds.), Cognitive Approaches to Lexical Semantics, 281–322. Sweetser, E. (1991). From Etymology to Pragmatics: Metaphorical and Cultural Aspects of Semantic Structure. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sweetser, E. (1982). A proposal for uniting deontic and epistemic modals. In Proceedings of the Eighth Annual Meeting of the Berkeley Linguistics Society. Berkeley, Calif.: Berkeley Linguistics Society. 159

Talmy, L. (1976). Semantic causative types. The grammar of causative constructions. In M. Shibatani (Ed.), Syntax and Semantics, Vol. 6. New York: Academic Press, 43–116. Talmy, L. (1985). Force dynamics in language and thought. In W. H. Eilfort, P. D. Kroeber, & K. L. Peterson (Eds.), Papers from the Parasession on Causatives and Agentivity at the Twenty-First Regional Meeting of the Chicago Linguisitc Society. Chicago: Chicago Linguistic Society, 293–337. Talmy, L. (1988). Force Dynamics in Language and Cognition. Cognitive Science 12, 49–100. Talmy, L. (2000). Toward a Cognitive Semantics. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Talmy, L. (2002). Toward a Cognitive Semantics. Vol. I: Concept structuring systems. Cambridge: MIT Press. Vandenberghe, W. (2002). Instigative Setting-Constructions: Force Dynamic Research on ‘New’ Types of Agency. Leuvense Bijdragen, 90, 4, 365–390.

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Katarzyna Kwapisz-Osadnik University of Silesia, Poland

The notion of prototype in linguistics and didactics, revisited1 Abstract The term prototype became a subject of discussion and contributed to the formation of many research concepts. The synthetic discussion on definitions of prototype will constitute the first part of the presentation, whose purpose is to show its influence in teaching FL. Traditional teaching of grammatical categories is based on the gradual introduction of the information, starting from the so called prototypical uses. Taking into consideration properties of the human mind, it proves to be ineffective since it limits the learning of other, less prototypical uses. The experiment conducted in a Silesian high school involves the uses of the French passé composé tense, introduced first in the traditional and then in holistic teaching, and seems to confirm the abovementioned hypothesis. Keywords prototype linguistics; didactics; holistic teaching; grammar

1.╇Introduction Each field of science and each new theory in a specific study is characterized by its own appropriate terminology which serves to explain a given phenomenon and contributes to the understanding of the researcher’s work. The same situation occurs in the field of linguistics if we concentrate on the stages of the evolution of linguistic thought in order to see the variety of the terms introduced to describe the language, and which frequently refer to the same phenomenon or problem. As a branch of contemporary linguistics, cognitive linguistics has also introduced a number of new terms, especially due to its interdisciplinary character, which accounts for the occurrence of terms borrowed from other fields, with frequently modified or completely changed definitions. The notion of prototype is one such term and we will concentrate on this term in the present work. In the first part we will synthetically discuss various definitions of the term, which

1 Proofread by David Schauffler.

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will give us an overall view of its current status in the field of linguistics. The second part will be devoted to the reflection of the role of prototype in the teaching of foreign languages, based on the argument that teaching with reference to the prototype has negative effects and as a result has a deterrent influence on speaking the language fluently.

2.╇ Prototype in Linguistics In the 1980s and 1990s much was written on the prototype. Many researchers referred to its role in the description of language (compare Givòn, 1986; Geeraerts, 1988; Kleiber, 1990; Taylor, 1995, 2007; Grzegorczykowa, 1998; Habrajska, 1998). Let us summarize the most important information about the prototype: 1. It is a term taken from the field of psychology, understood in relation to the ways of categorizing reality and organizing data (compare Rosch, 1973, 1975; Dubois, 1983). From the very beginning it has caused controversy, even among the authors of the term, who have suggested replacing it with the notion of prototype continuum (compare Rosch, 1978), and in the field of linguistics the prototype is known as prototypical effect (compare Lakoff, 1987) or the area of the experience of a certain order evoked by a given language form (compare Fillmore, 1975). Unfortunately, attempts to replace or modify the term were unsuccessful and the term prototype is still used, which on one hand testifies to its pioneer significance in science, but on the other hand explains the semantic fuzziness of the notion, although it is undeniable that prototype is analyzed on the surface, that is, through the use of a given language form or semantic value. 2. Since language is one of the ways of recognizing reality and the storing of information in memory, prototype became an important linguistic term, which not only had many definitions - extensional, intensional, as an effect of the variation of meanings (compare Nowakowska-Kempna, 1995), standard version, extended version - but also became an inspiration to anthropological reflection on cognitive universalism, which in turn inspired an ongoing discussion about universalities, cognitive primitives, semantic invariants and the disambiguation possibilities of meanings (compare Desclés, 1990, 2005; Banyś, 2005), and also caused revision of the definition of the semantic feature, and especially the distinction between inherent (necessary) features and afferent features, which are conditioned socially or contextually, that is, are based on the stereotypes and knowledge about the world of the users of a given language; they have an important, central and prototypical character (compare Wierzbicka, 1999; Jackendoff, 1983; Rastier, 1987). 162

I think that linguistically the most convincing definition of the prototype – although raising other questions – is that suggested by J.-P. Desclés (1997) since it enables us to distinguish between the linguistic and the conceptual at the virtual level, which as a result introduces a clear-cut boundary between the usage and the term, understanding the term as a certain fragment of knowledge about the world stored in the long-term memory, having an imaginary, more or less figurative shape and often encompassing language elements. As a result, the term (concept, idea) would have a certain schematic structure, based on cognitive and semantic, that is, linguistic, data whose particular elements are activated selectively at the moment of perception and conceptualization, finally taking the form of a sentence. The terms are interconnected with each other and create categories which are ordered according to cognitive domains with various cognitive-semantic elements. The frequency of the usage in turn enables us to distinguish prototypical values, which are remembered the fastest and which are retrieved from memory the most efficiently at the moment of categorization. In short, processing data is based on perception, categorization, conceptualization (that is, imaging in Langacker’s terms) and on grammaticalization – but the cognitive definition of grammaticalization does not correspond to the original meaning coined in linguistics, as it was defined by J. Meillet (1921) and J. Kuryłowicz (1968). In the cognitive paradigm grammaticalization is the process of more or less conscious choosing of linguistic units, both lexical and grammatical, which in the speech event are supposed to reconstruct the way in which the fragment of reality was perceived and conceptualized (compare Kwapisz-Osadnik, 2009). In our further discussion, we will refer to the following definition of prototype by J.-P. Desclés & Banyś (1997): “[…] it is the form or value of a given category, most frequently used by the users of a given language” (27).

3.╇ Prototype in Didactics If we take into account the role of prototype in the process of categorization, it turns out to be useful in the identification and interpretation of data coming from perception. Indeed, categorization occurs through prototypes or schemes (compare Langacker, 1995); however, in his later works R. Langacker (2003, 2009), does not use the term prototype any more. The point is here to decide which is the dominant process - comparison or schematization - when information is being assigned to a category. Prototype understood as the most frequent use of the language unit referring to a given category turns out to be useful in cognitive processes since, as we 163

mentioned before, we conceptualize through naming or through referring to the value or function with the highest frequency of use. For instance, for the category DOG, the lexeme dog is prototypical since this is the way we usually refer to entities which have the characteristics of dogs, although we have other expressions at hand, such as quadruped, animal, dachshund, puppy, bitch. For the category of the present tense, the temporal value of the speech event constitutes the prototypical value (such as in expressions: it is raining, I have time, what are you doing?, I think you are right) but this category has many other values, for instance historical value (Napoleon dies on the island of Saint Helena in 1821), generic value (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree), narrative value, prospective value (I’m going on holiday tomorrow) or deontic value (You finish your game and you go to wash) (compare Kwapisz-Osadnik, 2009, pp. 161–171). The denomination would be based on encyclopedic knowledge, and the functional approach, or grammatical approach, is rather associated with the knowledge through linguistic definition (compare Wierzbicka, 1985). According to research in the field of psychology, prototype is associated with the basic level of our knowledge about the world, since a human being organizes information in categories, which are in turn ordered on the basis of the inclusiveness on three levels: higher level categories, basic level categories and lower level categories (compare Rosch, Mervis, Gray, Johnson and Boyes-Braem, 1976). Higher level categories include categories of the most general features; basic level categories are the most inclusive in the sense that they include both higher and lower level features; and the lower level includes categories of a high degree of specification. Basic level categories are characterized by: 1. the holistic form (gestalt), that is, they possess the features of higher and lower level categories; 2. imagery, that is, the possibility of reflecting the whole category through the mental image; 3. the highest degree of informativity; 4. the highest degree of identification of entities, which means that we identify entities the fastest which resemble the mental image of the basic level categories; 5. neutral context; 6. the highest distinctness as far as remembering the category is concerned (compare Kleiber, 1990, pp. 84–87). The information given above is important if we assume that in a natural way we learn through prototypes. However, when learning at school, using prototypes might considerably limit students’ cognitive activities, since a once remembered form of the highest frequency of use leads to the following consequences: 1. unwillingness to increase lexical and grammatical knowledge; 2. lack of certainty as to the usage of the lexemes and grammatical values which are less prototypical, that is, those which are used less frequently; 3. in the case of learning foreign languages, problems with translation, understanding and production 164

in a given language. In other words, teaching and learning based on prototype understood as intuitively the most frequent form or value of a given language category turns out to be a deterring factor for the increase of the knowledge and fluency of language use. With a view to verifying the above mentioned hypothesis about difficulties in teaching based on prototypical usages, I conducted a pilot study in a Silesian high school based on the comparison of three lessons devoted to the passé composé tense in French in two experimental groups – in the first group the classes were conducted traditionally, that is, the grammatical category was discussed on the basis of the prototypical use; while in the second group we used the strategy of holistic teaching, that is, teaching based on the schema which encompasses all the usages of the introduced category. The project of the holistic teaching of grammar was created under the influence of the assumptions of cognitive linguistics, which treats a language in an inextricable relation to the cognitive processes of human beings. In this approach, language, apart from memory, planning, the ability to solve problems, general knowledge and the ability to recognize contexts, is only one of the components of the so called language resources (compare Langacker, 2003). Linguistic categories, as a part of our general knowledge about the world, are subject to the same processes and description as conceptual categories (it is often difficult to separate the conceptual and the linguistic). As a result, linguistic categories are stored in memory in schematic form, so they are spatial, imagery and ordered structures of a various number of cognitive-semantic values which correspond to particular functions, and the usage is the result of processing data and grammaticalization according to the abovementioned meaning. J.-P. Desclés (1990, 2003) proposes the term cognitive-semantic schema for the description of conceptual categories, including linguistic categories. A very important element of the cognitive description of the categories is the formula of their semantic invariant – this formula is supposed to be compatible with all the values, functions and use of a given category. The semantic invariant may prove to be very useful in the teaching of grammar since it enables us to understand and differentiate various categories, for instance tenses or moods in the same language contexts, which reflect various ways of perception and the conceptualization of reality by the users of a given language, for instance: I’m taking a holiday in two days/I will take a holiday in two days/I would take a holiday in two days. In the second group the discussion of passé composé tense will be based on a holistic description of, and the attempt to create the formula of, the semantic invariant. 165

I now describe the procedure of the given lesson units in both groups: The First Group – Traditional Lesson 1: 1. introduction of the grammatical category passé composé – explaining to the students what tense it is and what its role is in comparison with Polish past perfective tense; 2. description of the forms of the given tense, with exercises on forms; 3. focusing on the past participle in particular cases, listing these cases, doing exercises. Lesson 2: 1. revision of the material from the previous lesson – exercises on forms; 2. discussion of the basic (prototypical) use of the past perfective activity; 3. exercises based on the translation of sentences and completing sentences with the verbs in the correct form of the passé compose, transforming sentences from the present tense into passé composé, transforming short texts and construction of students’ own sentences, on the subject of for instance, my day yesterday, my last holiday. Lesson 3: 1. revision of the material in form of exercises; 2. doing exercises on all the tenses which have been introduced. The Second Group – Experimental Lesson 1: 1. explanation of the tense passé composé and its role in French (at this moment the teacher concentrates on the prototypical value and the use of the introduced tense); 2. stressing that the form of the verb in a given tense does not only include information about the time (we are not talking about real time, but about the temporal vision of the speaker), but also about the aspect and giving the actualizing value in an imagined situation. This means that the speaker imagines a situation as finished – the past dimension, but also as current in his/her world, so the speaker is either a participant in a situation or is an observer or feels the consequences of the activity in the present (here we deal with the resultative state); 3. introduction of the forms of passé composé on the basis of ready-made sentences – students attempt to describe the schema of creating a given category by themselves; 166

4. explaining the use of the auxiliaries based on the historical function of the tense, which was the expression of the resultativeness; 5. attempt to order the past participle forms; 6. assigning homework on forms. Lesson 2: 1. checking homework and revision of the material; 2. introduction of all the uses of passé composé in the form of the schema – surprising information influences the function of the brain and as a result, memory. Proposal of a schema for the category passé composé (the prototypical use, that is, completion of the action, was not marked on purpose): Figure 1: Cognitive and semantics schema for the category passé compose WKHSDVWWKHSUHVHQW WKHIXWXUH DFWXDOL]LQJYDOXH UHVXOWDWLYHVWDWH QDUUDWLRQ

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3. explanation of the uses based on ready-made sentences – the teacher explains in what way a speaker of French conceptualizes the situation, which he/she later expresses in passé composé, for instance for completion of the action: J’ai habité cette maison après mon mariage (I occupied this house after the wedding)/J’ai habité à Paris pendant trois ans (I lived in Paris for three years)/ Elle a été présidente de la banque à l’âge de 35 ans (She became a bank president at the age of 35)/Elle a été couturière de dix-huit ans à vingt-six ans (She was a dressmaker from the age of 18 until the age of 26). It is necessary to pay attention to aspectual differences imposed by the language systems of French and Polish – the same form in French can be translated into Polish by the past perfective tense and the past imperfective tense. It is also necessary to explain the temporal location of the conceptualized situation in the present through its resultativeness/completion, for instance Maintenant que vous avez fini de lire, nous pouvons passer à la discussion/Cela a été très bon/Je me 167

suis cassé la jambe, and in the future, for instance Nous sommes arrivés dans 5 minutes/J’ai bientôt fini. This sense of completion is realized in the narration and in expressing frequency, for instance Il a marché 30 jours et 30 nuits/Je t’ai appelé 3 (plusieurs) fois mais personne ne répondait/Longtemps je me suis levé de bonne heure; 4. proposal of the reconstruction of the schema as a form of recapitulation. Lesson 3: 1. revision of the material by comparing schemas made by students; 2. doing gap exercises, translation and transformation, including exercises based on choosing the right tense. The exercises may have the form of separate sentences and also ready-made, short texts. Observing the course of the lesson, one could note that in the experimental group the interest in the material was higher – this is the result of going further from the school routine. After two months the teacher conducted a control test on all the tenses, which included the examples selected by me on the less prototypical uses of the passé composé tense. The result was predictable – the students from the experimental group scored higher than the students from the traditional group.

4.╇Conclusion Although the notion of the prototype does not inspire so much interest any more – it seems that the problem has been described and analyzed well enough to consider it an exhausted topic - I think that the proposed revision of the phenomenon, especially from the point of view of didactics, can introduce a refreshing outlook upon the linguistic terminology and remind us what questions of a methodological nature a researcher copes with, especially at the beginning of his/her career. The many proposed definitions for one term causes criticism and confusion and increases the terminological chaos on one hand, but on the other hand forces us to undertake deeper, individual reflection on cognitive models in cognitive linguistics. Such multidimensional, interdisciplinary knowledge about the human cognition through the structure and functioning of the language understood as a cognitive process can also be used in teaching foreign languages – almost every linguist also deals with didactics. The prototype serves as an example, which from the didactic point of view is a deterrent factor for acquiring knowledge. It should be stressed that teaching through the prototype, and thus concentrating on the form or value of a given lexical or grammatical category of the highest frequency of use, although it seems natural 168

(this is the way a human being organizes knowledge about the world), in the case of teaching lowers effectiveness, since the prototypical uses which are remembered once and which are sufficient from the point of view of communication block willingness to increase knowledge, negatively influence the mind for acquiring other forms, values and uses, and as a result impede communicative fluency in the foreign language and the understanding of written texts (in which there are less prototypical uses). In short, a student has difficulty understanding a coded piece of information in a non-prototypical form; what is more, he/ she is unable to make use of these forms. Thus I think it is necessary to modify this form of teaching, give students greater intellectual freedom during lessons, and use other cognitive abilities, such as global perception of reality and image memory (remembering data in the form of image schema), but most of all it is necessary to attempt to teach through surprise – the interested brain remembers information faster and more effectively.

References Banyś, W. (2005, December). Désambiguïsation des sens des mots et représentation lexicale du monde. Neophilologica, 17, 57–76. Desclés, J.-P. & Banyś, W. (1997). Dialogue à propos des invariants du langage. Studia kognitywne, 2, 70–76. Desclés, J.-P. (1990). Langages applicatifs, langues naturelles et cognition. Paris: Hermès. Desclés, J.-P. (2003). Une classification aspectuelle des schèmes sémanticocognitifs. Studia kognitywne, 5, 53–71. Desclés, J.-P. (2005, December). Représentations cognitives opérées par les langues. Neophilologica, 17, 17–42. Dubois, D. (Ed.). (1983). Sémantique et cognition. Paris: CNRS Editions. Fillmore, C. J. (1975). An alternative to checklist theories of meaning. In; C. Cogen, H. Thompson, G. Thurgood, K. Whistler, & J. Wright (Eds.), Proceedings of the First Annual Meeting of the Berkeley Linguistics Society (pp. 123– 131). Berkeley: Berkeley Linguistic Society. Geeraerts, D. (1988, December). Prototypicality as a Prototypical Notion. Communication and Cognition, 20, 343–355. Givòn, T. (1986). Prototypes: Between Plato and Wittgenstein. In C. Craig (Ed.), Noun Classes and Categorization (pp. 77–102). Amsterdam & Philadelphia: John Benjamins. 169

Grzegorczykowa, R. (1998). O rozumieniu prototypu i stereotypu we współczesnych teoriach semantycznych. In J. Anulewicz & J. Bartmiński (Eds.), Stereotyp jako przedmiot lingwistyki (Język a kultura, Vol. 12, pp. 109–116). Wrocław: Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Polonistyki Wrocławskiej. Habrajska, G. (1998). Prototyp – stereotyp – metafora. In J. Anulewicz & J. Bartmiński (Eds.), Stereotyp jako przedmiot lingwistyki (Język a kultura, Vol. 12, pp. 116–124). Wrocław: Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Polonistyki Wrocławskiej. Jackendoff, R.S. (1983). Semantics and Cognition. Cambridge: MIT Press. Kleiber, G. (1990). La sémantique du prototype. Paris: PUF. Kuryłowicz, J. (1968). O rozwoju kategorii gramatycznych. Kraków: PAN. Kwapisz-Osadnik, K. (2009). Un verbe français dans un cadre cognitif. Katowice: UŚ. Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fire and Dangerous Thinks. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Langacker, R. (1987). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R. (1995). Wykłady z gramatyki kognitywnej. Lublin: UMCS. Langacker, R. (2003). Model dynamiczny oparty na uzusie językowym. In E. Dąbrowska & W. Kubiński (Eds.), Akwizycja w świetle językoznawstwa kognitywnego (pp. 30–114). Kraków: Universitas. Langacker, R. (2009). Gramatyka kognitywna. Wprowadzenie. Kraków: Universitas. Meillet, J. (1921). Linguistique historique et linguistique générale. Paris: Champion. Nowakowska-Kempna, I. (1995). Konceptualizacja uczuć w języku polskim. Warszawa: WSP. Raster, F. (1987). Sémantique interprétative. Paris: PUF. Rosch, E. (1973). Natural Categories. Cognitive Psychology, 4, 328–350. Rosch, E., & Mervis C.B. (1975). Family resemblances: studies in the internal structure of categories. Cognitive Psychology, 7, 573–601. Rosch, E.H., Mervis, C.B., Gray, W.D., Johnson, D.M. & Boyes-Braem, P. (1976). Basic objects in natural categories. Cognitive Psychology, 8, 382–439. Rosch, E. (1978). Principles of Categorization. In E. Rosch, B. Lloyd (Eds.), Cognition and Categorization (pp. 27–48). Hillsdale: L.Erlbaum Ass. 170

Taylor, J.R. (1995). Linguistic Categorization. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Taylor, J.R. (2007). Gramatyka kognitywna. Kraków: Universitas. Wierzbicka, A. (1985). Lexicography and Conceptual Analysis. Aroma: Ann Arbor. Wierzbicka, A. (1999). Język – umysł – kultura. Warszawa: PWN.

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Aleksandra Majdzińska Uniwersytet Łódzki, Poland

Using cognitive tools in analysing variant construals: the remakes of “The Scream” by Edvard Munch Abstract One of the best known 20th century paintings, Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” was created as a result of a fleeting impression and is described as representing anxiety, terror, and the feeling of despair (Kaczorowski 2010: 179). Its expressive properties are enhanced by colours, rhythmic wavy lines and vanishing perspective (ibid.). The painting has become an inspiration for numerous amusing remakes, parodies, cartoons etcetera. The spoofs draw on different elements of the original or introduce new ones, and give rise to different associations and readings. In the paper I will attempt to examine some cases of such variant construals of the painting (especially in the form of cartoons, containing an additional verbal component) and I will determine whether it is possible to analyse the remakes approaching this topic from the point of view of cognitive linguistics by employing its terminological apparatus. I believe cognitive linguistic theory is ideally suited for such an exploration, since one of its main assumptions is that the same objective situation may lead to many different conceptualisations, and consequently may be realized in many different ways. In order to analyse this visual and visuo-verbal material I will apply Langacker’s (1987, 1991, 1999, 2008) notion of the aspects of imagery. Since some of the remakes are undoubtedly highly creative structures, it is also important to mention in their analysis such devices as metaphor, metonymy, and the concept of blending (compare Fauconnier and Turner, 2002). Keywords Munch, imagery; perspective; metonymy; intertextuality; spoofs; remakes

1.╇Introduction “The Scream” (1893) – one of the most famous expressionist paintings – is often described as representing anxiety, terror, and the feeling of despair. Its expressive 173

properties are enhanced by colours, rhythmic wavy lines and vanishing perspective (Kaczorowski, 2010, p. 179). It was inspired by Munch’s experience, which he described in his diary: “One evening I was walking along a path, the city was on one side and the fjord below. I felt tired and ill. I stopped and looked out over the fjord—the sun was setting, and the clouds turning blood red. I sensed a scream passing through nature; it seemed to me that I heard the scream. I painted this picture, painted the clouds as actual blood. The color shrieked. This became The Scream.” (Sousa, 2013). Zoltan Kövesces has pointed out (2003, p. 1) that the expression of emotions tends to be highly figurative, dominated by metaphorical and metonymic imagery. In Munch’s description of his experience, nature is personified. The whole landscape seems to be screaming with terror, and the mention of blood (“tongues of fire and blood/the sky turned as red as blood”) also evokes the scenario of some living creature being killed. The figure in the painting may be interpreted as a self-portrait of Munch, since he describes his own experience as the source of his inspiration; for this reason his facial expression and the gesture of covering his ears stand metonymically for his feeling of fear, which he mentions in his description. We can learn from the artist’s diaries (The Private Journals of Edvard Munch: We Are Flames Which Pour Out of the Earth) that he suffered from depression and mental problems (Munch, 1863/2005, pp. 18–19). Everything in the painting reflects this background anxiety, nervousness, uneasiness, and panic. All in all – “The Scream” is truly a sad and depressing work. In my paper, however, I will examine some parodies and humorous transformations of this painting (especially in the form of cartoons, which contain an additional verbal component). I would like to determine whether it is possible to analyse such remakes approaching this task from the point of view of cognitive linguistics and employing some of its terminological apparatus. I believe cognitive linguistic theory is ideally suited for such an exploration, since one of its main interests is analyzing different mental construals of the same objective situation. Although multimodal forms of expression (in this case bimodal) are not the prime interest of cognitive linguistics, they have been studied by such cognitivist researchers as, for example, Forceville (2006, 2009), Tabakowska (2006, 2010, 2013), or Kwiatkowska (2009, 2013). Those forms deserve the attention of linguists since, as Kwiatkowska points out (2011, p. 313), both cognitive linguistics and pictorial semiotics are “based on similar assumptions, and driven by similar concerns.” It can be argued that the remakes presented in this paper are of two kinds: (1) The new picture puts the original screaming figure within a different scenario (most often down-to-earth, trivial, petty or ridiculous), which is signalled 174

metonymically by certain elements of the setting. Putting the figure associated with some high/philosophical notions, such as the existential fear in such context produces a certain clash, or a grotesque effect and makes the cartoons amusing. (2) The spoof is based on the original background of the painting, but introduces a new figure (resembling the original one to a greater or lesser extent). Here, the scenario is less discernible, since the background possibilities are restricted. It should be pointed out that most of the cartoons in both categories employ such devices as metonymy, exaggeration, and intertextuality/allusion. In fact, all of the examples of parody may be treated as intertextual (and at the same time, as instances of conceptual integration), because they involve an interaction between two texts of culture (which may be viewed as mental spaces) – the original and the remake. In the following sections, I would like to focus on certain devices that can be observed within the cartoons.

2.╇Metonymy The spoofs based on new scenarios employ the motif of the screaming face and its gesture. One of them (to be found at http://www.cartoonstock.com/ lowres/marriage-relationships-scream-screaming-munch-masterpieces-bridesdre1658l.jpg) involves the scenario of getting married (represented metonymically by the church setting, the priest, and the couple’s clothes) and follows the stereotype that a husband-to-be should be terrified and afraid of this moment in his life; the visible symptoms of fear (the facial expression, and the gesture) are taken directly from Munch’s painting. The next picture (http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ mly/lowres/art-taxes-internal_revenue-irs-scream-art-mlyn1854l.jpg) places Munch’s figure at the Revenue Department; here we can notice verbal (the clerk mentions the name of his suppliant – Edvard Munch) and visual (the recognisable face and gesture) links to the original painting the self-portrait of Munch. Another spoof (http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/akl/ lowres/art-plastic-cosmetic-beauty-artist-munch-akln369l.jpg) is based on the scenario of seeing a doctor. A woman has just undergone plastic surgery, after which her face seems strange. Here we have a certain ambiguity: the face is literally distorted after the operation, but at the same time it stands metonymically for the woman’s emotion of horror. Humorous remakes aiming at clarifying why the face is so terrified try to motivate the fear by creating a new scenario signalled metonymically by some amusing new elements that introduced into the setting. In one of them (Fig. 1 below), the context for the scream totally changes. The original scream is shown 175

as the culmination of a certain story, which develops gradually in the four panels (as if from a comic strip). By applying such notions as perspectival location and perspectival mode (Talmy, 2000, pp. 68–72), it can be said that we are observing the scene from one fixed vantage point (external perspective); but what changes is the temporal setting. Also, owing to the stationary perspective point, we obtain a global scope of attention. Since the direction of viewing is homogeneous with the temporal direction of events, the perspective is consequential. The picture contains no verbal contribution, but the successive panels show a figure approaching, and then opening his coat with the typical gesture of an exhibitionist – which makes the passing main protagonist scream. Figure 1:

The next remake extends the situation verbally, by also adopting the convention of the comic strip, but at the same time it alludes visually to an Internet meme (one employing the so-called “rage faces”). 176

Figure 2:

The facial expression standing for horror and pain is shown here as a consequence of a certain mundane situation (and can be thus treated as hyperbolic). The scenario, signalled by some minimal clues, is that of a couple having dinner. 177

The soup turns out to be too spicy and we can observe the figure expressing an extreme reaction. The prolonged exclamation “Noooooooo!!” added to the picture verbally enhances the effect.

3.╇Imagery The most prominent, conspicuous and attention-drawing point of the depicted scene is always the face of the screaming figure. People, and specifically their faces, generally draw our attention, as our perception is anthropocentrically oriented, but this particular face is even more attention-worthy due to its vivid expressiveness, which evokes empathy in the viewers. Additionally, the facial expression is accompanied by a similarly conspicuous gesture and other elements of body language. It is interesting that in the remakes presented so far the face, standing of course for the person, rarely contributes verbally to the situations it is shown in (if we ignore the exceptional case of the emphatic exclamation, above); it is rather passive. Its role boils down to the role of the object of observation, yet it obtains the full attention of the viewer. The scenes are presented from the vantage point of an external observer (external perspective) not involved in the presented situation, but we can learn the viewpoints of the participants in the scenes (manifested verbally), and the viewpoint of the screaming face itself is manifested non-verbally by its expression, metonymic for its emotions. The name of this meme (which can be found at www.quickmeme.com) – “OMG Scream Guy” – confirms the metonymic connection between the visual representation and its referent (certain feelings). The conscious handling of perspective may be illustrated very well by some Internet memes. The creation of new memes based on the template of this painting shows how well it has been assimilated by popular culture. The memes often pertain to topical social, political, or media events, and comment on them – just as the meme “Please No!!! Not Another American Idol Season” (Fig. 3), or “OMG! Iron Man 3 looks so cool! But I don’t have tickets” (Fig. 4). If we apply Langacker’s notions of the viewing arrangement (1991, p. 499) and the aspects of imagery in analysing the texts related to this meme, we can note that the screaming figure is construed as an observer who reveals his presence in the depicted world not only through the deictic personal pronoun “I”, but mainly by revealing his emotions, observations and opinions concerning various issues: he is often scared, fearful, anxious, hysterical or upset. He is therefore included in the scope of predication and as such he is not just a neutral perceiving subject, but also an object of observation. In both of those roles he is 178

a dominating presence in the meme – he is perceived as the figure, the most prominent and conspicuous item in the viewing arrangement. We can also note that the comments are presented from his point of view. It is interesting that the last of the pictures presented below (Fig. 6) is highly auto-thematic and self-referential. Langacker (1987) calls such a situation, in which a scene includes the speaker herself/himself as “an objective viewing arrangement”. It must be noted that Langacker uses the terms “subjective” and “objective” in a kind of idiosyncratic way, reversing their usual meaning. In the case of this meme, we have an objective viewing arrangement, because the role of the figure as a neutral (unseen) observer is minimised and its role as an object of observation (explicitly present in the scene) is maximised (Langacker 1987, p. 491). Here, the speaker maximises his visibility in the scene using the personal pronoun I, thanks to which he achieves the highest level of objectivity and becomes the subject of the sentence – he is not only a conceptualiser, but also the object of conceptualisation (ibid., pp. 130–131). Figure 3–6:

A separate category includes pictures based on the observation of similarity between Munch’s screaming figure and some other items. The cat and the pepper shown in the following pictures (Fig. 7, 8) are compared to the figure on the basis of physical similarity. Since the aim of the pictures is to present the objects as emulating or embodying human physical qualities, it can be seen as an instance of personification. Applying the notion of a reference point (Langacker, 1987, p. 173), it can be noted that those pairs of pictures, “invoke the conception of one entity for purposes of establishing mental contact with another”. “The Scream” will undoubtedly be chosen as the point of reference, which is also manifested visually by its visual alignment: scanning picture from left to right, we mentally compare the cat and the pepper to the screaming figure. This operation is reflected in language by the phrase “it looks like”. Langacker remarks that this operation is 179

one of the most “fundamental to both linguistic and cognitive organization” but it goes almost unnoticed by observers (ibid., pp. 171, 173). Figure 7–8:

4.╇Blending As I have mentioned above, most of the pictures contain exaggeration, as they involve a clash between the associations of the figure (high notions, art, philosophy, and existential matters) and the depicted situation (everyday petty problems). This property is also closely connected with the face – its distortion is exaggerated as it represents extreme emotions. The word “overreact” used in one of the spoofs (http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ rmc/lowres/art-da_vinci-edvard _munch-scream-pictures-artists-rmcn138l.jpg) highlights this intensity, the reaction that goes beyond a certain scale. The picture shows a couple at a marriage counselling session: Mona Lisa as the wife, and the screaming man as the husband. Owing to its expressive properties, the face draws the observer’s attention. The intensity is highlighted verbally (by the prefix over) and visually (by the horrified expression of the face). Both the verbal and the visual aspect complement each other, by reinforcing the target effect on the reader. The effect is also amplified by the contrast between the expressive face and the static image of the Mona Lisa. This intertextual comic strip may also be seen as an instance of blending with three input spaces: “The Scream”, “The Mona Lisa” and the situation at the Marriage Counsellor’s. Another spoof (http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/mmo/ lowres/art-thescream-screams-laundry_day-washing-laundry-mmon467l.jpg) may be seen as instance of exaggeration: a minor problem (a black sock that has found its way into the washing machine together with white clothes) meets with an exaggerated reaction, which contributes to the humorous/grotesque effect of the picture. The cartoon belongs to the first group I have mentioned: it is based on a certain scenario and depicts a minor everyday situation in which it places the screaming figure. 180

The picture presented below belongs to the second category of remakes – it employs the original setting of the painting, but introduces a new figure, resembling/alluding to the original one. A cartoon-like representation of the actor Macaulay Culkin starring as Kevin in “Home Alone”, a box-office hit from the 1990s (and still a very recognisable character in pop culture), is presented against a background borrowed from “The Scream” (Fig. 9). However, the spoof ’s background is much simpler than that of the original: the curvy lines, the limited range of colours and the reduced depth makes the picture less dynamic, more childish and naïve. Thanks to this simplicity, the observers primarily focus their attention on Kevin, whose head, placed in the geometrical centre of the picture, becomes its figure, the “pivotal entity around which the scene is organised” (Langacker, 1987, p. 120). Its prominence is amplified by the use of bright, saturated colours (the blond hair and pale face contrast with the blue water) and the expressive grimace of the face, which is so suggestive that the observers are almost able to hear the scream (or, thanks to the picture’s intertextual properties, they can recollected it if they have seen the film). The original painting contains some more distractions to the focal element, since the observer’s attention is also drawn by the other people present in the picture, and the movement suggested by the curvy lines denoting the sky and the water. The illustration may also be interpreted as an instance of conceptual blending, a combination of two input spaces: Munch’s “Scream” and the moment from the film “Home Alone”, presented on the cover of the DVD (Fig. 10). Elements from those diverse scenarios are blended in order to create one coherent unity. To interpret the result, the observer has to project the “conceptual packets” and work out the connection between them in a subconscious process (Fauconnier, 2003). It can be argued that the first input space contains such elements of the original painting as the human-like figure, and its emotions: fear, anxiety (from what we know of their source), artistic creation, and expressionist painting. The second input space contains similar elements: a screaming human, the emotions – fear (though here having a different cause), pop culture, the film “Home Alone”, and the 1990s. These are merged and projected selectively into a new blended space that combines such elements as a person (Kevin), emotions (fear), and an image. The fourth space, the generic space, contains “the structure[s] that [are] taken to apply to both of the input spaces” such as identity, cause, activity, time, and mode (Fauconnier & Turner, 1995, p. 187). Looking at the spoof from the point of view of conceptual blending, we can recognise the allusive properties of the image. The interpretation involves two stages: the receiver/observer identifies the original source, then keeping it in mind contrasts it with the new picture and works out its meaning. Allusion often 181

carries implications, which means that much more is hidden than the actual expression reveals. Here, the allusion’s effect is creating humour. But why is the spoof amusing? Besides the fact that it alludes to a comedy and shows a comedic character, there is also a clash between the seriousness of the original painting (its high register) and the childishness (low register) of the spoof. Figure 9–10: Home alone

The following pictures may also be treated as instances of allusive works. The first one (Fig. 11) preserves the original background of “The Scream”, but introduces new elements – a cook and burning food. The flames mingle with the red sky and thus unify the new elements with the old. The spoof has a humorous effect due to the contrasting of its serious elements (from the original painting) with an unserious subject. The picture may also be treated as a blend of those elements in different input spaces. The remaining two remakes are based on the replacement of the face (and the hands) of the original protagonist. Figure 12 appeared on the Internet after the Polish national team was eliminated from the Euro 2012 Football Championship and presents its ex-coach, Franciszek Smuda, in a typical gesture of disappointment/despair. The original hands have been replaced by those wearing football gloves, which metonymically stand for Smuda’s function and occupation. The meme may be treated as an instance of intertextuality/allusion and blending. The last picture (Fig. 13) preserves most of the original setting. However, it replaces the screaming face with one taken from a Spanish fresco portraying Jesus, whose restoration was botched by an amateur. The highly intertextual picture may be seen as a reaction to this failure: the gesture from “The Scream” stands metonymically for the emotions of horror at the sight of the “restored” fresco. 182

Figure 11–13:

5.╇Conclusions Comic makeovers of motifs or works of art are very popular among cartoonmakers and Internet users. We can often find various remakes of the same motif. Cognitive theory shows that the same subject matter may be perceived and reflected differently by different observers. The remakes I have presented seem to share certain features. The feelings and attitudes are represented metonymically, mostly through the visual representation of the screaming figure: the face and its gestures. Apart from metonymy, we can see other devices such as blending (in both the visual and the verbal modes), intertextuality/allusion (combining two texts of culture and also involving conceptual integration), comparison, or meta-commentary. It also seems possible and profitable to talk about the remakes in terms of the aspects of imagery. The employment of this cognitively understood set of notions enriches the analysis and makes it more precise, concrete and tangible. The perception of more linguistic and non-linguistic facts relevant to the description of the issues also became possible. Different verbal and visual stylisations of the same motif exemplify the possibilities of alternative construals and show their creative potential.

References Cavalcante, S. (2012). A Preliminary Essay on Intertextuality as a Socio-Cognitive Phenomenon. Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=2153937. Turner, M. & G. Fauconnier (1995). Conceptual Integration and Formal Expression. Journal of Metaphor and Symbolic Activity, volume 10, number 3, pages 183–204. Fauconnier, G. & Turner, M. (2003). Conceptual blending, form and meaning. Recherches en communication, no 19. 183

Forceville, Ch. (Ed.). (2009). Multimodal metaphor. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Forceville, Ch. (2006). Pictorial metaphor in advertising. London: Routledge. Glucksberg, S. (2008). How metaphors create categories quickly. In The Cambridge Handbook of Metaphor and Thought (R. W. Gibbs, Ed.). Cambridge: CUP. Kaczorowski, B. (Ed.). (2010). Sto najsłynniejszych obrazów świata. Warszawa: PWN. Kövecses, Z. (2002). Metaphor. A practical introduction. New York: OUP. Kövesces, Z. (2003). Metaphor and Emotion: Language, Culture, and Body in Human Feeling. Cambridge: CUP. Kwiatkowska, A. (2011). A plea for a unified cognitive-semiotic approach to the analysis of verbal and visual representations. Kwartalnik Neofilologiczny, Zeszyt 3/2011; 313–324. Kwiatkowska, A. (2013). Interfaces, interspaces: image, language, cognition. Piotrków Trybunalski: Naukowe Wydawnictwo Piotrkowskie. Langacker, R. (1987). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, Volume I, Theoretical Prerequisites. Stanford, Cal.: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R. (2008). Cognitive Grammar: A Basic Introduction. New York: OUP. “Meme”. In Oxford Dictionaries online. Retrieved March 6, 2013, from http:// oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/meme Munch, E. (1863–1944/2005). The Private Journals of Edvard Munch: We Are Flames Which Pour Out of the Earth. (Transl. G. Holland). Wisconsin: Wisconsin Press. Sousa, M. (2013). Shining Secrets. [A blog entry]. Retrieved February 1, 2014, from http://marcelosousa.tumblr.com/post/38047558270/edvard-munch-thescream-1893-in-his-diary-in Tabakowska, E., N. Palich, & A. Nowakowski (Eds.). (2013). Ikoniczność w jezyku, literaturze i przekładzie. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Jagiellońskiego. Tabakowska, E. (Ed.). (2006). Ikoniczność znaku. Słowo-przedmiot-obraz-gest. Kraków: Universitas. Tabakowska, E. (2010). Słowo i obraz. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Jagiellońskiego. Talmy, L. (2000). Toward a Cognitive Semantics. MIT Press. 184

Józef Marcinkiewicz Adam Mickiewicz University, Poznań, Poland

The metaphor in feedback transfer in L2 acquisition (with some examples of the interaction between the Polish and Lithuanian languages)1 Abstract The paper discusses the problem of a language error found in the process of foreign language acquisition which is referred to as feedback transfer and whose sources seem to have their origin in metaphoric extensions. We are dealing here with a subcategory of the lexical-semantic transfer to the user’s primary language which is characteristic of all L2 to L1 translation operations of that user. When one looks at the process of such transfers from a cognitive standpoint, one notices the process of transferring to the user’s L1 mistakenly identified and retrieved meanings of L2 lexemes, and the process is based upon certain mental “misses” with respect to the metaphoric extension or extensions of the meanings, or – in other words – the sense of the metaphor which a given lexeme implies. It is well known that in the process of L2 acquisition the lexemic stores of L1 and L2 are unavoidably asymmetric. The asymmetry of the mental storage is not only one of the causes of some L2 errors, but it can additionally start in the mind of a bilingual user certain cognitive processes which imply mistaken lexical activations leading to mistaken language use. Language errors in L2 translations often turn out to center around mistakenly identified metaphoric extensions, or they result from the fact that different conceptual patterns get activated during the translation process. L2 metaphoric senses are often hard to acquire because of the prevailing L1 conceptualizations, or in other words lexical-semantic categories internalized in the process of L1 acquisition are decisive. The article presents transfer errors found in the papers of Polish students (L1) I have been teaching Lithuanian (L2) to at Adam Mickiewicz University in Poznań. Keywords linguistic interference; lexical transfer; feedback transfer; metaphor; L2 acquisition 1 Proofread by Graham Crawford.

185

1.╇Introduction In the present paper I seek to define the concept of feedback transfer in a cognitive sense and investigate the role of metaphor in this process. In a short case study, I analyze several examples of feedback transfer in phrases translated from Lithuanian (L2) into Polish by students of Lithuanian Studies at Adam Mickiewicz University in Poznań. The linguistic data has been extracted from the Lithuanian as a Second Language course. More specifically, the material has been collected from written assignments submitted by third-, fourth- and fifth-year students in the years 2010–2013.

2.╇Preliminary overview of the problems The problem of feedback transfer, i.e. transfer to the user’s L1 in a cognitive sense, has not been investigated in linguistic research. I explored the question of language transfer under the cognitive approach as a new research theme in several papers of mine (cf. Marcinkiewicz 2011, 2013), drawing on the tools of R. W. Langacker’s (1987, 1990) cognitive grammar framework. I proposed some definitional solutions, which are summarized below. Language transfer should be understood as incorrect acquisition of a conventional unit of the primary language in a secondary language in a specific bilingual usage event, which prevents the activation of a necessary lexeme due to its absence in the user’s L2 mental lexicon. From a cognitive standpoint, the process is viewed in terms of the human-specific communication skills based on the ability to supplement the incomplete inventory of language units in L2 (primarily, lexical-semantic) by means of conventional units from the L1 mental lexicon. The latter are activated by means of humans’ inherent mental operations of categorizing and contrasting the standard with the target, and additionally in some cases through the process of extension of the categorial pattern (cf. Langacker 2003, pp. 33–37; see Marcinkiewicz 2011, pp. 139ff, 2013, pp. 71ff). According to Langacker (2003, p. 35), ability of extension enables recognition of radial categories that are separated from the prototype, but also, in my view, it causes “misses” with respect to the correct meaning.

3.╇Feedback transfer and metaphor – theoretical explorations 3.1╇The concept of feedback transfer Under the cognitive approach, feedback transfer should be viewed as a subcategory of lexical transfer in bilingual language usage, i.e. translation of a text from 186

L2 into L1. The mechanism of generating a lexical-semantic error in the user’s primary language follows the very same rules of the aforementioned mental processing. However, it seems that what distinguishes standard lexical transfer (from L1 to L2) from feedback transfer is the initial stimulus, i.e. input data, the direction of language processing and its final effect (cf. Langacker, 2003, pp. 37–40). Regarding the differences between the two types of transfer, in the case of generating a lexical-semantic error in L2 the input data is the mental signal lacking in a precise structural element in a specific context of foreign language use. As a result of neuropsychological processing, this signal activates a previously generated schema, i.e. a specific lexical-semantic unit of the primary language (L1), which - after its transposition to L2 – is concretized in an utterance (see Marcinkiewicz 2013, pp. 73ff). For feedback transfer, the input data is a specific L2 lexeme, which during the process of categorization activates as a mental signal a meaning-deficient scheme (in Lakoff ’s view, ICM) in the user’s L2 lexicon (on Idealized Cognitive Models, see Lakoff 1987, pp. 68ff). Then a scheme is transposed into its L1 equivalent (code change), which is concretized in an utterance. This process clearly foregrounds the reverse direction of processing from L2 to L1, i.e. the categorization in which B is employed to categorize A (see Langacker 2003, p. 40). The mechanism of feedback transfer is graphically displayed in Fig. 1, in which B represents the L2 mental lexicon, (b1) – the lexical-semantic category in the L2 lexicon; (A) and (a1) stand for the L1 mental lexicon while a1 is a transferred lexeme in the target utterance. Figure 1: The cognitive model of lexeme feedback transfer

In sum, feedback transfer always needs to be associated with L2-L1 translation. Under the cognitive approach, it should be defined as the activation in the 187

L1 lexicon (followed by language usage) an equivalent of an inadequate word meaning in L2. The process results from the mental operation of “missing” the correct bundle of the cognitive model (semantic profile) of the radial category or the semantic chain, since the user’s L2 mental lexicon is lacking the correct metaphorical extension of the appropriate radial category. At the level of cognitive processes, so-called “missing” as the false alarm phenomenon is understood as the result of information processing at the stage of perceptual categorization, i.e. the recognition of an image, in our case, of a word (see Falkowski, Maruszewski, Nęcka, 2008, pp. 371f; Wojciszke, Doliński, 2010, p. 301). In addition, Lakoff (1987: 125f, 129), in his discussion of the semantics of perception, emphasizes that perception entails categorization, which does not have to be completely congruent with reality because it is dependent on acquired Idealized Cognitive Models, in our words - our cultural experiences (knowledge, stereotypes, etc.).

