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Hellenisteukontos in particular developed quite a following, and was even cited in print a few times.\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI resumed writing online in 2015 at \u003Ca href=\"https:\/\/www.quora.com\/\"\u003EQuora\u003C\/a\u003E (see my \u003Ca href=\"https:\/\/www.quora.com\/profile\/Nick-Nicholas-5\"\u003Eprofile\u003C\/a\u003E there), and I continued doing so until it became untenable for me to (see \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/necrologue.opoudjis.net\/2017\/09\/04\/2017-08-31-bis-statement-translation\/\"\u003Emy statement\u003C\/a\u003E). I dare say I developed a following there too.\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nOne thing I did relearn during my stay on Quora was that I can write both about stuff I do know about, and stuff I actually don't know about—but with enough insight that I can make a reasoned argument. That's something I enjoyed doing greatly, and I hope to keep doing it. Just as I hope to keep sharing the expertise I have on things I am an expert in.\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nWhen I decamped from Quora, I followed an exodus of users to \u003Ca href=\"https:\/\/medium.com=\/\"\u003EMedium\u003C\/a\u003E (see my \u003Ca href=\"https:\/\/medium.com\/@nicknicholas_32843\"\u003Eprofile\u003C\/a\u003E there), and I may have provoked a few others to join me. For all Quora's grotesqueries (and they are legion), Quora was a more congenial place to me than Medium: compared to my Quora feed (admittedly after two years of curation), Medium was a lot more clickbait, a lot more superficial, and a lot more full of sterile political posturing. I will continue to check in there with the \u003Ca href=\"https:\/\/medium.com\/quora-extension\"\u003EQuora Diaspora\u003C\/a\u003E, but I won't be making it my home.\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nSo I'm coming home to the blogs I had left six years ago, but I am relocating them to Wordpress instances: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.opoudjis.net\/\"\u003Ehttp:\/\/hellenisteukontos.opoudjis.net\u003C\/a\u003E and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/opuculuk.opoudjis.net\/\"\u003Ehttp:\/\/opuculuk.opoudjis.net\u003C\/a\u003E. I encourage you to update any links you have to the prior blogs; I will not be updating them. I have migrated both my blogspot and my relevant Quora content to those two new instances on my website. Quora makes it very difficult to get your content out of its honeytrap, and none of the topics or comments export. I've spent a couple of days categorising the Quora posts; you'll pardon me if I don't manually retag them as well.\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI have also broadened the scope of Hellenisteukontos: moving forward it will cover not the Set Intersection of Greek and Linguistics, but the Set Union. Greek culture, music, literature and history are in scope of it now; so is general linguistics and linguistics of other languages. \n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI won't be posting with the same level of frequency I did on Quora, a frequency that was clearly\u0026nbsp;\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nunsustainable. I aim to be doing larger essays, although I did plenty of essay writing on Quora anyway. But I will welcome people suggesting Quora questions for me to answer here. I will not be posting anything to Quora; my friends from Quora are free to do with my content what they will on Quora (so long as they link back here.)\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI look forward to reconnecting with old friends and new, and I look forward to thinking out loud and posting what strikes my fancy, in a forum that I find more congenial.\n\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI'm back."},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/209586717209775215\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2017\/09\/blog-moved.html#comment-form","title":"901 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/209586717209775215"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/209586717209775215"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2017\/09\/blog-moved.html","title":"Blog moved"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"901"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-7769412134652016876"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-28T12:07:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-28T12:11:40.099+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Aeolic"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"etymology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Aeolic θᾶς \"until\""},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"This is an \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.readthefuckingmanual.com\/\"\u003ERTFM\u003C\/a\u003E question, and someone must have already worked out the answer to it; but that someone didn't work out the answer to the question in the 19th century, which would have let me look up the answer easily online. I'm actually halfway hoping that a reader will find the answer in their library, and let me know of the writeup.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe question is, what does θᾶς mean in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Alcaeus_of_Mytilene\"\u003EAlcaeus\u003C\/a\u003E, and why.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EIt's a tiny word of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Aeolic_Greek\"\u003EAeolic\u003C\/a\u003E. (At least, I think it's Aeolic.) The tinier the word, the more difficult it is to work out what it means. And θᾶς is not a word that turns up in the documents available in the 19th century: it isn't mentioned in the Ancient grammarians, or the fragments of Alcaeus known at the time. The word turns up in two fragments dug up at \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Oxyrhynchus\"\u003EOxyrhynchus\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eκῆνος δὲ παώθεις Ἀτρεΐδα[.].[\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδαπτέτω πόλιν ὠς καὶ πεδὰ Μυρσί̣[λ]ω̣[\u003Cbr \/\u003Eθᾶς κ’ ἄμμε βόλλητ’ Ἄρευς ἐπιτ.ύχε..[\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτρόπην· ἐκ δὲ χόλω τῶδε λαθοίμεθ..[·\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut let \u003Ci\u003Ehim\u003C\/i\u003E, kinsman by marriage to the Atreidai,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ekeep on devouring the city just as he did with Myrsilos,\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cb\u003Euntil such time as\u003C\/b\u003E Ares chooses to turn us\u003Cbr \/\u003Eto our weapons. This present anger may we put from our minds... (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/openlibrary.org\/books\/OL16651803M\/Poetarum_Lesbiorum_fragmenta_ediderunt_Edgar_Lobel_et_Denys_Page.\"\u003EPage \u0026amp; Lobel\u003C\/a\u003E fr. 70 lines 6–9; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/mkatz.web.wesleyan.edu\/Images2\/cciv243.Alcaeus.html\"\u003Etranslation from A.M. Miller\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E...]ξηι δὲ θᾶς̣ κε Ζεῦς̣ [ \"... \u003Cb\u003Euntil\u003C\/b\u003E Zeus...\" (Page \u0026amp; Lobel fr. 206 line 6)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow, the translators know what θᾶς means: both the Loeb and the Miller render it as \"until\". Someone somewhere would have published how they worked out that θᾶς means \"until\". But without finding it anywhere obvious online, I don't have a citation for how they know what it means.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI can guess, which is why I have a blog. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eθᾶς has a circumflex, which implies a contraction—i.e. that it goes back to something in proto-Greek like *tʰaos or *tʰaes\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAttic Greek has a word for \"until\", which is ἕως \/héɔːs\/. That looks like it could be related.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAttic εω always makes you think of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/declension-of-ionic-forward-to-modern.html\"\u003Equantitative metathesis\u003C\/a\u003E—that is, it should correspond to Ionic ηο, and proto-Greek, Doric and Aeolic *ᾱο. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EDoric *ᾱο would have contracted to ᾱ, and would have taken a circumflex as a contract\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAnd indeed, Attic ἕως \/héɔːs\/ corresponds to Epic ἧος, εἵως \/hɛ̂ːos, héːos\/, Doric ἇς \/hâːs\/, and Aeolic ἆς \/âːs\/, all meaning \"until\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESo an Aeolic θᾶς ends the same way as the Aeolic for \"until\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBut why is there an initial \/tʰ\/?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf proto-Greek had something like *ἇος \/hâːos\/, and we're trying to explain \/tʰâːs\/, the simplest explanation is \/t + hâːos\/. We already see \/t\/ prefixed to a lot of Greek pronouns and adverbs, as a demonstrative: ὅτε \"when\" \u0026gt; τότε \"then\", οἷος \"of which sort\" \u0026gt; τοῖος \"of that sort\", etc.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\/t\/ does get prefixed to ἕως, as a correlative counterpart to it: Attic τέως \"in the meantime; for a while; (rarely) until\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe prefix also turns up in other dialects: Epic τείως (from εἵως), though the reading τῆος (from ἧος) has been metrically reconstructed in Homer. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EHesychius records Cretan τάως \/táɔːs\/ as meaning τέως. Cretan is an Archaic Doric dialect, and we would expect a proto-Doric \/t + hâːos\/ \u0026gt; *\/tâːos\/; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.04.0019%3Asmythp%3D40\"\u003EKühner-Blass reports that\u003C\/a\u003E Nauck thought the original Cretan form was indeed τᾶος, and somewhere along the line the word was respelled to match the ending of Attic τέως.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo we have an answer, right? θᾶς is derived from \/t + hâːos\/, like τέως is.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe problem is, none of the correlatives have \/tʰ\/ in them: the Doric is τάως, not *θάως, just as ὅτε goes to τότε, not *θότε. And even if correlatives did have \/tʰ\/, the last dialect you'd expect to find an initial breathing is Alcaeus' Aeolic, which systematically dropped its initial rough breathing (psilotic): remember that \"until\" in Aeolic is ἆς \/âːs\/, not ἇς \/hâːs\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo the derivation doesn't make sense for Aeolic, or indeed for proto-Greek; \"for a while\" should have been *τᾶς, not θᾶς. Because of the final two letters and the circumflex, I'm reasonably sure θᾶς is somewhow related to ἆς = ἕως, and I wouldn't be flabbergasted if the θ- turns out to have been a mistake. (The papyri in Oxyrhynchus weren't personally penned by Alcaeus: they reflect a standard later edition, which we guess introduced elements from the later Aeolic of Asia Minor, and could have distorted the language in other ways.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf it does turn out to be something completely different, well, that will be a relief...\u003Cbr \/\u003E \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/7769412134652016876\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/aeolic-until.html#comment-form","title":"32 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/7769412134652016876"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/7769412134652016876"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/aeolic-until.html","title":"Aeolic θᾶς \"until\""}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"32"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-2474319439395894428"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-16T14:10:00.003+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-31T17:34:53.014+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Byzantine Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Early Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"lexicography"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Dictionary Updates: Kriaras, Vol. XVII; Trapp, Fasc. VII"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"New volumes of Kriaras' and Trapp's dictionaries of Greek are out. Kriaras covers  Vernacular Early Modern Greek, and Trapp covers (mostly learnèd) Late Mediaeval Greek, with some overlap. For background on these dictionaries—and on the coverages of the dictionaries of Greek in general—see my earlier post on \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2009\/04\/dictionary-coverage-of-greek.html\"\u003EDictionary coverage of Greek\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/epub.oeaw.ac.at\/6904-8\"\u003ETrapp's Dictionary, Fascicle 7 of 8\u003C\/a\u003E, runs from right after προσπελαγίζω to the end of sigma. Currently it is available only in electronic form, from the Austrian Academy of Sciences Press; a print edition is expected in a month or so. As the linked blurb notes, Trapp has not ruled vernacular texts out of scope (and is more inclusive of non-literary texts than Kriaras); it is addressing the delay in the completion of Kriaras by using already published word lists of Early Modern Greek, to give indicative coverage. Trapp is also including words from later papyri; while its brief is ostensively late mediaeval, it does look backwards as well, given the gaps in lexicography.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/50785726@N05\/5576408116\/\" title=\"2011-03-31 by opoudjis, on Flickr\"\u003E\u003Cimg src=\"http:\/\/farm6.static.flickr.com\/5052\/5576408116_5c8b7f5411.jpg\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" alt=\"2011-03-31\"\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.greek-language.gr\/greekLang\/portal\/blog\/archive\/2011\/03\/04\/3287.html\"\u003EKriaras' Dictionary, Vol. 17 of an expected (20?)\u003C\/a\u003E covers πνεύσις through προβίβασις. The volume is already available in online bookstores—I've just ordered it from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.patakis.gr\/viewshopproduct.aspx?id=594777\"\u003EPatakis\u003C\/a\u003E. The announcement linked from the Greek Language Gateway (Πύλη για την ελληνική γλώσσα) notes that the volume will be made available online by them as well, as part of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.greek-language.gr\/greekLang\/medieval_greek\/em_kriaras\/index.html\"\u003EEmmanuel Kriaras' Collected Works\u003C\/a\u003E. Vol 17 isn't up, but \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.greek-language.gr\/greekLang\/medieval_greek\/em_kriaras\/bibliography.html?g=1\"\u003Ethe others are\u003C\/a\u003E, as scans (in the kind of page-by-page interface that makes me relieved to have paper copies :-) ). The abridged dictionary, covering the first 14 volumes, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictionaries\/dictonline\/DictOnLineKri.htm\"\u003Eis also online\u003C\/a\u003E in a searchable interface, through the Electronic Node (Ηλεκτρονικός Κόμβος) site—both from the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.greeklanguage.gr\/\"\u003ECentre for the Greek Language\u003C\/a\u003E."