Segments 03 (October 2021) Nouns - Rconlangs v1.1
Segments 03 (October 2021) Nouns - Rconlangs v1.1
Segments 03 (October 2021) Nouns - Rconlangs v1.1
A Journal of
Constructed Languages
Noun Constructions
Issue 03
October 2021
Preface
Welcome to Segments, A Journal of Constructed Languages, and the official publication of
the /r/conlangs subreddit team. Within this journal, you will find articles produced by
members of our community.
This Issue is focused on Noun Constructions. Conlangers were invited to submit articles
about their conlangs and how nouns function in them. They were encouraged to write about
nominal systems, noun phrases, gender and class systems, non‐canonical uses for nouns,
and more!
We hope you enjoy this Issue, and we hope you will add your voice and perspective to future
Issues in order to make Segments an even more wonderful and comprehensive resource!
Lastly, a special thanks to Akam Chinjir, who helped clean up our LATEX code for this Issue!
‐ Segments Team
Segments.
Noun
Constructions
r/conlangs
A Journal of
Constructed Languages
Showcases
03 | On Feeling Things . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
05 | Of Nouns in Òzém . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
09 | Africana . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
Challenges
by mareck
Since the last article was on roots in gan Minhó, which are the most noun-verby thing
in the language, this article is about a specific process that roots undergo and its various
applications.
Introduction
Object stripping is a phenomenon in some Oceanic languages that is similar to canonical
noun incorporation in many regards, in which the object of a verb is “stripped” of some
normally-occurring element. Much of my research is taken from Kenneth L. Miner’s Ob-
ject stripping in some Oceanic languages, in which he primarily discusses stripping in Ulithian
(although he also has one on Zuni, which apparently exhibits both stripping and noun in-
corporation proper).
In Ulithian, a noun normally occurs with one or more “definiteness elements”: demon-
stratives, possessive classifiers, and so on. Stripping removes such element(s), the noun
mandatorily occurring bare, and takes on some broader, “indefinite” semantics. It is, how-
ever, still separate from the verb.
In gan Minhó, a similar process occurs: arguments (the most noun-like usage of roots)
almost always occur with a determiner (DET), which instantiates the root as a count rather
than a mass entity. The removal of the determiner has a handful of functions which, to be
honest, I feel like I haven’t used to the fullest extent (not that I conlang much anyways…).
Anyways, the following sections are basically copied verbatim from the full grammar of
gan Minhó, with small edits for the sake of Segments.
Page 1
gan Minhó
Stripping
Stripping is a syntactic process by which an argument root is “stripped” of its determiner
and any inflection it may have, and is juxtaposed against its predicate; however, the two
roots still behave as independent roots phonologically and prosodically. Generally, only
object arguments and obliques may be stripped; and among these, it is most often patient-
like arguments.
When an argument is stripped, it decreases the transitivity of the predicate against which it
is juxtaposed: transitive predicates become intransitive, and intransitive predicates (some-
times) become impersonal, taking no arguments. In the former, the strippee (i.e., the
stripped argument) is placed directly after the predicate; in the latter, it is placed directly
before the predicate (when impersonal).
Stripping has four main uses: derivational, non-specific, raising, and backgrounding.
Derivational stripping is lexical; non-specific and raising stripping are syntactic; and back-
grounding stripping is pragmatic. Generally, stripping is used more in natural speech rather
than elicited speech and writing.
Derivational
Derivational stripping consists of lexicalized predicate-strippee pairs, called bipartite roots.
Bipartite roots are often used to form habitual, job-like events, or impersonal weather-like
roots. They may also be used to form entities, often collective or generic in nature. They
are similar in function in compounds proper, but are composed of independent roots.
There are also a few set bipartite roots that are composed of two roots that are synonymous
or near-synonymous; weather-type roots are usually of this kind. They may be a pair of a
native root and a loaned root with similar meanings, or even the same root reduplicated;
such roots are often of the collective entity type.
Compare:
The latter expresses a more job-like activity (e.g., producing bear jerky as a job or hobby),
and may also put more emphasis on the product of the event rather than the event itself.
Page 2
Wherein the stripped ideophonic root ssassas ‘sound of heavy rain’ serves to narrow the
meaning of the predicate mùhmi ‘precipitate’. Either root could also be used independently
to express the same or a broader meaning.
sa thìma kan
DET deity deity
Collective entity bipartite roots are generally non-productive, or only marginally so, being
produced primarily with native-loan pairs. Forming such roots via bipartite reduplication
is a bit more productive, especially among younger speakers; however, these also tend to
become compounds proper.
Weather-like bipartite roots are more lexicalized, consisting of a weather root (often mùhmi)
and an ideophone describing the weather more narrowly.
Job-like bipartite roots are more productive, consisting of some activity associated with
a profession and the typical patient of such activity. Even more general event roots may
be formed as bipartite roots using a general predicate such as gen or nmsa. As a general
rule, gen ‘be done, made’ is used to form more dynamic predicates, while nmsa ‘be in a more
prominent position’ forms more state-like predicates.
Job-like bipartite roots often have some overlap with other habitual constructions, such
as auxiliary posture roots. They may often be derived freely, especially using the general
bipartite root constructions (using gen or nmsa).
Nonspecific
Non-specific stripping strips and juxtaposes patients and obliques that are not unique in
a given context; they may be semantically count or mass (hence why the stripping of the
determiner is significant), and are unspecified for such categories as number and state. Com-
pare:
Page 3
gan Minhó
Raising
Raising stripping is used to promote possessors and obliques by stripping the possessee
and object (respectively). Unlike other forms of stripping, raising does not decrease the
transitivity of the predicate (rather, it stays the same; the raised argument takes the place
of the stripped argument).
Raising functions similarly to applicatives, in that it allows the raised argument to be oper-
ated on by such phenomena as pivot, topicalization, and so on. It differs from applicatives in
that it has a broader usage (in raising possessors), and that it retains the demoted argument
as the stripped argument (instead of having to reintroduce it as an oblique).
Possessor-raising most often occurs with possessed body parts, and is used to indicate a
closer relationship between the predicate and the body part. Compare the following:
Wherein the former might be used for incidental head-hurting, while the latter may be
used for a common ailment.
In transitive clauses, the possessor of the strippee may be ambiguous, although it is gen-
erally interpreted as the patient argument unless context dictates otherwise.
Page 4
It may also be used for possessed locations:
(12) nos hették hos sunbesz hz (13) nos hették sunpes hɯ @man-
@mangon gon
nos hették hos sunpes hɯ nos hették sunpes hɯ
1 stand DET field DET 1 stand field DET
@mankon @manko
Mango Mango
“I am standing in Mango’s field” “I am standing in Mango’s field”
“I am field-standing in Mango’s”
Backgrounding
Backgrounding stripping is used to background information, making it less prominent. An
argument is introduced into the universe of discourse, and then in later references it occurs
as a stripped argument. Take the following:
Wherein úga ‘whale’ is introduced as an independent argument in the first sentence, and
then backgrounded following sentences. This also demonstrates the placement of the stripped
root: in the second sentence, it is placed before the predicate, as it made the intransitive
predicate impersonal; in the third sentence, it is placed after the predicate, because it made
the transitive predicate intransitive (the pronominal determiner go is dropped).
Page 5
gan Minhó
Conclusion
This is a relatively new feature in gan Minhó, and I sometimes feel like I only added it
because I read about it and it sounded cool. Which isn’t a bad thing, but I want to use
it more. I do think it fits the language, which is why I’m keeping it, but I should really
explore it more; it probably just needs more time to feel more a part of the language. I hope
this article gives some insight and/or inspiration regarding noun incorporation and similar
processes.
Page 6
02 The Mwanelẹ Noun Phrase
The simplest Mwaneḷe noun phrase consists of a bare noun or pronoun. Nouns can be
followed by determiners, numerals, and modifiers like adjectives, possessors, and relative
clauses.
(1) a. bwo
fish
“fish”
b. bwo jenome we em le ṣam je
fish young LNK friend 2 three PROX
“these three fresh fish of your friend’s”
In the romanization I use of Mwaneḷe, I conventionally write the clitics =we and ge= to-
gether with the words before and after them respectively. I write all other clitics as separate
words. In the glosses, they’re all the same, separated from the host with an equals sign ‘=’.
Modifiers
Mwaneḷe noun phrases are mostly head-initial. Modifiers always follow the noun that
they’re modifying.
Page 7
Mwanelẹ
Modifiers can include words from the fairly large but closed adjective class, other nouns,
possessors, modifying nouns joined with either the linking or ornative clitic, and relative
clauses. Here I will discuss all of these except for relative clauses.
Compounding
Mwaneḷe allows compounding of multiple nouns. The head noun is first, followed by
modified nouns.
I know these exist but all the examples I can think of off the top of my head use the
possessive or ornative, or are coordinate compounds. So...
Coordinate Compounds
Mwaneḷe makes use of coordinate compounds: noun compounds where, rather than hav-
ing one noun act as a modifier to the other, two nouns stand together to make a compound
having to do with both components equally. Coordinate compounds don’t have clear head-
edness, and despite the name, they’re never connected by coordinators like xo ‘and.’
They usually refer to either a larger category that includes both of the nouns or to some-
thing associated with the two nouns. They can be coined spontaneously, but there’s also a
fair number of standard, somewhat lexicalized ones.
Page 8
The linking clitic is used to link nominalized verbs to their primary argument. Nominal-
izations marked with ta- have their absolutive argument as their primary argument, and
others have their nominative argument as their primary argument.
The linking clitic isn’t used with unstressed personal pronouns, such as de in example 4,
but it can be used with stressed pronouns or pronouns joined together with xo ‘and.’ In
example 6, it’s used with gwa to distinguish that gwa is being used as a pronoun ‘someone’
as opposed to as a quantifier ‘some.’ This use is similar with the words lot ‘what, who, which’
and ole ‘all, everyone, everything.’
Possessors are often omitted when they’re clear from context, especially when the possessor
is the subject of the sentence or a participant in the conversation. The sentence below shows
an example of both, where em ‘friend’ is understood as referring to the speaker’s friend, even
without a possessive pronoun.
Ornative
The ornative clitic ge= is used to link a noun phrase with a modifier indicating a material
something is made of, an item something is temporarily bearing, or a notable characteristic
of something.
Page 9
Mwanelẹ
It’s also used in the names of a lot of dishes to show a topping or characteristic ingredient.
At first I thought the ornative marker was a prefix (and you’ll often still see it that way
in older documents or in things I’ve written when I’m tired) but now I think it’s better to
describe it as a clitic, since it can scope over whole phrases, not just the word it attaches to.
This means that it can have ambiguous scope when there are multiple adjectives after ge’s
host that could modify either the host or the whole phrase’s head.
It’s more common for adjectives modifying the head of whole noun phrase to come after
the noun, but before any ornative or possessive phrases, like this:
The ornative marker ge= ends up with the same phrasal structure as the linker =we. The
only difference is that ge= attaches to whatever comes after it and =we attaches to what-
ever comes before it. Since the grammar is otherwise the same, I figure they’re operating
with the same mechanics under the hood, just with different prosody on the surface.
Page 10
Augmentative and Diminutive
Mwaneḷe has an augmentative suffix, which marks things as being larger in some way than
usual as well as a diminutive suffix, which marks things as being smaller than usual in some
way.
The augmentative suffix has the form -de after vowels and -et or -ede after consonants,
and the diminutive suffix has the form -pe after vowels and -ep or -epe after consonants.
(13) a. f ̣ekep
man-DIM
“boy”
b. bwode
fish-AUG
“a big fish, a macker”
c. Ḷoḷep
NAME-DIM
“little Ṭaḷoḷ (nickname)”
Both are commonly used to make nicknames. The diminutive is associated with being
cute, small, or young, and the augmentative is associated with being big, well-known or
important, but also with clumsiness or oafishness (in an affectionate way though).
Personal Pronouns
Mwaneḷe has a fairly small pronoun system. Personal pronouns in all dialects have a
three-way person distinction between first person de, second person le, and third person
ke.
Pronoun Meaning
de 1st person
le 2nd person
ke 3rd person
dele 1st person inclusive
keŋwu 3rd person obviative
keje 3rd person proximal
kejo 3rd person distal
Dialectal Pronouns
While these three pronouns are widespread among all Mwaneḷe speakers, there are several
pronouns in use within smaller dialect areas.
In Southern dialects, especially among speakers bilingual in Mekaḷe and Kiraga, the pro-
noun dele is used for first person plural inclusive, where other dialects would just use de or
a conjunct de xo le.
Page 11
Mwanelẹ
For speakers of dialects that have keŋwu, when ke is used as a possessor, it must corefer
with the subject of the sentence. In sentence 15, speakers with keŋwu would say that ke
has to refer back to Sowaŋ, but speakers without it would say it could refer back to him but
doesn’t have to.
In Northern dialects, there are pronouns keje and kejo which come from combining ke with
the proximal and distal demonstratives je and jo. They can be used as normal third-person
pronouns while emphasizing a location close to or far from the speaker.
They can also be used to track different referents, especially when talking about events with
multiple participants. They often show up as contrastive topics or focuses. Usually keje
refers back to the most recently mentioned participant and kejo to the one before that, but
in running speech, often one participant will be referred to with keje and another with kejo
as a reference tracking strategy.
Page 12
When unstressed personal pronouns are used as possessors, they cliticize to the previous
word and don’t take the possessive clitic we, like in kola aŋa=de from example 18. When
they’re the subject of an intransitive verb or the object of a transitive verb, they cliticize
to the verb. Unlike stressed pronouns or nouns, unstressed absolutive pronoun clitics come
before any adverb or other clitics.
Focused pronouns, pronouns with modifiers, and pronouns in conjuncts are stressed and
use we to link them to noun phrases when used as possessors. Exceptions are the quantifiers
ole ‘all’ and epi ‘PL’ as well as the number ṇi ‘two,’ which can occur with clitic pronouns
like in example 18, but don’t have to. Stressed absolutive pronouns appear after adverbs, in
the same place as regular noun phrases.
Demonstratives
Mwaneḷe demonstratives distinguish between two degrees of distance: proximal je for
things that are close to the speaker or listener or recently mentioned and distal jo for things
that are far from the speaker and listener or mentioned earlier in the conversation. The
demonstratives can be enclitics on noun phrases they modify or stand alone as pronouns.
Je and jo by themselves tend to refer to objects, but not to places or times. You can refer to
places with the words gije ‘here’ and gijo ‘there’ (from gi ‘place’) and to times with the words
ŋeke ‘now, immediately’ and ŋeko ‘then, at that time’ (from ŋek ‘to be at a time’). Unlike noun
phrases with demonstratives, these words can be used as adverbs.
Page 13
Mwanelẹ
Demonstratives can be used to mark noun phrases as definite. They’re only used with
anaphoric definites, where the noun phrase is referring back to something that was men-
tioned before. They aren’t used with uniqueness definites (things like ‘the sun’ or ‘the pres-
ident,’ where there’s only one of them in a context, so you don’t need extra information to
pick which one).
In example 23, the first clause mentions a particular cloud and the sun. In English, both ‘the
cloud’ and ‘the sun’ are marked as definite: ‘the cloud’ is identifiable because it refers to the
specific cloud mentioned in the clause before, and ‘the sun’ is definite because there’s only
one sun, so it’s unique in context. In Mwaneḷe, you can mark ‘the cloud’ with a demonstrative
to show that it refers back to something mentioned previously. ‘The sun’ on the other hand
doesn’t get marked with a demonstrative because its definiteness comes from uniqueness.
It doesn’t take a demonstrative even if it’s also referring back to an expression in an earlier
clause.
Even though Modern Mwaneḷe doesn’t have a definite article, past Mwaneḷe did. It was
a proclitic that was u= before consonants and w= before vowels, and it labialized initial
consonants whenever possible. Even though it’s not used anymore, it stuck around in a
few expressions, including pale wamwo ‘to hold your breath’ (from pale ‘stop’ and amwo
‘breath’) and Umweṇok Te, a name for Mwane New Year (also called by the article-less form
Meṇok Te).
There’s also an idiom used to express gratitude, da i tak u __ literally ‘__ is so sweet’ but
in a fairly archaic expression. Speakers who use this will change u to w before vowels, but
many don’t labialize initial consonants.
Page 14
Mwaneḷe also has a determiner lu ‘such’ which refers to things of a type similar to others
in context.
Inherent Number
Some nouns refer to multiple things by default. The largest group of these are inherently
dual nouns, which refer to pairs of things when unmarked. Most of these are nouns referring
to body parts which naturally come in pairs, such as ṭeṣel ‘eyes,’ ŋukwol ‘nostrils,’ and
kanan ‘lungs.’ Others refer to other naturally paired things such as pamwu ‘riverbank’ and
iwamwaŋ ‘couple, members of a couple.’
There are also words that refer to sets of more than two by default, for example dis ‘teeth’
refers to someone’s full mouth of teeth by default rather than an individual tooth.
To refer to an individual thing whose lexical entry is plural by default, speakers will quan-
tify it with the word ṣat ‘one, single.’ In sentence 26a below, many or all of the speaker’s
teeth are hurting them, but in sentence 26b, just one particular tooth is.
Numerals
Mwaneḷe uses a pretty standard base-ten counting system. Here are the basic numerals.
Page 15
Mwanelẹ
When counting, ‘one’ is said as ṣa, but when quantifying something, it is said as ṣat.
Multiples of powers of ten are formed by compounding the power of ten with the multiplier.
These are put together from largest to smallest multiple to build numbers. The word xo can
be added between number groups. Numerals follow the nouns they quantify.
(27) bwo ṣam ṭine (xo) ge lese (xo) po tal (xo) ṣat
fish three thousand and five hundred and eight ten and one
“three thousand five hundred and eighty one fish”
Words describing groups of a particular size can be formed from numerals with the suffix
-ala, for example, samala ‘trio’ or ṭinela ‘group of a thousand.’
There is a word bwu ‘half’ which patterns like a numeral. It refers to half of an individual,
rather than to half of a group, so beṭalu bwu means ‘half a sapote’ and never *‘half of the
sapotes.’ Bwu can be used with other numerals, for example ŋolu ṇi bwu ‘two and a half
cups of tea’ or ŋin bwu ṭine ‘half a thousand people, five hundred people.’
There are two ways to construct fractions or proportions. Unitary fractions other than one
half are made using the particle kwo followed by the denominator of the fraction. I gloss
kwo as ‘part’ even though it’s not used as a standalone word.
The use of fractions to quantify over groups is discussed in the section below including
example 38.
Page 16
Quantification
Quantifiers describe how many of something a noun phrase refers to. Several Mwaneḷe
quantifiers occur as noun phrase enclitics, including ṣat ‘one,’ gwa ‘some,’ epi ‘PL,’ and ole
‘all.’
The word gwa ‘some’ is used to make statements about more than one, but not all of
something. Using gwa carries the implication that your statement does not apply to all of
something. Phrases with gwa are rarely referential.
Under negation, gwa can also act like a negative quantifier. Some speakers will use pigwa
under negation.
Since gwa is only used this way under negation, it isn’t idiomatic to use it as a negative
quantifier for the subject of a transitive verb. Instead, speakers use periphrasis with negative
existential verbs.
The word epi more or less marks plurality. Like gwa, it is used with noun phrases describ-
ing more than one of something. Unlike gwa, it doesn’t imply that a statement is not true
of all of something.
Page 17
Mwanelẹ
The word ole ‘all’ is a universal quantifier, used to make a statement that applies to all
members of a group. When used as a clitic on a noun phrase, it often has a distributive
meaning, like ‘each’ or ‘every.’
Quantifiers that follow the noun phrase as clitics are non-proportional quantifiers, meaning
that the amount they describe does not depend on the total amount of members of the group
they’re quantifying over. Numerals pattern the same way as non-proportional quantifiers.
Since postnominal ole is distributive rather than collective, it is an exception.
Proportional quantifiers on the other hand, come before the noun and are linked with
the linking clitic =we. Ole can be used this way with a collective rather than distributive
meaning or to quantify over the whole of a definite group of things.
Other sorts of proportional quantifiers that come before nouns and are linked with =we
include fractions built with kwo and ki, the words bwu and kwobwa both meaning ‘half,’
and deŋ ‘most.’
Page 18
The word bwu ‘half’ has a different meaning if it is used before or after a noun. Before a
noun with the linking clitic, it means ‘half of a group,’ the same as kwobwa. After the noun,
it refers to half of an individual object. Compare bwuwe widupe ‘half of the bananas’ with
widupe bwu ‘half of a banana.’
Like in other places, =we is not used to link quantifiers to clitic pronouns. The pronouns
can cliticize directly onto the last word in the quantifier phrase, for example deŋ ke ‘most
of them’ or kwobwa de ‘half of us.’ Unlike with nouns, ole can have a collective meaning
when following pronouns in addition to a distributive one.
Conclusion
Since Mwaneḷe doesn’t have marking for some of the classic nouny things like case, noun
class/gender, or number, people often say that its noun constructions aren’t complicated.
Although it’s a verb-heavy language, Mwaneḷe nouns and noun-adjacent words have a lot of
complexity to them. This article will probably be the seed that grows into the nouns chapter
of the upcoming Mwaneḷe grammar, so I’m on the lookout for ways to expand it. If you have
any questions, comments, or suggestions, reach out to me on Reddit at u/roipoiboy or on
Discord at mi comet#5147! (That’s right...new discord name...I got locked out of my old
account since the last issue was published!)
Page 19
03 On Feeling Things
by Christian Evans
The ability to express what you are feeling is one of the most basic and important aspects
of speaking a language. It allows you to easily express how you’re feeling in the moment
about someone or something, which can either spur a conversation on or end it. For learn-
ers of Gallaecian whose first language is English, being able to express emotions can be a
challenging affair. Between sometimes dramatically different words used to assign differ-
ent feelings and unusual syntax that completes what Irish Gaelic partially employs, talking
about feeling some type of way can really make you feel some type of way.
This article explores the expression of emotions in Modern Gallaecian when they describe
nouns, stand in for quantities of people, are used to describe the state someone is in, and
when they are used to describe the manner of some action. It explores speaker preference
when more than one option is available, as well as the distinct way in which superlatives
are formed for adjectives of emotion.
Feelings as labels
Gallaecian’s adjectives of emotion perform a two-fold duty. They are used with nouns as
regular descriptors, sometimes metaphorically (akin to how a speaker of English might say
something like That’s an angry wound.) and can be used as substantives in their own right
to distinguish one noun from a set or to refer to a collection of people who experience the
emotion used.
Qualifying a noun
As adjectives, emotions are no different in their use than any other descriptive word. They
follow the noun that they modify and take on the gender, number and case marking of their
head.
Page 21
Modern Gallaecian
None of the adjectives related to emotion can be preposed, so they pose less of a problem
to learn than adjectives like sen ‘old, aged’ or maro ‘grand, great,’ of which the latter also can
appear after the noun. Learners will, however, need to contend with multiple words that
express what might feel like the same emotion. For example, English afraid can be translated
with ounagh, medagh, temoragh, escalagh or amenimo, depending on the shade of fear
being described.
The one way that these adjectives do differ from other adjectives is the way that they
can form superlatives. Like others, they can use the strategy of pairing a definite article
with a comparative adverb and an adjective: em mair verragh ‘the angriest.’ They can also
take the uncommon superlative suffix: verrasso ‘angriest.’ Lastly, there is almost always a
semi-superlative form derived from the noun that represents the emotion: verroso ‘wrathful,
angriest.’ This last form can also be further intensified by using a comparative adverb and
definite article before it: em mair verroso ‘the most wrathful, angriest.’
An emotional being
As with other adjectives, emotions can be used as nouns that represent either a singleton
in a set being described by the word or as a group that embody it, similar to English or
Galician. The latter is common in every-day speech, but is also encountered in poetic or
religious contexts frequently.
Page 22
Feelings things
Widely used in Gallaecian are nouns that refer to emotions. Not only do these function
as abstract references to different feelings, many of them are also personified and spoken of
as though companions when actions are performed. Both uses of nouns of emotion will be
discussed in more detail in this section.
The verb tañe ‘to be’ can be inflected differently to express different tense, mood and
aspect differences to do with the emotion. No other part of the sentence needs to change
besides the verb. Note that it is only the temporary copula tañe ‘to be’ that is used for this
construction as the permanent copula budañe ‘to be’ requires the used of adjectives and
would imply that the emotion is part of the described person’s nature or is something that
doesn’t change.
(10) Tasa verra are mi in em bare so, eito bisu laviña are mi enoite.
Ta -sa verra are mi in em bare so eito bi
be -1.SG.PST anger before me in DEF morning.DAT this.M.SG.DAT but be
Page 23
Modern Gallaecian
Alongside this construction are workarounds for emotions that instead rely on prepositions.
The most commonly encountered preposition for this is co ‘with,’ but speakers may use other
prepositions in different dialects. This is akin to the adverbial use of the noun ‘pride’ in
English in the sentence ‘She stood with pride.’ The same sentence can be rendered in a nearly
identical manner or with the adjective-to-adverb construction.
Page 24
(17) Si ine baile sistasa.
Si in -e bail -e sista -sa
she DEF -LOC proud -F.SG.LOC stand -3.SG.PST
“She stood with pride.”
Despite the ability to use both, native speakers show a strong preference for nouns over
adjectives when possible. This is, perhaps, because of the restricted use of the locative case,
as the dative has become the standard for use with prepositions.
Expressing yourself
To close this journey of heart and tongue, it seems only appropriate to offer a full lesson
in self-expression—at least in terms of emotions. This will cover asking how someone is
feeling, telling someone what it is you’re feeling, and a selection of noun-adjective pairs to
describe just what it is you might be feeling.
Note that Gallaecian has a typical Indo-European T-V distinction, so if you don’t know
the person you’re asking or want to include a level of formality, you would used the plural
pronoun sue ‘you [all]’ and its corresponding inflection of the verb taide ‘you [all] are.’
I'm doing...
The questions above are both answered using the strategy mentioned above, where the
emotion is treated as the subject of the sentence and the experiencer is included after the
Page 25
Modern Gallaecian
preposition are ‘before, in front of.’ Another option available to the person answering one of
the latter two questions is to simply respond with either the adjective-to-adverb construction
for the first or by just stating the noun of emotion for the second.
(23) Gride
Gride
yearning
“Yearning.”
Or: “I am yearnful.”
Though not recorded yet, there does seem to be some restriction on which nouns and
adjectives can be used in this way. It would make for a suitable topic of future research.
A crop of feelings
Below is a table of related nouns and adjectives that refer to the same emotion. They can
be used in phrases such as those in the previous example. There are obviously significantly
more terms, both adjectives and nouns, that capture other shades of emotion, but this is just
meant as a simple introduction to get a person speaking.