3.2╇The role of metaphor and its cultural context Feedback transfer typically involves concepts or polysemic lexemes with extended semantic fields. According to Lakoff and Johnson (1988, p. 25), our conceptual system, which we use in thinking and acting on a daily basis, is based on metaphor. It can be argued that the role of metaphor in lexicalsemantic transfer manifests itself at two levels of the conceptualization of word meaning. The first one is related to the presence of kinesthetic image schemata embodied in the structure of all concepts (including such schemata as CONTAINER, PART-WHOLE, LINK, CENTER-PERIPHERY, SOURCEPATH-GOAL, see Lakoff 1987, pp. 271ff) whereas the other one (superior) involves so-called metaphorical mapping, also known as metaphorical extension, which is defined as the tool for assigning new meanings to concepts (see Lakoff 1987, pp. 281–285). A highly important factor contributing to translation errors is the cultural aspect of metaphor (on the culture-context of metaphor with relation to untranslatability, see Tabakowska 2001, pp. 92, 95f). It is the transfer or conceptual projection of the L1 user’s linguistic and cultural experience that can lead to the miscomprehension of the source message. What is usually central to the proper understanding of an error is the specific ethnic, cultural and socio-cultural context. However, lexical-semantic categories internalized in the process of L1 acquisition are decisive (see more Dąbrowska, Kubiński, 2003, pp. 12ff). 188

4.╇Feedback transfer: short case study 4.1╇The error of missing the sense of metaphorical/metonymic extension Example: the radial category SRITIS: (1) Lith. s r i t i m s ir rajonams buvo nustatomos kvotos > Translated into Polish as: a. na dziedziny i rejony były ustalane kwoty (mm4)2 (English: quotas were set for domains and regions); b. dla obszarów (mb4) (English: for areas); c. działom (ks4) (English: sections); d. okręgom i regionom (ks4) (English: circles and regions). Model translation: ‘o b w o d o m i rejonom [jako jednostkom aministracyjnym w ZSRR] wyznaczano/ustalano kwoty/ normy (ilościowe)’ (English : ‘Quotas were set for d i s t r i c t s and regions [the administrative units in the former Soviet Union’)

Example (1) includes erroneous translations of the polysemic noun sritis (polysemy is viewed in cognitive terms, see Krzeszowski, 2012, pp. 110ff). In options a-d four equivalents were used: a) dziedzina (field), b) obszar (area), c) dział (section), d) okręg (circle), none of which matches the semantics of sritis from the source context, and accordingly does not denote ‘district’ in the former Soviet Union. However, the semantic analysis found that the choice of the incorrect equivalents was motivated by certain meaning categories of the source language lexeme. The point can be best illustrated through a visual representation of the idealized cognitive model (ICM) of the radial category SRITIS, which includes four basic meanings from the Lithuanian DLKZ dictionary (Dictionary of Current Lithuanian). Figure 2: Model of the radial category SRITIS

2 The symbol of the student and the Lithuanian course level.

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As can be seen, the SRITIS model includes three semantic feature bundles: 1) part of a territory; 2) localization of the phenomenon; 3) sphere of activity, and bundle 1.1 in a chain relation with category 1, which is the name of an administrative unit in Russia (and the former Soviet Union), and is employed as a metaphorical-metonymic extension of meaning 1. The Polish equivalents in relation to the above bundle of the ICMs of the category SRITIS can be arranged in two meaning categories: the lexemes area and circle can be associated with the physical experiential domain of territory (1), whereas the lexemes domain and section can be understood through the ICMs defining the sphere of human activity (3) thanks to image schemata with a metaphorical-metonymic extension (see Lakoff, 1987, pp. 91, 113f). Central to the feedback transfer in this case was the user’s inability to recognize the metaphorical extension (1.1), which sees the concept of sritis as an administrative unit. More specifically, the transfer has been caused by the user’s insufficient factual knowledge and cultural experience in this area (Poland has a different naming tradition). Examples with the radial category – semantic chain LAUKAS: (2) Lith. l a u k e žaidžiami žaidimai > Translated into Polish as: a. w polu grane są zabawy (kp5) (English: in the field games are played) b. na polu gramy w gry (jw5) (English: on the field we play games) Model translation: ‘na p o d w ó r z u gra się w gry (i zabawy)’ (English : ‘games are played in the b a c k y a r d’. (3) (nekviestus svečius teks) l a u k a n išprašyti > Translated into Polish as: (gości) wyprosić na pole (js4; ks4; kp4) (English as: (guests) asked to go out to the field. Model translation: ‘trzeba będzie nieproszonych gości wyprosić (precz)’ (English :‘unin be asked to go away’).

Examples (2) and (3) include the polysemic lexeme LAUKAS – a complex radial category with chain extensions. In DLKZ, laukas carries the following meanings: 1. treeless area (within seeing distance); 2. arable field; 3. outdoor area; 4. place of activity; 5. field conditions of activity (used attributively); 6. place where in electromagnetic (physical) forces are at work; 7. in the phrase: Eik lauk!/Laukan! ‘get out’. All incorrect translations match meanings 1 and 2, i.e. the propositional ICM located closest to the center of the radial category, which denotes 1) free physical space or its metonymic extension into the agriculture domain or 2) an arable field. However, in the source language phrase (2), the lexeme laukas is used as a metaphor meaning free image space which is linked with the model of the scene INSIDE-OUTSIDE –metaphor of CONTAINER (meaning 3). In 190

example 3 in the phrase lauk! ‘get out’ we are dealing with a metonymic extension of meaning 3, which is strongly rooted in the cultural context, that is in the linguistic image of the world shared by Lithuanians. While the Polish equivalents of the Lithuanian phrase invoke the concept of OUTSIDE (Pl. wyjdź!, precz!, won! – Eng. out!, away!, get out!), they are not metaphorically associated with the source domain of FIELD (on the linguistic image of the world, see Bartmiński (1990); Wierzbicka (1999)).

4.2╇False friend transfer Another type of mistake that occurs in feedback transfer is what in translation theory is traditionally called “faux amis” or “false friend”. Viewed cognitively, in this kind of lexical transfer, the bilingual user activates in their mental lexicon (in the target language of translation) a lexical-semantic unit, which is formally identical or very similar to the source language lexeme but differs from it semantically. Irrespective of the translation direction, the use of a similar word in the target language involves the transfer of the meaning of the ICM acquired in L1. It needs to be added that the false friend transfer concerns “internationalisms”, which in Polish linguistic research are viewed as constituting the so-called European lexical league (cf. Maćkiewicz, 1992, pp. 145f; Lipczuk, 1992, pp. 140f). Examples with AKTUALUS, KULTŪRINIS and AVANSAS: (4) Lith. a k t u a l i o s visuomenei kultūrinės temos > Translated into Polish: aktualne kulturalne tematy dla społeczeństwa (kn4), (English: current cultural topics for society); Model translation: w a ż n e dla społeczeństwa tematy kulturalne (English : r e l e v a n t cultural topics for society). â•… The Lithuanian adjective aktualus has the meaning of ‘important, relevant at a particular moment’. Its semantics is based on the domain of RELEVANCE, whereas the Polish adjective aktualny (current) is conceptualized in the domain of TIME. (5) Lith. pirmieji k u l t ū r i n i a i augalai: kviečiai ir miežiai > Translated into Polish as: pierwsze rośliny o znaczeniu kulturowym: jęczmień, (-) < (mm5), (English : first plants with a significant cultural function : barley); Model translation: pierwsze rośliny u p r a w n e: pszenica i jęczmień, (English : first c u l t i v a t e d plants : corn and barley); â•… For the adjective kultūrinis, DLKZ provides two meanings: “1. cultural, 2. concerning the cultivation of crops and plants”. In the Lithuanian example, the word evokes meaning 2, which retains the propositional ICM (the original meaning of cultus, cultura in Latin was cultivation, an experiential domain). In its Polish translation, the misused

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equivalent “cultural” is linked with meaning 1, which refers to culture (in its general sense), whose ICM is in fact a metaphorical extension. (6) Lith. suteikti paramą a v a n s u > Translated into Polish: pomoc do awansu (rk5), (English: support for promotion). Model translation: ‘u f a j ą c (komuś) udzielić wsparcia’, (English : t r u s t i n g (someone) give support).

The last example includes the noun avansas, with two core meanings: 1. advance payment; 2. trust, confidence (in someone). This lexeme causes a great deal of confusion, as in the source context it is used metaphorically and draws on the source domain of human EMOTIONS/FEELINGS, whereas the equivalent used in the Polish translation clearly points to “promotion” on a career ladder.

4.3╇Verb transfer with background profiling In cognitive semantics, the verb is defined as a linguistic unit which profiles a temporal relations (proces) between scene participants (see Langacker, 2005, p. 32; also Kalisz, 2001, p. 129). Because verbs play a special role in sentences, their transfer analysis calls for reference to the level of scene conceptualization. More specifically, such analysis needs to be based on the model of central relation participants in terms of trajector (Tr)/landmark (Lm) and profile/base (see Langacker, 2005, pp. 14f, 24f). By embracing Langacker’s cognitive semantics approach, under which meaning is not directly determined by reality, but is constructed in the process of the cognitive representation of a given situation or the image of a linguistic phrase, it becomes obvious why verb error analysis needs to include conceptualization (cf. Langacker, 2005a, p. 6). Example with the radial category – semantic chain KELTI: (7) Lith. (mokslas), kuris k e l i a gyvenimo prasmės k l a u s i m ą > Translated into Polish as: a. budzi/podnosi p y t a n i e (mb5), (English: brings up/raises a q u e s t i o n); b. zadaje/stawia p y t a n i e (kp5), (English: asks/poses a q u e s t i o n); c. zadaje p y t a n i e (js5), (English: asks a q u e s t i o n); d. podnosi k w e s t i ę (mr5), (English: raises an i s s u e). Model translation: ‘(nauka), która z a j m u j e się zagadnieniem sensu życia (p o r u s z a zagadnienie)’, (English: (science), which d e a l s w i t h the problem of the sense of life (a d d r e s s e s the problem).

The DLKZ dictionary defines kelti as: 1. ‘move up, raise, put in a higher place’ (propositional ICM), which is relevant to the scene depicted in sentence (7), even though the overall sense of the sentence is abstract and fairly remote from 192

physical experience. The scene is conceptualized by the personified trajector (science), which channels its energy into the landmark (“puts the landmark in a more prominent place”). In other words, the trajector performs an upward movement of the landmark (with hands used as the presumed tool) following the UP-DOWN trajectory. This kind of scene imaging results from the propositional ICM of KELTI (meaning 1). In the phrase kelti klausimą (literally, ‘raise a problem’), the meaning of kelti is a metaphor which means ‘addressing a problem’. In DLKZ the metaphorical sense of kelti, i.e. ‘indicate, consider (address, study, deal with), formulate a problem, issue’ is listed as meaning 13. However, as follows from scene description, in the process of scene imaging, ‘movement with upward trajectory’ remains noticeable. The Polish equivalents used in translations (a–d) budzi/podnosi/zadaje p y t a n i e/ kwestię (brings up/raises/asks a q u e s t i o n/problem) indicate that the conceptualized content was not totally misunderstood (e.g. translation d. podnosi kwestię (raises an i s s u e) is a near-equivalent). They all point to the activation of scene imaging from the source text through the propositional ICM of KELTI. This is well illustrated by example a, which contains the equivalents podnosić/budzić (bring up/raise) with the ICM corresponding to kelti, based on the UP-DOWN schema. In this case as well the Polish verb budzić (raise) is an equivalent of the Lithuanian kelti, whose ICM is a metaphorical extension into the domain of RAISING FROM BED. However, the problem is that in Polish the conceptualized phrase ‘zajęcie się (jakimś) zagadnieniem/problemem’ (dealing with a problem/issue’) has a completely different image profile. Such scene conceptualization is attempted in examples b and c, which contain the phrase zadawać/stawiać p y t a n i e (ask/pose a q u e s t i o n). In the translation into Polish, the image schema is changed: in the target sentence the trajector moves along the horizontal trajectory (the schema of taking the landmark out of the CONTAINER and moving it IN FRONT). Yet the translation is far from perfect because of the polysemy of the noun klausimas. The user renders the Lithuanian word as ‘pytanie’ (question) in Polish. Even though KLAUSIMAS is a radial category with the central meaning of ‘pytanie’ (question), in this particular context the profiled ICM is a metaphor which means ‘problem, zagadnienie’ (‘problem, issue’). The proposed equivalents in the model translation: zajmować się/poruszać (deal with/address) provide a different scene imaging (the trajector’s movement within the landmark). However, it needs to be emphasized that the aforementioned conceptualizations in Lithuanian and Polish exhibit differences with regard to this element of our experience, which is the main reason for transfer. Otherwise the problem can be examined in the concept of active zones (cf. Langacker, 1990, p. 190, and Bierwiaczonek, 2010, pp. 11ff). 193

Example with the radial category TVARKYTI > TVARKYMAS: (8) Lith. (žodis įgavo) dabartinę lėšų t v a r k y m o reikšmę > Translated into Polish as: (słowo otrzymało) znaczenie uporządkowania środków (kp5), (English: (the word acquired) the meaning of ordering resources. Model translation: ‘(słowo to uzyskało współczesne znaczenie zarządzania finansami’, (English: the word acquired the contemporary meaning of managing finance).

The problem here concerns the translation of the nomen actionis form tvarkymas ‘porządkowanie’ (‘ordering’), derived from the verb tvarkyti, Pol.: ‘1. ‘robić porządek, porządkować’ (order, sort out); 2. metaph. ‘porządkować, gospodarować, zarządzać’ (oversee, manage, administrate). In fact TVARKYMAS is a radial category with a bundle of metaphorical ICMs. Its positional ICM contains the schema of ordering; hence, in semantic terms, it carries the same features as the verb, which needs to be taken into account in error analysis. Without going into detailed analysis, it can be argued that in the Polish translation, the proposed equivalent uporządkowanie (‘ordering’) totally maps the scene profile of the source word tvarkymas, whose propositional ICM denotes the undirected movement of the trajector’s energy within the landmark (the schema of CONTAINER or SCALE). However, when elaborating on the issue of finance, it would be advisable to use the expert category such as zarządzanie (‘managing’) (cf. Taylor, 2001, p. 106), which profiles the conceptualized activity in terms of ‘exercising control over the landmark by the trajector’, i.e. the schemata of LINK and CONTROL.

5.╇Conclusions In bilingual language use, the reason for transfer lies in our mental processes of data processing. Complex categories, consolidated in L1 acquisition and stored in the mental lexicon, display their acquisitional power in bilingual situations and have a direct impact on transfer. While explaining the cognitive mechanism of lexical errors in translation, I propose a new concept of feedback transfer and its cognitive definition. Drawing on cognitive concepts, I distinguish three subcategories within feedback transfer: 1. feedback transfer based on missing the sense of metaphorical/ metonymic extension of radial categories; 2. false friend transfer; 3. verb transfer with background profiling. The above list should inspire further research in this area. Translated by Marcin Lewandowski 194

References Bartmiński, J. (1990). Językowy obraz świata. Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS. Bierwiaczonek, B. (2010). Active zones revisited and revised. In B. Bierwiaczonek & A. Turula (Eds.) Studies in cognitive Semantics. Częstochowa: Wydawnictwo Wyższej Szkoły Lingwistycznej, 11–26. Dąbrowska, E. & Kubiński, W. (2003). Akwizycja języka w świetle językoznawstwa kognitywnego. In E. Dąbrowska, & W. Kubiński (Eds.) Akwizycja języka w świetle językoznawstwa kognitywnego. Kraków: Universitas, 9–29. DLKZ - Dabartinės lietuvių kalbos žodynas [Dictionary of Current Lithuanian, 4-th Edition]. (2000). Vilnius: Mokslo ir enciklopedijų leidykla. Falkowski, A., Maruszewski, T. & Nęcka, E. (2008). Procesy poznawcze. In J. Strelau & D. Doliński (Eds.) Psychologia. Podręcznik akademicki, Vol. 1. Gdańsk: Gdańskie Wydawnictwo Psychologiczne, 339–510. Kalisz, R. (2001). Językoznawstwo kognitywne w świetle językoznawstwa funkcjonalnego. Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego. Krzeszowski, T.P. (2012). Meaning and Translation. Part 1: Meaning. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal about the Mind. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. [Pol. Kobiety, ogień i rzeczy niebezpieczne. Co kategorie mówią nam o umyśle (Ed. by E. Tabakowska). Kraków: Universitas, 2011]. Lakoff, G. & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. [Pol. Metafory w naszym życiu (Trans. by T.P. Krzeszowski). Warszawa: PIW, 1988]. Langacker, R.W. (1987). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar: Vol. 1. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R.W. (1990). Concept, Image, and Symbol. The Cognitive Basis of Grammar. Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Langacker, R.W. (2003). Model dynamiczny oparty na uzusie językowym. In E. Dąbrowska, & W. Kubiński (Eds.) Akwizycja języka w świetle językoznawstwa kognitywnego. Kraków: Universitas, 30–117. Langacker, R.W. (2005). Wykłady z gramatyki kognitywnej. Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS. Langacker, R.W. (2005a). Obserwacje i rozważania na temat zjawiska subiektyfikacji. Kraków: Universitas. 195

Lipczuk, R. (1992). Internacjonalizmy a „fałszywi przyjaciele tłumacza“. Język a kultura 7. Kontakty języka polskiego z innymi językami na tle kontaktów kulturowych, 135–143. Maćkiewicz, J. (1992). Wyrazy międzynarodowe a kształtowanie się europejskiej ligi słownikowej. Język a kultura 7. Kontakty języka polskiego z innymi językami na tle kontaktów kulturowych, 145–153. Marcinkiewicz, J. (2011). Kognitywne i strukturalne podłoże interferencji morfosyntaktyczej w języku litewskim – i nie tylko. In I. Polańska & J. Freundlich (Eds.) Zeszyty Glottodydaktyczne Jagiellońskiego Centrum Językowego 3. Kraków: Uniwersytetu Jagiellońskiego, 137–156. Marcinkiewicz, J. (2013). O kognitywnym rozumieniu interferencji oraz transferu językowego w akwizycji L2. Scripta Neophilologica Posnaniensia 13, 67–75. Tabakowska, E. (1993). Cognitive Linguistics and Poetics of Translation. Tübingen: Gunter Narr Verlag. [Pol. Językoznawstwo kognitywne a poetyka przekładu. Kraków: Universitas, 2001. Taylor, J.R. (1989). Linguistic Categorization Prototypes in Linguistic Theory (1995; 2nd edition). London: Oxford University Press. [Pol. Kategoryzacja w języku. Prototypy w teorii językoznawczej. Kraków: Universitas, 2001]. Wierzbicka, A. (1999). Język, umysł, kultura. Warszawa: PWN. Wojciszke, B. & Doliński, D. (2010). Psychologia społeczna. In J. Strelau & D. Doliński (Eds.) Psychologia akademicka. Podręcznik. Vol. 2. Gdańsk: Gdańskie Wydawnictwo Psychologiczne, 293–447.

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Jolanta Mazurkiewicz-Sokołowska Uniwersytet Szczeciński Szczecin Poland

The process of language acquisition by a child with profound hearing loss and co-existing defects as a contribution to the proposal on the need for a comprehensive approach to the phenomenon of human language capability1 Abstract This article presents a case of language acquisition by a boy with profound hearing loss and co-existing defects. The description of the case shows that the condition for activation and effective development of linguistic capability is a multi-sensory influence focusing on developing all spheres of cognition. To be effective, the influence has to be adjusted each time to present and changeable perceptual and emotional capabilities of the child. The article draws attention to the role of i. sound, voice and input influences, especially to the role of input quality, ii. arrangement of social situations acceptable to the child, and adequate learning situations tailored to the child’s changeable mental condition, iii. prompting his own activity, activating and supporting his own, real processes of stimuli processing and storing information. The article is meant as a contribution to the proposal relating to the need for a comprehensive approach to the phenomenon of human language capability. Keywords language capability; language acquisition; language processing; congenital/developmental malformations; disorders in the process of language acquisition and language processing

1.╇Introduction This text, presenting the course of language development in a child with profound hearing loss and co-existing defects, aims to draw attention to the factors which play an important role in the effectiveness of actions stimulating language

1 Proofread by Tamsin Battershill.

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development, i.e.: i. social situations arranged and acceptable to a child, and learning situations adjusted to his changeable mental condition, ii. multisensory influence focused on all cognitive areas, iii. intentional sound, voice and linguistic effects, especially input quality, iv. prompting a child’s own activity, supporting his own processes of stimuli processing and storing information. The article is meant as a contribution to the proposal relating to the need for a comprehensive approach to the phenomenon of human language capability in its contextual entirety (neurophysiological, neuropsychological, psychosocial and cognitive predispositions, socio-cultural conditions).

2.╇ Review of literature The study of human language capability have been lasting continuously for over 50 years. Since Noam Chomsky’s “Syntactic structures”, published in 1957, where he discussed the problem of language form in the brain/mind, thereby postulating the linking of language studies with human mind functioning and shifting the aim of studies from the description of particular language systems to the description of mental representation of language in general and processes responsible for its acquisition and processing, numerous scientific approaches which tackle the issue from different perspectives have appeared. The created clarifying concepts emphasize different aspects of the problem: the behaviorist approach – the role of experience (influence of a stimulus-reaction mechanism, Skinner 1957), the nativist approach – the existence of innate linguistic capability (‘language faculty’, Chomsky, 1957, 1965, 1981, 1995; Bickerton, 1981; Pinker, 1994, 1997, 2000), the interactive approach – the role of a child’s contact with the environment (Bates/ MacWhinney, 1981, Anders, 1982), cognitive approach – the importance of cognitive processes (Piaget, 1969/1970, Langacker, 1982, 1987, 1991, Taylor, 2002). There is an increasing number of studies based on the techniques of functional neuroimaging of brain development the results of which allow to determine the relationship between brain activity (or its lack in certain regions) and language processing, with an increased accuracy (i.a. Friederici et al., 1982, Friederici, 1985, Mecklinger et al., 1995, Zurif, 1995, Schaffler et al., 1996, Schlosser, 1998, Grodzinsky, 1995, 2000, Van Heertum/Tikofsky, 2000, Toga/Maziotta, 2002). The particular approaches express the same subject of research and thereby the role of the individual components of human language capability differently. The generativists perceive language capability as a formation separated from the rest of cognition (language faculty, module, processor), being innate, genetically transmitted human equipment, which consists of highly abstract, universal rules of grammar. The cognitivists deny the existence of such a processor and 198

postulate the integrity of a language with the totality of human knowledge. The former’s main aim is to study the structure of the system of knowledge about language, the latter wishing to comprehensively study mental representation of language and processes of its acquisition and processing, choose the empirical and experimental way. This is associated with different treatment of the language material. The generativists use language examples to verify hypotheses using mainly the technique of grammatical correctness of sentences, while the cognitivists treat specific speech event as the basis of inference about mental aspects of the language, based on the analysis of visible surface features of specific statements. Interactional theories emphasize the role of input, structure of language data, discourse and conversation rules, mutual contact of a child with his environment, and with people involved in the communication. In neuroimaging studies language tasks are the basis for concluding about brain activity during their performance. The richness of literature on the subject allows a comprehensive look on the phenomenon of language capability and defining it as “the mentally conditioned entirety of human lingual behavior” (Mazurkiewicz-Sokołowska, 2010, p. 162). Language capability understood in this way is co-created by brain mechanisms responsible for acquisition and processing of the language and, forming on the basis of them and by active contact of a child with his environment, language and communication competence, enabling linguistic behavior adequate to situation. Language capability understood in this way means the necessity of consideration in the study of all partial processes that are involved in its forming, and resulting from neurological, neurophysiological, neuropsychological, cognitive, psychosocial, and socio-cultural contexts. The ideas of Vygotsky’s (1934/1986), Szuman’s (1955), and Piaget’s (1969/1970) (which keep coming back in discussions) about the connection between language and thinking, the importance of the action/activity of a child, the gaining of his own experience, the role of play in the development of speech and thinking, combined with contemporary knowledge of brain activity, its functional architecture, i.e. functional integration and effective communication between its specialized fields (Friston, 1998), supplemented by cognitive concepts stressing the role of general models of physical experience and ability to refer to them metaphorically (Taylor, 2002) give the holistic view of the phenomenon of human linguistic capability (Mazurkiewicz-Sokołowska, 2010). And such an approach allows “to construct effective, holistic stimuli impact” (Cieszyńska, 2010, p. 162), particularly important in situations where a newborn does not activate natural developmental mechanisms. In a child who comes into the world burdened with malformations, these mechanisms do not activate themselves 199

(Cieszyńska, 2010). Such a child needs specialized support in his development which, on the one hand, must rely on providing him appropriate stimuli, on the other hand, on teaching him to respond to these stimuli, their reception, processing and storing (Gazzaniga, 1992).

3.╇ Case study 3.1╇Method The case study presented here is a result of a long-term observation of language behaviour of a child in his natural environment during therapeutic meetings and lessons at school. On this basis factors were determined which influenced the boy’s speech development and his language behaviour. Subsequently, interdependencies between the factors were analysed. The main focus was on the delay and the prolongation of the process of language acquisition as well as on the changeability of the observable language behaviour, including regressive phases. The speech development and the language behaviour are presented against the background of the patient’s character features, treatment and therapy, his cognitive and manual development. The obtained data are discussed in the context of the existing theoretical views on language acquisition, especially concerning the critical period hypothesis and the role of mirror neurons.

3.2╇ Date presentation 3.2.1╇ The patient The patient is a 14 year-old boy (WS) with facial congenital malformations (asymmetry, bilateral complete cleft palate, retreating falling back tongue, mandible hypoplastic, distortion of the jaw, abnormal dentition and bite, auditory canals closed, lack of auricles, bilateral profound hearing loss: 80 and 90 dB) and with nervous system damage. The effects of malformations and damages are: frequent, chronic respiratory infections, sensory processing and emotional disorders, stereotypy, body hypersensitivity, deep sensory disturbances, short attention span, fatigue, delayed and limited physical development both in terms of fine and gross motor activities, as well as delayed and reduced cognitive development.

3.2.2╇ Treatment and therapy The child was provided with a bone-conduction hearing aid BC1 apparatus and given logopedic therapy since 4 weeks of age, provided with palatal plate since 7 weeks of age until palatal surgery at 13 months, and between 7 and 9 weeks 200

of age a chin traction was performed. Until the surgery of palate, a child is probe-fed. The child accepts the hearing aid from the beginning without any problems and takes it off only at night and for baths. Since the moment of starting logopedic treatment (at 4 weeks of age) the child is “bombarded with sound”. Hearing aid, sound and voice activities activate mechanisms of brain neuroplasticity. The child, who initially does not react in any way (neither with gesture, or with body movement, or with blink of the eye) to any sound (even the loudest sound of cymbals or drums), starts to react even to usual sounds of everyday life (sound of doorbell, ringing phone, hum of vacuum cleaner, rustle of flowing tap water, etc.), and also to human voice and speech sounds. Up to 5 years of age speech therapy classes are held mostly in the form of stationary manual and pictorial exercises combined with sound and word, onomatopoeic exercises and in front of the mirror. At 5 years of age the range of language impacts is being extended: language activities are combined with musical, rhythmic and motor exercises, systematic breathing exercises, biting exercises, KNILL program, hand therapy and massages (both face and the whole body). Language input adapted to the child’s perceptual and emotional capability accompanies all auditory, visual, olfactory, taste, touch, and motor exercises, it is present in the play, in exercises developing cause-effect thinking, categorization and memory exercises. The child works best in predictable, repeatable situations where occupational material is small, clear and legible. In situations where more people appear, the change in a known order of the day happens, and the material surpasses the boy’s perceptual capabilities, cognitive, language, and motor regression occur. The boy gets lost and loses his sense of safety. Anxiety, stress and tension cause his withdrawal and loss of contact. The boy repeats the same phrases over and over again, rearranges the objects automatically; delayed reactions of aggression, selfaggression and adhesion occur. Weather is an important factor contributing to the psycho-physical and emotional condition of the boy. Contact of the boy with a well-known and accepted person (immediate family members, carefully selected teachers) turns out to be the most favorable social and educational situation. The presence of only one person, being able to recognize and respond appropriately to the psycho-physical and emotional states of the boy, allows to eliminate the factors disturbing the psychological balance and educational efforts, effectively stimulating his development. Difficult to treat and chronic respiratory infections hinder systematic activities. Their special intensity falls within the period of 0–5 years of age. At the age of 13, a change in hearing aid has been introduced from BC1 to the bilateral Contact Mini Stereo. 201

3.2.3╇ Language development Language development in the child within speech recognition can be described as close to normal. The boy distinguishes sounds and letters, vowels and consonants, syllables in words, words in sentences and sentences in a text, can understand questions and commands directed to him, understands jokes, can capture mistakes and inaccuracies deliberately introduced into a statement. Speech production is delayed. Neither typical playing with voice, nor typical babbling phase appeared. Sounds and syllables (performed mainly as: a, ma) had to be deliberately induced (by a sound correlated with pictorial situation, a different visual stimulus, with time, with movement, stimulated by an adult). The first words: mama, am (‘to eat’, ‘I want to eat’, ‘give me food’ – baby-talk) appear around 24 months of age, whereas a child’s own one-word statements: tak (yes), nie (no), daj (give) and two-word: mama am (mum eat), daj am (give eat), tam am (there eat), daj auto (give a car), tam auto (there a car) appear at the turn of 3 and 4 years of age. Up till 6 years of age language is used by the child primarily in the function of repeating and naming, and mainly as a result of stimulation by an adult. Apparent progress in the development of speech occurs at 7 years of age: a growing freedom in the use of language as a function of repetition and naming, spontaneous speech appears gradually, including three-and multi-word statements and their frequency increases. At the turn of 11 and 12 years of age, compound sentences with conjunctions: że, żeby, jak, gdy = that, to (in order to), how, when appear; at 12 years of age a particle -by (conditional) appears in connections: gdyby (if), byłby (would be). At the turn of 13 and 14 years of age the questions kto? co? (who? what?) in active speech occur, and more complex: o której? (at what time?), z kim? (with whom?), na czym? (on what?), czym? (by what means?), used correctly in spontaneous speech, but often wrong in targeted tasks in the exercises: e.g. instead of the question: Kto je obiad? (Who is eating dinner?) a question, including also the element to which the question refers, appears. This element is present in different locations of the statement: Kto ona je obiad? (Who she is eating dinner?), Kto je ona obiad? (Who is eating she dinner?), Kto je obiad ona? (Who is eating dinner she?).

Acquisition of negation appears at the turn of 3 and 4 years of age and lasts until the turn of the 11 and 12 years of age, whereas the full stabilization of negation occurs at 13 years of age. Up to 10 years of age, negation at the end of sentence, resulting in incorrect forms, is maintained: 202

ma nie (have not) (correct form: nie ma) śpimy nie (we sleep not) (correct form: nie śpimy) ja spać nie (I to sleep not) (correct form: ja nie śpię2).

The appearance of negation before the verb causes the formation of incorrect structures with two negations: before the verb and at the end of the sentence: nie ma nie (not there is not) (correct form: nie ma) nie ma mamy nie (not there is not mum) (correct form: nie ma mamy)

The repetition of lexical units before and after the verb occurs also in the reflexive constructions and refers to the reflexive pronoun: O której ja się obudziłem się (what time I myself woke up myself) (correct form: o której ja się obudziłem or o której się obudziłem) się ubrać się (myself dress myself) (correct form: ubrać się).

The repetition of inflectional endings of words also occur: napisałem łem = I wrote3 At 12 years of age, descriptive forms appear with a use of context known to the listener in case of the listener’s misunderstanding of the word/sentence uttered: Seul – tam olimpiada dawno temu (Seul – there Olympic games long ago).

All new language elements which appear in the boy’s speech are the result of a deliberate supplying pattern in the exercises and games. Currently correct, the complex statements occur in the boy’s speech, such as: Myślę, że ona jutro wieczorem na pewno do nas zadzwoni (I think that tomorrow night she will surely call us), one- and two-word utterances, as: Zadzwoni (will call), Myślę zadzwoni (I think calls) instead of Myślę, że zadzwoni (I think that she will call) with reference to the context and ready-made expressions and phrases, as well as statements in the function of automatism, such as Zrobić ci może jeszcze herbaty? Chcesz herbaty? (Shall I make you some more tea? Do you want tea?) recurring again and again and appearing in situations of being at a loss. The quality of his statements is variable and depends on the mood and intensity of language contact of the boy in the day (necessarily with a person known and accepted by him). Mistakes rarely occur in the boy’s spontaneous speech. The boy deliberately uses inflected forms and tries to observe the rules of syntax. Articulation difficulties are characteristic for all stages of the boy’s speech development resulting from malformations of speech apparatus, variable as to 2 spać (to sleep), śpię (I sleep) 3 łem – inflectional ending: 1 person sing. (masculine) past tense

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degree of intensity depending on mood. The boy’s speech is not always understandable, even for people who know his way of articulation. The boy is aware that his statements are not always understandable. Being in a good mood, in such situation he uses descriptive forms, as the example of ‘Seul’ cited above. In a worse mood he reacts with anger.

3.2.4╇ Current cognitive and manual development The boy writes, reads and compares the numbers in the range 0–50, calculates and writes down the numbers up to 100, knows Roman numerals up to 12 and the corresponding months. He performs simple operations of adding and subtracting using concretes, uses calculator, calendar, knows the basic coins and banknotes, makes simple cash calculations in relation to shopping in a game “in a store”, reads the hours on the clock (full, half, 15 minutes after/before a given time), recognizes and names basic geometrical shapes, makes basic measurements of length. In terms of socio-natural environment and techniques he points to landscape elements, knows weather elements, has mastered the concept of time and units of time (year, month, week, hour), knows the names of the months and days of week and their order, can name them, can write the date, recognizes and names common plants and animals, reads information from maps, knows basic road signs, knows the rules of riding a bike on public roads, knows and names the means of transport, has some basic general knowledge of chosen social and political events. In terms of manual activities the boy writes and draws on the track, rewrites a text with block letters, can write simple words and sentences independently or from memory, draws straight lines, curves, circles, cuts with scissors on the track, folds paper elements, paints shapes within their contours, increases the use of different colors crayons, is becoming more self-controlled when writing, removes misspelled words with an eraser and corrects them on his own initiative. He can write sentences relating to a short picture story in a correct sequence. The boy requires greater or lesser assistance – depending on his current perceptual and emotional condition – with all the activities listed above. Mental condition also significantly affects his graphic-motoric efficiency and concentration.

3.2.5╇Discussion As shown in the case description presented in section 2, the boy’s language competence at the age of 14 is still under development. The boy uses correct, developed sentences, but also one or two word constructions with the use of context, as well as ready-made expressions and phrases that appear also as automatisms. The automatisms appear in the boy’s worse mental condition, e.g. when the weather 204

changes or in situations of being overload with stimuli. The processing of stimuli and emotions, hampered by damage to the nervous system, requires a major effort. An effort, fatigue, short attention span and stress due to situations surpassing him, often seemingly quite ordinary and simple, cause tension and insecurity. Many years of observation of the boy’s reactions show that social situation and learning situation the most appropriate for education is, in his case, contact with one, well known to him and accepted person. As mentioned in 2.2 they are members of the immediate family and carefully selected teachers. The care for the boy’s mental balance, that is providing a sense of security, predictability, and repeatability of events, slow and peaceful pace of work, the appropriate dosage of stimuli, frequent repetitions, referring to the known content, modifying tasks according to the boy’s perceptual and emotional capabilities, enhancing his self-confidence and motivation to act by continuous praise, and frequent breaks, make up a fundamental workshop for work with the boy. Observation of the boy’s linguistic development shows that the process of language acquisition does not have to stop or weaken in 12 years of age, as it is assumed by Lenneberg’s Critical Period Hypothesis (1967). The process of language acquisition in the case described above is significantly extended in time and not yet completed. The results obtained thanks to proper concern for the learning situation (obtaining the boy’s concentration on tasks, triggering his own activity and acting by stimulating his taking up imitations, encouraging co-operation and acting through verbal instruction (learning stages proposed by Tomasello 1999, 2003) seem to confirm the nature of mirror neurons’ activity (Bauer 2005), activation of the same neurological program in the observer as in a person genuinely performing the action. Such a way of working with a child, directed at his own activity and sustaining attention, thanks to obtaining children’s active involvement in tasks-games, allows the formation of memory traces (biochemical electromagnetic pathway between neurons). Neuronal activity causes formation of the myelin sheath around them, thus running the myelination process, which is a determinant of development. The thickness of sheath affects conduction time of the action potential and thus the efficiency of information processing (Spitzer, 2008, in: Cieszyńska, 2010, pp. 160–161). Early provision of a hearing aid for the boy and taking up speech therapy ensured that developmental malformations did not block speech development. The actions taken activated mechanisms of brain neuroplasticity, but only proper quality input and the relevant stimuli (also verbal) described above allowed the activation of the active voice. The development of understanding was due to regular input enhancement for specialist speech therapy activities. However, 205

such enhanced input proved to be insufficient for the full activation of speech production (although speech activities activated under the influence of logopedic exercises, but only to a limited extent and only the functions of repetition and naming). The actual activation of speech production occurred through the fusion of very specific input in the form of specific articulation exercises on the level of a sound, a syllable, a word and a sentence with musical, rhythmic, motor and breathing exercises. The quality of statements constructed by the boy currently depends on the quality and intensity of input: the larger language contact with the environment4, the more complete, richer and more frequent statements (variable and dynamic correlation, observable on the various days). As results from the case report, the input itself wouldn’t have been able to activate language development in the boy. However, the thesis limiting the role of input exclusively to a factor activating process of language acquisition does not seem possible to be held, also with reference to a healthy man. Any input undoubtedly starts the same process, but the achieved degree of linguistic capability depends on the quality of input and the overall neurophysiological, psychosocial and socio-cultural context of a child. An input understood as a specific speech event directed to a child determined by the entirety of context (experience, knowledge, situational context), thus plays both the role of a factor activating mechanism of the linguistic capabilities, and a factor dynamically shaping the process of language acquisition, as well as an important factor of maintaining the level of linguistic competence, which in the case described above is particularly evident in fluctuations of the boy’s statements quality depending on the language contact with the environment.5 The emergence of more complex conjunction structures and questions in the boy’s speech influenced by special-purpose language exercises might argue for the social-pragmatic recognition of language acquisition proposed by Tomasello, where a child learns linguistic structures by finding patterns while participating in discourses with others. In this case, the role of such an educator is performed – noted above – by some people known to the child who, through some purposeful games, consciously incorporate certain linguistic patterns. But the fact of acquisition of linguistic and communication competence through contact with the environment does not necessarily deny the existence of a universal mechanism of language. In the light of current knowledge one can assume 4 Linguistic communication adjusted to the boy’s capabilities in contact with one person. 5 This relationship is also visible in case of bi-and multilingualism, see: balanced, dominant, neutral, subtractive bilingualism (cf. i.a. Hamers/Blanc 2000).

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the existence of an integrated cerebral mechanism of language capabilities which is created by continuously penetrating mechanisms responsible for processing of strictly linguistic and non-linguistic information, which can act both as separate and embedded processors (Mazurkiewicz-Sokołowska 2010). The existence of qualitatively different structures in the speech of the 14-year old boy (from complex statements and questions to two- and one-word statements supported with non-lingual context) shows clearly the dependence of the boy’s linguistic and cognitive capabilities on his current mental state, and thus the relationship of cognitive functioning and emotions. In the states of increased anxiety and tension, clear cognitive and lingual regression occurs. The ordinary speech is replaced by automatisms in ready-made and often repeated phrases, such as: Nie wiem tego na pewno, właśnie tego nie wiem, nie wiem (I do not know it for sure, I just do not know it, I do not know) or the expression mentioned in section 2.3: Zrobić ci może jeszcze herbaty?, chcesz herbaty? (Shall I make you some more tea? Do you want tea?). Interaction of the cognitive and emotion components at the neuronal and mental level, taken with increasing confidence, found in functional neuroimaging of the brain (Damasio et al., 2000), explaining also the described linguistic behaviors of the boy, seems also to confirm indirectly the assumption of the existence of an integrated brain mechanism of linguistic capability. This mechanism, in correlation with emotion component and in interaction with input, influences the development of linguistic capabilities in a dynamic and variable way. The constructions with double negation, double reflexive pronoun, or double verb ending, maintained in the boy’s speech relatively long, could be treated as a phase of searching for a pattern based on information from the discourse with others. However such forms, as incorrect, do not occur in the input, and have been used by the boy consistently for a long period of time. Consequence and regularity in their usage and the fact that such forms are absent in the input seem to indicate the existence of a brain mechanism of language, which controls the process of language acquisition, even if in case of neurological deficits and co-existing defects with a profound hearing loss, the triggering of a linguistic activity must be expertly stimulated.

4.╇Conclusion The presented case (showing the effectiveness of complex stimulation of all cognitive spheres in learning situations adapter to the boy’s cognitive and emotional capabilities, while using input of appropriate quality for the activation 207

and development of language acquisition) seems to argue for the relevance of the comprehensive recognition of linguistic capabilities as defined in this text. Language capability understood in this way appears as a dynamic and variable creation, depending on the current mental, emotional and perceptual state of an individual. In the formation and functioning of language capabilities a key role is player by a number of factors: an appropriate input, appropriately arranged social situations, learning situations with appropriately dosed taskgames focused on active participation of a child in activities, the consolidating of his self-confidence and motivation to act, and an adequate stimulation to maintain the mental and emotional balance of a child and to counteract withdrawal while supporting the real information processing and storage. One cannot fail to emphasize the role of an early provision of a hearing aid to a child, which is obvious of course. Without this, the input would be ineffective and the mechanisms of brain neuroplasticity would not activate. Creating situations enabling the child’s own activity, active participation in activities and the actual information processing in contact with one person, which give the positive effect of visible progress in the development, allows a presumption of mirror neurons’ activity. The image as a whole seems to confirm the assumption postulated here that there exists an integrated brain mechanism of linguistic capabilities, manifesting itself by a dispersed activity of neuronal network which, within functional architecture of the brain and in interaction with external data (input, environmental influences) forms the basis of lingual functioning of a man (MazurkiewiczSokołowska 2010). Adoption of the existence of such a mechanism seems to be an essential element of the overall recognition of the phenomenon of a human language capability.

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Mecklinger, A., Schriefers, H., Steinhauer, K., & Friederici, A. D. (1995). Processing relative clauses varying on syntactic and semantic dimensions: An analysis with event-related potentials. Memory and Cognition 23 (4): 477–494. Piaget, J. (1969/1970). Science of education and the psychology of the child. New York: Orion Press. Pinker, S. (1994). The language instinct. New York: Morrow. Pinker, S. (1997). How the mind works. New York: Norton. Pinker, S. (2000). Survival of the clearest. Nature 404: 441–442. Schaffler, L., Lüders, H. O., & Beck, G. J. (1996). Quantitative comparison of language deficits produced by extraoperative electrical stimulation of Broca’s, Wernike’s and basal temporal language areas. Epilepsia 37: 463–475. Schlosser, M. J., Aoyagi, N., Fulbright, R. K., Gore, J. C., & McCarthy, G. (1998). Functional MRI studies of auditory comprehension. Hum. Brain Mapp. 6: 1–13. Skinner, B. F. (1957). Verbal behavior. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts. Szuman, S. (1955). Rola działania w rozwoju umysłowym małego dziecka. Wrocław: Ossolineum. Taylor, J. R. (2002). Cognitive grammar. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Toga, A. W., & Mazziotta, J. C. (Eds.) (2002). Brain Mapping. The methods. New York: Academic Press Tomasello, M. (1999). The Cultural Origins of Human Cognition. Harvard: Harvard University Press. Tomasello, M. (2003). Constructing a Language: A Usage-Based Theory of Language Acquisition. Harvard: Harvard University Press. Van Heertum, R. L., & Tikofsky, R. S. (2000). Cerebral SPECT Imaging. New York: Raven Press. Vygotsky, L. (1934/1986). Thought and Language. Cambridge, MA:.MIT Press. Zurif, E. B. (1995). Brain regions of relevance to syntactic processing. In Gleitman, L., & Liberman, M. (Eds.) Invitation to cognitive sciences. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

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Maciej Paprocki University of Wroclaw, Wroclaw, Poland

Infecting the body politic? Modern and post-modern (ab)use of Immigrants Are Invading Pathogens metaphor in American socio-political discourse1 Abstract As an exceptionally rich analogy, the body politic continues to influence contemporary conceptual systems, although quite differently to those of the pre-Enlightenment era. In recent years, the idea of the macroscopic correspondence between the human body and society has been reinterpreted as THE SOCIETY IS A HUMAN BODY metaphor, with Cognitive scholars re-examining previous findings of cultural criticism in terms of CMT and CBT. The rhetorical efficacy of this metaphor stems from the ease of blending its two constituent domains into complex, yet comprehensible wholes; in fact, these domains have coalesced to a degree, as there was a period when every mention of the BODY implied a (sub)conscious commentary on the SOCIETY, and vice versa. An adaptive metaphor, the body politic stands as a touchstone of the political beliefs of those who employ it. In the paper I analyse a particularly pervasive subset of micrometaphors that form a part of the modern body politic analogy, namely, the IMMIGRANTS ARE INVADING PATHOGENS metaphors. I demonstrate how the (post)modern American political discourse employs the analogy of the body politic in order to lay the blame for all social ills on immigrants, likening foreigners to germs, parasites and other pathogens that creep into America. Keywords discourse analysis; the body politic; Conceptual Metaphor Theory; medicalised nativism; biopolitics; contagion discourse; American political discourse; immigrants; anthropology of the body; history of medicine and the body; anthropology of health and illness; border studies

1 Proofread by Sara Macleod.

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1.╇Introduction 1.1╇Pathologising the American body politic: a postmodern approach Societies in times of change and upheaval can cope with ongoing difficulties in diverse ways. Crisis may be conceptualised as an opportunity for betterment of the society; alternatively, some societies prefer to approach their problems in a less proactive manner, attempting to blame others for their real or imaginary misfortunes. To find an appropriate scapegoat is not very difficult; to place blame convincingly on said scapegoat is more problematic and demands special discursive strategies (Pernick, 2002, p. 862). The discourse of blame is often developed by more traditional, homogenous societies which cherish orthodox social structures, zealously defend their borders against foreign intrusion and are suspicious towards immigrants (Healy, 1999, p. 66; Paprocki, in press).2 Surprisingly enough, it appears that in the postmodern American society—which is almost entirely composed of immigrants and their descendants—there are groups which employ anti-immigrant discursive practices. In this paper, I demonstrate how the (post) modern American political discourse has been employing the great analogy of the body politic in order to lay the blame for all social ills on immigrants, likening foreigners to germs, parasites and other pathogens that creep into America.

1.2╇Cognitive underpinnings of the body politic analogy The body politic trope is an offshoot of the pervasive Western belief in the macroscopic correspondence between the human body and society (Hale, 1971; Musolff, 2007, p. 25–26). As an exceptionally rich and vibrant analogy, the comparison between the body and society first appeared in the Classical Antiquity, in the works of Plato (f.e. Republic, Book 9, section 6, 556e; Musolff, 2010, p. 81). The analogy enjoyed great popularity in pre-modern Europe, when “writers […] proved themselves extraordinarily deft in establishing connections between the components of bodies natural and politic” (Harris, 1998, p. 1; cf. Musolff, 2010, pp. 81–120); it dwindled to a degree in importance after the Enlightenment, only to resurface in the 19th and 20th century socio-political discourses (Coker, 1910/2001; Park, 1921; Wald, 2002). Today, it continues to influence contemporary conceptual systems, although it has often been creatively reworked in order to depict more accurately the protean contemporary political milieu (Musolff, 2003, 2010; Sarasin, 2008). 2 See Douglas (1966) for an insightful account on types of cultures that are prone to developing the border paranoia.