},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/2474319439395894428\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/dictionary-updates-kriaras-vol-xvii.html#comment-form","title":"14 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2474319439395894428"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2474319439395894428"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/dictionary-updates-kriaras-vol-xvii.html","title":"Dictionary Updates: Kriaras, Vol. XVII; Trapp, Fasc. VII"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"http:\/\/farm6.static.flickr.com\/5052\/5576408116_5c8b7f5411_t.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"14"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-6354330730261028104"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-16T03:06:00.004+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2017-02-26T15:01:46.337+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"orthography"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Sorting of breathings and accents in Unicode"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Microsoft's implementation of Unicode, as a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/blogs.msdn.com\/b\/michkap\/archive\/2011\/03\/01\/10134580.aspx\"\u003Erecent post by Michael Kaplan points out\u003C\/a\u003E, sorts ἒ and ἕ as the same character. In fact, it sorts identically any vowel with acute and rough breathing, and the same vowel with grave and smooth breathing. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhy is it so? Allow me to get my geek on.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EYou may know that, a few years back (in fact, eight), I wrote a set of pages on \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.opoudjis.net\/unicode\"\u003EGreek Unicode Issues\u003C\/a\u003E; this purports to go through various issues that arise in representing Greek in Unicode, although it mostly ends up restating histories of the Greek script.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOne of the pages tucked away at the very end is about \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.opoudjis.net\/unicode\/unicode_ordering.html\"\u003Ehow Unicode sorts Greek\u003C\/a\u003E. It goes through the default algorithm for Unicode sorting Greek, which is laid out in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.unicode.org\/reports\/tr10\/\"\u003EUnicode Technical Standard #10 (the Unicode Collation Algorithm)\u003C\/a\u003E, in conjunction with the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.unicode.org\/Public\/UCA\/latest\/allkeys.txt\"\u003EDefault Unicode Collation Element Table (DUCET)\u003C\/a\u003E, the default table of how Unicode characters are to be ordered. (That's the raw data of DUCET; there is also a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.unicode.org\/charts\/uca\/chart_Greek.html\"\u003Etable rendering of what characters in Greek\u003C\/a\u003E it brings together.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EUnicode broadcasts loud and clear that this is only a default algorithm; it is not customised to the preferences of particular languages, which are quite inconsistent between each other within the Latin script, and it does not mandate that implementations used the DUCET table; just that whatever table the implementation uses, that table should differentiate between characters with at least three different weightings. In Unicode's DUCET, Greek characters are differentiated by letter (Level 1), diacritic (Level 2), and case (Level 3).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMicrosoft's implementation uses its own Collation Table, which is not DUCET. The Microsoft documentation of their sorting algorithm is in somewhat prolix pseudocode (start at \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/207.46.16.248\/en-us\/library\/cc248979(PROT.10).aspx\"\u003E§3.1.5.2 Comparing UTF-16 Strings by Using Sort Keys\u003C\/a\u003E  within the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/207.46.16.248\/en-us\/library\/cc248954(PROT.10).aspx\"\u003EWindows Protocols Unicode Reference\u003C\/a\u003E), but it is following the same algorithm as Unicode specifies, though without as many special cases. (On the other hand, if you read through the pseudocode, you'll see Microsoft are kept plenty busy with special cases for Hungarian and Korean.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut the table of values Microsoft uses is different to DUCET, and that leads to the conflation of ἒ and ἕ.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELet's start with what DUCET gives you.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eἒ and ἕ are single characters, but Unicode underlyingly treats them as a combination of three characters—the letter, the breathing, and the accent; and when it comes to sorting them, it normalises them, breaking them down to those three characters—or else it sorts them as if it has already broken them down. That means that ἒ and ἕ  are sorted as strings containing three characters: epsilon.smooth.grave, and epsilon.rough.acute. So any differentiation between the two will only come when it hits the second character, the breathing:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe DUCET entry for ἒ and ἕ  are:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ccode\u003E1F12  ; [.18E1.0020.0002.03B5][.0000.0022.0002.0313][.0000.0035.0002.0300] # GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI AND VARIA; QQCM\u003C\/code\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ccode\u003E1F15  ; [.18E1.0020.0002.03B5][.0000.002A.0002.0314][.0000.0032.0002.0301] # GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH DASIA AND OXIA; QQCM\u003C\/code\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo ἒ is Unicode character 0x1F12 in hexadecimal. Its sort value is the sort value of \"epsilon.smooth.grave\". The sort value of epsilon is the first set of four numbers: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E18E1 for the letter\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E0020 for the diacritics\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E0002 for the case\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E03B5 (the Unicode code for lower case epsilon) as a fallback value\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBy contrast, capital epsilon has [.18E1.0020.0008.0395]: it is the same letter as lowercase epsilon, with the same lack of diacritics, but has a different case. Because the case number is higher for capital than lowercase, DUCET will sort capital letters after lowercase.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf we want to distinguish ἒ and ἕ  in sorting, the fact that they're both epsilons means we need to keep going. We then come to their breathings; for  ἒ, the smooth breathing has the second set of four numbers:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E0000 means a smooth breathing is not a letter, so you're going to have to use the next value (the diacritic) to differentiate it from any other character: if you're just comparing letters, you ignore the breathing.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E0022 is the diacritic weight for smooth breathing. 002A is the diacritic weight for rough breathing, so smooth breathings will sort before rough.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E0002 is the case of the smooth breathing, which is taken as the default case, lowercase\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E0313 (the Unicode code for smooth breathing) is once again there as a fallback value.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf we were dealing with ἔ and ἕ, with the same breathing, we would then go to the third set of four numbers, which differentiates the characters by accent. The diacritic weight for acute in DUCET is 32, and for grave is 35; so acute will sort before grave—but smooth grave will sort before rough acute, because breathing takes priority in the canonical ordering of diacritics.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's DUCET. Microsoft have a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.microsoft.com\/downloads\/en\/details.aspx?FamilyID=5fdc09fb-afec-4c2a-9394-6d046841eace\u0026displaylang=en\"\u003Erather simpler collation table\u003C\/a\u003E, which is their right. Until Windows Server 2008, the precomposed Unicode characters, such as 0x1F12, did not have an entry in the collation table: if software wanted to do any sorting of polytonic, it had to break the characters apart into their component diacritics.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWith Windows Server, it introduced  entries for the precomposed Greek characters. But the Microsoft table does not break down the sorting weight for accented character into two or three different weights, like DUCET does. Microsoft chooses, for obvious reasons of efficiency, to assign a single diacritic weight to the whole character.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo long as you are only dealing with one diacritic on one character, that's an obvious thing to do. The DUCET for \u0026lt;é\u0026gt; is \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ccode\u003E00E9  ; [.15FF.0020.0002.0065][.0000.0032.0002.0301] # LATIN SMALL LETTER E WITH ACUTE; QQCM\u003C\/code\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut the first group of four numbers (the \u0026lt;e\u0026gt;) has no real diacritic weight, and the second group of four numbers (the \u0026lt;´\u0026gt;) has no letter weight. If you just give the diacritic weighting of an acute, 0032, to the \u0026lt;e\u0026gt; letter, you'll get a single weighting, that makes perfect sense, and which gives the right sort results: [.15FF.\u003Cb\u003E0032\u003C\/b\u003E.0002.00E9]. And you don't have to go through two comparisons every time you sort an accented character.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's so long as you have one diacritic on a character, which almost all non-specialist scripts do.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI think you can see where this is going.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EPolytonic Greek and Vietnamese are the only common scripts I can think of to use two and three diacritics on a letter routinely. That means that Microsoft are having to add two or three diacritic weightings, not just one, on their polytonic Greek characters. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMicrosoft's diacritic weightings that Michael Kaplan mentions in his post are not DUCET's, and there's no expectation that they need to be DUCET's. They are:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ELetter without diacritic: 2\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EGrave: 13\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAcute: 12\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESmooth breathing: 70\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ERough breathing: 71\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo epsilon with a smooth breathing has a diacritic weight of 2+70 = 72, and epsilon with an acute has a diacritic weight of 2+12=14.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eἒ has a diacritic weight of 2+13+70=85, and ἕ has a diacritic weight of 2+12+71=85.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOops. And this is an accident waiting to happen, if you conflate diacritic weights in a script that puts more than one diacritic on a letter. This doesn't routinely happen outside Vietnamese and Polytonic Greek, but there it is. And because it's a fact about diacritic weights, it also applies to: ἂ ἅ, ἢ ἥ, ἲ ἵ, ὂ ὅ, ὒ ὕ, ὢ ὥ, ᾂ ᾅ, ᾒ ᾕ, ᾢ ᾥ, \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo: does it matter? Microsoft has been lucky: it doesn't really.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's not that the characters being conflated are pretty similar: they're not. The distinction between grave and acute is minimal: most of the time, the grave is a positional variant of the acute, and the grave was dropped in Late modern polytonic orthography. That's why Michael thought these characters come from different spelling traditions. But that makes ἒ a spelling variant of ἔ, not of ἕ: the distinction between smooth and rough breathings is still the main point of having polytonic accentuation at all, and there are many more minimal pairs differentiated by breathing than by acute vs circumflex.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe reason it doesn't matter though is that the default scenario for sorting words is in a word list (such as a lexicon); and in a word list, graves will be normalised into acutes. The conflation of ἒ and ἕ won't normally matter, because if you're sorting a word list, there shouldn't be any ἒ there to begin with.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn addition, it's rare that two words with the same letters, one of which has acute and rough, the other grave and smooth, would in fact be different words. The words would need to be monosyllabic, since they can have both acute and grave on the same sequence of characters. This won't happen never: ἢ \"or\" vs ἥ \"relative pronoun (fem.sg.nom)\" is the cleanest I can think of, ἢν \"she was\" vs ἥν \"relative pronoun (fem.sg.acc)\" is also good, ἒ \"eh!\" vs ἕ \"him (Homeric)\" less so. But it's pretty marginal.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ECan this still lead to trouble in a word list? In theory yes, because an erstwhile lexicographic tradition distinguishes between enclitic and accented words (such as τίς \"who?\" vs τις \"someone\"), not by leaving the enclitic word unaccented, but giving the enclitic word a grave. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Strong's_Concordance\"\u003EStrong's concordance\u003C\/a\u003E of Biblical Greek words, for example, has \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/studybible.info\/strongs\/G5101\"\u003Eτίς\u003C\/a\u003E distinguished from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/studybible.info\/strongs\/G5100\"\u003Eτὶς\u003C\/a\u003E (though the online renderings don't always preserve the grave). This uses the original meaning of the grave, to mark unaccented syllables, which were lower pitched—like an acute was on a final syllable without a following intonation break, as the grave came to indicate exclusively.