The pragmatic meanings of some discourse markers in Homer

The pragmatic meanings of some discourse markers in Homer∗ Anna Bonifazi (Harvard University and University of Turin) The overarching topic of this paper is the grammaticalization of some Homeric discourse features; in other words, special attention is devoted to grammatical phenomena that signal how to process one or more discourse units. Discourse–either in written or in spoken form–refers to the manner of verbal communication; as such, it shows connections to the communicative context and it signals the speaker’s/writer’s communicative intentions.1 As Bakker 1997 has convincingly shown, Homeric epic can be analyzed in terms of discourse; information units are conveyed by discourse units that articulate the flow of narration–hence we have breaks, developments of ideas, additions and so on. The manner of communication in the Homeric poems is detectable whenever the text includes metacommunicative features informing the recipients about what is going on at the level of performance. Especially in the last twenty years, secondary literature has more or less directly underscored several meta-communicative aspects of the Homeric language that tell us something about the relationship between the primary narrator and the audience. These aspects relate to non-impersonality through focalization (De Jong 1987), to narrative continuity (Richardson 1990), to the characters’ speeches mirroring the poet’s speech (Martin 1989), to the use of irony (Dekker 1965), to misdirections (Morrison 1992), and to the choice of elliptical messages to be presumably balanced by gestures (Boegehold 1999). To this I add the different modes of communication that characterize single sections of the epic narrative, such as performing similes, performing catalogues, performing laments– which involve both the primary narrator and the characters. Discourse studies may enrich (and to some extent even modify) the grammatical account of many Homeric words, with notable consequences at the level of literary interpretation and of translation. A provocative example is ἄνδρα, the very first word of the Odyssey. ἄνδρα can be regarded as an anaphoric expression referring to Odysseus and lacking of any verbal antecedent, as it immediately gives access to “Odysseus” to any attendant to any performance of the Odyssey, whereas the traditional (written-oriented) perspective entails the reference to a nameless hero who becomes the specific hero Odysseus as the narration unfolds. Discourse markers and Ancient Greek particles The linguistic features I am going to spotlight are conjunctions/adverbs that seem to elude the canonical alternative between adversative and continuative meanings. Let us consider a modern example of such conjunctions, first. In Brothers Grimm’s Rosebud (Dornröschen), ∗ The broader research project relating to this paper is supported by the European Commission through a Marie Curie Outgoing International Fellowship (MOIF-CT-2005, contract n. 8030; PRAGL ‘Pragmatics of Archaic Greek Literature’). I wish to thank the participants in the conference for their comments. 1 On different approaches to discourse, see Schiffrin 1994. | 30 Anna Bonifazi once the princess falls down lifeless, all in the castle is said to have fallen asleep. A detail about the absence of wind and no moving leaves is added. Then, the text goes on as follows: (1) Rings um das Schloß aber begann eine Dornenhecke zu wachsen, (. . . ) (Grimm 1980: 259) So, all around the castle a spiny hedge started to grow. This is an example of aber resembling, in my view, many occurrences of αὐτάρ in Homer. It does not express any contrast, but it also does not simply give continuity to the discourse. Arguably, it marks the shift (both thematic and visual) to a different section of narration. Not by chance, this sentence is indented. The main problem of detecting the function and the meaning of some adverbs or conjunctions as they are used in various modes of discourse is that they sometimes contribute to the content of what is said, whereas other times they seem not to add anything semantically relevant (which is why they often are not translated at all). Pragmatics, that is, the subfield of linguistics that embraces different studies on what speakers do or imply by uttering sentences, in the last thirty years has developed some interpretive frameworks in order to define what the meaning of such adverbs or conjunctions is, and how it is possible to read the semantic/pragmatic interface connected to their uses. A relevant notion in this respect is that of “discourse markers”.2 Here