Noun Adjective
Happy laviño launo
Sad broño broñagh
Angry verra verragh
Proud useila balgo
Yearnful gride gridagh
Anxious amenimaso amenimo
Nostalgic sireito sireitagh
Table 1: Nouns and adjectives of emotion
Page 26
04 Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
by +merlan #flirora
A historical perspective
As a constructed language with a history of over eight years, Ŋarâþ Crîþ has changed
significantly during its existence. Nouns are no exception to this rule. In this article, we
review the development and current state of nouns and their related topics in Ŋarâþ Crîþ.
Due to a growing antipathy against Spanish, I decided to steer the language’s grammar
away from Romance-like tendencies, making it more like Japanese. This change of direction
began the late Necarasso Cryssesa era, which includes NCS5 and NCS6.
After NCS6 and a failed attempt to retrofit diachronic evolution into Necarasso Cryssesa,
I focused my efforts on other languages, such as Ḋraħýl Rase and Varta Avina, seeing
Necarasso Cryssesa as a dead end. At the end of 2018, however, I somehow had the idea
of creating version 7 of the language, with significant departures from previous versions of
the language. The conlang was now called Ŋarâþ Crîþ2 .
After working on version 7 of Ŋarâþ Crîþ for a while, I felt that not only was it growing
stale, but that it also had major flaws. Therefore, I started working on Ŋarâþ Crîþ version
93 . Currently, this version is quite recent; as a result, it is less complete than earlier versions.
1
After all, necarasso cryssesa literally meant “forest language”.
2
Which also means “forest language”.
3
This version also moves from PDF- to HTML-based documentation.
Page 27
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
f and v were labiodental until VE3 ENCS. The status of /j/ was complicated. In early
Necarasso Cryssesa, i followed by a vowel (without a diaeresis) was understood to be /j/. In
addition, it was required to follow a consonant in that case, such that /j/ would otherwise
have to be written as ri, such as in rialad ‘to lead’ or nesmeria ‘star’.
NCS5 made a minor revision the orthography, such that /j/ was now written as j in all
cases, so that the two words above would be written as jalad and nesmeja. In addition,
/t/ and /s/ became [t͡ʃ] and [ʃ] before /i/ or /j/, and these changes were reflected in the
romanization.
The phonology of Necarasso Cryssesa prescribed a fixed set of permitted endings. Here,
the ending of a word is the rime of its final syllable. Otherwise, the syllable structure was
(C(r|l|j)|cv|css)V((r|l)C). For instance, navgonerlla ‘interface’ has a v coda in the first syl-
lable but was still phonotactically valid in Necarasso Cryssesa.
We now look at the phonology of Ŋarâþ Crîþ. The phoneme inventory (Table 3) is isomor-
phic between versions 7 and 9, although some phonemes are realized differently between
Page 28
Labial Dental Alveolar Palatal Velar Phar.
Plosive p /p/ t d /t d/ č /t͡ʃ/ → /t͡ʂ/ c g /k ɡ/
Fricative f v /f v/þ ð /θ ð/ s /s/ š /ʃ/ → /ʂ/ h /x/ ħ /ʕ/
(cþ [x͡θ])
Approximant r /ɹ/ j /j/ ([w])
Lateral approx. l /l/
Lateral fricative ł /ɬ/
Nasal m /m/ n /n/ ([ɲ]) ŋ /ŋ/
Front Back
High i î /i ḭ/ → /i ì/ u /u̜/
Mid e ê /e ɛ̰/ → /e è/ o ô /o ɔ̰/ → /o ò/
Low a â /a a̰/ → /a à/
Table 3: The phoneme inventory of Ŋarâþ Crîþ. If the IPA is shown as ‘/X/ → /Y/’, then
the phoneme is realized as X in ŊCv7 and as Y in ŊCv9.
the versions.
Some sounds that were allophones in Necarasso Cryssesa were promoted to phonemes.
Additionally, the vowel inventory was expanded: the existing four vowel qualities received
creaky-voiced variants (low tone in ŊCv9), and a high back vowel u was added. u was intro-
duced to transcribe foreign words more accurately, but it became used for some inflections
in ŊCv9.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ does away with an ending list, instead subjecting all syllables to the same coda
restrictions. In addition, the list of allowed codas is independent of the nucleus.
Initial consonant mutations are a major part of Ŋarâþ Crîþ phonology. Lenition tends to
turn plosives into fricatives, and makes some phonemes silent. It is written using a mid-
dle dot, after the lenited consonant. Eclipsis tends to add voice to voiceless consonants
and change voiced stops into nasals. It is written by prefixing the eclipsed consonant with
another letter representing the new sound:
(3) lê dtano
/lɛ̰ dano/
“this bird”
In this article, lenition that will be triggered in a neighboring context is marked with a
superscript H, H , and eclipsis is marked with a superscript N, N .4
4
Usually, these mutations are marked with an empty circle and a filled circle, respectively, but the font in
this document doesn’t have these characters.
Page 29
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Both Necarasso Cryssesa and Ŋarâþ Crîþ have their own scripts, but we use their romaniza-
tions throughout this article. Traditionally, Necarasso Cryssesa romanization is bicameral,
with capital letters being used at the starts of sentences and proper nouns.
On the contrary, Ŋarâþ Crîþ romanization tries to be isomorphic to the native script, Cen-
vos. Because Cenvos is unicameral, the romanization does not use capital letters in the same
way as in English.5
Cenvos also uses special letters called markers to indicate special treatment of certain words
(Table 4). To avoid confusion with markers, we prefix ungrammatical expressions in exam-
ples with two asterisks instead of one.
Grammatical categories
This section covers the history of which grammatical categories have been expressed in
nouns.
Case
In the beginning, Necarasso Cryssesa had no case marking in general – in fact, not in
the personal pronouns. Oddly enough, however, even VE1 ENCS had a case distinction in
the interrogative pronouns: one set was used for the nominative case and also served as
determiners, and the other was used for oblique cases.
VE3 ENCS added a set of possessive pronouns, introducing another precursor to a case
system. VE4 ENCS went further and added genitive forms for nouns (although the existing
constructions using the preposition eas or the descriptive affixes -esa or -eva remained).
Inanimate nouns were declined differently from animate nouns, and a separate system of
‘honorific’ genitives existed. Furthermore, an adjective modifying a genitive noun would
receive a special prefix.
NCS5, in line with moving toward Japanese, added a binary case system between the nom-
inative and the oblique, although forms for these cases were not always distinct for a given
word and number. In addition, it had a set of ‘constructs’ that could replace a postposi-
tional phrase. This system expanded on the genitive forms of VE4 ENCS and the descriptive
affixes that existed since the beginning. A given postposition did not necessarily map to
only one construct; for instance, NCS5 had separate comitative and instrumental constructs
for a single postposition cynsso. In practice, constructs were rarely used compared to their
postpositional equivalents.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 has twelve cases (Table 5). Although ŊCv7 has postpositions, none of its
cases can be replaced with a postpositional phrase.
5
The capital letters A to F are used for the digits 10 to 15. It’s #flirora, not “fifteen-lirora”, damn it!
Page 30
Case Use
Nominative The subject of a clause; also the citation form.
Accusative The direct object of a clause.
Dative The indirect object of a clause; also the most dominant case to use with
postpositions. Also used as a vocative.
Genitive Shows such things as possession, composition, description or apposition.
Locative Shows location or time: ‘at, on’.
Ablative Shows a cause or origin: ‘from, since’.
Allative Shows a destination: ‘to, toward, until’.
Prolative ‘through, during’
Instrumental Used with a comitative or instrumental meaning: ‘with’. Not generally
used with an ornative meaning.
Abessive The negation of the instrumental case: ‘without’.
Semblative I Shows resemblance in appearance.
Semblative II Shows resemblance in behavior. On a nominalized verb, ‘such that’, ‘as
though’, or ‘to the point that’.
Table 5: The cases of Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7.
The first four cases comprise the core cases. These cases are the most commonly used. The
nominative, accusative, and dative cases are used for the arguments of a verb (as elaborated
in a later section).
The next four cases are the locational cases. They form an aesthetically pleasing group
(Figure 1) and can be used both spatially and temporally.
The last four cases are the sundry cases, forming two pairs of related cases.
The major flaw of Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7’s case system is that some cases are rarely used – in
particular, the ablative, allative, prolative, and semblative I cases. Because Ŋarâþ Crîþ tries
to fit in common participants of an action into the core arguments of verbs, non-core cases
are used less often than anticipated. In nelsit ‘(S) goes to (I)’, for instance, the destination
is the dative argument of the verb. As a result, the allative case is not necessary to specify
the destination of nelsit. The semblative I case is rarely used for another reason: having to
express its meaning is rare in the first place.
With this information, Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 trims the case system down to eight cases: nominative,
accusative, dative, genitive, locative, instrumental, abessive, and semblative (semblative II in
ŊCv7).
Page 31
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Figure 2: The history of cases. Parentheses in the NCS5 column indicate constructs.
Number
VE1 ENCS had only two numbers: singular and plural. By VE2 ENCS, the dual number
was added. Being exempt from the NCS5 witch-hunts, this three-way number distinction
survived to ŊCv7. Note that the dual can be used even when the objects in question are not
paired.
ŊCv9 adds an additional number, the generic. A noun phrase in the generic number refers
to something in general or as a concept. It is used on noun phrases that do not refer to a
specific referent or referents.
Gender
Early Necarasso Cryssesa had masculine and feminine genders. The gender of a noun was
determined by its form: any nouns with the ending -os, -on, -or, -ios, -ion, -ior, or later -el
were masculine, and all others were feminine. Adjectives, articles, and long numerals agreed
in gender with nouns. Gender also determined which affix was used to form a descriptive
adjective from a noun (namely, -esa for masculine nouns and -eva for feminine nouns).
Lastly, third-person personal pronouns were split according to gender.
Page 32
Unlike number, gender was not immune from the NCS5 witch-hunts and was absent from
late Necarasso Cryssesa6 . Its expulsion from the language involved choosing one form where
there was a gender distinction:
• The feminine form was chosen for existing adjectives. (Adjectives now had number
agreement instead.)
• Articles and long numerals were conveniently banished from NCS5 with gender.
• Third-person pronouns used the masculine forms.
• The descriptive construct used -esa for all nouns.
• Inanimate genitive nouns were inflected as if they were feminine.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 reintroduced gender, but because having a sex-based system was considered
unacceptable, it instead has three genders: the celestial and terrestrial genders correspond
formally to the old feminine and masculine, and the human gender is used for humans. In
ŊCv7, gender is not entirely predictable from the word ending, even when ignoring the
human: socon ‘angle’ is celestial (coming from Necarasso Cryssesa oscona) and respe ‘fog’
is terrestrial (from resvel).
Verbal participles, the closest equivalent to adjectives in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7, agree with the
noun they modify in case and gender. In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9, the situation is more complicated:
genus 2 verb participles agree with their heads in case and number instead.7
Demonstrative determiners gained gender agreement in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7. Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9
separates basic personal pronouns and possessive clitics by gender in the third person, and
the long numerals from 1 to 6 agree in gender as well as case.
Definiteness
Early Necarasso Cryssesa had the definite articles iss and issos. The lack of a definite
article implied that a noun phrase was indefinite.
These articles were removed in NCS5, although in Late Necarasso Cryssesa, iss was repur-
posed into a superlative adverb. It survives today in the word iþalar ‘god of a monotheistic
religion’.
Noun declensions
In the beginning, noun declension was almost as trivial as in Japanese:
VE2 ENCS brought the dual number. The dual of a consonant-final noun was formed by
appending its final vowel plus -n; the dual of a vowel-final noun involved reduplicating the
initial syllable with more complex rules.
The dual and plural forms were seen as too verbose; they added one syllable to the singular
forms. For that reason, VE4 ENCS overhauled the dual- and pluralization rules (Table 6), with
6
In fact, Late Necarasso Cryssesa lacked any way to say ‘male’ or ‘female’!
7
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9, each verb is assigned to a species, which governs how its relative forms are derived.
Species that work in a similar way are grouped into genera.
Page 33
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
In late Necarasso Cryssesa, nouns are also inflected for case. The oblique forms are derived
from the nominative forms with the same number by appending -n (replacing any existing
final consonant).
Genitive forms were added in VE4 ENCS. Inanimate genitives were formed by replacing
the ending with a suffix depending on the type of ending (categorized roughly by their coda
consonant), the number of the noun being genitivized, and the ‘gender’ (Table 8). It is not
clear whether the ‘gender’ category in the VE4 ENCS documentation refers to gender of the
head noun or the genitive, but given that it specifies that the number is of the latter, and
that categories that contain words of only one gender nevertheless have suffixes specified
for both, the latter case is more likely. Late Necaraso Cryssesa adopted only the feminine
forms of inanimate genitives.
Animate genitives in VE4 ENCS appended -el or -yl (depending on the gender of the noun
being genitivized) to a number-inflected noun, changing any existing final -l to -r-. In NCS5,
the ending is -el for noun forms ending in -s or -ss, -ryl for those ending with vowels, and
-yl to all others.
In VE4 ENCS, honorific genitives append -os or -ar to animate genitives ending with -el or
with -yl; in NCS5, the former suffix is -or instead.
The inessive construct (more accurately described as a locative) in NCS5 uses a paradigm
similar to the inanimate genitive. Other constructs are derived by various prefixes and
suffixes, but they are beyond the scope of this article.
Page 34
Masculine Feminine
Ending Singular Dual Plural Singular Dual Plural
-a, -e, -i, -o -eson -esnos -esnor -asa -asar -asan
-as, -es, -is, -ys -esos -esosor -esoson -asas -asnas -asnan
-an, -en, -yn -inos -inon -inor -ica -icen -irnena
-ass, -ess, -yss, -erss -essos -esson -essoros -essa -essno -essenar
-el, -yl -el -el -el -yl -yl -yl
-os -on -osros -osroson -osroros -esra -esran -esrena
-or -oros -ororon -ororos -era -eran -erena
-ar, -er, -yr, -ir -yros -yron -yronor -yra -yrar -yro
Table 8: The genitive suffixes for VE4 ENCS.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 overhauls the declension system; instead of applying number and case inflec-
tions independently, it declines nouns for both categories together paradigmatically. Nouns
are divided into 11 paradigms by the ending of the lemma form. There are seven ‘celestial’
paradigms: -V, -Vs, -VN, -Vr, -Vþ, -Vrþ, and -Vl. Celestial paradigms require three princi-
pal parts: the nominative singular, the locative singular, and the semblative I singular. In
addition, a noun in one of these paradigms has a thematic nucleus (namely, the V, with an
optional j before it), which is notated in the documentation as 0. Other nuclei are derived
from the thematic nucleus; the exact details vary by paradigm, but to summarize:
• 1 is a backed version of 0, and 1’, if it exists, replaces o with e and jo with ja.
• Nuclei that are some kind of 2 are raised or fronted (but u is lowered to o). 2’, if it
exists, is a depalatalized version of 2.
• 3 turns a into o and all other vowels into i.
Case \ Number Singular Dual Plural
Nominative N-0C N-0c N-1(C)
Accusative N-0n, -aC0n N-0ŋ N-1n, -aC1n
Dative N-0s, -0þa, -0Cas N-0(C)ci, -0(C)c(C)i N-1(C)s, -1Cas
Genitive N-2n, -2r N-2c(i(r)), -2ri N-3n, -3r
Locative L-0s, -0þ0 -0Cas L-[02]sac, -0C0c, -0saŋ, 0Cac L-1(C(a))s
Ablative L-[02](C)sa, -0þ0, -0Cas L-[02]Csac, -0s0, -0cCas L-2sta, -2s0, -1Csa, -1Cas
Allative L-[02](C)(l)a, -0ł0, -0[rl]þa L-[02](C)(l)ac, -0ł0c, -0[rl]þac L-2lta, -2ł0, -1(C)(l)a, -2[rl]þa
Prolative L-[02](C)na, -0sn0, -0nþa L-[02](C)nac, -0sn0c, -0nþac L-1(C)na, -1sn0, -2nþa
Instrumental L-[02]ca, -0c(r)þ[0a], -0ŋa L-[02][hc]ac, -0(r)cþ[0a]c, -0ŋac L-2cta, -1(r)cþ[0a], -1ŋa, -1ca
Abessive L-2(C)þa, -2ð0 L-2(C)þac, -2ð0c L-3(C)þa, -3ða
Semblative I S-ic, -iŋ S-ic S-icþi
Semblative II S-it, -i[rsl], -i(r)þ S-i[csŋ]t0, -i[rl]c(þ)o S-2t, -2[rl]
Table 9: A rough overview of celestial paradigms in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7. This table is not ex-
haustive; in particular, thematic vowels are mentioned only by the base number, without
any modifiers. (For a detailed guide, consult the Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 grammar.)
The remaining four paradigms are ‘terrestrial’ paradigms. Three of them (-os, -or, and -on)
have four principal parts: the nominative singular, the locative singular, the instrumental
singular, and the semblative I singular. These paradigms do have a ‘thematic vowel’, but it
is used solely to account for both o and ô, which differ in the presence of creaky voicing.
Here, 0 is the thematic vowel, and 1 is e or ê, matching 0 in creaky voicing.
Unlike in celestial paradigms, the instrumental and abessive forms of nouns in terrestrial
paradigms are circumfixed. In the abessive forms, the root is lenited:
Page 35
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
(7) cjagenčon
INSTR-name-INSTR.SG
The last paradigm mentioned is the -el paradigm. This paradigm uses six principal parts:
the nominative, accusative, genitive, locative, instrumental, and semblative I singulars. We
use 0 to denote the thematic vowel (e or ê), and 1 is o or ô, matching 0 in creaky voicing.
There are additional rules for nouns whose lemmas are monosyllabic (Table 12).8 The
accusative singular suffix for non-terrestrial nouns depends on the letter sum9 of the nomi-
native singular form.
8
In the grammar, the entries of the genitive and dative rows were switched from how they are shown in the
table, but the table in this article shows actual usage. This switch happened because of a bug in an automatic
declension tool for ŊCv7.
9
Each letter is assigned a value, and the letter sum of a word is the sum of the values of each letter.
Page 36
Case \ Number Singular Dual Plural
Nominative -∅ -∅ -ar / -or
Accusative -en, -an, -in / -on -as / -os -as / -os
Dative -i -ic -ir
Genitive -a -ac -o
Table 12: Special declensions for monosyllabic nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7. When a cell has
two entries separated by a slash, the suffix or suffixes on the left are for celestial and human
nouns and the suffix on the right is for terrestrial nouns.
In addition, all dual or plural genitives that are multisyllabic or ambiguous with the geni-
tive singular are eclipsed.
While Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 noun declension is a textbook example of table hell, it is possible to
discern some patterns:
• Dual forms tend to add a c somewhere, possibly fusing with a nasal into ŋ.
• Accusative forms tend to add a n.
• Dative forms tend to add a s, possibly fusing with another s into þ.10
• The ablative case is associated with s, the allative with l, the prolative with n, the
instrumental with c, and the abessive with þ.
• The semblative I singular ends with -c, and the semblative II singular ends with -t.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 retains the paradigmatic approach to noun declension with multiple princi-
pal parts. Although each paradigm has constraints on what kinds of lemmas are allowed, it
is no longer possible to infer the paradigm of a given noun from its lemma alone. Table 13
gives a summary of these paradigms. Note that the list is still incomplete and new paradigms
might be added. At the minimum, a paradigm for quality nouns derived from verbs (ending
in -erþ) is planned.
Paradigms 5, 11, and 12 are meant to be used for monosyllabic nouns, although multisyl-
labic nouns are also allowed in these paradigms.
10
This happens because the phoneme θ was written as ss in Necarasso Cryssesa.
Page 37
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Some lemma forms that were valid in ŊCv7 are not valid in ŊCv9 (even if they are phono-
logically valid), most notably those ending in creaky (or low-tone in ŊCv9) vowels such as
nemsâ (in ŊCv7, ‘star’). As another example, -an nouns no longer have their own paradigm
and must either use paradigm 5, 11, or 12 or change their forms.
We do not attempt to list the endings of each paradigm here, even in abridged form. The
curious reader may consult the relevant section of the grammar11 .
Nominal modifiers
The nominal modifiers of Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 include:
• ‘Det’:
– Determiners, including demonstrative determiners, interrogative determiners, and
quantifiers
– Ordinal numerals
• ‘Num’:
– Cardinal numerals, as well as the interrogative numeral met
• ‘A’:
– Noun phrases in the genitive or a non-core case
– Pronomial possessive clitics, with an optional possessor in a possessive construc-
tion
– Relative clauses
Analysis in Theoretical Ŋarâþ Crîþ Syntax indicates that the structure of the noun phrase
is most likely [Det [[A [N]] Num]] (or [Det [Num [A [N]]]] in the case of an ordinal or
indefinite numeral). A prosodically heavy A, however, is moved before a Det:
Page 38
Moving prosodically lighter As before Dets sometimes reduces ambiguity:
(12) lê mîþen vrômas «ercjel melirner» nel cenčon veła. Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7
lê mîþ - en vrôm - as «ercj - el melirn - er»
this.CEL/HUM ruler - GEN.SG book - LOC.SG shield - GEN.SG legacy - NOM.SG
nel cenč -on veł-a.
QUOT.GEN name -NOM.SG exist -3SG
“This book that belongs to the ruler is entitled ‘The Legacy of the Shield’.”
Or: “This ruler’s book is entitled ‘The Legacy of the Shield’.”
Some modifiers are separable – they can be moved away from their heads. Modifiers that
show rich agreement, such as relative clauses and long numerals, tend to be separable,
while modifiers with less agreement, such as demonstrative determiners or short numerals,
are not. Hyperbaton – taking advantage of modifier separability – can be used to dramatic
effect:
(14) ceras aranten circþimînsa mîr anljaþaŋ noršidir šinos censaþ. Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7
cer - as arant - en circþim - însa mîr anlj
survive - REL.NOM,DAT.CEL long_time - GEN.SG battle - ABL.SG after hurt
-aþaŋ noršid -ir šin -os cens -a -þ.
-REL.ACC,NOM.HUM warrior -NOM.SG all -DAT.SG equal -3SG -PST
“After the long battle, only the injured warrior remained.” (ŊCv7 grammar)
REL
PPH ROOT
SBJ
ATT PPC REL
IND
Sentences such as (14) do not imply that syntactic discontinuities are rare in everyday
speech.
Page 39
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
The nearest head rule states that if a modifier could modify more than one word based
on agreement and direction, then it generally modifies the nearest one. Exceptions to the
nearest head rule exist, such as in a double crossing structure on a coordinated noun phrase:
A naïve interpretation of the nearest head rule would interpret (15) as “in the deep, cold
cave and the lake”. Theoretical Ŋarâþ Crîþ Syntax posits a “best head rule” that generalizes the
nearest head rule, assigning scores to each possible modifier-head relationship. The score of
a relationship is initially the distance between the modifier and the head but can be leveled
with another relationship to give them the same score.
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ, pronouns are understood to be distinct from nouns syntactically. Table 14
compares the behavior of different types of pronouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 to that of nouns.
Page 40
Some types of pronouns can take an A, but only if the A do not denote ownership or
association:
Personal pronouns
VE1 ENCS had nine personal pronouns, and VE2 ENCS added four more for the dual. VE3 ENCS
changed the first-person plural pronoun to avoid homophony with the third-person feminine
plural, as well as adding possessive forms.
NCS5 removed not only the feminine pronouns but also the impersonal pronoun. NCS6
introduced a set of obviate pronouns used when multiple third-person referents are present.
The first two, ela and emta, were the demonstrative pronouns, followed by three suppletive
pronouns enros, ton, and senca, then pronouns formed with re- plus a short numeral: redo,
remja, relen &c. This system did not survive into Ŋarâþ Crîþ.
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ, ordinary personal pronouns are defective and lack forms for the core cases.
ŊCv7 introduced forms for three persons, the remaining eight cases, and the three numbers.
ŊCv9 divides the third-person pronouns by gender. In terms of agreement, first- and second-
person pronouns are treated as celestial.
Page 41
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Ordinary personal pronouns are considered to be in their own category, p, and avoid
manifesting as free morphemes. That is, they would rather hide inside an affix or clitic.
When an ordinary personal pronoun is forced to manifest in a core case (for instance, when
it is modified by a relative clause), it is homophonous with the corresponding emphatic
pronoun.
Instead of possessive pronouns, Ŋarâþ Crîþ uses possessive postclitics. ŊCv7 has three
different clitics: =’pe, =’ve, and =’(a)c for first-, second-, and third-person possessors,
respectively, without any number marking. Again, ŊCv9 divides the third-person clitic into
three separate forms by gender: =’(a)c, =’oc, and =’(o)r for celestial, terrestrial, and
human possessors.
The third-person possessive clitic is also used in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 in the double-marked pos-
sessive construction, in which the possessee takes the =’(a)c clitic and the possessor takes
the ’=(e)þ clitic:
The possessor and the possessee agree in case. This construction is obligatory when using
the noun aliþ ‘something other than’ to negate a noun phrase:
In one case, aliþ has taken the role of the possessor instead:
Page 42
This sentence contains another error anyway (the clusive pronoun ceva should be in the
dual number instead), so it’s probably best not to trust it.
However, the use of a possessive to indicate the subject of a nominalized verb phrase is
now limited to pronominal subjects; as a result, this sentence would now be translated as
such:
In any case, the possessive construction was often more verbose than the alternative using
genitives, so it fell out of use unless necessary. For instance, the song cerecaþa artfaþo
(“Forgotten City”) does not use the possessive construction at all.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 inherits the mechanics wholesale from v7, but admits that its use other than
with aliþ is rare. aliþ could be replaced with the nominalized form of the relational ema
‘(S) is different from (O)’, but the latter end up longer than forms of aliþ (although genitives
can be used for the ema-nouns, reducing this advantage).
Clusive pronouns
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7, ceva acts as a first-person inclusive pronoun, and cela as a first-person
exclusive pronoun. Both are used only in the dual or plural; as a result, they never appear as
their lemma forms in the wild. Unlike ordinary personal pronouns, clusive pronouns have
forms for all cases.
Emphatic pronouns
Emphatic pronouns are used to mark focus on a pronominal referent. In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7,
they are formed using the reflexive pronoun cem plus the appropriate possessive clitic.
Unlike ordinary personal pronouns, emphatic pronouns have forms for all cases.
Page 43
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Necarasso Cryssesa had nemesa as the reflexive pronoun and cypra as the reciprocal.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7, on the other hand, has cem for both. The grammar lists these rules for how
it is bound:
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 added the possibility of marking a reflexive or reciprocal object (distinctly)
on a verb or a relational (the closest equivalent to an adposition). An independent reflexive
or reciprocal pronoun is not yet decided.
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7, a pronominal accusative or dative argument of a verb may be reflected
in an object affix. Object affixes depend on the person and the number of the argument in
question, and they may not be redundant with an explicit object:
Page 44
(30) **#saþo cêpon’pe elteþa vraþjeleþ.