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's in theory; in practice, no such enclitics will begin with one of our vowels that I can think of. So word lists using pre-20th century lexicographic conventions for accent are also safe.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's Microsoft. The OSX Finder \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/developer.apple.com\/library\/mac\/#documentation\/MacOSX\/Conceptual\/BPFileSystem\/Articles\/SortingRules.html\"\u003Eexplicitly uses DUCET\u003C\/a\u003E (but for being case insensitive), so it does not have this issue with acute-rough vs grave-smooth:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/50785726@N05\/5529618126\/\" title=\"he by opoudjis, on Flickr\"\u003E\u003Cimg src=\"http:\/\/farm6.static.flickr.com\/5131\/5529618126_bcabf52194.jpg\" width=\"500\" height=\"304\" alt=\"he\" \/\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOn the other hand, Darwin, the UNIX within OSX, seems to sort accents before breathings, and graves before acutes; so it generates the sort order ἒ ἓ ἔ ἕ. That too is wrong, but meh. I couldn't find documentation of Darwin's sort order online,  nor of BSD, from which Darwin is derived. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm guessing it's happened because of the ordering of the Unicode code charts—the epsilons I've just listed are codepoints 0x1F12 0x1F13 0x1F14 0x1F15, because graves are consisently before acutes in the numerical coding of Unicode; but the numerical coding is supposed to be  ignored in sorting, in favour of an explicit (and preferably accurate) table...\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/6354330730261028104\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/sorting-of-breathings-and-accents-in.html#comment-form","title":"7 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/6354330730261028104"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/6354330730261028104"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/sorting-of-breathings-and-accents-in.html","title":"Sorting of breathings and accents in Unicode"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"http:\/\/farm6.static.flickr.com\/5131\/5529618126_bcabf52194_t.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"7"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-2515946596185538709"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-12T21:06:00.006+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-13T14:32:38.346+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"morphology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"sociolinguistics"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"The declension of -ευς: Ionic forward to Modern Greek"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"In the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/declension-of-homeric-back-to-proto.html\"\u003Elast (but one) post\u003C\/a\u003E, we worked out a reconstruction of the -ευς declension, to the point that we could explain the Homeric inflections. Where we wanted to get to was not Homer, but Aristophanes' Attic. But once we have the proto-forms in place, we can use sound change rules and analogy to explain how forms have changed, so that we can make sense of why Attic looked the way it did. After all, being able to account for later forms is the point of reconstruction.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm going to start by putting up those Homeric endings again; we'll be treating Homer, rather than proto-Greek as a starting point—because the dialects we're working with will allow that. (Epic Greek is a mishmash of a lot of dialects, but its core is Ionic; and Attic is a deviant sibling of Ionic.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eεύς eús\u003Ctd\u003Eῆε ɛ̂ːɛ\u003Ctd\u003Eῆες ɛ̂ːes\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eῆος ɛ̂ːos\u003Ctd\u003Eήοιν ɛ́ːoin\u003Ctd\u003Eήων ɛ́ːɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003Eῆι ɛ̂ːi\u003Ctd\u003Eήοιν ɛ́ːoin\u003Ctd\u003Eεῦσι eûsi\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Eῆα ɛ̂ːa\u003Ctd\u003Eῆε ɛ̂ːɛ\u003Ctd\u003Eήᾱς ɛ́ːaːs\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eεῦ eû\u003Ctd\u003Eῆε ɛ̂ːɛ\u003Ctd\u003Eῆες ɛ̂ːes\u003C\/table\u003ENo small number of you will be quite familiar with Attic (or with Koine, or with Modern Greek, whose lineage is more or less from Attic). Some of those endings wouldn't fit in Attic at all. Why?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EFor one thing, the Homeric table has a whole lot of vowels next to other vowels. That's hiatus: Greek is normally not comfortable with hiatus, and proto-Greek vowel pairs usually merge (\"contract\") to a new vowel or diphthong. In fact, hiatus in Classical Greek is usually a sign that there used to be a digamma there that has dropped off; while the \/w\/ was there, it prevented contraction. That's exactly what has happened with these endings: *-ɛːwos \u0026gt; -ɛːos. But Greek kept contracting vowels after Homer, and we will see some of that on the way to Attic.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe other thing that may strike you as odd is that it's an eta preceding another vowel. Some vowel pairs do make it into Attic: contraction is not universal. But pairs like ηε, ηο, ηα don't show up in words of Attic: they scream out Homer. That suggests that something has happened to eta in pairs in particular, since that eta has not survived into Attic.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm going to start with the second observation. There is a rule that long vowels are shortened before another vowel (if they survive contraction). This doesn't happen in all dialects, and it doesn't happen to all vowels; but it does happen in Attic and Ionic with η; for example, Homeric ἠώς \/ɛːɔ́ːs\/ corresponds to Attic ἔως \/éɔːs\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe can use that rule, on its own, to explain what has happened in Ionic. It's not the only possible explanation, but it will serve for this exposition:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eeús\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eêːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eéos\u003Ctd\u003Eéɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eêː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eeûsi\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Eéa\u003Ctd\u003Eéaːs\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eeû\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eêːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe can explain this table almost entirely by shorting the Homeric \/ɛː\/ systematically, whenever it occurs in front of another vowel (which, for this declension, is always). There are a couple of peculiarities:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe table has a long e, \/êːs\/, where we would expect two short e's, \/ees\/. That's a new contraction, and I don't think anyone should be surprised at that contraction. The suffix has a circumflex on the final syllable, which is usually a giveaway that contraction has happened.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe table also has a long e in the dative singular, \/êː\/, where we would expect \/éi\/. That's also a contraction (as the circumflex tells you), and the contraction shouldn't be a surprise either. In fact, the shortened \/e\/ occasionally turns up in this declension in Homer already, which as a result does feature the expected \/éi\/ -έϊ.\u003C\/uL\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe contraction of \/ei\/ to \/eː\/ was early: early enough, that \u0026lt;ei\u0026gt; is actually how you write \/eː\/ in Ancient Greek: ει. Because  \/ei\/ turned into \/eː\/, you need historical linguistics, or pre-Classical texts, to tell whether an instance of ει reflects an earlier \/ei\/ (\"genuine diphthong\"), or started out as \/eː\/ (\"spurious diphthong\").\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo we've been able to explain Ionic reasonably easily as well. There's some features that the textbooks are sweeping under the carpet to simplify things, and make the dialects look purer than they are. For instance, the grammars don't highlight the fact that you'll occasionally see short epsilon in Homer; they're describing internally consistent dialect tables, that are abstracted from the messier dialect mixes of texts. But this is a clean table.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe table for Attic is not as clean, which is why you have to go via the cleaner Homeric and Ionic tables to make sense of it:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eeús\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eɛ̂ː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eɛ̂ːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eéɔːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eéoin\u003Ctd\u003Eéɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003Eêː\u003Ctd\u003Eéoin\u003Ctd\u003Eeûsi\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eéaː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eɛ̂ː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eéaːs\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eeû\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eɛ̂ː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eɛ̂ːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt looks like the Ionic table, but it's not quite the same. In fact, while the Ionic table is explained by a systematic shortening of \/ɛː\/, the Attic table shows that the shorting was not systematic.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELet's start with the genitive singular, which is \/éɔːs\/ -έως, where Epic had \/ɛ̂ːos\/ -ῆος and Ionic had \/éos\/ -έος. That -εως suffix turns up as a genitive elsewhere in Attic, with both penult and antepenult stress; so Attic λύσις, λύσεως, corresponding to Ionic λύσις, λύσιος. But there's something very wrong about the accent of λύσεως \/lýseɔːs\/. Greek is not supposed to allow stress on the antepenult if the ultima is long (the three-mora rule): ἄνθρωπος \/án.tʰrɔː.pos\/, ἀνθρώπου \/an.tʰrɔ́.poː\/. λύσεως ends in a long syllable; but it is accented on the antepenult.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo λύσεως is accented as if it ends in a short \/o\/, and it is a case which in proto-Greek (and other dialects) ends in a short \/o\/. The conclusion is that genitive \/eɔːs\/ comes from the Old Ionic \/ɛːos\/, and (in those other declensions where it is stressed on the antepenult) is still accented like the Old Ionic \/ɛːos\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe just saw that Ionic shortened \/ɛːos\/ to \/eos\/. Attic is also shortening \/ɛː\/ in the suffix—but it seems to be lengthening the following \/o\/, in compensation. This is called \u003Ci\u003Equantitative metathesis\u003C\/i\u003E: the longness of the vowel (\"quantity\") is being swapped (\"metathesis\") from the first vowel to the second; and Attic does it routinely for \/ɛː\/ before \/o\/. In fact, it does so regularly enough, that it gave rise to a new flavour of the second declension:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EProto-Greek *λᾱός *\/laːós\/, Doric λᾱός \/laːós\/, Epic λᾱός \/laːós\/, Ionic ληός \/lɛːós\/, \u003Cb\u003EAttic λεώς \/leɔ́ːs\/\u003C\/b\u003E, Koine λᾱός \/laːós\/, Modern λαός \/laˈos\/\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EProto-Greek *νᾱός *\/naːós\/, Doric νᾱός \/naːós\/, Epic νηός \/nɛːós\/, Ionic νηός \/nɛːós\/, \u003Cb\u003EAttic νεώς \/neɔ́ːs\/\u003C\/b\u003E, Koine νᾱός \/naːós\/, Modern ναός \/naˈos\/\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo second-declension nouns, which in Greek end in a short \/o\/, could end in Attic in a long \/ɔː\/—provided there was \u003Cspan style=\"text-decoration:line-through\"\u003Ecompensatory lengthening\u003C\/span\u003E quantitative metathesis from a preceding \/ɛː\/. This was an oddity specific to Attic; and although Koine normally went along with Attic, this was an oddity that Koine smoothed over.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"text-decoration:line-through\"\u003ECompensatory lengthening\u003C\/span\u003EQuantitative metathesis means that Attic didn't just shorten all \/ɛː\/, like Ionic did. It lengthened the following syllables as well, where it could. If we do quantitative \u003Cspan style=\"text-decoration:line-through\"\u003Elengthening\u003C\/span\u003E metathesis to the Homeric table, we end up with the following:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eeús\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɛː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɛːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eéɔːs\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɔːin\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eéɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éiː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɔːin\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eeûsi\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Eéaː\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɛː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eéaːs\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eeû\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɛː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɛːs\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's close to the actual Attic table. If we do some contractions, it becomes even closer. Attic liked to contract; and even if there used to be a digamma there, Attic would contract two e's together if it caught them. Remember that the aorist *ἔϝεργον \/éwerɡon\/ became ἔεργον \/éerɡon\/ in Epic, but εἶργον \/êːrɡon\/ in Attic—which could not stand two \/e\/ in a row. Attic also contracted \/eɛː\/ to \/ɛː\/; for example, the subjunctives λύ-ῃς, λύ-ητε \/lý-ɛːis, lý-ɛːte\/ correspond to the subjunctives *ποιέ-ῃς, *ποιέ-ητε \/poié-ɛːis, poié-ɛːte\/, which in Attic contract to ποιῇς, ποιῆτε \/poiɛ̂ːs, poiɛ̂ːte\/. (And remember: a circumflex on the final syllable points to contraction.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf we contract \/eɛː\/ to \/ɛː\/, our mapping to Attic is pretty much done:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eeús\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ːs\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eéɔːs\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɔːin\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eéɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éiː\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Cb\u003E*éɔːin\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eeûsi\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Eéaː\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː\u003Ctd\u003Eéaːs\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eeû\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ːs\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/openlibrary.org\/books\/OL16512520M\/Morphologie_historique_du_grec\"\u003EChantraine\u003C\/a\u003E in his historical morphology reports that inscriptions do contain -έης \/éɛːs\/ plurals at around 400 BC; but the default plural was contracted -ῆς \/ɛ̂ːs\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are two exceptions to deal with in the table; Chantraine  takes it upon himself to address both. The dative is not uncontracted *\/éiː\/ (έῑ), but contracted \/êː\/ (εῖ), just as in Ionic; its protoform (as with Ionic) is *\/ei\/ not *\/ɛːi\/. Chantraine says that the short \/e\/ of *\/ei\/ was an analogy from other cases (\u003Ci\u003Eeús, éɔːs, éaː\u003C\/i\u003E); maybe, but I can see \/éiː\/ contracting to \/eː\/ anyway, and there were plenty of \/eː\/ datives in other third declension nouns, to serve as an analogy.