I adopt the view according to which “discourse markers” designate a category of different lexical items (adverbs, conjunctions, interjections and short phrases) that do not contribute to the propositional content of sentences. Rather, they typically convey procedural aspects of the verbal communication (for example what else? ); they may also convey interpersonal aspects of communication (for example you know in English), or a mix of procedural and interpersonal aspects (for example interestingly enough, . . . ). Let us analyze two sentences that show the difference between words that do contribute to the propositional content, and words that do not contribute to it but have a pragmatic relevance (for the sake of convenience, from now on the former meaning will be referred to as propositional, while the latter will be referred to as pragmatic). (2) a. I was sick, so I stayed in bed. b. John is sick. So, let’s start. (Van Dijk 1979: 453) In these two examples, the same lexical item so works at two different levels of communication, namely the propositional one, dealing with states of affairs, and the pragmatic one, dealing with various contextual implications and with the speaker’s meta-communicative intentions. So in the first sentence is what connects two states of affairs, that is, being sick and staying in bed. By contrast, so in the second sentence connects two discourse acts: the former informs the audience about the fact that John is sick, while the second marks what is going to start in the upcoming seconds. “One of the most prominent functions of discourse markers is to signal the kind of relations a speaker perceives between different parts of the discourse” (Lenk 1997). Their most typical meaning is procedural, to use Rouchota’s terms (1998); they contribute to the “strategic organization of discourse”, to use Hannay and Kroon’s terms (2005). They signal where upcoming sections of discourse come from, and where discourse is going to. Their typical position is sentence initial; also, they have a separate tone contour (in written language a comma usually follows), that is, they are prosodically prominent. The next step is to compare discourse markers and Ancient Greek particles. Particles suffer from being historically negatively defined; they escape specific grammatical classifications as they are considered as propositionally irrelevant elements. A major feature complicating 2 Basic literature on this includes Schiffrin 1987, Jucker & Ziv 1998 and Lenk 1997. Works that are particularly relevant to the present topic include Brinton 1996, Bezuidenhout 2004 and Cohen 2007. The pragmatic meanings of some discourse markers in Homer 31 | our understanding is that it is not always clear whether they connect states of affairs or discourse acts (καί, for instance, can be problematic in this respect). Finally, their sentence position may vary. All of this in principle does not encourage the identification of their functions and meanings. In which cases can we say that particles work as discourse markers? A general answer, so far, may be the following: they work as discourse markers each time they do not contribute to the content of what is said (they do not alter the content), and, instead, they signal how to process the upcoming discourse step. Particles working as discourse markers have a sentence initial position. What does that mean for Ancient Greek? Wackernagel’s law concerning clitics in second position has been recently interpreted in terms of intonational relevance; thus, sentence initial enclitic particles may give prosodic prominence to words in first position.3 Thus, both particles in first position and particles in second position may be considered as occupying a sentence initial position. A further similarity linking particles and discourse markers is the possible occurrence of chains (for example, ἀλλ΄ ἄγε δή in Ancient Greek, and then, finally, you know in English). The distinction between “pure” procedural meaning and “pure” interpersonal meaning of particles actually does not fit the reality of Homeric epic utterances. For example, ἀτάρ sometimes seems to adjust previous utterances (procedural meaning), and sometimes it seems to warn about a possible addressee’s frustration of expectations (interpersonal meaning). Therefore, I propose to consider the values of Ancient Greek particles in a scalar continuum ranging from a most procedural to a most interpersonal meaning. In a decidedly small number of occurrences particles may have a propositional meaning, especially when they appear in mid sentence position and in syntactically subordinated