Showing posts with label historical linguistics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label historical linguistics. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 January 2023

Etymology

There are two related themes in this series of blogs: the origin of our words and the interpretation of ancient texts. The relation is rather apparent. One needs to understand its words to interpret a classical text, or indeed any text. Unfortunately, the understanding of individual terms depends on the interpretation of texts. It is a vicious circle: misunderstanding of the context leads to a wrong interpretation of words, and an erroneous interpretation of words leads to a worse misunderstanding of the story. We need a method to analyse the semantics of words independently of their context. The context should only serve to validate our hypotheses.

Figure 1. Diagram showing relationships between etymologically related words. Etymology is the study of the history of the form of words and, by extension, the origin and evolution of their semantic meaning across time. It is a sub-field of historical linguistics and draws upon comparative semantics, morphology, semiotics, and phonetics. From Wikipedia, accessed 17 January 2023. Artwork by Nimic86. Creative Commons license.

Scholars observe the evolution of words within and between languages; they examine the contexts in which various authors use them and derive a theory about their meaning or meanings. Taking account of the chronological order in which variants appear, we can reconstruct a word's evolution. We can record its current spellings in various languages, its previous spellings, its contemporary meanings, its prior meanings, and its relations with other words, both within and across languages. This sort of exercise is called etymology (Fig. 1). Once an etymology of a word gets established, we consider having understood all its meanings and facets. We can then interpret the phrases where it appears safely – provided, of course, that we know the other words as well – and we can use them confidently to express our thoughts, at least in theory.

The trouble is that only a handful of words from a handful of languages have established etymologies. Most etymologies are still uncertain, incomplete, anecdotal, or downright missing. Even those etymologies that trace a term down to its root in a proto-language – i.e., an ancient hypothetical common ancestor of languages, itself without written records – remain hypothetical and, worse, theoretically or practically untestable. They are untestable because a proto-language has, by definition, no written history. A proto-language is a theoretical construct. It is a prediction of an etymological theory.

There is a slight contradiction here which we must clarify. The proponents of etymology with roots in a proto-language cannot assume that the proto-language left no written records. If they did think so, their theory would be metaphysical (non-falsifiable in principle) rather than scientific (Popper 1985). They would be making a prediction that they know from the start is, in principle, impossible to falsify. It would be a 'believe me, I am telling you the absolute truth' situation. We are only allowed to assume that the proto-language did leave records that someone can, in principle, find one day.

Consider the unlikely event that one discovers an ancient document containing a word root predicted from some etymological theory. Such a discovery could validate the argument about that root, but it would not automatically verify other hypothetical sources not found in the document. Other predictions would remain hypothetical and unfalsifiable even if the proto-language were proven to have existed. Here comes a practical issue. No one can expect to validate the proposed proto-language roots and the derived etymologies in one's lifetime. Therefore, although scientific may be under certain assumptions, the current etymological theory could be more practical. We need a different approach or a different method of analysis that could make testable and falsifiable predictions on existing written records here and now.

Another concern is about the usefulness and the use of current etymological theory. What is the use of knowing that the English word water[1] comes from the Proto-Germanic *watōr[2] (water) and ultimately from PIE *wódr̥ (water)? Does the knowledge of the hypothetical root *wódr̥ help us understand better the word water? Does it give us any indication about the PIE culture or about how the PIEs perceived the natural element called water? Does it explain the difference between a lake, a river, a stream source, the sea, hydrogen oxide, the Pontus, and the ocean? Or, why do those words not derive from *wódr̥? With increasing frequency, etymological research and linguistic theory have recently developed in parallel with genetic studies of populations. It seems as though the central concern of linguistics has shifted from the understanding of language as a human trait to the study of historical population migrations. Yet, paradoxically, words and genes are not transmitted similarly.

But who cares about etymology? If one explains the meaning of a word and its correct spelling, then we can all use that word in its conventional sense and understand it when we see it written. Besides, by reading a lot of texts and accumulating lexical experience, the human brain can do the etymological work unconsciously. Moreover, whenever we encounter an unknown word, we can check it out on the internet, where we can have all its textual and visual contexts. True! This book is not concerned about modern words that everybody, or at least every native speaker of a language, understands. Knowing the etymology of modern words may amuse the general public and induce scientific interest, but it has no impact on our mutual understanding. Although modern words are frequently used here to generate and validate hypotheses, the primary subject matter is ancient words, which we have misunderstood. Some keywords open the doors to vast human history and ancient cultural spaces. Unfortunately, we attribute religious and supernatural content to everything we do not understand. We also tend to take ancient texts literally. Misinterpretations and arbitrary views have propagated for millennia leading to a completely distorted perception of our past.