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe other exception is the dual genitive\/dative, which is not *έῳν \/éɔːin\/,  but έοιν \/éoin\/—again, as it would have been in Ionic, with no quantitative metathesis. The dual was already dying out in Attic, and was dead in Ionic; that's why I didn't give any Ionic duals above. So Attic can't have borrowed έοιν from Ionic. Chantraine's take on it is cheeky, with the kind of cheekiness that neogrammarians can display: if the manuscripts have a dual that doesn't match the predictions of historical linguistics, then the manuscripts must be wrong. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn particular, Chantraine latches on to a genitive plural βασιλέων in Aescyhlus (Suppliants 327), which refers to two kings: this might have been a correction of the original dual βασιλέῳν. And the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/openlibrary.org\/books\/OL21169853M\/Aeschyli_septem_quae_supersunt_tragoedias\"\u003E1972 Page edition\u003C\/a\u003E does indeed present βασιλέωιν in this text: πῶς οὖν τελευτᾶι βασιλέωιν νείκη τάδε; \"So how did this strife between kings end up?\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAgain, maybe; but again, έοιν duals turn up elsewhere in Attic, and could have served as a pattern of analogy to get rid of the idiosyncratic (and rare) dual. The same ending shows up in the dual for \"ships\": proto-Greek *νᾱοῖν \/naːoîn\/, Homeric *νηοῖν \/nɛːoîn\/ should have generated Attic *νεῷν \/neɔ̂ːin\/, but instead Thucydides has νεοῖν \/neoîn\/—bringing it back in line with all the other duals ending in \/oin\/. And if speakers of Attic didn't do the analogy, then subsequent scribes would: \"A dual in -έῳν? That doesn't look right.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(Analogy did not get rid of  -εως, because it was just as idiosyncratic, but it was also really really common: speakers were just too used to it. In fact, even when Koine did back away from -εως where it could—λύσις λύσιος instead of λύσις λύσεως, ναός instead of νεώς; but it did not back away from βασιλέως. Soon enough,  βασιλέως was pronounced identically to the more normal Ionic βασιλέος, anyway.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo it looks like Ionic shortened the -η- consistently, while Attic shortened it with quantitative metathesis, lengthening the following vowel. This resulted in several strange endings, and some of them stuck (notably -έως), while for others, the lengthened final vowel went away, and went back to looking like Ionic (-εῖ, έοιν). In a few cases, the metathesis wouldn't make a difference: ῆες and έης both contract to ῆς.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow, all that explains why Acharnians would be written Ἀχαρνῆς: *Ἀχαρνῆϝες \u0026gt; Ἀχαρνῆες \u0026gt; Ἀχαρνέης \u0026gt; Ἀχαρνῆς, \u003Ci\u003E*akʰarnɛ̂ːwes \u0026gt; akʰarnɛ̂ːes \u0026gt; *akʰarnéɛːs \u0026gt; akʰarnɛ̂ːs\u003C\/i\u003E. But why would Sarantakos have used the Ionic Ἀχαρνεῖς \/akʰarnêːs\/ instead?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are a couple of causes to go through. The immediate cause is that Athenians also started using the Ionic Ἀχαρνεῖς, but not at the time of Aristophanes. The \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/The_Acharnians\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EAcharnians\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E were written in 425 BC. With the 404 BC spelling reform, Attic acquired the letter Η from Ionic, and started differentiating \/eː, e, ɛː\/, as the Ionic alphabet did. At that time, the plural was written as -ης. But between 350 BC and 325 BC, the plural changed to being written as -εις, \/êːs\/ instead. Which happens to be the Ionic plural, derived from *\/ées\/, not \/ɛːes\/ \u0026gt; \/eɛːs\/. Later on, this -εις nominative was copied to the accusative as well—by analogy with other third declension nouns (nom. sg. πόλις, ἡδύς, nom. pl. and acc. pl. πόλεις, ἡδεῖς).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhy would the switch have happened? \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/New-Comparative-Grammar-Greek-Latin\/dp\/0195083458\"\u003ESihler\u003C\/a\u003E thinks that the first -e- in *\/ées\/ came in by analogy with the -e- in the other plural cases, \/éɔːn, éaːs\/. But that means Sihler thinks \/ɛ̂ːes\/ changed to *\/ées\/; and we don't think it did: we think it had already changed to \/éɛːs\/ by quantitative metathesis. So that explanation doesn't make sense.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EChantraine takes a broader view of what would have happened: inscriptions around 400 BC had -εης \/eɛːs\/, Attic poets used -έες \/ées\/—\"possibly an Ionicism\"; and then \/ées\/ contracted into \/êːs\/. So while Chantraine isn't outright claiming it, he is allowing that  \/êːs\/ is indeed a borrowing from Ionic.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis means that Aristophanes would have written Acharnians as Ἀχαρνῆς, but Athenians a century later were pronouncing and writing it as Ἀχαρνεῖς. I have no idea what the earliest manuscripts  of Aristophanes have it as; I can easily see people, a century on, respelling the Acharnians they way they would now pronounce it, because they did not know yet that every vowel of Aristophanes was sacred. Even if the entire manuscript tradition of Aristophanes had the Ἀχαρνεῖς spelling, modern editors are doing their job in trying to work out how Aristophanes would originally have spelled it, and would see it as in their rights to restore the spelling as Ἀχαρνῆς.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAt any rate, the Hellenistic grammarians certainly knew about -ῆς as a spelling specific to the Athenians; so people two or three centuries on were certainly aware what would have been the original spelling. Herodian in ii AD spells out our reconstruction implicitly:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003ENouns ending in -εις are recessively accented, if their singular is recessively accented: Δημοσθένης, Δημοσθένεις. But if the singular has an acute or circumflex on the ultima, they take the circumflex: εὐγενής εὐγενεῖς, Ἡρακλῆς Ἡρακλεῖς. But Athenians contract these with an η, and they similarly put a circumflex on that: ἱππῆς from ἱππέες, βασιλέες becomes βασιλῆς. (De prosodia catholica p. 424 Lentz)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn ix AD, George Choeroboscus spells it out explicitly, if mistakenly:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003ERarely, in the dual, εε are contracted into the diphthong ει, as in ταρίχεε ταρίχει, πόλεε πόλει [...] and in the plural they are contracted into η, as in ἱππέες ἱππῆς and βασιλέες βασιλῆς. These are Attic, and the Attic-speakers do this only with ευς nouns, I mean contracting εε into η in the nominative plural.  (Prolegomena et scholia in Theodosii Alexandrini canones isagogicos de flexione nominum, p. 182)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat is, Choeroboscus doesn't know about *έης, and thinks the Attic ending -ῆς is an exception to the normal contraction of \/ee\/ to ει \/eː\/. (He repeats elsewhere that outside of Attic, the plural is of ἱππεύς βασιλεύς is ἱππεῖς βασιλεῖς.) He goes on to offer two theories why this exception has happened; another's, that it's because of the following \/s\/; and his own, that first and second declension nominative plurals also end in ι (φίλοι, κοχλίαι).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo that's why there could be a question about whether to write Acharnians as Ἀχαρνῆς or Ἀχαρνεῖς. The -ῆς ending was identified as peculiarly Old Attic, and it did not make it into Koine: the plural there is the Ionic and New Attic -εῖς.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EClassicists have no compunction spelling it the Old Attic way. Puristic was supposed to revive the glories of Ancient Greek (which predate New Attic); you'd have thought they would have tried to get all Greekdom speaking of βασιλῆς. Yet you'll never see βασιλῆς written in Puristic, only βασιλεῖς. In fact, Modern Greeks will only be familiar with the βασιλῆς spelling if they paid attention in Ancient Greek class (and sometimes, not even then: I have been asked whether one instance was a spelling mistake).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe reason for that is, the mission of Puristic was not defined positively, as restoring Attic, but negatively, as cleansing Modern Greek of foreign elements and corruption. The cleansing of foreign elements in vocabulary was pretty successful; but the cleansing of corruption could mean anything, depending on how far back you consider corruption to have set in. The result was that Puristic morphology became pretty eclectic and inconsistent, because different writers decided on different levels of corruption to deign to put up with; but outside a few decades of insanity in the end of the 19th century, Puristic gave up on trying to revive Ancient Greek outright. What it did seek to do consistently was use anything but what the contemporary vernacular was using.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo sometimes Puristic went back to Early Modern Greek (futures in θέλω + Infinitive); but often, Puristic would go back to Koine, as opposed to going all the way back to Attic. Puristic displaced the Arabic \u003Ci\u003Etargumān\u003C\/i\u003E \u0026gt; δραγουμάνος \"interpreter\", and replaced it with the Byzantine διερμηνεύς (instead of the Koine διερμηνευτής). And it never used the Attic plural *διερμηνῆς: Puristic used the same plural as the Byzantines would have used, the Koine διερμηνεῖς.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EModern Greek also uses διερμηνεῖς, because of Puristic; but that is not the vernacular development of -ευς nouns (which διερμηνεῖς is not). The vernacular switched all its third declension nouns to first declension in the singular, so βασιλεύς \/basileús\/ became βασιλέας \/vasiˈleas\/. Initially, the vernacular left the nominative plural of the third declension alone, so the plural would have remained  βασιλεῖς \/vasiˈlis\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut avoidance of hiatus made βασιλέας into βασιλιάς \/vasiˈljas\/, a first declension noun accented on the final syllable. And the vernacular gave such oxytone first declension nouns a plural in -άδες: βασιλιάς βασιλιάδες \/vasiˈljas vasiˈljaðes\/, μαθητής μαθητάδες \/maθiˈtis maθiˈtaðes\/. Modern Greek has rolled that plural back for -ης nouns, under indirect Puristic influence, but βασιλιάδες is still the Modern plural.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EWhy is -άδες a plural? Well, in Koine, -ᾶς became a widespread agent suffix: ζυτᾶς κασσιτερᾶς κλειδᾶς \"brewer, tinker, locksmith\". The suffix still exists in Modern Greek: ψωμάς, κομπιουτεράς, Ζητάς \"breadmaker, computer geek, Zeta Force guy (police motorcyclist)\". This meant that there were suddenly a lot of first declension \/-as\/ nouns accented in Greek on the ultima; in Attic they had been few and obscure, and even fewer had a plural. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut Greek had a lot of  third declension nouns ending in accented \/-as\/, since that was  a widespread feminine suffix: Κρονιάς, κυκλάς, λαμπάς, ναϊάς \"Saturnalia, encircling, torch, naiad\". And its plural, -άδες, was much less odd-looking than the correct, contracted first declension plural -αῖ would have been. So the plural of torches, λαμπάδες, was carried across to these new agent nouns, κλειδᾶδες, and eventually to the normal first declension nouns, ending in -ής, μαθητάδες.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAs linguists have pointed out before me, the clash of Puristic and Vernacular Greek has meant that Modern Greek now has two ways of saying \"kings\": the kind of mess that was the natural legacy of diglossia. Colloquial Greek has βασιλιάς βασιλιάδες. Puristic had βασιλεύς βασιλεῖς; high register Modern Greek cleans up the singular to be first declension rather than third declension, but it goes back to Middle Greek to do so, with βασιλέας βασιλεῖς. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo if you want to show royalty more deference than is usual in contemporary Greece, you will use the pseudo-Puristic βασιλέας βασιλεῖς, instead of the colloquial βασιλιάς βασιλιάδες.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Markos_Vamvakaris\"\u003EMarkos Vamvakaris\u003C\/a\u003E managed to show deference to the king with the colloquial βασιλιάς (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%9A%CE%B1%CE%BB%CF%8E%CF%82_%CE%BC%CE%B1%CF%82_%CE%AE%CF%81%CE%B8%CE%B5%CF%82_%CE%92%CE%B1%CF%83%CE%B9%CE%BB%CE%B7%CE%AC\"\u003EΚαλώς μας ήρθες Βασιληά\u003C\/a\u003E, \"Welcome back, King!\"; but \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Greek_monarchy_referendum,_1935\"\u003E1935 was a very different time\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/koKk4BHDZoE\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm curious how many Greeks' heads are exploding right now, to hear Vamvakaris wrote a royalist paean in rebetiko (right after recording \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%9A%CE%AC%CE%BD%CF%84%CE%BF%CE%BD%CE%B5_%CE%A3%CF%84%CE%B1%CF%8D%CF%81%CE%BF_%CE%BA%CE%AC%CE%BD%CF%84%CE%BF%CE%BD%CE%B5\"\u003EΚάν' τονε Σταύρο Κάντονε\u003C\/a\u003E, \"Get that bong ready, Stavros\" no less, his catchy ditty about group drug intoxication.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E \u003Cbr \/\u003EI could go back and report what the historical grammars say about other Ancient dialects' declensions, but I've established what I needed to establish, and there are posts on Modern Greek compound accentuation to write.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/2515946596185538709\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/declension-of-ionic-forward-to-modern.html#comment-form","title":"19 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2515946596185538709"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2515946596185538709"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/declension-of-ionic-forward-to-modern.html","title":"The declension of -ευς: Ionic forward to Modern Greek"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/koKk4BHDZoE\/default.