#saþ -o cêp -on =’pe elt -eþa vraþj -e -le -þ.
NAME -NOM.SG cattle -ACC.SG =POS.1 river -DAT.SG lead -3SG -3SG -PST
Intended: “#saþo led my cattle to the river.”
Object affixes fall between the subject suffix and the tense suffix in finite forms (as seen
in (29)), but before the stem in relative forms (as in (22)).
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9, object affixes for verbs and those for relationals both mark for gender
in the same way as postpositional prefixes in ŊCv7. (There is no gender distinction in the
generic number.) ŊCv9 also has object affixes for reflexive and reciprocal objects:
• Axis I:
– interrogative or relative, nominative (‘what’)
– interrogative or relative, oblique
– proximal demonstrative (‘this’)
– distal demonstrative (‘that’)
– universal (‘all’)
– assertive existential (‘some’)
Page 45
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Not all cells were full. Some of the tabelvortoj had separate adverbial forms; the rest could
be used as adverbs as-is (where it made sense to do so).
VE3 ENCS removed the ‘thing (which)’ row from axis II, and VE4 ENCS added ‘action’ and
‘order’ rows to axis II; the former held pro-verbs and the latter held the interrogative deter-
miner venan ‘which-th?’
NCS5 used the same categories as VE4 ENCS but with different words; additionally, some
cells that were empty in VE4 ENCS were filled in NCS5. The interrogative pronouns no longer
functioned as relative pronouns because the method of creating relative clauses changed.
In Necarasso Cryssesa, multiple negation was not used with the negatory pro-forms:
Ŋarâþ Crîþ treats demonstrative, interrogative, and indefinite pro-forms and determiners
separately. We mainly discuss ŊCv7 because it is better documented in this regard.
The demonstrative determiners and pro-forms of Ŋarâþ Crîþ are listed in Table 17. The
pronouns elgren and emgren are always singular and have irregular forms for six cases.
The animate pronouns ełan and emtan are generally used only in formal language; the
inanimate pronouns are colloquially used for all referents. Furthermore, endir is more
formal than ina.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ has two quantifiers: the universal šino and the existential nema. They are
pronouns by default, but their genitive forms can be used as determiners. It lacks any
Page 46
Proximal Distal
Determiner (celestial or human) lê N tê N
Determiner (terrestrial) el om
Pronoun (inanimate) ela emta
Pronoun (animate) ełan emtan
Pronoun (place) elgren emgren
→ locative eši eči
→ ablative esa eta
→ prolative ensa enta
→ instrumental esaŋ etaŋ
→ abessive eþa eða
→ semblative I elsic eltic
Pronoun (time) endir, ina
Pro-verb ħelit
Table 17: Demonstrative words in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7.
negatory or non-universal quantifier, as clauses that desire them can negate the verb, using
a universal or existential quantifier instead.
Nested quantifier scopes are ordered by linear order, such that the quantifier appearing
the earliest in a clause corresponds to the outermost layer of quantification:
In other words, (35) fixes a possibly different value for nema for each member of šino,
while (36) fixes the value of nema before considering each member of šino.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ has the pronouns pas for ‘something or someone else’ and paða ‘another member
of the same class as GEN’:
(37) le vesaneþa šino paðan ŋgenin ve os m irm arit menes. Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7
le ve - san - eþa šin - o pað - an ŋ\
IMP 2SG - be_satisfied - REL.DAT,NOM.CEL all - NOM.SG other - ACC.SG CDARG\
gen -in =’ve os m ir- m ar -it men -es.
skill -ACC.SG =POS.2 INF.DAT (INF.DAT)\CMP- say -INF see -2SG
“Make sure that everything that you are satisfied with is said to show more skill than
other things of the same class.”
Or: “Be satisfied with nothing but your best.” (CSTC #165)
Page 47
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 has words for quantities: mel for ‘many, much’ and dân for ‘few, little’.
These can act both as determiners (without inflection) and as pronouns. In version 9, the
determiner and pronoun forms are distinct: mel vs. denfo and dân vs. danen.
Version 7 lacks a way to express a majority or minority of something. Version 9 has the
nouns &denfo and resa for those respective concepts.
Coordination
VE1 ENCS had a single set of coordinating conjunctions (Table 18).
Conjunction Gloss
ner ... ner ... ‘... and ...’
ner ... ena ... ‘... but ...’
... ci aro ... ‘not ... but rather ...’
ce ... ce ... ‘... or ...’
ce ... cssar ... ‘... xor ...’
Table 18: Coordinating conjunctions in VE1 ENCS.
Since the negation particle ci after a coordinated phrase was assumed to apply only to the
last coordinand, cynto was used before one to negate the whole phrase.
VE4 ENCS added the option to replace the first coordinating particle with me (except in ...
ci aro ...) to specify that the coordinands were non-exhaustive. This extension was limited
to VE4 ENCS.
NCS5 distinguished between noun phrase coordination, verb phrase coordination, and
clausal coordination. Noun phrases were coordinated by adding a coordinating affix to
all except the first coordinand: -ce for ‘and’ or ‘but’ (the latter meaning optionally disam-
biguated by ena in NCS6), -te for ‘or’, and -re for ‘xor’. The accusative -n was attached to
the coordinating affix in this case.
Verb phrases were coordinated by conjugating the verbs of all but the last coordinand in
a converbal form, replacing the infinitive ending with -yme, -yge, or -yre.
Clauses were coordinated in the same way as in VE4 ENCS. NCS5 also introduced additive
clausal conjunctions, which extend a previous sentence. They are ša for ‘and’, cen for ‘or’,
and cssen for ‘xor’.
NCS6 specified that choice questions used disjunction but added geto before the second
option:
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7, noun phrases are conjoined by placing a clitic on all but the first coordi-
nand. If the first coordinand (or any before the last) is pronominal, then a fused coordinator-
pronoun clitic is placed on the last coordinand.12
12
In ‘but not’ phrases, only one such clitic can exist.
Page 48
Operation Basic X=1 X=2 X=3 Number from
X and Y =’ce =’cjo =’gjo =’cil X+Y
X or Y =’te =’čo =’djo =’čil Y
X xor Y =’re =’pre =’vre =’ril Y
X but not Y =’ne =’njo =’mjo =’nil X
Table 19: Clitics for nominal coordination in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7.
Note that coordinator-pronoun fusion occurs discontinuously over the last coordinand:
(40) tisa’nil
tis -a =’nil
mouse -NOM.SG =but_not.3
“it but not a mouse”
In (40), the underlying structure can be seen as (p:3SG) tisa’ne. This example suggests
the structure shown in Figure 4.
Verbal coordination has two types: reduced coordination and emergent coordination. Re-
duced coordination indicates that the component actions are separate without forming a
coherent whole; emergent coordination indicates that they are considered to form a larger
coherent action. That is, emergent coordination can be used to form a kind of serial verb
construction.
Reduced coordination is done similarly to verbal coordination in NCS5; the verbs of all
coordinands before the last are placed into a converbal form (with affixes in 20, but the
affixes are now variant over the infinitive ending.
In emergent coordination, the final -t of the infinitive is replaced with -rþ if the next word
starts with a vowel or a plosive followed by a vowel, and with -þ otherwise.
Page 49
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
In any case, Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 does not distinguish between verbal and clausal coordination.
NCS5’s additive clausal conjunctions were inherited into ŊCv7 as the head particles ea
‘and, therefore’, veŋ ‘or, alternatively’, and ai ‘but, however’.
Numerals
Since its inception as Necarasso Cryssesa, Ŋarâþ Crîþ has had a base-16 numeral system.13
VE1 ENCS came with only one set of numerals (later called the long numerals), which came
after the noun and declined for gender. Ordinal numerals were formed with erse plus the
corresponding cardinal; they started at one14 :
VE4 ENCS introduced a parallel set of short numerals, which were not declined. They were
used when a numeral was used as a noun. When used as determiners, both the VE4 ENCS
grammar and the tutorial15 specified that the last term was expressed as a long numeral and
the preceding terms as a short numeral:
13
The long numerals in Early Necarasso Cryssesa had a mixed base-16–32 system: ermessa = 16, allasma
= 32, allasmarmessa = 48 &c.
14
Hence why Necarasso Cryssesa versions started at VE1 ENCS.
15
https://github.com/bluebear94/necarasso-cryssesa-tutorial
Page 50
(43) enyr senflenlensradepremo VE4 ENCS
en -yr sen- flen- len- srad- eprem -o
tree -PL 2.SHORT- 256.SHORT- 7.SHORT- 16.SHORT- 3.LONG -F
“627 trees”
In VE4 ENCS ordinal numbers were expressed by putting their short forms before the noun.
They became zero-indexed, with negative ordinals expressing items from the end à la Python:
Short numerals supplanted long numerals and were used as determiners in NCS5:
While NCS5 switched from a dominantly head-initial order to a head-final one, cardinal
numerals remained head-initial. NCS5 had an optional counter system, but it saw little use
because of its optionality.
NCS5 was also the first version to specify that vyl ‘one’ and ces ‘zero’ also meant ‘yes’ and
‘no’.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7 reintroduces the long numerals from 1 to 16, declined for case, while re-
taining the short numerals. Counters are now required for short numerals, except when the
noun is a unit of measurement or is sar ‘thing, something, someone’ or ðên ‘occurrence, event,
time’.
As in late Necarasso Cryssesa, ordinal numerals start from zero and precede the noun. The
first four are suppletive, agreeing in a subset of cases, but the rest are homophonic to the
short numerals.
Page 51
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Because long numerals agree with their heads, they are separable; however, the short
numerals and the ordinal numerals (even for 0 – 3) are inseparable.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 distinguishes long numerals from 1 to 6 by gender. In addition, it fuses the
word for sixteen, sraþ, with the unit digit in some cases.
Word formation
Ŋarâþ Crîþ has two primary means of word formation: compounding and derivation.
Noun-noun compounding existed since VE1 ENCS. This kind of compounding was head-
final. NCS5 did not mention any type of compounding, but NCS6 did. In addition, NCS6
specified other forms of compounding, such as adjective-noun and verb-noun compounding.
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7, noun-noun compounding is head-final; in addition, the head noun is
lenited if it is plural or not terrestrial but not any form of vês ‘system’. Verb-noun com-
pounding is also specified: the infinitive form of the verb minus -t is used for this situation.
In v9, the head is lenited if it is neither terrestrial nor any form of vês. The v9 grammar
also specifies that principal parts of compound nouns are derived from the head, with the
dependent part being invariant.
VE1 ENCS specified agent (inanimate vs. animate, with the latter further distinguished by
gender), action, product, patient, and location derivations of verbs. For adjectives, it speci-
fied a derived noun for “the quality of being ...”, with VE4 ENCS adding a derivation for “the
measure of how ... something is”. VE1 ENCS also had a negative prefix that applied not only
to nouns but also to adjectives and prepositions. From nouns, VE1 ENCS had the descriptive
affixes -esa and -eva, forming adjectives.
NCS5 retained these derivational strategies but removed any gender distinctions, while
NCS6 added new derivations such as the agent derivation for adjectives and the co-agent
derivation for verbs.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ also adds a set of calculus affixes (shown in Table 21). For nouns describing
a measurable quantity, these affixes derive the derivative or integral of that quantity with
respect to some variable:
Page 52
With respect to... Derivative Integral
Time -mitra- -arcja-
Space (1D) -cþivo- -jando-
Space (2D) -relen- -senna-
Space (3D) -marša- -ganto-
Population -gille- -grija-
Table 21: Calculus affixes in Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7.
Nouns describing measurable objects can take the -gille- affix to describe the amount of
that object per person.
Of course, these affixes can also be applied to other words such as gradable stative verbs
(where they become infixed).
Rolemarking in verbs
Necarasso Cryssesa largely conformed to English-like role-marking, but at least in its late
stages, I was linguistically conscious enough to keep verbs from being labile. The NCS6
dictionary, for instance, lists two entries for ‘to burn’: senad as a transitive verb and šyncryd
as an intransitive verb. Other verbs such as vesscyd ‘to close’ needed the causative prefix
do- to make them transitive.
In the ŊCv7 dictionary, 175 verbs were listed as intransitive, 165 as transitive, 128 as
semitransitive, 66 as ditransitive, and 46 as auxiliary16 .
16
The large number of auxiliary verbs stems from the lack of adverbs (shifting some of their function to
auxiliary verbs), as well as the lack of a single means of negation (requiring suppletive negative forms). Indeed,
NCS6 had only 14 auxiliary verbs in its lexicon.
Page 53
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
The case frame of a verb is somewhat arbitrary, and the labels nominative, accusative, and
dative do not always line up with their conventional definitions, instead having to do more
with the literal meaning of ‘direct’ and ‘indirect’ objects. Namely, accusative arguments
are often perceived as having an action forced upon them, while dative arguments lack
such a connotation. In fact, dative arguments are often used in verbs describing states or
relationships.
An agent or force of an action, if expressed in the case frame, tends to be in the nominative.
A theme or a patient of an action tends to be in the accusative or dative case.
Verbs of experience usually have either the experiencer in the nominative and the stimulus
in the dative, or the stimulus in the nominative and the experiencer in the dative.
Verbs tend to assign core cases to salient participants of an action (hence the large number
of ditransitive verbs). However, some verbs have entries listing participants assigned to non-
core cases such as asnat ‘(S) rises to (ALL)‘, nagrit ‘(S) coats (O) with (INSTR)’, or vescit ‘(S)
is needed by (ABL)’. The most notable of these is eþit ‘(S) exists; (LOC) has (S)’ and its
negative telit, which are used for predicative possession.
Nevertheless, some verbs do not follow this rule. Table 22 shows pairs of semantically
similar verbs that mark roles in different ways.
In some pairs, one of the verbs was coined early in the development of Ŋarâþ Crîþ. For
instance, anagrat was coined on July 26, 2019, while the more thematically typical ilrit was
coined on April 21, 2020. varit came into being within a month of the language’s creation,
on January 10, 2019; in contrast, while caršonłat was coined on July 21, 2020. (However,
censit is even older than varit.) Not all pairs can be explained this way: ecljat was coined
on August 28, 2019, but cþîšat, the syntactic outcast, only existed since January 15, 2020.
In other pairs, the action described by one of the verbs can be seen as being more forceful
toward the patient than the other action. oreþmat and cencrit form such a pair, as do
aimit and maldit. Among ditransitive verbs, cimrit marks the recipient of the message in
the accusative, while cimþrit does so in the dative, because lying is seen as more hurtful to
the one being lied to than telling the truth.
Yet other verb pairs, such as marit and cemat, have no special reason for having different
role assignments other than for asymmetry.
In Ŋarâþ Crîþ, the concept of asymmetry (fliþe in ŊCv7) refers to the presence of a prop-
erty in some members of a grammatical category and its absence in other members thereof
that one might hence expect to have it17 . Asymmetry, which is related to the concept of ir-
regularity, is one of the guiding principles of Ŋarâþ Crîþ that distinguishes it from Necarasso
Cryssesa.
Page 54
Semitransitive Transitive
censit ‘(S) equals (I)’; caršonłat ‘(S) is not varit ‘(S) is one of (O)’
one of (I)’
menat ‘(S) sees (I)’ crešit ‘(S) hears (O)’; calit ‘(S) smells (O)’
ecljat ‘(S) is far from (I)’ cþîšat ‘(S) is near (O)’
nelsit ‘(S) goes to (I)’ ninłit ‘(S) goes to (O) habitually’, cehit ‘(S)
reaches, arrives at, comes to (O)’
vinašit ‘(S) excites or angers (I)’, anhit ‘(S) nacšit ‘(S) bores (O)’
is pleasing to (I)’
naclidit ‘(S) trips over (I), cjašit ‘(S) falls selgit ‘(S) slips on (O)’
into (I)’
cerjat ‘(S) implies (I)’ lepit ‘(S) is uncorrelated with (O)
cencrit ‘(S) complies to (I)’s orders’ oreþmat ‘(S) commands (O)’
tfałat ‘(S) teaches (I)’ sarat ‘(S) learns (O)’
ročit ‘(S) imagines (I)’ racrit ‘(S) knows (O)’, asmelrit ‘(S) dreams
about (O)’, orit ‘(S) thinks, believes, opines
(O)’
naðat ‘(S) finds (I) valuable’ veŋcat ‘(S) calculates or computes (O)’, lem-
rat ‘(S) evaluates the worth of (O)’
maldit ‘(I) is important to (S)’ aimit ‘(O) is unimportant to (S)’
vardrit ‘(S) leaves (I) alone, (S) ignores (I), cerecit ‘(S) does not know about, ignores, for-
(S) refrains from bothering (I)’ gets (O)’, derðat ‘(S) disturbs, distracts, both-
ers (O)’
ilrit ‘(S) does not fit well with (I)’ anagrat ‘(S) hides from, fits in with, belongs
to (O)’
Dative Secundative
cimþrit ‘(S) tells (O) to (I)’ cimrit ‘(S) tells a lie (I) to (O)’
marit ‘(S) says (O) to (I)’ cemat ‘(S) gives, offers (I) to (O)’
Table 22: Examples of semantically similar verbs with different case frames in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
v7.
This style, named pointfree glossing by analogy with pointfree programming, was also
adopted by Necarasso Cryssesa.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ, on the other hand, adopts pointed glossing – in the dictionary, all participants
of a verb are marked:
In (50), (S) is a placeholder for the nominative argument of the verb and (O) is a place-
holder for the accusative argument.
Ŋarâþ Crîþ is not the only language to adopted pointed glossing; among my conlangs, this
practice was done with some verbs in the Ḋraħýl Rase dictionary and with all verbs for Lek-
Tsaro. Well-known conlangs with a convention of pointed glossing include Lojban19 and
19
https://la-lojban.github.io/sutysisku/en/
Page 55
Nouns in Ŋarâþ Crîþ
Okuna20 . This practice is particularly prevalent in the Japanese conlanging sphere: Arka21
and Shaleian22 mark verb participants, although the former often leaves the subject implicit.
The primary advantage of pointed glossing is that it gives precise information about how
each verb marks its participants with less reliance on the metalanguage. Nevertheless, it
also has some downsides: it can obscure patterns of role marking between different verbs.
Moreover, it fails to show constraints on things such as the agency of the subject of transitive
verbs: are the sentences in (51) idiomatic, or do you have to say (52) instead?23
When there are programs, there are bugs, and bugs there were in decline.pl6. Notably,
when special declensions for monosyllabic nouns were added, the dative and genitive rows
were specified in the wrong order in the program. This error went unnoticed and ultimately
became the correct usage.
The inflection program for Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 is f9i, which is written in Rust. Unlike decline.pl6,
f9i can also inflect verbs and relationals. The program is used primarily in batch mode to
generate HTML that will be displayed in the dictionary page.
Automating inflection allows more complexity in that area, but it also discourages changes
to inflection that would require heavy code refactoring. It can also encourage an ‘embar-
rassingly tabular’ style of describing inflection.
In terms of documentation, the grammar for early Necarasso Cryssesa used Microsoft Word,
but late Necarasso Cryssesa was documented using LATEX, as was Ŋarâþ Crîþ v7. The Ŋarâþ
Crîþ v7 dictionary was stored in a separate file, from which a script called dict-to-tex.pl6
generated LATEX output.
Realizing that web pages were a better option for screen reading, I decided to use Pollen24
to document Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9. The dictionary is stored in a Racket module written in a custom
language, and it is rendered to HTML output with the help of f9i.
20
http://pearson.conlang.org/download/okuna_dict_cur.pdf
21
http://mindsc.ape.jp/klel/
22
https://dic.ziphil.com/
23
It is unlikely that a single answer is possible for all transitive verbs in Ŋarâþ Crîþ.
24
https://github.com/mbutterick/pollen
Page 56
In conclusion, Ŋarâþ Crîþ has turned from a conlanging project into a conlanging and
programming project.
Conclusion
After months of planning, Ŋarâþ Crîþ v9 began development on June 1, 2021, succeeding
ŊCv7 over two years after its inception. Because it is quite new, ŊCv9 is not yet as mature as
ŊCv7. The current goal for ŊCv9 is to fill these gaps, using translations of example sentences
as an aid to do so. That is, features are added as these example sentences demand them.
One of the sentences in the Conlang Syntax Test Cases25 , for instance, highlighted the need
for trivalent relationals such as one for ‘across ... from ...’ and prompted their creation.
25
https://cofl.github.io/conlang/resources/mirror/conlang-syntax-test-cases.html
Page 57
05 Of Nouns in Òzém
by cyxpanek
A Bantuinspired conlang
Intro
Òzém is spoken by a relatively small group of people, dispersed across a large inland delta
in an otherwise arid desert environment, being rather isolated except for the occasional
traders, minimizing contact with others. The language is known for its distinctive prefixes on
nouns, which indicate membership in a group of nouns which are loosely based on themes,
however these have been mostly eradicated. Other features are the existence of labial-velar
and pre-nasalised stops.
The present article will give an overview of the noun classes that are used in Òzém to
classify nouns and as agreement markers for verbs and other word types. Furthermore, it
will discuss what strategies exist to derive nouns, be it from verb stems or elsewhere.
Phonological Notes
It’s not particularly necessary to discuss the phonology of the language in great detail. For
all examples and tables, the practical orthography will be used, which does not differ from
the phonemic values very much. The main differences are the use of <y> for /j/, <j>
for /dʒ/, and <c> for /tʃ/. Òzém is tonal, and all tones are written, including on syllabic
nasals. Furthermore, next to the phonemic and phonetic levels, a third morphophonemic
level is used to describe tone patterns and to have better analyses of some phonemic pro-
cesses. This is notated with vertical pipes like so |Ǹ|, here a homorganic nasal with inherent
low tone.
Regular Nouns
Nouns are almost always made up of two main parts:
Page 59
Òzém
For example, a word like àtwáŋ, ‘stick’, can be broken up like so:
(2) à- + -twáŋ
In most nouns, the root gives almost all the meaning, with the prefix only signifying num-
ber and what agreement prefix needs to be used.
There exist some edge cases in which the prefix is no longer visible at first glance, but it
is still possible to notice it in certain contexts. In yet other cases the regular class paradigm
presented hereafter in this section is broken partially or completely. First however, the way
most nouns work is presented.
The prefixes are organized into 13 historically grounded noun classes. One noun class
does not equal one prefix though, for most there are two sometimes very different prefixes
depending on the initial phoneme. The 13 classes are then grouped to form 7 pairs of
singular/plural prefixes, with one plural class corresponding to two distinct singular classes.
The roots themselves do not inflect, instead simply the prefix is changed to switch from
singular to plural or vice versa. There are also no cases.
This table is, at first, quite confusing. Let’s start from the top. A “C Prefix” is used in front
of roots that begin with a consonant. This is the case for most noun roots. Predictably, the
“V Prefix” is used in environments with a vowel at the beginning of a root. All consonant
prefixes carry tone, while the tone has disappeared in almost all vowel prefixes, save for the
two classes that are marked as having |L+| in the table. I’ll get back to this and explain it
and |Ǹ-| in a moment. In the right-most column the classes’ gender relations are described,
which describes the singular/plural pairs that noun classes form.
Some of the classes have a broad semantic theme, with the most clear one being human
nouns in classes 1 and 2. The numbering and order of all classes is arbitrary, with the
exception of “Humans” there seems to be no cultural significance given to any of the classes.
Page 60
thereof, but four prefix cases are special. First, |Ǹ-| and /ə̀-/, from the consonant prefixes
of classes 2 and 10.
The simple part is when |Ǹ-| and /ə̀-/ are used. This rule is simple, in front of stops it
is the so-called “homorganic Nasal” |Ǹ-|, while in front of liquids it is always /ə̀-/. The
homorganic nasal conforms to the place of articulation of the following consonant, while
keeping syllabicity and tone. So if the first consonant is /p/, the prefix would take the form
/m̀ -/. Before I said that the roots do not inflect, however, this does not mean that they do not
change form. In conjunction with this nasal prefix, root-initial |s| and |z| change to /tʃ/ and
/dʒ/ respectively. This does not however happen with the other fricative |v|, which stays
as is. The result of the application of this prefix is also that some nasal-nasal word-initial
clusters happen, with the first nasal being syllabic and carrying tone, just as with stops.
The other part is |L+|. This is a floating low tone. I could make some table with tone
patterns, and I did in a previous draft, but tone patterns are neither the topic of this issue,
nor did I myself understand them after a few days. Instead, four simple rules. Each rule is
accompanied by an example showing just the changed tone pattern, from the morphophono-
logical level to the phonological level, and an example with nonsense words.
(3) High tone spreads from a high tone syllable to a following low tone, replacing it (but
not spreading further), also across words.
a. LH LH → LH HH
b. |bàbá bàbá| → /bàbá bábá/
(4) Floating low tones in front of other low tones block the spread, essentially absorbing
the high tone spread.
a. LH L+LH → LH LH
b. |bàdá L+dàbá| → /bàdá dàbá/
(5) If the floating low tone appears in between two high tones, the second high tone gets
downstepped. It’s still a high tone, but with a slightly lower tone than the previous
high tone.
a. LH L+HH → LH ꜜHH
b. |tàbá L+gágá| → /tàbá ꜜgágá/
(6) If a floating low tone follows a low tone, nothing happens and it essentially disap-
pears.
a. LL L+LH → LL LH
b. |zàzà L+dàbá| → /zàzà dàbá/
Phonological processes cause |ɔ| to turn into /wa/ between consonants. Thus the example
for classes 5/7 -wámán does not count as a consonant-initial root.
Page 61
Òzém
Especially insidious are classes 4, 6, 11 and 12, since here the C and V prefixes only
differ by the existence of a vowel, and vowel-initial roots may be indistinguishable in those
classes from consonant-initial ones, with their plural (in class 11’s case the singular) totally
unpredictable.
Additional Classes
So far the classes I have discussed were pretty simple. Each singular got its plural, and all
roots got two separate forms for both. And now, for the other bits, those where the system
gets more complicated again. First, there are those nouns that are only either singular or
plural. For example, a plural-only noun:
This noun describes a liquid, it has the class 9 prefix, which is a plural class, but the regular
singular equivalent does not exist.
First off, the morpheme mà is invariant in contact with vowels or consonants, and does not
change form. Furthermore, while it itself is low tone, it carries a floating high tone after it,
causing the first tone in the root to become high. In the above example this doesn’t surface,
since it is already high tone, but in general, this morpheme is notated as màH.
Page 62
Then there is the reverse, a noun that ordinarily only exists in the singular, like many
abstracts such as emotions:
Of course, sometimes a speaker does desire to speak of many fears, but the plural is not
j-ɛ̀lɛ́dà. For these nouns, no special morpheme exists to differentiate between the singular
and plural, so the meaning is up to interpretation. Of course, numerals and other quantifiers
exist to assist in this.