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In terms of cognitive research, the first scholar who studied the body politic in depth was Andreas Musolff. Applying the findings of Conceptual Metaphor Theory (CMT) and Conceptual Blending Theory (CBT), Musolff studied how the German Nazi exploited the body politic analogy in order to discursively equate Jews with parasites creeping into the body of Germany to subdue it (Hawkins, 2001; Musolff, 2007, 2010, 2012).3 In his studies, Musolff pointed out several highly unusual features of The society is a human body metaphor. The domains of both the body and the society are simultaneously abstract and concrete, a feature that facilitates two-directional mappings (Musolff, 2010, pp. 139–141)—or, in Stockwell’s terms, promotes domain interanimation (Stockwell, 2002, p. 111; Paprocki, in press). Because they possess very elaborate internal structures, these domains yield easily to diverse types of mappings and can be blended into complex, yet comprehensible wholes (Chilton, 2005, p. 39 as cited in Musolff, 2010, pp. 19–20; cf. Musolff, 2010, pp. 26–28, 139–141; Paprocki, in press). In fact, their conceptual affinity in the Early Modern era was so close that there was a period when every mention of the body implied a (sub)conscious commentary on the society, and vice versa (Harris, 1998, pp. 19–20). This is not to say that these domains were entirely fused in cognitive terms; however, from the vantage point of discourse analysis, the medical and political discourses were definitely linked with inordinately strong conceptual bonds (Harris, 2004, p. 138). In the following sections, I build on Musolff ’s finds in order to investigate how such mappings have been refashioned to brand incoming immigrants as pathogens seeping into the body politic of America. I begin with a selective historical survey of the body politic analogy, as used in the pre-modern era. First, I describe two dominant medical paradigms of the origin of diseases. The earlier paradigm of Galen ascribed diseases to internal humour imbalance, whereas the later paradigm of Paracelsus imputed maladies to intrusion of external contagion; both paradigms were appropriated by contemporary political discourses. The discourse influenced by Galen advocated co-operation and social harmony; in contrast, the discourse built on Paracelsian thought blamed intruding foreigners and minorities for social ills. Body-society analogies were revived by the 19th and 20th c. functionalist sociologists such as Émile Durkheim, who began to contemplate how to assimilate noxious social parasites into the body politic again. These sociological assimilation fantasies resonated strongly 3 For an earlier analysis of the Nazi policy of likening Jews to parasites, see Bein (1964). Jews had been blamed for spreading diseases even before WW1: Weindling (2000) demonstrates how late19th/early 20th century German medical authorities accused Eastern European Jews of spreading typhus.

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with a faction of contemporary American society who believed that their nation would become the proverbial melting pot in which masses of immigrants would coalesce into a new, glorious whole. Unfortunately, fears of the other appear to have prevailed: A vocal subset of Americans have been apportioning blame for their misfortunes to foreigners, employing rhetorical strategies, such as scapegoat formulas and metaphor contraction. Mappings equating foreigners with pathogens were present in American political discourse from its very beginning; for instance, in 1793 Haitians were blamed for yellow fever that ravaged Philadelphia (Eisenberg, 2012; Murphy, 2003). However, their first major peak of popularity was in the 1910s, when immigrants, foreigners and bolshevist radicals were mentally linked to concurrent health scares and subsequently blamed for spreading disease (Eisenberg, 2012). Although they were never truly abandoned after the 1910s, it was from the 1950’s onwards that such mappings received renewed impetus in the American political discourse, being especially prominent during the Cold War and the War on Terror. In the final section of this article, I investigate salient features of such mappings and hypothesise why they continue to resonate with modern Americans.

2.╇The body politic pathologised: the pre-modern search for the origin of social ills 2.1╇The Galenic paradigm of internal imbalance versus the protomicrobiological theory and external, „invisible bullets“ of contagion As it has been mentioned before, the body politic analogy was fully verbalised for the first time in Plato’s works; nonetheless, its most influential ancient restatement appears in the works of Galen, a 2nd c. Greek physician. According to Galen, humans were made of four elemental humours: blood, yellow bile, black bile and phlegm; sickness was conceptualised as a result of internal imbalance of the humours, curable if the said balance were to be redressed (Healy, 1995, pp. 38–40; Schoenfeldt, 1999, pp. 4–7). Intellectually dominant from the Classical Antiquity to the 17th century, the Galenic mode of thought was swiftly mapped onto the socio-political discourse of that period. Organs and limbs working together in harmony for the greater good of the body were likened to social strata, cooperating amicably in society. Pre-Modern mappings of the body onto the society were not axiologically neutral and tended to support the social regime in which they were promulgated (Archambault, 1967, p. 22; Hale, 1968, pp. 377–378); for instance, the ever-important head almost universally denoted the reigning ruler (Musolff, 2010, p. 81–83). Illness resulted from a lack of cooperation between 214

social strata: to re-establish cooperation was to quell social unrest (Hale, 1968, pp. 377–378). Hence, in terms of Conceptual Metaphor Theory, illness was marked with internality; health was compared to social cooperation and to heal was to reconcile warring factions within. Granted, Galen and his predecessors and followers knew of contagious diseases and they suspected that some contagions—or miasmas—may enter the body from the outside, should said body have a weak constitution (Nutton, 1983; Healy, 1995, pp. 40–42); nevertheless, the chief cause of disease was always the humoral imbalance. The humoral paradigm reigned supreme until the 16th century, when two physicians—Paracelsus and Girolamo Fracastoro—almost at the same time proposed a theory according to which diseases originated outside the body (Harris, 2004, 141–142; Healy, 1995, pp. 268–269; Nutton, 1983, pp. 21–22; Pagel, 1958, pp. 134–140). According to Paracelsus and Fracastoro, bodies infected by some types of diseases produced little particles of contagion (seminaria/ homunculi), which floated in the air, entered other bodies via various orifices and pores, attached themselves to certain humours and caused symptoms of the illnesses that produced them (Harris, 2004, 141–142; Nutton, 1983, pp. 21–22); thus, the protoâ•‚microbiological theory of disease was born. Correspondingly, the political discourse of Early Modern Europe underwent a paradigm shift: Social unrest was thought to be caused by actions of malicious foreigners, immigrants and non-normative minorities—such as Jews, heretics or witches— who had infiltrated the borders of the body politic and were destroying it from within (Harris, 1998, pp. 15, 316–318, 2004, p. 142). The new paradigm facilitated the development of a new blame apportioning schema: From that time on, “the attribution of social disease to foreign bodies was […] often part of a concerted attempt to displace popular perception of the causes of social illness from […] powerful internal agents to exotic, easily vilified bogeymen” (Harris, 2004, p. 142). Accordingly, a crop of entirely new micro-metaphors emerged in later political treatises. As the nascent proto-microbiological discourse conceptualised the disease as an external agent, the concomitant political discourse equated foreigners with particles of contagion, which seep through the borders— or orifices—of the body politic to feed on its humours and cause diseases. However, at this point it should be firmly stressed that what has been termed a paradigm shift was not a sudden, irreversible abandonment of one mode of thinking and a wholehearted adoption of another. The protoâ•‚microbiological theory was built on the premises of Galenism and its followers were unable to completely transcend humoralism (Nutton, 1983); in fact, “versions of the humoral paradigm of disease continued to hold sway in the medical establishment until the mid-seventeenth century” (Harris, 2004, p. 142). Granted, the 215

theory of the external origin of contagions appeared to be much more influential among politicians than among physicians (Harris, 1998, pp. 19–75, 2004, p. 142). However, inasmuch as some pre-Modern rhetoricians and writers may have wanted to appropriate the Paracelsian paradigm in order to pin the blame for social ills on certain undesirables, they could not completely eradicate the Galenic plea for internal coâ•‚operation that still reverberated in the minds of their contemporaries.4 Harris perceptively observed that one should not “homogenize uses of the metaphor from any one ‘era,’ in the process flattening out important ideological and political differences in its various applications” (1998, p. 147). Particular reiterations of the body politic analogy have repeatedly fallen in and out of favour, their respective popularity or lack thereof heavily dependent “on a constellation of historically specific circumstances” (Pernick, 2002, p. 863). What is more, there is always “the possibility of more than one [paradigm of knowledge] existing at any one historical moment” (Harris, 1998, p. 147).

2.2╇Pathology or a natural deviation? Functionalist sociology and the ambivalence of contagion. It should be noted that in the Early Modern period, the very notion of pathogen was marked with a degree of axiological ambivalence. Contagions were conceptualised as agents having the potential to do both harm and good: For instance, Paracelsus claimed that the presence of a noxious agent could stimulate vital powers of an organism to the point of it becoming stronger than it had been before (as cited in Harris, 1998, p. 52). For Paracelsus, the starting point may have been the inherent ambiguity present in the Ancient Greek word pharmakon: Originally, it could denote either a medicinal drug or a poison (Harris, 1998, pp. 51–52).5 This ambivalence inspired the physician to develop the iatrochemical theory of homeopathy, according to which an application of small amounts of poison could have a medicinal or prophylactic effect (Harris, 4 Some later writers of sociopolitical commentaries have been quite reluctant to accept the premises of proto-microbiological paradigms; for instance, a Scottish-English poet named Phineas Fletcher (1582–1650) still largely subscribed to the Galenic vision of a balanced society characterized by “communal accord and social reciprocity” (Bayer, 2002, p. 250). 5 A direct result of that mode of thinking is the belief in the curative power of homeopathy. Harris convincingly demonstrates that at least since the third century BC, European pharmacists and physicians blurred the division between the poison and the antidote. The proof of this former conceptual fuzziness may be discerned in the similarity of the English words potion and poison. See Harris (1998), pp. 51–52.

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1998, pp. 14, 49–52). Subsequently, theories of Paracelsus were creatively reformulated by scholars working in the nascent field of sociology. At the turn of the twentieth century, functionalist sociologists such as Alfred Radcliffe-Brown (1881–1955) or David Émile Durkheim (1858–1917) began to consciously employ “biological models of society, in large part to legitimise their work as ‘scientific,’ but also to explain the ways in which the various components of a social ‘organism’ function to maintain its integrity” (Harris, 1998, p. 4).6 Their model assumed that societies—as organisms—strive to preserve homeostatic equilibrium; should a social deviation arise, it would be overcome, eventually making the social organism even fitter (Harris, 2004, p. 144–146). Of particular importance to this study is Durkheim’s inconsistent use of organic metaphors. Inspired by theories of Paracelsus, Fracastoro and finally, of Louis Pasteur and other microbiologists (Harris, 2004, p. 147), Durkheim fleetingly compared the criminal element in the society to a parasite, “a foreign, unassimilable body introduced into the bosom of society” (1895/1982, p. 102). Nevertheless, he immediately retracted his words, explicitly stating—in true spirit of Galen—that no part of the body politic is truly abnormal, foreign or without use (Harris, 2004, p. 147). Durkheim’s withdrawal betrays his conceptual wavering between two aetiologies of social disease—his unwillingness to claim that social pathology is inherently negative. This ambivalence towards social pathology mirrors to a degree Paracelsian ambivalence towards poisons. Both could be beneficial to the system if tightly controlled and present only in minor quantities (Harris, 1998, pp. 4–8, 12–14). Admittedly, Durkheim’s argument lacks internal coherence due to his inability to fully follow either Paracelsian or Galenic aetiology of social pathology. Despite this shortcoming, his social model gained in popularity; its driving force was Durkheim’s ultrapragmatic conviction that social poisons and pathologies—or foreigners—may be exploited for the greater good of the body politic (Harris, 2004, p. 146).

3.╇Modern American containment discourse 3.1╇Four paradigms of ethnic adaptation What eventually became the United States of America began as a string of British colonies on the eastern coast; nonetheless, the majority of contemporary

6 For instances of organic society analogies in works of these sociologists, see RadcliffeBrown’s essay “On the Concept of Function in Social Science” (1935) and Durkheim’s Rules of Sociological Method (1895/1982), especially p. 86.

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Americans trace their descent from countless immigrants from non-Englishspeaking countries, who have been coming to the United States ever since the nation’s nascence. The society which started to emerge had its share of problems, as immigrants of different extractions and faiths had to rapidly learn how to live together. Should these “ethnic divisions [break] down […] over time, or [should] they remain fixed and impermeable” (McDonald, 2007, p. 49)? How should WASP Americans react to a sudden influx of foreigners into their borders and what was the Anglo-Saxon vision of the future of the American society? Jason McDonald concluded that, having to face the questions above, American social engineers of the late 19th/early 20th century devised four great visions of what America should become in terms of ethnic diversity; every grand vision was in turn rephrased in terms of several explanatory metaphors which compared the American society to certain objects (2007, pp. 49–50). The school of assimilationism (1.) claimed that ethnic divides would disappear in the future, but could not agree whether immigrants (a) should attempt to produce an entirely novel culture or (b) should be forced to conform to the Anglo-Saxon model (2007, p. 50). The first subset of assimilationists likened America to a melting pot (McDonald, 2007, p. 51), in which “the immigrants were Americanized, liberated, and fused into a mixed race, English in neither nationality nor characteristics” (Turner, 1920/1962, p. 23). Popularised by Isaac Zangwill’s drama The Melting Pot (1909), this idealistic model was soon derided as unsustainable: Apparently, the American establishment wanted immigrants not only to lose their former culture, but also to conform to theirs (McDonald, 2007, pp. 50–55). Thus, one might say that the melting pot of Zangwill was transformed into a pickling jar, in which all immigrants-vegetables, no matter what their original taste, were meant to slowly acquire the uniform taste of the American pickle. In turn, the pluralist school of thought (2) claimed that ethnic differences should be preserved (a), likening the United States to a salad bowl or a mosaic, in which particular ethnicities retain their differences, but enjoy equal rights (McDonald, 2007, p. 55). However, pluralist strategies also had their darker side. The noble goal of preserving ethnic distinctiveness was often realised through ethnic/racial segregation and through prioritising of certain white cultures over the ‘non-standard’ ones (b); thus, it appears that certain ethnic ingredients in the American salad were deemed more palatable than other, less savoury ones (McDonald, 2007, 58–61). Today, it is known that “the use of such metaphors […] clouds more than it clarifies our understanding” of such a complex and multifaceted process as ethnic adaptation (Buenker & Ratner, 1992, p. 3); nonetheless, metaphors—especially of contagion—continue to appear in the socio-political discourse. 218

3.2╇Failure of the melting pot fantasy and infection scares (19th c. – 1950s) The contagion metaphor was reintroduced into the ethnic adaptation discourse through the terminological and conceptual debt the emergent science of sociology had incurred to bacteriology. Functionalist sociologists in America, wishing to present their findings in a more ‘scientific’ manner, consciously began to appropriate microbiological terminology (Wald, 2002, pp. 654–655). For example, in anthropology, culture meant ‘a particular form or type of intellectual development.’ In bacteriology, it meant the “development of microorganisms, especially bacteria, in specially prepared media.” Culture now could mean either a group of people with a particular way of doing things or a crop of contagious germs. (Pernick, 2002, p. 862)

Introduction of new microbiological paradigms in sociology roughly coincided with a sudden influx of immigrants in the United States (Wald, 2002; Eisenberg, 2012); accordingly, functionalists endeavoured to describe interactions between immigrants and Americans in terms of microbiology (Wald, 2002; Eisenberg, 2012). Arguably, one of the most salient examples of such metaphorisation may be found in the works of Robert E. Park (1864–1944). One of the founding fathers of the Chicago School of sociology, Park advocated conformistassimilation schemes, studying how immigrants did or did not conform to the Anglo-Saxon model (Morawska, 1994, p. 77; Wald, 2002, pp. 664–666; McDonald, 2007, p. 51). The Chicago School scholars adhered to the view that assimilation was essentially a two-way lane: Americans could Americanise foreigners, yet foreigners could also foreignise Americans (Wald, 2002, p. 666).7 Park paraphrased this process in microbiological terms. Immigrants could infect Americans with their cultural contagion, but then again, a stay in America could infect foreigners with communicable Americanism (Wald, 2002, pp. 664–664). Park’s organic metaphor resembled Durkheim’s stance in that it blurred to a degree the body-pathogen divide. Both American and foreign cultures were likened to bacterial cultures which would colonise each other’s Petri dishes. However, the assimilationist belief in Anglo-Saxon cultural supremacy resurfaced in Park’s axiologically biased terminology: foreigners were branded as a contagion, whereas Americans received no such label. Despite Park’s attempts at theorising away the divide between Americans and foreigners, the majority of Anglo-Saxon population in the late 19th and early 20th century distrusted immigrants and conceptually linked them with epidemics of more and less exotic diseases that periodically ravaged the American body 7 See Park and Burgess’ Introduction to the Science of Sociology (1921), p. 735.

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politic. The conceptual link was fostered by physical proximity of alleged carriers: Exotic diseases, previously safely sequestered in the tropical regions, were thought to creep into America via the bodies of entering immigrants, who settled in microbiologically tainted Third World spaces of ghettos (Craddock, 2008, p. 192). The emergent American nexus of xenophobia and mysophobia was eventually fossilised in a form of ‘medicalised nativism’, the conviction that the language of contagious disease can and should be used to defend antiâ•‚ immigrant practices (Kraut, 1995, p. 3; Wald, Tomes & Lynch, 2002, p. 619). The immigration peak lasting from the 1880s to the 1920s was concomitant with several major health scares that were discursively connected with immigrant communities (Humphreys, 2002, pp. 852–853). The Jews were accused of spreading typhus in 1892; in turn, Italians were associated with the polio cases in New York City in 1916 (Humphreys, 2002, pp. 852–853). The Chinese community was particularly stigmatised for—purportedly—being a vector of transmission of smallpox in 1868, 1876, 1881 and 1887 and for spreading bubonic plague in 1900 and 1904 (Craddock, 1995; Humphreys, 2002, pp. 849, 852; Keil & Ali, 2008, p. 160–161; Kraut, 1995, p. 4). Gradually, the metaphor stating that foreigners are vectors of transmission of pathogens underwent what I term metaphor contraction: With prolonged use, it was easier and easier to drop the middle of the phrase and simply state that foreigners are pathogens.8

3.3╇Post-modern American containment discourse (1950s – current) 3.3.1╇Cold War and the Soviet contagion Mappings between foreigners and pathogens did not disappear from the American social discourse after the 1920s.9 Nonetheless, it was only in the 1950s, during 8 See Wald (2002), p. 665. Immigrants were not the only group that had been linked to the spread of infectious diseases. Between 1900 and 1920, American political discourse conceptually linked the spread of Bolshevik ideology to several health scares of that period. The resultant approach was that radicals, foreigners and leftists could and would implant diseases into the American body politic. During the First World War, it was Germany which began to be associated with noxious pathogens. For instance, it was announced by American authorities in 1917 that Germans attempted to sell typhus- and tetanus-contaminated soap to American customers: ironically enough, detergent could become a vector of disease. For an excellent and thorough account of pre-WW2 cases of Americans associating radicals and foreigners with diseases, see Eisenberg (2012). 9 During the war, Germans, Italians and the Japanese were regularly likened by the American press to lice and cockroaches which have to be extirpated with insecticides

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the Cold War, that these metaphors regained widespread popularity, the popularity which would only be overshadowed by an upsurge of viral metaphors during the War on Terror (Mayer & Weingart, 2012, p. 143). The Cold War discourse was characterised by rampant abuse of immunology metaphors which demonised the Soviets as polluters of American food, water and minds (Ross, 1989, pp. 45–47). The worst of these three was the mental pollution of communism, which America had to contain. Containment is a medical term that had been first used in a political context by an American politician George F. Kennan in his 1947 article, “The Sources of Soviet Conduct” (Harris, 2004, 139–140). In medicine, “to contain a disease is to prevent its entry into the body, or to diminish its effects once it has invaded” (Harris, 2004, pp. 139–140). It was the second part of that definition that particularly resonated with the anti-Soviet activists; the Soviet menace might have already surreptitiously entered America and the nation should pull together so that the pathogens would not be able to subdue the United States (Kennan, 1947). “World communism [was] a malignant parasite, which [fed] only on diseased tissue” (Kennan, 1947); thus, America had to preserve its ideological health—virtues of freedom and democracy—in order to eradicate the contagion from within. As Harris eloquently observed, “Containment of an external threat thus shaded into, even as it concealed, containment of elements within the body politic” (2004, p. 140).

3.3.2╇War on Terror and the re-emergence of contagion discourse It was in the 1980s and in the 1990s that the language of foreign contagion had begun to gain renewed impetus in the American discourse (Mayer, 2007; Sarasin 2008). However, what truly made it resonate with many Americans was the World Trade Center attack. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks, terrorists began to be likened in the press to exotic, “lethal viruses” that “rode the flow of the world’s aerial circulatory system” (Harris, 2004, p. 143; Hertzberg, 2001). Similar viral metaphors followed. In his speech to the US Congress, Tony Blair called terrorism “a new and deadly virus” which thrived in a mixed medium of “poverty, dictatorial regimes, and fundamentalist Islam” (BBC, 2003; Sarasin 2008). In 2005, Stares and Yacoubian published their “Terrorism as

(Russell, 1996). Ironically enough, Hitler also compared Jews to repulsive insects; moreover, plans of Jewish extermination were eerily similar to vermin extinction schemes, with Zyklon B being first used as a pesticide (Musolff, 2010, pp. 12–13).

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Virus” article in The Washington Post, in which they painstakingly reimagined world terrorism as an infectious, ideological virus that spread through “mosques, madrassas, prisons, the Internet, satellite TV” and other vectors of transmission; their article made a covert plea to give the government more power so that it could contain this dangerous Islamic contagion more effectively (Stares & Yacoubian 2005). The viral metaphor was arguably most completely developed in a speech “The Bush Administration’s Response to September 11—and Beyond” by one Richard N. Haass, a representative of the U.S. Department of State, which was made on October 15, 2001 (Mayer 2007, p. 5). Haass reiterates the point others have made. Terrorism is a virus which can spread and infect the body of America, a virus against the invasion of which prophylactic measures have to be taken and which, once identified, has to be expelled from the body politic (Haass, 2001; Mayer, 2007, p. 5; Mayer & Weingart 2012, p. 143–144). What distinguishes his speech is the conceptual blurring of the divide between the oppressed body and the noxious virus (Mayer, 2007, p. 5; Mayer & Weingart, 2012, p. 143–144). Haass admits that terrorism has been a latent virus that has “[found] a supportive host” in American society. Some of the terrorists were immigrants who had lived, as dormant viruses, in the American suburbs, had studied at American universities and participated in simple pleasures of American life—and, suddenly, they turned virulent and attacked the body which hosted them (Haass, 2001). Three remarks can be made about the post-WTC use of viral metaphors. First, it should be stressed that virus talk is often employed by those lobbying to give more power to the American government so that it could more easily detect and expel certain undesirables from the body politic. Obviously, the greater the power given, the greater the potential for its abuse; oftentimes, the use of such metaphors legitimises “totalitarian social policy, which tends to ‘obliterate individual human rights in the name of public health’” of the body politic (Eisenberg, 2012). Secondly, Haass and other viral talk exponents tend to alternately personalise and depersonalise the terrorist threat. Some immigrants are either vectors of transmission of terrorism virus or are simply equated with viruses (Mayer, 2007, p. 5–6) —in the post-WTC terrorist paranoia, nonâ•‚inflammatory language is not a priority and metaphor contraction can run rampant. Thirdly, by admitting the presence of viruses within America, Haass confuses the clear-cut dichotomy of ‘us’ and ‘them’, ‘outside’ and ‘inside’ (Mayer, 2007, p. 5; Mayer & Weingart, 2012, p. 143–144): It becomes possible to conceive of a nightmarish anti-assimilation scenario according to which groups of immigrants, previously 222

thought to have been safely absorbed, food-like, into the American body politic, would decide to rebel and strike against the American corpus politicum. In other words, what once nourished America may have very well been a foodstuff laced with latent pathogens. An interesting fact is that the post-modern American food security discourse does display a preoccupation with microbiological purity of imported, exotic foodstuffs (King, 2008, pp. 203–204). The most ambivalent and symbolically charged foodstuff appears to be animal meat, simultaneously a nourishing meal and a piece of dead flesh (Probyn 1999; Robbins, 1999). If it is highlighted that “75 percent of all emerging diseases of the past two decades”— diseases most often ‘exotic’ in nature—are zoonotic in origin, then it is not difficult to imagine why imported meat of exotic animal species could be suspected of harbouring pathogens (Jackson, 2008, p. 286). In this respect, the pervasive metaphor stating that you are what you eat is of particular significance: If one eats exotic, potentially microbiologically unsafe species of animals, then one becomes exoticised, foreignised and pathologised. Again, it is immigrants who bear the brunt of such mappings. In the wake of the SARS epidemic in 2003, people of Chinese extraction were once again stigmatised as vectors of disease due to their practice of occasionally eating wild civet cats slaughtered in supposedly unhygienic wet markets (Keil & Ali, 2008). Thus, foreigners who eat exotic, unsafe food might be associated with food-borne contagions themselves. To add to the main points of this section, three other remarks may be made. First, the effectiveness of foreign contagion metaphors stems from their natural appeal. Such metaphors “draw heavily on—and gain tremendous authority from” the language of natural sciences they exploit and, by doing so, they attain the air of being less arbitrary and more objective (Mayer & Weingart, 2012, p. 139–140). Secondly, such metaphors tend to depersonalise terrorists: Suddenly, the counter-terrorism pursues not human beings who happen to be terrorists but rather the impersonal germ of terrorism (Mayer & Weingart 2012). Thirdly, in the increasingly fragmented world where issues are rarely black and white rampant abuse of such inflammatory metaphors causes the discourse to “collapse into an uncontrollable dynamics in which good and evil constantly switch roles. Counterterror is, in other words, perceived as terror and thus provokes (counter-)counterterror and so on” (Mayer & Weingart, 2012, p. 150). What results is a string of nations passing blame from one to another. In the late 19th century, Germans accused Eastern European Jews of spreading typhus (Weindling, 2000). In 1917, Americans claimed Germans attempted to sell them soap laced with typhus and 223

tetanus germs (Eisenberg, 2012). In 2014, the former President of Iran Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani declared that “the Western-backed terrorism in Afghanistan and Iraq” was a virus that would mutate and strike against those who spread it in the first place—that is, Americans. Due to the interanimation of their constituent domains, contagion metaphors can undergo rapid domain reversals—as a result, the oppressor and the victim become simple labels, to be switched at leisure.10

4.╇Metaphors of social pathology: a scapegoat formula What has been presented above is what may be called ‘a history’ of a metaphor, a very selective survey of cases when immigrants have been compared to invading pathogens in the modern American political discourse. At this point one should attempt to answer how these mappings function as a group in conceptual systems of contemporary Americans. I believe that these mappings are more than simply a cluster of related metaphors, linked together by family resemblances. In fact, the analysed examples belong to an everâ•‚growing series of formulaic analogues—similar yet separate metaphors which share a common design, but are realised differently in different socio-political contexts. What links them together is what I call a scapegoat formula, a fill-in-the-blanks metaphor that has ‘a foreign ethnic group’ for a target domain and ‘a noxious pathogen’ for a source domain (see Fig. 1). By substituting appropriate ethnic groups and appropriate, currently salient infectious diseases, we produce mappings such as Islamic terrorists are viruses, Soviets are pathogens or the Chinese are (vectors of) smallpox. The last example demonstrates that such conceptual mappings are particularly pervasive when ethnic groups are blamed for transmitting certain types of diseases; in such cases, foreignerpathogen metaphors may indeed arise from metaphor contraction. Consequently, in every quoted instance of contagion talk in Fig. 1, a part which might be omitted by contraction was placed in parentheses for clarity.

10 The phenomenon of reversible contagion metaphors was noted by Jonathan Xavier Inda (2000), who observed that such mappings were prone to what he called ‘chiastic reversals’: each side of the conflict will claim to be the oppressed victim, locking themselves in a tug-of-war blame game, unwinnable and ever-escalating. See Inda (2000), Paprocki (in press).

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Figure 1: The list of American realisations of the scapegoat formula Scapegoat formula – American realisations

Year of use

A FOREIGN ETHNIC GROUP

IS

A NOXIOUS PATHOGEN

HAITIANS

ARE

(CARRIERS OF) YELLOW FEVER

1793

THE CHINESE

ARE

(CARRIERS OF) SMALLPOX

1868, 1876, 1881, 1887

JEWS

ARE

(CARRIERS OF) TYPHUS

1892

THE CHINESE

ARE

(CARRIERS OF) THE BUBONIC PLAGUE

1900, 1904

ITALIANS

ARE

(CARRIERS OF) POLIO

1916

GERMANS

ARE

IMMIGRANTS

ARE

A SOCIAL CONTAGION

1920s

GERMANS, ITALIANS AND JAPANESE

ARE

VERMINOUS INSECTS

1940s

SOVIETS

ARE

PATHOGENS

1950s

COMMUNISTS

ARE

MALIGNANT PARASITES

1950s

TERRORISTS

ARE

LETHAL VIRUSES

2001

TERRORISM

IS

A NEW AND DEADLY VIRUS

2003

THE CHINESE

ARE

(VECTORS OF TRANSMISSION OF) SARS

2003

WORLD TERRORISM

IS

AN IDEOLOGICAL VIRUS

2005

(SELLERS OF SOAP LACED WITH) TYPHUS AND TETANUS

1917

5.╇Conclusion: why does America fear the foreign contagion? At the end of this analysis it would be advisable to ponder why the people of the United States feared and continue to fear foreigners in spite of the fact that immigrants have been a part of America since its beginning. An intriguing hypothesis has been put forward by Stephen Greenblatt (1981) and subsequently reformulated by Jonathan Gil Harris (2004). Americans as a nation have no single ethnic origin. Moreover, they do not even have a single ancestral land, as the land they live in was forcefully wrestled from Native Americans. These conditions caused a degree of spatial and cultural uprootedness. If Park’s microbiological terminology is accepted, it may be stated that arriving Europeans infected Native Americans—literally and figuratively—with previously unknown diseases and with their culture (Davis, 2002, Greenblatt, 1989; Harris, 2004). Having subdued 225

Native Americans, the emergent nation of the United States chose to accept and assimilate masses of immigrants, in the process exposing itself to infection by foreign cultures. Fearing the fate of their Native predecessors, Americans began to monitor their borders and screen incoming immigrants (Harris, 2004). The prevailing assumption was that the Anglo-Saxon cultural model had to be preserved or otherwise other ethnicities would foreignise Americans with their cultural contagion (Wald, 2002). Every forceful intrusion of unwholesome, sickened foreigners would reawaken fears of microbiological subjugation, anxieties of dissolution, nightmare scenarios in which America collapsed into the same unordered hodgepodge of cultures and ethnic groups it arose from (Davis, 2002; Harris 2004; Wald, 2002). Metaphors likening immigrants and foreigners to germs and diseases are thus only one of the many socio-political techniques that serve to strengthen the conservative conceptual division between ‘us’ and ‘them’, between the American civilization of freedom and the barbaric rest of the world. In times of growing tensions, it may be expected that such metaphors will continue to appear. One can only hope that future analyses of American political discourse will continue to expose the political agenda behind these seemingly innocuous mappings.

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Musolff, A. (2003). Ideological functions of metaphor: the conceptual metaphors of health and illness in public discourse. In R. Dirven, R. M. Frank, & M. Pütz (Eds.), Cognitive models in language and thought. Ideology, metaphors and meanings (pp. 327–352). New York, NY: Mouton de Gruyter. Musolff, A. (2007). What role do metaphors play in racial prejudice? The function of antisemitic imagery in Hitler’s Mein Kampf. Patterns of Prejudice, 41(1), 21–43. Musolff, A. (2010). Metaphor, Nation and the Holocaust: The Concept of the Body Politic. New York, NY: Routledge. Musolff, A. (2012). Immigrants and parasites: The history of a bio-social metaphor. In M. Messer, R. Schroeder, & R. Wodak (Eds.), Migrations. Interdisciplinary perspectives (pp. 249–258). New York, NY: Springer. Nutton, V. (1983). The seeds of disease: An explanation of contagion and infection from the Greeks to the Renaissance. Medical History, 27(1), 1–34. Pagel, W. (1958). Paracelsus: An introduction to philosophical medicine in the era of the Renaissance. Basel, Switzerland: S. Karger. Paprocki, M. (in press). Choroba jako obcy w metaforze ciała politycznego. Rozwój strategii kooptacji i adaptacji „chorego” elementu społecznego – analiza na podstawie tekstów kultury anglosaskiej XVII i XXI wieku. In V. Mantajewska (Ed.), Jezykowe/tekstualne/kulturowe praktyki choroby w literaturze. Katowice, Poland: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego. Park, R. E. (1921). Sociology and the social sciences: The social organism and the collective mind. American Journal of Sociology, 26(4), 401–424. Park, R. E. & Burgess, E. W. (1921). Introduction to the science of sociology. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Pernick, M. S. (2002). Contagion and culture. American Literary History, 14(4), 858–865. Probyn, E. (1999). Beyond food/sex: Eating and an ethics of existence. Theory, Culture & Society, 16(2), 215–228. Radcliffe-Brown, A. R. (1935). On the concept of function in social science. American Anthropologist 37(3), 394–402. World respects Hashemi. (2014). Official Website of Ayatollah Hashemi Rafsanjani. Retrieved July 27, 2014 from http://www.hashemirafsanjani.ir/en/content/ world-respects-hashemi 229

Robbins, P. (1999). Meat matters: Cultural politics along the commodity chain in India. Ecumene, 6(4). Ross, A. (1989). Containing culture in the Cold War. In A. Ross (Ed.), No respect. Intellectuals & popular culture (pp. 42–64). New York, NY: Routledge. Russell, E. P. (1996). ‘Speaking of annihilation’: Mobilizing for war against human and insect enemies 1914–1945. The Journal of American History, 82 (4), 1505–1529. Sarasin, P. (2008). Vapors, viruses, resistance(s): The trace of infection in the work of Michel Foucault. In S. H. Ali & R. Keil (Eds.), Networked disease. Emerging infections in the global city (pp. 267–280). Oxford, England: Wiley-Blackwell. Schoenfeldt, M. C. (1999). Bodies and selves in early modern England: Physiology and inwardness in Spenser, Shakespeare, Herbert, and Milton. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press. Stares, P., & Yacoubian, M. (2005, August 23). Terrorism as virus. The Washington Post. Stockwell, P. (2002). Cognitive Poetics: An introduction. Hoboken, NJ: Routledge. Turner, F. J. (1920/1962). The frontier in American history. New York, NY: Holt, Rinehart, & Winston. Wald, P. (2002). Communicable Americanism: Contagion, geographic fictions, and the sociological legacy of Robert E. Park. American Literary History, 14 (4), 653–685. Wald, P., Tomes, N., & Lynch, L. (2002). Introduction: Contagion and culture. American Literary History, 14(4), 617–624. Weindling, P. (2000). Epidemics and genocide in Eastern Europe, 1890–1945. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press.

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Judit Pethő-Szirmai Eötvös Loránd University, Budapest, Hungary

A cognitive investigation of the category of sin1 Abstract This paper attempts to investigate the complexity of the notion of sin from a cognitive linguistic point of view with a focus on category construction. First, based on the examination of selected biblical verses, I make the claim that the Bible views sin as a prototype-based category drawing on the abstract centralized knowledge of original sin, but specific exemplars of the category are also needed to complete the model. Next, I look into religious texts establishing the official position of the Roman Catholic and the Protestant (Calvinist) Church about sin. It transpires from their comparison that the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church define sin with the help of classical categorization while for the Calvinists, sin is a prototype-based category, - original sin being the central member of the category, but there is no membership gradience. Finally, the paper includes the results of an informal survey aiming to find out what sin means to a group of Hungarian believers and non-believers today. Based on the responses, it can be claimed that in current Hungarian society, the folk notion of sin is a graded category with prototype effects and fuzzy boundaries with a significant degree of between-subject variance. Keywords sin; categorization; prototype effects; cognitive linguistics; Christian theology

1.╇Introduction Whether we consider ourselves religious or not, sin, this three-letter word, has a complex meaning for everyone. It is a deeply entrenched notion in culture and religion; it is present in Judaism and Christianity, Islam and Buddhism alike, although each might have a radically different interpretation for it. This paper sets out to investigate the complexity of this notion from a cognitive linguistic point of view. Due to the inherent nature of the concept of sin, some theological considerations will also be presented, but this paper does not claim authority in this realm, nor does it offer value judgments. 1 Proofread by Colleen Sharkey.

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First, I will provide a summary of the various views on categorization. Then, I will look at the Bible as well as religious texts establishing the official position of the Roman Catholic and the Protestant Church about sin. In the next section, I will present the results of a survey conducted on the notion of sin to show what sin means to a group of Hungarian believers and non-believers today. Finally, I will attempt to give an answer to the question whether sin can be defined as a classical category or as a prototype-based one.

2.╇A brief overview of the different approaches to categorization Categorization is a fundamental consequence of human inquiry. In order to make sense of the world, we have to be able to classify our environments and organize our experiences into coherent structures. Ever since Antiquity, there have been various views about how this is actually achieved. Zoltán Kövecses (2006) offers a comprehensive overview of this topic summarizing the ideas put forward by Eleanor Rosch (1978), George Lakoff (1987), John Taylor (1989/1995), Lawrence Barsalou (1992) and others. The so-called classical model of categorization is based on the idea that categories are defined by essential features, i.e. a limited number of necessary and sufficient conditions. The methodology associated with this model is componential analysis, which strives to distinguish different categories with the help of the smallest possible number of contrastive characteristics. This approach also implies that all members of a category should possess the same distinctive features, that no member is a more salient example of the category, and that categories are delineated by sharp boundaries (Taylor, 1989/1995). A second approach to categorization claims that categories are created on the basis of prototypes. The foundations of this theory were laid down by Ludwig Wittgenstein (1953) who, upon examining the category of game, came to the conclusion that there was not a single feature shared by all the members of the category but, rather, the principle bringing them under the same label was family resemblance. His idea was that, just like with family members, it may be sufficient for category members to share only a few common traits with some, but not all of the other members, and yet belong to the same “set.” Another idea that follows from this theory is that not all members are equally “good” examples of the category, i.e. there are central members while others are located more on the periphery. Thirdly, categories cannot have rigid boundaries since, with the development of mankind and the changes of civilization, they can be extended by adding new members while other members disappear. Wittgenstein’s ideas 232

were later confirmed by empirical evidence produced by Rosch (1978), Croft and Cruse (2004), and others (Kövecses, 2006). It has also been established that categories can have fuzzy boundaries and a graded membership, which will be important in our examination of the category of sin. It should be mentioned that besides the classical view and the prototypebased view of categorization, there exist many other accounts of the phenomenon as discussed by Barsalou (1992). Exemplar models and connectionist models are examples but, in our discussion of the category of sin, the former views will be more relevant.

3.╇ Exploring the definition of sin As we attempt to find out along which model(s) of categorization the notion of sin is constructed, we need to make a distinction between expert models and folk models. By expert model, we mean the “academic” or “official” definition given for a concept by professionals of a given domain and laid down in the documents created by them. In the case of sin, professionals in the field are theologians. Therefore, we will first turn our attention to the Bible and the relevant sections of the official confessional texts of the Roman Catholic and the Protestant (Calvinist) faith. Second, we will analyze the results of an informal survey conducted among a group of Hungarians in order to formulate a picture of the folk theory of sin as it exists in the minds of active and inactive believers as well as atheists in present-day Hungary.

3.1╇ Sin as defined by the Bible The Bible2 contains 192 occurrences of the word “sin” in the nominal form: it is mentioned 114 times in the Old Testament and 78 times in the New Testament. The first occasion when sin is mentioned in the Scripture is the episode of original sin committed by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden (Gen. 3:1–243). If we break down the story into its essential components, we find that the first instantiation of sin carries already all the attributes of any kind of sin against God. The Lord creates a rule (about not eating or touching the fruit of the tree in 2 In the next paragraphs, I will be citing biblical references provided by the following two websites: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/14004b.htm http://christianity.about.com/od/glossary/f/whatissin.htm http://www.nlt.to/ 3 The books of the Bible will be designated by their customary abbreviations.

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the middle of the Garden) that Adam and Eve willfully break, and it is followed by a negative consequence – separation. In this case, separation is physical, but by metaphorical extension, it can also be understood as spiritual. This recurring pattern can be found in the Bible whenever reference is made to sin. From the perspective of category construction, original sin seems to be the prototype with certain essential features (1. God’s law; 2. is broken; 3. by an intentional action; 4. leading to a negative consequence) that all other types of sin share, however different they may be in nature. They also bring about the same consequence: separation from God or punishment by Him, although separation can be regarded as a form of punishment itself. We have seen that in general, sin is the transgression of God’s law or not being up to the mark due to our sinful nature. But how are believers to know what counts as a transgression in their everyday life? Apparently, the Bible gives guidance in the form of “to- do and not-to-do” lists. The “mark” not to be missed is spelled out in the Ten Commandments of the Old Testament (Deut. 5:6–21). Furthermore, King Solomon describes seven things that are sinful and detestable in the eyes of the Lord (Prov. 6:16–19). In the New Testament, Apostle Paul enumerates a long list of the desires of our sinful nature in Col. 3:5–6 and Gal. 5:19–21. In short, the Bible seems to provide specific instances of sin, acts and behaviors to be avoided if one wants to live in obedience to God. However, nowhere is it stated that these lists should be understood as exhaustive, nor is there a law for every situation one might encounter. Thus, it is safer to say that while on the one hand, the Bible views sin as a prototype-based category drawing on the abstract centralized knowledge of original sin, specific exemplars of the category are also needed to complete the model.

3.2╇ Sin as defined in Christian theology Although the numerous branches of Christianity have their own distinct doctrines about sin, for the purposes of this paper I will concentrate on only two denominations: the Roman Catholic Church and the Calvinist Church. The reason for my choice is simple: currently, these are the two biggest Christian denominations in Hungary and the subjects of my survey presented in the last section of the essay also come from these denominations.

3.2.1╇ The Roman Catholic Church (RCC) If the Bible worked like a proper code of law, it would be easy for believers to find out whether their behavior and actions are appropriate in the eyes of God. However, the Bible is not a simple instruction manual. As Christianity gained 234

more and more ground and was institutionalized in the Middle Ages, it developed its own scientific discipline and group of scholars who labored hard to work out a delicate taxonomy of sin. According to Charles Panati (1996), it was a Greek monastic theologian Evagrius of Pontus who first drew up a list of eight offenses and wicked human passions. They were the following: gluttony, lust, avarice, sadness, anger, acedia (spiritual sloth), vainglory, and pride. Then, about two centuries later, in 590 A.D., Pope Gregory the Great reduced the list to seven items4, and came up with the following list, going from the least to the most serious of sins: pride, envy, anger, sadness (changed to sloth in the 17th century), avarice (covetousness), gluttony, and lust. In fact, these are the vices that came to be known as the seven capital or deadly sins. What is important for our purposes now is that the RCC put in place a ranking of sins from the very beginning, and this categorization has not been abolished since. Not only are capital sins ranked according to their seriousness, but there are other distinctions within the taxonomy as well. As we learn from point 393 of the Compendium of the Catholic Catechism5 formulating the tenets of the Church in the form of questions and answers, there is a variety of sins that can be distinguished according to the virtues or commandments which they violate. They can also be divided into sins of thought, word, deed, or omission. If we read on, we are informed of the following: 392. What is sin? Sin is “a word, an act, or a desire contrary to the eternal Law” (Saint Augustine). It is an offense against God in disobedience to his love … 394. How are sins distinguished according to their gravity? A distinction is made between mortal and venial sin. 395. When does one commit a mortal sin? One commits a mortal sin when there are simultaneously present: grave matter, full knowledge, and deliberate consent. This sin destroys charity in us, deprives us

4 The number seven has a special significance in the Judeo-Christian perception of the world. In Hebrew, the root word for “seven” means to be “full” or “complete.” Standing for completion and perfection, it also implies that nothing can be added to or taken away from it. Thus, if someone has committed all of these seven sins, this person is in a complete state of sin. â•… Retrieved on January 26, 2013 from http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/ what-are-the-seven-deadly-sins-and-their-meanings/#ixzz2JHIpkqE5 5 Retrieved on January 27, 2013 from http://www.vatican.va/archive/compendium_ ccc/documents/archive_2005_compendium-ccc_en.html#The%20Dignity%20 of%20the%20Human%20Person

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of sanctifying grace, and, if unrepented, leads us to the eternal death of hell. It can be forgiven in the ordinary way by means of the sacraments of Baptism and of Penance or Reconciliation. 396. When does one commit a venial sin? One commits a venial sin, which is essentially different from a mortal sin, when the matter involved is less serious or, even if it is grave, when full knowledge or complete consent are absent…It merits temporal punishment which purifies.

Although this is only a fraction of the official collection of the RC dogmas, it is manifest that it provides an astonishingly detailed ranking of human vices. A fascinating intellectual project it may be, but let us bear in mind that this theoretical classification of sins has had serious pragmatic consequences regarding the afterlife of RC believers. Those who die in the state of unrepented capital sin are to descend to hell for eternal damnation, while those who die in the state of grace, but are not fully purified of their venial sins through the sacrament of penance, go to purgatory to be cleansed. Those who pass away perfectly purified from their sins and are in the state of grace join God straight away in heaven. As demonstrated by the above citations, the doctrines of the RCC define sin with the help of classical categorization. The category of sin is drawn up in terms of necessary and sufficient conditions, and it operates with numerous subsets elaborated in great detail. We might be inclined to think that this practice is a thing of the past (although the RCC has always emphasized the importance of both the Holy Scripture and the Sacred Tradition), but in fact, in 2008, the Vatican added seven new items to the list of capital sins: polluting, genetic engineering, being obscenely rich, drug dealing, abortion, pedophilia, and causing social injustice. The Vatican argued that whereas sin used to be an individual matter, it acquired a “social resonance” with the age of globalization (Owen, retrieved January 27, 2013 from http://www.foxnews.com). It shows that even the membership of a category considered to be classical can change over time.

3.2.2╇ The Calvinist Church In contrast to the Roman Catholic Church, the Calvinist Church recognizes only the authority of the Bible, but not that of the Sacred Tradition. Its theological principles are laid down in two documents: the Heidelberg Catechism (1562) and the Second Helvetic Confession (1566). The former is composed of 129 questions and answers, intended as a method of teaching, and all of the answers are followed by specific references to the Scripture. The latter is divided into 236

30 chapters, and it methodically discusses the cornerstones of this confession. Thus, chapter VIII of the Second Helvetic Confession provides us with an explicit definition of sin: By sin we understand that innate corruption of man which has been derived or propagated in us all from our first parents, by which we, immersed in perverse desires and averse to all good, are inclined to all evil.

Further, it states clearly that there is a difference of seriousness between the types of sin: We also confess that sins are not equal; although they arise from the same fountain of corruption and unbelief, some are more serious than others. As the Lord said, it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for the city that rejects the word of the Gospel.

We should notice, however, that this formulation is different from the theology advocated by the Roman Catholic Church. Not surprisingly, the distinction made here evokes the exception of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, also highlighted in the Bible (Mark 3:29). Most importantly, sin is considered to be an inherent state of mankind as a result of original sin, and all other sinful actions follow from that inclination to do evil. As opposed to the RCC, the confessional documents of the Calvinist Church do not take great pains to break down the category of sin into well-circumscribed subsets; their point of reference is primarily the parts of the Scripture where some enumerations of specific sins are given (e.g. Col. 3:5–6 and Gal. 5:19–21). The Ten Commandments are observed, since they come directly from the Scripture, and the Heidelberg Catechism sets out to interpret what they require from believers in questions 92–113. All in all, from the perspective of category formation, we can say that sin for the Calvinists is prototype-based, with original sin embodying the central member of the category, but there is no membership gradience: all sins (apart from the prototype) have equal weight and importance within the category. The members of the category are defined with respect to the prototype and they all share some, but not necessarily all, of the prototypical components of the central member.

4.╇ The survey While historically it is very interesting to see how our notion of sin rooted in the Christian context developed over the centuries, it is probably even more exciting to study how people construct their personal category of sin today. It is reasonable to assume that in today’s individualistic society, the folk notions of sin would 237

be more personal and quite different from those propagated by the Church. It is also possible that the category of sin would be constructed according to a different logic than what we have seen so far.