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"19"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-1991166839674258784"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-10T02:37:00.005+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-10T10:11:29.469+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Tsakonian"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Tsakonian documentary"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Thanks to my friend George Baloglou, I'm passing on this news item from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/news.in.gr\/culture\/article\/?aid=1231082658\"\u003Ein.gr\u003C\/a\u003E, on a new documentary on Tsakonian. Translations mine.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESee also the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/agroussanamou.gr\/\"\u003Edocumentary website\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/tdf.filmfestival.gr\/default.aspx?lang=el-GR\u0026loc=10\u0026page=943\u0026date=12\/3\/2011\u0026movie=691\"\u003EDocumentary description from the 13th Thessaloniki Documentary Festival site\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003EΑ γρούσσα νάμου \/ Massimo Pizzocaro, Elisavet Laloudaki\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cimg src=\"http:\/\/tdf.filmfestival.gr\/inst\/Festival\/gallery\/DocFestival\/13\/Films\/Our_Language.jpg\" align=\"right\"\/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the Eastern Peloponnese, in a remote region under the shadow of Mt Parnon, live the Tsakonians, a special tribe of \"stubborn\" Greeks. For the past three thousand years they have been speaking an ancient dialect, now the unique instance of a Doric language. They did not abandon it even after Koine had prevailed—the first superregional dialect that Modern Greek originates from. But what has withstood centuries has withered in the last four or five decades. The roads have opened up, tourism has arrived, the locals have left as immigrants or mariners, compulsory schooling has forced its students to forget their ancient language. And then the hour of truth arrives: when you lose your language, you lose an entire world. The case of the Tsakonians is not unique. According to UN statistics, almost half the languages of the planet are facing the same threat of extinction and oblivion. This is a movie on loss of identity—on what it means to know that your language will not be spoken a hundred years from now...\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cimg src=\"https:\/\/lh6.googleusercontent.com\/-n-0IC66FMZA\/TWn5kXTTmRI\/AAAAAAAAA08\/4TWqNA3ACEc\/s320\/%25CE%25A4%25CE%25A3%25CE%2591%25CE%259A%25CE%25A9%25CE%259D%25CE%2599%25CE%2591.jpg\" align=\"left\"\/\u003E Directed by: Massimo Pizzocaro, Elisavet Laloudaki\u003Cbr \/\u003EScript: Elisavet Laloudaki\u003Cbr \/\u003ECinematography: Massimo Pizzocaro\u003Cbr \/\u003EEditing: Massimo Pizzocaro\u003Cbr \/\u003ESound: Massimo Pizzocaro\u003Cbr \/\u003EProduced by: Elisavet Laloudaki\u003Cbr \/\u003EProduction: HappyAnt TV\u003Cbr \/\u003EFormat: HD Colour\u003Cbr \/\u003ECountry of Production: Greece\u003Cbr \/\u003EDuration: 52′\u003Cbr \/\u003EYear of Production: 2011\u003Cbr \/\u003EWorldwide Distribution: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/happyant.tv\"\u003EHappyAnt TV\u003C\/a\u003E, Elisavet Laloudaki, eli@happyant.tv\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EProgramme:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"text-decoration:line-through\"\u003EIntroduced by Stavros Tornes\u003C\/span\u003E Stavros Tornes Theatre: Sat 12 March 2011, 13:00\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"text-decoration:line-through\"\u003EIntroduced by Tonia Marketaki\u003C\/span\u003E Tonia Marketaki Theatre: Tue 15 March 2011, 15:00\u003Cbr \/\u003E[EDITED]\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd the news release on in.gr:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"font-style:italic;\"\u003E(9 Mar 2011, 16:29)\u003C\/span\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the 13th Documentary Festival:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003EThe Tsakonian dialect is at the center of a documentary to be shown in Thessalonica.\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cimg src=\"http:\/\/static.doldigital.net\/webstatic\/669A02987687BC3309641ED5EEC3BEBC.jpg\"\/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ci\u003EEleni and Evdokia, two generations of women who speak the Tsakonian dialect. In the region of Cynuria, the locals use Tsakonian for their everyday communication. Photo: Athens News Agency.\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETHESSALONICA.—The visitors of Leonidio in Arcadia are welcomed by a sign saying Καούρ εκάματε, which in the Tsakonian dialect means \"Welcome\". The directors Elisavet Laloudaki and Massimo Pizzocaro have attempted to record the Tsakonian dialect in the villages of Cynuria, in their documentary titled \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/tdf.filmfestival.gr\/default.aspx?lang=el-GR\u0026loc=10\u0026page=943\u0026date=12\/3\/2011\u0026movie=691\"\u003EΑ Γρούσσα Νάμου \"Our Language\"\u003C\/a\u003E, to be shown in the 13th \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/tdf.filmfestival.gr\/\"\u003EDocumentary Festival of Thessalonica\u003C\/a\u003E.  \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the region of Cynuria, under the shadow of Mt Parnon and facing the Myrtoan Sea, the locals use in their daily communication Tsakonian, the only surviving descendant of the Doric dialect.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe Tsakonian dialect is used in the villages of Melana, Tyros, Sapounakeika, Vaskina, Prastos, Sitena, Kastanitsa, and the capital of the South Cynuria Municipality, Leonidio.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are three different variants of the dialect: the idiom of south Cynuria (Tyros, Melana, etc.), the idiom of Kastanitsa and Sitena, and the idiom of the Propontis. The latter is no longer spoken by anybody.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EToday the speakers of the dialect are estimated to be 2000 to 4000.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe directors of the documentary use their camera to follow the inhabitants of Cynuria, old and young, using the Tsakonian dialect in their daily activities.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"We went into homes and cafés and heard moving stories. We realised that the language is dying, but unfortunately it is not dying on its own. Together with the language, an entire way of life is vanishing,\" director Elisavet Laloudaki told the Athens News Agency. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"Our aim was to try to convey the relaxed atmosphere prevalent in the region; to make a movie on a language that is disappearing, but which would be light and alive, like a cool breeze.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThrough their individual stories, the locals recount their relationship with Tsakonian, their memories of the former, more widespread use of the dialect, and their efforts to transmit their knowledge to their children.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAs the documentary directors observe in their description, \"Tsakonians belong to the old world. Their contacts with strangers, their opening up to tourism, immigration, modern life has only minimally altered the structures and rules of their closed society. In fact, it's not that they are seeking to be isolated; they are just displaying an obstinate refusal to accept these developments.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"Their  persisting with the Ancient Doric language when the whole world around them, even non-Greeks, were adopting Koine is only one aspect—perhaps the most extreme—of their reluctance to change. In this sternly delimited environment, boundaries are very important, almost sacred. In Tsakonia, a stranger does not easily go into a home—and that's final.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThough the environment is as they describe, the directors themselves managed to gain entry more readily, since Elisavet Laloudaki is originally from there.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"So at least in our case, the camera was not an intruder. Homes were open, talk was free, space was unconfined. Our demands were minimal: we asked them not to talk about the language, but to talk in the language—that is, to allow us to show their world,\" the two directors add.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe 13th Festival begins on March 11 and continues until the 20th. The in.gr site is a media sponsor for the event.\u003Cbr \/\u003E—Newsroom of the Lamprakis Press Group, Athens News Agency\/Macedonian News Agency\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/1991166839674258784\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/tsakonian-documentary.html#comment-form","title":"22 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1991166839674258784"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1991166839674258784"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/tsakonian-documentary.html","title":"Tsakonian documentary"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/lh6.googleusercontent.com\/-n-0IC66FMZA\/TWn5kXTTmRI\/AAAAAAAAA08\/4TWqNA3ACEc\/s72-c\/%25CE%25A4%25CE%25A3%25CE%2591%25CE%259A%25CE%25A9%25CE%259D%25CE%2599%25CE%2591.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"22"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-4467454389903067285"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-09T00:23:00.005+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-09T09:53:11.366+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"morphology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"The declension of -ευς: Homeric back to Proto-Greek"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"I've been neglecting Ancient Greek, and I don't know that my posts on Ancient Greek are particularly quality offerings anyway. But, once again, perusing the comments of the Magnificent Nikos Sarantakos' Blog has given me an idea for a posting—on Ancient rather than Modern Greek for a change. The post is no surprise to anyone who has read an Ancient Greek grammar; it's half a page's worth of a Historical Grammar of Greek. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'll walk  through the page in slow motion, because I'm loath to pass up an opportunity to be didactic. It'll be slow enough, it'll drag through two posts.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's not much of a premiss. Sarantakos spelled \u003Ci\u003EAcharnians\u003C\/i\u003E in a post as Αχαρνείς, and the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/28\/sykophant\/#comment-60205\"\u003Efirst comment off the cab rank\u003C\/a\u003E asked, simply: Εν τέλει είναι “Αχαρνείς” ή “Αχαρνής”;\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo the classicists whose teeth have been set on edge by the monotonic, I'll render that as: \"Should it be spelled Ἀχαρνῆς or Ἀχαρνεῖς?\" I'm going to spend most of this post and the next working through the historical morphology of -ευς nouns. In this post, from Homeric backwards, and in the next post, post-Homeric (including why Attic had the plural Ἀχαρνῆς and then Ἀχαρνεῖς.) In the second post, I'll add a codicil on why a Modern Greek speaker would hesitate over the spelling. Yes, once again, Puristic is to blame—this time, because it wasn't as pure as it claimed it was.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EAncient Greek had lots of dialects, and dialects had different ways of declining the same nouns. In historical linguistics, we reconstruct proto-forms, not because we particularly care to know what some tribe's language was five thousand years ago, but because we can use those proto-forms to explain the diversity of later forms. There's several dialects to explain; we want to explain the Attic of Aristophanes ultimately, but we're going to start with the variant of Greek that everyone starts with, Homeric Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow, there are three declensions of Ancient Greek nouns, and -ευς nouns are third declension nouns. That means that, underlyingly, it shares the following inflections with all other third declension nouns:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Es\u003Ctd\u003Ee\u003Ctd\u003Ees\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eos\u003Ctd\u003Eoin\u003Ctd\u003Eɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003Ei\u003Ctd\u003Eoin\u003Ctd\u003Esi\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Ea\u003Ctd\u003Ee\u003Ctd\u003Eas\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003E—\u003Ctd\u003Ee\u003Ctd\u003Ees\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat in itself is a reconstruction. In some nouns, the pattern is clear: φύλαξ, φύλακος, φύλακι, \u003Ci\u003Epʰýlak-s, pʰýlak-os, pʰýlak-i...\u003C\/i\u003E For other nouns, the pattern is harder to see: λύσις, λύσεως, λύσει, \u003Ci\u003Elýsi-s, lýse-ɔːs, lýse-i\u003C\/i\u003E. With historical linguistics, comparison with other dialects, and some imagination, we can work out that they all belong to the same underlying pattern. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut what's obvious to us was not obvious at the time. The Roman-era Greek grammarians were pretty good at reconstructing forms to explain their grammar, but the three underlying declensions eluded them: they were happy to have fifty-odd declensions on the books. When in the Renaissance Greek grammarians discovered that  Latin grammar had managed to get Latin declensions down to five, they realised they needed to take another look at their own grammar. In the first attempt, they managed to get it down to ten.