So far I mentioned the “regulars”, those nouns that simply work with a singular and a plural
prefix, then those that only use one of the two, and have special rules for the other. Now
the best ones, those that fall out of the regular roster of noun classes completely. These are
customarily called “genderless nouns”, henceforth NCL0 in examples. Interestingly, some
very different types of nouns fall into this category. For one, there are many common nouns
such as kinship terms, such as ámà ‘my mother’ and ɛ́tà ’my father.’1 For another, they
include many loanwords, especially those where it is not possible to fit them into the class
prefix System easily. As expected, genderless nouns don’t really share any features, except
of course being outside the standard class paradigm. As stated before, genderless nouns may
also be either inherently singular or plural.
First, let’s talk about singular genderless nouns. These are words like the aforementioned
ámà ‘my mother’ and ɛ́tà ‘my father’, but also loans from other languages, although due to
the relative isolation of Modern Òzém in the past centuries, these are rather rare. There
are also other words that fall into this category, rather randomly, see ŋmàz ‘solar eclipse’.
Whatever the origin and type of word, they all share a way to create a plural, which is done
by the prefix tɛ́H, which works the same as the earlier màH.
Note the changed tone in this example. Now, there are also some genderless nouns that
are already in the plural as a base. The same is done as for the singularized plural nouns,
and màH is prefixed with the same rules.
Unlike the single-gender nouns in the paragraphs above, which always have a base class
and thus a corresponding agreement pattern, the genderless nouns are different again, in
that there are several agreement patterns. First, genderless nouns in their base form always
follow the NCL1 ì-/j- pattern, no matter the animacy. Those taking tɛ̀H as their plural follow
the NCL9 ɛ̀-/d- pattern. If they use the singular màH instead, they follow the NCL6 mà-/m-
pattern.
1
As opposed to the example from a previous section, z-àdé, ‘father’, which refers to other peoples fathers.
The same with ‘mother’.
2
Thanks Luy!
Page 63
Òzém
Moving Roots
I ought to very briefly mention that not all roots, but certainly how they have been pre-
sented until now, have at most two classes assigned to them, commonly a singular and a
plural class. Some get by with just one or none of the regular classes, but they still have
strategies for defining a plural or part of it, as well as what agreement patterns for verbs
and adjectives are used. However, the world is not as simple and rigid as this, and there are
some roots that may take more than two. These are called “moving roots for their ability to
move between prefixes and to take on different meanings. This is especially used for agent
nouns that are directly or indirectly derived from meanings in other classes, for example:
These derivations also sometimes include a change of tone or vowels, or additional suffixes,
but as there are too many strategies and not one clear path these won’t get included in this
article.
Page 64
Noun Phrases in
06 Wochanisep
by Lysimachiakis
This article will focus on describing the noun phrase in Wochanisep and will delve into
nominal morphosyntax. There will be discussions of noun class, case and role marking, va-
rieties of modifiers, diminutive structures, derivational affixes, and compounding strategies.
Page 65
Wochanisep
Absolute Marking
All nouns in Wochanisep can take a suffix known as the absolute, a term adapted from the
‘absolutive’ seen in languages such as Nahuatl. The absolute is a required element of any
bare, ‘unmarked’ noun; a noun is ungrammatical if it does not have some suffixed marking,
and the absolute fulfills that role in certain contexts. The absolute could be considered by
some analyses to be an absolutive case marker, as these forms appear for absolutive nouns,
though this analysis is not without its problems. In another analysis, the absolute markers
are seen as remnants of an archaic, defective noun class system. There are some tendencies
in which nouns take which absolute marker that lend some credence to this idea, but if it
is indeed true, then the system has long since degraded past the point of being meaningful.
In its current form, the absolutes are indicative of a class system that is almost entirely
phonological in nature.
-t -p -h
-ts -ch
The suffixes seen above attach directly to a noun root; they are not interchangeable.
These forms are used as-is in when they are used in an absolutive role in a sentence.
Because these forms are so routine, they are not typically indicated as separate morphemes
when glossing.
Derivational affixes carry with them their own inherent absolute marker, and thus change
the absolute that would be used with the root noun. In (4a) below, the addition of another
morpheme changes the word’s absolute form from -ts to -t, while in (4b) there is no original
absolute, though the nominalizer brings its own -p.
Page 66
(4) a. wats ‘son’ + -wako ‘elder’ Ñ was-wako-t ‘eldest son’
b. tachikomew ‘to listen’ + -tsa ‘NMLZ’ Ñ tachikome-tsa-p ‘listening’
Ergative
The ergative case is used to mark the agent of a transitive clause. It is marked by the
morpheme -an. With the plosive absolutes -p -t -h1 , this additionally adds a coda nasal
preceding the absolute. With the affricate absolutes -ts -ch, they lenit to -s -sh respectively.
Any noun receiving ergative marking is always unambiguously definite.
Page 67
Wochanisep
The ergative is used as a fossilized agentifier in some nouns. While these forms are not
productive, they do not decline differently for ergative or absolutive case. Perhaps the most
common example of this is wintat ‘partner; spouse’, from the verb win ‘to wed.’
Locative
The locative is a generalized case that indicates a location or directional source/target. It
is often paired with postpositions to refine their intended meaning. Table (2) below shows
the basic paradigms for locative marking on nouns. Generally speaking, the morpheme is
considered to be -wot, but its surface forms are varied depending upon the absolute of the
stem.
Absolute -t -p -h -ts -ch
Locative -tsot -wot -wot -swi -shawi
Table 2: Locative Marking by Absolute
Page 68
a. moch ‘hair’ Ñ moshawi
b. kapach ‘beak’ Ñ kapashawi
To show that a subject performs an action accidentally or otherwise outside the control of
the speaker, you can use the locative plus the postposition naw. The postposition naw ‘at,’
is derived from nah ‘feet.’
Possessed
The possessed case is marked on the head noun in a possessive construction. The possessor
is typically unmarked. The morpheme is thought to be -waw, which typically causes lenition
of the absolute marker.
Absolute -t -p -h -ts -ch
Possessed -saw -haw -waw -chaw -shaw
Table 3: Possessed Marking by Absolute
Page 69
Wochanisep
This case stacks with other cases, an example of Suffixaufnahme in the language. The
possessed case will occur first before any other cases.
The possessed case has one particularly interesting usage, functioning as a sort of copular
identity expression. It can be thought of as the two arguments ‘possessing’ each other. This
can result in statements that are seemingly ambiguous, as with (25), where there may be
multiple layers of possession; in practice, though, the possessed marker can stack multiple
times. There is one major syntactic difference, though: in non-copular clauses, nouns act
attributively on other nouns by preceding them and agreeing in case with the head noun; in
copular clauses, on the other hand, an attributive noun does not partake in case agreement.
As can be seen by (25), in some ways the possessed form carries some verbal qualities,
in that it can be marked for tense; no other case arrangements are able to be marked in
that way, it is something unique to the possessed case. This occurs outside of the copular
construction, and can occur on the possessed marked noun to mark former possession, as in
(27) below.
Page 70
(27) Kiset wintasawathet
Kise -t wintat -waw -thet
Kise -ABS partner -POSS -PST.DIS
“Kiset’s ex-husband”
Modifiers
A noun may be modified by other nouns used attributively, by scalar affixes on the noun
root, by demonstratives and numerals, and by relative clauses (which won’t be discussed
much here).
Attributives
Adjectives do not exist as a distinct class in Wochanisep. Any noun can function as an
attributive for another noun, describing it and narrowing its meaning. When a noun is used
this way, it can interpreted as having the meaning ‘being characterized by X’ or ‘X-like.’
Animate Inanimate
Paucal na- wo-
Plural isi- kewi-
Table 4: Plural Prefixes
In addition to these prefix forms, when a noun takes animate paucal marking, there is an
additional -n suffix; this suffix typically replaces the absolute marker, but if there are other
suffixes on the noun, the -n suffix will apply to the rightmost affix, as can be seen with
na-pots-ime-n in example (30) below.
The way in which paucal and plural are used is always specific to the context.
3
The onet root veggie is white and is used in this context to refer to that color.
Page 71
Wochanisep
(30) Tsontsip maka himpe napotsimen piwi, nantokat chewe isipots pa.
tsontsip maka himpe na - pots - ime -n pa - iwi nantokat
village hundred three AN.PA- person - THREE - PL there.is - CONJ family
chewe isi- pots pa
eight AN.PL- person there.is
“There are 303 people in the village, and eight people in my family.”
In (30) above, a village having 303 people is not out of the norm, and so pots ‘person’ takes
the animate paucal prefix na-. On the other hand, a family of eight is quite large, more than
would be expected for a typical Panishot family, and so here pots takes the animate plural
prefix isi- instead.
Numerals
1 ta / -mata 6 wana
2 ko / -kse 7 opse
3 himpe / -ime 8 chewe
4 anta / -nta 9 paw
5 tsat / -sat 10 mono
Wochanisep uses a simple base-10 system, with what looks to be some remnants of an
older base-5 system in place in some aspects of the system. Typically, numerals precede
the noun they modify and follow a smaller-to-bigger ordering. If the ones-place number is
five or less, it is instead suffixed directly onto the noun. In these cases, the number occurs
between the root noun and the absolute.
The word tah ‘thing; place,’ a kind of generic ‘catch-all’ noun, can be used with counting
and for referencing numbers for which the noun has already been stated. For animate nouns,
ket ‘kid; bud’ is used instead.
Page 72
(33) Na, kikoch monothawa pa wa?
na kikoch mono -thawa pa wa
hey stone ten -Q there.is Q
“Hey, how many stones are there?”
Mono taksat (pa)
mono tah -sat (pa)
ten thing -FIVE (there.is)
“Fifteen.”
This partitive construction is used preferentially over the possessed construction for talking
about body parts. When used this way, the numeral suffixes cannot be used.
And then this use itself seems to have extended further to be used with descriptive nouns
to form superlatives.
Page 73
Wochanisep
The suffix -choho occurs between the root and the absolute and indicates a large quantity
or high degree. The exact interpretation depends upon the type of noun to which it is affixed.
If the noun is a concrete one, referring to a physical entity within the world, then it is an
expression of quantity. Then, if the noun is singular, it refers to a group; if it is paucal, it
refers to a large number; if it is plural, it refers to an extremely large number. If it is an
abstraction or otherwise non-tangible, then it refers to degree.
a. watsithit ‘fishes’
b. atsithichohot ‘a school of fish’
c. watsithichohot ‘many fish; a lot of fish’
d. kewatsithit ‘a lot of fish’
e. kewatsithichohot ‘a huge number of fish’
a. nachosot ‘friends’
b. chosochohot ‘a group of friends; very friendly’
c. nachosochohot ‘many friends; a lot of friends’
Examples (37b and (39b) show how the suffix can be used as a type of collective derivation.
They also show, along with (38b), that when they are used attributively, they indicate a high
degree akin to ‘very.’
To a large degree, the use of choho- and the use of isi-/kewi- are interchangeable. The
plural markers are much less frequently seen in attributive position, and choho- seems
strongly preferred there, but beyond that distinction, the difference between the two seems
largely decorative, with speakers defaulting to one or another perhaps for phonaesthetic
reasons.
Page 74
(41) chosochohot pots (42) #isichosot pots
choso -choho -t po -ts isi- choso -t po -ts
friend -much -ABS person -ABS AN.PL- friend -ABS person -ABS
“very friendly person” Intended: “very friendly person”
The moderate degree suffix -piko is used to indicate that there is enough of something,
given the larger context. Example (43) shows it in a case where the larger context is under-
stood (how much food is needed), while (44) sets the context using the partitive construction
described in example (34a); in this usage, the noun is repeated as the whole, with the -piko
piece being the ‘part.’
This form appears often in attributives as a qualifier for the modifying noun.
Like with -choho above, -piko can co-occur with plurality marking, though once again,
plural marking is quite uncommon in attributive position. Because the marker itself limits
many number interpretations, the use of the paucal vs. plural is entirely about expectations.
In that way, in this context they function like a nominal mirative.
Page 75
Wochanisep
The low degree scalar affix -nkimi is used to indicate a low degree or low quantity. As
with the other degree markers, this has no implication on expectations, which are handled
via the paucal-plural distinction.
Quantifiers
In Wochanisep, universal quantifiers (and some existential quantifiers) are directly related
to conjunctions. Conjunctions are free morphemes, while their quantifier uses are used in
attributive position and agree in absolute marker.
The noun modified by these quantifiers does not take any marking for number.
4
Referring to a subset (multiple entities) from a larger grouping
5
Referring to an indefinite entity from a larger grouping
Page 76
(51) a. kip tomap b. nikop tomap
ki -p toma -p niko -p toma -p
all -ABS farmer -ABS any -ABS farmer -ABS
“all farmers” “any farmer”
c. tosep tomap d. kip ta tomap
tose -p toma -p ki -p ta toma -p
some -ABS farmer -ABS all -ABS one farmer -ABS
“some farmers” “every farmer”
e. nikop ta tomap f. tosep ta tomap
niko -p ta toma -p tose -p ta toma -p
any -ABS one farmer -ABS some -ABS one farmer -ABS
“each farmer” “some farmer”
When used without the absolute marker (or any other case marker relevant to the clause),
they act simply as conjunctions.
Demonstratives
Wochanisep makes a three-way distinction in distance with demonstratives, as well as a
obligatory affix indicating whether the location is above ground or below ground that occurs
only with the distal.
The demonstratives can act as a type of nominalizer. The choice of demonstrative de-
pends on whose action is being nominalized; ma is used when the nominalized action is
one performed by the speaker, te when it is the 2nd person, and woshi/wose when it is
someone/something that is not a speech-act participant. So, in (54) below, the 2nd person
referrent is assumed by the use of te as part of the nominalizing strategy, and in (55), the
1st person would be assumed due from using ma.
Page 77
Wochanisep
Diminutives
Wochanisep makes use of three productive diminutives on nouns. One is more used to
indicate affection and somewhat about size, while the other is mostly about size but can
also be used for affection. The third is one which demonstrates respect and closeness. Most
diminutive patterns cause lenition of the absolute, following the pattern in table (8) below.
The pattern is largely similar to the one seen in the forms of the possessed marker seen in
(3) earlier. Additionally, these suffixes occur last, after case marking and any other suffixes
the noun root might take.
i Affectionate Diminutive
The affectionate diminutive -i is almost exclusively used on nouns for family members
and friends, as well as on their names. It applies to the absolute form of a noun and lenites
the absolute. Nouns marked with this almost always demonstrate an inalienable possession
relationship between the speaker and the referrent, making possessive marking largely irrel-
evant with these words. When used this way, it is almost exclusively used for relationships
within the speaker’s generation or lower; otherwise, the respect diminutive -isha is used.
With inanimates, it is typically restricted to culturally significant items.
Page 78
isha Respect Diminutive
To indicate respect to an older relative, mentor, or other person with whom someone is
very close, the respect diminutive -isha is used. This is often affixed to names and is used
to refer to those people even when they are a speech-act participant (used preferentially
over the 2nd person pronouns). On names, this often replaces the last syllable, and can
be used in ways that are not overtly predictable, as in (58) below. It can also be used
to refer to an individual from a larger group or institution, as in (59), in effect acting as
a respectful singulative. Because these forms are less predictable, it seems that within the
Panishot-speaking community, their exact usage differs between idiolects, sometimes within
a single idiolect, in which some will treat this suffix the same as -i and apply it after any
other morphology, while others will attach additional morphology to the -isha form as if
it were a root. It is likely that the latter of these two surface forms is due to the irregular
forms it creates; the morphology is slapped onto the irregularized root rather than the basic
root. In this way, this suffix may be better thought of as a respectful derivation marker than
anything. The -isha suffix forces primary stress to be placed on that /i/, overriding other
stress placement rules.
Derivations
There are many derivational affixes in Wochanisep. This is just a few of the more common
ones and is not meant to be an exhaustive description of all possible derivations in the
language.
6
Used to refer to someone who does not contribute, pull their weight, or put in as much effort as they
should
Page 79
Wochanisep
kets Agentifier
Verbs can be nominalized into an agentive via the suffix -kets. This suffixes directly to
the verb, often resulting in -nkets. If the verb ends in /w/, though, it takes the form -wets.
In the case of some verbs, it is not an active agent, but rather one who has entered into a
permanent resulting state, as in (61d).
This affix can also be affixed to a possessed noun to indicate ‘owner of X’ or, when used
with a location noun or a group noun, ‘leader of X.’
a. chachowaw ‘penguin-POSS’
b. chachowawets ‘penguin-owner’
a. Tsimakehaw ‘Tsimakep-POSS’
b. Tsimakehawets ‘leader of Tsimakep’
ontoh Scent
The derivational suffix -ontoh indicates the scent or smell of the head noun. It is affixed
directly onto the absolute.
With non-physical nouns, this suffix is quite productive in creating words meaning ‘(what)
seems like.’ Using nouns like this is preferred to using verbal expressions.
Page 80
If this is attached to a nominalized verb, then the meaning is closer to ‘style’ or ‘manner.’
Often, this is used to mean ‘how to X.’
If one wished to convey a sense like ‘the scent of swimmimg,’ as in ‘It smells like you were
swimming,’ then the agentive noun is used.
Compounding
Nouns can be compounded with other nouns by dropping the absolute of the first noun
and cliticizing the second onto it. Wochanisep compounds are left-headed.
Compounded merisms, where two things associated are stated to mean a larger concept,
are also quite common. These make use of an affixed -ki ‘and’ after the first element of the
compound. These are mostly examples of decorative speech, but some are fully lexicalized
and do not have a non-merism equivalent.
Page 81
Wochanisep
These compounds and merisms can take case marking just like any other noun. They are
treated as a single phonological word for purposes of stress assignment.
WrapUp
Wochanisep is a new language for me, but I’m really enjoying playing around with it,
fleshing it out, developing little features, and giving it its own unique character. This is
just an introduction to Wochanisep’s nouns and I hope to continue expanding upon this as
I progress with the language’s development. This article will likely become the foundation
for the chapter on nouns in the full language documentation. Special thanks to Miacomet
for his help with proofreading and providing feedback! If you have any questions or com-
ments, please feel free to reach out to me on Reddit at /u/Lysimachiakis or via email at
[email protected]. Thank you for reading!
Pacha, sa nachosot!
Adios, amigos!
Page 82
Nominal morphosyntax in
07 Pigáxio
by tryddle
A synchronic perspective
Hey y’all, my name is tryddle and in this article I will talk about the different facets of
nominal morphosyntax in Pigáxio from a synchronic standpoint.1 Pigáxio is a Cariban a
posteriori set on the banks of the Culuene river in the Upper Xingu national park of Mato
Grosso, Brazil. The Pigáxio moved to this region in the late 1800s, and were forced into
diaspora by an unknown cause in the 20th century. Since then, the majority of Pigáxio
people have assimilated both culturally and linguistically with the tribes they live with. As
of 2021, there are only two dozen speakers of Pigáxio left, all of which are living among
the Kuikúro, another Carib-speaking people. Due to the extreme proximity, the newest
generation of Pigáxio almost exclusively speaks Kuikúro among themselves, only talking in
their mother language when speaking with their parents or grandparents.
In this article I will consider several aspects of nominal morphosyntax in this language.
I will primarily focus on possession, but I’ll also talk about number, postpositional phrases
and nominal tense. Now, let’s get started!
Possession in Pigáxio2
In this section I will consider possessive constructions in Pigáxio, while also giving some
insight on how other Cariban languages handle them.
Page 83
Pigáxio
cases, there is a suffix which marks the noun as being possessed. Two basic examples are
given below; (2) from Akuriyó and (3) from Pigáxio.
Form
_V _C
1 j- u-
2 aw- a-
3 ∅- i-
3R t- tɨ-
1.INCL k- kɨ-
1.EXCL tʃih- tʃi-
LK j-/∅- –
Table 1: Pigáxio possessive prefixes
The first column represents the abbreviation of the marker. I will go into detail about that
later. The second column presents the respective forms when attached to a vowel-initial
noun, while the final column depicts the allomorphs that are used when the noun begins with
a consonant. The 1, 2 and 3 forms trigger vowel change so that an stem-initial ə turns into
e, which may have severe morphophonological consequences, and causes irregularities in
some noun paradigms. The 1.EXCL marker tʃi(h)- is a recent innovation caused by proximity
to Kuikúro, where a similar marker ti(s)- exists (dos Santos, 2007, p76 and Franchetto, 1986,
p158). Now onto the first column: from top to bottom those represent the a) first person,
b) second person, c) third person, d) third person reflexive, e) first person inclusive and
f) first person exclusive. The form glossed as LK is a special marker in its own right. It
appears if and only if the possessed noun starts with a vowel and the possessor immediately
precedes it; its realizations vary from ablaut (like the one described above) to j- before
other vowels. In literature this prefix has been called “neutral y-formative” (Payne & Payne,
1999), “relator” (Gildea, 1998) and “relational prefix” (Rodrigues, 1994, Meira et al., 2012),
but I follow Meira & Gildea (2009) in calling it a linker prefix. These prefixes are cognates
to the absolutive prefixes found on verbs, as can be seen in example (4).
Page 84
a. k- ənəə -rɨ b. k- əŋ -ru
1.INCL eat NONSP 1.INCL eye POSSD
“[they] bite us” “our eye(s)”
Now let’s move onto the usage of these prefixes. Morphosyntactically, there is a split
between SAP (i.e. first and second person) and third person possession.3 While third person
possessive prefixes appear in complementary distribution with the respective free possessor,
SAP prefixes and free possessors may optionally co-occur. This can be summarized in table
2:
As we can see, in third person possessive constructions, the combination POSSESSOR prefix-
POSSESSED is ungrammatical. This rule does not include the linker prefix j-, which always
occurs in the environment mentioned above. Since it does not possess any semantic content
and is purely morphophonological, it is exempt from this rule. These two patterns are not
the only ones that can be observed in other Cariban languages. According to Gildea (1998),
the first pattern was the original one, having been preserved in Apalaí, Karihona, Katxúyana,
Makushi and Pemón etc. The second pattern, which we find in SAP possessive constructions
in Pigáxio, can also be found in Hixkaryana, Deʼkwana and Yukpa etc. In addition to these
two types, there is another third innovation that is not present in Pigáxio, but in other
Cariban languages: in some languages (viz. Akuriyo, Tiriyo), the personal prefix became
obligatory, and the construction POSSESSOR POSSESSED therefore became ungrammatical.
I will now present some proper examples for these patterns. First, let’s take a look at
Pigáxio, and afterwards I’ll give some examples from related languages. Example (5) show-
cases the complementary distribution between prefix and free possessor in third person pos-
sessive constructions, as well as the functioning of the linker prefix j-. In (5a), the possessee
simply follows the possessor without any morphology. Since tʃiliigə does not begin with a
vowel, the linker prefix is not needed. In (5b), the personal possessive prefix i- is employed,
and the possessed case marker -rɨ appears. In (5c), an ungrammatical sentence is presented.
The prefix cannot co-occur with a free NP possessor.
a. João tʃiliigə
John star
“John’s star”
3
The latter also includes the newly borrowed first person exclusive marker. More research has to be
conducted on the nature of this prefix.
Page 85
Pigáxio
b. i- ʒiilgəə -rɨ
3 star POSSD
“his star”
c. *João i- ʒiilgəə -rɨ
John 3 star POSSD
In example (6) we can observe the functioning of the linker prefix j-. In (6a), the possessee
a: begins with a vowel, and thus the linker prefix is obligatory; leaving it out would result
in an ungrammatical sentence (cf. (6b)).
Note that a: and arɨ both are forms of the same noun. They are both derived from Proto-
Carib *arɨ, but whereas the latter is in its morphophonologically independent form, the
former has undergone syllable reduction preceding a CV suffix. In this case, this suffix is -rɨ
POSSD.
Before I continue with SAP possession, let’s take a look at how other Cariban languages
handle third person possession.4 In Hixkaryana–which you might have heard of, as it is
claimed to be the first language to be described as having OVS word order–third-person
possessive prefixes alternate with free (pro)noun possessors. When a free possessor pre-
cedes a vowel-initial possessee, the prefix y- occurs between the possessor and the possessee
(Derbyshire, 1985). Some examples of the Hixkaryana possession construction are given in
(7).
Page 86
(8) Akuriyo 3rd person possession
Now that we’ve taken a look at two other Cariban languages, let’s go back to Pigáxio and
consider SAP possession. In (10) we can observe the optional co-occurrence of free pronoun
and possessive prefix. Using a free pronoun instead of the personal prefix is often done to
contrast between various possessors, e.g. in a conversation such as the following: A: “Did
he steal Kɨʒiilgəərɨ’s manioc?”, B: “No, he stole my manioc”.
a. kɨ:wə ẽ: -ru
1.INCL LK:eye POSSD
“our eyes (emph.)”
b. k- əŋ -ru
1.INCL eye POSSD
“our eyes”
c. kɨ:wə k- əŋ -ru
1.INCL 1.INCL eye POSSD
“our eyes (emph.)”
Let’s take a last look at how a related language handles SAP possession. In (10) from Apalaí,
the SAP free pronoun replaces the possessive prefix; there is no optional co-occurrence.
This concludes my presentation of Pigáxio possessive prefixes. I have considered the forms
of these prefixes, the syntactic pattern in which they appear, and have given examples of
the functioning of possessive constructions in Pigáxio, as well as related Cariban languages.
Now that we have discussed the basics of possession, I shall talk about a recent change
regarding the linker prefix j-.
Kuikúro influence
In recent years, the influence of Kuikúro on the Pigáxio language has increased immensely.
Since their arrival at the Upper Xingu in the late 1800s, the Pigáxio have lived in various
places, and it was only recently in the 20th century that due to unknown reasons, they moved
to live among other tribes. One of these tribes was the Kuikúro, which nowadays hold the
remainder of Pigáxio people in their village. Because of this vicinity, not only lexical items
but also grammatical constructions have been borrowed from the Kuikúro language. An
example of such a grammatical influence is given in the j- LK construction. As I described
above, this marker appears when the possessed noun starts with a vowel and is immediately
Page 87
Pigáxio
preceded by its possessor. Among the newer generations however, the usage of this marker
has become deprecated due to the influence of Kuikúro, which does not employ such a
linker prefix. Let us compare (11) from Kuikúro with (12 from Pigáxio. In (11) we can
observe the lack of the linker prefix. This is an idiosyncracy among Cariban languages,
as most other related languages do employ the linker prefix. (12a) showcases the Pigáxio
construction involving j-, which is considered outdated and archaic by younger members
of the community. (12b) presents the same meaning as (12a), but using the innovative
construction. This phrase was uttered in the context of a conversation between mother and
daughter, in which the daughter corrected her mother, uttering (12b) and commenting that
wording it the way her mother did was annoying and old-fashioned.
a. Kanatú limo
children
“Kanatu’s children”
b. Aharâtâ ótomo
people
“Aharâtâ’s people” (Franchetto, 1986, p.160-61)
a. nõrõ ewɨɨʒ -ɨ
earth LK:daughter POSSD?