4.1╇ Some methodological considerations In order to test these hypotheses, I designed a questionnaire survey including both short-answer questions and ones that called for a more elaborate answer. The first question required the formulation of a personal definition of sin. The point of this question was to find out whether, according to the folk theory of sin, it is defined by certain essential features as in the classical view of categorization or whether there are other organizing principles at work. Second, respondents were asked to list five examples of sin, and the underlying aim was to test for any prototypicality. Finally, respondents had to rate a list of specific actions and behaviors potentially considered sinful on religious or moral grounds on a scale of 1–5, based on how well they exemplify sin. The purpose of the exercise was to see whether membership gradience could be observed in the folk category of sin. The compilation of the list was a complex task. There were several thematic clusters of sin selected on the basis of certain criteria, but the items were arranged in alphabetical order so as not to give respondents any clues. First, all the “official” sins that are defined as sinful by sacred texts and religious institutions were included in the list – namely, the sins implied by the Ten Commandments, the sins explicitly listed in Gal. 5, 19–21, the seven capital sins established by the Roman Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, and also the seven new mortal sins that were added in 2008. When a sin appeared in more than one official list under an identical or synonymous designation, superfluous occurrences were omitted. Lastly, the enumeration was completed by some common “pet sins” and “petty crimes” that most people have to make choices about at some point in their lives. Naturally, while the first components of the list are finite in number, the latter can only be an arbitrary selection depending on the personal ethical views of the researcher. By putting together such a complex list, my research intentions were manifold. In the first place, I wanted to see whether acts defined as sinful by religious institutions and sacred texts were seen in the same light by the “folk” as well. Moreover, I assumed that there would be a difference between the convictions of active Christians and those in the life of whom religion does not play a significant role. I was also curious to find out whether the sins officially established by the RCC would have an actual effect on the lives of the representatives of 238

this confession. However, I did not take into consideration the respondents’ denomination if they previously stated that religion played only a small role in their lives or if they were non-believers. I made no examinations along the lines of gender, age, residence or profession. As for their level of education, respondents formed a fairly homogeneous group: almost all of them held a college or university degree. Altogether thirty-six respondents filled in the questionnaire. All of them were Hungarians socialized in the Christian tradition. Sixteen people identified themselves as active Christians going to church regularly (thirteen Roman Catholics and three Calvinists), fifteen people said that they were not active Christians, but religion did have some effect on their lives, and five people claimed to be non-believers.

4.2╇ The results of the survey 4.2.1╇ Task 1: The definition of sin In this task, respondents had to define sin in their own words in a full sentence. For the sake of comparability, the sentences were then examined word by word in search of the essential semantic features of sin: 1. God’s law; 2. the act of transgression; 3. intentionality; 4. subsequent negative consequences. Respondents mentioned “laws,” “rules” or “norms” in seventeen instances, but surprisingly, the name of God occurred on only five occasions. Religious norms were referred to in four additional cases. “Transgression,” in turn, was implied by seventeen respondents, basically by all of those who spoke about norms. The rest of the respondents defined sin more vaguely, in relation to other points of reference such as “fellow people,” “animals,” “human community,” and “ourselves.” The last one merits special attention: mentioned by the same number of people as the name of God (5), it points out an aspect of sin that is often neglected: that we can sin against ourselves (the underlying conceptual metaphor being human beings are valuable assets). Those who included God in their definition were all active Christians (four RCs and one Calvinist), and religious norms were also used mostly by this group of respondents (with the single exception of a non-believer). This low ratio seems to confirm that in comparison with the Bible’s interpretation of sin, the present-day (Hungarian) folk category of sin does not possess an obligatory biblical or religious attribute. The meaning of sin as a conceptual category is defined rather with respect to a moral or ethical framework, a man-made construct by definition. As for the third component, “intentionality” was mentioned 8 times, which is quite a low figure. One respondent believed that sin was often committed 239

regardless of our intentions, and that sin is a matter of gradience. Altogether one-fifth of the respondents (7) introduced the attribute of gravity into their definition, which is not a significant proportion, but it is an early indication of the idea that the folk interpretation of the category of sin might have a graded structure. Finally, “negative consequences” were mentioned by two-fifths of the respondents, and they described them in terms of pain, damage, and hurt. On the basis of the above, we can say that sin is a category with some typical, but not essential features. It is not necessary for an act or behavior to possess all four elements identified above for it to be qualified as sin in the eyes of society. The above experiment points in the direction that sin is a prototype-based category where the members are related to each other through family resemblance, sharing some, but not all of the characteristics of the central prototypical member. We have already seen some indications of prototype effects such as membership gradience, but this hypothesis will be supported by further evidence in the remaining sections of this paper.

4.2.2╇ Task 2: Prototypical instances of sin In this task, respondents were asked to name five types of sin. Altogether there were fifty vices listed (repetitions and synonyms were folded into a single item). The top five items from all the items listed by the total group examined and by active Christians (both Roman Catholics and Calvinists) were the following, respectively (the number of occurrences is in parentheses): Table 1: Prototypical instances of sin by order of frequency Frequency Total group 1. causing physical or emotional pain, humiliation to others, especially the helpless (28)

Active Christians homicide (12)

2.

theft and robbery (28)

theft and robbery (14)

3.

homicide (24)

causing physical or emotional pain, humiliation to others, especially the helpless (9)

4.

lies especially if they cause damage to others (16)

lies especially if they cause damage to others (7)

5.

adultery (7)

adultery (6)

If we take into consideration the position in which sins were mentioned by respondents, we get the following results: 240

Table 2: Prototypical instances of sin by position Position Total group 1. homicide (19)

Active Christians homicide (11)

2.

theft and robbery (5) causing physical or emotional pain, lies especially if they cause damage to especially the helpless (4) others (5) causing physical or emotional pain, especially the helpless (5)

3.

theft and robbery (5) lies (5)

lies especially if they cause damage to others (4)

4.

theft and robbery (7)

theft and robbery (5)

5.

causing physical and emotional pain, especially the helpless (8)

causing physical and emotional pain, especially the helpless (3)

The above tables demonstrate that no matter how we look at our data, the same best examples for sin seem to emerge. It is also interesting to point out that although Hungarian society is secular and active Christians were not overrepresented in the sample, all of the “high-ranking” sins can be interpreted as violations either of the Ten Commandments or the two Great Commandments of the New Testament. However, the seven old and the seven new capital sins laid down by the Roman Catholic Church do not seem to be recognized either in general or by Christians as the most prototypical instances of sin (which is not to say that they do not appear further down the list). Thus, we may draw two conclusions from these pieces of data. First, the category of sin is definitely represented by prototypes in the individuals’ minds. Even though sin is a rather personal and subjective matter, there seems to be consensus among the members of the survey group about the most salient examples of this conceptual category. Secondly, this part of the experiment showed indirectly that the principal moral values laid down by the Bible in a religious context are implicitly embraced and shared even by those individuals whose lives are not explicitly guided by religious (Christian) teachings.

4.2.3╇ Task 5: How “good” are our sins? In this task, respondents had to work with a list of thirty-nine items in alphabetical order. They had to indicate on a scale of 1–5 how well each act or behavior exemplified sin in their opinion, where “1” meant that it was not a sin at all and “5” stood for a straightforward case of sin. The list contained the seven capital sins established by the Roman Catholic Church in medieval times (7), the seven more recently identified mortal sins (7), the transgressions of the Ten 241

Commandments (9), the sins enumerated by Apostle Paul in Galatians 5:19–21 (7), and a selection of “popular vices” (9). In Table 3 below, we can see the general trends for the seven medieval capital sins. Basically, none of the capital sins were regarded as extremely serious by either group. The total group average shows that there is some awareness of the sinful nature of the medieval deadly sins, but apart from pride, these are considered to be mild cases of sin. The Roman Catholics gave higher ratings to all of the items than any of the other sets examined, but wrath and gluttony fared quite poorly even among the members of this group. Lust, which used to be regarded as the worst of sins in the Middle Ages6, has definitely lost its special status, although there is a significant difference between the views of the Roman Catholic respondents and the group of inactive believers and non-believers. Table 3: The average ratings of medieval capital sins (ARC = active Roman Catholic believers, AC = active Calvinist believers, IB+NB = inactive believers and non-believers) 7 MEDIEVAL CAPITAL SINS pride, self-importance

Total (36) 3.72

ARC (13) 3.92

AC (3) 3.67

IB+NB (20) 3.58

envy

2.61

3.69

1.67

2.47

outburst of wrath

2.06

2.46

1.67

2.05

sloth (indifference to opportunities to do good)

3.06

3.23

3.00

2.95

greed (covetousness)

2.94

3.38

2.33

3.11

gluttony

2.25

2.69

2.33

1.74

lust, lasciviousness

2.53

3.62

1.67

2.30

The next table presents the distribution of the rankings of the seven modern capital sins, which have more social relevance than the previous set. Out of these “official” sins, fortune (being obscenely rich) seems to be the only odd one out; generally, it is not considered as a sin by either group examined (although the ways of acquiring fortune were not specified by the question). Not surprisingly, abortion is the most debated issue where we can see the greatest divergence in the opinions. It is interesting, however, that genetic engineering is seen almost unanimously in a positive (non-sinful) light, quite contrary to the views of the Vatican. 6 According to the categorization carried out by Pope Gregory the Great in 590 A. D. (Panati, 1996).

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Table 4: The average ratings of new capital sins 7 NEW CAPITAL SINS abortion

Total (36) 3.46

ARC (13) 4.23

AC (3) 3.34

IB+NB (20) 2.80

drug dealing

4.77

4.77

5.00

4.55

genetic engineering

2.89

3.00

2.67

3.00

environmental pollution

4.26

4.23

4.34

4.21

pedophilia

5.00

5.00

5.00

5.00

causing social injustice

4.47

4.25

5.00

4.16

being obscenely rich

2.27

2.00

3.00

1.68

Table 5 gives an overview of the moral consideration of the Ten Commandments. Here the highest rankings were attributed to those sins that are punished by the penal code as serious crimes. On the whole, active Christians (ARC+AC) considered these acts and behaviors significantly more sinful than the total group and especially the group of non-active believers and non-believers (IB+NB). Blasphemy is one of the leading sins among active believers, and it is seen much more severely by them than by group IB+NB. Sunday, on the other hand, does not seem to be such a holy day and so set apart, even among active Christians, which may reflect the overall mentality of Western societies in the 21st century. Table 5: The average ratings of the sins warned against by the Ten Commandments TEN COMMANDMENTS Total (36) ARC (13) AC (3) IB+NB (20) (number of commandment in parentheses) idolatry (II) 2.91 3.69 3.50 1.55 blasphemy (III)

3.89

4.30

4.34

3.05

swearing, using bad words (III)

2.94

3.31

2.67

2.84

not going to church on Sunday (IV)

1.90

2.54

2.00

1.15

working on Sunday (IV)

1.63

2.69

1.00

1.21

disrespectful behavior toward one’s parents (V)

3.54

4.00

2.67

3.95

homicide (VI)

4.97

4.92

5.00

5.00

adultery (VII)

3.70

4.62

4.00

2.50

theft (VIII)

4.91

5.00

5.00

4.74

perjury (IX)

4.66

4.46

5.00

4.52

greed (covetousness) (X)

2.94

3.38

2.33

3.11

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Table 6 summarizes the sins listed specifically by Apostle Paul in Galatians 5:19–21. (Some members of the enumeration are also included in other tables, but they figured in the questionnaire only once.) From this list, homicide, adultery, and hatred are unanimously recognized as the most typical sins by the entire group. Once again, active Christians seemed to be more “sin-conscious” than the other respondents, and they gave higher values to nearly every act and behavior in question than the rest of the group. With the exception of homicide, adultery, and hatred, the other sins are pretty much tolerated by society (based on these results), and most of them are regarded as less typical instantiations of the category of sin. Table 6: The average ratings of the sins mentioned in Galatians 5: 19–21 GALATIANS 5:19–21 hatred, causing division

Total (36) 4.31

ARC (13) 4.54

AC (3) 4.00

IB+NB (20) 4.40

revels, wild parties

2.68

3.23

2.67

2.15

jealousy

2.68

3.46

2.34

2.25

adultery

3.70

4.62

4.00

2.50

sorcery

3.15

3.77

3.00

2.68

selfish ambition

3.37

3.62

3.34

3.05

drunkenness

2.91

3.15

3.00

2.58

lust

2.53

3.62

1.67

2.30

envy

2.61

3.69

1.67

2.47

homicide

4.97

4.92

5.00

5.00

wrath

2.91

3.69

3.50

1.55

self-importance

3.72

3.92

3.67

3.58

idolatry

2.91

3.69

3.50

1.55

Finally, Table 5 brings us to our pet sins and petty crimes. Here the categories of sin and crime seem to overlap. In our everyday lives, not every crime is regarded as a sin, even if it is punishable by the law, and of course, not every sin constitutes a criminal activity. Personal conceptual frames might play a role in deciding whether we consider the same act as a crime or as a sin. As the values attributed to these acts and behaviors reveal, the members of the survey group and most likely, Hungarian society in general, are quite generous in overlooking these popular vices. Nonetheless, we can see some variation in the degree of sinfulness of these items as well. Tax authorities and school exams are less to be meddled with than horoscopes, for instance. 244

Table 7: The average ratings of popular vices

7

POPULAR VICES innocent lies7 (e.g. to children about Santa)

Total (36) ARC (13) AC (3) IB+NB (20) 1.51 2.08 1.34 1.15

sex before marriage

1.64

2.77

1.00

1.16

traveling without a valid ticket on public transport

2.64

3.00

2.67

2.26

concealing smaller sums of income from tax authorities

3.40

3.31

3.67

3.21

moderate alcohol consumption

1.96

1.46

1.67

1.74

cheating in class

3.01

3.08

3.34

2.63

engaging in palmistry, card divination or other fortune telling practices

2.00

2.92

1.67

1.42

making illegal copies of books, CDs, DVDs protected by copyright

2.85

2.92

3.00

2.63

using workplace resources for private ends (e.g. photocopying, taking stationery home, etc.)

2.58

1.22

4.00

2.53

5.╇Conclusions As it has been foreseen, the complexity of this topic does not permit a thorough and fully satisfying analysis in the framework of a single paper. An ambitious attempt has been made to bring together the various facets of the concept of sin, expert and folk interpretations alike, and provide an overview of the evolution of the category. We have seen that theologians have been modeling and remodeling the exact scope and meaning of sin over the ages. The catechisms and other confessional documents are a proof of the effort to meticulously draw the boundaries of the category of sin to be able to set vice and virtue apart. The Bible itself offers a prototype for sin, but besides our abstract centralized knowledge of original sin, specific exemplars of the category are also needed to make the model fully operational, comprehensible and applicable. The rankings of the questionnaire showed clearly that in people’s minds, sin is a graded category with prototype effects and fuzzy boundaries. There is no 7 Linda Coleman and Paul Key (1981) published a very interesting article on the prototypicality of lies. They identified three elements composing the prototype of lie: falsity, intent to speak falsely, and intent to deceive. Accordingly, innocent lies or “white lies” are not prototypical cases of lying.

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agreement even among believers, (that is, among people who live their lives with respect to the same ethical frame), about the degree of the gravity of the category representations of sin, let alone agreement with the official views of their respective denomination. In harmony with expectations, the views of active Christians on the category of sin expressed by their rankings clashed even more with the convictions of non-active believers and non-believers. These findings, however, reinforce the claim that sin is a prototype-based category. As Barsalou (1987) points it out, “A category’s graded structure can shift substantially with changes in context” (p. 107). Moreover, there is a significant degree of betweensubject and within-subject variance as well, which means that the membership gradience of the category representations can change not only from person to person, but also within a person over time. Social context and other personal frames also play a role in determining category membership. But the fact that the graded structure of the category of sin is highly flexible and liable to change makes its exploration all the more intriguing.

References Barsalou, L. (1987). The Instability of Graded Structure: Implications for the Nature of Concepts. In U. Neisser (Ed.), Concepts and Conceptual Development: Ecological and Intellectual Factors in Categorization (pp. 101–140). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Retrieved January 27, 2013 from http://psychology.emory.edu/cognition/barsalou/papers/Barsalou_chap_ 1987_instability_graded_structure.pdf Barsalou, L. (1992). Cognitive Psychology: An Overview for Cognitive Scientists. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Catechism of the Catholic Church – Compendium. Retrieved January 26, 2013 from http://www.vatican.va/archive/index.htm Coleman, L., & Kay. P. (1981). Prototype Semantics: The English Word Lie. Language, 57 (2), 6–44. Linguistic Society of America. Retrieved January 27, 2013 from http://www.jstor.org/stable/414285 Croft, W., & Cruse, A. (2004). Cognitive Linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kövecses, Z. (2006). Language, Mind, and Culture. A Practical Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal About the Mind. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. New Living Translation Bible. Retrieved January 28, 2013 from http://www.nlt.to/ 246

O’Neil, A.C. (1912). Sin. In The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company. Retrieved January 28, 2013 from New Advent: http://www. newadvent.org/cathen/14004b.htm Owen, R. (2008, March 11). Vatican Adds Seven New Deadly Sins Including Damaging Environment and Drug Dealing. London Times. Retrieved January 26, 2013 from http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,336330,00. html#ixzz2JP3QTj5B Panati, Ch. (1996). Sacred Origins of Profound Things. Arkana: Penguin Books. Rosch, E. (1978). Principles of categorization. In E. Rosch & B. B. Lloyds (Eds.). Cognition and Categorization (pp. 27–48). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Taylor, J. R. (1989/1995). Linguistic Categorization. Oxford: Clarendon Press. The Heidelberg Catechism. Retrieved January 27, 2013 from Center for Reformed Theology and Apologetics: http://www.reformed.org/documents/index. html?mainframe=http://www.reformed.org/documents/heidelberg.html The Second Helvetic Confession. Retrieved January 28, 2013 from http://www. ccel.org/creeds/helvetic.htm Wellmann, J. (2012, March 24). What Are the Seven Deadly Sins and Their Meanings? Retrieved January 26, 2013 from http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/ what-are-the-seven-deadly-sins-and-their-meanings/#ixzz2JaMyprvN

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Małgorzata Płomińska Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice, Poland

Linguistic and cultural image of the notion of ‘death’ in Polish and German1 Abstract The aim of the article is to reconstruct and compare linguistic and cultural images of the notion of ‘death’ in Polish and in German. Based on the linguistic material gathered, it may be concluded that the imagery in both languages is strongly motivated by the conceptual and linear interpretative frame of the concept ‘death’, as in the notion ‘birth - life - death’, which stand for the initial, midway and final stages of the human progression. Linguistic imagery demonstrates close connections between life and death. Both concepts complement one another or are juxtaposed with each other. In both languages, death is rendered in relation to life as the final journey. It is evil when opposed to life. In neither language is there, a particularly distinct impact of either Greek and Roman mythology, or of Christianity, on the linguistic representation of death. Keywords linguistic image of the world; death; comparative analysis; Polish; German The lexemes śmierć//Tod (death) belong to basic vocabulary of Polish and Geman (see Bartmiński, 2009, p. 26). The notion ‘death’ along with such concepts as ‘home’, ‘homeland’, ‘life’ is without doubt a keyword in Western culture (see Bartmiński, 2009, p. 167). Death has been a central motif of many works of art and literature. It has absorbed the attention of scholars in many fields of science - phiolosophers (Boros, 1985; Heidegger, 1994), theologists (Ratzinger, 1986; Schaub, 1998), anthropologists (Kowalski, 2007; Kolankiewicz, 1999), experts in cultural studies (Macho, 1987, 2007; Wilowski, 2000) and, religious studies (Zuccaro 2004; Kupisiński 2007), historians (e.g Ariés, 1977, 2007; Vovelle, 2004; Rożek, 2012), thinkers and writers (e.g. Kirkegaard, 1969) (see Cichowicz, 1993, pp. 6–8; Przymuszała, 2007, 105; see also bibliography

1 Proofread by Melanie Ellis.

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in Marczewska, 2013).2 Recently, the notion of ‘death’ has additionally become an object of linguistic research, primarily with regard to its linguistic and cultural representation in different languages (Polish, Slovak, Russian, French). It is analyzed from both mono- and bilingual perspectives (see Burzyńska & Kamieniecki, 1998; Krzyżanowska, 1998; Sandomirska, 2000; Profantova, 1998, 2006; Przymuszała, 2007; Sicińska, 2008; Marciniak, 2008). In their research, scholars emphasize, among other things, the impact exerted on the linguistic image of death by the legacy of the past, especially with respect to philosophical and religious systems such as Greek and Roman mythology or Christianity. Burzyńska and Kamieniecki (1998, p. 82) claim that the modern representation of death in Polish has been affected by “philosophical and religious systems present in our own and foreign, but resonant, cultural space, among which the dominant role should be attributed to the influences of Mediterranean culture and Christianity (which can only be confirmed by numerous linguistic facts).” Others also highlight the impact of Slavic beliefs or the Baroque (e.g. Profantova, 1997/1998, pp. 112–113). In the light of the linguistic material collected, which comprise systemically stable language units such as formative derivatives, idiomatic expressions, proverbs, fixed collocations (phrasemes) and metaphorical usages, as well as use of the examined lexemes in linguistic poetic contexts or other multi-genre modern texts (see Bartmiński, 2006, pp. 154–156; p. 163) it seems, however that linguistic imagery of the concept ‘death’ in Polish and German is, for the most, part framed by how death is conceptualized. The historical and cultural background are of lesser importance. In Greek mythology the god of death, Tanatos, was a son of Night and twin-brother to Sleep, which points to the relationship between death, night and sleep, yet the word tanatos (γαναϮος) signified ‘disappearance’ in Old Greek, while the primary word for eath had vanished in this language. This is a symptom of an unwillingness to call death by its proper name, its tabooisation and the preference for euphemisms (see Szwecow-Szewczyk, 1974, p. 286; Marciniak, 2008, p. 182).3 This is reinforced by the fact that although Tanatos was grouped among the so called primary powers (Kubiak, 2013, p. 62), he did not play any major role, and was rarely invoked in most significant literary works 2 Particular interest in death in such disciplines as philosophy, sociology and history has been shown in France, where at the end of the XX Century a new branch of humanist studies, anthropologie de la mort, emerged (tanatology) (see Cichowski, 1993, 7). 3 Major contribution to proliferation of the trope of death as sleep in contemporary Polish was made, in the opinion of M. Skwara (1989, pp. 28–30), by Jan Kochanowski and his “Threnodies.”

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(see Burzyńska & Kamieniecki, 1998, p. 83). The perception of death as sleep and its associated concepts of night, gloom, darkness, may have a different origin observation of the world. A person who is dead looks as though they are sleeping, and the natural time for humans to sleep is night, which is devoid of natural daylight, and thus, dark. In the Old Testament, death may be the final end, but the New Testament treats death as an intermediary stage between earthly and eternal life. For a Christian, death is not the final perspective. Quite conversely, it brings a new beginning, as “after demise, man, according to Christian beliefs, transcends to another, new way of existence eternity” (Słownik teologiczny 1989, pp. 135–137). As a result, death should have positive connotations for members of the Polish and German speaking communities which evolved in the Christian cultural area. However no affirmation of this was found in the linguistic material gathered. The linguistic image of death in Polish and German seems closely connected with the how the notion is conceptualized in both languages, that is in accordance with the linear imaginative schema (see Lakoff ’s linear schema 1987, pp. 271–273, cited after Taylor, 2001, p. 190), a vector, reflecting the natural order of human existence (see Sandomirska, 2000, p. 357). This order forms a sequence (see Kövecses, 2011, p. 155) which consist of the three basic phases of human life: birth, life and death.4 Each of the concepts in this sequence may be fully understood only by reference to the other elements: generally speaking, birth signifies the opening, life is the middle stage, stretched over time, understood as a process split into consecutive shorter intervals,5 and death indicates the end of the sequence. Both Polish and German reveal direct connections between the above stages, which are especially integrated in an abundance of fixed expressions6 in both languages with regard to life and death. These are frequently used as a pair, both in instances of juxtaposition przyjaciel na życie i śmierć [a friend in good and bad times/for better or for worse], and mutual complementation, e.g.: sprawa życia i śmierci [a matter of life and death], walka/bój na życie i śmierć [a life and death 4 The three stages of human progression are also known in European painting, e.g. Hans Baldung’s “Three Ages of Man and Death.” 5 Location of life between the other stages in the birth-death sequence is affirmed by the sentence of an Austrian poet Heinrich F.G. Schneeweiß from the short story entitled „Was nun, Prometheus?“: „Gegenwärtig verdrängen die meisten Menschen den Tod, wollen ihn nicht wahrhaben, obwohl er auch zum Leben, jener Zwischenstufe zwischen Geburt und Tod, gehört.“ (Schneeweiß, 2004, p. 25). 6 This article follows the classification of phraseological units by A. M. Lewicki and A. Pajdzińska (2001, pp. 316–318).

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struggle], // zwischen Tod und Leben schweben [to be in extreme danger]; es geht um Tod und Leben [a very important matter].7 This is also apparent in less conventionalized contexts, e.g.: Auf der einen Seite lebte das Leben, auf der anderen der Tod.; der Gegensatz zwischen Leben und Tod; dramat pomiędzy życiem a śmiercią; być zawieszonym między życiem i śmiercią // Herr über Tod und Leben sein [to have enormous power], or in modern texts: O ich życiu lub śmierci decydował przypadek, a także zdolności adaptacyjne ludzi.8 Leben und Tod: sie liegen nahe beieinander, untrennbar nahe. Sokrates galt mir für einen trefflichen weisen Mann, der wohl, im Leben und Tod, sich mit Christo vergleichen lasse. Der Tod gehört zum Leben. Einheit und Polarität, das Leben und der Tod.

The affinity and mutual complementation of life and death are also reflected in the many fixed phrases in both languages which refer to dying, and include the lexeme życie//Leben, e.g. postradać życie, pożegnać się z życiem, odebrać sobie życie // sein Leben aushauchen, sein Leveb lassen, sich das Leben nehmen. There are also those with lexemes żyć//leben and umierać//sterben next to each other, e.g. za mało, żeby żyć, za dużo, żeby umrzeć; żyć, nie umierać // nicht leben und nicht sterben können; zum Leben zu wenig, zum Sterben zu viel or those which denote life, and at the same time contain the lexeme śmierć//Tod, e.g. wyrwać się/kogoś ze szponów śmierci; oszukać/pokonać śmierć // dem Tod entkommen/ entraunen; den Tod überlisten (see Sandomirska, 2000, p. 358). The conceptual base for death is provided by its conjunction with life. Both concepts complement or stand in opposition to one another, and it is these relations which frame the imagery of death in both the languages analyzed. Life, as a stage in human progression, is placed in time between birth and death, and is perceived as a process (tryb /rytm/tempo życia; życie biegnie, upływa, przeleciało, przeszło, długie/krótkie życie; iść przez życie // Lebenslauf/-bahn, das 7 Life and death are closely interrelated, inseparable, they stay close to one another. This expression found in Jan Kasprowicz’s poem “Krzak dzikiej róży,” in which a wild rose blooming red, looking almost as if burning in the sun, symbolising life, is depicted next to a dying Swiss pine: “W skrytych załomach, w cichym schronie/ Między graniami w słońcu płonie/Zatopion w szum, krzak dzikiej róży…/Do ścian się tuli, jakby we śnie/A obok limbę toczą pleśnie/Limbę, zwaloną tchnieniem burzy.” 8 Examples without citation of source come from the Polish PWN, IPI PAN text corpora and the German text corpus Cosmas (see: Sources).

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Leben vergeht), split into shorter phases (pierwsze dni życia, pod koniec życia, w kwiecie życia // Lebensende; Przeprowadzka rozpoczynała nowy etap w życiu młodych (…) (Simonides, 1988, p. 109). Its conceptual metaphor is a way (Lakoff, 1987, pp. 271–273, cited after Taylor, 2001, p. 190). Life is a path to follow which makes it also a journey, or walk (see Krzeszowski, 1997, pp. 150–151; Sicińska, 2008, p. 215; Kövecses, 2011, p. 186), which is demonstrated by the fixed phrases życiowa wędrówka/droga, traditional wishes to newlyweds na nowej drodze życia, koleje/ścieżki życia; towarzysz(ka) życia; iść przez życie, lexicalized German compounds Lebensweg/-pfad; Lebensgefährte and text usages in both languages: To żyje w nas, łączy się z drogą życiową, z doborem przyjaciół, upodobaniami, językiem. Nawet na imieninach rozmawiamy tylko o górach. Emocjom oddaje Gombrowicz ściśle odmierzone i nader szczupłe miejsce w corocznych podsumowaniach, gdzie stara się samemu sobie odpowiedzieć na pytanie, czy dobry był ten rok, czy zły, i dokąd go w jego życiowej wędrówce zaprowadził. (J. Jarzębski, posłowie do „Kronosa“ Witolda Gombrowicza 2013, 425) Sie wollen ihren Lebensweg gemeinsam gehen. Viel Glück auf deinem weiteren Lebensweg!

Death complements life and designates its final stage. In the imagery of both languages there is an entrenched representation of death as the end of the way /journey: ostatnia droga/podróż // der letzte Weg/letzte Fahrt/Reise9 and end of life. Death is referred to by means of such lexemes as koniec/kres // Ende, pożegnanie//Abschied, Feierabend (literally: knock off). This imagery is also found in phraseological units and proverbs, e.g. Śmierć koniec wszystkiemu // seinem Leben ein Ende machen/setzen; die letzte Fahrt antreten. In German, many expressions relating to dying contain the prefixes ab-, aus- which denote the end: jd. hat mit dem Leben abgeschlossen; jds. Uhr ist abgelaufen; den Löffel abgeben; jdm. den Lebensfaden abschneiden; jdm. das Leben ausblasen/-pusten) (see Krzyżanowska, 1998, p. 94), Mówimy zapewne, że śmierć wieńczy życie. „Kres życia ludzkiego” Artykuł każe nam zastanowić się na istotą śmierci. Wskazuje na pewien paradoks naszych czasów, w których z jednej strony wstydliwie odsuwamy od siebie myśli o końcu życia, a z drugiej strony masowa kultura jest pełna śmierci i przemocy. (www.adonai.pl, 1.08.2012)

9 The image of death as the final journey may be reinforced by the customs and conduct at funerals: the living accompany the deceased on their last journey to the place of burrial (see Ariés, 1977, p. 167).

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„Entscheidungen am Lebensende“ Die SAMW setzt sich seit Jahrzehnten intensiv mit den Fragen rund ums Lebensende und mit Fragen der Sterbehilfe und Sterbebegleitung auseinander. (www.samw.ch, 1.08.2012) Mit dem Tode ist‘s für immer Feierabend.

Perception of death as an end is also used metaphorically, where śmierć//Tod may also refer to the end of something, e.g. coś umarło/umrze śmiercią naturalną // der Tod von etw. sein; etw. wird sanften Tod haben [will come to an end]; śmierć cywilna/bürgerlicher Tod, e.g.: Bankructwo to dla niego śmierć. Die Entscheidung des IOC könnte der Tod des Ringens sein. Mit seinem Olympiasieg 1984 schrieb er Sportgeschichte, ab 2020 streicht das IOC Ringen aus dem Programm. Nun fürchtet Pasquale Passarelli um die Existenz seines Sports. (zeit.online, 22.03.2013)

The meaning of death as the end of something has led to another metaphorical shift relating to the lexemes which began to signify ‘destruction’/‘countermining something’/‘defeat’ in both languages, as in the expressions być śmiercią czegoś; oznaczać śmierć czegoś // der Tod der Sache sein; jdm./einer Sache den Todesstoß versetzen; der Tod, der bleiche Allvernichter, Czy 5. liga oznacza sportową śmierć ŁKSu? Das wäre der Tod der künstlerischen und publizistischen Arbeit sein. Der Dativ ist dem Genitiv sein Tod.

Linguistic imagery in both Polish and German show particularly intensely the conceptual antinomy of ‘life’ and ‘death’ - in this approach death stands in opposition to life (see Bańczerowski & Dziewońska-Kiss, 2011, p. 73; Sandomirska, 2000, p. 363). The main connotation of life in both languages is positive. Life is a good thing (see Bańczerowski & Dziewońska-Kiss, 2011, p. 62; Krzeszowski, 1999, pp. 68–70). In phraseological units and derivatives in both languages, and also in German compounds, the lexemes życie//Leben mean ‚important/the most important, biggest, best’ e.g. miłość/przygoda/interes życia; życiowa porażka; idzie o życie; Każdemu życie miłe/drogie; Każdy chce żyć.; ktoś oddałby pół życia za coś; kochać coś nad życie; obrzydzać komuś życie; z narażeniem życia; // lebenswert; lebenswichtig; Lebensader [the most important road in town which ensures smooth flow of traffic]; Lebensfrage; Lebensinteresse; etw. ist jds. Leben (e.g. Sport ist mein Leben), wie das blühende Leben aussehen: In both languages this lexeme is present in conventional exclamations used to congratulate somebody Niech żyje // Lebe hoch; es soll hoch leben; in both languages they are helpful in addressing someone who is dear Życie moje! // Du mein Leben!; while in German the 254

lexeme Leben also serves as an intensifier, e.g. etw. für sein Leben gerne tun [to do something with utmost pleasure]. By contrast, the main connotation of the concept of ‘death’ is evil. In phraseology the notions of ‘life’ and ‘death’ in this sense are often directly juxtaposed, as in the proverb Lepszy słomiany żywot, niż jedwabna śmierć. Negative connotations become apparent in such phraseological units as gorszy niż krakowska śmierć; życzyć komuś śmierci; Śmierć, choćby w miodzie, zawsze jest gorzka. // jdn. den Tod an den Hals wünschen [to wish somebody all the worst]; der grimme Tod. In German, both in poetic, literary texts and non-conventionalized ones, the lexeme Tod is very often accompanied by other lexemes of negative connotation, such as strach, bieda/nędza, przerażenie, cierpienie, choroba [fear, need, affright, suffering, illness], e.g. Tod, du Schrecken der Natur (…) (Schubart: „An den Tod“), Grausam bist du, o Tod! (Saar: „An den Tod“), O Tod, du böser Schein! (A. von Arnim: „Drei Reiter am Tor“), Not und Tod; Tod und Elend; Tod und Furcht; Schrecken, Tod, und Grauen; Leiden und Tod; Leid, Krankheit und Tod. In both languages the lexeme is present in maledictions, e.g. Śmierci na ciebie/was nie ma!; Żeby cię/was nagła śmierć! // Tod und Teufel! Entrenchment of the imagery of death as evil in Polish is associated with the etymological perspective: the lexeme śmierć, originates from the Indo-European stem *mrt-, *mr-, *mer-, *mor-, which most likely meant ‘to be destroyed, burnt, to crush” (Boryś, 2005, p. 618), and indicates the link between death and the processes of destruction (see Burzyńska & Kamieniecki, 1998, p. 88; Marczewska, 2013, p. 5). The basic negative connotation of the notion ‘death’ is brought to light by the expression dobra śmierć // der gute Tod as a term used for euthanasia (see Krzeszowski, 1999, pp. 41–54). Many rites and customs are used to warn against death (tolling church bells), to repel death (covering mirrors in a dead person’s house, closing the eyelids and mouth of the deceased, spring clean-ups intended to brush off the death of winter, see below) (see Simonides, 1988, pp. 134–136; Metken, 1984, pp. 75–77; Hoffman-Krayer & Bächtold-Stäubli, 1987, p. 981; Hasenfratz, 2009, p. 18). The domain ‘death is evil’ is related to the perception of death in both languages as an enemy, foe, or opponent. In literary texts, death is often directly referred to as ‚wróg‘ // ‚Feind‘ [enemy], e.g. O Tod, o Tod, du greulichst Bild/Und Feind voll Zorns und Blitzen) (also C. Brentano’s poem named „Der Feind“: Einen kenn ich/Wir lieben ihn nicht (…)/Tod, so heißt er (…)). We must fight against that enemy: walczyć/pasować/zmagać się ze śmiercią // mit dem Tod ringen, run away from the foe or outsmart it, because it is merciless and devious, as well as vicious. It comes unnocited to claim us: wykręcić się od śmierci; wywinąć się śmierci; wyrwać kogoś z objęć śmierci; przypłacić śmiercią; śmierć zbiera swoje żniwo; Kto śmierci szuka, tego ona nie bierze. // dem Tod entrennen/entkommen/ 255

entfliehen/trotzen; dem Tod von der Schippe gesprungen/gehüpft sein; den Tod überlisten; der Tod kommt geschlichen; der Tod fängt jdn. in sein Netz; der Tod harrt auf jdn.; der Tod sitzt jdm. auf der Gurgel/im Nacken; der Tod raubt jdm. jdn.; der Tod lauert auf der Straße; listig der Tod mich umschlung); schleichender Tod; Begleiter Tod. The enemy lurks for us, it waits everywhere: Śmierć wszędy na człowieka dybie./wszystkich kosi, Still nur, der blasse Tod ist’s, der sacht Dort durch die Gasse Schleicht in der Nacht. â•… (J. Eichendorff: “Der Kranke”)

Additionally, the death-enemy bears features such as abruptness and cruelty; this is expressed by the epithets straszna śmierć // blutiger/bitterer/grimmiger/ schrecklicher/gewaltsamer Tod. In many phrasemes in both languages, and most especially in German, death’s cruelty is expressed by verbs which denote sudden movement, such as (weg-)raffen/entreißen, rauben, entführen, as in der Tod raubt/ entreißt jdm. jdn.; der Tod entführt jdn.; der Tod entrückt jdn. dem Leben; bis der Tod, der alles raubt/Kommt, sie auch zu rauben. Roughness and cruelty are further underlined by the sharp tools with which Death is equipped, e.g. nóż, strzała, kosa // Sense, Sichel, Pfeil, Hippe [scythe, sickle, arrow], which is evident in the proverb Nie dmij niebożę, śmierć na cię noże ostrzy i strzały, nie będziesz cały., in the poetic expression Kosa śmierci podcięła młode skrzydła. This in is also seen in the German fixed expressions des Todes Sichel/Klingen/(Jäger-)Pfeil; der Tod mit der Sense; Sensemann, or phraseological units rzucać się w paszczę śmierci; wyrwać kogoś ze szponów śmierci10 and lyric verses: Schon kommt der Tod, der schlimme, heran, Und rafft mich von der Erde. â•… (G. Weerth: „Das Lied von verunglückter Kartoffel“)

The fact that death is a cruel enemy fuels fear. Numerous proverbs in Polish and German contain the verb bać się // fürchten, e.g. Kto dobrze robi, śmierci się nie boi.; Młodzi mówią o śmierci, a starzy się jej boją.; Kto się śmierci boi, ten o sławę nie stoi. // Arm ist, wer den Tod wünscht, ärmer wer ihn fürchtet.; Wer den Tod nicht fürchtet, der fürchtet nichts. or the adjective straszny // grausam, as in Nie taka śmierć straszna, jak ją malują. Lyric poetry also reflects the connotation of fear, e.g.:

10 Under the influence of Biblical scenes, death was depicted as a figure with a scythe, sickle, or as a hunter with a bow (Profantova, 1997/1998, p. 113).

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Es ist ein Schnitter, der heißt Tod; Hat Gewalt vom höchsten Gott (…) Trotz Tod! komm her, ich fürcht‘ dich nicht (…) â•… (F. Schlegel: “Totenlied”)

Death as an enemy always comes untimely, unexpectedly, suddenly, or too early. We try to postpone or bribe it,11 so that it leaves us alone and let us live. Such attempts are reflected in expressions, phrases and proverbs in both languages: wysłać kogoś jak po śmierć // Dich wäre gut nach dem Tod schicken [to wait a long time for somebody]; Śmierć dnia nie poczeka./i najprędszego dogoni./nie przebiera./ nie pyta o lata; Gdy śmierć zawita, o racje nie pyta.; Na śmierć idąc, na ciasny trzewik utyskuje.; Myśli za górami, a śmierć za plecami.; Śmierci szukać nie trzeba, sama przychodzi. // Der Tod kommt ungeladen. Very high frequency in the text corpora in both languages is observed with of the expressions przedwczesna/nagła śmierć // der frühe/unerwartete/plötzliche Tod, although it should be noted that these expressions are predominantly used in relation to young people. It comes from the conceptual frame of death in both languages. Death is a natural stage in human existence, a normal phenomenon which follows long and fully accomplished life. Premature death, however, is an extraordinary event, which can be expressed in both languages by the expressions given above and in lyrical verses below: Prędkoś mi nazbyt umilkła, nagle cię sroga Śmierć spłoszyła, moja wdzięczna szczebiotko droga. â•… (J. Kochanowski: „Tren VI“) Lieber Tod! geh doch nur weiter. Da! Hier ist die ganze Tasche! Alle diese Schwanzdukaten Hab ich einst für dich gewechselt. Nimm sie hin und geh nur weiter. â•… (L. Gleim: „Bitte um ein längeres Leben“) Lass mich, Tod, lass mich noch leben! â•… (M. Claudius: „An den Tod“)

11 A Polish researcher of folk culture, D. Simonides, writes in his monograph devoted to specific customs related to stages of human progression: “Old folk wisdom knows three representations of death: the first has holes in its hands (…) Death with holes in its hands comes to rich people, and the holes are to preclude bribery.” (1988, p. 124). The motif of attempts at bribing death with money is also known in painting. D. Simonides (1988, p. 129) gives the example of XVII Century frescoes discovered in the latter half of the XX Century in St. Jadwiga’s Church in Bierdzany in the Opole region, presenting a rich man trying to buy off death.

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This linguistically entrenched image of death as an enemy provides, both in Polish and German, grounds for emergence of a metaphorical meaning of the lexemes śmierć // Tod to refer to danger or threat, as in zakręt śmierci; komuś grozi śmierć; igrać ze śmiercią; raz kozie śmierć; cudem uniknąć śmierci; zaglądać/ patrzeć śmierci w twarz/w oczy; śmierć zagląda/zaziera/patrzy komuś w oczy; być w śmiertelnym niebezpieczeństwie // die Nähe von Tod und Leben [extreme danger]; dem Tod ins Auge schauen [to be in great danger]; in Not und Tod zusammenstehen [to stick together in great danger]. Man realizes, however, the inevitability of the defeat by this opponent. Death is everyone’s fate which none can evade (see the Polish colloquial saying: Muszę to tylko umrzeć: „Muszę, droga pani, to ja tylko umrzeć…“ – to wypowiedziany specyficznym głosem Bogusława Lindy cytat z jednego z polskich filmów tzw. męskiego kina. www.mlodzi.niedziela.pl, 12.09.2012). The image is found in numerous proverbs in both languages which express the inevitability of death and the certainty that it is going to reach every individual regardless of their age or origin.12 The characteristics of death made salient are incorruptibility, inexorability, along with related justness, e.g. Śmierci nie trzeba szukać, sama przyjdzie; Śmierć nie przebiera./nie patrzy w zęby./nie pyta o lata./nikomu nie przepuszcza./ nikogo nie mija.; Śmierć nie zna prawa żadnego, bierze z panem ubogiego.; Bogacz a świnia, po śmierci zwierzyna.; Śmierć wszystkich pobrata.; Śmierci się żaden nie wywierci.; Na śmierć nie ma lekarstwa. // Gegen den Tod ist kein Kraut gewachsen.; Der Tod ist/lauert überall, er kommt zu Fest und zu Ball; Der Tod ist gewiss, doch ungewiss die Stunde.; Der Tod hat noch keinen vergessen.; Der Tod frisst alle Menschenkind, fragt nicht, wes Stand sie sind.; Der Tod, der klopft bei allen an, beim Kaiser und beim Bettelmann.; Der Tod und deine Frau sind dir vom Gott bestimmt (see Profantová, 1997/1998, p. 115; 2006, p. 304). Tylko głupcy nie boją się. Lęk zrównuje wszystkich, jak śmierć.