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHomeric Greek is a few centuries older than Attic, which means there are a few centuries less phonetic change in Homeric Greek to need to disentangle. In Homeric Greek, -ευς nouns *almost* follow the third declension pattern. Here's the Greek characters:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eεύς\u003Ctd\u003Eῆε\u003Ctd\u003Eῆες\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eῆος\u003Ctd\u003Eήοιν\u003Ctd\u003Eήων\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003Eῆι\u003Ctd\u003Eήοιν\u003Ctd\u003Eεῦσι\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Eῆα\u003Ctd\u003Eῆε\u003Ctd\u003Eῆας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eεῦ\u003Ctd\u003Eῆε\u003Ctd\u003Eῆες\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd here's the IPA:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003ESingular\u003Cth\u003EDual\u003Cth\u003EPlural\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003ENom\u003Ctd\u003Eeú-s\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-e\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-es\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EGen\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-os\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ́ː-oin\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ́ː-ɔːn\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EDat\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-i\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ́ː-oin\u003Ctd\u003Eeú-si\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAcc\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-a\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-e\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-as\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EVoc\u003Ctd\u003Eɛû-\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-e\u003Ctd\u003Eɛ̂ː-es\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis almost follows the pattern of \u003Ci\u003Epʰýlak-s, pʰýlak-os, pʰýlak-i...\u003C\/i\u003E; but there is a problem. The thematic vowel—the ending of the stem, which goes before the inflection—alternates between \/ɛː\/, in front of a vowel, and \/eu\/, in front of a consonant.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat alternation between \/ɛː\/ and \/eu\/ isn't right: surely underlyingly there should be just one vowel or diphthong that the stem ends in, throughout. We're going to work out what that vowel or diphthong is, by internal reconstruction: we'll use just the forms in Homeric Greek, and what we know of language change elsewhere in Greek—to arrive at a pre-Homeric Greek form. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENote the distinction: pre-Greek works backwards from just one dialect; proto-Greek takes all the data into account, from other dialects of Greek as well as related languages. The two will look different, but not that different.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo explain the alternation between \/ɛː\/ and \/eu\/, we need two sound changes:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Col\u003E\u003Cli\u003EEither the stem adds a \/u\/ (or a \/w\/) in front of a consonant, or else the stem drops a \/u\/ (or a \/w\/) in front of a vowel.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EEither the stem lengthens its \/e\/ to \/ɛː\/, when it drops its \/w\/, or else it shortens its \/ɛː\/ to \/e\/, when it adds its \/w\/.\u003C\/ol\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESecond change first: we know that when languages drop consonants, they lengthen the preceding vowel. This is called \u003Ci\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Compensatory_lengthening\"\u003Ecompensatory lengthening\u003C\/a\u003E\u003C\/I\u003E, and it makes phonetic sense: if you drop one phoneme, and lengthen the preceding phoneme, the result vaguely takes the same length of time to pronounce as before. Here's some examples from other languages—because phonetic change happens along the same lines across languages: it involves facts of articulation, which are universal to humans:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe spelling \u003Ci\u003Ecart\u003C\/i\u003E in English preserves the original pronunciation \/kaɹt\/, which has survived in American \/kɑɹt\/. When Commonwealth English dropped its r's, it lengthened the previous vowel: Australian English \/kaːt\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EModern Greek preserves the old pronunciation of Turkish \u0026lt;ğ\u0026gt; as \/ɣ\/ in loanwords. In Modern Turkish, \/ɣ\/ was dropped before consonants, and the previous vowel is lengthened: Greek τσογλάνι \/tsoɣlani\/ \"knave\", Turkish \u003Ci\u003Eiç oğlanı\u003C\/i\u003E \/itʃ oːlanɯ\/ \"inside boy = palace servant\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAncient Greek digamma, ϝ \/w\/, disappeared from most dialects of Greek. The first instances of \/w\/ to go were \/w\/ after another consonant. When it did, Ionic lengthened the preceding vowel—though Attic did not. So we explain pairs like Ionic ξεῖνος Attic ξένος, Ionic κούρη Attic κόρη, Ionic οὖρος Attic ὄρος, by positing an original \/w\/ (which does in fact turn up in very early inscriptions): Proto-Greek \/ksenwos, korwaː, worwos\/, Ionic \/kseːnos, koːrɛː, oːros\/, Attic \/ksenos, korɛː, oros\/.\u003C\/ul\u003E \u003Cbr \/\u003ESo we have good precedent for \/w\/ being dropped, and \/e\/ lengthening when it does. We could then reconstruct the stem as ending in \/ew\/: *-ews, *-ewos, *-ewi \u0026gt; -ews, -ɛːos, -ɛːi.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENeat, but I'm afraid, wrong. The compensatory lengthening happens when \/w\/ follows a consonant; but our deleted \/w\/ in *-ewos would be following a vowel. And when Homeric \/w\/ is deleted, the preceding vowel keeps its length.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe have evidence of that from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Augment_(linguistics)\"\u003Eaugment\u003C\/a\u003E. Normally, the aorist in Greek is formed by adding an \/e\/ at the start of a verb, if the verb starts with a consonant; but if the verb starts with a vowel, the vowel is lengthened instead. So δράμω, ἔδραμον \u003Ci\u003Edrámɔː, é-dramon\u003C\/i\u003E, but ἐγείρω, ἤγειρα \u003Ci\u003Eegéːrɔ, ɛ́ːɡeːra\u003C\/i\u003E. (You may have noticed that sometimes ε \/e\/ is lengthened to η \/ɛː\/, sometimes to ει \/eː\/. \/ɛː\/ is the old lengthening, which is in Homer; \/eː\/ is the new lengthening, which is post-Homeric.)  \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut some verbs in Homer do not lengthen the initial vowel: they add an \/e\/, as if the verb started with a consonant: ἔργω, ἔεργον \/érɡɔː, éerɡon\/. We would rather not concede an arbitrary exception: it is simpler to claim that there used to be a consonant there, which was dropped after the augment was added: ϝέργω, ἔϝεργον \/wérɡɔː, éwerɡon\/. We can see the \/w\/ in old dialect inscriptions. We can also see the \/w\/ in English: ϝέργω has the same stem as \u003Ci\u003Ework\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut notice that \/éwerɡon\/ went to \/éerɡon\/ in Homeric Greek, without any compensatory lengthening. Attic Greek does have a long vowel there, as εἶργον \/êːrɡon\/; but the \/eː\/ is merely how Attic concatenates two \/ee\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo a pre-Greek -ews, -ewos, -ewi would end up in Homeric Greek as -ews, -eos, -ei. That's not what Homeric has. We know that the \/w\/ must have dropped out between vowels, because it did so all the time: the alternative, that \/w\/ popped up between \/e\/ and \/s\/ in -eus, doesn't make sense. So we're on the right track; but the original vowel must have been a long \/ɛː\/: if the Homeric genitive was \/ɛːos\/, the pre-Greek must have been \/ɛːwos\/. And that means the pre-Greek must have been  *\/-ɛːws, -ɛːwos, -ɛːwi\/. What we're now looking for is a rule to explain why  *\/ɛːws\/ and *\/ɛːwsi\/ turned into short \/ews\/ and \/ewsi\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat rule exists, and is called \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Osthoff's_law\"\u003EOsthoff's Law\u003C\/a\u003E. It does more than explain \/ɛːws\/ going to \/ews\/: it says that in general, if a long vowel if followed by a resonant and then another consonant (VːRC, where R is one of \/m n l r j w\/), the vowel is shortened. We know that there used to be long vowels there, because Osthoff's Law did not apply to Indo-Iranian. \u003Cblockquote\u003ESo the sky god, the textbooks say was \u003Ci\u003Edyā́us\u003C\/i\u003E (\/djáːws\/) in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Vedic_Sanskrit\"\u003EVedic Sanskrit\u003C\/a\u003E; but \/djáːws\/ fits the VːRC pattern. The equivalent word in Greek, then, has a short vowel through Osthoff's Law. Can you guess the Greek equivalent? \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\/dj\/ corresponds to Greek \/zd\/: yes, the Greek for \/djáːws\/ is \/zdéws\/, Ζεύς, and we reconstruct the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Proto-Indo-European_language\"\u003EProto–Indo-European\u003C\/a\u003E (PIE) Sky God as *\u003Cspan style=\"font-style:italic;\"\u003Edyēws\u003C\/span\u003E \/djeːws\/. (Sanskrit defaulted its vowels to \/a\/; Greek is considered to have preserved PIE vowels better than Sanskrit, because it has a lot more \/e\/ and \/o\/.)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWith Osthoff and digamma-dropping, we have explained almost all of the Homeric declension of -ευς:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPre-Greek: -ɛːws, -ɛːwos, -ɛːwi, -ɛːwa, -ɛːw-, -ɛːwe, -ɛːwojn, -ɛːwes, -ɛːwɔːn, -ɛːwsi, -ɛːwas, -ɛːwes\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EOsthoff: \u003Cb\u003E-ɛws\u003C\/b\u003E, -ɛːwos, -ɛːwi, -ɛːwa, -ɛːw-, -ɛːwe, -ɛːwojn, -ɛːwes, -ɛːwɔːn, \u003Cb\u003E-ɛwsi\u003C\/b\u003E, -ɛːwas, -ɛːwes\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EDrop digamma between vowels: -ɛws, \u003Cb\u003E-ɛːos, -ɛːi, -ɛːa\u003C\/b\u003E, \u003Ci\u003E-ɛːw-\u003C\/i\u003E, \u003Cb\u003E-ɛːe, -ɛːojn, -ɛːes, -ɛːɔːn,\u003C\/b\u003E -ɛwsi, \u003Cb\u003E-ɛːas, -ɛːes\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere is one form that this does not explain: Osthoff's Law does not apply to the vocative singular, \/-ɛːw-\/, but this has ended up as short \/-eû\/ regardless. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhen in doubt, we appeal to analogy: in  third declension nouns based on stems ending in \/i\/ and \/u\/, the vocative singular is the same as the nominative, except for dropping the \/s\/: ὀφρύς, ὀφρύ \/opʰrýs, opʰrý\/; πόλις, πόλι \/pólis, póli\/. Following that pattern, the vocative *-ɛːw was also made to look like the nominative, except for dropping the \/s\/: βασιλεύς, βασιλεῦ \/basileús, basileû\/. If any of the cases was going to fall under another's sway, it would be the vocative, which is a minor case—and which is conflated with the nominative in everything  but the masculine singular.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo for a good Homeric word like βασιλεύς \"king\", then, we have just reconstructed the pre-Greek nominative as *βασιληύς, \/basilɛ́ːws\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe proto-Greek, as opposed to the pre-Greek, is based on more evidence than just Homeric: it seeks to explain *all* forms that have appeared in Greek, not just one dialect's. And the proto-Greek for βασιλεύς is not \/basilɛ́ːws\/. It's \/ɡʷatilews\/, with a genitive of \/ɡʷatileːwos\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's nuts, I know. But: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Col\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\/b\/ in Greek corresponds to Indic \/g\/, Latin \/b, w\/, and Germanic \/k\/ (English \u003Ci\u003Ecow\u003C\/i\u003E, Sanskrit \u003Ci\u003Egau\u003C\/i\u003E, Greek βοῦς). This means we're looking for a single Proto–Indo-European consonant to explain all of these, which has something in common with both the labial \/b\/ and the velar \/g\/. The convention in Indo-European is to call that something a labio-velar, \/ɡʷ\/. In fact, there has been no need to assume PIE had a \/b\/ at all.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPIE \/ti\/ ended up in Greek as \/si\/, through assibilation: affricating a palatalised consonant. It's the same process through which Latin \u003Ci\u003Enatio\u003C\/i\u003E ended up pronounced in French as \/nasjɔ̃\/; and (applied to \/k\/ rather than \/t\/) it's what Modern Greek linguists call tsitacism.\u003C\/ol\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe proto-form has PIE \/ɡʷ\/, not \/b\/, and PIE \/ti\/, not \/si\/. On the other hand, it has Osthoff's Law already operating, unlike PIE (\u003Ci\u003Eɡʷatilews\u003C\/i\u003E, not \u003Ci\u003Eɡʷatileːws\u003C\/i\u003E). The reason for all that is, there are forms of Greek with \/ti\/ instead of \/si\/ (Doric); and the point of a proto-Greek form is to explain the forms in all variants of Greek. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELikewise, the proto-form already has Osthoff's Law, because Osthoff's Law applies to all variants of Greek, so it doesn't need to account for any forms in which Osthoff's Law is absent. The proto-Greek form explains the Greek variants of the word, not how the Greek variants differ from the non-Osthoff Sanskrit.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe proto-form also has \/ɡʷ\/, not \/b\/, which means we're claiming there is a form of Greek which still had the PIE labiovelars. There's no Greek letter for \/ɡʷ\/, so no form written in the letters introduced by the Phoenecians recorded such a \/ɡʷ\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere is, however, a Greek *syllable*  for \/ɡʷa\/. βασιλεύς turns up in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Linear_B\"\u003ELinear B\u003C\/a\u003E, as \u003Ci\u003Eqa-si-re-u\u003C\/i\u003E: \u0026#65571;\u0026#65583;\u0026#65577;\u0026#65540;. We also have a genitive of -εύς turn up in Linear B, complete with its digamma: ἱερῆϝος \/hierɛ̂ːwos\/ \"of the priest\" (Attic ἱερέως) turns up in Linear B as \u003Ci\u003Ei-je-re-wo\u003C\/i\u003E, \u0026#65538;\u0026#65547;\u0026#65577;\u0026#65594;.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Col\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe astute reader may have noticed that proto-Greek has a \/ti\/ in \u003Ci\u003Eɡʷatilews\u003C\/I\u003E, but Linear B has a \/si\/ in \u003Ci\u003Eqa-si-re-u\u003C\/i\u003E. \/si\/ is supposed to be a later development than \/ti\/. But that just proves that Linear B is not proto-Greek: it is the earliest form of just one dialect branch of Greek—which did not retain \/ti\/ like Doric did. So in some features, Mycenaean is more innovative than Doric was a millenium later. (But only some.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EWe know now that \u0026#65571; \u003Ci\u003Eqa\u003C\/i\u003E corresponds to PIE \/kʷa, ɡʷa\/. (Linear B also conflates \/k\/ and \/g\/.) But the labio-velar interpretation wasn't immediately obvious to \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Michael_Ventris\"\u003EVentris\u003C\/a\u003E: in the first edition of the decipherment, the sign was transcribed as \u003Ci\u003Epa\u003Csub\u003E2\u003C\/sub\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ENo, there wasn't really an overwhelming reason for me to cite Linear B in the original. Actually, I'm curious to know: how many of you can see Linear B in the paragraph above?\u003C\/ol\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo far, we've explained Homeric Greek. The plural of Acharnians in Homeric Greek would be Ἀχαρνῆες—which is neither Ἀχαρνῆς not Ἀχαρνεῖς. That involves a few more changes within the dialects of Greek, and it will need to wait for the next post.