“the earth’s daughter”
b. nõrõ əwɨʃ
earth daughter
“the earth’s daughter”
This concludes the discussion of possessive constructions in Pigáxio. I will now talk about
a few minor topics. First off, number!
Number
While plurality is not a grammatical category in most Cariban languages, and is not obli-
gatorily marked in the languages that ostensibly do mark the plural, the common distinction
is between all (collective) and fewer than all (noncollective). Thus an unmarked noun may
be singular or plural, but is definitely not all of a perceived group, whereas a noun marked
for number will certainly be plural, and is perceived to constitute the entirety of a group. In
Pigáxio–as in most other Cariban languages–only animate nouns take the collective number
marker. This plural marker is -gowo in Pigáxio, and its cognates vary from -koŋ̃ in Kariʼnja
to -kom/-ŋmo in Ikpéng. Some examples for the basic usage of the collective marker can
be found in (13) for Pigáxio and in (14) for Katxúyana.
a. pərɨʃ
woman
“woman (NCOL)”
Page 88
b. pərɨɨʃ -gwoo
woman COL
“(all of the) women (COL)”
c. *təh -goowo
stone COL
Now that we’ve considered the basics of number marking, let’s take a look at the interaction
between number and possession. When combined with possessive constructions, the number
suffix -gowo indicates the number of the possesee, as can be seen in (14) for Katxúyana and
in (15) for Pigáxio. Note that when the number suffix attaches to the possessee, the possessed
marker does not occur.
To mark the number of the possessor, the collective number particle is employed. This
particle–komo in Pigáxio–follows the possessed noun and is cognate to its bound variant.
Example (16) showcases its usage in Pigáxio, while (17) does so for Katxúyana.
a. k- əgaarwu komo
1.INCL snake.POSSD COL
“the snake of all of us (the one used for our village’s ritual)”
b. k- əgaaw -gwoo komo
1.INCL snake COL COL
“the snakes of all of us”
Page 89
Pigáxio
Postpositions
While European languages almost exclusively use prepositions, Cariban languages feature
postpositions. In this short section I will consider the morphosyntax of postpositional phrases
on the basis of the ergative postposition -həgə. This postposition is related to Kuikúro
and Kalapalo -heke/-feke, and is not cognate to the northern Cariban ergative markers -ya
(Tiriyo), a (Apalai) or wya (Hixkaryana). Postpositions in Pigáxio may be attached to any
noun, and can also take the personal prefixes depicted in table 07. Some examples for the
usage of postpositions in Pigáxio are given in (18) and (19) below.
As can be seen above, the allomorphs of -həgə vary. Some possible forms are -hgəə and -
həəgə, but also -:gə(ə) and the irregular -bəgə. In Kalapálo, the ergative postposition works
similarly. In (20), a free NP is marked by -feke, whereas in (21), a personal prefix is used.
An example from Kuikúro is given in (22).
To mark a personal postpositional phrase for number, in Pigáxio the collective marker -ŋ
is used. This corresponds to Kuikúro -ne. The usage of this marker (called ‘collective O of
postposition’ by Gildea 1998) is exemplified in (23) from Pigáxio and (24) from Kuikúro.
Page 90
(24) Kuikúro collective postpositions
[...] e- heké -ni [...]
2 ERG PL
“You [will bring the water that you will take]” (Franchetto, 1990, p.413)
This concludes the discussion of postpositional phrases in this article. Now onto the last
section, in which I will briefly consider nominal tense in Pigáxio and related languages.
Nominal tense
Several Cariban languages feature nominal tense as one of their morphosyntactic charac-
teristics, and Pigáxio is no exception. While traditional linguistics teaches us that tense is a
property of verbs, such as cases are of nouns, in a number of the world’s languages, nouns
can also be specified for tense. To illustrate this, let’s take a look at a basic example from
Makushi, a North Cariban language.
a. u- ye
1.SG tooth
“my tooth”
b. u- ye -rî’pi
1.SG tooth NOM.PST
“my former tooth” (Aikhenvald, 2012, p.162)
Here, the nominal past suffix -rî’pi indicates that the possessee is no longer property of the
possessor. Even though Cariban languages only feature past possession, the range of possible
nominal TAM is endless. Not only can nominal future be marked (cf. (26) from Guaraní),
but some languages like Iatê even allow nouns to be marked for irrealis (cf. (27)).
a. seti ‘house’
b. se’ti-sê ‘ex-house, former house’
c. se’t-këá ‘possible house; what could be a house’
(Lapenda, 1968, p.78-9, as cited in Aikhenvald, 2012)
Now that we’ve clarified what nominal tense is, let’s take a look at Pigáxio. Similarly to
Makushi, Pigáxio also has a nominal past suffix that can be used in possessive construction.
This suffix is highly irregular morphophonologically, however a sufficient approximation
would be -Cu:ru. Some examples for the basic usage of this marker are given in (28).
Page 91
Pigáxio
a. t- əŋ -gu:ru
3.REFL eye NOM.PST
“his own former eye”
b. u- hɨ ́r -dú:ru
1 arrow NOM.PST
“my former arrow”
Having considered that, I need to mention something else related to nominal tense in Pigáxio.
Recently, a new innovation has been observed among younger speakers, which the older
generations hesitatingly accepted. The nominal past tense suffix began to appear without
any possessive prefix, as showcased in (29). This development is parallel to a phenomenon
that was observed in the 1940s by a linguist in another village,6 in which the possessed case
marker -rɨ would appear without any possessive prefixes, denoting the definiteness of the
marked noun.
Coda
You’ve now reached the end of this article, namely, its coda. In the preceding nine pages I
have given a brief overview of the different aspects of nominal morphosyntax in Pigáxio, and
I hope you enjoyed it. Hence I primarily want to thank you, the reader, for taking the time
to read this article. I hope I’ve given you some ideas by giving insights into the morphosyn-
tax of Cariban languages, and I do hope you enjoyed it. I’d like to thank Lysimachiakis for
proofreading the preliminary version of this article. Furthermore I’d like to thank mareck
and miacomet for proofreading the original “Possession in Pigáxio” reddit post, which the
first section of this article is heavily based on. I’d also like to thank the Segments organi-
zation team for providing a platform for conlangers to share their work. Thank you all! If
you have any questions regarding this article’s topic, you can reach out to me on Discord
at tryddle#9377 or on reddit, where my username is u/tryddle. And even just feedback is
also greatly appreciated!
Sources7
• Aikhenvald, A. Y. (2012). The Languages of the Amazon. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
• Basso, E. B. (2019). A Grammar of Kalapalo, A Southern Carib Language. MS.
• Derbyshire, D. C. (1985). Hixkaryana and Linguistic Typology. Arlington: Summer
Institute of Linguistics and the University of Texas at Arlington
6
Said village does not house any Pigáxio speakers anymore. They must either have been assimilated or
moved out at some point in the 60s.
7
I have once again included primary sources, in case you want to look them up yourself.
Page 92
• dos Santos, G. M. F. (2007). Morfologia Kuikuro: Gerando nomes e verbos. (Doctoral
dissertation, Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro).
• Franchetto, B. (1986). Falar Kuikúru: Estudo Etnolinguistico de um grupo Karíbe do
Alto Xingu. Volume III: Fonologia e Textos. (Doctoral dissertation, Museu Nacional
da Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro).
• Franchetto, B. (1990). Ergativity and Nominativity in Kuikúro and Other Carib Lan-
guages. Amazonian Linguistics: Studies in Lowland South American Languages. 407-27.
• Gildea, S. (1998). On reconstructing grammar: Comparative Cariban morphosyntax. Ox-
ford: Oxford University Press.
• Gildea, S. (2012). Linguistic studies in the Cariban family. In Campbell, Lyle and Gron-
dona, Verónica (eds.), 441 494. Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter
• Gregores, E. & Suarez, J. (1967). A description of colloquial Guarani. The Hague: Mou-
ton.
• Koehn, E. & Koehn, S. S. (1994). Apalai. Handbook of Amazonian Languages, 1, 33-127.
• Lapenda, G. (1968). Estrutura da língua Iatê. Recife: Imprensa Universitária da univer-
sidade Federal do Pernambuco.
• Meira, S. & Gildea, S. (2009). Property concepts in the Cariban family: adjectives, adverbs,
and/or nouns. In Wetzels, W. Leo (ed.), 95 133. Utrecht: LOT.
• Meira, S., Gildea, S. & Hoff, B. J. (2010). On the Origin of Ablaut in the Cariban
Family. International Journal of American Linguistics 76. 477 515.
• Payne, T. E. & Payne, D. L. (1999). Panare: A Cariban language of central Venezuela.
Ms., La Trobe University.
• Rodrigues, A. D. (1994). Grammatical affinity among Tupi, Karib, and Macro-Je. Ms.,
Universidade de Brasília.
Page 93
08 Akiatu's definite article
by Akam Chinjir
My conlang Akiatu has a definite article, =ki, let me tell you about it.
Simple cases
Here’s a simple case, with just enough context to talk about how it works:
This contains two noun phrases with ki: ki kwamuri ‘the hunter’ and ki isunai ‘the healer.’1
ki marks the noun phrases as definite, which means that it should be possible to identify
who or what they are referring to.
Or at least that should be possible in a real situation in which someone uttered (1) seriously.
In an article like this, of course it’s just an example sentence and isn’t actually referring to
anyone.
Luckily it’s not too hard to pretend. Even considering the sentence abstractly, there’s an
obvious answer to the question who ki kwamuri ‘the hunter’ refers to: it refers to the same
hunter that’s mentioned in the first clause. And even if we were hearing this sentence uttered
in a concrete context, it’s quite likely that’s all we’d be able to figure out. Still, it’s enough:
1
Both noun phrases could actually be plural: number is not marked on Akiatu nouns. (I’ll often ignore this
issue.)
Page 95
Akiatu
if you figure out that ki kwamuri refers to the same hunter that was mentioned in the first
clause, then you count as identifying its referent, and the fact that it’s possible for you to do
so is what warrants the use of a definite article here.
So far, that sounds just like English. But there’s a detail here that matters for Akiatu ki
but not for English the: we’re able to identify the referents of ki kwamuri and ki isunai
specifically on the basis of the preceding linguistic context. That’s the normal pattern. With
the possible exception of some particular constructions (which I discuss below), you only
use ki when it’s the linguistic context that makes the noun phrase’s referent identifiable. In
its core uses, ki is what’s been called an anaphoric definite pronoun, always referring back
to what has already been said.
Consider a somewhat different context. The hunter and the healer have just arrived, and I
nod towards the hunter while saying, “The hunter has brought boar.” Or maybe I don’t even
nod, trusting the context to make it clear who I’m talking about. In English, the definite
article is perfectly natural in cases like this, but in Akiatu you would not use ki. That’s
because, even though you can figure out who I’m talking about, you won’t rely on the
linguistic context to do so; my use of the English definite article here is not anaphoric.
Naturally, Akiatu provides other ways to signal that it should be possible to identify the
referent of a noun phrase. An important one is that the subject of a finite clause must
always be interpreted as definite, which means you could just say this (with or without an
accompanying gesture):
Or you could just use a demonstrative. But in simple cases, you only use ki if it’s the linguistic
context that makes it possible to identify the noun phrase’s referent.2
The fact that ki is an anaphoric definite article means that there are several contexts in
which other languages require or allow a definite article, but where you won’t find ki. I’ve
already mentioned referents that are contextually unique or are identified with a gesture.
There are also some nouns—Akiatu examples include ikwakatai ‘sun’ and ikjamí ‘river’—
which normally have the same referent (ikjamí ‘river’ normally refers to the Akiatu River
in particular); these can take ki only in contexts in which their uniqueness is somehow in
question. About the same is true of proper names, though in this case English works about
the same as Akiatu, not normally requiring a definite article. Finally, when a noun is used
generically, as in (3), you won’t normally find ki:
I don’t know if you’d consider ijaisa ‘bat’ definite in this sentence, but there are languages
that would require a definite article here, and English allows “the” in at least some generics.
2
A complication: demonstrative constructions actually include ki: ‘that hunter’ would be ki kwamuri watí;
the watí is a deictic element. I’ll come back to this.
Page 96
ki is also not generally used with continuing discourse topics, even when those are rep-
resented by lexical nouns.3 You’ll use ki more often when picking out one of a number of
available topics, like in (1), or when returning to a previous topic.
Indirection
One feature of (1) makes it especially straightforward: the definite noun phrases in the
second and third clauses refer back to the very same people who were introduced in the first
clause. The following example is less direct:
Here we have ki papí papí ‘the dancing,’ and (supposedly) we can figure out what dancing
it’s referring to, but no dancing has been mentioned in the supplied context.
There’s nothing especially puzzling here. Even though dancing hasn’t been mentioned, a
feast has, and Akiatu feasts typically feature dancing. Clearly, the dancing in question is the
dancing that took place at that feast. The use of ki here is still anaphoric, though indirectly
so, since it’s the prior reference to the feast that lets us identify the referent of ki papí papí
‘the dancing.’
Here, it can’t be obvious from the non-linguistic context which canoes the addressee is
supposed to wait by—it can’t be the case that there’s just one locally salient place with
canoes, and the speaker can’t be indicating which canoes to wait by simply with a gesture.
The use of ki signals that it’s the linguistic context that specifices which canoes the speaker
is talking about. Of course it’s the reference to the river that’s important: the addressee is
to wait by the canoes that are down by the river. (Presumably it’s clear from context what
spot by the river the speaker intends.)
There’s a nuance here that’s worth mentioning. There’s a clear sense in which the ad-
dressee doesn’t have to know what canoes the speaker is referring to at the moment when
the sentence is uttered. What’s important is that upon arrival at the river, it be possible to
identify those canoes.4
3
Akiatu has no pronoun for third-person inanimates, and lexical nouns are often preferred to the animate
pronouns. Consequently, Akiatu speakers quite often use lexical nouns in contexts where English speakers
would prefer a pronoun (though many topical arguments can simply be dropped, a countervailing tendency).
4
Or that canoe: recall that Akiatu nouns are not marked for number.
Page 97
Akiatu
In the examples so far, the referents of the noun phrases in ki has been made identifiable
by something in the immediately preceding clause. This isn’t necessary. ki can reach further
back into the conversation; for example, the references to the hunter and the healer in (1)
could be separated by a few comments about the hunter and the boar.
The relevant bit of context can also be even closer than a preceding clause. Akiatu allows
what I’m going to call adjoined topics. These are phrases that occur at the start of a clause,
followed by the topic particle wai and then a pause (or at least pitch reset). They can, but
need not, correspond to a pronoun or dropped argument in the subsequent clause; they can
also provide the necessary context for a use of ki. Here’s a variant of (4) to show what that
looks like:
(6) sarai kuti piwawi wai, ki papí papí hajji hajji tikwa
yester day feast TOP DEF dance RDP lively RDP face
“(As for) the feast yesterday, the dancing was very lively”
That concludes my discussion of what I take to be the core uses of ki. The key idea is that
in these core uses ki is anaphoric: it signals that the noun phrase’s referent is identifiable
specifically on the basis of the recent linguistic context.
Naturally there are complications, which is why this article doesn’t end here. These com-
plications arise because there are several constructions in which ki does not quite behave
like the anaphoric definite article that I’ve been describing. Let’s take a look.
Possession
Alienable possession is normally expressed using ki:
These look like simple definite noun phrases—ki apatu ‘the spear,’ ki pau ‘the pau shirt,’ and
ki isau ‘the medicine’—to which possessors have been attached at the left. But these apparent
definite noun phrases work somewhat differently from the ones I’ve been discussing so far.
For one thing, they need not be strictly definite. For example, you could use itamu ki
apatu ‘Itamu’s spear’ to refer to a specific spear even if in context it is not Itamu’s only
spear. For example, this is fine, regardless of how many spears Itamu owns:
By contrast, suwi ki apatu ‘this is the spear’ would have to refer to a specific spear (or group
of spears), and the linguistic context would have to make it clear what spear (or spears) that
is.
Page 98
This, I think, is a common pattern, cross-linguistically: possessive constructions that are
not strictly definite but are still in some ways treated as if they were. In English the best ex-
amples involve what in Akiatu would be inalienable possession. We might mention Itamu’s
sisters, for example, without necessarily referring to all of them, or say that Itamu hurt her
hand, even though, before the utterance, neither of her two hands was more salient than
the other. Still, we tend to think of these expressions as somehow definite. (I’ll be talking
about inalienable possession in Akiatu shortly.)
One way in which Akiatu treats possessive phrases as definite, even when strictly they are
not, is that it allows them to occupy the subject position in a finite clause. It’s a general rule
that Akiatu subjects be definite, but when the subject is a possessive phrase, the rule applies
to the possessor and not to the noun phrase as a whole. So something like this is fine even
if no particular spear or spears of Itamu’s is already uniquely salient:
By contrast, a simple apatu kariku=kahu ‘the spear broke’ would purport to refer to a defi-
nite, identifiable spear (or spears).
This may simply be a different use of ki from the one I discussed in the preceding two
sections. However, it’s still possible to think of it as anaphoric if we think of the possessor
not as part of the noun phrase rendered (somewhat) definite by ki but rather as that part of
the linguistic context that helps us sort out the phrase’s referent.
Here the possessor surfaces outside of the noun phrase whose referent is at issue, so it’s
easier to think of it as part of the reference-fixing linguistic context.
Akiatu lets many topical arguments be dropped, and this includes possessors. ki apatu
‘the spear’ could then be a possessive noun phrase with a null pronoun taking the place of
the possessor. The topic would let us identify the referent of that null pronoun, but not
otherwise enter into the interpretation of ki apatu. We’d interpret that noun phrase more
or less exactly as if it were actually itamu ki apatu ‘Itamu’s spear.’ A key consequence is that
the noun phrase need not be fully definite. Just like (9), with an overt possessor, use (10)
need not be about all of Itamu’s contextually salient spears. (Compare the English: “Itamu’s
sister arrived.” Her only sister? Not necessarily.)
The alternative is that this is just the sort of indirect definite reference I discussed in the
last section. Understood this way, itamu is the bit of linguistic context that makes it possible
to identify the referent of ki apatu: the spear in question is the one that in the context is
saliently associated with Itamu. In this case, the association would derive from possession,
Page 99
Akiatu
the spear being associated with Itamu simply because Itamu possesses it, but the noun phrase
would not contain a covert reference to a possessor and thus would not specifically encode
possession. It follows that on this interpretation, the noun phrase must be fully definite: the
sentence must be about all the spears that are saliently related to Itamu.
One of the difficulties in deciding between these two interpretations is that Akiatu, like
many languages, allows a wide range of relations to be encoded as possession. In principle,
even an example like (6) (about the dancing that took place at a feast) could be interpreted
in terms of abstract possession (the feast’s dancing), even though I tried to choose an ex-
ample that would resist that sort of interpretation. Ultimately, if even an example like that
one could be interpreted as involving a covert possessor, unambiguous cases of indirect
anaphoric definite reference might be very rare indeed.
But they’re not rare, so something must be restricting the distribution of covert possessors.
One possibility, to which I’m currently inclined, is that a possessor can be dropped only in
the context of fairly concrete or immediate possession—like if Itamu were actually carrying
her spear. But I’m not yet ready to say in any detail how this will work.
The same issues arise with inalienable possession, even though it does not normally require
ki:
ki surfaces whenever the possessor is dropped: ki cucu ‘her children,’ ki mawasawi ‘their
hair,’ and ki amiwi ‘his hands.’
There’s one important class of cases in which a covert possessor is ruled out. This is when
the covert possessor would corefer with the sentence’s subject:
There cannot be a covert possessor here because of a general rule that to refer back to the
subject of the clause you must use a reflexive pronoun. Here that pronoun would normally
be mwi:
There’s a clear semantic difference between (12) and (13). In (12), ki amiwi ‘the hands’
must refer to all of the hands saliently associated with Itamu, which is probably both of
them. But in (13) mwi amiwi ‘her hands’ need not be fully definite, and the sentence could
Page 100
be appropriately used even if Itamu washed only one of them. (The significance of this
difference might be easier to appreciate with a verb meaning ‘hurt.’)
One more thing. I’ve said that the referent of a noun phrase in ki can’t be identifiable be-
cause it is contextually unique or because the speaker gestured towards it. These restrictions
do not apply to covert possessors, which I suppose have the semantics of pronouns. Suppose
we’re sitting out, and Itamu walks by carrying a broken spear. Then one of us might say
this:
This must involve Itamu as a covert possessor, because in the context described ki apatu
‘the spear’ has an identifiable referent in virtue of the spear’s association with Itamu, and
Itamu hasn’t been mentioned. Unlike with the spear, though, the sentence can refer to Itamu
simply because she’s the only other person present, or because the statement is accompanied
by (for example) a nod in her direction.
Partitives
Partitive constructions pick out some members of a group or some part of a whole. Here’s
how it looks with a plain number:
A great deal falls into place if we think of janakí ki pai ‘three of the people’ as a possessive
construction, with pai ‘three’ as its head noun.
First, the requirement that a sentence’s subject be definite applies not to the noun phrase
as a whole but to the apparent possessor, here janakí ‘person.’ That’s how an intrinsically
indefinite expression like janakí ki pai ‘three of the people’ can be subject, and also why the
janakí ‘person’ must be interpreted as definite.
Second, it’s possible to indicate the containing group with just a gesture. For example,
noticing that some goomfruit is missing, you might nod towards a group of dubious charac-
ters and say this:
Third, the containing group or whole is not mentioned explicitly in the noun phrase, we
must suppose that it is represented by a covert pronoun of some sort. That’s the easiest way
to explain how, for example, ki itu ‘one of them’ can be subject in (16): the requirement
that the subject be definite is satisfied by the covert pronoun. But also, you have to use the
reflexive pronoun mwi when the containing group or whole is also the subject of the clause:
Page 101
Akiatu
On the intended interpretation, this says that there was a group of enemies that sent a
member of that very group over to us; I’m not sure how to say this nicely in English, but
there it is in Akiatu. The important point is that you need reflexive mwi here; with ki itu,
the person sent would have to come from some other salient group. This restriction is easiest
to understand if ki itu must contain a covert reference to the containing group, which (by
a general rule of Akiatu grammar) could not corefer with the subject of the sentence.
Despite these analogies, there’s one powerful reason for thinking that these are not really
possessive constructions. Outside of the partitive construction, Akiatu numbers can only be
used adnominally or when actually counting. Thus, you can’t think of pai ‘three’ in janakí
ki pai ‘three of the people’ as a noun that’s getting used in a possessive construction, because
it becomes nounlike only in the context of the construction. It doesn’t even work with
possession more narrowly construed; for example, *itamu ki pai can’t be used to refer to
three things owned by Itamu.
Numbers aren’t the only quantifiers that work this way. Some of the others are actually
made out of numbers:
Another example is hamu ‘some, a portion.’ Unlike numbers, this frequently occurs with
what you might think of as mass nouns:
There’s also a question word sari ‘how many’ that I’m pretty sure can also occur in this
construction. Maybe that would look like this:
Honestly, though, I’m currently very confused about pied piping, and I’m not sure what
should happen here.
Some of Akiatu’s ‘true’ (postnominal) adjectives can also be used similarly, with partitive
semantics. Here’s an example:
Page 102
(21) kúmu ki mwimu jiti i hau, sama
goomfruit DET new bring DAT 1SG 2SG
“Bring me the fresh goomfruit”
This picks out the fresh ones among some salient group of goomfruit; the relation between
kúmu ‘goomfruit’ and mwimu ‘fresh’ can only be understood in partitive terms, and mwimu
‘fresh’ cannot otherwise head a noun phrase.
The construction with adjectives differs from the one with quantifiers in one key respect:
despite being partitive, kúmu ki mwimu ‘the fresh goomfruit’ is most naturally taken to be
definite.
There’s one special case, the postnominal adjective ahiwa ‘one.’ Normally, you’d use it
rather than the counting number itu ‘one’ to pick out one of something. For example, you’d
say kúmu ahiwa to refer to one goomfruit, rather than itu kúmu (which would instead
refer to some specific goomfruit, possibly more than one). But in partitive constructions,
you use itu for ‘one (of),’ and ahiwa means ‘whole’ or ‘all’:
This will refer to as many goomfruit as are contextually salient, not necessarily just to one
of them.
You might expect partitive semantics to be available with other (prenominal) modifiers.
However, most of these can also be used as regular nouns, and that complicates things. For
example, there’s a kind of ritual object called a tamwi kapau ‘wooden doll’; tamwi ‘wood,
tree’ occurs adnominally in this expression. You might expect that kapau ki tamwi could be
used to refer to the wooden ones in some salient group of kapau ‘dolls.’ But I think kapau
ki tamwi would more naturally be taken to refer to the wooden parts of some doll or dolls,
in large part because tamwi is basically a noun, and I’m not sure that the expected partitive
interpretation is even available here.
Identifying modifiers
There are some cases in which a noun phrase takes ki even though its referent is identifiable
in virtue of a modifier that occurs within the noun phrase itself. Modifiers like this, like
possessors, behave as if they were part of the linguistic context, not part of the noun phrase
itself, at least in relation to ki.
This happens most consistently with relative clauses. When a noun phrase contains a
relative clause, and the relative clause makes the referent of the noun phrase identifiable,
then you’ll normally get ki. Here’s an example:
Page 103
Akiatu
(The second ki here is necessary because Akiatu nominalises adnominal relative clauses and
encodes their subjects as possessors.)
I don’t want to go too far into the syntax and semantics of relative clauses here. Suffice it to
say that if they adjoin to a constituent that already includes determiners like ki, this makes it
harder to understand the semantics of certain quantifiers, like “every” in English, but makes
it easier to understand why it’s possible in many languages to displace relative clauses to
a clause-final position. As it happens, the latter issue is more pressing in Akiatu, where
displaced relative clauses are common, but there’s no quantifier relevantly like “every.”5
You might find the English translation somewhat awkward, but the Akiatu is perfectly fine.
Intonationally, the displaced relative clause is fully integrated into the sentence: there’s
no pause or pitch reset, and it likely includes the nuclear pitch accent; certainly you don’t
get the flat intonation characteristic of afterthoughts. (In these respects, intonation works
similarly in Akiatu and English.) I take this to mean that the grammar here is perfectly
standard.
You can get a similar pattern with adjectives, though this involves overt displacement of
the adjective to the front of the noun phrase, before ki. For example, you might get mwimu
ki kúmu ‘the fresh goomfruit,’ and this is appropriate even if it’s the adjective mwimu ‘fresh’
that makes the referent identifiable: again, the modifier seems to be getting treated as part of
the linguistic context, not exactly part of the noun phrase. Pragmatically, a fronted modifier
is focused, likely for contrast.