In linguistic imagery in both Polish and German, death is insuperable. It is, thus, a true power. This is affirmed by such expressions such as for example pan życia i śmierci; vom Tod besiegt; die Gewalt des Todes; der gewaltsame Tod, phraseological comparisons, e.g. mocny/silny jak śmierć; by proverbs, such as Kto się na śmierć odważy, ten się wszystkiego waży.; Kto się śmierci boi, ten o sławę nie stoi.; Kto śmierć wzgardzi, panem jest wszystkiego. // Viele Hunde sind des Hasen Tod [a single man means nothing against a great power], as well as by poetic texts, e.g.: Mistrzostwo śmierci i śmierci potęga Białego kwiatu utrwaliły białość. â•… (A. Asnyk: „Zmarłej dziewicy“)

12 Conviction of death’s inevitability is reflected in the medieval motto Memento mori.

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Der Tod ist groß Wir sind die Seinen (…) â•… (R.M. Rilke: „Schlussstück“) Es ist ein Schnitter, der heißt Tod, Hat Gewalt vom höchsten Gott (…) â•… (A. Arnim; C. Brentano : „Des Knaben Wunderhorn“)

The power of death is revealed in both languages by many linguistic units meaning ‘very, strongly, intensely’. These are derivatives of the lexemes śmierć // Tod - śmiertelnie // tödlich, as in śmiertelnie zmęczony/ niewyspany/znudzony/ obrażony/zagniewany/poważny/przerażony; śmiertelny strach/zmęczenie/cisza/ nuda/powaga/wróg/uraza/zemsta/tęsknota/niebezpieczeństwo; do śmierci ‘forever’ (e.g. wdzięczny do śmierci) // tödlicher Haß/Ernst/tödliche Langeweile; jdn. tödlich beleidigen; eine tödlich banale Geschichte. In German compounds with the qualifying morpheme tod-, e.g. todfroh/-hungrig/-bang/-bleich/-blaß/-elend/-ernst /-feind /-krank /-langweilig /-müde /-schick /-sicher /-traurig/-unglücklich/-wund; Todesangst, Todesfurcht, Todesnot, Todfeind, Todsünde also occur. This intensity is likewise apparent with respect to the highly productive phraseological unit na śmierć // zu Tode/auf den Tod/(bis) in den Tod [to death], found in combination with various verbs or adjectives used to describe states, which express a considerable degree of intensity, e.g.: zamartwiać się/nudzić się/zapomnieć o czymś/ zapracowywać się/ zapijać się na śmierć/zamęczać kogoś/zagadać kogoś na śmierć // zu Tode erschrocken/betrübt sein, sich zu Tode schämen/langweilen, jdn. bis in den Tod beschämen; bis in den Tod treu sein; in den Tod lieben/hassen, nicht leiden können; etw. zu Tode reiten/hetzen; auf den Tod krank/jdm. zuwider sein; etw. mit Todesverachtung tun [very bravely]; sich den Tod holen [to become gravely ill]; tausend Tode sterben [to be dead scared], Idiomatic comparisons referring to poor appearance of a sick person, e.g.: wyglądać jak trzy ćwierci do śmierci/jak śmierć na chorągwi; blady jak śmierć // wie der Tod von Basel/Warszau/wie der leibhaftige Tod aussehen. The lexemes śmierć // Tod are used to express the high intensity of an action or phenomenon particularly with respect to phraseological units combined with lexemes życie // Leben, e.g. walczyć/walka na śmierć i życie; kwestia/sprawa/zagadnienie życia i śmierci; przyjaźń na śmierć i życie // kämpfen auf Tod und Leben. Conceptual antinomy of ‘life’ and ‘death’ is also consolidated by linguistic imagery in terms of contrast. In both languages life is associated with spring (see Sicińska, 2008, p. 216) (e.g. budzić się do życia, w kwiecie życia, wiosna budzi świat do życia). Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer wrote Któż nam powróci te lata stracone bez wiosennego w wiośnie życia nieba., 259

Razem z wiosną do Rogatki wraca życie. â•…(www.echodnia.eu, 12.03.2013) Życie ma swój ustalony biologiczny rytm. Od czasu do czasu burze przerywają jego bieg, ale wiosna, lato, jesień, zima następują po sobie jak urodzenie, życie, śmierć. â•… (www.pani.wiosna.w.interia.pl, 1.08.2013) Das Leben dünkt ein ewiges Frühling mir. â•…(www.zazzle.com) Der Frühling bringt ein neues Leben. â•…(www.flickr.com)

Death in turn is depicted as winter - winter landscape looks dead, falling snow covers the ground, in such moments everything seems motionless, devoid of life, nature seems dead, M.L. Kaschnitz in the short story “Orte” writes about a winter park which has died: Ganz plötzlich ist der Park gestorben, streckt kahle Äste in den windigen Himmel., K.A. Meyer stresses in “Winterruhe” that the world in winter looks as if it was dead: Am Barbaratag, wenn drauβen alles erstorben scheint (…). Many examples from lyric poetry confirm this “deadly” imagery of winter, e.g. Der Winter ist der Feind der bunten Auen und aller Blumen Tod (…) (Fleming: „Frühlingsgedichte“); Sieht man den Wald so tief in den Tod versunken/will man‘s nicht glauben, daß er jemals aufgrünt im Lenz (…) (Lenau: „Die nächtliche Fahrt“), So steigt der bleiche Schwan, der Tod, hernieder (…) (D. Liliencron: „Der Winter“), (…) kein Baum wird dich trösten/in den Kronen zerborstener Winter/wächst dein Tod (…) The practice of identifying winter with death is also conspicuous in the Polish folk tradition of drowning Marzanna, a doll which symbolize death. In German it is apparent in the period of carnival, whose customs were primarily to deter winter along with its demons (see Profantova, 1997/1998, p. 112; Hoffman-Krayer & BächtoldStäubli, 1987, p. 971). When identified with winter, death is associated with coldness, which is manifest in numerous excerpts from Polish and German poetry: chłodny dotyk śmierci /des Todes kalter Hauch [the cold touch of death], der Tod kalt durch die Erde geht (…); der bitterlich eiskalte Tod; O weh, mich küsst der kalte Tod; I leżałem jak pogrzebany pod białym śniegiem/I spałem samotnym, zimnym snem śmierci (por. Płomińska, 2011), Godzina moja się zbliża i otaczają ciemności - (…) a w głębi widzę gad zimny (…) ja śmierć - ja Bóg - nie umieram. â•… (T. Miciński: „Morietur Stella”)

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Biadaż! o biada złej mojej doli! Serce od serca któż przyniewoli? Mnie z chłodną śmiercią brać zaręczyny, Kiedy już nie ma mojej dziewczyny. â•… (F. Faleński: „Topielica“) A może wyszło ze mnie moje życie i tam, w to zimne, marmurowe łoże, tam poszło leżeć w trumnie, z tem umarłem… â•… (K. Przerwa-Tetmajer: „O zimny marmur …“) Da beschleicht ihn dumpfe Trauer, Ihm erlischt der Wange Rot, Und ihn mahnt ein kalter Schauer An den Tod, den frühen Tod (…) â•… (F. Hebbel: „Das Opfer des Frühlings“) Und unterm weiβen Schnee lag ich begraben Und schlief den einsamen kalten Todesschlag. â•… (H. Heine: „Nachts in der Kajüte“) Śmierć jest długim snem i chłodną nocą (…) â•… (www. aagulka.art.pl 13.08.2013)

Associations with spring and, consequently, life include the sun, light, brightness, day (e.g. Czemu ty, słońce, świecisz i budzisz życie?(…) K. Przerwa-Tetmajer: „Czemu ty słońce świecisz“; Czyli nas już umarłe macie za stracone/I którym już na wieki słońce jest zgaszone? J. Kochanowski: Trenody XIX). Sepulchral inscriptions also reaffirm connotations of life and the sun, e.g. I nasze słonko tak krótko świeciło (Marciniak, 2000, p. 192)13. Linguistic imagery contains such connotations of death as darkness, night and dream,14 e.g. sen nieprzespany/ 13 The connotation of life as light is confirmed by the metaphorical naming of death as extinguishing light, also as an euphemism, as in Polish zgasnąć jak gwiazda; czyjaś gwiazda zgasła [someone’s star has gone out] (see sepulchral inscriptions collected by Marciniak, 2000, e.g. ktoś zgasł w … wiośnie życia), in German jdm. das Lebenslicht ausblasen ‘to kill somebody’. At the same time the sequence of adversative connotations white - black, day - night, life - death is reaffirmed (see Profantova 2006, p. 313; Płomińska, 2010; 2011). 14 The German theologist and expert in religious studies H.-P. Hasenfratz (2009, p. 17) underlines in his study devoted to death the practice of visiting the dead on a holiday during the dark winter season of the year: „Wer in Frieden mit der Gemeinschaft, der er angehört, stirbt und von ihr bestattet wird, ist ein ‘seliger Toter’. Er ‚lebt‘ als solcher im Schoße der Gemeinschaft (…) weiter, wird von ihr erinnert (…), besucht sie gelegentlich, besonders im dunklen Winterhalbjahr (Totenbesuchsfeste) (…)“ (Ibid.).

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wieczny/wiekuisty; brat snu // Schlafes Bruder. Examples of the connotations listed can also be found in lyrical writings: des Todes Schatten; die Nacht des Todes; mit dem leisen Tritte nahte sich der Tod; Wenn schon der Tod gespannt den finsteren Bogen (…); des Lebens finstrer Hasser - Tod; deckte dir der lange Schlummer/Der Tod die Augen zu (…); Tod ist ein langer Schlaf, Schlaf ist ein kurzer Tod: Lecz ja trwam, by śnić jeszcze na mogile nieba, Mrok, któremu śmierć chmurna rozczesuje brwi. â•… (B. Leśmian: „Cisza krzykiem Nocy“) (…) ich will mit dir versinken In Tod und Nacht, Vernichtung trinken! â•… (H. Heine: „Leib und Seele“) Weiter wurde sein Leben durch den unfassbaren Tod seines Sohnes Norbert überschattet.

In German, this image also has etymological foundation: the German lexeme Tod stems from the verb touwen ‘sterben’ (to die), a verb which belongs to the word group ‘Dunst’ (Eng. ‘steam, fog, smoke, cloud’) (idg.) *dheu-, *dheue- ‘stieben, wirbeln, blasen; rauchen, dampfen; in heftiger Bewegung sein’ (in Polish: ‘sypać się, wirować, powiewać; parować, dymić, gwałtownie się poruszać’), and means ‘betäubt, bewußtlos werden’ (in Polish ‘być otumanionym, nieprzytomnym’) (DUDEN E pp. 746–748; pp. 141–143). The image of death as silence is relatively stable in both languages:15 (…) o śmierci się nie mówi w ogóle, o śmierci można tylko milczeć, śmierć jest wielką ciszą (…), Ach, nie płacz, nie płacz, to jest takie nic, smutne ucichanie, a właściwie to jest cisza pierwsza i jedyna… â•… (K.K. Baczyński: „Śmierć“) Der du still im Abendlichte Wandelst durch der Erde Beet (…) â•… (Uhland: “An den Tod”)

We may also see here a link with sleep and night, both representing darkness, which, could be explained by experience with and observation of the dead (closed eyes, resemblance of sleepers, surroundings of darkness). Death is also 15 Identification of death with silence was already known in ancient Rome. Ph. Ariés (1988, p. 36) wrote: “On Feralia, the holiday of the dead, Romans, according to Ovid, sacrificed a fish with a stitched mouth to the mute goddess Tacita, which alluded to silence of the death’s realm (locus ille silentiis aptus) (it is a place filled with silence.”

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compared to sleep in the Bible (Psalm 13, 4). Jesus used this comparison at the resurrection of Lazarus when he said “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.” (J 11, 11). Luther also as wrote about death as sleep: “Death is so to say an escape from life (…). Death is a dream” (cited in Rożek, 2012, p. 170). On the other hand, this is a euphemism connected with tabooisation of death observed over centuries (see Ariés 1988, 97). Euphemisation of death and its comparison to sleep is also evident in verbs which refer to dying in both languages, e.g. zasnąć (w Bogu/Panu), zamknąć oczy // ein-/ entschlafen, ein-/entschlummern, and in sepulchral inscriptions Śpij spokojnie; Zasnął u progu życia; Spoczął snem wiecznym // Schlafe wohl; Schlafe schön, kleiner Engel (see Marciniak, 2008, pp. 188–190). Similarly, in lyrical texts death is frequently referred to as sen, noc // Nacht, Schlaf, Schlummer:16 (…) Już ona członeczków swych wami nie odzieje Nie masz, nie masz nadzieje! Ujął ją sen żelazny, twardy, nieprzespany… â•… (J. Kochanowski, Tren VII) Zasnęła cicho i nic jej nie zbudzi: Ani płacz siostry, ani matki łkanie, Ani gwar obcych a ciekawych ludzi, Co otoczyli śmiertelne posłanie (…) â•… (A. Asnyk,”Zmarłej dziewicy”) (…) Gelobt sei uns die ewige Nacht, Gelobt sei der ewige Schlummer (…) â•… (Novalis, „Sehnsucht nach dem Tode“) Sei guten Muts! ich bin nicht wild, Sollst sanft in meinen Armen schlafen. â•… (M. Claudius, „Der Tod und das Mädchen“) Komm, o Nacht! - und nimm mich hin, Dass ich schlafend mich vergesse, Länger nicht mit wachem Sinn Meines Kummers Tiefen messe. â•… (J. Sturm, „Komm, o Nacht …“)

16 The image of death as sleep may also be connected with the old belief that the dead are sleeping. Ph. Ariés (1977, p. 36) remarks: “It was believed that the dead are sleeping. This credence was old and durable.” According to a French tanatologist, belief in the sleep of the deceased is best expressed in the legend about seven sleepers of Ephesus, martyrs whose bodies were laid in a stone grotto. They lay inside for 377 years until they were resurrected, i.e. raised by the Lord. This legend was to contribute to proliferation of the belief in sleep of the dead.

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Life is a gift, a precious asset (e.g. expressions rozkoszować się życiem; dać komuś życie, oddać życie za coś, ocalić/narażać/postradać życie // einem Kind das Leben schenken [give birth to a child], jds. Leben retten, sein Leben teuer verkaufen, um jds. Leben zittern; jdm. das Leben retten; etw. hat das Leben gekostet; das Leben genießen (see Sicińska 2008, 215; Bańczerowski & Dziewońska-Kiss, 2011, p. 62). By contrast, linguistic imagery embraces death as a loss. Conventional texts of obituaries, condolences and sepulchral insciptions in Polish and German emptiness created by death, e.g. Będzie nam brakowało Ciebie; Sein Tod ist unwiederbringlicher Verlust; Du wirst uns fehlen; Dein Tod ist ein großer Verlust für uns; Er (hinter-)lässt (in der Familie) eine Lücke; Dein Tod macht mein Leben ärmer; Wiele ubyło jedną duszyczką (Marciniak, 2000, p. 187). This was expressed particularly clearly by Jan Kochanowski in Threnody VIII: Wielkieś mi uczyniła pustki w domu moim, Moja droga Orszulo, tym zniknieniem swoim! Pełno nas, a jakoby nikogo nie było Jedną maluczką duszą tak wiele ubyło.

Life as a dynamic process is identified with work (see Bańczerowski & Dziewońska-Kiss, 2011, p. 61; see Sandomirska, 2000, pp. 359–361) (the Polish derivatives żywy/ożywiony/ożywczy signify ‚vigorous‘, ‚intense‘, as in ożywić się; żywe dziecko; ożywczy powiew; żywe zainteresowanie; ożywione życie towarzyskie; ożywiona dyskusja/rozmowa/korespondencja; był ożywiony, tryskający energią; ożywczy powiew/zapach/napój. The phraseology of both languages also unveils the imagery of the lexemes życie // Leben: dorobek życia; aktywne życie; wyłączyć z aktywnego życia; robić coś z życiem // lebendig, in etw. kommt wieder Leben, etw. hat kein Leben, etw. ins Leben rufen). In contrast with life grasped in this way, death is perceived as rest, which seems apparent in the expressions wieczny odpoczynek [eternal rest]; spoczywać w spokoju [rest in peace] // die ewige Ruhe. This imagery is also present in obituaries, e.g. Spoczywaj w spokoju // Ruhe sanft; Zur ewigen Ruhe (Marciniak, 2000, p. 189), poetic verse and other textual genres17: Du kannst nicht sterben, nicht leben, Die ewige Ruh nicht erwerben (…) â•… (C. Brentano, „Lied von der Wüste“)

17 Ph. Ariés (1977, p. 37) observes the existence already in the XVI Century of the concept ‘placidam ac quietam mausionem’ (shrine of rest) along with the notion of ‘umbra mortis’ (shadow of death). At the same time, the French researcher emphasizes that “rest is the oldest, the most popular and enduring representation of the afterlife” (Ibid.).

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Und zur Ruhe gekommen bist Du nie und nirgends - bis Dich der Tod abgeholt und in die wahre Ruhe geführt hat. (St. Galler Tagblatt, 30.01.2008)

Life brings suffering, or sorrow (trudy życia/trudne koleje życia; mroczne strony życia; szkoła życia; nie mieć łatwego życia; mieć w życiu pod górkę // das Leben ist hart; der Ernst des Lebens; sich durch das Leben schlagen) (see Bańczerowski & Dziewońska-Kiss, 2011, pp. 62–64). Death, as the end of life, means deliverance from these sorrows, and offers solace after a long and exhausting life: (…) Także trzymaj o tem, Jakoś doznał, ani się frasuj, że tak rana Twojej ze wszech namilszej dziewce śmierć zesłana! Nie od rozkoszyć poszła; poszłać od trudności, Od pracej, od frasunków, od łez, od żałośni, Czego świat ma tak wiele, że by też co było W tym doczesnym żywocie człowieczeństwu miło (…) â•… (J. Kochanowski,” Tren XIX”) I wierzyłem, że odtąd nie zginę raz wtóry, Że znajdę przystań w śmierci, a śmierć w tej przystani (…) â•… (B. Leśmian, „Cmentarz“) Geh in die Schanz froh wie zum Tanz, Heil gibt der Tod, das Leben Not. â•… (C. Brentano, „Soldaten-Katechismus“) Quälen, Keuchen, Kampf Um ein kärglich Brot, Ach, wann machst du frei, Lebenssonntag - Tod. â•… (O.J. Bierbaum, „Sonntag“)

The cultural and linguistic imagery of death as entrenched in Polish and German does not display major differences. Existing dissimilarities derive from the etymology of Death - which in Polish points to ‘destruction’ and in German to ‘haze, unconsciousness’. Linguistic imagery has been predominantly shaped by the experience of human existence, divided into stages which make a time sequence encompassing birth-life-death, but also by experience of the death of other people. Ingeneral overall imagery is formed by the ontological perspective. Philosophical systems, such as Greek or Roman mythology and Christianity, or general cultural factors (see Aries, 2007) have had less influence on it. In both languages, equally along the systemic dimension expressed in stabl language units and from analysis of text corpora, the close connection of both concepts is 265

reaffirmed. This linkage assumes two forms - they complement one another or stand in opposition with each other. It should be added that both types of linkage are also mutually intertwined. In the first type of relation, death is the last phase of human existence. It determines the final stage of life and defines its end. In the second type of relation, the contrast between life and death becomes prominent. These notions are regarded as good and evil respectively. Death, which concludes or interrupts a good life, is an enemy to which features such as abruptness, cruelty, deviousness, inexorability, incorruptibility, but also justice are ascribed. Additionally, death is inevitable and insuperable and is thus perceived as power. Moreover, a process of “symmetrization” can be observed in the expressions of life and death lying in grasping them in similar backgrounds and assigning the contrary features (Bartmiński, 2009, p. 314). Both notions are grasped as opposite 1. seasons of year: spring - winter with antonymous features: brightness darkness, warmth - cold, whereas darkness is usually associated with sleep and silence, both preserved in the imagery of death, and 2. processes: work - rest. The antonymous relation of both concepts, although weaker than in the examples given above, is visible as well in the representation of life as something filled with sorrows and suffering, being redeemed by death, man’s ally.

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Röhrich. L. (1988). Lexikon der sprichwörtlichen Redensarten. Freiburg, Basel, Wien: Herder Verlag. Skorupka, S. (1985). Słownik frazeologiczny języka polskiego. Vol. 3 R-Ż. Wiedza Powszechna: Warszawa. Szymczak, M. (1993). Słownik Języka Polskiego. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN. Wójcik, A., & Ziebart, H. (1997). Słownik przysłów niemiecko-polski, polskoniemiecki. Sprichwörterbuch Deutsch-Polnisch, Polnisch-Deutsch. Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna. www.kurzgeschichten-gedichte.de www.lyrik-lesezeichen.de/gedichte/matthias_claudius.php www.ids-mannheim.de/cosmas2/win-app/install www.literat.ug.edu.pl www.korpus.pwn.pl www.korpus.pl

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Joanna Podhorodecka Pedagogical University of Cracow

‘Do we always like doing the things that we like to do?’ Non-finite complementation of the verb Like1 Abstract The aim of this study is to examine the usage of the two alternative non-finite complements of the verb like, the gerundive –ing and the to-infinitive. The study is based on corpus material and uses correlational analysis to establish which factors isolated in the data motivate the speakers’ choice between the two constructions. The to-infinitive, as opposed to the –ing form, is described as bounded and more verbal in character (Hamawand 2004: 455), therefore more telic and agentive. These features correspond to the characteristics of a prototypical transitive clause (Hopper and Thompson 1980). The author sets out to check whether this correlation is reflected in the degree of transitivity of the complement verbs appearing in both constructions. Keywords complementation; non-finite clause; -ing form; to-infinitive; transitivity

Introduction The assumption that a difference in form is inevitably connected with a difference in meaning is particularly clearly substantiated in the area of clausal complementation, where the diversity of complement forms reflects the range of potential construals of the integration between the main verb event and the complement event (Givon, 1993, pp. 2–3). The possibility of a particular verb and complement combination depends on the compatibility of the verb’s meaning with the schematic meaning of the construction. Some verbs are polysemous and compatible with different types of complement clauses (Hamawand, 2004, p. 452). The aim of this study is to examine one such verb, the positive attitude verb like, in order to establish what semantic, syntactic and pragmatic factors influence the speakers’ choice between its two alternative complements: the gerundive –ing and the to-infinitive. 1 Proofread by Ann Cardwell.

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The verb like can combine with either an –ing or a to-infinitive complement, in many contexts without an immediately apparent difference in meaning: 1a. She likes talking about her brother.2 1b. Anglers like to talk of ‘the one that got away’, but at least they occasionally bag a fish to flesh out their claims. Both sentences describe a habitual positive attitude of the subject towards the complement process. We can see, however, that the nature of the positive attitude differs slightly between pure enjoyment in 1a. and willingness or inclination in 1b. The difference results from the way that the complement event is viewed and the degree to which it is integrated with the main verb event. It is a difference in construal, the way that the syntactic form of the complement structures the information, and it can be accounted for in relation to more general properties of the –ing and to-infinitive complements.

The ‘Like –ing’ and ‘Like to-infinitive’ Complement Constructions The usage of different complement forms is motivated by iconic principles (Verspoor, 2000, p. 202). The semantic integration between the two events, the main verb event and the complement event, is reflected in the degree of syntactic integration of the complement clause into the main clause. A greater degree of event integration causes the complement clause to become more nominal and less verbal in character, while a less fully integrated complement will more closely resemble a finite, independent clause (Givon, 1993, pp. 2–3). This process can be described in relation to a finiteness scale, extending from a lexical nominal to a finite verb form with tense and aspect (Givon, 1993, p. 27). The two alternative non-finite complements of the verb like, the gerundive –ing and the to-infinitive, are positioned in the middle of the scale, but the –ing form is less finite and more nominal in character than the to-infinitive complement. A similar observation on the more nominal and more verbal nature of complement constructions is made by Hamawand (2004, pp. 452–455), who describes the difference between the –ing and the to-infinitive complements in terms of three basic factors: their temporal reference, their aspect and their more nominal or more verbal character. The –ing complement is more nominal in character, unbounded in time and non-subsequent to the main event (either previous or simultaneous with it). The to-infinitive is more verbal, and therefore more agentive, bounded in time and subsequent to the main event. Used in 2 All examples from the British National Corpus, emphasis and comments added.

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actual communication, these features yield a number of pragmatic inferences, which may motivate the complement choice in a specific context. The ones particularly relevant to the verb like relate to the aspect of the to-infinitive complement: the to-infinitive event is bounded in time, so it is usually assumed to be completed rather than uncompleted, infrequent rather than frequent and premeditated rather than spontaneous. Verspoor (1996, 1999) contrasts the –ing form and the to-infinitive in respect of such features of construal as the viewing frame (the part of the event that is in focus) and conceptual proximity or distance, i.e. direct or indirect experience of the event. The –ing complement form construes the event as directly experienced and viewed from an internal perspective, i.e. “such a close range that the boundaries of the event are not within the subject’s perceptual scope” (Verspoor, 1996, p. 436). Direct experience and a close vantage point cause the event to be viewed subjectively, which makes this complement form compatible with many verbs of emotion. The event is also factive: using the –ing form typically implies that the complement event has actually happened. The to-infinitive on the other hand construes the event as experienced indirectly and it has a “distancing function” (Verspoor, 1999, p. 505) in that it signifies either temporal or epistemic distance. This is to a great extent motivated by the fact that the to-infinitive inherits from the preposition to its path-goal sense, which entails the notions of both distance and direction (Egan, 2008, p. 95). In other words, the to-infinitive expresses “a moving towards an action, but not being there yet” (Verspoor, 1999, p. 524). Such a perspective means that the point of view is situated before the event and that the event is viewed as a whole. Thus, while the –ing complement construction expresses “a personal, emotional reaction to the event”, the to-infinitive describes “a projected attitude towards a future event, not a reaction to it” (Verspoor, 1996, p. 447). In other words, the causal relations between the events are reversed: with ‘like –ing’, the subject experiences the complement event directly and consequently attributes to it a positive value, while with ‘like to-infinitive’, the subject attributes a positive value to the complement event and consequently aims to bring it about whenever possible. In the light of the above mentioned features of the two alternative complements of like, let us consider once again the examples in 1a. and 1b., repeated here for convenience as 2a. and 2b.: 2a. She likes talking about her brother. 2b. Anglers like to talk of ‘the one that got away’, but at least they occasionally bag a fish to flesh out their claims. 273

The ‘like –ing’ construction describes the enjoyment of the activity in progress, at the moment of being directly experienced by the subject. The enjoyment is simultaneous with the process, and because it is experienced directly, the focus is on the person’s subjective reaction to it. By contrast, the to-infinitive exemplified in 2b. can more adequately be described in terms of a habitual tendency rather than enjoyment, “a prior disposition inclining the subject to actualize the infinitive’s event” (Duffley, 2006, p. 86). The construction is more verbal, and therefore more agentive: it describes the subject’s volition directed at the complement process: anglers are willing to talk about that particular subject. The complement process is construed as bounded and instead of an unspecified duration it profiles “a series of individual occurrences” (Dirven, 1989, p. 115), so 2b. evokes repeated mentions of the fish that got away rather than a continuous discussion of the subject. The event is completed: the anglers not so much enjoy the communicative process itself, but find a measure of satisfaction in successfully conveying a particular message and making a specific impression on the listener (‘The fish got away, but it was that big!’). Another pair of examples should make more apparent the difference between the two constructions related to the boundedness of the complement process: 3a. He likes making things out of wood. 3b. I’m a manufacturer, I like to make things, I like to hold something at the end of day and say that’s something that’s been created. In 3a., the subject finds the creative process itself enjoyable, so the positive value is attributed to the actual experience of the activity in progress. The complement process is construed as unbounded: we ‘zoom into’ the event, so its completeness is not important, only its internal stages. In 3b. it is no longer the direct experience of the event as it happens, but an indirect, more rational assessment of its results. The unbounded duration in 3a. is contrasted with a series of individual occurrences of the process in 3b. The positive value is attributed to each completed instance of the process and its actual product. The aspect of agentivity and control in the two constructions can be illustrated by 4a. and 4b. below: 4a. There are actors who like making movies, but I’ve never enjoyed it. 4b. (…) the kind of person television companies like to make films about In 4a. the actors enjoy the ongoing process of movie making. The event is frequent, in a sense that it happens routinely and bringing it about does not require any special effort on the part of the subject. In 4b. the companies tend to produce films about a particular type of people. The process does not occur in the normal 274

course of events, but depends on the subject’s volition and choice. Typically, television companies have more control over the process of film making, but it is the individual actor that is more directly involved in it and can emotionally react to it – the company cannot be said to actually enjoy the process. Because of the institutional nature of the subject, the notion of enjoyment is backgrounded and the aspect of meaning that is in focus is the habitual repetition of the event. The examples above have hopefully demonstrated that due to the more verbal and therefore more agentive construal of its complement process, the ‘like toinfinitive’ construction brings together the notions of volition, habituality and satisfaction rather than enjoyment. Thus, the answer to the question posed in the title, whether we always like doing the things that we like to do, turns out to be negative: linguistic data abound in examples of actions, such as solving problems or getting one’s shopping done early, that are not strictly speaking enjoyable in themselves, but once successfully completed, bring one certain benefits and a measure of satisfaction.

The Usage of ‘Like –ing’ and ‘Like to-infinitive’ The Scope and Methods of the Analysis In what follows I will examine the actual usage of the ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’ in order to establish which features of the complement verbs could possibly motivate the choice between the two constructions. Particular attention will be paid to the properties related to the notion of transitivity. This study was prompted by the observation that many features ascribed to the to-infinitive complement correspond fairly closely to the transitive clause prototype as described by Hopper and Thompson (1980, p. 252). In a prototypical transitive clause, a volitional agent and an affected patient participate in a dynamic, perfective event. The event is real rather than hypothetical; it involves kinetic action and results in energy transfer. Clauses describing typically transitive events are more likely to exhibit typically transitive syntactic behavior, in terms of e.g. case marking or passivization. The to-inf complement clause, as opposed to the –ing, is more verbal and therefore agentive, implying a higher degree of subject control (Hamawand, 2004, p. 455). It is bounded in time (Egan, 2008, p. 99), so it usually denotes a complete, telic event. Features such as agentivity, volitionality and telicity are important elements of the transitive prototype. By contrast, the –ing form is unbounded and non-agentive. Could this imply that the to-inf complement clause as a construction is characterized by a higher degree of transitivity and consequently is likely to attract more transitive verbs? 275

In order to examine the potential relationship between transitivity and complement choice, a sample of 300 tokens of the verb like was downloaded from the British National Corpus, 150 of them followed by the –ing complement and the remaining 150 by the to-infinitive. Modalized verbs, preceded by would, should or might, were excluded from the analysis. The examples were coded for a number of syntactic, semantic and pragmatic factors related to the transitive prototype and analyzed by means of an R statistical programming environment.

The Features Related to the Main Verb: Register, Polarity and Agency Hierarchy The features that proved statistically significant for the distinction between the –ing or to-infinitive complement of like can be divided into two general categories: those related to the main verb and those related to the complement verb. The first group comprises the register, the polarity of the clause (positive or negative) and the agency hierarchy of the main subject, while the second includes the aktionsart (lexical aspect) of the complement verb, its semantic field and transitivity type. The results of the correspondence analysis of the first group of factors are presented in Figure 1 below: Figure 1: The correspondence analysis of like –ing and like to-inf. Factors: register, polarity and agency hierarchy of the main subject



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The figure above shows the strength of correlation between particular factors: the closer the two features are situated on the graph, the more closely they are correlated in the data. In terms of register, the –ing form of the complement is clearly more characteristic of spoken language and slightly more likely to appear in fiction, whereas the contexts more typical for the to-infinitive are news and academic language (acad), and to a lesser extent, non-fiction (non-fic) and magazines (mag). This seems to indicate that the to-infinitive complement is more likely to occur in more formal registers. An interesting regularity can be noticed in the polarity of the clause: the verb with the –ing complement is much more frequent in the negative, which happens in 35% of the examined sample, as compared with 13% for the to-infinitive. Thus, ‘like –ing’ is twice as likely to be negated than its infinitive counterpart. This tendency makes the negative ‘like –ing’ similar to other negative attitude verbs, which either consistently take the –ing complement (e.g. dislike or detest) or like the verb hate, show a strong tendency to do so (Egan, 2008, p. 171). The third distinction featured in Figure 1 is the agency hierarchy of the main subject, a ranking of nominals according to their definiteness. It is based on the observed connection between discourse relevance and semantic role: the clausal participants higher in the hierarchy are more likely to be agents/subjects in unmarked constructions. The hierarchy used for this study is based on Aissen’s (1999, p. 674) hierarchy of person and distinguishes between the following categories: SAP (speech act participants, i.e. first and second person pronouns), pronouns (a third person pronoun with specific reference and the antecedent earlier in the discourse), proper nouns and common nouns. The –ing complement is consistently associated with subjects higher in the hierarchy: 65% of the tokens in the sample have speech act participants as subjects. Proper and common nouns are more characteristic of the to-infinitive constructions, whereas third person pronouns are almost equally typical of both complement types. Thus, the to-infinitive form of the complement is characterized by more formal registers and a lesser degree of discourse givenness, while the –ing is more typical of informal context, where it appears with a first or second person subject and it is more likely to combine with negation. These regularities seem to support Verspoor’s (1996) description of the –ing form as more subjective.

The Features Related to the Complement Verb: Aktionsart, Semantic Field and Transitivity The most statistically significant differences, however, are associated with the complement verb. The distinctions that proved particularly salient are: the 277

aktionsart (lexical aspect) of the complement clause, the semantic field of the complement verb and its transitivity type. The term aktionsart refers to a set of distinctions originally introduced by Vendler (1967) and here adopted in the form presented in Croft (2012, p. 44). The system classifies verbs according to their dynamicity, telicity and duration. It features four basic categories: states (stative, atelic, durative), activities (dynamic, atelic, durative), accomplishments (dynamic, telic, durative) and achievements (dynamic, telic, punctual). They are exemplified respectively in 5a–5d below: 5a. You like to feel useful. (state) 5b. Roman ladies liked to sleep with their pearls. (activity) 5c. Hated writing stories but she likes reading them. (accomplishment) 5d. Some like to throw a snowball. (achievement) The aktionsart of the complement clauses of the ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’ constructions is presented in Figure 2 below: Figure 2: Aktionsart of the complement verb

The ‘like –ing’ construction favours activities, which are durative events without an inherent endpoint, while the complement verbs of ‘like to-infinitive’ are more evenly distributed across the event types. Activities are again the most numerous category, but their predominance is less clearly marked: achievements, punctual and telic, are only marginally less numerous and there is a certain number of verbs which instantiate the remaining two categories, i.e. states and accomplishments. So, the ‘like –ing’ construction fairly consistently construes its complement as an activity, i.e. as durative and atelic, while ‘like to-infinitive’ allows a number of other aspectual construals. 278

The main problem with characterizing the difference between ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’ in terms of aktionsart is that the aspectual reading of a particular complement clause is to a great extent influenced by the construction itself: the –ing form construes its complement event as unbounded, and this prompts its atelic reading. What seems to have more explanatory value are the characteristics of the complement verb itself: its semantic field and transitivity type. Five main semantic classes of the complement verbs have been distinguished in the data: action, motion, utterance, perception and cognition verbs. They are exemplified in 6a-6e: 6a. I like playing bingo games. (action) 6b. I must admit I don’t like going anywhere without Arf. (motion) 6c. I don’t like talking about Eve behind her back. (utterance) 6d. I don’t like to see them suffer. (perception) 6e. I don’t like to think of you in the cottage all by yourself. (cognition) Figure 3 below shows the proportion of particular semantic classes among the complements of the ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’ constructions. Figure 3: Semantic field of the complement verb

Once again, the ‘like –ing’ complement construction clearly prefers one type of verb over the others, and most frequently, in fact in exactly two-thirds of the sample, combines with action verbs. For ‘like to-infinitive’, action verbs constitute slightly over one-third of the examined sample, accompanied by a considerable number of utterance and cognition verbs. Interesting regularities can be noticed in the frequency of individual verbs with both constructions. The two most frequent verbs for ‘like –ing’ turn out to 279

be go and work, appearing respectively 10 and 9 times within the examined sample. Both are dynamic intransitive verbs which describe durative events. For the ‘like to-infinitive’ the most frequent verbs were think and see, with respectively 19 and 11 occurrences. Think is usually a stative cognition verb followed by a clausal object, while see shares with other perception verbs the ability to be construed either as a durative state or a punctual act of perception and it has a wide range of complementation patterns. The most frequent utterance verbs for ‘like to-inf ’ are call, say and admit, all describing telic and relatively brief events. So, verbs characteristically combining with ‘like to-infinitive’ are either stative or telic. By contrast, verbs frequently occurring with ‘like –ing’ form a less unified category: telic say and atelic talk, telic/stative see and atelic look and watch are equally frequent. This shows that ‘like –ing’ combines with various types of verbs, whereas ‘like to-infinitive’ has a preference either for stative verbs or for telic verbs, describing short, perfective actions. The factor that proved the most statistically significant for the distinction between ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’ is the transitivity of the complement verb. Tested individually against the construction choice, it achieved the p-value of 1.43e-063. Figure 4 below shows the proportion of the main transitivity classes among the complement verbs in the sample: Figure 4: Transitivity class of the complement verb

3 P-value represents the probability of the correspondence being random, expressed by a number between 1 and 0. The closer to 0 the p-value is, the more significant is the correlation. The p-value of 1.43e-06 corresponds to 0.00000143, so it denotes a very high statistical significance.

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This time it is the ‘like to-infinitive’ construction that favours a single predominant alternative: a substantial majority of 81% of its complement verbs are transitive. For the ‘like –ing’ construction they also constitute a majority, but a much less pronounced one. The construction has transitive complement verbs in 55% of the examples, as compared with 43% having intransitive verbs. Link verbs are a minority with both complement types. Further correlations emerge if the division into particular transitive patterns is introduced. The following transitivity types could be distinguished among the complement verbs in the sample: monotransitive verbs with either nominal, prepositional or clausal objects, complex transitive verbs and ditransitive verbs. They are exemplified in 7a–7e below: 7a. I like making decisions at work. (nominal object) 7b. Farce likes to tinker with such taboos. (prepositional object) 7c. People like to feel that they’re doing something with their savings. (clausal object) 7d. I like watching him draw. (complex transitive) 7e. He liked to tell one that he was a dilettante. (ditransitive) The proportions of the particular types of transitive complement verbs in both constructions are presented in Figure 5 below: Figure 5: Types of transitive complement verbs

It is clearly noticeable that the transitive verbs combing with ‘like –ing’ are predominantly monotransitive verbs with nominal objects, while verbs with 281

prepositional and clausal objects are more frequently represented among the complements of ‘like to-infinitive’. Additionally, the ‘like to-infinitive’ construction combines with a number of complex transitive verbs and even a few ditransitive ones. It is the infinitival complement construction then that is significantly more likely to combine with transitive verbs and occurs with a greater variety of transitive patterns. This seems to prove that transitivity is a factor involved in the choice between the two complement types, and that there is a greater degree of compatibility between the infinitive complement and verbs with a higher degree of transitivity. The results of the correspondence analysis for the three factors related to the complement verb, aktionsart, semantic field and transitivity type, are presented below: Figure 6: The correspondence analysis of like –ing and like to-inf. Factors: aktionsart, semantic field and transitivity type of the complement verb

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The most noticeable result is that the cluster of features surrounding the ‘like –ing’ complement type, situated in the upper left-hand area of the graph, is dense to the point of being illegible. It is constituted by a number of interrelated features: the aktionsart of activity and accomplishment (so close that they actually overlap), verbs of action and motion, and finally intransitive verbs and monotransitive verbs with a nominal object. The tight clustering of these features on the graph signifies that they are closely correlated in actual usage and that the complement verbs of the ‘like –ing’ construction form a particularly uniform group in the examined sample. The most typical examples of the construction would thus be those presented in 8a and 8b below: 8a. I like going to parties. (motion verb, intransitive, accomplishment) 8b. I liked helping my father with the sheep. (action verb, activity, nominal object) For the ‘like to-infinitive’ construction, two clusters of features are visible in the right-hand area of the graph. Both of them are less dense than the ‘like –ing’ cluster, and situated to the right of the points marking both constructions (ING and TO-INF), though still markedly closer to TO-INF than to ING. This means that although they are less numerous in the data than the features making up the ‘like –ing’ cluster, they are highly characteristic for ‘like to-infinitive’, as they normally do not co-occur with the other construction. The first cluster, situated in the upper part of the graph, represents stative cognition verbs with a clausal object, and the second, situated directly below the TO-INF marker, connects perception and utterance verbs with achievements, i.e. events which are punctual and telic. The transitivity patterns that correlate with them are complex transitive verbs, ditransitive verbs and monotransitive verbs with prepositional objects. The combinations which are the most typical for the ‘like to-infinitive’ complement construction are exemplified in 9a-9c: 9a. And I like to think I’ve learned my lessons. (cognition, clausal object, state) 9b. They (…) liked to see his thin face suffuse with frustration. (complex transitive, perception, achievement) 9c. No one, Dexter reflected, likes to admit to an act of cowardice. (utterance, prepositional object, achievement)

Conclusions The results of the correspondence analysis clearly delineate the differences between the most characteristic examples ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’. They are briefly summarized in Table 1. below. The features with particularly high statistical significance have been highlighted in bold. 283

Table 1: The main differences in the usage of ‘like –ing’ and ‘like to-infinitive’ ‘Like –ing’ Less formal registers (spoken language and fiction) More definite subject (usually SAP) More likely in the negative

‘Like to-infinitive’ More formal registers (academic, news and magazines) Less definite subject (proper and common nouns)

Durative and atelic verbs Verbs of action and motion Intransitive verbs Monotransitive verbs with a nominal object

Stative and telic verbs Utterance, perception and cognition verbs Transitive verbs Complex transitive and ditransitive verbs Monotransitive verbs with prepositional and clausal objects

It must be borne in mind, however, that there is a considerable area of overlap between the two constructions. For all the distinctions discussed above, the feature which was the most characteristic for the ‘like –ing’ construction (activity, action verb, transitive structure with a nominal subject) is also the most numerous alternative for ‘like to-infinitive’, but its predominance is less clearly marked, allowing for a number of other possibilities. This supports Egan’s (2008: 162) observation that the difference between the two constructions “may not be relevant in all contexts of actual usage.” The results of the research justify treating the ‘like to-infinitive’ structure as the marked member of the pair, as the features characterized by the highest statistical significance are invariably connected with this complement type, rather than the unmarked, though fairly uniform, ‘like –ing’. The features of the toinfinitive complement that in individual testing for complement choice achieved p-values below 0.003 are the following: cognition and utterance verbs, clausal object, complex transitive pattern, and the lexical aspect of achievement and state. This proves that despite the considerable overlap between the two complement types, ‘like to-infinitive’ has a number of characteristic uses that it does not share with the more uniform ‘like –ing’ construction.

Tools and sources The British National Corpus, version 3 (BNC XML Edition). (2007). Distributed by Oxford University Computing Services on behalf of the BNC Consortium. R Development Core Team (2008). R: A language and environment for statistical computing. 284

R Foundation for Statistical Computing, Vienna, Austria. ISBN 3-900051-07-0, Retrieved October 21, 2013, from http://www.R-project.org. Jan Rybicki (2012), Correspondence_by_FactoMineR script, Retrieved October 21, 2013, from

References Aissen, J. (1999). Markedness and subject choice in optimality theory. Natural Language and Linguistic Theory, 17, 673–711. Croft, W. (2012). Verbs: Aspect and Causal Structure. Oxford: OUP. Dirven, R. (1989). A cognitive perspective on complementation. In Jaspers, D. et al., (Eds.), Sentential Complementation and the Lexicon: Studies in Honour of Wim de Geest (pp. 113–139). Dordrecht: Foris. Duffley, P. J. (2006). The English Gerund-participle. A Comparison with the Infinitive. New York: Peter Lang. Egan, Th. (2008). Non-finite Complementation. A Usage-based Study of Infinitive and –ing Clauses in English. Rodopi: Amsterdam – New York. Givon, T. (1993). English Grammar. A Function-based Introduction. Vol. 2. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Hamawand, Z. (2004). Determinants of complement clause variation in English. English Studies, 5, 451–464. Hopper, P.J. and S. A. Thompson. (1980). Transitivity in grammar and discourse. Language, 56, 251–299. Vendler, Z. (1967). Verbs and times. In Z. Vendler (Ed.), Linguistics in Philosophy (pp. 97–121). Ithaca: Cornell University Press Verspoor, M. (1996). The story of –ing: a subjective perspective. In M. Pütz & R. Dirven (Eds.), The Construal of Space in Language and Thought (pp. 417–454). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Verspoor, M. (1999). To infinitives. In L. de Stadler & Ch. Eyrich (Eds.), Issues in Cognitive Linguistics: 1993 Proceedings of the International Cognitive Linguistics Conference (pp. 505–526). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Verspoor, M. (2000). Iconicity in English complement constructions: conceptual distance and cognitive processing levels. In Horie, K. (Ed.), Complementation: Cognitive and Functional Perspectives (pp. 199–225). Amsterdam: John Benjamins.

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Beata Rycielska The University of Szczecin, Poland

What do the Russian prefixes вы-, из- and the preposition из have in common and what makes them different?1 Abstract The article presents semantically close categories of the Russian language: the prefixes из- and вы-, and the preposition из. Its objective is to determine the function of each of those categories as well as the circumstances of applying the complex structure of “вы-verb + из – genitive”, and the “из-verbs + из – genitive” construct. For that reason, a schematic notion of the event starting point, the patterns of its conceptualization, and the semantic constructs of the вы-verbs and the из-verbs, which easily attach the expression of “из – genitive” and those which lack such capacity, common for the prefixes из- and вы- and the preposition из, have been specified. The analysis is founded on the principles of the cognitive grammar of Ronald W. Langacker. Further, the article touches upon the basic equivalents of the вы-verbs and the из-verbs in the Polish language. Keywords prefix; preposition; cognitive grammar; schematic concepts; prototypical concept; profile; basis; principle of semantic correspondence; compound structure; interlinguistic comparison

Introduction The article addresses the title units of the grammar of the Russian language which pose difficulty not only for a person studying Russian as a second language, not being indifferent to the thought: „Я (…) восхищаюсь теми среди моих иностранных товарищей, кто видит разницу между „поменять“, „заменять“, „переменять“, „изменять“ и „сменять““ (Подшибякина & Скрипкина, 2010)

1 I wish to cordially express my gratitude to Professor Kamila Turewicz for the precious time devoted to reading the article and her valuable comments. Translated by Alina Szwajczuk and proofread by Olga T. Mołczanowa and Brian Walsh.

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but also for a native speaker of Russian as „Не каждый русский студент так глубоко владеет русским языком, чтобы проанализировать эти языковые явления“ (Подшибякина & Скрипкина, 2010). The above refers to the verbal prefixes вы- and из-, which are semantically close2. Further, the article also presents the preposition из being etymologically related to the prefix из-, but which creates complex structures both with some of the meanings of verbal derivatives formed with the из- morpheme, and derivatives formed with the morpheme вы-3. As the said units are semantically, and sometimes syntactically close, the article attempts, on the one hand, to explain the specific functions of each of those categories, and, on the other hand, to provide an answer to the question pertaining to the manner and scope in which verbal constructs with вы- and with из- possess the capacity to appear with a phrase containing the preposition из. For that purpose, and on the basis of network models of the provided categories, schematic and prototype concepts for each category have been established. Additionally, a general concept of the event starting point, common for all three units, has been determined, as well as distinct specification types of a given concept in the complex structures of “вы-verb + из – genitive” and “из-verb + из – genitive”. The applied principle of semantic correspondence of complex construction constituents allowed, first, for the clarification of typical circumstances of appearance or non-appearance of an expression including the из preposition with verbs containing the prefix вы- and verbs with the prefix из-, and second, for the determination of semantic structures of each prefix in terms of their lower or greater capacity to attach a preposition. The linguistic data indicate that despite the common etymology, in a verbal structure, the prefix из- shows much lower capacity to attach the preposition из than in the case of the semantically, not etymologically, bound prefix вы-. 2 This study does not include, inter alia, the basic description of network models of the linguistic categories within the view of the cognitive grammar of Ronald W. Langacker. Besides, the semantic structures of both verbal prefixes did not include any specific characteristics including groups of verbs and the functions of the participants of encoded events. Those aspects will constitute the focus of a separate article. 3 As early as in 1999, Elżbieta Tabakowska presented problems connected with the use of a prefix and a preposition sharing common etymology in a complex structure, as in the case of the prefix po- and the preposition po, describing relations between the two. See Tabakowska (1999). Referring to previous research into the Polish language within the said scope, the author states that: In traditional descriptions of the Polish language, those elements are viewed as belonging to two separate grammatical categories and their semantic similarity is not included in analyses in a systematic manner (Tabakowska, 1999, p. 270).

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1.╇ About the preposition из4 As a location-related unit5, the preposition из encodes the schematic concept of the event starting point. It should be emphasized that it is also included in the semantic bases of the prefixes из, вы-6 and it plays a significant role in the description of those categories. The word из has Proto-Slavic roots in the form of *jъz. Owing to the flexible position it originally occupied in a sentence, the literature defines it as functioning as an adverb7. With time, its position within a sentence was established: appearing with a noun and forming together a noun phrase, из started functioning as a preposition (из кружки ‘from a mug’, из школы ‘from school’, из любви ‘for/out of love’), while with a verb –as a prefix (ис-ходить страну ‘cross the whole country’, из-лечить больного ‘cure an ill person’, из-влечь осколок из раны ‘take a shrapnel out of the wound’). The semantic structures of the preposition из

4 Following the principles of the cognitive grammar of Langacker, a preposition is a part of speech embodying a relationship; it profiles an atemporal relationship, similarly to adjectives, adverbs, participles and infinitives. The relative expression is connected with some asymmetry in distinguishing between its participants. It depicts the participants of the relationship with different distinctiveness. Langacker formulates this distinction in the form of “trajector – landmark”. The trajector (TR) of the preposition из is a localized element, and the landmark (LM) – an element evoked for the purpose of locating the trajector (Аня достала яблоко (TR) из ящика (LM)). Based, among others, on Langacker (1995, Lecture I). 5 For the function of prepositions see Kempf (1978). This group may additionally include such units as “от”: “от-”, “с”: “с-”. The Polish language has lower than in Russian differentiation of location-related categories: the preposition “z” [‘with’] is characterized by less distinct semantic borders than its Russian equivalents “из” and “с”. Besides, the prefixes of both languages “вы-” and “wy-” do not possess parallel (even) prepositions, in contrast with the “из” : “из-”, “от” : “от-” pairs in Russian and “od” : “od-” in Polish. Apart from the location-related meaning encoded by prepositions, Zdzisław Kempf also distinguishes a place-static relation (at home, by/ next to, at brother’s), a target location relation (e.g. throw a stone into water) as well as the relations of motion (e.g. the bullet went through the wall). 6 In turn, “от” : “от-” reflect the motion directed from the entity’s border (отойти от дома ‘move from the house’), and “с” : “с-” denote moving away from something, usually in the top to bottom direction, outwards (спуститься с горы ‘descend from the mountain’) as well as removing something from some surface, or top (сбросить снег с крыши ‘throw snow off the roof ’, стереть пыль со стола ‘wipe the dust off the table’). 7 Originally, prepositions functioned as adverbs, see: Lachur (1999), among others.