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/4467454389903067285\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/declension-of-homeric-back-to-proto.html#comment-form","title":"26 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/4467454389903067285"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/4467454389903067285"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/declension-of-homeric-back-to-proto.html","title":"The declension of -ευς: Homeric back to Proto-Greek"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"26"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-4662134753690417174"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-08T00:01:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2017-02-26T15:02:12.598+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"idioms"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"semantics"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"αμέτι μουχαμέτι: Semantics"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"We have \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/syntax.html\"\u003Ejust looked at\u003C\/a\u003E the development of the syntax of αμέτι μουχαμέτι, from an Ottoman Turkish noun phrase \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E \"nation of Muhammad\", to the Modern Greek adverb \"come hell or high water\"—which arguably has ended up, in a limited sense, as a noun comparable in function to σκοπός \"purpose\" or όρκος \"oath\". And we tried to account for the shift from noun, through exclamation, to adverb—and back to noun—by appealing to reanalysis and extension.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EReanalysis and extension also apply to semantic change, and in this post, I pick up from my \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/come-hell-or-high-water.html\"\u003Esecond last post\u003C\/a\u003E on Vasilis Orfanos' \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59482\"\u003Eanalysis of the semantic transition\u003C\/a\u003E, over at the Magnificent Nikos Sarantakos' Blog. The debate that broke out between commenters on when the changeover happened is of particular interest, since it highlights the mechanism of how gradual the semantic change is.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003ETo start with, what actually happened to \"nation of Muhammad\" to end up meaning \"come hell or high water\" is pretty clear, and I will quote Orfanos' analysis:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EIn Turkish there is an expression \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E, \"nation of Muhammad\", with which Muslims refer to the sum of their coreligionists. During Ottoman rule, it was also used as a warcry, which was interpreted by Greeks as an oath\/commitment to attain victory. So it passed into Greek with the sense \"at any sacrifice\", as αμέτι μουχαμέτι—possibly through the influence of a folk etymology from the name \u003Ci\u003EAhmed\u003C\/i\u003E or the oath Μα το Μουχαμέτη \"By Muhammad!\"\u003C\/blockquote\u003E  \u003Cbr \/\u003ELet's walk through the examples again, from a semantic rather than syntactic point this time. Unsurprisingly, the semantic and the syntactic development aligned closely.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo begin with, the expression refers literally to the Muslim nation (1, 5):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤον κύριο παρακάλεσαν να κάμη μερχαμέτι, Και να τους κάμη ολουνούς του Μουχαμέτ’ ουμμέτι \"They begged the Lord to show compassion, and to make them all Muhammad's nation\".\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhen the word acts as a war cry (as a vocative and then an exclamation), it expresses encouragement to action (4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 13)—as well as its polar opposite, despair (3, 14, 15, 16):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eιμέτι, Μωχαμέτη, ’Σ τον ντιν ντουσμάνη σήμερα να κάμωμεν γαϊρέτι, \"Nation of Muhammad! Today against the infidel enemy we shall show endurance.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΟρίστε, λεγ’ Αλήπασας, ιμέτι Μουχαμέτη, Χαΐρι δεν εχούμε ’μεις εφέτ’ απ’ το ντουβλέτι, \"'See,' Ali Pasha says, 'By the Nation of Muhammad! We're not seeing any joy from the government this year!'\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnalysed at that level, the distinction between vocative and exclamation is not that relevant. The reanalysis is clearly when the expression is still a vocative—going from referring to Muslim troops being addressed, to an exclamation. The extension is, again, when the expression of encouragement is used without anyone explicitly being addressed; admittedly, that is clear in the expression of despair rather than the warcry.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe critical switch syntactically was when the expression was used in indirect speech: that allowed it to be reanalysed from an exclamation to an adverb (2, 10). The accompanying semantic shift is earlier: it is already inherent in a warcry, used in direct speech, that the exclamation indicates a commitment to do something, particularly in that it was followed by a command to do it: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(6) Αμέτη, Μωαμέτη! Πιάστε τον τόπον δυνατά, \"Nation of Muhammad! Fortify the place boldly.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe conflation with the oath μα το Μουχαμέτη \"By Muhammad!\" would have reinforced that notion of commitment. The use of the expression in indirect speech is an extension, rather than a reanalysis of that meaning of commitment: it is now separated from any notion of directly addressing people. Orfanos accordingly identified the song on Messolonghi (10) as critical to the development of αμέτι μουχαμέτι—\"as an oath committing the besiegers to achieve their goals\":\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΌλοι τους ωρκισθήκανε αμέτι Μουχαμέτη, στο Μεσολόγγι να εμβούν, να κάμουν κιαμέτι \"They all swore, 'Nation of Muhammad!', to enter Messolonghi and cause havoc.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut αμέτι Μουχαμέτη does not actually mean anything intrinsically different in (6) and (10): the change is syntactic, not semantic. The essential meaning is still the same: \"the subject is committing themselves to doing X\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFrom \"They swear they will do X\", it is an easy step to \"they will definitely do X\", \"they will bloodymindedly do X\". That is the shift in (12), where the modern use of the expression is obvious:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eαλλά ο Γαρδικιότης είναι Αμέτ Μουαμέτ κατά του στραβού, \"but Gardikiotis is bloodymindedly against the blind man.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAgain, the change here is syntactic: it has broadened the contexts in which the expression shows up. There is  a slight change in meaning in (12), which is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/metonymy-and-metaphor-in-language.html\"\u003Emetonymic\u003C\/a\u003E. X committing to doing Y contains the necessary implication that X feels strongly about Y. The semantic shift moves in (12) from commitment to an action, to indication of the associated emotion: Gardikiotis is not committing to doing anything as bloodymindedly as an Ottoman warrior: he just shows the same singlemindedness as an Ottoman warrior. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut this generalisation in meaning hasn't been followed since: αμέτι μουχαμέτι is still associated with intended action, rather than emotional state. What has been picked up by the expression, rather, is connotation, which leads to the meaning being strengthened. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe context is key to how the connotations took root; context, after all, is where connotations come from. Greeks who did not understand Turkish heard the cry in battle, preceding an undertaking to wreak havoc: \"\u003Ci\u003EÜmmet-i Muhammed!\u003C\/i\u003E We will burn them down!\" The cry sounds something like \"By Muhammad!\", which cements the notion that it expresses a religiously fervent, bloodyminded commitment to do ill, made by hostile warriors. When the cry is reanalysed as a more generic adverb indicating commitment, those connotations come along with it: it has picked up the negative connotations of \"being on the warpath\", of unreasonableness, of disproportionate singlemindedness.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat, I hope, is revealing. The real change in αμέτι μουχαμέτι is syntactic, not semantic; the essential semantic reanalysis, from vocative to expression of commitment, is earlier (indeed, it happened in Turkish and not Greek), and it is not particularly drastic. Connotation, rather than semantic shift, has given the expression the force it now has; and connotation is a more subtle change than the syntactic reanalyses undergone by αμέτι μουχαμέτι.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBecause the semantic change is not particularly pronounced, my \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.opoudjis.net\/Play\/opoudjis.html\"\u003Egodfather\u003C\/a\u003E Tasos Kaplanis thought \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59516\"\u003Ethere was still a missing link\u003C\/a\u003E between the 1820s songs with warcries (10) and the 1859 Modern Greek adverbial use (12):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EWhat is impressive is that in most cases from the 19th century recorded in the post, the phrase has or could have the initial meaning it has in Turkish—until we reach Xenos (12) and Papdiamantis (17, 18), who record the phrase with more or less its modern meaning. […] I find this somewhat peculiar, and I still can't see the link between the popular records of the phrase (not just in folk song and older texts, but also Kolokotronis and Koutsonikas), and the literary or learnèd usage by Xenos and Papadiamantis.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn other words, in (10) the expression is still a Muslim warcry; in (12) it is a Greek adverb; and the transition between the two is not obvious.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI think the ensuing exchange is illuminating:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59520\"\u003ENikos Sarantakos\u003C\/a\u003E thinks the songs of Messolonghi (10) and Xopateras (11) do provide the missing link: \"they swore, \u003Ci\u003Eamet moukhamet\u003C\/i\u003E, they would conquer Messolonghi \/ they would seize the priest.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59521\"\u003ETasos thinks\u003C\/a\u003E that (11) merely quotes the interjection. In fact, that's also how I'd interpreted it \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/syntax.html\"\u003Elast post\u003C\/a\u003E. As to the critical example (10), Tasos says:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EIn the siege of Messolonghi, Legrand's misunderstanding (\"By Muhammad!\") could be a missing link—though I still don't see how we got from \"By Muhammad!\" to \"stubbornly, wilfully, at any sacrifice\", etc. And if you add a comma to edition, αμέτι μουχαμέτι turns back into \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E: \"They all swore, Nation of Muhammed, they would enter Messolonghi.\"\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59522\"\u003EMaria\u003C\/a\u003E retorts she too can see the transition clearly.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59524\"\u003ETasos\u003C\/a\u003E answers: \"OK, Maria, maybe I can't see it because I understand what the Turkish means.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETasos wasn't saying that because he took offence, but because understanding Turkish really does get in the way of seeing how the meaning change happened: that's why I'm highlighting the exchange. Greek speakers clearly were starting not to understand what \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E means: that's what allowed them to distort \u003Ci\u003Eümmet\u003C\/I\u003E as αμέτι. Greek speakers were starting to guess what αμέτι μουχαμέτι meant from context. That meant that the meaning shift was possible as a reanalysis, even if superficially the phrases looked the same: the meaning shift happened in Greek-speakers' heads, and had not yet undergone extension to new contexts. So if you actually do know Turkish, you will not initially notice a change at all.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's not surprising that  Sarantakos, like Orfanos, highlights (10) as a pivot: it displays a clear syntactic reanalysis, rather than the more subtle semantic shift, through indirect speech. Tasos retorts that the difference between \"at any cost\" and \"Nation of Muhammad!\" in (10) is merely a comma. But of course, that's precisely why (10) matters: syntactic reanalysis is exactly a matter of a missing comma—that is, a reinterpretation of the syntactic structure, which can be represented through intonation, and in print through commas.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESarantakos also highlights (11) as a comparable instance. I said that in the last post I interpreted (11) like Tasos, with a disjoint exclamation: \"'Glory to Allah', they cried, and 'Ameti Moukhameti': they would go seize the priest, to calm Crete down.\" The expression does look like (10), and could be construed in the same way, as indirect speech containing an exclamation: \"and (Nation of Muhammad!) they would go seize the priest\" \u0026gt; \"and at any cost, they would go seize the priest\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI don't think that's what the composer of the song intended—because \"Nation of Muhammed!\" was conjoined with \"Glory to Allah!\" But that construal was clearly starting to be possible—and in a couple of decades, led to the unambiguous extension in (12). And I hope I've explained above how to get from \"By Muhammad\" to \"at any sacrifice\", through hostile connotation.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/4662134753690417174\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/semantics.html#comment-form","title":"9 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/4662134753690417174"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/4662134753690417174"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/semantics.html","title":"αμέτι μουχαμέτι: Semantics"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"9"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-4207461565538577594"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-07T03:15:00.005+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-09T12:52:30.458+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"idioms"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"syntax"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"αμέτι μουχαμέτι: Syntax"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"We saw in the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/come-hell-or-high-water.html\"\u003Elast post\u003C\/a\u003E the evidence for the development of αμέτι μουχαμέτι in the 19th century, from the Ottoman Turkish \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E \"nation of Muhammed\", to the Modern Greek \"come hell or high water\". We can already get a fair idea of how the meaning shifted, from the examples Vasilis Orfanos produced—and which I will keep citing, following the numbering in the last post. I did not yet finalise my take on how the change in meaning happened—and, more interestingly, when.