At least some prenominal modifiers can also be fronted. Maybe the most common such
modifier is auki ‘other, remainder’:
(A partitive construction—kúmu ki auki—would also work here, and would be more appro-
priate in a context that didn’t directly contrast the rest of the goomfruit with, presumably,
the goomfruit that’s already been eaten.)
Demonstratives
I said earlier that if you’re specifying what a noun phrase refers to by gesturing to the
referent, you don’t use ki. This was only partially true: you certainly don’t have to use
5
If you’re interested in the issue with “every,” it works something like this. The sentence “every person
that you mentioned was there” doesn’t say that everyone was there, and you mentioned all of them, it says
that of the people you mentioned, all of them were there. Put a bit more technically, the relative clause here
constitutes part of the restriction of the quantifier. Given standard ways of analysing quantifier semantics, this
strongly implies that “person that you mentioned” is a constituent, to which “every” attaches.
Page 104
ki, but you might use a demonstrative construction, and demonstrative constructions do
include ki.
Akiatu adnominal demonstratives consist of two parts. There’s a deictic particle, which
normally occurs at the end of a noun phrase (though it can be followed by a heavy relative
clause), and there’s also ki. It can look like this:
There are three deictic particles that can be used this way. Proximal =su and distal watí
are common. So far addressee-proximal =ku is not, though that might be because I still
haven’t composed many conversations in Akiatu.
You might wonder if this is an instance of the sort of structure I talked about in the previous
section, with the deictic particles getting treated as elements the linguistic context that make
the noun phrase’s referent identifiable. I don’t think that’s actually correct, though to be
honest none of the arguments I’ve come up with so far are very convincing. For instance, it
may be relevant that these deictic particles are not (and cannot be used as) nouns, and cannot
be focused by being moved to the front of the noun phrase. That makes them different from
other adnominal modifiers, but not obviously in a way that’s relevant here.
Summation
I want to take stock by considering the various ways in which the referent of ki cucu might
be made identifiable in the following sentence.
Let’s first rule out one thought: you couldn’t utter this out of the blue, as a comment about
all the children present in the speech context. This reflects the fundamental difference
between ki and non-anaphoric definite articles like English “the.”
You also couldn’t make the referent identifiable by uttering (27) while nodding towards
the children in question; a gesture cannot by itself warrant the use of ki.
In both of those cases, you could fix things by saying instead ki cucu watí ‘those children.’
However, if we’ve already been discussing some children, you could use (27) to refer to
just the children we’ve been talking about.
Or maybe we haven’t mentioned any children but have been talking about Itamu, and
know that she has a child. Then the prior references to Itamu would allow us to suppose
that ki cucu includes a covert reference to her, and refers to her child (or children).
Or maybe we haven’t even mentioned Itamu, but she’s present in the speech context. Then
it would be possible to utter (27) while nodding towards Itamu and be understood to be
Page 105
Akiatu
referring to Itamu’s child. On this interpretation, Itamu is represented in the sentence only
by a null pronoun, and there’s nothing wrong with using a gesture to identify the referent
of a pronoun.
Another possibility is that we’ve been talking about a group of people including both
children and adults. ki cucu could then be interpreted as an implicit partitive construction,
something like ‘the children among them.’
Or maybe we haven’t been talking about those people, but (27) is uttered along with a
nod towards them; that could also work.
Finally, we could expand (27) to include an identifying relative clause, and in that case
we’d continue to use ki:
Envoi
So that’s more or less how things go with Akiatu’s definite article ki.
ki isn’t the result of a great deal of research into real-world definite articles. I know enough
to know that definite articles can be anaphoric in something like the way I’ve described, and
over the years I’ve done a great deal of reading about noun phrase syntax. But with ki my
approach has mostly been to draw together some unrelated ideas and inspirations (including
from classical Chinese “ ” and Turkish “bir,” neither of which is a definite article), and just
let those ideas play both with each other and with other bits of Akiatu grammar. I hope the
result is naturalistic and coherent, but couldn’t tell you to what extent it resembles anything
you find in actual human languages.
Page 106
09 Africana
by Primalpikachu
Language has a tendency to innovate as it changes, recycling or losing old structures and
coining new ones to replace the old. However, like the relative who “grew up in a different
time, most language families have one or two languages which are much less different from
the mother tongue. As you can probably tell from the title, Africana1 is a Romance language
descended from the Vulgar Latin spoken in northern Africa. However, unlike most Romance
languages, Africana is much more archaic in terms of grammar and inflection. This is most
noticeable in its nouns which sport a robust case system and gender system. In this article
I will explain the intricacies of the Africana case system by revealing its history as well as
showing how interactions between prepositions and nouns change case. In tandem, I will
reveal the differences and irregularities between real Romance genders and Africana’s. I will
also compare the pure neuter nouns and neuter-like nouns within the language. I hope you
will find this article enjoyable and possibly inspirational for anyone who may be thinking
about making a similar language.
Page 107
Africana
on to create the modern case system seen today. (see fig. 3) The following phrases will help
illustrate the evolution of Africana’s cases.
Page 108
c. Il carne est pro li cani Africana
il carn -e est pro l -i can -i
the meat -NOM is for the -DAT dog -DAT
“The meat is for the dog.”
Page 109
Africana
Classical Latin
egg fox
Case Singular Plural Singular Plural
NOM ovvm ova vvlpes vvlpes
ACC ovvm ova vvlpem vvlpes
DAT ovo ovis vvlpi vvlpibvs
GEN ovi ovorvm vvlpis vvlpivm
ABL ovo ovis vvlpe vvlpibvs
VOC ovvm ova vvlpes vvlpes
African Vulgar Latin
egg fox
Case Singular Plural Singular Plural
NOM obu oba bolpe bolpe
ACC obu oba bolpe bolpe
GEN-DAT obi oboro bolpi bolpiu
Africana
egg wild canine
Case Singular Plural Singular Plural
NOM obo oba bolpe bolpe
ACC obo oba bolpe bolpe
GEN-DAT obi oboro bolpi bolpio
Table 1: Case Changes in Africana
Page 110
Fig. 4 Irr. N. Sg. Irr. N. Pl.
NOM -i/-e -e
ACC -e -e
GEN/DAT -i -io
Figure 4: Irregular Neutral Declensions
Page 111
Izlodian noun cases and
10 their uses
by rordan
Introduction
Izlodian, which I began developing in January 2019, is my primary conlang. It has gone
through several iterations to the point that the original draft of the language now serves as
the proto-language; Modern Izlodian is the current iteration and is the focus of this article.
In this article, I have provided a quick glance at the noun cases in the language and their
forms, as well as a table showing the verb forms. The verbs are not the focus of this paper,
but providing a brief overview of the verb paradigm will be helpful in understanding the
morphosyntactic split and subsequent noun marking in sentences. Next, I provide several
examples of how the core grammatical noun cases function in sentences. Basic IPA symbols
are used.
Nouns
Nouns are a word class that denote people, places, and things (inanimate or animate). By
default, nouns are definite, but can take an indefinite prefix. This prefix is becoming less
common in everyday spoken language, however. When it is used, it prefixes directly to the
noun stem.
The vast majority of common nouns end in -é or -ó (a remnant of the old vowel harmony
system); proper nouns, such as personal names and place names, can end in any vowel or
consonant. The plural suffix, -m, attaches directly to the noun stem. Case suffixes attach to
the plural marker when present, which can alter their form (see Table 1 below). Without
the plural suffix, cases attach directly to the final vowel of the noun stem.
There are 17 noun cases in Izlodian, though most of these can be thought of as post-
positions. Below is the list of cases and their syntactic role or meaning. 15 noun cases
are marked by suffixes, the other two by prefixes. Grammatical cases can have multiple
functions.
Page 113
Izlodian
Ergative -s
1. The subject of verbs when the agent lacks volition
2. The subject of verbs of feeling, emotion, sensation,
or experience
3. The subject of verbs in the Subjunctive I and
Subjunctive II forms
Translative mó /mo/-
1. Marks a change in state
2. Marks a temporary state
3. Marks the direct object of copula in the optative
form
Verb forms
Before diving into the grammatical cases, it is necessary to first provide a brief overview of
verb forms in Izlodian. In the language, there are two series: 1) perfective 2) imperfective.
Within these, there are several moods and tenses that, when combined, form particular verb
forms. Below are two tables that break down these verb series. Also marked are the default
noun markers for each mood.
Page 114
Mood Time
(Alignment) Past Present Future
Indicative Aorist Perfect Future
(Nom-Acc) “I walked” “I had walked” “I will walk”
“I just walked”
“I had walked to the...”
Subjunctive I Past Conditional Conditional Potential
(Erg-Nom) “I would have gone” “I would go, if...” “I could go”
Imperative Imperative Past1 Imperative Present Imperative Future
Nom-Acc “You walked “You, walk!” “You will walk!”
(Pres.-Fut.) (because you
Erg-Abs were told to)”
(Past)
Table 2: Perfective Series
Mood Time
(Alignment) Past Present Future
Indicative Imperfect Present Future
(Nom-Acc) “I was walking” “I am walking” ∅
“I was walking “I walk
(as a habit)” (as a habit)”
Subjunctive II Past Optative Optative Future Optative
(Erg-Nom “I was wanting to walk” “I want/desire to walk” “I hope to go walking”
Trans)
Inchoative Past Inchoative Inchoative Future Inchoative
(Nom-Acc) “I started walking” “I am starting walking” “I will start walking”
Table 3: Imperfective Series
Preverbs
One final thing to note for verbs to ease understanding of the main article is the use of
preverbs (glossed as PV in this article). There are many preverbs in Izlodian that slightly
change the meaning of the verb (e.g. k- attached to the perfect verb form implies a polite
command) or denote the direct and indirect objects. The use of preverbs in Izlodian is too
complicated and extensive to adequately cover in this article, so I will instead clarify the
specific preverbs used in the examples in the main body of this article.
1
The imperative past is used specifically to denote actions that the subject completed because of a command
or request and requires the Erg-Nom alignment.
Page 115
Izlodian
The nominative case can be paired with direct objects in the translative case. This con-
struction denotes a temporary state. For example:
Ergative
The ergative is the second core case to mark subjects in Izlodian sentences. Essentially,
whenever the subject experiences an action or sensation, commits an action involuntarily, or
feels an emotion, the subject is marked in the ergative case and the direct object is marked
with the nominative. This construction can occur with any verb in any form. Below are
some examples of this ergative construction and how the case’s use can change the meaning
of the original verb.
Page 116
(6) Dovìs úman
Dovì -s úman
Dovì -ERG happy.ADJ
“Dovì (is) happy, Dovì (is) feeling happy.2 ”
All verbs in the Subjunctive I and Subjunctive II forms have their subject marked with the
ergative. In Subjunctive II (optative) forms, the translative case marks the copula comple-
ment of mósú ‘to be.’ The ergative also marks the subject of verbs in the past imperative
form.
The translative case can also be used to mark adjectives or nouns to express changes in
state. For example:
2
Note: the copula is dropped in realis ergative constructions expressing emotional states in the present
Page 117
Izlodian
Dative
The primary role of the dative case is to mark the benefactor of an action or the indirect
object of an action. Nouns marked in the dative are generally located at the end of phrases.
For example:
The dative is additionally used to form the passive voice. The noun that would be the
patient in active voice constructions is promoted to the agent and marked with the dative.
The previous agent is demoted and marked with the instrumental. In these constructions,
the dative noun creates an inseparable unit to the verb; no other words can come between
the verb and the dative noun in the passive voice. In this construction, the instrumental
noun can be omitted. In more casual speech, the dative suffix is affixed directly to the verb
and the noun is entirely omitted.
(17) Bùthékla
bùth -é -k -la
cook -AOR -3SG -DAT
“It/something was cooked (by someone).”
Page 118
Accusative
Of the grammatical cases, the accusative has the least number of separate uses. In con-
structions in which the subject/agent is marked with the nominative case, the direct object is
marked in the accusative. In realis verb forms denoting past events (Aorist, Imperfect, Past
Inchoative), the marking the direct object with the accusative marks a resultive or successful
action.
Partitive
The partitive case indicates the action targeted a portion of the object, a portion of a group
of objects, or did not fully impact a target. For clarity, speakers will sometimes use a cardinal
number prior to the noun when referring to a specific number of objects from a group. The
result is not clearly indicated in the latter construction (see example (22) below). Some
examples:
Genitive
The genitive case has a singular function: mark possession. Possesses follow possessions
and form an inseparable unit.
Page 119
Izlodian
Instrumental
The instrumental case has two main functions: marks nouns used to complete an action and
works as a comitative. It additionally functions as the direct objects of passive constructions.
A final interesting note about the instrumental case is that it is the only case with allomorphs
that change based on the number of the noun. For singular nouns, the instrumental suffix
is -n, while for plural nouns, the suffix is -b.
Translative
The translative case marks goal states, temporary states, and, occasionally, direct objects
of verbs in the optative form.
Page 120
As shown in the nominative section above:
Finally, the optative form of the copula will have objects marked by the translative case.
Conclusion
Izlodian nouns have been, for most of the language’s existence, the simplest part of the
grammar. Nine of the noun cases, the locative post-positions, continue this trend and have
regular and predictable uses. The eight core grammatical cases, discussed in detail in this
article, have grown in complexity since the original proto-lang (Arosi Ardasj); this complex-
ity is mainly found in the shifting morphosyntactic alignment and subject marking and is a
direct byproduct of the increasingly complex verb system.
To summarize the complexity of the core grammatical arguments, three noun cases can
mark the subject of the verb depending upon the grammatical form (see Table 2 and Table 3)
of the verb, the type of verb (e.g. non-volitionality, feelings, emotions, etc.), and voice. The
most common case to mark the subject is the nominative, followed next by the ergative.
The dative case is the third most common subject marker and has become increasingly
used as such due to the emergence of the passive voice. The noun cases to mark direct
objects similarly varies depending upon the subject case, but the most common case is the
accusative/partitive, followed by the nominative, and then by the instrumental.
While the noun system can seem complicated and difficult to master, understanding the
contexts required for which cases is the most challenging part. Thankfully, Izlodian nouns
are extremely regular and decline in predictable patterns. When a learner understands when
to use the ergative rather than nominative and the difference between the accusative and
partitive, mastery of the Izlodian noun system is at hand.
Page 121
11 Pronouns in Laidzín
by Floof
Introduction
Hello and greetings to all! My name is Floof, and in this article I will be talking about
the way in which pronouns, especially personal pronouns, work in my conlang Laidzín.
Laidzín [lɛˈdzĩ] is an a posteriori constructed language, specifically being a Romance language
derived from Latin. It is what I consider to be my first real conlang, in that it is the only
one I have ever truly fleshed out. For those of you who know a Romance language or know
a good bit about them, Laidzín may seem a bit strange to you—and that is very much to
be expected. While I have tried to keep the language at least somewhat realistic, the fact
of the matter is that when I first started this project, my knowledge of Romance languages
and their linguistics was not nearly as great as it is today, and so I have come to consider it
also somewhat of a personal language, allowing its unique and divergent characteristics to
be feature of the language that make it what it is.
Laidzín, like its mother Latin, is a rather synthetic language with both complex verbal and
nominal systems. Its phonoaesthetic is somewhat like that of Gallo-Italic, though very differ-
ent in many cases; it is filled with nasal vowels, front-rounded vowels, palatal consonants,
and allomorphy of many kinds. In order to better understand its pronouns, I’m going to give
you an overview of its nominal system, looking at it both synchronically and diachronically.
Laidzín is an inflecting language, and its nominal system inflects for two numbers, seven
cases, and three genders. Latin had three genders as well—the masculine, the feminine,
and the neuter—but most Romance Languages lost the neuter gender, merging it into the
feminine and the masculine; although some, such as Romanian, keep it around to this day.
Cases were similarly lost in almost all the Romance languages, except for Romanian which
preserves three—the nominative-accusative, the genitive-dative, and the vocative, reduced
from the six Latin cases (nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, ablative, vocative). These
features make Laidzín a typologically unusual Romance language, but they are key features
of its nominal system that will be important when we take a look at its pronouns.
One last note before we get into the article itself—phonology. Laidzín has a rather large
phonological inventory, and thus it would not be convenient to include even a short descrip-
tion of its phonology and its orthography. To compensate for this fact, I will try and provide
Page 123
Laidzín
an IPA transcription of all example sentences and words that appear in the article.
First, we need to go over the cases. They are the nominative (NOM), genitive (GEN),
dative (DAT), accusative (ACC), locative (LOC), ablative (ABL), and instrumental/comitative
(INSTR). Each case generally has its prototypical uses, so I will not give an explanation here
as to what each case’s function is. One thing I will note, however, is that the 7th case is
usually simply referred to as the instrumental; however, its comitative meaning is much
more common in pronouns, so it’s likely that many of the examples given in this article will
have that function.
If we look at the history of Laidzín, one may be somewhat surprised to see that, despite
there being seven cases as compared to Latin’s six, only four of them are actually inherited
from Latin—the nominative, genitive, dative, and accusative. The other three—the ablative,
locative, and instrumental—are innovations unique to Laidzín. Due to this fact, one does
not often see much variation in these case endings, save for some differences in gender and
number. There are not unique endings for both numbers in all 5 declensions. Additionally,
pronouns have some case endings, both inherited and innovated, that are unique to the
pronominal class—that is, they are not found in other kinds of nominals.
In this article, I will be talking about the basic personal pronouns as well as possessive
pronouns. These two groups share many similarities, but also many differences. What these
exact differences and similarities are will be touched on in their respective sections.
Personal Pronouns
Personal pronouns are declined much like other nominals—they decline for number, gen-
der, and case. However, they also distinguish person (1st, 2nd, 3rd) as well politeness in the
2nd and 3rd persons (formal vs informal). Furthermore, there is a set of reflexive pronouns
that only distinguishes number and case, nothing more. In the following section, I will
discuss each set of personal pronouns, splitting them up by person, number, and formality
where relevant.
An important thing to touch upon is when and where personal pronouns are used, and are
not used. Laidzín is a pro-drop language, it has pretty richly inflected verbs that are almost
always clearly marked for person and number. However, just because Laidzín is pro-drop,
that does not mean the pronoun may be dropped in all cases. One case where pronouns
are necessary is when dealing with third person pronouns, and sometimes for second person
pronouns. This comes about as a result of ambiguity related to marking—2nd and 3rd person
pronouns mark formality, and 3rd person pronouns also mark gender, whereas verbs mark
none of these whatsoever. Oftentimes one needn’t make it clear whether they are using
formal or informal language when speaking to someone, so the second person pronoun may
simply be left out. In these cases, the default is to assume informality. As a general rule,
once the formality level is established by the usage of a specific pronoun at the start of a
sentence, that pronoun may be dropped thence on as long as the subject of the verb doesn’t
change, and it is clear that the referent is still the same. This is illustrated in example (1)
below.
Page 124
(1) Și ntsæljeu drëtamǽnt, vie voseùr irés marcadus, hi ciljenc irés duom.
[ʃɪ ˈntsæː.ʎø drɐ.taˈmæ̃ t vje vuˈsøyr̯ ɪˈres marˈka.dys hɪ ˈtʃi.ʎẽk ɪˈres dwõ]
și ntsælj - eu drëtamǽnt vie voseùr ir -és marcad
if understand -1SG right.ADV today PN.NOM.2SG.FOR go -FUT.2SG market
-us hi ciljenc ir -és duom
-ACC.SG and thence go -FUT.2SG home.ADV
“If I understand correctly, today you will go to the market and thence go home.”
For the third person, the pronouns are usually not dropped, as it is the only thing that can
convey formality and gender, which a verb cannot. Therefore, they are only likely to be
dropped in the same environments that 2nd person pronouns are, as discussed before, when
the referent is clear from context.
There are of course some environments where a pronoun can never be dropped, as it is
syntactically illegal. When it comes to first person pronouns, the person marking on the verb
is almost always enough to make things clear, and so the pronoun may be dropped. It is
somewhat arbitrary whether one drops the first person pronoun or not, often depending on
factors of formality, emphasis, clarity, enunciation, or even things like meter and syllable-
count in poetry and verse. An example of this dropping is given below in example (3).
Many other Romance languages change the form of the verb they are using when they are
using the formal register, as in French where the formal 2nd person pronouns is grammat-
ically plural, and thus indistinguishable from the 2nd person plural. Others, like Spanish,
make the formal pronoun grammatically third person (4). This is not the case in Laidzín—
formal 2nd person singular pronouns are grammatically singular, and thus take the 2nd
person singular form of the verb, and so on. There are distinct 2nd and 3rd person singular
and plural formal pronouns, corresponding to the informal forms.
Page 125
Laidzín
We can see in the above comparison of some Romance languages the different strategies
of marking formality. French, like Early Modern English, uses the same form for both the
second person singular formal as well as the second person plural. Spanish and Italian on
the other hand both use a third person singular form for the formal 2SG; Spanish continues
to use the third person form for the formal 2PL, however Italian reverts back to the 2PL form
voi for the 2PL, except in possessives, where it uses a third person form loro. Laidzín behaves
like French in that its 2nd person formal pronouns are still grammatically second person,
but it does not use the second person plural as the formal second person singular as French
does.
The Tables
In order to condense things a bit, I’m presenting the personal pronouns here all together
in tables. Then I shall discuss details of different pronouns, persons, and so on.
Singular Plural
1st 2nd Inf. 2nd For. 1st 2nd Inf. 2nd For.
Nominative jœu tu voseùr nos bos veusǽir
Genitive mie tsæ veusǽir nuotur, nuitri bvôtur, buitri votruór
Dative mi tui vosèr nuis buis veusæiris
Accusative mi tsi voseùrs nos bos voseôros
Locative meum tseum voseôreum nuic buic voseôruim
Ablative miș tsæș voseôres noșter boșter vosæșter
Instrumental meg tsæg voseùrc nuoc bvôc veusǽirc
Table 1: First and Second Person Pronouns
The first person singular is one of the only sets in which there are more than two stems,
namely that of the nominative jœ and that of the oblique cases m-.
As discussed above, the nominative form may often be dropped when it is the subject of a
verb, as shown in (5).
Page 126
There’s a neat etymology thing going on in this example that I’d like to touch upon. Earlier
when talking about Laidzín’s cases I mentioned how the locative, ablative, and instrumental
are innovated as opposed to the others which are inherited; well this isn’t fully true, I lied
to you guys a bit. One form of the endings is actually somewhat inherited from Latin, and
that is the instrumental endings in -g and -c (which are technically variants of one another).
These endings are first found in the pronouns, coming from the Latin formations/pronouns
mecum, tecum, secum and so on, with the formation of -cum being suffixed on being extended
to function as an instrumental singular ending for stems that end in vowels. It is still most
commonly found in pronouns, such as in example (4) above.
Example (6) shows a good usage of an ablative pronoun, marking some form of motion
away; in this case it tells the listener who the bag is being taken from.
As you may have noticed, the genitive 1st and 2nd(FAM) person plurals both have two
different forms in the table above. The former of each is what is known as the partitive
genitive—which shows that the head is a part of a whole in some way. The other is the
objective genitive, that is used for most other cases that do not have a partitive meaning.
When there are two forms of a pronoun listed or part of it is in parentheses (), this means
that there are two different forms used depending on what comes after them—if a word
Page 127
Laidzín
comes after one of these pronouns and it starts with a vowel, the form ending in a consonant
is used. If the word coming after starts with a consonant, the form ending in a vowel is used.
As one can see here, there is a lot going on with the personal pronouns, though it’s not
the most difficult thing to understand once you start to look at it, and when you understand
more of how the system works. First, I’d like to get a few basic concepts explained, such as
gender and formality.
Gender
Gender is an important part of Laidzín’s nominal system, and this certainly holds for per-
sonal pronouns. When it comes to pronouns, gender works somewhat differently than it
does for other nominals. Instead of being almost all grammatical gender–that is, a way of
sorting nouns into categories with corresponding agreement systems—gendered personal
pronouns are usually chosen according to a person’s gender. The three genders of Laidzín
are masculine, feminine, and neuter.
Masculine Masculine pronouns are used to refer to someone, or some people that are
masculine in gender.
Feminine Like the masculine, the usage of the feminine is rather straightforward—feminine
pronouns are used to refer to one or more individuals that are female or otherwise feminine
in their gender.
Neuter The neuter gender is a bit more complex in its uses than the former two. As in many
other languages with a neuter gender (at least in the pronouns) like Spanish and English,
neuter pronouns in Laidzín can be used to refer to inanimate objects or undefined things
whose grammatical gender is unknown or not important. However, it can also be used for
humans as well. For example, wherever referring to a group of people that is not all made
up of one gender, the neuter plural is used to refer to this group; an example of this is shown
Page 128
in (10). Furthermore, when talking of someone of an unknown or unspecified gender, the
neuter is also used in this case; this is also done when talking of a group of people whose
genders you do not know. Increasingly in today’s times, with growing acceptance of LGBT+
folks, neuter pronouns have been adopted by many as the only pronouns that they use, much
like the usage of the English pronouns they/them/theirs.
(10) Omnes fraires hi surores m-ía bënieront a ma fèta ze zinadaljes; lor am muout.
[ˈũnes ˈfrajres hɪ syˈrures ˈmia bɐˈnjerũt a ma ˈfɛta ze zɪnaˈdaʎes lur ã mwowt]
omn -es frair -es hi suror -es m -ía
all -NOM.M/F.PL brother -NOM.PL and sister -NOM.PL POS.1SG -PN.NOM.N.PL
bënieront a m -a fèta ze zinadaljes
come.PRET.3PL to POS.1SG - DET.ACC.F.SG party.ACC.SG of birthday
lor am -∅ muout
PN.ACC.NOM.PL.FAM love -1SG much.ADV
“All my brothers and sisters came to my birthday party; I love them very much.”
Formality Formality and politeness makes for a very interesting topic when it comes to
Laidzín’s pronouns, as unlike all other Romance languages (and, to my knowledge, European
languages as a whole), Laidzín differentiates formality vs. informality on the third person
pronouns as well as the second person, but not the first.
One important exception to all the rules of formality relating to status and other such
things is when talking either to or of God. God is, like in Early Modern English and other
European languages, always talked to and about informally, never with formal pronouns.
The Second Person Within the cultural context of the speech, there are a few different
factors when it comes to deciding whether to use a formal pronoun or an informal one
when speaking to someone. The core of it all is the social relationship between the speaker
and the listener, which in itself is no simple thing. One of the most important factors is
the familiarity between the two—is the person you’re talking to someone you know? A
stranger? An acquaintance? This distinction will make the rest much easier.
If you do not know the person you are talking to, it is most polite to address them formally,
rather than risk disrespecting them. Other factors come into play here, but if someone that
you don’t know that seems to be around your age addresses you informally, it’s generally
safe to address them informally too. Some people don’t care too strongly about formality,
and so, if addressed formally, may either return the same respect, or either directly or subtly
ask you to address them informally (such as by addressing you informally, even when you
address them formally).