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listed in the Dictionary of Russian of the 11th–17th centuries (Бархударов, 1979) and the Dictionary of Russian of the 18th century (Сорокин, 1984–1991) have survived till the present moment with only slight changes. This refers to the prepositions “из-за” and “из-под” which started to be used in place of the preposition из meaning ‘outside, behind the entity’ (из – из-за дерева ‘from behind a tree’) and ‘from under the bottom of the entity’ (из – из-под стола ‘from under the table’) respectively. The preposition из constitutes a part of the “из – genitive” structure. Semantic structures of the preposition из with a genitive form a complex network model possessing the basic meaning of the inside of the container that specifies the landmark from which the trajector’s action is directed outwards (Из дому отлучиться нельзя lit. ‘from house – cannot go’ = One may not leave the house, Самолёт вылетел из Москвы ‘The plane took off from Moscow’)8. This is a specification of the schematic representation of the event starting point for the preposition из category (and both prefixes). Further, the network model of the preposition distinguishes between the concept of moving away towards the outside of the entity or place (Молоко убежало из кастрюли, literary ‘Milk escaped from the pot’)9. It is significant both for the network model of the preposition из, as well as the prefixes из-, вы-, as it is included in the semantic bases of those categories. In the case of the preposition из, the concept of moving away towards the outside of the entity’s border is an extension of its prototypical meaning of the inside of the container from which an action is directed towards the outside of the entity (выйти из дому lit. go out from the house = ‘to leave the house’). When included in the network model of the prefix из-, it motivates the concept of the intensity of an action that is encoded in the prefix из- of numerous verbal structures (e.g. изъездить страну ‘to cross the whole country’, иззябнуть в дороге ‘to get chilled to the marrow on the way’ and others). The significance of the intensity being an expansion of the prototypical meaning of moving away

8 It should be emphasized that the use of the preposition из is not limited solely to из-verbs and вы-verbs, e.g. достать из кармана lit. take from pocket = ‘take out of a pocket’, освободить из заключения ‘free from prison’ etc. 9 Other meanings in the network model of a preposition, apart from the container’s inside and the concept of moving away towards the outside of the entity’s border, or place, also include adverbial meanings with, among others, the origin of the entity (ил из прудов), the cause of an action (плачет из страха), the target of the action (ездит из славы ‘for’), the manner of performing an action (помогать из последних сил), the action starting moment (из младенчества звыкли мы бояться) and others.

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from the inside of the container is also symbolized by the prefix вы- used with some verbs (e.g. вымокнуть до нитки ‘to get soaked to the skin’)10. The shared concepts of the event starting point and the motion from the inside of the container distinguished in the semantic bases of those units prove the vagueness of their conceptual borders, while the conceptualization of an intensive action additionally brings the two prefixes closer together.

2.╇The вы- prefix in verbal structures11 Creating a network model, the root meanings of the Russian prefix вы- had already been encoded in prefixal verbal structures listed in the Dictionary of Russian of the 11th–17th centuries (Бархударов, 1979). The schematic concept of the category is constituted by leaving the event starting point, the prototypical one – by moving away from the inside of the container. The general concept of the event starting point, also distinguished within the semantic scope of the preposition из, is specified in the meanings of more or less typical starting points. The more typical the starting point is, as the inside of the container, with the motivating verb referring to the concept of motion, the greater the possibility for the prefixal derivative to attach the prepositional structure of “из – genitive” (выйти из дому lit. go out from the house = ‘to leave the house’). In the case of a non-typical starting point, as for example leaving the state of performing an action (выдумать новое приспособление ‘to make a new device’), the prefix вы- with a verb does not attach a given expression signifying a location-related action (the event setting), but a landmark being specified by the object. Therefore, the concept of an event starting point as well as its typicality affect the possibility of the appearance of an expression including the preposition из with the verbal derivative containing the prefix вы-. Moreover, the conceptualization of an action in the domain of motion also exerts an unquestionable impact within the context of a potential lack of impact of verbs, the semantics of which does not include the domain of motion directed from the inside of the container. The appearance of a complex structure of “prefixal verb + prepositional phrase” is feasible due to the fulfillment of the principle of semantic correspondence of its constituents. In this case, the key element is their common concept of the event starting point. In literature, attempts have been 10 For semantic relations of the Russian preposition “у” and the prefix “у-” see also: Зализняк (2001). 11 The prefix вы- is a verbal morpheme; it does not form any other parts of speech (compare the prefix из- in the further part of the study).

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made to explain circumstances in which ‘even’ categories of the prefix из- and the preposition из appear together, and in which they do not. Czesław Lachur, among others, quotes the previously used various approaches which clarify this type of a linguistic context (Lachur, 1999, p. 72 and the following). Still, it is the cognitive grammar with its theory of a network model, and a complex structure with the semantic correspondence of its constituents that provides an explanation for the phenomenon.

The schematic concept of the event starting point It is neither uniform nor does it have any distinct borders. On the one hand, it is profiled by the prototypical concept of the inside of the container which the trajector leaves as a result of the action named by the prefixal verb, and on the other hand - being its metaphorical extension - by the concept of the state of a specified action and of leaving that state. Besides, semantically, it is extended by more or less typical concepts (described below). This appears to be the factor, i.e. the manner of conceptualizing and linguistic mapping of the event, which influences the possibility of attaching of the “из – genitive” nominal phrase by the compound verb. This means that the schematic concept of the event starting point specified by the inside of the container may be encoded by the complex structure of “prefixal verb + из – genitive”. Such structures are ablative in nature (Они выехали из города ‘They moved away from the city’, Она вылетела из Москвы ‘She flew from Moscow’, Черепаха выползла из коробки lit. Turtle crawled from container = ‘The turtle crawled out of the container’). In the case when this is not the event starting point that is profiled but the destination point, phrases with an adlative meaning such as, among others, the constructs of “в – accusative” (выйти в сад ‘go to the garden’), and “на – accusative” (выйти на улицу ‘go to the street’) are used instead of the structure with the preposition “из – genitive”. In this case, the concept of leaving the inside of the container is moved to the background, as the conceptualization of the event is focused on the destination point of the action of motion. Significant, however, is the fact that within the semantic scope of the prefix вы-, the concept of leaving the inside of the container is retained12. 12 A similar observation pertaining to the conceptual stability within the semantic scope of a subcategory of a linguistic unit in reference to the prefix “od-” can be found in Grzegorczykowa, Laskowski & Wróbel (1984, p. 480). It is emphasized therein that in adlative structures of odnieść do [refer to] + gen., odprowadzić do

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In turn, the concept of leaving the state of performing a given action (i.e. finishing the action), constituting a metaphorical extension of the event starting point, is encoded solely by a prefixal verb without the use of a prepositional expression (выпотрошить рыбу ‘to gut a fish’, cf an unused expression ?выпотрошить внутренности из рыбы; выполоскать белье ‘to thoroughly rinse the underwear’, cf an unused expression ?выполоскать порошок из белья; выстирать белье ‘to thoroughly wash the underwear’, cf an unused expression ?выстирать грязь из белья). In those examples, the motivating imperfective verbs profile the durability of the action, while the prefix вы-, forming perfective derivatives with those verbs, specifies the abstract leaving of the state of performing a given action. It is conceptualized on the basis of similarity with the process of leaving the inside of the container. In this case, the activities do not belong to the domain of a spatial motion directed from the inside of the entity. A more detailed description of distinguished ways of perceiving and symbolizing the schematic event starting point in a language shall be presented as: 1. The prototypical location-related concept of the inside of a schematic container: a room, a house, a town, a garden, etc. They are mostly reflected by structures with the preposition из which combine with intransitive prefixal verbs mainly within the meaning of moving away from the inside of the container (выехать из города ‘lit. move away from the town = ‘to leave the town’, (…) ужом выскользнул из купе (Шукшин) lit. like a snail slipped from a compartment = ‘slipped out of the compartment like a snail’; Выезжаем из ворот тюрьмы (Гинзбург) lit. we are leaving from the prison gate = ‘We are leaving the prison gate’). The motivating verbs encode motion while prefixes profile the action of leaving the inside of the container as a result of the trajector’s movement. They are much less frequently reflected by structures with transitive prefixal verbs and the preposition из within the meaning of the exhaustion of the action (выпить воду из стакана ‘to drink water from a glass’, вылить воду из чайника ‘lit. pour the whole water from a kettle = ‘to empty the kettle’) 2. The concept of an entity from the inside of which an object has been removed. This is a semantic extension of the schematic event starting point: in this case, this refers to the concept of an entity encoded by a prepositional phrase and the object of the action included therein. A prepositional structure is attached by transitive prefixal verbs appearing mainly within the meaning of [see off] + gen. type, the sense of leaving the starting point is also visible. See also the paper by Janowska (1999, p. 48).

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extracting, taking an entity out of somewhere (вытащить занозу у ребенка из пальца ‘to take a splinter out of the child’s finger’), less frequently within the meaning of removing the object from the inside of the container (выселить жильцов из квартиры13, выжить жильца из комнаты, выженить14 из дома, вытравить зайца из норы, выколотить пыль из ковра ‘to beat the dust out of a carpet’, выколотить пыль из одежды ‘lit. shake dust from clothes = ‘ to shake the dust out of the clothes’, выколотить пепел из трубки ‘lit. tap/shake ash from pipe = ‘to tap ash out of a pipe/shake ash out of a pipe’, выколотить гвоздь из доски ‘lit. knock nail from board = ‘to knock a nail out of a board’ and others) 3. The concept of a set of entities of which an element, a part, is designated. The set of entities may be encoded with the help of a phrase containing the preposition из in a structure formed with few verbs within the meaning of designating something (выделить скотину из табуна ‘designate the cattle from a herd’, Что посоветуете выбрать из смартфонов?). The meaning of distinguishing an entity as one of the many is also typical of the preposition из. Therefore, there exists a semantic correspondence between the prefix выand the preposition из. 4. The concept of the origin of the object of an action symbolized by a prefixal verb. This also constitutes a semantic extension of the schematic event starting point and it is reflected by a phrase with the preposition из. This constitutes a conceptualization of the material from which an object being the result of the action of the trajector originates. The verbs which attach a prepositional phrase representing the origin of the object of the action encode achieving the result of an action (выстрогать из полена мальчика ‘to carve a toy boy from a log’)

13 Compare also adlative structures encoding, with the use of the verb, a directed movement towards the event’s target: выселить жильцов на Север, в соседнюю область. 14 Выселить (или выжить) родителей с помощью женитьбы и прописки жены на жилплощади родителей (see: Кронгауз, 1998, p. 243). For example: „ — Ага, — сказал бурно Семен, — чтобы он нас выженил отсюда годов через пять! Чо я, не в курсе? — (Образованный Семен в минуты гнева прибегал к народной лексике своего детства.) — У Ляпиных вот так вот они прописали Сережку к бабушке, а Сережка, не будь дурак, объявил, что будет делать евроремонт, прыснул какойто химией, лак что ли на пол, и под это дело вывез бабку на трое суток к ее сестренке девяноста лет, да. И тут же продал эту квартиру и свалил за бугор с деньгами. Знаем”. See: Петрушевская, p. 7.

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5. The concept of leaving the state of performing an action upon achieving its border. This is the most abstract semantic extension of the concept of the event starting point. This conceptualization is not typically reflected by means of a phrase with из. The concept of leaving the state of performing a given action, relying on finishing an action, is most probably encoded solely by a verb with the prefix вы- without a prepositional structure. This function is performed by prefixal verbs, usually transitive ones, and, undoubtedly, much less frequently – by reflexive verbs. First, they direct the attention to leaving the process and finishing an action, second – to the object or the subject of the action, and not to the inside of the container, a set of entities or the entity’s inside from which a given object has been removed, as this is the case of a phrase with из. In the network model of the prefix вы- used with verbs, a given conceptualization is reflected by a number of its meanings, i.e.: –â•fi to perform an action carefully and precisely (вылизать тарелку lit. lick clean a plate = ‘to lick a plate clean’) –â•fi to exhaust an action, achieve the result, a required/natural border (вылечить больного ‘to cure an ill person’, вызубрить воинский устав ‘to learn military rules by heart’) –â•fi to spread an action to a number of places within the confines of the object(s) or the subject, on a given surface, and not in one place (выбегать весь город ‘lit. run whole town = ‘to run across the whole town’) –â•fi to destroy an entity as a result of an action (выщербить нож ‘to chip a knife’) –â•fi to use an entity up as a result of an action (выкурить весь табак ‘to smoke the whole tobacco (= totally)’) –â•fi reach the target, receive, find something (выиграть у него деньги ‘to win money from him’, выстоять телевизор ‘to stand the TV set (with a lot of effort)’) –â•fi to endure something within a given period of time (выстоять целую неделю ‘to stay the whole week’; Что угодно вытерплю, только не безделье… (Гинзбург) (‘I will bear everything but inactivity…’) –â•fi to perform the action to a required level and to be satisfied with that (выплакаться lit. cry oneself = ‘to cry one’s eyes’). The presented characteristics of the circumstances of use of a phrase with the preposition из determine which of the meanings of the prefix вы- used with verbs are characterized by a greater capacity to form structures with a given phrase. In particular, these are the representations the semantic scope of which includes the concept of the event starting point, conceptualized mostly as the 295

inside of the container, rarely as something that is included in the entity and is the object of the action, as the concept of a set of entities from which its element is singled out, or as the concept of an origin of the object of the action. It also shows that most of the concepts in the network model of the prefix вы- do not show distinct tendencies to create structures with a prepositional phrase. This refers to numerous concepts within the model which specify leaving the state of performing an action upon reaching its border. The semantic scope of verbal structures with вы- also includes the concept of the intensity of an action. A given domain of the manner of action is distinguished almost in each and every meaning of the network model of the prefix вы-, possibly apart from the meaning of moving away from the inside of the container (выехать из города ‘wyjechać z miasta ‘to move from the city’), which profiles the leaving of the inside of the container and the container’s border. The intensity stems from the concept of motion directed from the inner side of the container. The motion from the inside of the container to the outside is connected with crossing the border, and such an action may be perceived as crossing a certain norm, some excess or a bigger number of something. In turn, in the case of the prefix из-, the concept of the intensity plays a very significant role: it constitutes its schematic representation. For that reason, the prefixes вы- and из- might be described as lacking distinct borders; they are semantically close not only in terms of the event starting point, but also in terms of the concept of the intensity of an action.

3.╇ The prefix из- in verbal structures15 The prefix is derived from the Proto-Slavic language in which, similarly to the preposition из, the prefix assumed the form of *jьz-. Maks Vasmer writes about the prefix из-, claiming that in Old Church Slavonic it often corresponds with the originally Russian вы-: испи́ть ‘to take a small sip’: вы́пить ‘to drink’, изби́ть ‘to beat’: вы́бить ‘to break out’, израсти́ ‘to outgrow’: вы́расти ‘to grow out of ’ etc. (Фасмер, 1986, Vol. 2, pp. 119–120). The comparison of these pairs, however, presents differences which are introduced by each prefix. The schematic concept of the prefix из- constitutes the leaving of the event starting point, a prototypical concept – making the entity leave the inside of the 15 The prefix из- also forms other parts of speech: nouns (излет, изгой, изголовье, изгородь), adjectives (изначальный), adverbs (издали, издавна, издалека), prepositions (из-за), particles (исполать ‘хвала, слава’, for example: Исполать тебе, добрый молодец!).

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container. In the contemporary Russian, not all semantic structures of the prefix из- are productive and used, in contrast to the network model of the prefix вы-, the meanings of which are valid and productive. Some of the semantic structures in a network model of the prefix из- used in Old Russian and listed in the Dictionary of Russian of the 11th–17th centuries (Бархударов, 1979) have fallen into disuse. Though, not irretrievably: they have survived with an altered meaning, a changed form and grammatical structure. The semantic structures mentioned above, no longer valid in the network model of the prefix из-, refer, first, to the motion from the inside of the container, encoded nowadays by the prefix вы- (the concept of motion directed towards leaving the inside of the container: избежати из города ‘to run away from the town’, изыти из тела lit. get from body = ‘to get out of your body’, избрести ‘to surface, struggle’), and secondly, to intensive actions: temporary characteristics indicating long durability of an action (the concept of a large amount of time spent on performing an action: изблудити всю ночь ‘to wander the whole night’, исседети ‘to sit long’), as well as quantitative characteristics indicating being or possessing something in excess (the concept of being in excess, possessing something in excess избыватися ‘to be in excess’, избытковати ‘to possess in excess’). Among the three enumerated semantic structures, the structure with the preposition из was formed by prefixal verbs only in the context of the first meaning of moving from the inside of the container. The patterns of conceptualization of the event starting point do not completely correspond to the above presented types of conceptualization discussed in relation to the prefix вы-. Besides, the meanings of the prefix из- have much lower capacity to attach phrases with the preposition из than in the case of the prefix вы-. This was emphasized by Wiktor W. Winogradow already in 196016.

The schematic event starting point is mapped by: 1. A prototypical location-related concept of the inside of the container. This is reflected by the preposition из which may appear with several semantic structures of the prefix из- with a verb. This mainly refers, in Old Russian, to the conceptualization of motion directed at moving away from the inside of the container (избежати из города lit. run from town = ‘to run away from the town’). The preposition из may also appear with verbs denoting the removal 16 „Приставка вы- очень близка по своему значению к предлогу из: между приставкой вы- и предлогом из больше общего в значении, чем между приставкой из- и предлогом из“ (Виноградов, 1960, vol. I, p. 579).

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of an entity from the inside of the container (изгнать из страны – lit. expel from country = ‘drive sb out of the country’, исключить из состава ‘exclude from the composition’), pulling out, and extraction of an entity (извлечь осколок из раны lit. take shrapnel from wound = ‘to take a shrapnel out of a wound’) 2. The concept of the origin of the object of an action encoded by a prefixal verb. The extension of the starting point is symbolized by a structure with the preposition из which appears with several verbs with the prefix из- meaning reaching the target or the result of an action (иссечь статую из мрамора ‘carve a statue in marble’, вазу из камня ‘a vase in stone’) 3. The concept of leaving the state of performing an action upon reaching its border. Prototypically, they are encoded by prefixal verbs which do not attach a preposition, forming mostly structures with an accusative within the meaning of the object of an action. Besides, there appear intransitive verbs and reflexive verbs referring to the trajector. The concept is proper for most of the meanings in the network model of the prefix из-. They do not attach a phrase with the preposition из, as neither the inside of the container nor the origin of the object of the action is conceptualized as the event starting point. The event starting point perceived as a metaphorical escape from the state of performing an action is typically encoded solely by the prefix из- connected to motivating bases (similarly to the prefix вы-). This refers to the following semantic structures within the network model of the из- category: –â•fi meanings that are nowadays out of date but valid in Russian in the 11th–17th c.: spend a lot of time on performing an action encoded by the use of the “из-verb + accusative” structure (изблудити всю ночь ‘to wander the whole night’), also: to be in excess, to possess in excess symbolized by из intransitive verbs (избытковати) and из-reflexive verbs (избыватися) –â•fi a structure of an intensive performance of an action encoded by из-intransitive verb (иззябнутьcolloquially), a complex structure of “из-verb + accusative” (Суховеи иссушили почву ‘Dry winds dried up the soil’), a prefixal and postfixal derivative of из-verb-ся (Люди истосковались по честным выборам ‘People have greatly missed fair elections’) –â•fi a structure of the exhaustion of an action, achieving the result of the action symbolized by the из-intransitive verb (издохнуть ‘to die in pain’, иссякнуть ‘to exhaust’), the structure of “из-verb + accusative” (Он излечил мою болезнь ‘He cured my illness’) –â•fi a structure of expanding an action to a number of places encoded by “изverb + accusative” (Малыш изрисовал всю стену ‘The boy did some 298

–â•fi

–â•fi –â•fi

–â•fi

drawing all over the wall’), из-reflexive verb (Земля истрескалась от зноя ‘The ground cracked because of the scorching heat’) a structure of destroying the entity of the action encoded by “из-verb +accusative” (Щенок изгрыз ботинок ‘The puppy bit the whole shoe’, Мыши изгрызли деревянную ложку ‘The mice ate a wooden spoon’), an intransitive verb (истлити ‘to burn’), rarely by the из-reflexive verb (извервитися), a structure of using up the entity encoded by “из-verb + accusative” Тетя Маня огурцы солила и всю соль иссолила ‘Auntie Mania salted the cucumbers and used up the whole salt’) a structure of losing the entity, some feature, capacity, symbolized by the из-reflexive verb (Он изверился в своих силах ‘He lost faith in his own strength’). The concept is characterized by the trajector of an event, while, additionally, the postfix -ся strengthens the significance of greater intensity of an action a structure of gaining some feature encoded by the из-reflexive verb (Люди совсем озверели и исподличались ‘People have become totally animalized and wicked’). The concept, similarly to the previous one, also refers to a process feature of the trajector, while the high level of intensity of an action is emphasized by the postfix -ся.

The relation between the preposition из and an etymologically related prefix изappears to be complex. In verbal structures, the prefix из- symbolized prototypical meaning of motion directed from the inside of the container, valid in the 11th–17th and the 18th centuries. It then freely combined with a preposition, reflecting the speaker’s need to conceptualize the motion directed from the inside of the container. Nowadays, this role is performed by the prefix вы-. For example, the verbs изыти meaning ‘выйти’ (‘to go out’), исходити meaning ‘выходить, оставив пределы чего-либо’ ‘to go outside the borders of something’ (ис кельи не исходитъ lit. from cell not leave = ‘not to leave the cell’) have fallen into disuse. They have been replaced with verbs containing the prefix вы-, while the multidirectional verb исходити has remained, retaining its meaning of ‘make a round of everything’ (исходити землю ‘to go round all over the earth’) i.e. the meaning of extending the action to a number of places. Further, the preposition из can be combined with prefixal verbs which encode the extraction of an entity from somewhere and the removal of the entity. The analysis also shows that the preposition из does not appear with prefixal verbs which refer to the state of leaving the performance of the action upon 299

reaching its border. This concept is included in numerous semantic structures of the prefix из-. Currently, the conceptual bond of the prefix из- and the preposition из, borrowed from the Old Slavonic language, is weaker than the native Old Russian prefix вы-, which shows greater capacity to form structures with the preposition из. Bearing in mind the above deliberations concerning the question: “What are the similarities and the differences between the three linguistic categories: вы-, из- and из?”, one may say that all of them share the common concept of motion from the inside of the container. Though, this is mostly their typical schematic concept of the event starting point, included in each semantic structure of those categories. On the one hand, it is shared by the said categories but, on the other hand, it is slightly differently conceptualized in complex structures. Depending on the type of mapping of the starting point, verbs show higher or lower capacity to attach a structure with a preposition. In the case of the prefix вы-, the schematic concept of the event starting point is specified by the concept, being prototypical for вы-, of the inside of the container and the concept extended by other less typical meanings: –â•fi –â•fi –â•fi –â•fi

an entity from the inner space of which a given object is removed a set of entities from which an element is singled out the origin of the object of the action leaving the state of performing an action upon reaching its border.

It is only in the last example that the prefix вы- with a verb does not prototypically attach the preposition из. When a verb with the prefix вы- denotes the concept of leaving the inside of the container, then, for the purpose of encoding the place of the entity, it may easily form a complex structure with a prepositional phrase “вы-verb + из – genitive”. However, the less typical the conceptualization of the event starting point is, the lower the capacity of the prefixal verb to form the structure of “prefixal verb + из – genitive”. Within the conceptualization of an event, what becomes significant is solely the reflection of the object of the event as well as the abstract concept of leaving the state of action and finishing the action rather than leaving the inside of the container. In the case of the prefix из-, the schematic notion of the event starting point may be conceptualized as –â•fi the inside of the container –â•fi the origin of the object of the action encoded by a prefixal verb –â•fi leaving the state of performing an action upon reaching its border. 300

In the contemporary Russian, the concept of the inside of the container abandoned as a result of the trajector’s motion is unlikely to be encoded; though, in the Russian language of the 11th–17th c. it was natural and prototypical (избѣжати из города). Nowadays, this role is taken over by the prefix вы- which, without possessing a parallel preposition (?вы), willingly attaches, within the meaning of the inside of the container, a semantically corresponding phrase with the word из. The concept of the inside of the container is encoded by the preposition из, combining only with individual из-verbs which represent few meanings: get out, take out an entity; remove an entity. Verbs may form the structure of “из-verb + из – genitive” reflecting, in this way, the conceptualization of the event starting point. The origin of the object of the action, however, is symbolized by a prepositional phrase with the из-verbs denoting reaching the target, or the result of an action. Finally, the concept of leaving the state of performing an action is included in the meanings of из-verbs which reflect the conceptualization of the event that does not denote leaving the inside of the container or the origin of the object of the action, but which reflects the cessation of the action and leaving the state of the action. Further, it would be worth analyzing the phenomenon of the semantic closeness of both prefixes, which is indicated, apart from the schematic concept of the event starting point combining the analyzed prefixes and the preposition, by some structures that are common in the network models of both prefixes. In particular, these are: –â•fi to move away from the inside of the container (выехать из города ‘to move from the town, избѢжати из города (Бархударов, 1979, Vol. 6, p. 96) ‘to go out, run away from the town’) –â•fi to exhaust an action, achieve a result, a required or natural border (вылечить ‘to cure’, вызубрить ‘to learn by heart’, излечить ‘to cure’, испугать ‘to frighten’) –â•fi to extract, take something out of something (вытащить мешок ‘to take out a bag’, вынуть ‘to take out ’, извлечь осколок из раны ‘to extract, take out a shrapnel from a wound (with a lot of effort)’) –â•fi to reach the target, the result of the action (выпросить ‘to plead’, выиграть у него деньги ‘to win money from him’) –â•fi to extend the action to a number of places (выбегать весь город lit. run whole town = ‘to run across the whole town’, изрисовать всю стену ‘to scratch the whole wall’, изъездить страну ‘to go round, drive round, cross the whole country’) 301

–â•fi to remove something from somewhere/something (выкинуть бутылку ‘to throw a bottle away’, исключить из состава ‘to exclude from the composition’) –â•fi to destroy something (выщербить нож ‘to chip a knife’, изгрызть ботинок ‘to bite a shoe’) –â•fi to use something up (выкурить весь табак ‘to smoke the whole tobacco’, исписать все чернила ‘to use up the whole ink’). Still, two units of the same meaning would not be useful for a language user. The differences between the two categories are indicated by the specific вы-verbs and из-verbs. The difference between those semantic structures relies, among others, on the fact that the вы-verbs and из-verbs which encode identical concepts differ in the sphere of usage and often the frequency of appearance in communication. For example, выбегатьused locally город and избегатьcolloquially город differ in their adjunction to different varieties of Russian, while at the same time, both verbs are characterized by an exceptionally low frequency. Within this meaning, the stylistically unlimited verb обегать appears more frequently. It does not include the domain of the event starting point but it introduces the concept of an action performed around, round the whole entity. Besides, other results of the comparison of verbs motivating structures with the prefixes вы- and из- should be presented: –â•fi the basic verbs are shared but attaching each of the two prefixes introduces significant semantic differences. For example: выездить лошадь ‘приучить (лошадь) ходить в упряжи, под седлом’ encodes the concept of achieving the result of the action – изъездитьcolloquially всю страну ‘to go round, drive round, cross the whole country’, изъездитьcolloquially Москву вдоль и поперёк ‘to go round, drive round, travel the length and breadth of Moscow’ encode the concept of extending the action to a number of places, in various directions –â•fi possessing a common basic verb, the compound phrases differ completely or partially in terms of the units attached. For example, the verbs исполнить – выполнить are semantically close in specific structures: выполнить, исполнить обещание, команду, желание, просьбу, указание, требование, долг, клятву – ‘to keep a promise, to carry out an order, to grant one’s wish, to fulfill one’s request, recommendation, requirement, duty, curse’. 302

They do differ in others: сполнить песню, танец, концертный номер, роль, музыкальное и произведение – ‘to perform a song, a dance, a concert piece, a role, a piece of music’ исполнить обязанности руководителя – ‘to fulfil the manager’s duties’ выполнить план, программу, приказ, решение, обязательство – ‘to carry out a plan, a program, an order, a decision, an obligation’ выполнить работу, задание, поручение – ‘to perform work, a task, an order’ выполнить функцию, роль, назначение (see: Подшибякина & Скрипкина, 2010) – ‘to fulfil the function, to play a role, to fulfil the purpose’ –â•fi finally, the differences rely mainly on the fact that a given basic verb attaches only one of the two prefixes. For example, дырявить ‘to make a lot of holes’ attaches the prefix из- forming the structure of издырявить ‘wear holes’, and does not attach вы- (?выдырявить) despite the fact that the concept of extending the action is common for the network models of each of the prefixes. In this case, из- profiles the intensity of the process and is productive, while вы-, within the meaning of extending the action, combines only with few verbs as in this type of representation it is not productive. Other examples: исходили и изъездили город вдоль и поперек, but not ?выходили и выездили город вдоль и поперек. In the network models of the said prefixes, there are few meanings encoded solely by one of them: • by вы- verbs: –â•fi to perform an action till a required level and to be satisfied with the performed action: выплакаться ‘cry one’s eyes out’ –â•fi to leave the state of performing an arduous action lasting for some time: выжить ‘survive’, выстоять целую неделю ‘stand the whole week’ –â•fi to single out from something: высветить чьё-либо лицо ‘illuminate somebody’s face’ • by из- verbs: –â•fi to spend a lot of time performing an action: изблудити всю ночь –â•fi to be in excess, possess something in excess: избыватися, избытковати –â•fi to lose some feature, ability: извериться в людях ‘to lose faith in people’.

4.╇ Comparison with Polish In the aftermath of the interlingusitic comparison of the analyzed categories, some observations have been made: 303

–â•fi in the usage context of the “из – genitive” prepositional construct in Russian, in Polish – generally an equivalent in the form of the “z – genitive” phrase is used –â•fi the вы-verbs correspond mainly with wy-verbs: вымолить ‘wymodlić = ‘to prey’, выманить ‘wyciągnąć’ = ‘to take out’, wyłudzić = ‘to swindle’, выловить бревно из воды ‘wyłowić kłodę z wody’ = ‘to fish out a log from water’, вылизать тарелку ‘wylizać talerz’ = ‘to lick a plate clean’, вылечить ‘wyleczyć’ = ‘to cure’, выкрутитьcolloquially (вывинтить, вывернуть) лампочку ‘wykręcić żarówkę’ = ‘to unscrew a bulb’ –â•fi the из-verbs correspond mainly with wy-verbs and z-verbs: исхлестатьcolloquially ‘wysmagać’ = ‘to whip’, истребить насекомых ‘wytępić robactwo’ = ‘to destroy vermin’, исхлопотатьcolloquially решение ‘wystarać się o pozwolenie’ = ‘to arrange a permit (with a lot of effort)’, исчиркатьcolloquially коробок спичек ‘wypalić pudełko zapałek’ = ‘to burn a matchbox’, исхамитьсяused locally, vulgar ‘schamieć’ = ‘to become boorish’, истлеть ‘zbutwieć, spróchnieć’ = ‘to rot, decay’, истереть хрен ‘zetrzeć chrzan’ = ‘to grate horseradish’, избить ‘zbić’ = ‘to beat’ –â•fi the concept of the event starting point is reflected by the Polish prefix wy- and the preposition z. The use of various prefixes or other lexical and grammatical forms in Polish indicates different patterns of conceptualizing events which do not include the domain of the event starting point17. This mainly applies to the following prefixes: –â•fi u-: испестрить ‘upstrzyć’ = ‘to speck’, исчернитьcolloquially ‘uczernić’ = ‘to blacken’18, истолочь в порошок ‘utłuc na proszek’ = ‘to powder’19 –â•fi po-: исцарапать ‘podrapać = ‘to scratch all over’, исчертить ‘pokreślić = ‘to cover with lines, porysować = ‘to scratch’, исчеркатьcolloquially ‘pokreślić’ = ‘to cover with lines’, ‘poprzekreślać’ = ‘to cross through’, исщипатьcolloquially руку ‘poszczypać całą rękę’ = ‘to pinch the whole arm’20 –â•fi za-: исшаркатьcolloquially пол ‘zabrudzić lub zadeptać podłogę’ = ‘to make the floor dirty, to muddy the floor’, ‘zniszczyć chodzeniem’ = ‘to destroy with Russian also possesses synonymous prefixes of some of the meanings of the выverbs and the из-verbs, which reflect other ways of depicting an event. The issue is touched upon by Апресян (2004), Добрушина (2010), among others. 18 Meaning covering the surface of the entity with a substance in a number of places, see Przybylska, 2006, pp. 262–263. 19 Meaning decreasing the volume of the object by increasing the content, see Przybylska, 2006, pp. 242–244. 20 Meaning extending the action to a number of places on the surface of the entity. 17

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walking’, испачкать пол ‘zabrudzić podłogę’ = ‘to dirty the floor’, исследитьcolloquially пол ‘zadeptać podłogę, narobić śladów = ‘to muddy the floor, to leave traces on the floor’21 –â•fi prze-: испугать ‘przestraszyć’ = ‘to frighten’22 –â•fi the expression of: исхитриться colloqially ‘nabrać (nabyć) sprytu (chytrości)’ = ‘to become cunning’.

References Grzegorczykowa, R., Laskowski, & R., Wróbel, H. (Eds.). (1984). Gramatyka współczesnego języka polskiego. Morfologia. Warszawa: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe. Kempf, Z. (1978). Próba teorii przypadków. Opole: Ossolineum. Janowska, A. (1999). Funkcje przestrzenne przedrostków czasownikowych w polszczyźnie. Katowice: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu S̆laÍœskiego Lachur, Cz. (1999). Semantyka przestrzenna polskich przyimków prefigowanych na tle rosyjskim. Opole: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Opolskiego. Langacker, R.W. (1995). Wykłady z gramatyki kognitywnej I. Lublin: Wydawnictwo Uniwresytetu Marii Curie-Skłodowskiej. Przybylska, R. (2006). Schematy wyobrażeniowe a semantyka prefiksów czasownikowych do-, od-, prze-, roz-, u Kraków: Universitas. Tabakowska, E. (1999). „Pobłądzić po malowniczych zaułkach Starego Miasta”: semantyka polskiego przyimka po- i przedrostka po. In M. Brzezina & H. Kurek (Eds.), Collectanea Linguistica in Honorem Casimiri Polański. (pp. 269–279). Kraków. Księgarnia Akademicka. Апресян, Ю. Д. (2nd ed. rev. and enlarged, 2004). Новый объяснительный словарь синонимов русского языка. Москва, Вена: Языки славянской культуры/Венский славистический альманах. Бархударов, С.Г. (Ed.). (1979). Словарь русского языка XI–XVII веков (vol. 6). Москва. Retrieved August 2012–July 2013, from http://etymolog.ruslang.ru/ doc/xi-xvii_6.pdf. Виноградов, В.В. (1960). Грамматика русского языка (vol. I). Москва. Академия наук СССР.

21 22

Meaning intensification of the process, exhaustion of the action. Meaning involving the whole object in the process, see Przybylska, 2006, pp. 150–151.

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Добрушина, Е. Р. (2010). В защиту единой абстрактной семантики глагольных приставок. In Вестник. ПСТГУ, III: Филология, 4 (22), 99–102, Retrieved January 1, 2014, from http:// pstgu.ru/download/1294824128.dobrushina.pdf. Зализняк, А.А. (2001). Семантическая деривация в значении русской приставки У-. In М.А. Кронгауз (Ed.), Глагольные префиксы и префиксальные глаголы, Московский лингвистический журнал, Vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 69–85. Москва. РГГУ. Кронгауз, М.А. (1998). Приставки и глаголы в русском языке: Семантическая грамматика. Москва. Школа Языки русской культуры. Подшибякина, Н.А. & Скрипкина, Н.Ф. (2010). Семантика и презентация глагольных приставок в практике преподавания русского языка как иностранного. In Электронный научно-образовательный журнал ВГПУ „Грани познания”, 5 (10). Декабрь. Retrieved May 6, 2013, from http://www. grani.vspu.ru/files/publics/238_st.pdf. Сорокин, Ю. С. (Ed.). (1984–1991). Словарь русского языка XVIII века. АН СССР. Институт русского языка, Vol. 1– 6. Ленинград. Retrieved October, 2012 – July, 2013, from http://feb-web.ru/feb/sl18/slov-abc/0slov.htm. Фасмер, М. (1986). Этимологический словарь русского языка (vol. 2). Москва. Прогресс.

Sources of examples Mirowicz, A., Dulewiczowa, I., Grek-Pabisowa, I. & Maryniakowa, I. (2004). Wielki słownik rosyjsko-polski (8th ed., vol. I, II). Warszawa. Hessen, D., Stypuła, R. (7th ed., 2007). Wielki słownik polsko-rosyjski (vol. I, II). Warszawa. Wiedza Powszechna. Гинзбург, Е. Крутой маршрут. Retrieved August 12, 2012, from http://85.17.122.177/chapter.php/14744/52/Ginzburg_-_Krutoii_marshrut. html. Ожегов, С.И. (1990). 2nd ed. stereotypical. Словарь русского языка.. Москва. Петрушевская, Л. Хэппи-энд. In Мост Ватерлоо (сборник). Retrieved November 30, 2013, from http://litfile.net/web/176918/197000-198000. Словарь русского языка (МАС). Retrieved October, 2012–July, 2013, from http://feb-web.ru/feb/mas/mas-abc/0encyc.htm.

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Справочно-информационный портал ГРАМОТА.РУ – русский язык для всех. Retrieved January–August, 2013 from http://www.gramota.ru/. Шукшин, В. Печки-лавочки. Retrieved December 8, 2012, from http://m. tululu.org/bread_71424_1.xhtml. Translated by Alina Szwajczuk

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Olga Sokołowska University of Gdańsk, Poland

Metonymy and metaphor as merging categories. A study of linguistic expressions referring to the face Abstract Metaphor and metonymy, set apart and differentiated by Lakoff and Johnson (1980), have been demonstrated to often intertwine in actual utterances by Radden (2003). Nevertheless, it seems unresolved whether metaphor and metonymy are clearly distinguishable from each other as modes of thinking. Considering some linguistic expressions which give rise to serious difficulties concerning their qualification as instances of metonymy or metaphor it is possible to reach the conclusion that the two types of mental operations constitute fuzzy categories which appear to merge into each other. The linguistic data in question comprise expressions referring to the face. It appears that the conception of the face, which is an aspect of the Idealized Cognitive Model of a human being often used as a point of reference offering access to that ICM in metonymic relations, can in certain cases function as a source domain in metaphoric mappings targeted at another subpart of the human ICM – that of personality. The process of separation from the extensive ICM of a human, where the conception of personality plays the role of a lower-order domain, to the independent position seems to be gradual, as documented by a number of expressions in English and Polish. Keywords metaphor; metonymy; fuzziness; continuum; face expressions

1.╇Mental Wholes In defining the difference between metaphor and metonymy the crucial notion taken into consideration is that of an Idealized Cognitive Model, understood as a mental gestalt, a structured and organized whole comprising a number, often very large, of lower-order conceptions. Those conceptions, however, should by no means be understood as semantic primitives; on the contrary, they may themselves constitute complex, often abstract notions which can very well function independently of the higher-order conceptions in which they may also be recognized to participate. Therefore, it seems possible for the very same conception 309

to be referred to as part of a larger cognitive whole in a metonymic relation, or to act as one of the two cognitive domains involved in a metaphoric mapping.

2.╇The Theoretical Basis Lakoff and Johnson do not find it problematic to distinguish between metonymy and metaphor, recognizing them as two different kinds of mental processes; the former being a primarily referential device, the latter functioning as a cognitive tool that enhances or entirely enables understanding of various phenomena (compare 1980, p. 36). They also present the notion of experiential gestalts, that is, “multidimensional structured wholes” (1980, p. 81) which subsume a number of substructures. Such experiential gestalts, that is, conceptions determined by practical contact with and observation of facts and events, are eligible for the role of source domains in metaphoric mappings. A gestalt, then, lends its complex structure to a typically abstract and thus amorphous target domain organizing a number of its aspects (lower-order conceptions) into a coherent whole. The assumption of gestalt properties of thought is also put forward and developed by Lakoff in his fundamental work (1987, XIV and further). The idea of the multidimensionality of ICMs strongly resembles the theory of lexical meaning presented in a number of works (for example, 1987) by Langacker, who describes the semantic pole of a linguistic predication as a collection (matrix) of cognitive domains, which are nothing else but lower-order conceptions presupposed by and cognitively incorporated in higher-order conceptual wholes. He also points to the fact that those higher-order conceptions may themselves function as component cognitive domains in other semantic configurations, for example, finger is a cognitive domain within the domain of hand, but itself is a higher-order concept with regard to knuckle (1987, pp. 56–57). In view of the above assumptions, there seems to be nothing that should prevent a given conception from participating in both metonymic and metaphoric relations alternately. Moreover, they comply with the observation made by Radden (2003, p. 93) that “… it is often difficult to tell whether a given linguistic instance is metonymic or metaphoric,” and proposes the notion of metonymy based metaphors. This phenomenon is illustrated with the example Suddenly the pilot comes over the intercom, where the metonymy PERSON (PILOT) FOR VOICE (WHOLE FOR PART) and the metaphor SPEAKING (ACTION) IS MOVING ALONG A PATH (MOTION) work one upon the other. Another example of this kind, recognized by the present author and also involving a reference to the human ability to speak, is Welsh nationalists want a louder voice in Europe, in which the metonymy VOICE FOR PEOPLE (PART FOR WHOLE) supports the metaphors BEING RESPECTED IS BEING LISTENED TO and MORE 310

INFLUENCE IS HIGHER VOLUME. In studying such instances, however, metaphor and metonymy are still recognized as clearly distinct modes of thinking, as assumed by Lakoff and Johnson (1980). Also Croft and Cruse (2005, pp. 217–219) pay attention to the close interdependence of the two discussed conceptual strategies and provide such examples of metonymy-based metaphors as ANGER IS HEAT or MORE IS UP. Claiming that they constitute extensions of metonymic relations in which heat literally represents anger (due to a physiological reaction) and height literally represents a larger amount of things, they confirm Radden’s idea of a metonymicity-metaphoricity continuum. Croft and Cruse also quote, after Goossens (1990), cases classified as instances of metaphtonymy, such as, for example, to catch someone’s ear, whose ascription to either category is a matter of construal. Thus, the ear metonymically represents listening, that is, attention, which, in turn, is metaphorically construed as an object (that can be caught). Therefore, the metaphtonymy examples do not seem to be principally different from Radden’s metonymy based metaphors. However, it seems worthwhile to observe, at this point, that the metonymy-asa-base and metaphor-upon-it arrangement is not always as obvious as in the provided examples. In some cases, it is possible to recognize a metonymic relation (that is, one concept representing another, contained within the same ICM) which seems to be settled upon a metaphoric construal, a conception structured in terms of another, independent one, as happens in certain animal metaphors of the A PERSON IS AN ANIMAL type, instantiated by some established idioms. In such cases, as it seems, it is possible to talk about metaphor-based metonymies, some examples of which may be: to poke one’s nose into another’s business (the NOSE FOR DOG metonymy based on the metaphor A PERSON IS A DOG), to bury one’s head in the sand (the HEAD FOR OSTRICH metonymy based on the metaphor A PERSON IS AN OSTRICH), to lock horns with someone (the HORNS FOR DEER metonymy based on the metaphor A PERSON IS A DEER). A case of a metonymy built upon a metaphor seems to be observable also in the expression to have a finger in every pie (the FINGER FOR PERSON metonymy based on the metaphors INVOLVEMENT IS TOUCHING and AN AFFAIR IS A PIE). The first three expressions appear to extend from construals where the referred-to part of body represents particular animals behaving as specified in the Idealized Cognitive Models of, respectively, dogs, ostriches, and deer, which, in turn, are metaphoric people. Thus, a specific human behaviour, such as: being too inquisitive, coming into conflict, avoidance of facing a problem, is construed in terms of a typical or alleged behaviour of an animal, which engages the activity of a relevant body part. In the fourth example the referred-to part of body (finger) is representative of an actual person, but its activity is metaphoric: participating in an event is understood in terms of inserting a digit into a sample of food. 311

The following discussion concerns the issue whether thinking metonymically, that is, pairing two conceptions within a single mental gestalt, and thinking metaphorically, that is, pairing two conceptions otherwise alien to each other are indeed clearly distinct mental processes. Especially, it is worthwhile to consider whether it could be proposed that the passage from metonymy, which seems to be psychologically simpler, to metaphor is gradual and the difference depends on mental detaching, little by little, one specific conception from the gravitational field of another. Consequently, it may be hypothesized that the metonymic mode of thinking, which is not unlikely to be attainable by animal minds (for example, a smell or noise representing a prospective prey, the intensity of plumage colour representing the health condition of a bird specimen, and so forth), turns into more intellectually advanced metaphoric mode, which, as recognized by Lakoff and Johnson, characterizes the cognition of humans. It should be noted, moreover, that there are simpler as well as more psychologically intricate metaphors, the former applying to concrete target domains, like A MOUNTAIN IS A PERSON (the foot of a mountain), A CLOCK IS A PERSON (the face of a clock); the latter structuring abstract, sometimes very elusive phenomena, for example, ARGUMENT IS WAR (opponents in a discussion), BEAUTY IS A FLOWER (budding/withering beauty). Apparently, there are foundations to claim that metonymy and metaphor not only interplay and intertwine in concrete situations, but they also merge into each other as categories, that is, there can be observed a continuum in the modes of thinking: from cases in which a specific conception plays the role of a subordinated domain in a larger semantic structure with a potential to metonymically represent the whole of it or its part, to those of the same conception functioning independently in a metaphoric mapping. Such a role shift is most probably not accomplished consciously by a conceptualizer, who simply makes use of an available notion to best suit certain current cognitive and/or communicative needs. The indecisiveness of the metonymic/metaphoric character of certain construals in terms of their categorization is also discussed by Croft and Cruse (2005: 220–221), who raise the subject of the indeterminacy between metonymy and metaphor as modes of thinking. Such instances as, The car drew up in front of the shop; Britain declares war on Iraq may represent metonymies of the CONTROLLED FOR CONTROLLER and PLACE FOR PEOPLE types, respectively, as well as animalization and personification metaphors.