clauses. However, the current paper will not include the analysis of those cases. Before focusing on some Homeric discourse markers etymologically related, I would like to exemplify first what a procedural meaning of an Ancient Greek particle may consist in. Γάρ is a good instance of a procedural discourse marker, and it has already been studied in a discourse perspective.4 Since particles, like discourse markers, are multifunctional by definition, I would like to quote a passage illustrating just one of the possible functions– usually accounted within the very broad definition of “explanatory”γάρ. (3) Odyssey i 33–34; Zeus to other gods ῎Ω πόποι, οἷον δή νυ θεοὺς βροτοὶ αἰτιόωνται. ἐξ ἡμέων γάρ φασι κάκ΄ ἔμμεναι· (. . . ) Oh for shame, how the mortals put the blame upon us gods, for they say evils come from us, (. . . )5 The explicative nexus linking how the mortals put the blame upon us and the statement from us, they say, evils come is actually at the level of utterances, of discourse acts.6 Why am I saying that the mortals charge gods? the speaker means; Because mortals say evils come from us (ἐξ ἡμέων γάρ is supposedly prosodically marked). Or else: which evidence does support what I am saying? The fact that mortals say evils come from us. A corresponding English example (of a well-known kind of pragmatic because) is the following: (4) Are you free tomorrow? Because I’d like to go rowing. Because here introduces a new and different discourse act that explains why the immediately preceding act of asking Are you free tomorrow? has been made. 3 Cf. Fraser 2001. 4 Γάρ in narratives may signal the embedding of a further narrative; cf. De Jong 1997. 5 All translations of passages from the Iliad and from the Odyssey are by Lattimore (1951 and 1967 respectively). 6 By discourse act I mean the smallest unit of verbal communicative behavior, after Hannay & Kroon 2005. | 32 Anna Bonifazi The pragmatic meanings of αὖ, αὖτε and αὐτάρ All the remaining passages cited in this paper illustrate some discourse functions I read behind the uses of αὖ, αὖτε and αὐτάρ.7 My results harmonize with what Kroon 1995 and Orlandini 1999 argued about Latin autem. αὖ and cognates in Ancient Greek have two basic pragmatic meanings, namely they convey distinctiveness (which is to be connected to αὖ ‘on the other side’), and recognition (which is to be connected to αὖ as ‘back again’). According to my research, Ancient Greek αὐτός, together with αὐτοῦ adverb, αὐτίκα, and αὔτως, share with αὖ, αὖτε, and αὐτάρ a number of pragmatic and cognitive functions. Such functions pertain to the thematic, the emotional and, most of all, the visual level of narration (my results confirm that in Homer narration and visualization go together). Two more preliminary remarks have to precede the cases in point. First: αὖ, αὖτε and αὐτάρ overall mark different kinds of procedural and/or visual discontinuities; still, they do this within the overarching framework of the same source of utterances handling all the threads of narration (which I call performative continuity). Second: the same discourse marker can have different procedural and visual functions, on the one hand, and different discourse markers can accomplish the same function, on the other hand. Let us consider now how αὐ-discourse markers work as procedural and visual prompts during the Homeric performance. A notable–and maybe older–function is to mark the visual shift from an item to a parallel one, from what is on one side and what is on the other side of the same frame: (5) Iliad xxiii 727–728; the primary narrator (. . . ) ἐπὶ δὲ στήθεσσιν ᾿Οδυσσεὺς κάππεσε· λαοὶ δ΄ αὖ θηεῦντό τε θάμβησάν τε (. . . ) so that Odysseus fell on his chest as the people [= shift and look at the other side of the imagined frame] gazed upon them and wondered. The wrestling between Ajax and Odysseus is part of the funeral games in honor of Patroclus. In this passage αὖ allows for the external audience to visualize the Achaean spectators as spatially shifted: while the two fighters are “on the one side”, they gaze upon them and wonder “on the other side”. δέ (λαοί δ΄) generically introduces a different discourse act, and αὖ specifies that a visual shift is required. The cognitive activity of shifting to parallel focuses–both in visualization and in memory–is arguably implied by αὐ-discourse markers also in lists and in genealogies. Formulas indicating turn-taking in Homeric conversations often include αὖ, αὐτάρ, and most of all αὖτε, as in the very frequent wording And to him/her, X αὖτε said . . . : (6) Iliad xix 184; the primary narrator Τὸν δ΄ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν ᾿Αγαμέμνων· Then in turn [= shift to the other interlocutor] the lord of men Agamemnon answered him. Αὖτε suggests a visual shift from the previous interlocutor (τόν, the individual who just spoke) to the next one (ἄναξ), the latter working as a parallel focus. The same holds for lists: a typical way of connecting more entries that are hierarchically equal is δεύτερον αὖ or δεύτερον αὖτε, and also, interestingly enough, δεύτερον αὖτις.8 7 On this see also Bonifazi 2008. 