Page 129
Laidzín
If you do know the person to whom you speak, there are another set of factors that are more
often relevant here than when considering how to address a stranger. It is also important
to note that when dealing with relations with those that you are closer to, individuals may
choose to be addressed informally, even if factors merit you addressing them formally; per-
sonal opinion must always be kept in mind, and it should be reiterated that these are general
guidelines and may not always hold up. The main factors at play are ones of status—age,
seniority, position in a hierarchy such as in the workplace or at school, and any other factors
of social status that one may think important when judging the relationship between them-
selves and another. Age is relatively straightforward—if you are younger than someone¸ you
will likely address them formally; if you are older than them, you will likely address them
informally. For example, children are normally allowed to address their parents informally,
but expected to change to formal when in a more formal or “proper” setting, such as in
the presence of company, with less-close family, or in any other setting where politeness,
decorum, and formality are expected to some degree. However, age may be outranked by
other factors, such as seniority and or position. Your boss may be younger than you, but
because of their ranking above you, formal address would normally be expected. When
talking to your grandmother, you would normally be expected to address her formally, and
she to address you informally.
As I touched on briefly when talking about interactions with strangers, there are cases
where you would be expected to address someone informally. The key example of this is
when you are talking to someone you don’t know who is (much) younger than you, such
as a child. To address them formally here would be odd, and may elicit confused and or
amused reactions.
The Third Person Formality with the third person is less straightforward than with the
second person, although it shares many similarities.
Usually, if you would refer directly to someone informally, you would refer to them as a
third person informally as well and vice-versa. However, this is not always actually the case.
All it really takes is not even a minute to think about the real-life usage, and you realize that
that will certainly not always be true. You may address someone formally, but talk about
them informally, or vice-versa. This can be done out of respect or in an insulting manner
(like speaking to someone formally, but speaking of them informally).
Another interesting place to look at the usage of third person pronouns and formality is
in the public sphere, with things like media. For example, some newspapers may almost
always use formal third person pronouns, whereas others don’t. There is an age divide
when it comes to the usage of formalities in media; older generations may feel as though
it’s impolite for a news program to use informal pronouns, whereas younger generations
may find it clunky and over-polite and over-formal for a publication to (almost) never use
informal pronouns. Other style guides recommend only using formal pronouns for those of
importance and/or high social status, like a head-of-state, a politician, a respected elder,
and so on. In cases where a referent’s social status and other important factors are unknown
or irrelevant, as in a simple sentence like “he picked apples on Sunday,” informal pronouns
are defaulted to. Examples (12) and (14) below show this phenomenon very well.
Page 130
(12) Isa jèt ja Regina Angljatseôrë.
[ˈi.sa jɛt ja rɪˈdʒiː.na ã.gʎaˈtseo̯.rɐ]
isa jèt ja regina angljatseôr -ë
PN.3SG.NOM.F.FOR be.3SG DEF.NOM.F.SG queen.NOM.SG England -GEN.SG
“She is the Queen of England.”
This sentence (14) is a good example of one where nothing is known about the person
being referred to, and nor is it important. Thus you have to use informal pronouns.
Reflexives The reflexive is formed with one pronoun for all numbers, genders, and per-
sons. It does decline for case, but only for the genitive, dative, and accusative. In cases
(situations) where other cases would normally be required, another pronoun must be sub-
stituted, such as the respective pronoun form + midzím “same, -self, emphatic.”
Reflexive
Gen sui
Dat și
Acc se
Table 3: Reflexive Pronouns
Page 131
Laidzín
Possessive Pronouns
Possessive pronouns as an umbrella category in Laidzín work much like personal pro-
nouns do, with some important differences. As with the personal pronouns, possessives
decline much like other nominals, declining for case, number, person, and gender. Unlike
the personal pronouns, there is no formality distinction in either the 2nd or the 3rd persons.
There are two important features of possessive pronouns in Laidzín: firstly, the possessive’s
gender agrees what the possessed not the possessor (16); secondly, there are actually two
forms of each possessive—a possessive pronoun, and a possessive determiner. In the rest of
this section when I’m talking about possessive pronouns, I mean possessives that function
as pronouns, as opposed to those that function as determiners. These may also be called
strong vs weak or stressed vs unstressed. However, it is important to note that there is only
a visible distinction between the pronouns and determiners in the 1st and 2nd singular, and
the 3rd SG/PL; there is no such morphological distinction in the 1st and 2nd plural.
As is implied by the names, possessive determiners function like other kinds of determiners,
coming (normally) before the thing they are possessing; and possessive pronouns may, like
other pronouns, stand more on their own, and thus normally come after the thing they are
possessing.
As you can see in the example above, the possessive is feminine even though the possessor
is a man. A side effect of this is that the gender of the possessor is not known, and nor is it
known whether it is one person or more possessing the thing in question. With no context,
this sentence could mean any of “the shirt is his,” “the shirt is hers,” “the shirt is theirs,” and so
on.
This sentence also makes use of a possessive pronoun, in contrast to a possessive determiner.
The sentence below (17) shows an example of the latter.
In this sentence we can see that the possessive, as expected, agrees with the possessed
rather than the possessor, but does clearly mark who the possessor is—it is the speaker, the
first person singular.
Page 132
The Tables
In this section, the tables are actually going to be much more extensive, as each per-
son/number form (excluding the 3rd person, which combines both 3rd SG and 3rd PL) has
in itself a singular and plural, as they agree with the possessed and not the possessor. The
form on the left will be the possessive pronoun, and the form on the right will be the posses-
sive determiner. I will not be including the IPA this time, as it would honestly take too much
work and take up much more room.
Page 133
Laidzín
usór -∅
wife -ACC.SG
“When did you and your wife wed?”
Third Person
Masculine Feminine Neuter
Singular
Nom sou/son sóa/sòn sou/son
Gen sui/și soë/së sui/și
Dat so soë/së so
Acc sous/sos sóa/sa sou/son
Loc som/seum soza soc/șin
Abl soș/ses soș/sòv soș
Inst seg/sô
Plural
Nom sui/și soë/së sóa/sa
Gen suor suar/sòr suor
Dat suis/sis
Acc sos sóas/sòs sóa/sa
Loc someus/suim sola/suvë suotsur/së
Abl soșter/sui
Inst seufir/șints sofra/șints sofra/șints
Table 6: Third Person Pronoun Forms
Page 134
șis ainj -is
POS.3PL.PN.DAT.M.PL lamb -DAT.PL
“Our Lady gives blessings to all her lambs.”
The above example shows how one of the other cases besides the nominative and ac-
cusative may be used, as those two are often the most commonly used or prototypical.
One feature I’d like to point out that is shown very well throughout all of the possessives
is the fact that there are two sets of endings for the locative, ablative, and instrumental
cases. These three cases, being innovations (though as mentioned before, some parts of
the instrumental are extensions of existing Latin formations), are very odd within the scope
of the whole nominal system. They basically transcend the declension system, and what
changes one will find are only based on gender and the shape of the root of the nominal.
There are, at the most basic level, two sets of endings- one that is used when a root ends
in a vowel (thus, they start with consonants themselves) and one that is used when a root
ends in a consonant (thus, they start with vowels themselves). Each subset of endings is
further divided by gender, though not every single one actually has different endings. For
example, the instrumental singular suffix used after consonants is always -ô, never changing
depending on gender; whereas the locative singular (for consonant roots) on the other hand
is -eum in the masculine, -it in the feminine, and -in in the neuter.
The vowel root set of endings is not found very commonly, as most roots end in a conso-
nant. Because of this, in modern-day Laidzín this set of endings may be argued as unpro-
ductive and/or fossilized, still being very well preserved in pronouns, but less so on more
uncommon nominals.
To the point I wanted to make at the start, the possessives generally show this distinc-
tion between endings very well, as the possessive pronouns are vowel roots, whereas the
possessive determiners are consonant roots. Because of this, each form takes a different set
of endings. However, this does not apply to the first and second person plural possessives,
which make no morphological distinction between possessive pronouns and determiners.
Conclusion
To end this article, I would simply like to give my thanks to you, the reader, for reading
this article. This is my first time participating in Segments and I’m very excited to finally
be writing an article for it. Lastly I’d like to give my thanks to my friends who encouraged
me to do this and who helped me out with it along the way, y’all know who you are!
Page 135
12 More than Five
by upallday_allen
Introduction
One of Wistanian’s most unique features is its paucal/plural grammatical number system.
Marking grammatical number on a nominal is a fairly new development, coming from the
grammticalization of the Taliv numeral an (‘more than five’). The general rule is that when
an item exceeds five in number, a Wistanian speaker would attach the -an suffix to the root,
however there are a handful of exceptions, such as with mass nouns and natural pairs. This
article will outline the history of Wistanian’s grammatical number system, the rules for its
application, and the exceptions to those rules.
Page 137
Wistanian
However, as with all rules, there are exceptions. The first exception is fairly easy to grasp.
When the Taliv were in contact with the NK languages, they borrowed their much more
extensive number system and adapted it, keeping their original words for 1-5 and adopting
the NK terms for anything above that. Because they now had specialized terms for quantities
above five, they dropped the word an whenever they used those terms. Therefore, the
Wistanian plural marker is not included on the nominal if it has a numeral attributed to it.
The plural marker is always used for two or more natural pairs, objects that usually come
in twos. For example, the singular angi refers to a person’s two eyes, but if a speaker wants
to refer to two people’s eyes (four eyes in total), they would use angin even though there
are fewer than five eyes. The same applies for pairs of feet, shoes, ears, partners, etc.
The final important exception are with mass nouns, which are nominals that refer some-
thing “uncountable.” In Wistanian, these typically refer to materials, liquids, colors, quanti-
fiers, temporals, people groups, foods, crops, and some abstracts. Some lexical items change
translations into English when they are pluralized. Examples include:
In some areas of the Wistanian-speaking world, speakers will flourish some words in the
plural, notably words with /r/. Typically, the /r/ phoneme is pronounced as a tapped [ɾ̻],
but in pluralized form, it is realized as a trilled [r̻].
Page 138
13 Aedian Definiteness
by Cawlo
When I create a language, I like to think of ways to make sure that certain grammatical
features would be hellish for a potential learner to memorize. Verbs, I find–in natural lan-
guages as well as in the realm of conlangs–are the ones that tend to be more likely to end up
with complex morphology; it seems like there’s simply many times more information that
might be tied to an action than to a thing, whether concrete or abstract. (Partly) for this
reason, I wanted the morphological complexity of Aedian, not to lie in verbs alone, but in
the nouns first and foremost. My goal with Aedian, however, wasn’t to create a big, ag-
glutinative system of nominal affixes and end up with these huge nouns that would inflect
for a myriad of different things. I wanted it to be a bit more subtle than that, but complex
nonetheless. In this article I will take you through part of what what makes Aedian nominal
morphology tricky, focusing on how definiteness is marked.
History
Proto-Kotekko-Pakan (PKP), the ancestor of Aedian, had a set of classifiers that were at-
tached to some nouns, sometimes as part of deriving new vocabulary. They specified infor-
mation about the noun and its qualities. Below are a few examples:
Classifier Class
*ka humans
*tl o animals
*pi shells, domes, membranes, means of protection
*cu abstract nouns, feelings
*h qe places
These classifiers hung out around their nouns but didn’t seem to have become fully inte-
grated into one phonological word until late PKP. A lot of early derivation and compounding
of nouns involved the noun itself while the classifier was left out of the equation.
Page 139
Aedian
Two derivational suffixes became grammaticalized in the Aedian branch of PKP. These
were *-ki and *-ŋe. The first one, *-ki, originally derived nouns denoting individuals, while
*-ŋe derived collective nouns. In the Aedian branch, however, they began to be used differ-
ently, instead coming to mark definiteness, singular and plural respectively.
Now, because of the nature of PKP classifiers, these two suffixes had, at the time of Proto-
Aedian, become infixes on nouns that originally had a PKP classifier while remaining as
suffixes on nouns without.
So to briefly summarize, Old Aedian effectively had two affixes, -gi(-) for the definite
singular and -we(-) for the plural, and they both appear as either suffixes or infixes depending
on the individual noun.
In Middle Aedian, i.e. a series of stages between Old Aedian and (“modern”) Aedian, two
important changes took place that would affect how definiteness is marked. First, the affixes
-gi(-) and -we(-) were reduced to off-glides or additional vowel length after monophthongs.
Page 140
Old Aedian Early Middle Aedian Meaning
gwevi *gwevi “pot”
gwegivi *gweivi “the pot”
gwewevi *gweuvi “the pots”
nomo *nomo “pole”
nomogi *nomoi “the pole”
nomowe *nomou “the poles”
vaga *vaga “person”
vagiga *vaiga “the person”
vawega *vauga “the people”
ṛugu *šugu “roof”
ṛugigu *šuigu “the roof”
ṛuwegu *šūgu “the roofs”
kavi *kavi “husband”
kavigi *kavī “the husband”
kaviwe *kaviu “the husbands”
After diphthongs, however, these affixes remained as such, though -we(-) interacted dif-
ferently with diphthongs ending in -u.
Page 141
Aedian
All in all, what we’ve ended up with is a mixed system of ablaut and infixing/suffixing, the
placement of both of which is unpredictable and must be learned for each individual noun.
PKP had a nominative particle *ca /ca/, which ended up as a suffix on nouns in later
stages. In Proto-Aedian, a vowel would be deleted between a preaspirated stop and a plain
stop, in that order. This caused vowels to be deleted before the nominative suffix *-ca in
certain words.
Page 142
PKP Proto-Aedian Meaning
*kaʰte *katte
“event; situation”
*kaʰte ca *katca
*ʰpeaʰqe *əpeaqqe
“pocket”
*ʰpeaʰqe ca *əpeaqce
*paʰka *pakka
“system; rhythm”
*paʰka ca *pakca
*kuʰpe *kuppe
“drum”
*kuʰpe ca *kupca
In Old Aedian, the geminated consonants of Proto-Aedian had been reduced to single stops,
and certain consonants had changed in quality. Mainly, *q had become /kʷ/, and *p had
become /f/.
As can be seen in the Old Aedian noun veakwe, the *q of Proto-Aedian did not survive
preconsonantally as /kʷ/ but merged with /k/. As Old Aedian evolved into ‘modern’ Aedian,
several important sound changes took place, the most relevant of which I will go over here.
Coda /f/ hardened into /p/. Postconsonantal /c/ would merge into the preceding conso-
nant, leaving behind gemination and an /i/, which would then form a diphthong with the
following vowel. This diphthong would later be smoothed out into a long monophthong.
Old Aedian /kʷ/ would change into /p/. Finally, Old Aedian /f/ would be completely lost.
Summa summarum
To sum up, the sound changes and morphological quirks of the Aedian language through
its different stages have given us an unpredictable system of ablaut for marking definiteness
and plurality as well, as a regular set of system of stops geminating (and in some cases
alternating between /p/ and /kː/ or /∅/ and /pː/) in the nominative case. Adding it all
together, it leaves us with with declension tables like that of the noun up:
Page 143
Aedian
This table with up is just one example of the unpredictability of Aedian nouns, and the
reader should be reminded that while up is definitely unpredictable, it’s entirely regular.
Correct, ekke is a completely regular definite singular nominative of up.
I hope this short article was able to provide some insight into the wondrous world of
Aedian nominal morphology and perhaps even give you, the reader, some inspiration for
interesting ways to develop unpredictable and complex morphological systems.
Page 144
14 Honorifics in Osana
by Chosen_By_A_Friend
Introduction
This article addresses the origin and development of honorifics in the Osana language.
Honorifics are grammatical elements used to convey the relative status between speakers.
The Osana language is a conlang spoken by a culture in my Tékumel-inspired conworld
Elapetrea.
The Osana people lived in five desert city-states, forming a political union based on shared
access to ancient irrigation technology predating their culture. Their society was complex,
with hierarchy and status being paramount to anything else.
This article mimics my design process for the honorifics in its structure. I began with a
loose outline of the layers of society, which I used to determine what those layers corre-
sponded to in the past, so I had context for how they should function in the present.
From that, I created a simple collection of honorifics for the relationships found within a
clan, for each relationship between the layers of society, and for situations where someone’s
status could not be accurately inferred from context.
Then I looked at the uses of the honorifics, and found ways for them to develop, filling
various grammatical roles. Honorifics in Osana expanded to become opinion, adjective and
pronoun markers. I also looked at ways this system might develop further to become a
full-fledged collection of status-based registers.
It should be noted that this article makes use of its own notation for years, based on the
Elapetrean calendar. Years take the format ‘digits BE,’ where BE stands for ‘Before Elapetar,’
referring to the world-conquest of the sorcerer Ayred Elapetar.
Page 145
Osana
Osana Society
In order to understand status and hierarchy in Osana culture, it helps to know what came
before. The Osana were not always so stratified as the rest of the article describes.
The ancestors of the Osana were farmers living in a hot steppe climate north of the desert
they would later call their home. They were loosely organised in clans, headed by a Tsapri
clan-elder. Clans were by and large equal. The steppe-farmers had a primitive democracy.
In the month Kayi, during the night of the full moon, the Osana clans would meet one-
another and settle disputes. Land rights, divorces and other legal matters were brought
before the Kayi-moot, and clan elders would vote on resolutions.
At dawn, they would elect one clan to be the Kayivakson, tasked with the responsibility
to ensure that the agreements of the Kayi would be honored by all the clans, and given the
deciding vote in any ties in the next Kayi.
Their religion was equally unhierarchical and democratic. Any clansperson, regardless of
who they were, was free to petition gods and demons alike for bountiful harvests or any
other thing they desired.
This resulted in disaster, however. Clans on the losing end of a vote petitioned Gr̩dozīm,
a great demon lord, to reverse a decision of the kayi in 3100 BE. Their ritual allowed him to
enter the mortal plane, and he conquered the steppes, forcing the steppe-farmers to abandon
their homes and flee southward into the desert.
This new environment caused change in the societal structure of the Osana. When all
your people are cramped together between thick walls of stone, and the outside world is
inhospitable, it suddenly becomes much more important to have clear and codified ways of
getting along than it was in the steppes where any disgruntled farmer could with some hard
work start their own farm and be self-reliant.
The first thing that changed is that the petitioner clans who summoned Gr̩dozīm were
made into pariahs. They were cast out of the cities, and were forced to become nomads
traveling from oasis to oasis through the help of native lizard people. The pariah clans, the
clanless and anyone else who did not have a clear role in society formed the absolute bottom
rung of the ladder.
The second thing that changed were the relative positions of power between clans. Every
clan began to fulfill specific roles in the cities. Some clans were gravediggers, others crafts-
men and yet others fulfilled administrative tasks like ensuring the irrigation system worked
properly. It should not be surprising then, that the latter clans began to amass more stature
and power than the other ones.
The tradition of Kayi was continued, but the noble clans began having more power and say
within it. Eventually, the clan elders of the most influential noble clans became equivalent
to petty kings ruling over the cities.
Page 146
That older role of a kayivakson clan, in charge of administration and oversight over other
clans, remained separate from the petty kings, and slowly became a hereditary position with
the creation of the role of high king, kayiride, who was able to create laws that superseded
any local ones.
The unrestricted nature of religion was the next thing to change. Access to magic and
religious rituals was restricted to a handful of priests selected from each clan, supervised by
the clan of the kayiride, the royal clan. Status within the priesthood reflected one’s clan’s
status in normal society, and having a charismatic and powerful priest was often one of the
most reliable ways for a clan to advance in status.
The actual stratification of Osana society was obviously more complex than this. This is
a simplified overview for the purposes of this article. In each stratum of society, there was
its own hierarchy of status, and the interaction between the strata was often much more
nebulous than it is made out to be in this article.
Among the lower clans, craftsmen might have similar status to noble clans, whereas clans
of gravediggers or spelunkers were considered unclean and low status. Likewise, cities
might have varying status at certain points in time which reflects on the relative status
of kings among themselves and of members of the royal clan depending on where they were
stationed.
There was competition between them to be sure, they were peer polities after all, but kings
generally recognized that it was for the best that the other petty kings were not overthrown
by the lower clans or disposed of by the lizard people and pariah clans.
The Osana used the model of the family for this. A good father oversees his sons and makes
sure they do the right things, in the same way the high king imposes good judgement and
responsibility on the petty kings.
Over time, it became customary for petty kings to refer to the high king as tatyana, ‘father,’
and for the high king to call them dzayana ‘son,’ as in example (1).
This metaphor was then extended onto the courts, where the petty kings were referred
to as valyoxtati, ‘city-father.’ Manners of address in the courts became more codified over
time, as the speech of kings gained ritualistic significance.
Page 147
Osana
These codes, varying between cities, eventually were chiseled into stone by priest Tavulyr̩
in 2650 BE, as a gift to high king Dovavīra. The high king decreed Tavulyr̩’s system to be a
new standard, and this small top-down language reform created the first honorifics system
in Osana.
The unknown status honorifics, -samesā, -adzekson, and -adzet have a complex function
in terms of politeness, as they allow for grey areas in how you refer to someone.
For instance, if someone is hogging a status that is not theirs to have, one might use
the honorific of unknown lower status -samesā to knock them down a peg. Especially the
reduplicated form, same-samesā, as the reduplication makes the low status more certain
and more demeaning.
Yet when someone of high status wants to honor someone from a lower status, due to an
act of exceptional heroism or skill, they might exclusively refer to them with -adzet, to mark
them as someone whose unfortunate lower status is undeserved (and will soon be remedied
by a marriage proposal into a higher clan if the clan’s scribes can scramble one together fast
enough).
An interesting note is that due to the closely contained life in cities, the older tradition
of patrilocal marriage that was practiced on the steppes is no longer the sole norm. This
means that both the bride and the groom can enter a period of uncertain status until they
Page 148
are officially married, where they are referred to as -adzet. Marriage contracts are often
kept secret by the elders of the involved clans until the marriage ceremony, so this status-
avoidance is meant to prevent anyone from referring to a bride or a groom as lower status
than they would be after the wedding, as this can be considered insulting.
In 2400 BE a comedic play is written where a dirty old chair comments on the folly of peo-
ple based on the things he witnesses in the guest room of a rather dysfunctional household.
Being the oldest speaking thing in the home, he considers himself the clan elder, though
none of the people there listen to him. Clan Elder Chair (Saje-tsapri in Osana), becomes a
popular figure parodied throughout the five cities. As such, referring to inanimate objects
as ‘clan elder’ (obviously out of earshot from the real clan elder), is considered affectionate.
This use can be seen in example (2).
But, likewise, if one is not particularly chambered by an object, a different honorific might
be used.
Page 149
Osana
Then, the construction N-tsapri started being used to refer to items as resembling some-
thing else, as in example (5).
Over time, the possessive was left out of the construction, and it was reanalysed as an
adjective marker. This can be seen in example (6).
These are mainly the clans responsible for grave digging, and those responsible for spelunk-
ing and dungeoneering: professions considered unclean by the elites.
In these dialects, the development of using honorifics to indicate qualities still holds true,
as in example (4), but it goes a different route over time, becoming a marker of category.
See example (7).
Over time, this category marking creates a system where any noun can be replaced with
some kind of category marker, and this system is very productive (as it functions as a specific
register for the lower clans allowing them to speak their mind more freely without the higher
clans understanding).
The system is extended to pronouns, with people playing around with different words to
refer to themselves. This results in pronouns becoming functionally an open class in these
dialects.
Page 150
PostOsana Development
Roughly around 1200 BE the Osana disperse again, abandoning their cities for reasons
still unclear. The languages of the five cities diverge, and form the basis for an entirely new
language family that would grow to dominate the southern subcontinent below the desert.
The most important change related to honorifics that will happen in these languages is the
creation of new status-based registers.
For instance, the pronouns from the dialect of the gravedigger and spelunker clans will
likely spread throughout the Osana dialects, being integrated within the registers. High sta-
tus registers would mostly retain the older pronouns, but lower registers would incorporate
new pronouns to differentiate status.
Likewise, the adjective endings discussed in P7 could start being applied to nominalized
verbs, and then reanalysed as status-indicating verb endings. Pair that with status-based
suppletion of verb roots, and a system that began as a purely nominal thing has become
something that affects all word classes.
Conclusion
In this article, I discussed the way honorifics developed in the Osana language, and how
they impacted other areas of the language. The honorifics developed as a means of codifying
complex social relationships in a court setting, but spread to all registers and dialects of the
language.
From there, it became associated with desirable qualities on inanimate nouns, paving the
way for it to over time become both an adjective marker and a marker of pronouns. There
are several further routes for expanding the honorific system, but only time will tell what
that will result in.
The most important take-away from this article, in my opinion, is that it does not matter
whether your language directly parallels developments in natural languages. The only thing
that matters, is that the development of features makes sense to you, and that you take
grammatical features and see what happens if you applied them creatively.
Page 151
Class and Case
15 in Bjark'ümii
by Lichen
Intro
What follows is a brief account of some of the features of nouns in the language Bjark’ümii,
as spoken by the [REDACTED] people living in the [REDACTED] region of [REDACTED].
My observations are drawn from data collected in the period of my fieldwork from [DATES
REDACTED], and while they are meant for the eyes of linguists, I have simplified and ex-
plained certain features to make it easier for the non-linguists at the expedition base-site. In
this report I will be looking at the noun classes and cases in Bjark’ümii, with discussion of
nominal predication, shape classifiers, the interaction of prepositions with the case system,
and possession reserved for future reports.
Class
What is a noun class? Nouns can be said to belong to different classes–say, Class A and
Class B–if they cause different agreement structures. Class A nouns will cause A-type agree-
ments while Class B nouns will cause B-type agreements, and these agreements manifest in
the parts of speech associated with these nouns, whether adpositions, adjectives, articles,
verbs, or anything else. In Bjark’ümii a noun from a given class will cause verbs that have
that noun as an argument to take a particular prefix for that class. Note that verbs exhibit
polypersonal agreement limited to two arguments, and thus a verb can have a maximum of
two agreement prefixes, and adjectives function identically to–and are considered a sub-
type of–intransitive verbs. The table below shows the ten classes, listed by number, name,
gloss, and associated verbal prefix.
Page 153
Bjark'ümii
The human singular and human plural (I and III) classes have two verbal prefixes associ-
ated with each due to a proximative obviative distinction. For more information about this,
please refer to my other reports.
What entities fall into what class is governed semantically, but before explaining the se-
mantic boundaries of the classes in detail, I think the following examples will give a prelim-
inary sense.
The singular classes (I, IV, VII) refer to things that act on their own or are found as singular
entities, while the plural classes refer to things that act together or as one (choir), or are
composed of many near-identical elements (abacus, mop), or are typically found with their
like kind (leaves, deer). The dual classes (II, V) refer to things found in pairs (twins, mated
pairs of animals), or two pairs of things that act as one (dancers, lovers). Classes IX and X
have no inherent plurality.