Take the word myth, for example. Do you believe a myth is fictitious, like a fairy tale or allegory? Is it a true story like the news we hear and cross-validate from official news agencies? Is it a false story that sounds true, like realist literature or cinema? Is it a true story that seems fictitious? In the latter case, an actual event inspires the author, who changes the names, places, and other elements so that it is impossible to recognise the fact of the story's origin. One's understanding of the word myth will determine their attitude vis-à-vis mythology and the culture of our ancestors.

 

References

Popper, Karl. 1985. Popper Selections. Edited by David W Miller. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.


 


[1] I use Italics for words that should not be translated or modified because they form part of the analysed data.

[2] An initial asterisk indicates that the following word or letter sequence is hypothetical.

On the origin of words

The prevailing theories of historical linguistics are phonocentric. Most scholars consider speech inherently superior to, or more primary than, written language. Spoken language is regarded as a socio-biological character of mankind that evolved and developed spontaneously long before writing. Accordingly, the letters are only graphical representations of spoken sounds. The words are letters assembled solely to reproduce a phonetic signifier chosen for a signified object (including abstract concepts, actions, etc.). The choice of a phonetic sign for an object is said to be 'arbitrary' or 'conventional' (Saussure & Baskin, 1959). A typical example of a phonocentric methodology is the reconstruction of a hypothetical Proto-Indo-European (PIE) language (or other proto-languages) from which modern languages supposedly descend (Mallory & Adams, 2006). Theorists consider the attested phonetic evolution (always deduced with phonocentrism in mind) but generally neglect any simultaneous semantic development that may have occurred during millennia. Instead of following the direction of the natural process, i.e., one that starts from attested ancient roots and finishes with modern cognates, we invent unattested ancient roots starting from presumed meanings of presumed cognates. We understand classical poets and their myths projecting our current perceptions and ideas onto their words.

The PIE theory is based on the hypothesis that languages have a common ancestor. Reconstruction of this common ancestor does not constitute proof that languages have a common ancestor. That would be a fallacy of circular reasoning. The phonocentric PIE model is an analogy of genetics but not a good analogy. Genes and genomes are transmitted vertically, from generation to generation, and cannot be created de novo. Words and languages are transmitted only horizontally, from individual to individual, from society to society. Anyone can create them at any place and time. The PIE theory remains hypothetical. An alternative hypothesis is that languages are multifocal, like towns. They are designed like other technological products using signs and radiate by social contact in no time.

The phonocentric way of thinking leads to an impasse. That speech existed before writing is an unfalsifiable hypothesis because, obviously, there are no ancient speech records. Spoken languages without writing exist today but are extremely limited in structure and function. They have nothing to do with civilisation, as we define it, and can be explained as remains of once-written languages. The notion of arbitrariness of linguistic signs bespeaks the difficulty of explaining the name of an object in phonetic terms. It is also incapable of generating testable predictions for validation. In practice, 'arbitrary' means random, unknowable, inexplicable, or metaphysical. For example, Proto-Indo-Europeans (PIEs) called the water *wódr because they liked it, so it happened! There can be no scientific demonstration of the relation between the sound of *wódr, and the actual object, the water, whatever 'water' may mean. There is no prediction as to what form of water *wódr referred to or why the ancients chose this name against all other possibilities. Without scientific predictability and discrimination, etymological propositions for the same word accumulate. In the best case, the derived root depends on the set of cognates taken at the start. Scientific-like hypotheses differ from folk etymologies only in terms of complexity, likelihood, or elegance but are just as speculative and subjective.

There is a radically new proposition about language. At least in Greek and English, all words are iconic. Based on this hypothesis, we can analyse Ancient Greek names and understand, at last, the hidden meaning of Ancient Greek myths and epic poetry. The theory consists of the following principles.

Graphemes (letters) are iconic. They lend their form as elementary pictograms. A circle primarily means a circle, a straight line is a straight line, A is an angular object half-closed, half-open, W is a wave-like zigzag, M is like a mountain skyline, and so on. Letters are viewed as combinations of sub-literal elements (strokes) I = |, H = |-|, N = /\/, M = /\/\, P = ), ‘ = (, archaic Gamma = >, archaic Lambda = <, K = |<, X = ><, E = <-, etc. I call this principle ichnography[1]. All Archaic and Classical Greek letters have their exact counterparts in Cretan hieroglyphics (Godart & Olivier, 1996) and Linear A signs (Salgarella & Castellan, 2021), ultimately traced to Neolithic Balkan and Armenian signs from the 8th millennium BC on, which are mostly considered pictograms (Facorellis et al., 2014The Inventory of the Danube Script (DS), n.d.Vahanyan & Vahanyan, 2009).