8 In Bonifazi 2008 I propose that sentence initial αὖτις works as a discourse marker, whereas in middle or in final position it works as a propositional adverb. Again in English does the same: let us think of the difference between Again, this does not make any sense (again having a pragmatic procedural meaning) and I’ve lost my wallet again (again having a propositional meaning). The pragmatic meanings of some discourse markers in Homer 33 | Αὐτάρ, usually not translated at all, is a discourse marker primarily involved with the beginning of new narrative sections.9 This basic function is so important in the flow of Homeric narration that it can even mark the beginning of entire embedded stories. It typically establishes a new setting, that is, a series of related actions that do not share with the previous setting the time and/or the place. Very often the gap between the two settings is temporal, and this is verbally made explicit by the occurrence of a temporal marker following αὐτάρ (typically ἐπεί or ἔπειτα).10 However, αὐτάρ does not have the function of reinforcing the temporal gap; conversely, it suggests a visual shift–by the mind’s eyes–that helps the recipients processing that moment of discourse. The following passage exemplifies this: (7) Odyssey x 569–573; xi 1–2; Odysseus to the Phaeacians ἀλλ΄ ὅτε δή ῥ΄ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης ᾔομεν ἀχνύμενοι, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες, τόφρα δ΄ ἄρ΄ οἰχομένη Κίρκη παρὰ νηῒ μελαίνῃ ἀρνειὸν κατέδησεν ὄϊν θῆλύν τε μέλαιναν, ῥεῖα παρεξελθοῦσα· τίς ἂν θεὸν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδοιτ΄ ἢ ἔνθ΄ ἢ ἔνθα κιόντα· ΟΔΥΣΣΕΙΑΣ Λ Αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ΄ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν, νῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν, When we came down to our fast ship and the sand of the seashore, we sat down, sorrowful, and weeping big tears. Circe meanwhile had gone down herself to the side of the black ship, and tethered aboard it a ram and one black female, easily passing by us unseen. Whose eyes can follow the movement of a god passing from place to place, unless the god wishes? ODYSSEY 11 Now when we had gone down again to the sea and our vessel, first of all we dragged the ship down into the bright water. While book x ends with the description of Circe concealing herself while tethering a couple of animals, book xi catches up with the actions of Odysseus and the companions (‘we’). The speaker (Odysseus) helps the audience (the Phaeacians) to visually shift from Circe to the unfortunate sailors. This is the procedural meaning of αὐτάρ in this case. The fact that αὐτάρ most typically starts the line fits with the hypothesis of a performative break preceding it; its utterance could have been associated with a deep breath taken beforehand, or with a special pitch in the voice, or a specific gesture, or a specific facial expression (I remind the reader of the sentence So, let’s start). Whenever αὐτάρ marks the switch between different sections of the epic discourse, the speaker shows performative continuity, in that he underscores the connection-in-performance that links all of them. Αὐτάρ is quite frequently followed by a first person pronoun. Beyond the Iliad and the Odyssey, a most striking instance is the closure of several Homeric Hymns, which recites: (8) Hymn iii to Apollo 546, Hymn iv to Hermes 580, Hymn vi to Aphrodite 21 and others αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ σεῖο καὶ ἄλλης μνησομ΄ ἀοιδῆς As for me, I will remember you as well as the rest of the song. 9 On discourse markers well and but cueing different sections of oral narratives, cf. Norrick 2001. 