A word I learned from my late wife Marianne, and which she used quite frequently in her everyday discourse, is the verb ‘pullulate’, defined in full by the OED as follows:
- trans. To engender, bring into existence; to cause to spring up abundantly or multiply. Now rare.
a.To be developed or produced as offspring; to spring up abundantly, multiply.
b. To teem, swarm. Freq. with with.
a. Of a seed, plant, etc.: to germinate, to put out shoots or buds. Obs.
b. Of a bud, shoot, propagule, etc.: to appear; to sprout, grow. Obs.
- intr. Med. To develop growths; to proliferate. Obs. rare.
- intr. Of a cell or animal, esp. a pathogenic organism: to breed, multiply; to reproduce prolifically.
pullulating adj. budding, sprouting, flourishing.
Origin: A borrowing from Latin. Etymons: Latin pullulāt-, pullulāre.Etymology: < classical Latin pullulāt-, past participial stem (see -ate suffix3) of pullulāre to send forth new growth, to sprout, to sprout out, spring forth < pullulus young nestling or chick, young shoot or sprout < pullus young of any animal, chick (see pull n.2) + -ulus -ulus suffix. Compare French pulluler (c1350 in Middle French in sense 2a, first half of the 15th cent. in sense 3b, end of the 15th cent. in sense 2b; the transitive use in sense 1 is apparently not paralleled in French before 1764), Italian pullulare (1313).
Marianne (petnames Mooyin, Mumpkin) used it most often in meaning 2b and in the derivative adjective. Here is a paragraph containing the word as used by me in a recent e-mail message from Cali (Colombia), where I stayed for a week and reported on what I observed:
“The people here have been extremely nice and welcoming. The sponsor [of my lecture], Universidad del Valle, put me up in a first-class hotel and paid all my other trip expenses. Especially memorable was an iguana I saw at the University’s park yesterday. A truly splendid creature! The city is pullulating with people and animals and vegetation.”
As I wrote the sentence with ‘pulluate’, I thought of my Mooyin––as always––and of her beautiful speech.
Speakers of Standard American English, perhaps more often than speakers of any other European standard, make grammatical errors that are clearly not lapsus linguae (slips of the tongue). Nowhere is this more evident than in the government of verbs and adjectives, where the prepositional complements are frequently being confused, particularly for, with, and to. This was glaringly observed in the mistakes made today by interviewees on the NPR program “Morning Edition” on National Public Radio.
One such mistake was *rife for instead of the correct rife with; the other was *complying to instead of complying with. That any adult native speaker of contemporary American English can commit such grammatical errors testifies not only to what is called imperfect learning but to a fundamental lacuna in their command of the language. Since the speakers sounded on the young side, these mistakes––which could be multiplied manyfold in public oral discourse––can only be attributed to insufficient experience with the written word and a near-ubiquitous reliance on social media, which by their very nature promote frequent heedless neglect of the rules of grammar.
When language is (properly) understood as part of nature and not merely as a tissue of conventions, the explanatory power of Peirce’s synechism––his theory of continuity––becomes overwhelmingly apparent. Peirce’s 1892 lecture, “The Logic of Continuity” (reproduced in Reasoning and the Logic of Things [Cambridge, Mass: Harvard UP, 1992, pp. 242-68]), stresses the relation between continuity, generality, and habit:
Habit is a generalizing tendency, and as such a generalization, and as such a general, and as such a continuum or continuity. It must have its origin in the original continuity which is inherent in potentiality. Continuity, as generality, is inherent in potentiality, which is essentially general [p. 262].
In my own understanding of continuity/synechism that I’ve been trying to apply to language for the purposes of my talks in Colombia later this month, I emphasize what might be called ‘meaning as a preexistent continuum’ rather than what we “make” of things and events alone. In this vein, meaning is both the empirical result of what we make of the world and what “always already” surrounds and pours in on us (the semiotic web?). This idea then necessarily brings up the distinction (opposition?) between the virtual and the actual. Any Thirdness (or law) must be able to specify the relation between what is and could be, and what could be is only limited practically by what was. This is where history (and experience) come in, and the acknowledgment of the “real presence” (as inexcludable from either perception or inference) of history is what makes judgments both verifiable and ground-ed/-able. With reference to language and its use specifically, there is no such thing as being able to speak a language without the necessary, implicit presence of the time axis (history) in every utterance of one’s own and in every understanding of the utterances of others. (Parenthetically, the whole argument about subjunctives and conditionals in Peirce’s statement of the Pragmatic Maxim both as to origins and to effects will always be deficient unless it explicitly recognizes the necessary presence of the historical dimension in both thought and action.)
