Infantilization of Lexis

December 31, 2009

Up until a certain age American children, like children in other countries, articulate the vocables of their native language in a childish way because their linguistic abilities are commensurate with their physical development in other respects. Whereas until about forty years ago these childish speech patterns were outgrown from pre-adolescence on, it is now typical of the speech of young American women in particular to retain what used to be purely puerile traits into adulthood. This recessive infantilization of language broadly affects the vocal timbre as well as the intonation of female adult speakers, to the point where a young American woman who doesn’t sound like a superannuated child is exceptional. (Those who are familiar with female speech patterns in Japanese will immediately recognize the cross-cultural similarity to the contemporary American situation.) Whether speaking like a child into adulthood is to be reckoned an apotropaic linguistic adaptation, of a piece with other behavioral strategies calculated to forestall conflict, is an open question.

Infantilization can also affect lexis as well as phonetics. The current preference for the Lallwörter (nursery words)  “mom,” “dad,” and “kid” instead of their grownup counterparts “mother,” “father,” and “child” is clearly an example of this phenomenon. With increasing frequency, public speech (both oral and written) refers to “single mom” and “stay-at-home mom” regardless of the stylistic register of the context in which these phrases are embedded. In fact, the media routinely eschew designating parents by their stylistically neutral names. Particularly jarring is the neologism “grandkid,” connoting as it does (regardless of the age of the child) yet another instance of an American cultural tropism toward a state of permanent infantilism––here, tellingly, of both the grandchild AND the grandparent.


Linguistic Solipsism

December 18, 2009

While every language is rife with variation, some variants can only be adjudged to be the wayward product of a kind of tone deafness or linguistic solipsism, conditioned more often than not by an unconscious adherence to the orthographic representation of a word. To cite an example from my own linguistic milieu, I have a friend who consistently mispronounced the first name of another friend even though he heard me pronounce it correctly on numerous occasions. This was a case where the spelling -ai- of the Finnish name Raimo gave rise to the vowel in English rain instead of the vowel of line. Eventually, the insistence of the letter yielded to the aural dominance of the sound, and the name is now pronounced correctly.

But this sort of linguistic solipsism can also persist uncorrected regardless of numerous audible examples to the contrary and in the absence of spelling influence. A prominent case is the speech of President Barack Obama, who consistently pronounces Taliban with a flat first vowel, a palatalized liquid, and a broad final vowel, in what seems like an attempt to imitate a fancied foreign model taken to be “authentic.” Perversely, Afghanistan in his speech is rendered with uniformly flat A‘s, but Pakistan with uniformly broad A‘s.  (The latter pronunciation is doubtless an imitation of Pakistani English.) He also vacillates between pronouncing Copenhagen correctly and incorrectly, i. e., with a broad A instead of the traditional –ay– diphthong of rain––yet another instance of faux authenticity (not unknown in the speech of miscellaneous other Americans as well).

At bottom, this kind of idiosyncratic variation is a sign of linguistic insecurity. And no wonder: confronted with having publicly to render the Babel of foreign names and their variant phonetic forms in English, anyone––but especially a monolingual speaker––can easily come a cropper.


Girlized Intonation

December 17, 2009

While the near-ubiquity of interrogative intonation instead of traditional declarative intonation in subordinate clauses in the speech of young females has often been remarked, it now needs to be observed that this feature has begun spreading to the speech of young males, and not just adolescents. (It is also occasionally appropriated by not-so-young females in a pathetic effort to sound girlishly modern, as in the off-putting patois of the NPR interviewer Terry Gross.)