10 About one third of the occurrences of αὐτάρ in the Odyssey and in the Iliad work in this way. | 34 Anna Bonifazi In these cases αὐτάρ draws the attention of the listeners to the source of the utterance; it causes a zoom effect that isolates the new target from the previous “shot”.11 As for me implies also look at me, now, zoom in on me. As such, it marks the crucial transition between the previous telling and the “dismissal” of the teller himself, which is explicitly self-referential (as in the closure of many fairy tales in different cultural traditions, by means of expressions such as and they stayed there, and I stayed here). Homeric αὖτε allows for zooming in on individuals as well, especially when the latter are singled out from a plurality of persons. The Catalogue of Ships shows a number of instances of that, such as, for example: (9) Iliad ii 601; the primary narrator τῶν αὖθ΄ ἡγεμόνευε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ· Of these [zoom in, now], the leader was the Gerenian horseman, Nestor. The prominence is primarily visual. The catalogues of the Achaean and of the Trojan contingents in Iliad ii include 23 entries (out of 45) introducing the leaders of military groups by means of αὖ, αὖτε and αὐτάρ. Curiously enough, αὐτός is used as well, as in the following passage, where leader Menelaus is procedurally singled out. (10) Iliad ii 586–589; the primary narrator τῶν οἱ ἀδελφεὸς ἦρχε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος ἑξήκοντα νεῶν· ἀπάτερθε δὲ θωρήσσοντο· ἐν δ΄ αὐτὸς κίεν ᾗσι προθυμίῃσι πεποιθὼς ὀτρύνων πόλεμον δέ· (. . . ) Of these his brother Menelaus, good at the great war cry was leader, with sixty ships marshalled apart from the others. He himself [= zoom in on him; he is now the center of attention] went among them in the confidence of in his valour, driving them battleward. (. . . ) Αὐτός in Homer may qualify its referent as somebody–usually higher in rank–that occupies a central position in a given visual frame.12 The last function of αὐ-discourse markers I would like to mention is the mark of “flashes”. Such a mark concerns a special kind of discontinuity, namely the acknowledgement of a special instant of narration, in which something remarkable happens. The visual component consists in a higher cognitive investment–suggested by the speaker–in the processing of that instant, as if a flash would be snapped with the purpose of fixing that moment. Adverb αὐτοῦ may be used to convey this (along with αὖ and αὐτίκα). (11) Odyssey iv 700–703; Medon to Penelope; the primary narrator Τηλέμαχον μεμάασι κατακτάμεν ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ οἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δ΄ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδ΄ ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν. ὣς φάτο, τῆς δ΄ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ· Now they are minded to kill Telemachus with the sharp bronze on his way home. He went in quest of news of his father 11 Cinematographic metaphors rest on a basic process enhanced by the Homeric epic, which is the so-called “cinema in the mind”, that is, the spectators and the performer visualize the mythical deeds in a series of shots “appearing” to them as the narrative unfolds. Cf. Bakker 2005, Minchin 2001 and Bonifazi 2008. Beyond some discourse markers, other linguistic devices mark visuality, including deictic markers and evidentials. 12 On the pragmatic and cognitive implications of the Homeric uses of αὐτός see Bonifazi (forthcoming). The pragmatic meanings of some discourse markers in Homer 35 | to Pylos the sacrosanct and to glorious Lacedaemon. So he spoke, and her knees gave way and the heart in her. The traditional propositional readings of αὐτοῦ are ‘in that very place’ or ‘in that very moment’ or ‘on the spot’. However, none of these readings show the potentially co-existent reference to the hic et nunc of the performance. As a matter of fact, in the two Homeric poems αὐτοῦ means also ‘here’ or ‘now’. In the quoted passage it occurs early in the sentence, close to δέ reinforcing the initial group13 –comma after φάτο is totally arbitrary. As such, it parallels many Homeric instances of ὁ/τὸν/τὴν δ΄ αὖ(τε). As for the meaning, it is as if the speaker would stress that the sudden moment he is speaking about is also the sudden moment in which he tells what happened to Penelope’s knees and heart. αὐτοῦ may bridge the gap between the past of the events and the present of the performance. The special moment of the story and the special moment of discourse coincide. My reading of αὐτοῦ in Odyssey iv 703 as a discourse marker is supported by the fact that it may not affect the semantic content of the proposition: ‘her knees gave way and the heart in her’ is a state of affairs that is not “touched” by αὐτοῦ (Lattimore’s translation, in fact, ignores αὐτοῦ). Rather, αὐτοῦ may convey the manner of communication, that is, the speaker’s involvement in that flash, once he acknowledges and re-enacts Penelope’s