3.╇The Face in Metonymic and Metaphoric expressions It appears that a closer look at a number of expressions which involve a reference to the notion of the face can support the idea, put forward by Radden, “… of a 312

metonymy-metaphor continuum with unclear and fuzzy cases in between”, and testify in favour of his claim that “…metonymy and metaphor may be seen as prototypical categories at the endpoints of this continuum” (2003, p. 93). The simple, prototypical cases of the FACE FOR PERSON metonymy have been discussed by Lakoff and Johnson (1980, p. 37), and there is no doubt that the relationship occurs within the single ICM of the human body, as in, for example, to be just a pretty face; to meet someone face to face; to show one’s face somewhere. Linguistic evidence for a reversed metonymic relation, PERSON FOR FACE, can also be found in numerous examples, such as: The girl blushed; The man scowled; a freckled child. It can be concluded that the conception of the face commonly participates in metonymies referring to the physical aspect of a human being. However, there are numerous instances of using the conception of the face – whether real of metaphoric – to represent personified phenomena, such as countries, political systems, economic organizations. It is, thus, quite common for real faces of real people to function in such metonymic relations, as, for example, the beautiful face of the regime, a phrase once used to refer to the attractive East German figure skater, Katarina Witt. In this example the face representing the oppressive state where drastic, totalitarian methods of, among other things, training sportsmen were practiced, was understood quite literally. This case is in a way similar to those in which celebrities appear in advertising campaigns of various companies, thus becoming their “faces”, for example, Lea Michelle is the new face of L’Oreal Paris, or Justyna Kowalczyk została twarzą Polbanku ‘Justyna Kowalczyk has become the face of Polbank’. Moreover, there are numerous examples of using the conception of the metaphoric, not real face as a representative of a metaphoric person, which, like the ones discussed above, may be interpreted as instances of metaphor based metonymies. Some instantiations of such construals are: the idiom on the face of it, used to refer to the appearances of some situations, socialism with a human face, a phrase describing Alexander Dubček’s 1968 Czechoslovakia, in which some liberal policies then introduced represent, as a face, the personified political system. Another example is the slogan the new face of dentistry used to advertise a clinic offering services implementing the latest inventions in the field of dental care. Dentistry as a field of professional activity is personified, which, again, constitutes grounds for a metaphor based metonymy. The question that may arise considering such cases is whether the difference between thinking of the face as a mere representation of something and using it to structure another conception is at all clear. The linguistic expressions discussed above seem to provide support to the claim that metonymy and metaphor, as modes of thinking, are not clearly 313

distinct from each other and particular language examples can occupy positions on the continuum extending from prototypical cases of metonymy to prototypical cases of metaphor. A further study of language samples involving a reference to the face seems to testify in its favour. The following examples appear to be metonymic in nature but the reference to the face which they involve is not a simple trigger activating the entire conception of a human being in the physical or metaphoric sense. It seems that the notion of the face quite often occurs in metonymies of the PART FOR PART type, which completes the PART FOR WHOLE and WHOLE FOR PART set, as recognized by Kövecses and Radden (1998) with regard to relations on the conceptual level between a metonymic vehicle and a metonymic target. The PART FOR PART type of metonymy can be exemplified by a number of instances, such as, among others: • • • • • •

EMOTION FOR CAUSE OF EMOTION: She is my hope AUTHOR FOR WORK: They play a lot of Shakespeare PRODUCER FOR PRODUCT: He owns a Stradivarius CONTROLLED FOR CONTROLLER: The bus hooted POSSESSOR FOR POSSESSED: He married big money CONTAINER FOR CONTAINED: He ate a big bowl of soup

The ICM within which such relations can also very likely occur is that of a human being. Needless to say, this conception appears to be an extremely extensive and complex one, and to involve a very large, practically uncountable number of lower-order cognitive domains. A very rough and by all means incomplete approximation at specifying it should, as it seems, involve the following notions: physical shape (parts of body, such as face, arms, legs, and so forth), life stages, personality (intellect, emotionality, psychological traits: sense of humour, sullenness, courageousness, timidity, and so forth), social position and role, typical modes of behaviour, sensuality, human rights: freedom, need of respect, and so forth. Some examples of metonymic relations established within the “human” ICM can be: • PART OF BODY FOR EMOTION: She has a kind heart (compassion); Her heart pounded when she saw him (love); His bowels turned at the sight (disgust) • SPECIFIC BEHAVIOUR FOR EMOTION: She was biting her fingernails (nervousness); He shifted his weight from one foot to the other (impatience); She wept (sadness) • PART OF BODY/ORGAN FOR ABILITY: We have a number of strong heads at our department (intellectual powers); She has very good eyes (eyesight)

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• PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTIC FOR AGE: grey(ing) hair; a wrinkled face (ageing); rosy cheeks (youthfulness) • PART OF BODY FOR PERSONALITY TYPE: egghead; mięśniak (lit. ‘muscle man’) in Polish slang referring to an athletic but not very bright young male. There are linguistic expressions indicating that also the conception of the face can be mentioned as a representative of other aspects (parts) of the human ICM. The following phrases, like the previously provided ones, seem to result from subparts of the discussed model entering into metonymic relations: a two-faced individual; to have the face to do something; to save/lose face, or the Polish pokazać swoją prawdziwą twarz ‘show oneself in one’s true colours’, lit. ‘show one’s true face’. These linguistic data indicate that the conception of the face is not used to refer to the physical figure of a human, but, rather, to another aspect of the ICM, evidently connected with personality (character), specific behaviour, self-respect, honour, and so forth. It is also possible to find descriptions of the new faces of people who first displayed specific personality traits but later their expression changed, exposing other aspects of their individualities. An example can be the transformation observed in the sportsman Adam Małysz, once a shy and modest ski jumper apparently embarrassed by popularity (old face), now an outspoken, relaxed, sure of himself rally driver, definitely at ease in front of cameras (new face). Although the above-quoted examples appear to be cases of metonymy of the FACE FOR AN ASPECT OF PERSONALITY type, they raise doubts with regard to the mode of thinking which they represent. They seem to be borderline cases between metonymy and metaphor and the question that can be posed concerns the issue whether they are still metonymies or already quasi-metaphors. This means that it is unclear whether the conception of personality in the construals determining the presented expressions is still a lower-order domain in the human ICM – then the face would represent it metonymically, or whether it already is an independent target notion structured in terms of a face. Such a PERSONALITY ASPECT IS A FACE metaphor, could, as it seems, result from the recognition of certain similarities between the two notions involved in it: both a face and a personality can expose certain characteristic traits.

3.1╇ The Face as a Source Domain Undoubtedly, the conception of the face can be and is used as a source domain in metaphoric mappings, as indicated by expressions like to save/lose face; That decision was the slap in my face, which seem to instantiate the HUMAN DIGNITY IS FACE metaphor. The conception of the face is also used to structure 315

an important notion in linguistic pragmatics. It is, therefore, the source domain in the metaphor referring to the pragmatic ICM of linguistic communication, which subsumes the notions of the positive and negative faces of discourse participants which they have to attend to formulating their contributions. The following table roughly illustrates the idea: Table 1: The positive and negative aspects of face POSITIVE FACE

NEGATIVE FACE

The sense of self-value

The sense of independence

The desire of respect for oneself, one’s beliefs, ideas, religion, national and social identity, achievements, family, friends, possessions, and so forth

The desire of respect for one’s right to freedom, freedom of choice, self-determination. The drive to avoid trouble and harassment, and the need to be left alone, and so forth

As can be observed, the public self-image that both the speaker and the hearer must regard in conversations, a set of assumptions concerning both participants’ sense of comfort, well-being, respect, and so forth, are construed in terms of the speaker’s and the hearer’s face, which, like a real one, has two profiles (compare Allan, 1986, p. 10). Thus, the conception of the face clearly serves as a source domain mapped onto the conception of human dignity participating in the linguistic communication ICM. It should also be recalled at this point that the instances of construals in which it is the personification of some abstract phenomenon that seems to constitute a basis for a metonymy, instantiated in such expressions as on the face of it, socialism with a human face, the new face of dentistry, also involve making use of the discussed concept as a source domain for metaphorically structuring abstract notions, such as appearances or certain aspects of phenomena understood, as already mentioned, in terms of persons. It appears, thus, that the conception of the face is commonly utilized and easily shifted around to perform the roles of now a metonym representing the entire human real or metaphoric ICM, then a source domain structuring one of its important elements. Especially intriguing are the instances of associating it with personality aspects, in the case of which it seems to be unclear whether such relations should still be described in terms of the FACE FOR PERSONALITY ASPECT metonymy, or already the PERSONALITY ASPECT IS FACE metaphor. The question that arises in view of studying the above quoted actual linguistic expressions is the following: When precisely do two conceptions participating in 316

one ICM and possibly entering into a metonymic relation become independent of each other, and, thus, eligible for a mutual metaphoric mapping? This issue seems to be worthy of considering, since, as observed by Langacker (1987), most cognitive domains accumulated within human minds and constituting a cognitive basis for language symbols are of complex nature and may subsume whole, extensive matrices of other conceptions. There seems to be no reason why a certain notion conventionally participating in a higher-order cognitive model should not become “emancipated” and begin to function independently of its former “host” as a target in a metaphoric mapping, as seems to be the case with the domain of human personality. The instance of the conception of the face associated with an individuality aspect appears to be eligible for the participation in both kinds of relations presently discussed.

4.╇Conclusions In conclusion it should be observed that the question whether metonymic thinking is clearly distinguishable from metaphoric thinking cannot be answered unequivocally. The metonymic or metaphoric status of some of the above discussed expressions seems to be a matter of controversy. It appears, then, that both metonymy and metaphor can be considered to be two cognitive strategies not independent and clearly distinct from each other. Not only do they intertwine and cooperate in numerous construals reflected by linguistic expressions, but they involve two kinds of mental operations (representation and mapping) which, though possible to clearly distinguish in selected, prototypical cases, in practice seem to smoothly evolve into each other without a clear demarcation line between them. Therefore, the notion of a continuum appears to be, as proposed by Radden (2003), very helpful to explain a number of actual examples of figurative expressions which evade easy classification. Apart from illustrating the construals in which metonymy and metaphor work hand-in-hand, it also captures the affinity of both modes of thinking as categories of cognitive strategies applied by the human mind in construing the cognitive input. Such construals are expressed through language and a study of examples of expressions involving references to the notion of the face seems to indicate that the two recognized by Lakoff and Johnson (1980) cognitive strategies applied by the human mind (metonymy and metaphor) are interdependent and bear family resemblance with regard to each other. All in all, metonymy and metaphor appear to be fuzzy categories of cognitive strategies that smoothly merge into each other, and to involve mental operations that are not sharply distinct from each other. 317

References Allan, K. (1986). Linguistic Meaning. Vol. 1. London and New York: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Croft, W. & Cruse, D. A. (2005). Cognitive Linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kövesces, Z., & Radden G. (1998). Metonymy: Developing a cognitive linguistic view. Cognitive Linguistics, 9–1, 37–77. Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fire and Dangerous Things. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, G., & Johnson M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press. Langacker, R.W. (1987). Nouns and Verbs. Language 63, 53–94. Radden, G. (2003). How metonymic are metaphors? In A. Barcelona (Ed.). Metaphor and Metonymy at the Crossroads. A Cognitive Perspective (pp. 93–108), Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter.

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Elżbieta Tabakowska Jagiellonian University Kraków, Poland

Iconicity and (cognitive) grammar: where shall the twain meet? Motto: Danish doctors and psychologists criticize the system of marking pedestrian zebra crossings. They maintain that the direction of the stripes should be changed because drivers automatically consider everything lying across the road as a barrier. (A wall calendar note, Nov.27, 2012; my translation)

Introduction This paper was inspired by the ninth International Symposium on Iconicity in Language and Literature, held in Tokyo in May 2013. Participants came from all parts of the world, and they presented an impressive number of 54 papers. Out of that total, it was only six presentations that referred – directly or indirectly – to grammar; and out of those, only three used as their theoretical framework the Langackerian brand of Cognitive Grammar. The conclusion seems obvious: iconicity scholars do not love (cognitive) grammar. Therefore, I examined three standard works on CL, checking whether cognitive grammarians and linguists like iconicity. Canonical texts by William Croft and D. Alan Cruse (2004), Vyvyan Evans and Melanie Green ( 2006) and Ronald Langacker (2008) mention iconicity twice each, which is not an impressive result. Thus the question arises whether the twain should meet, and could it be for mutual benefit.

1.╇ Iconicity revisited The relation between form and meaning has occupied philosophers and linguists for at least two and a half millennia. In the 5th century BC Socrates’s Cratylus claimed that “the best possible way to speak consists in using names all (or most) of which are like the things they name” (Plato, 436 c; 1997, p. 151); and that “he who knows a thing’s name also knows the thing” (Plato, 436 d,; 1997, p. 151). In modern scholarship, the claim takes shape of the slogan that grasps the very essence of iconicity: “form miming meaning”. 319

In modern scholarship, views on iconicity have been evolving. The idea of sound symbolism, propagated by advocates of semantic motivation influencing phonetic shape of natural language expressions, in mainstream theoretical frameworks of the 20th century linguistics was in general ”oohed and aahed or dismissed as epiphenomenal” (Haiman, 2008, p. 40). In mid-20th century, the movement known as “the first cognitive revolution”, proclaimed by Noam Chomsky and carried on by his followers, did not refer to iconicity openly, even though in Chomsky’s theory the structure of language was claimed to reflect the structure of thought. “The second cognitive revolution”, which originated in late 1970s with Ronald Langacker’s model of Cognitive Grammar, was more explicit: proclaiming the idea of experientialist realism, fundamental for his theory, Langacker recognized the role of iconicity in the development and structure of language by stating that the structure of thought reflects the structure of reality as conceptualized by the human mind.

1.1╇Similarity Irrespective of theoretical frameworks, linguists and philosophers of language agree that the underlying property of iconic signs is similarity. It might be interesting to recall that on Anna Wierzbicka’s list of semantic primitives the item SIMILARITY, translated into mentalese as “like (how, as)”, has figured ever since the list was first compiled (Wierzbicka 2004). At this juncture, however, the question arises as to what exactly the similarity refers? And what exactly is an iconic sign the sign of? In formal logic, these questions are relatively easy to answer: the relation of similarity is equivalent, that is, symmetrical (A ~B implies B ~A), reflexive (A ~A) and transitive (A ~B and B ~C implies A ~C). However, the pragmatics of similarity is different. Since in order to exist similarity must be recognized as such, several pertinent questions arise: –â•fi if A seems similar to B, who is it that estimates the similarity? –â•fi if A seems similar to B, from the point of view of X, in what respect(s) is it deemed (by X) to be similar? –â•fi if A seems similar to B, from the point of view of X and in respect of feature(s) Z…, to what extent is it considered (by X) as similar? –â•fi if A is considered by X as being similar to B in respect of feature(s) Z…, and to the extent Y, why is the comparison being made? The questions reflect the basic opposition between naïve realism, whereby thoughts reflect reality, and conceptual creativity, whereby the phenomenological Hegelian observing reason creates its own conceptualization of reality. Again, 320

several pertinent questions arise. First, can any thing become an iconic sign of any other thing? Second, is iconicity culture-sensitive? And, third, does a linguistic sign create or re-create similarity? It is these questions that involve initial conditions of the existence and functioning of iconic signs. Most crucially, in order for a thing to become a sign of something, there must exist a convention sanctioning the relation. Moreover, features of things that have been selected as the basis of similarity cannot pertain to very general, or schematic, categories, since on a very schematic level everything can be considered as similar to everything else. The second question brings in the need to distinguish between iconic signs on the one hand and symbols on the other. Unlike iconic signs, symbols, which reveal both the principle of arbitrariness and the principle of conventionality, have been traditionally acknowledged by linguistic theories and models of grammars. As such, they have always been the object of interest for the scholars.

1.2╇Taxonomies For the purposes of description and analysis iconic signs are taxonomized, with the number of differing taxonomies reflecting the varied nature of the phenomenon. The basic dichotomous taxonomy includes two categories: imagic iconicity and diagrammatic iconicity. The former, also known as “primary”, is the direct word-object relation postulated by Plato’s Cratylus: a one-to-one correspondence between “the name” and “the thing”, whereby signs are isomorphic to their designates. The latter - often called “secondary”, involves a more abstract correspondence between a structural pattern (e.g. phonological, morphological or syntactic schema) and its meaning. Imagic iconicity accounts for onomatopoeia and sound symbolism, and has never gained much attention – or respect – from followers of classical structuralism or generativism. In contemporary linguistic theories – notably in various brands of linguistic Cognitivism – it is discussed mainly in relation to sign languages (cf. e.g. Meir et al., 2013) or speech accompanying gestures (cf. e.g. Antas 2013). Conversely, diagrammatic iconicity has been given more credit as a reflection of more complex relationships between form and meaning. In grammar, it appears either as an isomorphic relation (akin to imagic iconicity), whereby the sign corresponds directly to the meaning (i.e. there is a one-to-one correspondence between the signifié and the signifiant), or is the effect of motivation, making “the structure of language directly [reflect] some aspect of the structure of reality” (Haiman, 1980, p. 515 – my emphasis). 321

1.3╇Principles Research on manifestations of iconicity in language led to a generally accepted list of principles that underlie such manifestations: quantity, proximity and sequentiality. The principle of quantity, expressed simply as “the more form, the more content”, reflects the tendency to maintain direct proportion between the amount of form and the amount of meaning that the form is intended to express. The principle of proximity is the modern version of what is known as “the first law of Otto Behagel”; it says that things which are close in the mind become close in linguistic expressions. Finally, the principle of sequentiality is defined as the assumption (made by language users) that “the linear ordering of events in the text in fact corresponds to their temporal sequence in the world described” (Enkvist, 1990, pp. 172 – my emphasis). But is the “world described” of Enkvist identical to Haiman’s “reality”?

2.╇Seeing, knowing and saying Rejection of the traditional assumption whereby linguistic expressions imitate the world “as is” rather than “what it seems to be to an observing reason” provokes the question succinctly formulated by Umberto Eco: are features considered as common to signs and objects established via seeing or knowing? Do we recognize things as “similar” because we perceive them as such or because we have some previous knowledge about them? Does what we say mirror what we see or what we know? (Eco, 2000, p. 132). Indeed, iconic signs do not reveal properties of a given object but mirror some selected elements of either perception or conception (cf. Eco, 2000, p. 127). There is the common (universal?) conceptual metaphor TO KNOW IS TO SEE. It reflects at least two things. First, “’to see’ is a rhetorical figure, [which] stands for any other tactile, thermic, or auditory response”. Second, “our concepts serve to unify the manifold of sense impressions” (Eco, 2000, pp. 60–61). The shift from perception to conception is difficult to grasp, the fact acknowledged by Leonard Talmy’s theory of –ception as an umbrella notion, expressing the unification of per- and con-ception (cf. Talmy, 1996). In his early paper ion iconicity John Haiman quotes the American linguist and anthropologists Joseph Greenberg, who defined iconic expressions as such in which “the order of elements in language parallels that in physical experience or the order of knowledge” (Greenberg, 1966, p. 103; after Haiman, 1980, p. 528, my emphasis). It is the latter that is the core of diagrammatic iconicity, which “reflects a highly developed form of human cognition” (Ohori, 2013), with 322

relations between signs mirroring relations between designates in what may be labeled virtual reality.

3.╇Iconicity in grammar As was said above, in grammar iconicity manifests itself as either isomorphism of form and meaning (mostly imagic iconicity), or as motivated parallelism between linguistic and conceptual structures (diagrammatic iconicity). The two mechanisms merge, with taxonomic distinctions facilitating scholarly descriptions rather than reflecting the actual state of affairs. The three principles operate together, albeit in differing proportions, which again makes them a convenient research tool rather than full reflection of real processes and phenomena.

3.1╇Quantity The principle of quantity underlies what comes closest to isomorphic, or imagic, iconicity. Apart from onomatopoeias and sound symbolism, perhaps most obvious manifestations involve phonologically non-contrastive lengthening of vowels and sibilants, as in Polish straszszsznie dłuuugo or English huuuge discount. In his Cognitive Grammar parlance, Langacker says this, claiming that phonological prominence mirrors semantic prominence (2008, passim). Conversely, the same principle is seen to govern vowel weakening in the so-called English “weak forms”: (1) Give her the book vs. Give the book to her, or in the use of unstressed anaphoric pronouns in Polish: (2) Mickiewicz urodził się w Nowogródku. Był on poetą romantycznym… In both instances, iconicity is motivated: the structure in which the English and the Polish pronouns appear in the “weak” clitic-like postposition mirror the concept of “less work” to be done by the two forms (i.e. reference to already identified referents): less semantic relevance requires less phonetic substance. Another much discussed case is the morphology of nouns, where plural forms have a tendency to include more phonological material than their singular counterparts, a regularity commented on a long time ago by Roman Jakobson, who claimed that morphological complexity mirrors the complexity of concepts, pointing to comparative and superlative degrees of adjectives (1971). As noticed almost half a century later by Langacker, in English the “iconic zero” which functions as an indefinite article with mass nouns implies no restriction on “how 323

large or small an instance can be” and thus is a case of “no marker, no restriction” iconic relationship (Langacker, 2008, p. 291). More obviously, the principle of quantity underlies such morphological phenomena as reduplication or repetition, either systemic or contextual. For instance, in the Tok Pidgin noun wil-wil (“bicycle”) the element of imagic iconicity prevails, while in (3) One is always tempted to think of the Second World War exclusively in terms of battles, bombings, broadsides and bloodshed (Norman Davies, Europe at War 1939–1945. No simple victory – my emphasis) rhetoric repetition of the sound “b” and the chain of alliterating plural nouns serves the purpose of intensifying the part of the meaning that these nouns share.

3.2╇Proximity In diagrammatic iconicity the principle of quantity often merges with that of proximity. Examples abound, and they can be found on all levels of language. In morphology, structures known as blends result from reducing the distance between concepts, with appropriate phonetic changes, as in Polish motorower (“rower z motorkiem”) or English brunch (“breakfast-cum-lunch”). The comparison of blends and collocations clearly demonstrates the iconic principle of proximity at work: (4) a.╇white as snow vs. snow-white b.╇ biały jak śnieg vs. śnieżnobiały In both English and Polish the first item in the pair implies larger epistemic distance between the two concepts (“snow” and “white”) than the second, which tallies, for instance, with literary debates concerning the difference between a simile and a metaphor. Phonologically, the reduction leads to phonetic changes: weakening of word stress and phonetic assimilation, followed by graphic modification, as in English raspberry (rasp+berry). The same principle underlies the process of grammaticalization, or semantic bleaching, as in the Polish particle przecież (“surely”, “indeed”), etymologically derived from the phrase przed-cię-ż (”take[this]in front of you”), a metaphor of a plea for the interlocutor’s attention. The transformation into a single lexical item mirrors maximal reduction of conceptual distance between the constituents. As observed by Langacker, in English system of tenses the zero marker on the present tense forms, as opposed to overt markers of other tenses, follows the principle “the more marking, the greater the epistemic distance” (Langacker, 2008, p. 302). 324

Earlier, Jakobson argued that “a zero affix cannot steadily be assigned to a marked category, and a “non-zero” (real) affix to the unmarked category” (Jakobson, 1966, p. 270), thus implying that grammatical markedness is iconically motivated. “Epistemic distance” can be iconically marked by the ordering of adjectives in complex nominal phrases, as in (5) a.╇an uncomfortable large round oak conference table b.╇ niewygodny wielki okrągły dębowy stół konferencyjny Moreover, the postposition of the last adjective In (5) b. mirrors the cognitive process of categorization: stół is motivated restrictively (rather than attributively) by the communicative need to create a subcategory of “conference tables”. The difference between (5) a. and b. show that iconic strategies are not universal, a topic that cannot be discussed in detail at this point. In English, the peripheral position of the determiner in a sentence is believed to mirror its “conceptual status” (Langacker, 2008, p. 275). Yet the most quoted syntactic example of the principle of proximity is the construction known as “Dative Shift” which exists in both English and Polish: (6) a. Please bring Mary a chair b. Proszę, przynieś Marysi krzesło c. Please bring a chair for Mary d. Proszę, przynieś krzesło dla Marysi, with (6) a. and b. implying with more probability than either (6) c. or (6) d. that Mary is actually present on the scene. On textual level, the principle of proximity can be illustrated by paronomasia, and on the level of discourse by verbal politeness. The former involves juxtaposition of two items that are similar phonetically in order to bring out the real or purported semantic connection between them, as in: (7) Your children need your presence more than your presents. (Jesse Jackson) or in (8) gadka-szmatka or mowa-trawa, where the „speaking” is discredited by being absurdly compared to objects of no relevance. In discourse, the principle of quantity governs social conventions of politeness. Respect for the interlocutor, conceptualized as abstract (social) distance, is mirrored by the linguistic structure of the request: 325

(9) a. Lend me your car b. Pożycz mi auta c. I wonder whether it would be possible for you to lend me your car d. Zastanawiam się, czy mógłbym cię prosić, żebyś mi pożyczył auta (8) a. and b. are definitely less polite than (8) c. or d.

3.3╇Sequentiality To use the term introduced by Enkvist (1990) he principle of proximity often “conspires” with that of sequentiality – by far the most common property of iconically motivated grammar. One of the most frequently quoted examples is Julius Caesar’s famous asyndeton (10) veni –vidi – vici, where the order of the three verbs mirrors the order of Caesar’s actions, while the parallelism of morphological and phonetic features of the three lexemes suggests parallels between actions referred to (e.g. brief and easy). Moreover, asyndetic construction mirrors the reduced temporal distance between them, implying quick succession. A “purer” manifestation of sequential iconicity is what Enkvist calls “experiential iconicity”(1990), sixteen years later defined as “the way in which grammatical organisation mirrors experience” (Green & Evans, 2006, p. 197). Predictably, however, in the cognitive theory the definition becomes, so to say, twice removed: …” the order in which events are conceived as occurring dovetails with the order in which they are conceptualized and described” (Langacker, 2008, p. 79 – my emphasis). In what Langacker analyses as “nested locatives”: (11) Your camera is upstairs, in the bedroom, in the closet, on the shelf (Langacker 2008: 195). (12) Talerze są w kuchni w szafce, w górnej szufladzie po lewej stronie the “zooming in” effect reflects “the successive loci of attention” (2008, p. 196), thus mirroring the path to be (physically or mentally) followed by the hearer. In what Enkvist refers to as the category prototype, that is, cookery books (13) Quarter the pineapple. Cut off core. With grapefruit knife, cut fruit from peel. Slice crosswise. instructions mirror the order in which they should be followed, and adverb fronting mirrors actual experience (find the right knife and then use it in the way indicated). Enkvist defines this type of iconicity as “action oriented”; as 326

a parallel construction he lists the ”temporal” variant, giving a much quoted example: (14) a.╇John And Suzie got married and had a baby b.╇ John and Suzie had a baby and got married In (14) a. and b. – as would also be the case in Polish – sequentiality is expressed by the paratactic conjunction and, which, unlike in formal logic, does not mark a symmetrical relation and is interpreted as equivalent to “and then”. The conjunction appears in iconic collocations like (15) a. cash and Carry, now and again, here and there…. b.╇ tu i tam, teraz i zawsze, tam i z powrotem, być albo nie być…. which express spatial or temporal sequentiality, at the same time most frequently following the pragmatic principle “me first”. Sequential iconicity is a governing principle of narrative structures: speakers know that, faced with a description of a sequence of events, their hearers automatically assume that these events had occurred in the same order in the reality described. This mechanism of “creating a virtual reality” is well-known to all story tellers. As is well-known by politicians, it can also be used as an instrument of manipulation (cf. Tabakowska, forthcoming).

4.╇Those mysterious Polish constructions As a plea for the recognition of the explanatory power of iconicity, some grammatical constructions can be mentioned which Polish linguists have notoriously found difficult to explain. Thus, imagic iconicity explains the seemingly mysterious use of the pronoun sam (“alone”) in (16) Odprowadził mnie do samych drzwi, Where the pronoun removes form the image all (irrelevant) scenery except the door. The proximity principle is at work behind the diagrammatic iconicity in (17) a.╇ Nie widzę siebie na tym zdjęciu b.╇ Nie widzę się w tym lustrze, Where the subtle semantic difference between one- and two-participant scenes provides evidence for the joint principles of quantity and distance (cf. Tabakowska 2003), at the same time providing evidence for the existence of medium voice in contemporary Polish. 327

Differences in epistemic distance explain why utwór Herberta (“Herbert’s poem”) is considered by the speaker as less characteristic of the poet than Herbertowy utwór (“the Herbert poem”). At this point, the handful of examples must suffice; for more exotic instances, an interested reader should consult Haiman 1980.

5.╇Conclusion Cognitive Grammar – albeit implicitly - assumes that iconicity had a role to play as a source of motivation when systems of language were first created. It also acknowledges – though implicitly – its role as a factor relevant in constructing ad hoc verbal expressions. However, it deserves more attention. In 1980 Haiman wrote: “Since the transformational revolution, it has been claimed that the structure of language reflects the structure of THOUGHT, and that its study provides ‘a window on the mind’. In arguing, as I have done, for the iconicity of grammar in general, I contend that the structure of thought in its turn reflects the structure of REALITY to an extent greater than it is now fashionable to recognize” (1980, p. 537). Quoting Russell, Haiman claimed that “partly by means of the study of syntax, we can arrive at a considerable knowledge of the structure of the world” (Russell, 1977, p. 328, after Haiman, 1980, p. 537). In this connection, two points should be made. First, Russell’s “partly” is significant in that iconicity should be considered as tendency towards making the forms of language fit evident similarities of its functions and meaning. One must remember that, apart from iconicity, grammar is motivated by an often overriding tendency towards economy of expression. Moreover, as is well-known, iconicity is not eternal, with icons changing into symbols in the process of diachronic change. Second, “the world” of Russell and Haiman (1980) came to be understood as Enkvist’s “the world described” (1990) and Langacker’s “the world conceptualized and described”. It is in this sense that the study of language – and of iconicity of linguistic structures in particular - provides “a window on the mind”.

References Antas, J. (2013). Semantyczność ciała. Gesty jako znaki myślenia. DVD. Primum Verbum. Croft, W. & D. A. Cruse. (2004). Cognitive Linguistics. Cambridge: CUP. Eco, U. (2000). Kant and the platypus. Essays on language and cognition. London: Vintage. 328

Enkvist, N. E. (1990). Discourse Comprehension, Text Strategies and Style. AUMLA 73. 166–180. Evans, V. & M. Green. (2006). Cognitive Linguistics. An Introduction. Edinburgh: EUP. Haiman, J. (1980). The iconicity of grammar: Isomorphism and motivation. Language 56/3, 515–540. Jakobson, R. (1966). Implications of language universals for linguistics. In Universals of Language, J. Greenberg (Ed.), Cambridge, MA: MIT, pp. 263–278. Jakobson, R. (1971). Quest for the essence of language. Selected writings, vol. 2. 345–360. The Hague: Mouton. Langacker, R. (1978). Form and meaning of the English auxiliary, Language 54. 853–882. Langacker, R. (2008). Cognitive Grammar. A basic Introduction. Oxford: OUP. Meir, I., C. Padden, M. Aronoff & W. Sandler. (2013). Competing iconicities in the structure of languages. Cognitive Linguistics 24/2. 309–343. Ohori, T. (2013). Rethinking iconicity for an evolutionary perspective. Paper read at the 9th International Symposium on Iconicity in Language and Literature, Tokio 3–5 maja 2013. Plato. (1997). Complete works. John M. Cooper and D.S. Hutchinson (Eds.), Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co. Tabakowska, E. (2001). Iconicity, Handbook of Pragmatics, Jeff Verschueren, J.-O. Östman, J. Blommaert & C. Bukcaen (Eds.), Amsterdam/Philadelphia, John Benjamins. 1–17. Tabakowska, E. (2003). Conceptualization of agency in contemporary Polish. In. L.M.Bauer & G.-J. Pinault (Eds.). Language in Time and Space. Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Tabakowska, E. (2013). Ikoniczność sekwencyjna a organizacja narracji. In D. Filar & D. Piekarczyk (Eds.). Narracyjność języka i kultury. (pp. 117–124). Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS. Talmy, L. (1996). Fictive Motion in Language and -Ception. In P. Bloom, M. Peterson, L. Nadel & M. Garret (Eds.), Language and Space. Cambridge: MIT Press. pp. 211–276. Wierzbicka, A. (1991). Cross-Cultural Pragmatics. The Semantics of Human Interaction. Mouton de Gruyter: Berlin/New York. Wierzbicka, A. (2004). Polish and Universal Grammar. Studies in Polish Linguistics 1/2004. 9–28. 329

Jacek Tadeusz Waliński1 University of Lodz, Poland

Motion as a modulator of spatiotemporal relations in prepositional expressions of distance Abstract There has been a long lasting debate on the entanglement of space and time in cognition. One way to find some credible information about that relationship is to gather data on the distribution of spatial and temporal representations from linguistic corpora. A context that appears to be well suited to this purpose is the domain of prepositional expressions of distance, since they happen to take both spatial and temporal complements. Using standard reference language corpora for English and Polish, this study demonstrates an overall proportion between spatial and temporal prepositional phrases denoting spatial distance in absolute terms. The data reveal that the preposition away is used more frequently with temporal units to specify distance in space than to express temporal relations, which indicates that in the context of ways separating spatial locations both English and Polish speakers tend to express distance in temporal terms. This paper explores a hypothesis that the outstanding temporality of away-PPs results from the semantic component of motion, which acts as an underlying modulator that shifts conceptualizations of distance from spatial to temporal terms. Keywords space; time; motion; distance; propositional phrases; empirical linguistics

1.╇Introduction The descriptive grammar of English has been undergoing substantial changes over the recent years, which have seen the publication of two voluminous reference grammars of present-day English: Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written English (Biber et al., 1999) and Cambridge Grammar of the English

1 Research presented in this paper was carried out within COST Action TD0904 TIMELY, and supported with Polish National Science Centre grant No. 2011/01/M/ HS2/03042, Perception of Time as a Linguistic Category.

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Language (Huddleston & Pullum, 2002). Huddleston and Pullum (2002, Ch. 7) employ a definition of prepositions that is considerably broader than those used in the traditional descriptive grammars (e.g. Quirk, et al., 1985). Following recent developments in linguistics, they see prepositions as heads of preposition phrases, which are comparable in their structure to phrases headed by verbs, nouns, adjectives, and adverbs. For example, while the traditional grammars treat before in (1) as a preposition, in (2) as a subordinating conjunction, and in (3) as an adverb, Huddleston and Pullum see this triple assignment as an unnecessary complication. (1) We left before the last act. [NP complement] (2) That was before he died. [clause complement] (3) I had seen that face before. [no complement] They argue that it is much simpler to treat before as a preposition in all three examples. To support their argument they point out that before has the same meaning in all these sentences, and can take the same modifiers, e.g. shortly, an hour, a short while, in frontal position in all the above examples. The difference between the three instances is thus solely a matter of the complement and nowhere else in the grammar is a part-of-speech distinction based purely on a difference of this kind. With this innovative approach, all words traditionally classified as prepositions are still classified as prepositions but now the category includes a number of other lexical items formerly classified as subordinating conjunctions and adverbs. For the latter category redrawing of the boundaries includes words like aboard, across, along, away, beyond, off, over, through, etc., which can occur either with an NP complement or without a complement. Huddleston and Pullum (2002) add that these lexical items have been regarded as adverbs mainly because they are obviously not nouns, verbs, adjectives or conjunctions, and there is nowhere else to put them except in the adverb category.

2.╇Semantics of prepositions The semantics of prepositions has been undergoing considerable changes in linguistic studies, as well. Classical approaches to meaning of prepositions derived from formal conceptions of semantics, which were predominant in studies conducted in the 1970s (e.g. Bennett, 1975), were subsequently contested by cognitive linguistic studies conducted in 1980s and 1990s (e.g. Brugman 1981/1988; Herskovits, 1986; Lakoff, 1987; Vandeloise, 1991). Essentially, those later proposals assume that prepositions are polysemous items that have a primary sense from which non-primary ones extrude in the form of radial network of meanings. 332

From this outlook, the preposition can be viewed as a structure with a centre and a periphery, which goes in line with a cognitive assumption that categories are organized with respect to a prototype (see Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk, 2007 for a review of polysemy, prototypes, and radial categories). Lakoff (1987, pp. 416–461) discusses more than twenty distinct meanings of over in an extensive case study. He argues that differences observed between various uses of that preposition should be regarded as distinct senses, i.e. distinct representations that language users keep in their mental lexicons. However, Sandra and Rice (1995) pointed out that a fundamental shortcoming of prepositional networks, as they termed Lakoff ’s methodology, was that they were designed without the use of any explicit criteria and discovery procedures. Thus, any prepositional network proposed in this manner predominantly reflects a particular analyst’s own preferences, which casts a serious doubt on the systematic functioning of prepositional networks in the mental lexicon of language users, and makes that framework weak from a methodological point of view. A subsequently proposed framework of principled polysemy (Tyler & Evans, 2001) attempted to solve the problem by introducing a methodology for determining distinct prepositional senses based on two criteria: First … for a sense to count as distinct, it must involve a meaning that is not purely spatial in nature and/or in which the spatial configuration between the trajector and landmark is changed vis-a-vis the other senses associated with a particular preposition. Second, there must be instances of the sense that are context-independent, instances in which the distinct sense could not be inferred from another sense and the context in which it occurs. (Tyler & Evans, 2001, pp. 731–732).

Form this perspective, the following sentences (4) and (5) constitute distinct senses, but the sentence (6) does not. In (4) a non-spatial meaning associated with over appears to be that of covering (cf. Lakoff, 1987, p. 425), which is not consistent with the spatial configuration between the trajector and landmark designated by over in the above sense exemplified in (5). This illustrates the first criterion for whether an instance counts as a distinct sense. (4) Joan nailed a board over the hole in the ceiling. [covering sense] (5) The hummingbird hovered over the flower. [above sense] (6) The tablecloth is over the table. Despite the fact that the sentence (6) marks contact between the trajector and landmark, it still can be associated with the above sense in (4), because a tablecloth is typically situated higher than the top of the table from the usual vantage point. Moreover, it can be associated with the covering sense in (5), which can be inferred from the common knowledge that tablecloths are 333

typically larger than tables. Therefore, it is not a distinct sense, which illustrates the second criterion. More recently, however, Evans (2010) admitted that modeling the intricacy of the spatial and functional relations conveyed by prepositions is more complex than initially assumed by the principled polysemy approach. He presented a proposal of refining the framework from the perspective of the theory of Lexical Concepts and Cognitive Models. Evans (2010) suggests that the particular semantics denoted by a preposition is related to specific psychosomatic states. For example, we say in trouble because experiencing trouble is like being “enclosed” [Enclosure] (cf. Turewicz, 2005), and we say at risk because experiencing risk is like being “located” [Co-Location] near an external threat.

3.╇Spatial and temporal meaning of prepositions It has been traditionally accepted (e.g. Bennett, 1975; Lyons, 1977) that prepositions serve to express both spatial and temporal relations. However, some cognitive linguists, most notably Langacker (1992, 2012) and Talmy (2000a, Ch. 1) see prepositions as linguistic particles that profile atemporal relations. It relates to an observation that, unlike verbs, prepositions do not express relations evolving over time. Instead, they represent conceptualized relations holding between two entities, independent of sequentially evolving interdependencies. There has also been a long-lasting debate, started probably in developmental psychology (Clark, 1973), whether temporal meanings of prepositions are derived from cognitively prior representations of space that stem from perceptualmotor experiences. Observations that conceptions of time are not expressed on their own terms but appear to be consistently structured in spatial terms were discussed by Lakoff & Johnson (1980) among fundamental arguments for the theory of conceptual metaphors. To answer this question, Haspelmath (1997) conducted an impressive study of spatial-temporal correlations in temporal adverbials based on data collected from fifty-three world’s languages. He stated the goal of his research as “to assemble cross-linguistic evidence for the hypothesis that temporal notions are conceptualized in terms of spatial notions.” (Haspelmath, 1997, p. 4). He tried to determine whether temporal terms historically originate from spatial ones by identifying cross-linguistic patterns that indicate a conceptual dependency of temporal on spatial representations. Haspelmath (1997, p. 140) concludes that while it is not possible to prove such a dependency on the basis of linguistic evidence alone, it is highly probable that time is universally secondary to space, irrespective of metaphorical conceptualizations. 334

However, Tenbrink (2007) points out that there is no language demonstrating, either synchronically or diachronically, an exact identity between spatial and temporal terms. From that perspective, data presented by Haspelmath (1997) can be interpreted as demonstrating numerous similarities between temporal and spatial expressions. As put by Tenbrink (2007, p. 14): “A closer look at Haspelmath’s data and line of argumentation shows that, overwhelmingly, he simply points to existing similarities between spatial and temporal linguistic expressions.” She adds that his argumentation for the conceptual priority of space is not linguistic, but rather based on intuition. Szwedek (2009) analyzed a subset of prepositions including in, over and across in terms of their metaphoricity and polysemycity. Although it has been customary to approach prepositions as inherently polysemous elements, his analysis demonstrates that separate senses of a preposition are, at least in a good number of cases, context dependent. For example, for the sentences “The line stretches over the yard” and “The plane flew over the village” the static or dynamic aspect of meaning of the preposition is not derived from the inherent meaning of over, but depends on the context. As put by Szwedek, “rather than talking about distinct senses of prepositions, we can only say that prepositions are open to static/ dynamic, and possibly other interpretations, in the sense that they appear in such contexts” (Szwedek, 2009, p. 174). Demonstrating that both over and in seem to be neutral with respect to the dynamic/static opposition, Szwedek (2009) is skeptical about the metaphorical status of prepositions, and instead views distinctive prepositional relations as associated with a higher-order conceptual distinction between concrete (physical) and abstract entities, which he discusses with reference to the theory of objectification (see Szwedek, 2007, 2011). Bączkowska (2011) illustrates the dimensions of time and space in prepositional meanings using spatial-temporal cones, i.e. geometrical representations of spacetime developed by Hermann Minkowski. She concludes that the prepositional meaning resides both in the lexeme and in the way it is conceptualized. The latter is strongly affected by the speaker’s language community, as well as the particular semantic-pragmatic communicative situation. For the Polish language, Tabakowska (2003) presented an analysis of space and time in different uses of the Polish preposition za and the corresponding perfectivizing verbal prefix za-. By pointing out that perfectivizing prefixes developed historically from adnominal elements, which later developed into prepositions, she argues that such prefixes still carry abstract elements of meaning stemming from their original function, which plays a vital role in shaping and modifying construals related to space and time. For example, the semantic 335

relatedness of that preposition-prefix pair predicts the choice of za- with verbs of location and motion while precluding its occurrence with others. Taken together, it seems that temporal relations expressed by prepositions are associated most vividly with the corresponding spatial representations when people are confronted with some specific tasks, especially linguistic ones, that involve motion mediated temporal reasoning. It is noteworthy that studies examining the experiential link between spatial and temporal language with reference to disambiguation of temporal statements employ motion as the element that interfaces space with time (see Ramscar, Matlock & Boroditsky, 2010 for a review). Following that observation, the research discussed in this paper investigates a hypothesis that motion acts as a key element that modulates spatial and temporal expressions of distance, which can be observed in prepositional phrases.

4.╇Space and time in PPs expressing spatial distance According to widespread linguistic intuitions, it seems obvious that the relationship between time and space in distance expressions is determined by the asymmetry of space and time reflected in linguistic metaphors (Lakoff & Johnson, 1980). However, as emphasized by Sinclair (1991, p. 4) “human intuition about language is highly specific, and not at all a good guide to what actually happens when people actually use the language”. A credible way to find more actual information about that relationship is to gather some tangible data on the distribution of spatial and temporal representations of distance from linguistic corpora. One linguistic context that appears to be well suited to this purpose is the domain of prepositional expressions of distance, since they happen to take both spatial and temporal complements. On these grounds, this study approaches the problem of relations between space and time in prepositional expressions of distance from the perspective of cognitive corpus-based linguistics, which relies on explanatory notions adopted by the cognitive linguistics framework, but approaches them in such a way that their relevance to a given linguistic phenomenon can be empirically validated in large corpora (Heylen, Tummers & Geeraerts, 2008; see LewandowskaTomaszczyk & Dziwirek, 2009 for examples of studies). Essentially, it demonstrates how people actually use language in natural contexts, rather than discusses what is theoretically possible in language. The investigation is carried out using standard reference language corpora for English and Polish. For the former the study employs the British National Corpus (henceforth, the BNC), which is a 100 million word collection of samples of written and spoken contemporary British English from a wide range of texts 336

(see www.natcorp.ox.ac.uk for more information). For Polish this study is based on the Narodowy Korpus Języka Polskiego (the Polish National Corpus, henceforth, the NCP), which is a 240 million word collection of samples of both spoken and written contemporary Polish roughly mirroring the BNC in its structure (see www.nkjp.pl for more information). This study examines distance in the sense of geographical separation of one point from another in physical space. The research is additionally restricted to expressions specifying absolute distance, i.e. one denoted in spatial or temporal units, e.g. “fifteen miles from London” or “fifteen minutes from London”. Although such denotations are a basic way of specifying spatial extents, expressions of distance are not limited to information conveyed explicitly (see Carlson, 2010 for a review). Therefore, it must be emphasized that the aim of this study is not to examine the entirety of ways used to express distance in language, but to observe an overall proportion between spatial and temporal prepositional phrases denoting spatial distance in absolute terms. A selection of prepositions analyzed in this paper is limited to fifteen lexemes commonly used to express spatial relations: across, ahead, along, apart, away, behind, between, beyond, from, off, over, through, to, towards, and within, which also happen to express temporal relations (Bennett, 1975; Huddleston & Pullum, 2002). Although different worldwide languages also employ temporal prepositions, such as after and before, to express spatial relations (Haspelmath, 1997), they are not included in this research because in present-day English they are associated more directly with expressing relations in time, rather than space. The search for representations of distance in spatial and temporal terms was executed by looking for frequencies of prepositional phrases including the following lexical pattern: Quantifier + Spatial or Temporal Unit + Spatial Preposition In the above pattern, the quantifier is either a cardinal number or a determinative used with countable nouns, e.g. a, an, few, many, several, some, etc. Cardinal numbers are easily identifiable in the BNC thanks to part-of-speech annotation, which marks all cardinal numbers, spelled both in words and digits, with the tag included in the C5 tagset (Garside, et al., 1997). The use of quantifiers raises the precision of corpus queries by essentially eliminating irrelevant matches sharing the pattern by coincidence. Units of space measurement selected for analysis include both metric and imperial units typically used in the U.K., also in their American variants of spelling, i.e. kilometre (kilometer), metre (meter), mile, and yard. Units of time measurement include those that are typically used to express spatial distance in 337

terms of duration, i.e. minutes, hours, and days. For the preposition within a slightly modified pattern, with the preposition put first was used. A listing of queries used in this research is included in Appendix, which provides for immediate replicability of the study (see also Waliński, 2012a, 2012b for listings of concordances retrieved from the corpora).

5.╇Spatial and temporal representations of distance in the BNC Corpus queries based on the above pattern returned 5,221 matching concordance lines for the spatial units from the BNC. The resulting set was carefully reviewed to exclude matches sharing the defined sequence of lexical items by coincidence. It confirmed that practically all identified examples included representations of spatial distance. Parallel corpus queries implemented for the temporal units retrieved 5,847 concordance lines from the BNC. However, a review of the resulting set revealed that most of them express distance in time rather than space. In the outcome, only 482 concordance lines were recognized as valid representations of spatial distance in temporal terms. As shown in Table 1, almost all of the selected prepositions can be observed in the BNC in expressions denoting distance in absolute spatial and temporal terms, however, they are not equally widespread in respective contexts. Table 1: Representations of distance in spatial and temporal terms found in the BNC for selected prepositions Preposition across

Distance denoted in spatial terms 144

Other spatial Distance denoted Other temporal relations in temporal terms relations 0 1 6

ahead

40

0

1

27

along

85

0

4

8

apart

106

0

1

16

away

1655

0

92

35

behind

79

2

1

56

between

53

0

0

69

beyond

47

0

0

3

from

1763

0

164

612

off

137

1

3

270

over

39

0

2

88

through

48

0

5

43

338

Preposition to towards

Distance denoted in spatial terms 741

Other spatial Distance denoted Other temporal relations in temporal terms relations 3 147 2510

12

0

0

9

within

266

Total

5215

0

61

1613

6

482

5365

Table 1 shows that 5,215 concordance lines retrieved from the BNC for the spatial units were recognized as valid representations of spatial distance, but only 482 concordance lines retrieved from the corpus for the temporal units were recognized as valid representations of spatial distance. Although it is impossible to discuss the living organism of language in absolute numbers, the proportion of spatial vs. temporal representations of distance found in the BNC is a significant indicator that generally English speakers tend to express distance in spatial terms. The overall result can be used to support claims that spatial relations are relatively rarely expressed in terms of duration, which is congruent with observations on the nature of spatiotemporal relations in conceptual metaphors presented over 30 years ago by Lakoff and Johnson (1980). However, taking a closer look at Table 1 reveals that one lexical item, namely away, stands out from the rest of analyzed prepositions in a particular manner. It is used more frequently with temporal units to specify distance in space (92 times) than to express temporal relations (35 times). No other preposition from the selection analyzed in the research manifests this kind of predisposition. The number of examples retrieved from the BNC is substantial enough to indicate that the difference does not arise from a coincidental occurrence in the corpus.