All nouns in the singular classes can be pluralised with the suffix -le (believed to be derived
from a truncated relative clause in Old Bjark’ümii with the adjective *lajii ‘many’), and nouns
in the plural or dual classes can be singularised with various prefixes to refer to one of the
group or pair. Indeed, the plural classes can also be pluralised with -le to refer to multiple
groups. See the following examples:
(1) Ńjaro
singer
“A singer”
(2) Ńjarole
Ńjaro -le
singer -PL
“Singers”
Page 154
(3) Ńjarul
choir
“A choir”
(4) Ińńjarul
in- ńjarul
SG- choir
“A choir member”
(5) Ńjarulle
ńjarul -le
choir -PL
“Choirs”
After a noun from a singular class has been pluralised, it may take singular or plural agree-
ment on the verb it is an argument of, depending on whether a distributive or collective
meaning is intended (for detail, see the section on Numerical Disagreement of my previ-
ous report). However, singularised nouns originally from a plural class must take singular
agreement on the verb.
Page 155
Bjark'ümii
Moving on from plurality, the inherent qualities of a noun will determine what class it falls
into. Classes I, II, and III are for human beings, or entities that behave like human beings
such as talking animals in stories, gods and spirits, and androids.
Classes IV, V, and VI are for animals and natural forces–anything that is capable of affecting
other things, or which appears to exhibit volition (at least through the lens of Bjark’ümii
culture), and which is not human. Infants fall into class IV because they do not walk upright
nor talk–essential human traits–but around the age of three they move into class I, and it
is worth noting here that the Bjark’ümii are reasonably lenient about infanticide provided
that it occurs before the infant is, by their reckoning, ‘fully human’. I was surprised to find
‘storms’ in class V, a dual class, and I asked an informant who said it was because storms
are a mixture of rain and wind. However, another informant told me it was because storms
were a mixture of lightning and rain.
Classes VII and VIII are for inanimate objects, typically things that cannot affect another
entity without the aid of something from classes I-VI: pens cannot write without the hand of
a human guiding them, and trees cannot topple unless the wind pushes them. This class also
includes dead animals, and body parts except the heart which belongs to class IV because,
unlike most of the rest of our bodies, we have no conscious control over it.
Class IX refers to locations primarily, or objects so large that they cannot be easily affected
by a person or which are effectively immobile, such as a large boulder. Smaller items can
fall into this class too if they are items commonly occurring as locative adjuncts, like chairs.
Lastly, Class X refers to abstractions: qualities, emotions, verbal nouns, and intangible natu-
ral phenomena like light and sound. What we would recognise as mass nouns often fall into
this category as well, like water or stone, but it is highly dependent on a particular context.
One notable example from the above list of an English mass noun not occurring as a Class X
Bjark’ümii noun is ‘rice’ which belongs to Class VIII because it is many small items together,
as opposed to an indivisible substance.
If you look at the list closely, you can see that certain nouns can belong to several classes at
once. This simply depends on how the item is behaving in a particular utterance. Countries,
for instance, might be Class IX for locations when they are being described in a physical
sense, and thus refer to the landscape, but fall into Class III when their actions are described,
because then they appear to be functioning like a group of people.
Page 156
Case
Overview
Bjark’ümii nouns can be marked as any of one of five cases: intransitive, ergative, ac-
cusative, locative, and instrumental. I have chosen to describe the cases with these names,
as they are understood by most readers, and they get across the main functions of those
cases; though, naturally, the cases have uses beyond what their labels would suggest. The
following gives a rough idea of the cases and their uses.
Case Use
Intransitive S-arguments, possessors
Ergative A-arguments
Accusative telic or ‘affected’ P-arguments
Locative location at/towards a place or time; goals;
recipients; atelic or ‘unaffected’ P-arguments
Instrumental adverbial constructions; instruments; means; topics
The different noun classes are marked for different cases like so:
Strictly speaking, the case markers are actually clitics that attach to the end (or surround,
as in the case of the ergative) a whole noun phrase, which is why they are described in the
table with ‘=’ instead of ‘-’, to better align it with glossing convention.
While it might be simpler to analyse this system as not having an intransitive case at all
given that it is zero-marked for all noun classes, for those who are interested in discussions
about morphosyntactic alignment it is useful. Following from this analysis, we can say that
classes I-VI (humans and animates, collectively referred to as the ‘common’ class) appear to
be nominative-accusative, whereby S- and A-arguments are marked the same (zero-marked),
leaving P-arguments marked with the =t clitic. Classes VII and VIII appear to be ergative-
absolutive, with S- and P-arguments marked the same (zero-marked), leaving A-arguments
marked with the circumclitic C= =r (further explanation of C= to follow). Classes IX and
X seem to be tripartite, with all of S-, A-, and P-arguments marked in different ways: S is
zero-marked, A has the ergative circumclitic C= =r, and P has the clitic =t. We could
describe this system using the table below, where a tick means a case is marked, and a ‘Ø’
means unmarked.
Page 157
Bjark'ümii
The intransitive case is used for S-arguments, or more plainly for the subjects of intransitive
verbs and adjectives.
The ergative case is used for agent-like arguments of transitive clauses (which is why I
choose to describe it as ‘ergative’ instead of ‘nominative’) in (16), while the accusative case
is used for the patient-like arguments of transitive clauses (16). The locative case is used
for locative adjuncts denoting where an action happens (16), but also implies an allative
quality for motion towards an entity, and thereby is also used for goals and intentions. Some
verbs require a locative case for their P-argument where the action leaves the P-argument
unaffected (17), or is atelic (18), and the accusative is for P-arguments where the P-argument
is affected, or where the action is distinctly telic (19).
Page 158
The instrumental case is used for tools and instruments, though applicative constructions
and incorporated nouns can fulfil this role, and more often describes the way in which an
action is performed (20, 21), and can also mark discourse topics when utterance-initial (22).
What strikes me about this system is that nouns appear to be unmarked where they per-
form the role expected of a noun belonging to that class, and are marked otherwise. One
would expect animate entities to be doing actions and as such are unmarked when agents
of transitive clauses, and conversely we expect inanimate entities to have actions done to
them and therefore are unmarked when patients of transitive clauses. Locations we expect
neither to do things, nor be materially affected by much, and so are marked in either case,
but are unmarked as where things occur or as destinations of other actions because that is
their expected role. Abstractions likewise we do not expect to affect anything or be affected
by anything, but may describe states in which an action is done.
Case Evolution
Reconstructions from old texts suggest that Old Bjark’ümii had a slew of post-nominal
classifiers that agreed with their head noun’s class. These then became dissociated from
their nouns and fused with the verb to form the verbal agreement prefixes. At the point
just prior to this fusion, word order was–so far as we can tell–strictly SOV, but after the
fusion, word order became freer because the verbal prefixes indicated the central syntactic
roles played by the nouns. However, hereafter certain nouns began to re-acquire the post-
nominal classifiers from other classes in circumstances where they were behaving more like
nouns prototypically from the class of that classifier: direct objects acquired the inanimate
classifiers; indirect objects acquired the location classifier; and other roles oblique roles
acquired the abstraction classifier. The examples below outline my hypothesised evolution
of this system.
t0 : Strict SOV.
Page 159
Bjark'ümii
*pi:tair kijaitra:ka:
piitair ki- jai- tra:ka:
Peter CL- CL- strike
“Peter strikes him.”
t2 : Fused classifiers analogise across all verbs, creating freer word order.
*pi:tair kijaitra:ka:
piitair ki- jai- tra:ka:
Peter CL- CL- strike
“Peter strikes him.”
*pi:tair kijaitra:ka:
piitair ki- jai- tra:ka:
Peter CL- CL- strike
“Peter strikes him.”
Page 160
Bííter kjaitrááka ulokt
Bííter =Ø ki- je- trááka ulok =t
Peter =ERG H.SG- H.SG.OBV- strike man =ACC
“Peter strikes the man.”
Bííter kjaitrááka
Bííter =Ø ki- je- trááka
Peter =ERG H.SG- H.SG.OBV- strike
“Peter strikes him.”
t0 : Dummy human classifier to stand in as A-agent, with reduced form of v-r root meaning
‘use.’
t1 : Dummy human classifier and reduced verb fuse onto inanimate noun. Inanimate clas-
sifier reintroduced now that the inanimate noun is a non-oblique argument.
t3 : Animate direct object acquires inanimate classifier as suffix. Verb changes to nonvoli-
tional form to match the semantics of its A-argument.
Page 161
Bjark'ümii
Page 162
Challenges
Maryannic Oblique Noun
16 Phrases
by Formor Immington
Unique among Indo-European languages of the time, Maryannic does not seem to make
use of an independent class of prepositions. The exact process of this development is not
fully understood, but it has been attributed to influence from Hurrian, the language of the
people of Mitanni, which similarly lacks morphological adpositions, often using relational
nouns instead (Bush, pp. 96-102). This study will examine three phenomena in Maryannic
that serve the same purpose as prepositions in other Indo-European languages: preverbs,
relational nouns, and enclitic particles.
Preverbs
Preverbs are a category known in Indo-European studies. They are morphemes prefixed
to verbs to convey some kind of adverbial meaning or otherwise modify the verb (Booij and
Van Kemenade). Unlike in many other older Indo-European languages, Maryannic preverbs
are completely inseparable from their verbs; they do not undergo the process of tmesis nor
can they double as adpositions directly governing nouns.
Maryannic preverbs have three broad categories of use: expressing direction of movement,
demotion, and general change of verb meaning. The latter of these three does not add a new
oblique noun, often being used for simple transitives. For example, the verb bhar- ‘bear’
means ‘to hire’ when prefixed with pra- ‘fore-’:
Page 165
Māryanyā
Among these are two known instances of noun-incorporation reanalyzed as preverbs, šrad-
dhat ‘believes’ (< PIE *ḱréd-dʰh₁eti, ‘heart-gives’) and pšupyat shepherds’ (< PIE *pḱu-
ph₂-yé-ti ‘livestock-guards’). Like other preverbs, they replace the placeholder i- prefix on
perfective verbs, and they do not reflect the forms inherited for the nouns they are related
to; compare žhardayam ‘heart’ and pašuš ‘small cattle.’
The most common use of preverbs is to express direction of motion, often of simple intran-
sitives:
However, when an adjunct in the locative case is used in tandem with a directional preverb,
the preverb indicates the relationship between the locative adjunct and the subject:
Preverbs can also act like applicatives, promoting adjunct nouns to a morphological ac-
cusative. The specific relationship between the adjunct and the arguments is determined
by the meaning of the preverb. If the sentence is transitive, both the direct object and the
adjunct will be marked as accusative.
Page 166
Relational Nouns
Relational nouns are morphological nominals that form complex preposition-like phrases.
These are common to many languages, including English, which features phrases like ‘at
hand’, ‘on top of’, etc. Unlike English, which connects relational nouns to their heads with
adpositions, Maryannic, like its neighbour Hurrian, only uses cases to connect the two.
Many relational nouns are of native Indo-Iranian origin, such as darghatā ‘length,’ c.f.
Sanskrit dīrghatā. These can be used as canonical nouns as well as pseudo-adpositions.
Relational nouns loaned from other languages can only be used as relational nouns, not in
their original meanings. For example, pāni (< Akkadian pānu) is only used to mean ‘in the
presence of, in front of’, not ‘face’, as in Akkadian.
Enclitic Particles
The class of enclitic particles in Māryanyā consists mostly of loans from Hurrian, as well as
native vocabulary such as ca ‘and’. They serve various syntactic functions, often connecting
clauses, and are appended directly onto their heads.
Page 167
Māryanyā
The enclitic particle reconstructed as iv has been connected to the Sanskrit particle iva. It
usually conveys the meaning of ‘as if’ when attached to a verbal clause.
However, iv is also attested appended to a noun, often in accusative case, with the meaning
‘like’ or ‘as.’ It is still analyzed as a general enclitic particle, not a postposition, because it
can also attach to verbal clauses.
References
Booij, Geert and Ans Van Kemenande. ‘Preverbs: an introduction.’ Yearbook of Morphol-
ogy 2003, 2003. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4020-1513-7_1.
Page 168
Nonverbal Predication in
17 Seoina
My main conlang Mwaneḷe is fairly verb-heavy, so when I set out to create Seoina, one
of my goals was to make it noun-heavy instead. Adjectives are more or less the same word
class as nouns: words whose primary meaning refers to an entity can be used as modifiers
and words whose primary meaning refers to a property can be used to refer to an entity with
that property. So kala ‘happy’ can mean ‘a happy person’ and isto ‘friend’ can mean ‘friendly’
without any overt derivation. Manner, time, and location are more often expressed using
prepositional phrases than using adverbs. Verbal nouns are prominent in the grammar, and
there are a lot of periphrastic tense and aspect constructions made with prepositions plus
verbal nouns. As part of this tendency towards nouniness over verbiness, Seoina uses several
constructions with clauses whose predicates are not verbs.
For Segments #03, the challenge is to describe non-canonical uses of nouns. Classically,
verbs are predicates and nouns are arguments. For the challenge, I’m submitting a descrip-
tion of some constructions where nouns are used as predicates. This article is expanded
from a response to u/tryddle’s Typological Paper of the Week #25 activity on r/conlangs.
Nonverbal Predicates
Seoina uses nonverbal predication fairly broadly. The most common use is to link a noun
subject to a noun or adjective complement (since adjectives are very nouny, this is the
same construction). Adjective and noun predicates are constructed with the subject in the
nominative case juxtaposed with the complement in the absolutive case. I think of this (and
maybe all of the other nonverbal predicates) as constructions with a null copula, but I’m not
sure what evidence there is to say a null copula is really present.
Noun predicates can be used for stating that two noun phrases refer to the same thing
(e.g. ‘The doctor is Anna’) and for stating that one noun phrase is a member of the category
denoted by the other noun phrase (e.g. ‘Anna is a doctor.’) Adjective predicates are used
to state that the subject noun has a particular property. Usually these refer to long-term
Page 169
Seoina
properties rather than temporary states. Sentence 2 says that Loima has a happy disposition
overall. To say that she’s happy right now, you’d use a prepositional phrase like deo kalau
‘in happiness.’
Nonverbal predication is also possible with quantifiers. Quantifiers don’t agree with the
noun when they’re used as predicates. Some non-agreeing quantifiers require classifiers,
and I’m not sure whether or not quantifiers with classifiers are allowed as predicates.
Adverbial predicates, including locative expressions, are expressed the same way, with
the subject in the nominative case juxtaposed to the complement. Negation in nonverbal
predicates shows up as the second-position clitic =meo only, without the usual negative
concord on the verb (since there’s no verb to have negative concord on).
NonNominative Subjects
In addition to the subject+complement constructions above, there are several types of
nonverbal predicates with subjects in cases other than the nominative.
A noun alone in the absolutive case can be used to state identity or as an existential clause.
Locative clitics fo ‘here’ and lua ‘there’ are common in existential clauses, but they aren’t
required.
Page 170
(5) Hisi fo tig.
hisi =fo tig
small =here tree
“It’s this small tree.”
Or: “Here’s a small tree.”
Predicative possession of indefinites is expressed using a verbless clause with the possessor
in the dative case and the possessee in the absolutive case. Possession of definite nouns is
usually expressed using a locative expression with the preposition sa ‘with’ instead of with
the dative possessor construction.
Wants and needs can also be expressed using a verbless clause with the subject in the
ablative case and the complement in the absolutive. Since there’s no verb ‘to want,’ this
construction is used with infinitives to say that someone wants to perform an action.
Three common aspectual constructions use prepositions plus verbal nouns: the perfect
with uan ‘after,’ the progressive or imperfective with deo ‘in, at,’ and the progressive with
haura ‘to, for.’
Page 171
Seoina
Page 172
Patterns of Reduplication
18 in Mā Sip
by Lysimachiakis
Mā Sip is a language that I started to work on during the 8th Speedlang Challenge in March
2021. I have written about the language previously for Segments. In Issue #01: Phonology,
I wrote a phonology sketch for the language as part of the challenge posed in that issue. The
process was fun, and in particular I enjoyed developing what I’ve termed a euphony system
for Mā Sip, in which certain vowels pair together based on some phonaesthetic ideas. In
Issue #02: Verb Constructions, I returned to Mā Sip and focused on noun incorporation
processes in the language. I developed more clearly what the verbal paradigm was, and
how nouns (and other verbs) could enter into the paradigm for syntactic, semantic, and
discourse reasons.
This time, my attention turns to another pervasive feature of the language: reduplication.
There are at least ten different reduplication patterns actively in play in Mā Sip, applying
variably to nouns, verbs, and grammatical particles to impart a wide variety of meanings.
While certain patterns may apply equally to nouns and to verbs, their meanings differ slightly
when used with one compared to another, though the meanings are usually quite clearly
connected. Because the language is otherwise so isolating, reduplication gives me license
to be a bit more playful with the language and how words are constructed. It allows me to
get a great deal out of a single lexeme, and allows me to delve deeper into fleshing out the
semantic space of each word.
This article will present features grouped by reduplication pattern. Patterns may make
reference to euphony, which is a feature of the language in which vowels will shift to be
more ‘euphonious’. In the euphony system, a vowel is liable to shift to its paired vowel when
Page 173
Mā Sip
reduplicated.1 Typically, this is a change in height: a high vowel will go to a mid vowel, a
mid vowel will go to a low vowel. Low vowels, in turn, can cycle back to mid. This is best
illustrated by Table 1 below.
i u
e•ẽ o•õ
ɑ•ɑ̃
Because the high vowels /i u/ do not have any partner vowels themselves, euphony can
be a bit unpredictable. Typically, euphony applies rightward; however, some of the redupli-
cation patterns here involve leftward reduplication. Variant forms can then emerge, either
treating the reduplicated element as the source, and therefore applying euphony to the root,
or the root remains unchanged, and ‘reverse’ euphony may occur. (e.g. tek Ñ *tetek Ñ
titek OR tetak)
In the sections below, ‘P’ is used as a shorthand for ‘pattern,’ so that ‘P1’ is ‘Pattern #1.’
With Nouns
Animate
Nouns that have human entities or living being as their referents utilize this pattern to
make a diminutive. For common forms, the first syllable (that which was reduplicated) is
sometimes dropped to add an additional layer of affection.
This type of diminutive use is particularly common when used in vocative constructions,
where the entity is being directly addressed.
1
High vowels ‘pair’ with mid vowels, but nothing pairs with high vowels, and so they are often called
‘lonely vowels’ in Mā Sip’s documentation
Page 174
(5) Pihe la! Da mina la!
pihe la da mina la
puppy VOC IMP go.2.1 PSV
Inanimate
With inanimate nouns, this pattern instead derives a term that means the ‘creator’ or
‘maker’ of the root. Some of these meanings can be idiosyncratic, as in (9).
With Verbs
Active Verbs
With active verbs, this pattern is used to derive an agent noun from the verb. These forms
are often lexicalized in such a way that the connection to the root can be less clear in some
cases, or abstract, as in (12) below.
Stative Verbs
Stative verbs behave a bit different from active verbs; this pattern still expresses nominal-
ization, but rather than expressing an agent, it instead nominalizes the concept, or a noun
closely related to the concept. This can sometimes be a patient of an unaccusative verb, as
in (16).
2
When a vowel-initial syllable is reduplicated, an epenthetic consonant is inserted for the reduplicated
element, depending upon what the vowel is: /a/ gains a /g/, /i e/ gain /h/, and /u o/ gain /w/. Note that
this is dependent upon the vowel quality of the reduplicated vowel, not the root vowel that it is copying. This
distinction is important as it means that the epenthetic consonant is dependent upon euphony.
Page 175
Mā Sip
With Nouns
Unlike with the previous reduplication pattern, there is no distinction here between ani-
mate and inanimate nouns in their treatment. This pattern expresses the sense of ‘a large
quantity of.’
With Verbs
Active Verbs
Stative Verbs
With stative verbs, this pattern leads to more figurative interpretations of the state in
question.
Page 176
Unlike the other full reduplication pattern, it’s the final CVCCVC rather than the initial that
is reduplicated.
With Verbs
This can only occur with active verbs. In these cases, the verb takes on an iterative reading.
With Particles
This reduplication can occur with grammatical particles. When it happens in this context,
it marks contrastive focus; the phrase is typically fronted as well. This is most common with
objects, and is not often used for other elements of a phrase.
With Nouns
With nouns, this pattern functions as an augmentative, with typically lexicalized meanings.
Page 177
Mā Sip
With Verbs
With verbs, this pattern is used to express a durative or an inchoative, dependent on the
verb type.
Active Verbs
With active verbs, this pattern causes a durative reading. These readings are occasionally
lexicalized.
(39) pāi ‘to sleep’ Ñ pēpai, pāpei ‘to sleep for a while; to oversleep’
(40) ābat ‘to walk’ Ñ ēgābat, āgōbat ‘to go for a walk’
(41) alē ‘to write’ Ñ ēgalē, āgelē ‘to write for a while; to journal’
(42) wit ‘to leave’ Ñ wīwit, wīwet ‘to leave for a while (and then return); to move away’
Stative Verbs
With stative verbs, this pattern causes an inchoative reading: to enter into the state in
question.
(43) wah ‘to fall asleep’ Ñ wōwah, wāwoh ‘to start falling asleep’
(44) xos ‘to be dry’ Ñ xūxos, xōxas ‘to start to dry’
(45) sahah ‘to be comfortable’ Ñ sēsahah, sāsehah ‘to start to feel comfortable’
(46) ōnoi de ‘to be a burden’ Ñ ōwānoi de ‘to start to be a burden or bother’
With Nouns
With nouns, this construction creates another noun that is loosely associated with the root
noun. This is a highly lexicalized pattern, in that the resulting meaning cannot always be
known with certainty, though once it is known, the connection is clear. With a kinship
term, the associated noun typically refers to their spouse. With some nouns, the meaning is
euphemistic.
Page 178
(51) Mhina ‘Mhina’ Ñ Mhinana ‘Mhina’s character’
(52) Pēs ‘Pes’ Ñ Pēstapē ‘Pes’s personality’
This construction with names has led to some forms being entirely lexicalized when applied
to specific historical names.
With Verbs
With verbs, this pattern also creates a noun that is associated with the verb. However, in
this case, it acts as a simple action nominalizer.
With Nouns
With Numerals
This pattern, when applied to numerals, is used to express age. It is thought that is an
extension of a common conceptual metaphor, TIME IS A LOCATION.
Page 179
Mā Sip
With Verbs
(71) enga lowa ‘to speak English’ Ñ enga lowa lafiso ‘used to speak English’
(72) sagil ‘to come back’ Ñ sagil safisa ‘used to come back’
(73) sahah ‘to be comfortable’ Ñ sahah safisa ‘to usually be comfortable’ (but not now)
(74) xos ‘to be dry’ Ñ xos xafisos ‘to usually be dry’
This pattern can co-occur with a particle mak to indicate a single entity from a larger
grouping, collection, or unit. It may seem counter to logic for a pluralization pattern to
select a single individual, but the idea is that the pattern emphasizes the plurality of the
group to contrast it with the individual. One might imagine (79), for example, being used
by a parent telling their kid that they may invite one of their friends, with this construction
indicating that they will have to choose one from the larger group.
Page 180
P9: Rhyming Reduplications
P9.1: Full bw Reduplication
bw- reduplication is a pattern in which the word is reduplicated in full, but with the onset
replaced with bw. This is a bit unusual in that /bw/ itself is not normally a valid sequence
in Mā Sip words. This pattern is only used with nouns and indicates ‘(all) different kinds
of.’
Pattern Stacking
There are certain instances where multiple reduplication patterns can be applied to a sin-
gle root, resulting in a complex reduplicated form. There are many such examples of this
occurring, so this list here should not be taken as exhaustive, but more as examples of how
such processes might interact.
P2 + P5
Pattern #5, being more abstract in its meaning, lends itself well to stacking with other
patterns. Pattern #2, which indicates a large amount of something, combined with Pattern
#5, which indicates something associated with the base form, produces lexical items that
are differentiated from a simple P5 application in that they typically indicate something
larger than what would be expressed by P5 alone.
Page 181
Mā Sip
(91) a. ãski ãske ‘to have a fever’ Ñ ãski ãske namãske ‘having a slight fever’
Sai fe ãski ãske namãske ni pai pho.
sai fe ãski ãske namãske ni pai pho
1.SG ATTR have a slight fever RLS sleep PFV
“Having a slight fever, I went to bed.”
b. wōwah ‘start to fall asleep’ Ñ wōwah namōwah ‘kinda starting to fall asleep’
Sai to fe wōwah namōwah ni xan pho.
sai to fe wōwah namōwah ni xan pho
1.SG man ATTR kinda starting to sleep RLS shake PFV
“I shook the guy who was kinda starting to fall asleep.”
c. duk duk la ‘to be reheated’ Ñ duk duk la namuk ‘reheated a bit’
Otkiba ni uma a kūna fe duk duk la namuk.
ot- kiba ni uma a kūna fe duk duk la nam- duk
1.SG- brother RLS eat ACC chicken ATTR bake RDP PSV NAM - RDP
“My brother ate the partially-reheated chicken.”
Page 182
Final Thoughts
Reduplication is everywhere in Mā Sip, and this article serves as an introduction to its
many and varied uses in the language, but this should be considered a work-in-progress.
For starters, many of these patterns are productive, but some of their uses many be seen
as more ‘decorative’ than functionally grammatical/lexical; other, more ‘regular’ pieces of
grammar can often be used to achieve the same meanings. In that way, I have not yet
made larger design decisions about how these reduplicated forms may differ semantically
from more routine constructions. For example, I am still unsure what the specific difference
between tana balana ‘best friend’ using bal- reduplication, and sūsō tana ‘best friend’ using
the superlative sūsō ‘best’ might be. So, there is a lot of work yet to be done specifically
regarding the semantic intricacies of these reduplication systems. I do hope, however, that
in presenting these uses I might inspire you to consider using reduplication in your own
languages. Mā Sip is obviously an extreme example of reduplication gone wild, but I would
love to see it used creatively in your projects as well!
- Lys
Page 183
Coming Attractions
Thank you for reading Segments! We hope you will join us again for Issue #04:
Lexicon
Keep your eyes out for announcements in different conlang communities with more details
on content guides, submission guidelines, deadlines, and more!
If you wish to cite the contents of this publication, please use the following format:
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by‐nc‐nd/4.0/
Segments.
PROJECT MANAGER Lysimachiakis
EDITORS Lysimachiakis
Miacomet
PROOFREADERS Lysimachiakis
Miacomet
Chrsevs
Intended as both an educational resource and a way to showcase the
best work the r/conlangs community had to offer, Segments. was
started in 2020 on an initiative by u/Lysimachiakis and u/Slorany,
with great amounts of help from the rest of the subreddit s moder‐
ation team.