frightened reaction.14 Conclusion Discourse markers express the kind of relations the speaker perceives between different parts of the discourse. Discourse markers usually occur in sentence initial position, and do not affect the propositional content of the sentence including them. The procedural meanings of Homeric αὖ, αὖτε, αὐτάρ rest on the visual discontinuities existing between different sections of the epic narration. They work as “road-signs” of discourse and prompt specific cognitive activities related to visual imagery: shifting between different kinds of takes (or shots, either in changes of scene or in changes of focus), shifting between less and more detailed depictions (zooming in) and shifting between ordinary moments and extraordinary moments of the narration (flashes). By means of these markers both the performer and the audience, who re-see in their mind’s eyes the mythical events re-enacted in the ongoing performance, are helped in processing what is next. References Bakker, E. J. (1997). Poetry in Speech: Orality and the Homeric Discourse. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press. ——— (2005). Pointing at the Past. From Formula to Performance in Homeric Poetics. Washington, D. C.: Center for Hellenic Studies – Harvard University Press. Bezuidenhout, A. (2004). ‘Procedural Meaning and the Semantics/Pragmatics Interface’. In: C. Bianchi (ed.), The Semantics/Pragmatics Distinction. Stanford: CSLI Publications, 101–131. Boegehold, A. L. (1999). When a gesture was expected. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Bonifazi, A. (forthcoming). ‘Discourse Cohesion Through Third Person Pronouns: The Case of κεῖνος and αὐτός in Homer’. In: S. Bakker & G. Wakker (eds.), Discourse Cohesion in ancient Greek. Leiden: Brill. ——— 2008. ‘Memory and Visualization in Homeric Discourse Markers’. In: A. Mackay (ed.), Orality, Literacy, Memory in the Ancient Graeco-Roman World. Leiden: Brill, 35–64. 13 See above, n. 3 and the related main text. 14 All of αὐ- adverbs are more extensively analyzed in a monograph that is in preparation. | 36 Anna Bonifazi Brinton, L. J. (1996). Pragmatic Markers in English: Grammaticalization and Discourse Functions. Berlin and New York: De Gruyter. Cohen, E. (2007). ‘Discourse markers: Cotext and Context Sensitivity’. Proceedings of the Israeli Linguistic Society 16, v–xxiii. De Jong, I. J. F. (1987). Narrators and Focalizers. The Presentation of the Story in the Iliad. Amsterdam: Grüner. ——— (1997). ‘ΓΑΡ Introducing Embedded Narratives’. In: A. Rijksbaron (ed.), New Approaches to Greek Particles. Amsterdam: Gieben, 175–185. Dekker, A. F. (1965). Ironie in der Odyssee. Leiden: Brill. Fraser, B. (2001). ‘The Clause Start in Ancient Greek: Focus and the Second Position’. Glotta 77, 138–177. Grimm, W. & J. (1980) [1812–1814]. Kinder- und Hausmärchen I. H. Rölleke (ed.), Stuttgart: Reclam. Hannay, M. & C. Kroon (2005). ‘Acts and the relationship between discourse and grammar’. Functions of Language 12, 87–124. Jucker, A. H. & Y. Ziv (eds.) (1998). Discourse markers. Description and Theory. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: Benjamins. Kroon, C. (1995). Discourse Particles in Latin. A Study of nam, enim, autem, vero and at. Amsterdam: Gieben. Lattimore, R. (1951). The Iliad of Homer. Chicago: Chicago University Press. ——— (1967). The Odyssey of Homer. New York: Harper & Row. Lenk, U. (1997). ‘Discourse Markers’. In: Handbook of Pragmatics online. (http://benjamins.com/online/hop/). Martin, R. P. (1989). The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Minchin, E. (2001). Homer and the Resources of Memory. Some Applications of Cognitive Theory to the Iliad and the Odyssey. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. Morrison, J. V. (1992). Homeric Misdirection: False Predictions in the Iliad. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press. Norrick, N. R. (2001). ‘Discourse markers in oral narrative’. Journal of Pragmatics 33, 849–878. Orlandini, A. (1999). ‘De la connexion: une analyse pragmatique des connecteurs latins autem et ceterum’. Indogermanische Forschungen 104, 142–163. Richardson, S. (1990). The Homeric Narrator. Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press. Rouchota, V. (1998). ‘Procedural Meaning and Parenthetical Discourse Markers’. In: A. H. Jucker & Y. Ziv 1998, 97–126. Schriffin, D. (1987). Discourse Markers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ——— (1994). Approaches to Discourse. Oxford and Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell. Van Dijk, T. (1979). ‘Pragmatic Connectives’. Journal of Pragmatics 3, 447–456.