The only point that needs to be expanded is the one that bears on the opposition––more properly, the contrast–– between virtual and actual. Every linguistic form and series of forms in utterances is actual but has a virtual set of alternatives as a backdrop (= the system of relations that make up the structure of a given language). In language the historical tendency is to take contrary relations (= contrasts) and make them into contradictory relations (= binary oppositions). The system of relations is a continuum made up of relational singularities, and these singularities are what is manifested in speech.
As to the historical dimension, one can say that every human act, not just involving language, occurs as a singularity backdropped by a continuum that is the pool of possible acts. Every present fact is the cumulative result of past facts of the same genus. Innovation––in language as elsewhere in nature–– occurs only against the backdrop of preexistent possibilities.
In a joint campaign appearance yesterday with Hillary Clinton, Michelle Obama used the word “embracing” as an adjective describing Mrs. Clinton’s relationship to Mrs. Obama. Now, this is an unusual––and apparently nonce––instance of a present active participle (< v. embrace) functioning as an adjective. Merriam-Webster Unabridged Online lists it as meaning “encircling, enclosing: such as a: of a leaf : having the base clasped about the supporting stem of the plant; b: comprehensive, inclusive.” It is clear that Mrs. Obama’s particular use of the word has embraced a function that is implicit in English but generally not recognized formally (e. g., in dictionaries) as part of the norm.
As Henning Andersen sets out in his far-ranging and definitive discussion of the concept of norm as applied to language, “the notion of language norms has played an important role in practical (‘applied’) linguistics since antiquity and in linguistic theorizing since the 1800s” (“Living Norms,” From Poets to Padonki: Linguistic Authority and Norm-Negotiation in Modern Russian Culture, ed. I. Lunde and M. Paulsen, Slavica Bergensia, 9 [Bergen: University of Bergen], 2009, p. 18). He goes on to distinguish between what he terms “declarative” and “deontic” norms, under which headings a further distinction is made between “explicit” and “implicit” norms. “Living norms” are then called “implicit deontic norms.”
When a speaker makes up a word that is perfectly understandable and in conformity with the morphological rules of the language, they are not contravening any norm, except perhaps the “statistical” one that is based on hitherto observed language usage. No native speaker of American English would characterize Michelle Obama’s use of embracing as a pure adjective (derived, to be sure, from the verb embrace) as ungrammatical and would moreover, if questioned, agree with the observation that her word choice was perfectly in the spirit of creative exploitation of the language’s inherent norms, alias its implicit deontic norms.
Today is the Jewish Day of Atonement, which in Hebrew is Yom Kippur (יום כיפור), with the stress on the second syllable of the second word. This is the stress that people in America have adopted ever since the so-called Yom Kippur War, which began when the Arabs launched a surprise attack in October 1973 on Israeli positions in the Israeli-occupied territories on Yom Kippur, the holiest day in Judaism.
Jews and Gentiles in America had theretofore conventionally pronounced Kippur with stress on the initial syllable, the stress in Yiddish, reflecting the Ashkenazic habit of retracting all stress in Hebrew disyllables onto the initial by comparison with the Sephardic pronunciation. For those in the know, this Yiddishized stress made the word sound the same as the English word kipper ‘a name given to the male salmon (or sea trout) during the spawning season’ (OED [“of uncertain etymology”]). The enormous publicity attending the Yom Kippur War gave pervasive currency to the Sephardic stress and all but obliterated the Ashkenazic one as far as American English was concerned, a situation lasting to this day.
American English, by contrast with British English, is prone to adopt in loan words, especially nomina propria, what is perceived to be “authentic,” hence the latter-day change in the second vowel of items such as Iraq and Iran from the traditional flat vowel to the current pervasive broad one.
Apropos of the Day of Atonement, when having nothing to atone for, one remembers Y-H-B’s father (who could read the Bible in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin) admonishing his son that the most important thing for a Jew to have is lev tov לב טוב ‘a good heart’.