6.╇Representations of distance with away in the NCP To attest validity of the above observation for another language a similar search was executed for Polish using the NCP. Although Polish does not have an equivalent directly correspondent to away in the form of a single lexical item, it conveys the meaning of disconnection in space2 with a combination of set phrases

2 As noted in Oxford English and PWN-Oxford dictionaries, although predominantly associated with removal in space due to motion, away is also used to speak of actions, positions, directions, and of states or conditions resulting from removal, deprivation, elimination, parting, loss or extinction. It can be used to express use of time, e.g. “They danced the night away” or “He slept the day away”, as well as to emphasize

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expressing separation from/to a destination point. Thus, for Polish spatial and temporal representations of distance for the parallel semantic context were identified with a combination of phrases: drogi do (Lit. “of way to”), drogi z[e]/od[e]) (Lit. “of way from”), and drogi stąd (Lit. “of way from here”), using the following lexical pattern: Quantifier + Spatial or Temporal Unit + Spatial Preposition Units of time measurement selected for Polish include minuta, godzina, dzień [minute, hour, day] and units of space measurement kilometr, metr, mila [kiloÂ� meter, meter, mile], which generally parallels the units used for English. Although Polish speakers do not normally express spatial extents with imperial units, mila morska [nautical mile] is used for denoting sea distance. Corpus queries based on the above pattern retrieved 137 concordance lines from the NCP, which were reviewed to exclude coincidental matches. Six examples were found to share the defined sequence of lexical items by coincidence. Table 2: Representations of distance in spatial and temporal terms identified in the NCP for set phrases parallel semantically to “away” away in Polish

Distance denoted in spatial terms 7

Coincidental hits 2

Distance denoted in temporal terms 3

10

2

91

drogi stąd

0

0

20

0 2 0

Total

17

4

114

2

drogi do drogi z(e)/od(e)

Coincidental hits

As shown in Table 2, the gap between 17 spatial vs. 114 temporal representations of distance found in the NCP indicates that in the context of ways from/to a destination, which partly covers the meaning of away, Polish speakers have a tendency to express spatial distance in temporal terms, too.

7.╇Motion as a modulator of distance expressions The above-reported results suggest that in the context of ways separating spatial locations both English and Polish speakers have a tendency to express distance in temporal terms. A question that arises from this observation is what acts as temporal continuity of action, e.g. “He’s been painting away all morning”. These other uses, however, exceed the scope of this study.

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a catalyst for conceptualizations of separation between points in physical space in terms of duration. One possible answer can be inferred from the etymology of away. As noted in OED, away in its origin it was a phrase, on prep., and weʓ, way, i.e. on (his, one’s) way, ‘on’ of motion (as in ‘move on’), and thus also ‘from this (or that) place’ to a distance. Already in Old English reduced to a-weʓ. Ways are inherently characterized by the semantic component of motion, since they are meant to be traveled. Way in the sense of the Path used for motion of objects in space is a basic component of the Source-Path-Goal image schema of motion (Lakoff, 1987). It is also an internal core component of motion events, which according to Talmy (2000b, p. 25) involve “the presence per se of motion or locatedness in the event”. Hence, at least from Talmy’s (2000b) outlook, the notion of motion event refers to translocation and the continuation of a stationary location alike, despite the fact the in the latter an object does not shift its location in space from one point to another. Therefore, a plausible explanation for the outstanding temporality of awayPPs expressing separation in space is that the semantic component of motion acts as an underlying modulator that shifts conceptualizations of distance from spatial to temporal terms. Such a presumption is by no means unusual. Earlier cognitive behavioral studies have found that spatiotemporal reasoning is affected by conceptualizations of real, imagined, and fictive motion in physical and nonphysical domains (see Ramscar et al., 2010 for a review).

8.╇Conclusions One observation that emerges from this research is that the relationship between space and time in cognition is not universally asymmetric. Instead, it appears that their mutual entanglement in cognition hinges, at least to some extent, on the underlying semantic context in which a particular conceptualization takes place. As demonstrated in this study, the semantic element of motion seems to act as a modulator that shifts conceptualizations of distance from spatial to temporal terms. Since the temporal dimension is the primary cognitive domain of instantiation for events (Langacker, 2008, Ch. 11; 2012), it appears that in the context of motion events temporal conceptualizations of distance take precedence over spatial ones (see Waliński, 2014). In more general terms, the results suggest that in motion-framed scenarios, space and time can be viewed as elements of a unified conceptual frame, which dictates their reciprocal relations in a complementary fashion. Kövecses (2005, p. 53) discusses a Timeâ•‚Motion schema, within which elements can stand for each other in the form of metonymies. He notes that in English one can say, for 341

example, “I slept for fifty miles while she drove” (Distance For Time-Duration), as well as “San Francisco is half an hour from Berkeley” (Time-Duration For Distance). The metonymical relationship between space and time has also been noticed by Engberg-Pedersen (1999), who points out that we can use names of places, which are primarily spatial words, to denote punctual moments in time in terms of spatial locations, e.g. “I haven’t had a drink since London”. In the light of this research, it appears that in the semantic context of motion events the scope of universal experiences extends to a single conceptual frame of Space-Time-Motion, within which the conceptualizations of space and time can stand metonymically for one another. The complementarity of space and time in distance representations is likely to be related to the unity of time, space, and motion observed by Aristotle, who pointed out in Physics (350BC/1995) that all motion takes place in space and time: space is the potentiality, and time is the measure of motion. Observations of travel time as a popular metric of spatial distance have been made for years in studies on geographical cognition (e.g. MacEachren, 1980), especially in the context of urban environments, where reaching destinations depends not as much on the spatial separation as on the traffic intensity at different times of the day. Temporal conceptualizations of distance are highly versatile for they facilitate expressing distance according to the speaker’s subjective profiling needs, irrespective of separation in metric terms. For example, the sentences “The station is only ten minutes away” and “The main camp must be nearly two days march away” may both represent the distance of about 10 kilometers, if the former refers to traveling by car, while the latter to marching in a particularly difficult terrain. Moreover, this type of distance conceptualizations provides means for expressing distance unknown precisely in metric terms, e.g. “The village centre is about seven minutes walk away”. Because spatial cognition is largely relativistic and approximate, rather than Euclidean and quantitative (Talmy, 2000a, Ch. 1 & 3), it comes naturally to language users to specify the distance to Mars in months of space traveling or the distance to Mt. Everest peak in days of climbing, without even noticing the conceptual shift from spatial to temporal domain of representation.

Appendix 1.╇ Explanations for query listings A single asterisk (*) replaces any number of characters, e.g. [yard*] substitutes for “yard, yards, yardstick, etc.” A pipe ( | ) stands for logical AND, which enables executing multiple queries with a single line, e.g. [way to|from] substitutes for 342

“way to” and “way from”. The PELCRA concordancer offers an underlying Polish morphological dictionary, which allows for queries incorporating all Polish inflectional forms with a double asterisk (**) used as a wildcard.

2.╇Corpus queries used to examine representations of distance in spatial and temporal terms in the BNC. For spatial units [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* across] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* ahead] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* along] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* apart] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* away] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* behind] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* between] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* beyond] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* from] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* off] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* over] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* through] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* to] [|a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard* towards] [within |a|an|few|many|several|somekilomet*|metre*|meter*|mile*|yard*] For temporal units: [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days across] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days ahead] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days along] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days apart] 343

[CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days away] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days behind] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days between] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days beyond] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days from] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days off] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days over] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days through] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days to] [CRD>|a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days towards] [within |a|an|few|many|several|some minute*|hour*|day|days]

3.╇Corpus queries used to examine representations of distance in spatial and temporal terms for phrases parallel semantically to the preposition away in the NCP. For spatial units: [metr**|kilometr**|mila** drogido|z|ze|od|ode|stąd] For temporal units: [minuta**|godzina**|dzień** drogi do|z|ze|od|stąd]

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Ewa Wychorska Suwałki, Poland

Abstract vs concrete: contrastive analysis of the conceptualization of stillness and motion in Polish and English1 Abstract Are fictive motion and fictive stillness still abstract? Can concrete motion be conceptualized in an abstract way? Can fictive motion be eventually understood in terms of simulations of concrete experience or in terms of the product of the way that language influences thought? The goal of this talk is to argue for the framework of cognitive contrastive analysis of fictive and factive motion and stillness. There is a discussion of the issue of fictive and factive motion and stillness not only from the point of view of motion verbs that apply to a subject that is not literally capable of movement in the physical world but also from the point of view of lexical semantics that through the process of semantic derivation of meaning of e.g. nouns, rooted in the concrete, embodied nature of the concept of motion and stillness due to the nature of semantic change with its set of lexical operations influence this kind of process of conceptualization. In particular I will be focusing on contrastive analysis of the concepts of fictive and factive motion and stillness in Polish and English. In so doing I will be drawing on recent research in cognitive linguistics framework. The general position I am adopting is a consequence of assumptions widely supported and also demonstrated by and within the framework of cognitive linguistics. Keywords motion; stillness; cognitive semantics; conceptualization

1.╇Is abstract motion still abstract? People use language about abstract motion to describe static situation (Matlock, 2010, p. 244). Similarly as the following work suggests people use language about abstract stillness or steadiness to describe situations in motion. This paper examines abstract stillness, which is believed to underline spatial descriptions such as standing wave, frozen activity, delphic stillness, wind farm, dead voice, etc. The 1 Proofread by Luke Anthony Mc Carron.

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questions raised here are concerned with the notions of abstract stillness or steadiness. What is abstract stillness and how it is conceptualized? Does abstract stillness behave as physical, actual stillness? In order to analyze and answer these questions I will first follow the research done on abstract motion by Matlock (2004, 2010), Matsumoto (1996), Talmy (1996), Langacker (1991b) and Jackendoff (2002). Then I provide comparative analysis of abstract stillness that can be drawn upon the constructions such as The mountain range goes from Mexico to Canada. (Matlock, 2010, p. 244) which were of interest to cognitive linguists because they referred to them as they explained the idea that meaning is conceptualization e.g. Langacker (1987, 19991, 1999) or Lakoff (1980). Basing on this view, abstract motion and stillness motivate linguistic form. Talmy (1983, 1996, 2000) and Langacker (1987) explained that even though there is a sense of motion, no real motion is expressed. Likewise in the research I am to present, it can be claimed that even though constructions such as Pools of rainwater are standing. The moon and the sun stand still in the light blue sky. How about giving me a chance to breathe? (stop, rest) Time stands still. The day the earth stood still. invoked a sense of stationariness (Talmy, 2000) no stillness was explicitly expressed. Research on fictive motion (Talmy, 1996) revealed a lot of insights into the common ground of space and motion that give basis for the examination of conceptualization in all languages. There are works of Lakoff and Turner (1987) and Matsumoto (1996) who argue that understanding of motion and, as I assume also of stillness, is the product of conceptualization and consistently of metaphors and blending (Faucconier, 1997; Gibbs, 2001; Lakoff, 1980; Langacker, 1987, 1991, 1999) where domains of source and target are property and feature specific. Mental scanning in conceptualization performed by a conceptualizer in order to build up a situation or a “mental simulation” of an action as Rojo & Valenzuela (2003) claim and conclude by explaining why the phenomenon of fictive motion is particularly interesting for cognitivists. They continue by stating that understanding language engages perceptual or motor systems for the purpose of mentally “simulating” the content of a given utterance. The connection between language understanding and motor systems of the brain has been shown experimentally in many studies as Rojo & Valenzuela (2003) explain. Matlock (2010) conducted experiments that proved the fact that human brain area was activated even in the cases where no real motion was occurring. This is taken as evidence that participants of experiments are effectively simulating motion in their minds. On the basis of these findings it seems crucial to establish the properties and features of motion that influence the conceptualization of fictive motion first and then respectively fictive stationariness or stillness. According to experiments by Matlock (2010) and Matsumoto (1996), processing fictive motion evokes a mental 350

representation of motion. From a linguistic point of view, features such as path, manner, along with their aspects such as scope, shape, gradient, slope, sequence, direction, speed, time, degree of concreteness or abstractness, distinctions between travelable or non travelable (e.g. walls, telephone lines, wires etc., see experiments by Rojo & Valenzuela, 2003; Matsumoto, 1996; Matlock, 2010) and also agent (animate, inanimate) itself are all encoded in the verb, noun, or conveyed by some adverbials or prepositions and consequently are basic in constructing mental schemas of fictive motion and stillness as well. Some of the properties and features or differences are language specific and are beyond the scope of this paper. Fictive stillness will be examined more precisely in the next part of this work. Matsumoto (1996) focused on establishing crosslinguistic differences in the fictive motion expressions of English and Japanese. He detected a number of interesting similarities and differences in English and Japanese. Consider then examples in English and Polish: Table 1: Analysis of features and properties of fictive motion in linguistic constructions in Polish and English abstract motion: implied motion in still objects ENGLISH features/properties in domains The road runs… path Mountain range spreads/ goes manner from Canada to the USA. (both applying to all of the The path grew steeper. examples) Horizon is appearing. slope The dam is not going bust shape tomorrow. scope The story runs. distinctions between travelable The car coasted along. or non travelable The house votes against direction Prices rose. slope The slope steepened agent considerably. direction Cliffs towered. speed Mountain range runs. agent Border line goes along. shape Island hits the rocks. degree of concreteness or Volcano brings cooling. abstractness a twisting building time a rotating wall The beach stretches. West Indies loom. Easter is coming.

POLISH lasy rozciągają się trasa wiedzie Ukraina biegnie do Eurolandu. tatuaż ciągnie się po całych plecach łańcuch ciągnie się droga biegnie Ukraina biegnie do Eurolandu. chata wynurzyła się z lasu dom osuwa się na trasie pociągu czas biegnie/leci

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This topic of research still remains highly relevant for cognitive studies, since it is an area in which the interaction between the parameters of mental simulation and linguistic constraints can be insightfully investigated. These constructions are omnipresent in many languages as discussed by other linguists so far, for example, Matlock, Matsumoto, Rojo & Valenzuela, Huumo. They exemplify different expressions and constructions. This preliminary work revealed that there are many valuable insights in the Polish language as far as the conceptualization of motion and stillness is concerned. The main objective of this work here was to provide some taxonomies about fictive motion in Polish and its comparisons to the English language. This work argues that fictive motion in Polish and English is grounded in metaphorical knowledge of the world which allows mapping in the source-target domains on the basis of properties, features of domains involved and at the same time it is often a product of blending which uses the same types of domains. The use of motion verbs in the above mentioned examples enables basically stationary nouns to semantically extend their meaning in order to express spatial relations that involve neither motion per se, nor changes of state. The research of fictive motion focuses on verbs mainly, (Langacker, 1986, 2005, 2008; Talmy, 1996, 2000). Fictive motion embraces a wide range of linguistic expressions in which actual physical motion is in the background, and therefore a metaphorical image is conveyed. The actual physical motion is a factive element involving path (coextension paths, see Talmy, 2000), orientation, location, direction. The metaphorical image, on the other hand, involves a noun itself, mainly the object that is stationary. Metaphor and metonymy are possible terms for this explanation. (see Talmy, 1996, 2000 who notes that the explanation of fictive motion in terms of metonymy would be inadequate, since numerous cases of non-travelable paths cannot be associated with motion, e.g. fences). However, the constructions in the table above exemplify that non travelable paths stand for travelable paths and vice versa. According to Langacker (2008) both expressions of actual and fictive motion involve scanning along a path. In actual motion we conceptualize events by tracking the mover’s progress along a spatial path. In fictive motion we conceptualize the object that is stationary as a moving one. The core of fictive motion is therefore the stationary object itself. It must inherently have any features connected with the notion of movement. It is either length as in range, border line or e.g. shape as in Polish lasy /woods, tatuaż/ tattoo or any spatially extended object, e.g. a road, fence, scar, etc. For example, a mountain range is exemplified as the right instance of the stationary object in fictive motion but a single mountain is not and cannot be. It is apprehended by the conceptualizer by mentally accessing source and target domains’ mappings. Summing up and in accordance with Langacker (2008, p. 529) who argues 352

that basically the same mental operations are applied to a static scene in fictive motion, conceptualization of fictive motion occurs in a manner generally parallel to conceptualization of an actual motion event, some attention to the agent in the fictive movement or stillness is required and indispensable.

2.╇Is abstract stillness still abstract? Being interested in the mental simulation of motion in the realm of both literal and non-literal language use and understanding, I became intrigued by abstract motion first and then by fictive stillness. I was wondering why speakers of many languages choose to use static, expressing steadiness, no motion states verbs to describe spatial scenes, situations in constant motion, moving naturally all the time and what it says about the connection between spatial language and mental imagery. I started with a task of exploring whether abstract stillness expressions, such as static pressure, static electricity, static relationship involve a sense of stillness. These studies explore whether and how people simulate stillness while interpreting spatial descriptions that contain permanent motion. Consider then examples in English and Polish: Table 2: Analysis of features and properties of fictive stillness in linguistic constructions in Polish and English abstract stillness: â•…â•…â•…â•…â•… implied stillness in moving objects ENGLISH features/properties in domains POLISH dead voice sequencing static frames na walizkach standing wave/stationary agent życie stoi w miejscu wave separation of form from ustalone ciśnienie castle dominates animating force czas upływa Pools of rainwater are acting but causing no movement zamrożony przepływ standing. strength bezruch życia wind farm height siać wiatr motion capture speed ogień poszedł ill wind immutability czas stanął still water regularity siła spokoju trapped air durability Postęp zamyka się w still air lastingness doktrynie. sun trap permanence Postęp mieści się w sun set uniformity szrankach partii. The moon and the sun stand constant stability Postęp zahamował. still in the light blue sky. regularity zatrzymać czas the sun is at a loss showing little or no change zatrzymać kill/let die in a fixed condition eurosceptyczna falę

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electron stays in orbit around the nucleus delphic stillness static electricity frozen activity How about giving me a chance to breathe? (stop, rest) force of calmness Time stands still The day the earth stood still. (2008) Static pressure/force Static relationship

lack of movement/vitality/ development bound by…tradition.. pertaining or noting static condition not active force not to produce movement state of equilibrium no need to refresh content unchanging in time

Fictive stillness/steadiness in constructions in Polish and English as exemplified in the table above are characterized by: • Motivation: conjured up for some purpose usually for the abstract target domain • Invoke a subjective sense of stillness or state change • Structure descriptions of dynamic scenes • All of them are conceptualizations in cognitive linguistic models of fictive stillness Fictive motion which is the benchmark for the research in this work towards fictive stillness is the case of the conceptualizer taking a perspective in the scene and mentally simulating movement (Matlock, 2001) whereas in fictive stillness, the conceptualizer takes a perspective in the scene and mentally simulates steadiness. According to Talmy fictive motion allows the conceptualizer subjectively impose a state change on what is understood as a stationary state, scene or situation (Talmy, 2000; Jackendoff, 2002, p. 362) and he believes, however, that “sentences are associated with a static representation e.g. the path/ the road constitutes an atemporal relation whereby all points along it are activated simultaneously.” He questions whether any sort of motion is involved in processing fictive motion sentences. Similarly this work questions whether any sort of stillness is involved in processing fictive stillness. Steady state determination is an important topic, because many design specifications of systems (e.g. electronic), situations, events are given in terms of the steady-state characteristics. One of the main properties of steadiness in constantly moving objects is definitely time. This property equals zero at the image schemas’ dimension of conceptualization of actual and fictive stillness events. 354

∂p =0 ∂t p-property t-time ∂- partial differential: multivariable functions and partial derivatives e.g. frozen activity where p is strength, speed and t is time so in the image schema ∂ equals zero. Fictive stillness constructions represent kinds of transient events which are short-lived bursts of energy/steadiness in a system caused by a sudden change of state. Fictive stillness refers as noted in table 2 to objects which are normally in constant motion. Fictive stillness reflects a cognitive bias towards dynamism in these objects. They are often processed as figurative representations of temporal states of spatial extension (Jackendoff, 2002, pp. 360–362). As previous research suggests common features of fictive motion and subject to this research, fictive stillness are: • Subjectification ( Langacker, 2007, p. 528) “Operations come to be independent of the objective circumstances where they initially occur and whose apprehension they partly constitute…one product of subjectification is fictive movement”. Similarly, fictive stillness is the product of subjectification. • Cognitive operations for the concept of movement/stillness get involved in the conceptualization of the static/dynamic situations and vice versa • Fictive change (Matsumoto, 1996; Sweetser, 1997) kinds of: 1. past participles (e.g. broken, rooted, detached e.g. garage, or in Polish e.g. ustalony, zamrożony, stopniały…) The profiled state is viewed as departing from the canonical one/subjectively construed. 2. role description Virtual object occurring in the scenario e.g. Their Christmas tree gets smaller every year. Mental processes basic for the conceptualization and interaction with this world are the reasons why we have fictive stillness in our conceptualization. To what extent is it figurative language? Motion/stillness scenes are mapped onto linguistic units: • Metonymy e.g. object for action, action for object, motion along the path for the path 355

action for result object for action action for object motion along the path for the path They are present in all motion type constructions, not only FM, e.g. na walizkach in Polish. This construction is an example of fictive stillness. The preposition determines a steady situation whereas luggage stands for motion. • Metaphor – e.g. is a cognitive operation and language is the representation of such a cognitive mechanism e.g. motion metaphor: classic metaphorcomparison, categorization, or resemblance metaphor- embodied simulations factive/veridical domain╅╇ ---------------╅╇ fictive/less veridical domain representation of the entity representation of the entity

e.g. time is change is change is states are

motion (relative) motion a journey locations

We create a new sense of reality by calling for the radical reconceptualizations of an experience, concept, action, object which then become our basis for reality within which we operate, e.g. My mood went from good to bad., My hair went grey all along., I slipped into depression.

3.╇Conclusions Although most linguistic research so far was carried towards the explanation of fictive motion basically classifying motion typologies (Fictive motion: Talmy, 1983, 1996; Matlock, 2004; Abstract motion: Langacker, 1987; Subjective motion: Matsumoto, 1996 and Fictive motion/stillness/stationariness: Talmy, 2000) in which processing of fictive motion takes place in a manner to some extent parallel to actual motion. On the other hand, for the same instance of fictive motion expression some speakers will report a strong semantic evocation of motion, while others will report that there is none at all as Waliński (2014) summarized. He believes that apart from the conceptual reasons, the choice of either factive or fictive mode of conceptualization is related to the dynamic potential of the linguistic structure, which may far exceed the scope of a single construction. In this paper, I have provided some background on abstract motion, focusing on cognitive linguists’ claim that dynamic/static conceptualizations are fundamental notions in CL. Also the reviewed, recent experimental work proves that simulating motion/stillness occurs in figurative thought and language. Metaphor and metonymy that is exemplified in the study material appeared to 356

confirm the need for the creation of abstract notions which are subject to the embodied simulation that shapes people’s interpretation. Abstract stillness expressed in the example constructions arises as a consequence of human need for holistic conceptualizations in which metaphor’s or metonymy’s structural elements are mapped-factive-fictive and are conceptualized in a mental image. People simulate motion and stillness/steadiness as metaphorical simulations created in terms of “as if ” action. It seems that Newton’s mechanics is the basis for linguistic analysis of fictive stillness in any phenomenon that can only be analyzed from the static point of view which is in opposition to Heraklit’s relativity of motion according to which matter is naturally in perpetual motion. With regard to many respects, the notion of abstract motion proposed by Ronald Langacker and Leonard Talmy in the 1980s was ultramodern. In consideration of this, a lot of cognitive scientists have made numerous discoveries about how motion is processed by the human brain when people physically simulate actions when they are solving everyday physics problems, and this improves their ability to both simulate motion and stillness. So, at this point, it is reasonable to conclude that much more can be researched into the way humans conceptualize abstract stillness. There is far more data to support the idea and therefore this work is in many aspects preliminary. It will be informative to design experiments to examine the conceptual structure of the role of abstract stillness in processing language. Far more work could be done to conduct further experiments valuable to studying how and when people generate expressions with abstract stillness in everyday conversation. For now, there are many domains of abstract stillness yet to be explored.

References Evans, V. (2004). The Structure of Time: Language, Meaning and Temporal Cognition. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Faucconier, G. (1997) Mappings in Thought and Language. New York: Cambridge University Press. Gibbs, R., Jnr. & Matlock, T. (2001). Psycholinguistic perspectives on polysemy. In Cuyckens, H. & Zawada, B. (Eds.), Polysemy in Cognitive Linguistics: Selected Papers from the Fifth International Cognitive Linguistics Conference. (pp. 213–239). Amsterdam. John Benjamins. Jackendoff, R. (2002). Foundations of Language. NY: OUP. p. 362. Johnson, M. (1987). The Body in the Mind. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. 357

Lakoﬕ, G. (1987). Women, Fre, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal About the Mind. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Lakoﬕ, G. & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Lakoﬕ, G. & Johnson, M. (1999). Philosophy in the Fesh: The Embodied Mind and Its Challenge to Western Thought. New York: Basic Books. Langacker, R. (1987). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar (vol. 1). Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R. (1991a). Concept, Image and Symbol. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Langacker, R. (1991b). Foundations of Cognitive Grammar (vol. 11). Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R. (1999). Grammar and Conceptualization. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Langacker, R. W. (2008). Cognitive Grammar: A Basic Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Matlock, T. (2004). Fictive motion as cognitive simulation. Memory and Cognition. 32, pp. 1389–1400. Retrieved October 6, 2012, from http://faculty.ucmerced.edu/tmatlock/papers/ paper-FM-cogsim-publication.pdf Matlock, T. (2010). Abstract motion is no longer abstract. Language and Cognition, 2, pp. 243–260. Retrieved October 6, 2012, from http://faculty. ucmerced.edu/tmatlock/papers/paper-Matlock-abstract-motion-langcogproofs-1.pdf Matsumoto, Y. (1996). Subjective motion and English and Japanese verbs. Cognitive Linguistics, 7(2), pp. 183–226. Rojo, A. & J. Valenzuela. (2003). Fictive motion in English and Spanish. International Journal of English Studies 3. (pp. 123–150). Retrieved August 15, 2013, from http://www.um.es/lincoing/jv/2009FictiveMotioninSpanish-Valenzuela &Rojo.pdf Sweetser, E. (1997). Role and individual readings of change predicates. In J. Nuyts and E. Pederson. (Eds.). Language and Conceptualization, Oxford University Press. Retrieved July 20, 2014, from http://linguistics.berkeley. edu/~sweetser/Sweetser_1997.roles.pdf Talmy, L. (1983). How language structures space. In Herbert L. Pick, Jr. & Linda P. Acredolo (Eds.). Spatial orientation: Theory, research, and application. New 358

York: Plenum Press. Retrieved August 15, 2013, from http://wings.buffalo. edu/linguistics/people/faculty/talmy/talmyweb/Recent/hampevi.pdf Talmy, L. (1996) Fictive Motion in Language and ‘Ception’. In M.A. Peterson, L. Nadel, & M.F. Garrett (Eds.). Language and Space. (pp. 211–276). Cambridge (MA): MIT Press. Talmy, L. (2000). Toward a Cognitive Semantics – vol. 1. & 2. Cambridge (Mass): The MIT Press. Waliński, J. T. (2014). Atemporality of Coextension Paths. In B. LewandowskaTomaszczyk & K. Kosecki (Eds.), Time and Temporality in Language and Human Experience (pp. 103–119). Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Wychorska, E. (2010). Dreams and Metaphors; Concrete vs. Abstract. (Doctoral dissertation). UG. Gdańsk. Poland.

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Magdalena Zyga Uniwersytet Szczeciński, Poland

Conceptual-linguistic creativity in poetic texts as a potential source of translation problems1 Abstract The aim of the paper is a translatological analysis of selected poems and song lyrics in an attempt to put under further examination the feasibility of applying the 5-step model proposed by Zyga (2010) to texts containing atypical conceptualizations and/or creative linguistic manifestations - in the form of e.g. occasional neologisms - of (novel) conceptual metaphors. The theoretical framework for the model, which was initially designed to help translators deal with the problem of ambiguities in literary texts, is constituted by the Theory of Translatorical Maximalism [Teoria Maksymalizmu Translatorskiego] advocated by Barańczak (2004), as well as cognitive poetics and cognitive approach to translation as postulated by M. H. Freeman (2000, 2006). The text subject to analysis are two German poems Psalm by Paul Celan and Weltflucht by Else Lasker-Schüler, as well as song lyrics in English: I follow rivers by Lykke Li and Midnight sun by Manic Street Preachers. We posit that the problems which might occur in the process of translation of the afore-mentioned texts into Polish and English or German can be addressed and effectively solved – at least to a large extent – if the 5-step model is applied and necessary adjustments contingent upon the source and target language are made. Keywords translation studies; cognitive linguistics; literary texts

1.╇Introduction Poems and song lyrics can captivate the reader/listener by inventive use of language or/and by evoking unusual images in our minds. As a result, such creatively shaped texts can pose a challenge for a translator. The aim of the paper is to present a translatological analysis of selected poems and song lyrics containing atypical conceptualizations or novel conceptual metaphors and/or include creative linguistic manifestations of concepts. The analysis presented 1 Proofread by William Cope.

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here shall also verify the feasibility of applying the 5-step model of translation suggested by Zyga (2010), the functioning of which was initially presented on the example of a poem containing ambiguities as a rhetorical device.

2.╇ Review of literature Since monographs offering overviews of translation theories in general or of those pertinent to translation of literary/poetic texts (see: e.g. Stolze, 2008) are widely available, we shall mainly focus on the two theories on the basis of which the above-mentioned 5-step model of translation was formulated. We shall also refer to some possibly less known academic papers relevant to the scope of our analysis. In his book Ocalone w tłumaczeniu [Saved in translation] Barańczak presents a theory of translation which he calls Teoria Maksymalizmu Translatorskiego [the Theory of Translatorical Maximalism]. What he postulates is to reduce the number of principles to a minimum to reach maximum effectiveness. Consequently, Barańczak formulates only two rules: “Do not translate poetry into prose“ [Nie tłumacz wiersza na prozę; my translation, M.Z.] and: “Do not translate high-quality poetry into bad-quality poetry” [Nie tłumacz dobrej poezji na złą poezję; my translation, M.Z.] (Barańczak, 2004, p. 33). As we can see, the author believes that the form of a text is of importance, contributes to the meaning of a text, which is compatible with the findings of cognitive linguists. Moreover, he introduces the term ‘semantic dominant’ (dominanta semantyczna) whose scope encompasses the components of a text which play the key role in its understanding, and which have to be kept in its translation. To corroborate his claim that the form of a text can be such a component, that the meaning does not reside only at the level of lexis but also at the level of (text)structure, he gives the example of a poem “Echo in a church” by Edward, Lord of Cherbury. In this poem the imitation of the echo-effect is necessary to understand the poem, to grasp its logic. Therefore, Barańczak maintains that endeavours of a translator to keep the form of the original (especially in case of poems) can help him/her translate faithfully, i.e. can help render the semantic content accurately (Barańczak, 2004, p. 16–32). In order to find the semantic dominant and to translate a text one has to arrive at its meaning first. The article of M. Freeman (2000) about the role of cognitive linguistics in interpreting literary texts begins with an apt statement in this respect: “(…) the defining characteristics of literature is its ability to generate multiple meanings and interpretations” (Freeman, 2000, p. 253). These various – often equally legitimate – readings of one text pose a problem not only for literary scholars but also for a translator, who has to identify possible interpretations of a given text and choose one of them. Freeman points out an interesting solution to 362

the problem of (re-)construction of what can be referred to as the semantic dominant (Barańczak), an overarching schema (see: Semino, 1998) or conceptual frame (see: Freeman, 2000, 2006). She posits that “literary texts are the products of cognizing minds and their interpretations the products of other cognizing minds” (Freeman, 2000, p. 253). Moreover, the cognitive processes employed in understanding a text are the same as those involved in its creation. Thus, the reader/translator does not necessarily have to study the biography of the author in detail as our human “cognitive principles of embodied understanding” are the same (Freeman, 2000, p. 255). In other words, we base our abstract reasoning on what we experience with our physical body. If we accept this assumption, we can eliminate many readings that can be conceived of by focusing on the text alone. For those that remain, however, we should find ‘a common denominator’, i.e. the reading on the highest abstract system level which sanctions various lower level interpretations (Freeman, 2000, p. 265). Should it be impossible to recreate what Freeman (2006, p. 118) calls “an emergent structure of meaning” in translation, the translator should select one of the possible internally coherent sub-schemas (Freeman, 2006, p. 111, 120). This should be done taking into consideration what is more compatible with our experiential knowledge and our knowledge about other literary works by a given author, especially the conceptual metaphors out of which the conceptual universe of his/her texts was constructed (Freeman, 2006, p. 118–122). It is noteworthy that such approach to translation as postulated by Freeman (2006) is compatible with the definition of translation by Winter (1961, p. 68), which was formulated before the seminal work by Lakoff/Johnson (1980) or the paper by Reddy (1979) marking the beginning of cognitive linguistics: “To translate is to replace the formulation of one interpretation of a segment of the universe around us and within us by another formulation as equivalent as possible”. Moreover, a similar opinion to Freeman’s thesis that for each text there exists a meaning at the highest level of schemacity abstracting away from details which makes various meanings possible (2000, p. 265) and which should be rendered in translation (2006 passim) is voiced by Kubaszczyk (1999). She states, referring to Winter (1961) and Tabakowska (1995), that translation units are not words, phrases or texts but content units or concepts (Kubaszczyk, 1999, p. 80–81) and that “[…] komplexe Konzepte und nicht detaillierte Konzepte vorrangig übersetzt werden” [complex concepts and not detailed concepts have priority in translation] (1999, p. 82). As for the issue of the importance of the language form in translation addressed by Barańczak, the problem of linguistic creativity as linked to the conceptual content of a text is elaborated on by Kubaszczyk in her later article (2007), 363

as well as by Piętkowa (1996), Kozak (2001), Schrodt (2007) or Leinfellner (2007). According to Kubaszczyk, graphostylistic peculiarities, such as incorrect spelling, atypical use of hyphen etc. do not have to be untranslatable if their semantic function is identified (2007, p. 210–216). Similar stance towards the issue is also taken by Piętkowa, who uses the term wizualizacja semantyki [visualization of semantics] (1996, p. 159 et passim) and Kozak, who expresses her views on faktura tekstu [texture of a text] (2001, p. 107 et passim). Schrodt’s and Leinfellner’s opinions that “über die Form Inhalt vermittelt werden kann” [the meaning can be conveyed via the form] (Leinfellner, 2007, p. 17) and that anomalous language forms or a skilled, unconventional use of conventional language can contribute to the content of a literary text (Schrodt, 2007, p. 66; Leinfellner, 2007, p. 34), although made outside the context of translation theory/practice, can be relevant for translation studies as well.

3.╇ Study: method, data presentation and discussion a.╇The method Considering the above-presented theoretical basis, following model of translation has been suggested, whose postulates might not be new but their compilation could be considered so: 1) The analysis of the formal structure of the text i.e. sound and rhythm patterns, rhymes, punctuation, word forms (especially anomalous) such as occasional neologisms, deliberately incorrect grammatical forms; 2) The analysis of syntactic and semantic structure of the poem to identify places of conceptual creativity/ambiguity and possible readings of the poem; 3) The search for emergent image-schematic frame(s) of the poem sanctioning various possible interpretations, which is done by the method of induction; 4) The choice of one frame and, within this frame, other formal features to be kept in translation, using abductive reasoning with the application of inference to the best explanation (Grobler, 2006, p. 102), i.e. defining the semantic dominant (dominanta semantyczna) of the poem; 5) The translation – taking possible sub-frames and limitations of the target language into consideration.

b.╇Data presentation and discussion The texts under analysis are two song lyrics in English, namely I Follow Rivers by Lykke Li and Midnight Sun by Manic Street Preachers, and two poems in German: Weltflucht by Else Lasker-Schüler and Psalm by Paul Celan. In the description of 364

the research results we shall focus on steps 3 and 4 of the afore presented model, as well as present some of the suggestions concerning step 5.

i.╇The analysis: I Follow Rivers The main idea of the text, its emergent schema is the projection of the domain of water in different forms (e.g. river, sea) onto the domain of human relations, especially of love relationship. This projection, however, contains a certain anomaly or asymmetry in that the loved one is likened to a river: “You’re my river running high”, ocean: “Be the ocean”, and sea: “Deep sea baby”, whereas the speaker, the loving one, is presented as a human being: “[…] be the water where I’m wading”. Moreover, the speaker makes use of the verb ‘to unravel’, thereby evoking the conceptual metaphor LIFE IS WOVEN FABRIC, which seems out of place in the context of the overarching image-schematic frame of the text. The importance of this metaphor is fully noticeable only if analysed in the context of the clear rhythmical pattern of the piece. In principle, the text is built according to the pattern 4 + 4 in (almost) each line, in other words: four syllables – pause – four syllables. Only three lines are exempted from this rule. In case of two lines – “You’re my river running high” and “run deep, run wild” – the explanation lies in the change of the melodic line of the song. The fact that the line “Be the ocean, where I unravel” is 9 syllable long and sung unclearly to fit into the music designed for the ‘pattern of 4’, can only be attributed to the intentional character of the conceptual disruption. Hence, the disturbance of the waterframe of the text by the fabric-metaphor clearly constitutes a component of the semantic dominant of the poem. In addition to the above, a yet more salient anomaly – which is either conceptual or linguistic in nature – is evident in the lines “I, I follow, I follow you/Deep sea baby, I follow you”. This fragment suggests that a static entity, i.e. the sea, can and shall be followed. Alternatively, the lines can contain an instance of ellipsis, i.e. what the speaker wishes to express is: “[…] I follow you/[to] deep sea baby”. In our opinion, it would be advantageous to keep this manifestation of conceptual-linguistic creativity, which results in ambiguity, in translation as far as possible. If this, however, proves to be unfeasible, the non-elliptic interpretation – that of following the sea – should be chosen in the light of the unravel-verse revealing a tendency for creativity. Taking into consideration the conclusions above and the limitations of the target languages, German and Polish, we suggest following translatorical solutions. First of all, we suggest to render the phrase “I follow” into Polish as “z tobą” and “podążać chcę” depending on the context, which is motivated by the strive 365

to keep the rhythmical pattern of the song. Hence “[…] can I follow?” becomes “[…] Mogę z tobą?” and “I, I follow, I follow you” becomes “Z tobą, z tobą, podążać chcę”. For the same reason we choose the non-elliptic, conceptually innovative interpretation of the continuation of the latter line “Deep sea baby, I follow you”, which is to be translated as “Głębio morza, podążac chcę” into Polish and as “Tiefe See, dir folge ich” into German.

ii.╇The analysis: Midnight Sun The most abstract highest-level frame organizing the conceptual content of the text is the interplay of light and darkness, also functioning as source domains, not only and definitely not predominantly in the metaphors EVIL IS DARKNESS and GOODNESS IS LIGHT. Within the main conceptual schema of the lyrics we can, moreover, find multi-layered projections, such as the one from the domain CYCLE OF THE DAY onto THE CYCLE OF LIFE, which can be seen as a concretization of the metaphor LIFE IS A CYCLE. What is more, LIFE is also conceptualized as a SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE, which, in turn, is construed as a JOURNEY. It is the accumulation of these projections – alternatively explainable in terms of a complex blend with multiple input spaces – in the lines: “It all ends where it all began/In the shadow of the midnight sun” that is the most problematic fragment in the context of translation. In these verses, besides the co-existence of the darkness, instantiated by the shadow and (mid-)night, with the light, instantiated by the sun, the recipient can also envisage an anomalous image of sun casting a shadow. The highlighting of this coexistence of light and darkness, as well as the conceptual anomaly are key components of the semantic dominant of the song. While the phrase midnight sun and its German equivalent Mitternachtssonne, highlight the same aspects of the phenomenon, in case of the Polish dzień polarny the aspect of the darkness and of thepotential involvement of the sun casting a shadow is faded. Therefore, to keep the original focus on the meeting of the night and day, to maintain the highlighting inherent in the original phrase, it is advisable to use the term biała noc in the Polish translation: “Wszystko się kończy, gdzie zaczęło się/W cieniu słońca w tą białą noc”, although the two terms refer to a slightly different phenomenon. Furthermore, if the title of the song is translated as białe noce, i.e. the singular is transformed into plural, the cycle-metaphor is expressed more clearly.

iii.╇The analysis: Weltflucht [Escape from the world] The German-language poem by Else Lasker-Schüler contains instances of both linguistic and conceptual creativity, which are interconnected in that the former 366

results from or enriches the latter. The organizing frame of the poem is the one of escape, whereby its direction is not outwards but inwards. This ‘inwardness’-idea is given special emphasis in the last line consisting of an occasional neologism “meinwärts” only. Human being is here, surprisingly, not conceptualized as a bounded terrain but as a limitless space, which can be considered an innovation exploiting the target domain override in the invariance principle (Lakoff 1993: 216). The appearance of this conceptualization in the second line introduces a ‘surprise effect’ after the first line, where a will of an escape to a space without boundaries is expressed. The poem also contains an allusion to the metaphor LIFE IS A VEGETATIVE CYCLE. Additionally, the word “Herbstzeitlose” – an instance of an occasional neologism – in the context of the lyrical situation evokes the word “Herbstzeitrose”, which differs in only one phoneme, as well as rhymes with the lexeme “Grenzenlose” from the first line. Another salient mapping is that of the domain of WOVEN FABRIC onto the domain of LIFE. Moreover, this part of the text, where the speaker talks about a tangle and confusion, contains an aggregate of words which taken together imitate noise and thus convey the idea of chaos. As for the conceptual content of the occasional neologism “meinwärts” belonging to the overarching image-schematic frame, it is easier to render into Polish or English than the innovative form of the lexeme. Possible Polish equivalents are rather conventional phrases “wgłąb siebie” or a slightly archaic “ku sobie”, while in English, besides the conventional “in my direction”, one can alternatively use an occasional neologism “my-wards”. The conceptual-linguistic features of the lexemes “Grenzenlose” and “Herbstzeitlose” can pose another challenge. Our suggestion is to translate the former as bezkres and boundlessness or limitlessness or infinity depending on which equivalent we choose for “Herbstzeitlose”, which can be rendered as jesieni-bez and autumnlessness or autumnfree/-dom (the slash indicates the use of run-on line). While the Polish occasional neologism encompasses both conceptual and linguistic specificity of the original word, the English ones fail to include the floral allusion. Nonetheless, the presence of the metaphor LIFE IS A VEGETATIVE CYCLE is maintained, as well as the creative use of the word-formation potential. Hence, since infinity and autumnfree/-dom seem to have best sound qualities – in contrast to the rather awkward boundlessness, limitlessness or autumnlessness – they should be chosen by the translator. What is more, the use of run-on line harmonizes with the conceptual ‘surprise effect’ of the second line introducing the conceptualization of human as boundless entity. Yet, a more challenging part of the poem is the one evoking the fabric-metaphor at the same time imitating noise. It seems that in both Polish and English 367

translation it impossible to keep the superposition of the concept of weaving and the aspect of noise. Thus, in Polish the translation could be either: “Przędzę chcę osnuć wokół siebie/Kończąc plątaninę/Waszej gmatwaninie/I motaninie/ Ujść” or “Przędzę chcę osnuć wokół siebie/Kończąc furkot/Waszemu stukotowi/I furkotowi/Ujść”. The lines could be rendered into English as: “Threads I want to spin around me/Ending my tangle/Ravelling/Entangling you/To flee” or “Threads I want to spin around me/Unravelling/Leaving you whirr/And stir/To flee”. Since in our opinion both the fabric-metaphor and sound qualities are conceptually linked to the domain of abstract CHAOS, we believe that the consistent preservation of the weaving-aspect – and thus the choice of the options quoted as first in both target languages – is more advisable as resulting in a lesser loss.

iv.╇The analysis: Psalm The overarching schema organizing the whole language and conceptual structure of the poem by Celan is that of affirmation by rejection/negation. This frame is, furthermore, based on the idea of superposition of states taken from physics. In other words, in the universe of the poem God at the same time exists and does not exist. Human being, in turn, is likened to a rose, and thereby the metaphor LIFE IS A VEGETATIVE CYCLE is exploited. The conceptuallinguistic creativity is also visible in the use of a manoeuvre that could be called ‘ambiguity effect’, with which the poem actually starts. Having read three first verses of the text from which can be inferred that God – referred to as “Niemand” [No one] – does not exist, the reader encounters the fourth line in the light of which his/her initial inference has to be reviewed since existence is a precondition for being blessed: “Gelobt seist du, Niemand” [Blessed art thou, No one]. Another ambiguity is contained in the word “Krone”, which in the context of the poem can either denote a crown (of thorns as worn by Christ) or corolla (part of a flower). The poem also includes two occasional neologisms: “seelenhell” and “himmelswüst”, whose form, however, can be considered quite conventionally exploiting the ‘agglunating’ potential of German. The above-mentioned instance of conceptual creativity which is constructed with the aid of (grammatical) negation is significantly more difficult to translate into Polish than into English owing to the fact that in Polish double negation is employed. However, if the three initial verses include double negation, like “nikt nie lepi”, to express non-existence (as in the translations by Barańczak (1998) or Przybylak (1998)), they do not become affirmative after the revision and (mental) substitution of the word “nikt” with “Bóg” due to the fourth verse. Yet, 368

if they contain no negation in Polish (as in the translation by Krynicki (2013)), the overarching schema and the ambiguity effect disappear. Therefore, our suggestion is to translate the indicative sentences as questions: “Czy nikt nie lepi nas […]?” and “Czy nikt nie przywołuje naszego prochu?” to retain the indeterminableness of God’s existence and actions. With respect to the word “Krone”, the translation of its apparently intended multifaceted conceptual content is more difficult with English as the target language. In John Felstiner’s (2013) rendering of the poem the specialist lexeme “corona”, stemming from the terminology of botany or astronomy, is used. Hence, the result is the loss of possible association with the crown of thorns, which could be avoided if the phrase “crown of petals” is chosen instead. As for the translations of the two aforementioned occasional neologisms creatively joining the concepts of soul and brightness as well as those of heaven and emptiness/desert, all the translators in both target languages managed to render the content of the words at the most abstract/schematic level. The form, however, had to be changed in Polish due differences in the word formation potential of German and Polish, which results in a reduction of the lexemes’ inherent interpretive uncertainty.

4.╇Conclusions In the light of the case studies presented above, it seems that creative conceptualizations – such as the idea of following a see or human being as a boundless entity – are easier to render into a foreign language that innovative language forms (e.g. occasional neologisms) or creative structuring of a text – such as the ‘ambiguity effect’ in Celan’s poem triggered by the fourth verse. Furthermore, in poetic texts a translator can experience difficulties when attempting to render a (creative) highlighting of elements of a (complex) concept, even if the concept as a whole has an equivalent linguistic manifestation in the target language. Such challenge can be observed e.g. in case of the concept and the phrase ‘midnight sun’ in the eponymous lyrics. The phrase ‘dzień polarny’ does not allow for equivalent highlighting as in the original text. The analysis also proves that the proposed 5-step model facilitates fuller understanding of a text and a conscious choice of translational possibilities.

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