Although it is clear that the substitution of interrogative for declarative intonation can have the function of communicating the indecisiveness or unsureness of the speaker in making an assertion (“do  you follow me?,” “do you know what I’m saying?” also being implied), there is also a more general meaning attaching to this kind of change in intonation pattern. The deployment of the interrogative where no explicit question is being asked is tantamount to conceding in advance the rightness or force of an assertion, analogous in its purport to the typically feminine apotropaic smile that is so common in American culture. In this respect, younger males are only belatedly mimicking the self-protective tactics known to women from the beginning of time, and of increasing utility to both sexes in a milieu where predisposing or maintaining anodyne interpersonal relations is of superordinate value.


Truncated Postpositions

December 16, 2009

Contemporary American English, particularly its colloquial variant, has a tendency to delete postpositions from verbs that have traditionally required them, e.g. cave for cave in, or bail for bail out. An example of this phenomenon that is constantly heard on the radio in the responses of interviewees is thanks for having me instead of the normative thanks for having me on, doubtless influenced by the confusion attendant upon the varied meanings (with and without postpositions) of the verb to have.

It is tempting to identify all such instances of truncated postpositions with a SEMANTIC ATTENUATION of the compound verb (in comparison with the untruncated standard variant), by which is meant a meaning that falls short of the full force of the untruncated verb form by remaining noncommittal as to the completion of the action. According to this analysis, for instance, thanks for having me is aspectually incomplete or noncommittal in comparison to thanks for having me on because the omission of the postposition comports a vagueness as to what specific semantic connotation of the verb have is at stake when it is conjoined with a postposition. This analysis is akin to the one I offered of the dropping of the reflexive after the verb commit as an attenuation of the complete degree of binding or pledging designated by commit myself/oneself/themselves, etc.


The Last Straw

December 3, 2009

The growing power of linguistic hypertrophy in present-day American English (in particular) can be measured inter alia by the incorrect rendering of fixed phrases, wherein the traditional form is replaced by a longer one. This is happening to the normative version of the expression the last straw, which is increasingly heard as the final straw (for instance, in a report by my namesake Ari Shapiro on today’s installment of the NPR program “All Things Considered”).

Recently I was waiting to pick up some laundry early in the morning at a cleaning establishment in Westwood, Calif. when an elderly gentleman came in and said to me “the early bird gathers the worm.” I couldn’t restrain myself and corrected him: “You mean ‘gets’ the worm.” He said nothing and looked at me with incredulity.

Note the greater length of gathers vis-à-vis gets.


Triumph of the Ungrammatical

October 29, 2009

The rise of mass communications and the concomitant spread of literacy to previously marginalized users of a national language present a problem to language historians who have heretofore had the luxury of dismissing variation attributable to imperfect learning and outright grammatical error. That is to say, what would have been ignored as a nondatum in the past must now be taken into account, especially if it becomes a constant presence in the written language. A prominent contemporary example in American English is the reinterpretation of the plurale tantum troops––strictly a collective or mass noun in traditional usage––as a count noun permitting the back-formation of a singular, troop.

Before the advent of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the troops referred to a mass of soldiers, and the singular troop was blocked in this meaning. But with the prominent participation of the Marines along with the Army in these wars, the media followed the participants in discriminating between soldiers and marines, necessitating the use of a word that made no reference to whether the combatants belonged to a specific branch of the armed services. Herein lies the origin of the back-formed singular troop, with its status as a countable noun allowing locutions with numerals like “The insurgents killed 5 troops,” which remain ungrammatical for those speakers who adhere to the traditional norm.


Absolutely the All-Purpose Emphatic

October 2, 2009

In contemporary spoken Englishes all over the world––i. e., not just the British and American variety of English, but the Canadian, Australian, Pakistani, South African, etc.––the word absolutely, typically prefixed, occurs as an emphatic or intensifier of the word it precedes, so that “He’ll absolutely do it” is uttered when the speaker wishes to communicate a high level of assertory force. This absolutely is also often heard as a retort instead of the simple affirmative “Yes,” even when the most mundane request (e.g., “Please pull up Claudia’s voucher” directed at the staff of a gym where a client is requesting that his trainer Claudia’s voucher be presented for his signature so that she can be paid) should have elicited only something as denatured as “Yes, certainly,” “Yes, of course,” etc. In fact, for younger adult speakers one can even go so far as to say that “Yes” has practically been replaced by “Absolutely” as the automatic affirmative response when nothing more emphatic is meant than simple acquiescence.