Consequently, graphemes carry meaning associated with their form. They can be used in the names of objects (signifiers) to specify some morphological, structural, or functional characteristics of the named objects (signified). The meanings of a letter can be deduced by the minimal semantic pairing of words that differ only by that letter. For example, the Homeric ἰός (ios; IOS) means dart, and ἤιος (ēiosHIOS) means far-darting; therefore, H means far, at least in this context. Once the sememes behind each letter are thus identified and validated in other contexts, we can apply semantic reading on untranslated words from ancient texts currently taken as proper names (theonyms, toponyms, personal names, heroes, mythological objects, etc.). In Semitic languages, O is called 'ayin (eye) because the eye is the only visible, truly circular object in the human body that everybody is aware of; it can, therefore, serve as a prototype of a circle. We can trace semantic oppositions between letters. I/O for open/closed (line), I/A for narrow/wide, I/H for long/thick, I/Y for up/down, N/M for movement/up-down movement, Z/S, >/< (G/L), q/p, q/b, q/d, b/p; b/d, P/R, I-I/I< (H/K), ></|< (X/K), M/W, etc. Unlike the common belief, all the Greek letter names mean something in Greek, which exemplifies their primary meaning.

Letter duplication denotes multiplicity, intensity, duration, length, or repetition. Typically, in English, a hammer is a tool that repeatedly moves up and down and requires effort (instinctive /mmm.../). Some graphemes represent duplication or extension of other graphemes, U (V) / UU (W), I/H, /Z, O/Ω. In Greek, double graphemes do not duplicate further. One form of duplication is the aspiration, which is suggested by adding the grapheme for length, H. Aspiration differs from duplication as the continuous differs from the discrete. Digraphs, diphthongs, and diacritics are analogous to Egyptian hieroglyphic determinants. An adjacent letter, or a diacritic, specifies the meaning of a letter.

Inversion of letter sequences is used to create antonyms. If BU is the interior of a B-object, i.e., the space occupied by the object, UB is its exterior, its negative space. A letter cluster, represented here by numbers 1-2-3, is frequently an antonym of the inverse cluster, 3-2-1. A different type of antonymy is created when clusters move from the beginning toward the middle or the end of words. Cluster 12 has different meanings in 123456, 341256, or 345612. One of the most spectacular examples is the French words niquer (pattern: 123456; to nick) and requin (653421; shark). The animal opens its mouth and allows its prey (victim) to get in. The hollow object (qu) with a hole is the beneficiary. We find the stem in at the end of the term requinNiquer means to open a hole in an object by impact. The hollow object with a hole here is the victim. The cluster moves to the front and is inversed. Palindromic or otherwise symmetrical words are made for symmetrical objects.

Words are formed by simple agglutination of semantic units (123 + 456 = 123456) or, more sophisticatedly, by running semantics: 123456 = 123 + 234 + 345 + 456. Following this model, Homer (Ὅμηρος'omēros; 'OMHROS) is not a person but an educational subject matter: writing. The stem 'om initiates words meaning to unite (ὁμόω'om), put together, along with, close to, at the same place, (ὁμοῦ'omoy), alike, likewise, like, equally with (ὁμῶς'omōs). The stem 'omē exists as an independent word, ὁμῆ, meaning common, joint, united, with a sense of articulation. Continuing rightwards, we read mēr for thigh bones, legs (μηρίαmēria), furl, wind up, weave, twine (μηρύομαιmēryomai), cord, line, string (μήρινθοςmērinthos), that which is drawn out, strand, a coil or trail (μήρυμα (mēryma). Finally, ēr is found in ἦρα (ēra), marking summarisation, expansion, or realisation of previous thought. The ending -os is an extremely common morpheme meaning the thing which.

Thus, 'omēros (Homer) is the thing (-os) about putting together, joining, articulating similar elements, weaving, furling, and twining them into a string to summarise, expand, or realise previous ideas. This is linguistic composition. The central H of 'OMHROS (perceived as 'OM|-|ROS) represents a bond between linguistic elements. We know that 'omēros is about writing because inverse reading produces the stem rēm (inversion of mēr), which is about speech. It forms the words ῥῆμα (rēma), that which is said or spoken, saying, phrase, subject of speech, verb, and ῥήμων (rēmōn), public speaker, one who gives sentence, judge, advocate, teacher of eloquence, rhetorician. It is unlikely that a person named Homer became famous for doing exactly what 'his' name meant. The name or title was more likely applied a posteriori to describe the work's subject matter.