The OED defines the adjective ‘indecorous’ as ‘contrary to, or wanting, decorum or propriety of behaviour; in bad taste’. This word came to mind when Y-H-B was eating breakfast at Up for Breakfast in Manchester Center, Vermont, as is his wont whenever he is in Vermont on a Sunday. Mind you, this word was unearthed from his memory in inner speech––all thought being in language––while recalling a meal in Manhattan some years ago, to which he had invited a couple from Los Angeles. They had asked whether they could bring a friend with them, and Y-H-B ended up paying for her as well as the couple because he thought at the time that it would be indecorous to ask the friend to pay for herself, once she had joined them for the meal.
Decorum is not limited to the behavior of others. In evaluating one’s own behavior, propriety as a criterion naturally obtains in all spheres, including the treatment of strangers.
The coming to prominence of the adjective as a part of speech in contemporary English is associated with the flood of items like the recent ‘food-insecure’ or the earlier ‘doctor-tested’ wherein a noun is followed by a postposed adjective to form a (hyphenated) compound word deriving from a syntactic construction with different word order, as in “insecure as to food” or “tested by doctors.”
The prevalence of this type of compound adjective with an embedded adjective can be ascribed to the general avoidance—notably, in modern advertising language—of circumlocution, defined as ‘the use of an unnecessarily large number of words to express an idea; indirect or roundabout expression’. Advertising language always puts a premium on ECONOMY OF FORM in order to achieve concision and pithiness (‘catchiness’) in the service of its aim.
The incursion of linguistic gambits originating in the jargon of advertising says much about the nature of thought and discourse in the modern world as defined by the globalization of English as the contemporary lingua franca. This innovation is (nota bene) in perfect alignment with modern usage––unique to English––involving the verbs ‘buy’ and ‘sell’ in their transferred meanings, resp. ‘accept’ and ‘advocate’, imported from economics and the exchange of goods.
The phenomenon known as “uptalk,” by which is meant the use of interrogative intonation in declarative clauses, has become thoroughly incorporated into the speech of (mostly younger) American females and some males but has not typically been noted for British English. However, on the evidence provided by the speech of a young female doctor being interviewed this morning about her research on the BBC (Dr. Michelle Beaumont, King’s College London) makes it abundantly clear that RP (the so-called “Received Pronunciation,” which is the British standard) is no longer immune to the penetration of uptalk. As in American English, this new intonation is used by females who wish to make a declarative statement while simultaneously conceding to their interlocutors that (1) the content of their assertion is subject to doubt or disproof; and (2) the interlocutor is invited to only tentatively or provisionally entertain its veracity.
Idioms in all languages are typically univocal as to form. If English has ‘kick the bucket’ with its idiomatic transferred meaning of dying, then there is no latitude for speakers to change ‘bucket’ to ‘pail’ (or any other synonym for that matter). However, when idioms first enter a language, some variation may occur, whereby one or another synonymous element is substituted for the authentic version.
This has happened in recent American English with the idiomatic phrase ‘get/wrap one’s head around’, meaning ‘understand with some difficulty’, such that speakers frequently replace ‘head’ with ‘brain’ or ‘mind’. These substitutions ought to be ruled out of court for one fundamental reason: they are the result of a misconstrual of the stylistic link between the verb and the direct object. Both ‘get’ and ‘wrap’ are words from the common (non-elevated) stratum of English vocabulary, whereas neither ‘brain’ nor ‘mind’ is. Speakers who alter the idiom by changing the stylistic level of its verbal complement are thus guilty of linguistic misprision.
Since living in Manhattan (unlike Los Angeles, to take a marked contrast) necessarily involves walking, Y-H-B often finds himself perambulating in his neighborhood and observing the pedestrian scene, including that of miscellaneous persons walking their dogs. These canines, in their turn, swivel about on their leashes and, whenever possible, engage each other through reciprocal barks, sniffing of hind quarters, and other untoward behavior. These sidewalk encounters typically cannot be obviated by human walkers, intruding willy nilly as they are wont to do on one’s consciousness as well as on one’s private space.
This morning an encounter of just this sort provoked the disinterment of a very pithy Russian proverb in Y-H-B’s brain, to wit: свои собаки грызутся, чужая не приставай, literally meaning ‘if someone else’s dogs are nipping at [squabbling/quarreling with] each other, one’s own [dog] oughtn’t pester [= mix in]’. This proverb also happens to be the title of one of the most prominent Russian dramatist A. N. Ostrovsky’s plays (1861, subtitled “Pictures of Moscow Life”). The transferred meaning of the proverb is: ‘stay clear of other people’s quarrels’. Good advice.