The kind of aggrandizement of the force of an utterance conveyed by absolutely used to connote intensification can be seen as a proxy for intonational emphasis, although the word clearly does not exclude being uttered with emphatic intonation when the situation calls for extra assertory force.

But the evaluation of the process described extends beyond the matter of the emasculation of this particular word, beyond its contemporary slippage into the inventory of simple affirmatives lacking emphatic force. It is to be seen as yet another instance of a type of linguistic pathology––namely grammatical hypertrophy––which is a failure of thought. This type of failure is normally coextensive with the pleonasms, redundancies, and tautologies of all sorts that are rapidly pervading the language without being recognized as such by their users––in other words, varieties of overdetermination by repetition. However, absolutely uttered without emphatic intonation as a lexical item of maximal assertory force utilized to signify mere agreement should also be understood as an overdetermination. Here this category is exemplified by a word voided of its lexical meaning and relegated to a mere token of discourse accompanying a recurring speech act.


Ten Thousand Untruths

September 9, 2009

One of the possible unpredictable paths that language development can take is exemplified by the assimilation of loan words, wherein something that is at variance with the linguistic patterns of the donor language is adopted by the borrowing speech community anyway, and only owing to the imputed prestige of the first transmitter(s) of the mistaken form.

One is reminded here of the popular Japanese proverb––Ikken kyo ni hoete banken jitsu o tsutau––which loosely translated means ‘One dog barks out a lie and ten thousand dogs take it up as the truth’.

This sort of situation must be what explains the consistent misstressing one hears in the Anglophone media of the Slavic surnames of tennis players, particularly of the swarm of Russian women that inhabit the current ranks of tennis professionals. Take the names of two prominent women, Maria Sharapova and Svetlana Kuznetsova, who are (again) among the many playing at this year’s U. S. Open Championships. The monolingual TV announcers who have to struggle with the pronunciation of their surnames follow what is now the established norm in tennis parlance, with penultimate stress in the first name and antepenultimate stress in the second, i. e., Sharapóva and Kuznétsova. Note that both surnames have four syllables and end in –a (the Russian feminine ending). Accordingly, following the native English stress pattern for such quadrisyllabic items, they should both be pronounced with main stress on the penultimate syllable, i. e., as in bossanova or, for that matter, panegyric.

Now, it so happens that both of the English adaptations are wrong from the point of view of their authentic form in Russian. In these women’s native language it is Sharápova, which like all Russian family names in –ov/-ova goes back to a possessive adjective derived from a nominal base (here the dialectal sharáp ‘theft’) and mimics the fixed stress on the second syllable of the stem throughout its paradigm (Nom sharáp, Gen sharápa, etc.); and it is Kuznetsóva (< kuznéts ‘blacksmith’), because it follows the stress pattern Nom kuznéts, Gen kuznetsá, etc., with stress on the first syllable of the suffix (= ending) in the oblique cases, which corresponds to the penult in the derived feminine surname in the nominative case.

By rights, if one is going to pronounce both names according to English stress rules, then both Sharapova and Kuznetsova should have stress on the penult. This would be at odds with the authentic Russian stress in the first case but would coincide with it in the second. It would, of course, take only a very small effort to pronounce them both “correctly,” since Sharápova would fit the model of unfláppable (which is quadrisyllabic in English despite its trisyllabic orthography, the final vowel being silent but a reduced vowel being pronounced between the final two consonants) and Kuznetsóva would conform to the type Manitóba.