Even the ros of 'omēros is informative. It only starts one attested Ancient Greek word, ῥοσᾶτον (rosaton), glossed as equivalent to Latin rosatum, containing or made of roses, perhaps, like a rose. The current phonocentric etymologies of rose and its cognates are complex and built upon several untestable hypotheses[2]. Yet, they do not explain what rose primarily means and why the flower was called so. At a sole glance, a rose (Fig. 1A) displays its characteristic 123+234+… pattern of its overlapping petals. Another independent English word using ros is rosary (Fig. 2B). Here, we see the articulation of units. Fuller genuine cognates of Homer ('omēros; 'OMHROS) and of its Doric version Homar ('omaros; 'OMAROS), where H is typically converted to A, are the cognates of French homard, for lobster (Fig. 3C). The animals of this family are characterised by their articulate carapace.



Figure 1A: A rose (flower). Artwork by Peggy Greb (USDA-ARS)B: Rosary beads. Artwork by anonymousCNephropsis rosea (pictured) and similar lobsters of the genus Homarus are known in French as homard. They belong to the subphylum Crustacea. Artwork by SEFSC Pascagoula Laboratory; Collection of Brandi Noble, NOAA/NMFS/SEFSC. All images are marked as public domain.

The consequences of this graphocentric theory of language are tremendous. The usual theological interpretation of ancient texts has long impaired our understanding. If Homer does mean linguistic composition and word-making, we should re-interpret every hero of the Iliad and the Odyssey. The Iliad is about exact measurement, market rules, offer and demand, fixing the right price, and the 'war' between producers, distributors, and consumers. The Odyssey is about the various uses of tap water (other than drinking) before it disappears in the flush toilet (Ithaca). Both works were written from scratch as textbooks. This massive crossword-like exercise could not have been composed without alphabetic writing and could not have existed in oral (Perry, 1933) before it.


Claims

Homer = linguistic articulation, written composition, word-making

H = far, length, elongation


Cognates

Homer: rose, rosary, genus Homarus, French homard, Crustacea


Oppositions

MHR/RHM, HIOS/IOS


References

Facorellis, Y., Sofronidou, M., & Hourmouziadis, G. (2014). Radiocarbon Dating of the Neolithic Lakeside Settlement of Dispilio, Kastoria, Northern Greece. Radiocarbon56(2), 511–528.

Godart, L., & Olivier, J.-P. (1996). Corpus Hieroglyphicarum Inscriptionum Cretae. In Études crétoises (Vol. 31). École française d’Athènes.

Mallory, J. P., & Adams, D. Q. (2006). The Oxford Introduction to Proto-Indo-European and the Proto-Indo-European World. Oxford University Press.

Parry, Milman. 1933. “Whole Formulaic Verses in Greek and Southslavic Heroic Song.” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 64: 179.

Salgarella, E., & Castellan, S. (2021). SigLA: The Signs of Linear~A. A~Palæographical Database. Grapholinguistics in the 21st Century, Part II5, 945–962.

Saussure, F. de, & Baskin, W. (1959). Course in General Linguistics (Charles Bally & Albert Sechehaye, Eds.). The Philosophical Library, Inc.

The Inventory of the Danube Script (DS). (n.d.). Retrieved 20 February 2022.

Vahanyan, G., & Vahanyan, V. (2009). The Intercultural relations between Old Europe and Old Armenia. Papers, XXIII Valcamonica Symposium, Prehistoric and Tribal Art: Making History of Prehistory, the Role of Rock Art, 357–362.


[1] 'Ichnography' (Gr. τὸ ἴχνος, íchnos, 'track, trace' and γράφειν, graphein, 'to write'), pronounced ikh-nog-rəfi, in architecture, is a term defined by Vitruvius (i.2) as the ground plan of the work, i.e., the geometrical projection or horizontal section representing the plan of any building, taken at such a level as to show the outer walls, with the doorways, windows, fireplaces, etc., and the correct thickness of the walls; the position of piers, columns or pilasters, courtyards and other features which constitute the design, as to scale.

[2] Rose in the Online Etymology Dictionary and Wiktionary. Accessed 20 February 2022.