Consequently, the two mistaken stresses––from the point of view of Russian––of Sharapóva and Kuznétsova––are of an unequal degree of inauthenticity or falsity from the point of view of English. The first comes about simply by the application of normal English stressing rules to quadrisyllabic names of foreign origin. But the second is only explicable as a mistake pure and simple, one that was first made by an American or British speaker––doubtless a TV commentator––but whose prestige licensed its endless repetition as the accepted form by the myriad listeners who took it at face value.


Pronominal Prosopopoeia

July 28, 2009

A recent development in spoken American English is the supersedure of what used to be reserved for non-human antecedents in the reference of the relative pronoun which by its human counterpart who. In listening to radio transmissions one discovers the increasing use of who where only which previously obtained as grammatically correct, e.g. “the companies who” or “the financial corporation who” instead of “the companies which” and “the financial corporation which,” as a recognition of the plurality of the collectivity’s members. Cf. this example from a recent New York Times column (quoting Judith Kipper): “‘Do you have confidence that the banks, who helped to create the problem . . .'” (Joe Nocera, “‘Nice’ Wasn’t Part of the Deal,” The New York Times, National Edition, August 1, 2009, p. B1).

This widespread phenomenon could be analyzed simply as a change of focus in relative pronominal reference from the inanimate grammatical property of the collective noun to the human agents that constitute the actors making the abstract noun come to life, so to speak. This is akin to the British usage whereby grammatically singular collectives like family or team are referred to by plural pronouns and plural number in verb conjugation (cf. American “the family is coming to dinner” vs. British “the family are coming to dinner,” etc.). It is further supported by the neutralization of the opposition between human and non-human in the possessive pronoun whose; thus both “the people whose faces” and “the faces whose outlines” are both normative.

But a more comprehensive analysis that trades in axiological (value) considerations can also be essayed, providing a possibly deeper understanding of the linguistic change. Since referring to an inanimate (specifically: non-human) object with the relative pronoun reserved for human antecedents is a kind of personification, one could just as well say that words like company or corporation which induce the phenomenon at issue have come to be regarded grammatically as human, making this a reflection of the underlying change in their value status. They are no longer impersonal agents denoted by abstract nouns but simulacra of human actors with the power over real human beings, construed heretofore as wielded only by the latter. Accordingly, this shift in pronominal usage in the twenty-first century would ultimately be seen as the sign of a nascent reinterpretation––both ideologically and in the grammar of American English (at least)––of the speech community’s evaluation of the notional structure of social reality.


Semantic Contamination

July 22, 2009

When words or phrases occupy adjacent or overlapping semantic fields, they may begin to interfere with each other in the sense that one contaminates the other, thereby changing usage such that the contaminated version supplants the earlier one.

This has happened recently in the American English catachrestic construction “good-paying job,” which has all but replaced the traditional “well-paying job” (with or without the hyphen). It is a further instance of the usurpation of the adjective/adverb “well” by “good.”

In analyzing how and why this has happened, one must start by comparing the constructions “good job” and “well paid.” The compound adjective “well-paying” is the result of adjectivizing “well paid.” Note that one can say “The job/John is well paid” but not “*The job/John is good paid.” The component “well” is then supplanted by “good,” a result of contamination by “good job.” A good job is now preeminently taken to be a well-paying job: whatever else it may entail, the level of remuneration is primary and is reflected in the change to “good-paying.” So there is an underlying value change that undergirds and motivates the change.

The same may be said of the now ubiquitous “I’m good” for “I’m well” in the speech of persons under a certain age (45?). As possibly in the previous case, “well” is all but avoided when juxtaposed with a human agent because it has been relegated to the meaning field associated with health (cf. the neologism “wellness”). “Feeling good” is evidently not the same as “feeling well” (cf. the difference between “I [don’t]/feel good” and “I [don’t]/feel well). A fillip comes from the extancy of “I don’t feel good about it” but not “*I don’t feel well about it.” Cf. the standard “She paid him well” with the dialectal/nonstandard “She paid him good.”