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI won't do that this post either, because instead I want to look at how not just the semantics, but the syntax of the expression changed. Like the semantics, I will claim that the syntax of this expression, like that of so many others, changed through an iteration of reanalysis and extension: hearers reinterpret an expression in an ambiguous context, assigning it a new structure—and then they extend that new structure to novel contexts, where the old interpretation could not be used. The reanalysis brings the new structure into being, but only the extension makes the structure visible, as an unambiguous addition to the language.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo it was with the semantics of the expression—through sentences where the Ottoman warcry was reinterpreted as an expression of bloodymindedness, as I will try to walk through. So it is was, at least for the most part, with the syntax. There is a change at the end where the extension may not have been out of an ambiguous context, but a more abstract jump—which is perfectly possible, but not what I prefer. But let's get there slowly.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EA good deal of the change in the syntax of αμέτι μουχαμέτι had already happened in Ottoman Turkish. Originally, of course, \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E was just a noun phrase, and we see that meaning literally in (1, 5):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤον κύριο παρακάλεσαν να κάμη μερχαμέτι, Και να τους κάμη ολουνούς του Μουχαμέτ’ ουμμέτι \"They begged the Lord to show compassion, and to make them all \u003Ci\u003EMuhammad's nation\u003C\/i\u003E\".\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOttomans addressed groups of Muslims as \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E, which makes the expression a vocative. The salient example of this, of course, is the warcry to Muslim troops. I claimed (2) was the first example of this, but the syntax is darker than that. But the warcry is clearly there in (4, 6, 8, 9, 13)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eιμέτι, Μωχαμέτη, ’Σ τον ντιν ντουσμάνη σήμερα να κάμωμεν γαϊρέτι, \"Nation of Muhammad! Today against the infidel enemy we shall show endurance.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EExtension can't be usefully shown here, because this is still a noun phrase. The next function is too close to disentangle as well: as an exclamation. When troops are being addressed, as in (4), it is ambiguous whether  \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E is an exclamation or a vocative. The extension happens when there are no troops being addressed, so the expression no longer makes sense as a term of address. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat extension is clearly what Ali Pasha used, when \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E is an exclamation of surprise or dismay, not an address to troops (3):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003EΟρίστε, λεγ’ Αλήπασας, ιμέτι Μουχαμέτη, Χαΐρι δεν εχούμε ’μεις εφέτ’ απ’ το ντουβλέτι, \"'See,' Ali Pasha says, 'By the Nation of Muhammad! We're not seeing any joy from the government this year!'\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe late exclamations of dismay attributed to Ottomans (14, 15) also fall under this class. We would also see the warcry as an exclamation instead of a vocative, if it were used in addressing someone other than troops, or in a way otherwise incompatible with vocatives.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIn an example like \"\u003Ci\u003EÜmmet-i Muhammed!\u003C\/i\u003E Today you will die, infidels!\", \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E would not be used to address Muslims. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EKolokotronis, by nominalising the cry, is treating it as something said, which is more consistent with an exclamation than an address (7): και με το αμέτ μουχαμέτ ώρμησαν κατά των ιδικών μας, \"with an \u003Ci\u003EAmet Moukhamet\u003C\/i\u003E they rushed onto our men\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe song on Xopateras (11) treats \u003Ci\u003EÜmmet-i Muhammed!\u003C\/i\u003E as the same kind of phrase as \u003Ci\u003ESubhanAllah\u003C\/i\u003E \"Glory to Allah!\", and it is not followed by a command.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe song on Tryfitsos (16) joins \u003Ci\u003EAmeti mou Khameti\u003C\/i\u003E to the next sentence with \"and\"—which is inconsistent with a vocative: αμέτι μου χαμέτι και ο Τρυφίτσος είν κιοσές που μας-ε παίζει μπέτι, \"\u003Ci\u003EAmeti mou khameti\u003C\/i\u003E, and Tryfitsos is the one who is firing at our chests.\" That cannot be interpreted as \"Oh Nation of Muhammad!—And Tryfitsos is firing at us.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe Greek expression, with its notion of obstinacy, clearly came from the warcry and not the cry of despair. What's critical for the next reanalysis is that the expression is an exclamation—which allows it to turn up in a broad range of contexts. In several instances of the warcry, the exclamation introduces a commitment to do something:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(4) Nation of Muhammad! Today against the infidel enemy we shall show endurance.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(6) Nation of Muhammad! Fortify the place boldly.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(13) Nation of Muhammad! We will burn them down.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf Greeks no longer understood \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammad\u003C\/i\u003E, and distorted it to αμέτι μουχαμέτι, the exclamation could be reinterpreted as an adverbial phrase: \"definitely, at any cost, come hell or high water\"; so \"at any cost, we will burn them down!\" It would help such an interpretation along, that one of the phrases likely to have been conflated with \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammad\u003C\/i\u003E was μα το Μουχαμέτη \"by Muhammad\"—which also can be used to expressed commitment.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe adverbial interpretation helps when the expression turns up in indirect speech, where the vocative cannot, and even the exclamation is problematic. That indirect speech use seems to me to motivate (2) and (10)—(10) more clearly than (2):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(2) τους Τούρκους όλους λάλει· όλοι τους –­ ουμέτι Μουαμέτη –­ ας δράμουν στην μητρόπολι \"Tell all the Muslims: all of them—Nation of Muhammad—should run to the cathedral\":\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EInterpreted as apposition: \"all of them, namely the Nation of Muhammad, should run\": noun phrase\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EInterpreted as indirect speech, quoting exclamation: \"Tell all the Muslims: 'Nation of Muhammad! All of you should run to the Cathedral'\" A vocative could not be so quoted: \"Troops! All of you should run to the Cathedral!\" cannot be rendered as \"Tell the soldiers, all of them—??Troops!—should run to the Cathedral.\" So \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammad\u003C\/i\u003E no longer has vocative force.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E \u003Cli\u003E(10) Όλοι τους ωρκισθήκανε αμέτι Μουχαμέτη, στο Μεσολόγγι να εμβούν, να κάμουν κιαμέτι \"They all swore, 'Nation of Muhammad!', to enter Messolonghi and cause havoc.\" It is impossible for 'Nation of Muhammad' here to be a vocative: this is quoting the Muslims' oath, \"Nation of Muhammad! We will enter Messolonghi and cause havoc!\", with 'Nation of Muhammad' treated as an exclamation.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut while (10) makes sense as quoting Muslims crying \"Nation of Muhammad!\", embedding an exclamation in indirect speech is a very odd thing to do. Any exclamations in \u003Ci\u003Eindirect\u003C\/i\u003E speech should be coming from the speaker, not those quoted. An exclamation like \"onwards!\", though, can be reanalysed as an adverbial phrase, \"crying 'onwards'\"—or \"as if crying 'onwards'\"—or, for that matter, \"at any cost\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat interpretation is more comfortable with (10):  \"They all swore, \u003Ci\u003E'Nation of Muhammad!'\u003C\/i\u003E, to enter Messolonghi and cause havoc\" \u0026gt; \"They all swore, \u003Ci\u003Ecrying 'Nation of Muhammad!'\u003C\/i\u003E\", or \"They all swore, \u003Ci\u003Ein a 'Nation of Muhammad!' way\u003C\/i\u003E\", or \"They all swore, \u003Ci\u003Eat any cost\u003C\/i\u003E to enter Messolonghi.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe have now arrived at the Modern Greek expression, which is adverbial. We have also arrived at the meaning of the Modern Greek expression, which derides obstinacy: αμέτι μουχαμέτι means, ultimately, \"in such a bloodyminded way, you'd think he was urging Muslims into battle\". But for that intepretation to be possible, people had to be using \"Nation of Muhammad!\" in Greek in indirect speech, and no longer as a vocative.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBy (12, 17, 19) we clearly have extension to a context where both the vocative and the exclamation are impossible, and indeed to a context where there can be no reference to Muslim troops at all. This can be straightforwardly read as adverbial use, in the modern sense:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(12) αλλά ο Γαρδικιότης είναι Αμέτ Μουαμέτ κατά του στραβού, \"but Gardikiotis is \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/i\u003E against the blind man.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(17) ο Αλικιάδης είχεν απόφασιν, “Αμέτ Μουαμέτ”, να βάλη τη δουλειά εμπρός, \"Alikiadis had decided, \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/i\u003E, to go ahead with the venture.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(19) ήρθε αμέτι μουhαμέτι να μαλώση, \"he came \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly intending\u003C\/i\u003E to fight.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe expression did not stop as an adverb, however. Recall that αμέτι μουχαμέτι is used in the following ways in Modern Greek:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eas an adverb generally: τα 1.280.000 ευρώ πρέπει να γίνουν, αμέτι μουχαμέτι, ποδηλατόδρομος, \"The 1.28 million euros must be spent \u003Ci\u003Ecome hell or high water\u003C\/i\u003E for a bicycle path\" (αμέτι: 11700 hits on Google)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eθέλει αμέτι μουχαμέτι accusative NOUN OR να VERB, \"he wants, \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E, NOUN\/ to VERB\" (θέλει\/ήθελε αμέτι: 122 hits on Google)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eβάλθηκε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να... \"he has set himself  \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to...\"  (βάλθηκε αμέτι: 4 hits on Google)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο έχει αμέτι μουχαμέτι να... \"he has it  \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to...\" (έχει\/είχε αμέτι: 11 hits on Google)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο έχει βάλει αμέτι μουχαμέτι να... \"he has set it  \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to...\"  (έβαλε\/'βαλε\/έχει βάλει\/είχε βάλει αμέτι: 3021 hits on Google)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUsing αμέτι μουχαμέτι with θέλω \"to want\" can be explained with an adverbial meaning: \"he wants, \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/i\u003E, a raise\"; Η Ντόρα ήθελε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να πάει για τις υπογραφές, \"Dora wanted, \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/i\u003E, to go get the signatures\". And that use of θέλω can be traced back to quotations of the warcry: αμέτι Μουχαμέτι, θα μπούμε στο Μεσολόγγι \"Nation of Muhammad! We shall enter Messolonghi\" \u0026gt; ήθελαν «αμέτι Μουχαμέτι» να μπούνε στο Μεσολόγγι \"they wanted 'Nation of Muhammad!' to enter Messolonghi\" \u0026gt; \"they wanted, bloodymindedly, to enter Messolonghi.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe same holds for βάλθηκε, \"he set himself\/herself\": Υπουργός τότε ο πολλά βαρύς και όχι Βασίλης Κοντογιαννόπουλος […], ο οποίος βάλθηκε αμέτι μου χαμέτι μου να μεταρρυθμίσει την Παιδεία, \"The minister at the time was the dour-as-black-coffee Vasilis Kontogiannopoulos […] who set himself, \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/i\u003E, to reform Education\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.musicheaven.gr\/html\/modules.php?name=Blog\u0026file=page\u0026op=viewPost\u0026pid=9755\"\u003Eblacksad\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut the main use with a verb is with and το έχει βάλει \"he has set it\"—with το έχει \"he has it\" (18) trailing far behind:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E(18) το είχεν αμέτ Μωαμέτ, να γίνη δήμαρχος, \"he had it \u003Ci\u003Eamet Moamet\u003C\/i\u003E to become mayor.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΟ Υπουργός Δημοσίων Έργων […] το έβαλε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να τον εκτρέψει,  \"The minister of Public Works has set it \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to derail him.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThese instances are not adverbs: ??\"he had it bloodymindedly to become mayor\", ??\"he set it bloodymindedly to derail him\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat these expressions do sound like though, is (το) είχε σκοπό να..., το 'βαλε σκοπό να... (έχει\/είχε σκοπό: 1,021,000 hits on Google; έβαλε\/'βαλε\/έχει βάλει\/είχε βάλει σκοπό: 135,600 hits on Google), \"has\/sets purpose to = intends to\". In other words, αμέτι μουχαμέτι is behaving, in its usage after βάζω and έχω, like the noun σκοπός, \"purpose\"—which means that   αμέτι μουχαμέτι has been reanalysed as a noun. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOther nouns have already fitted into this template: έχει\/είχε καημό να \"sorrow = yearning to\" (4340 hits), έχει\/είχε βάλει καημό να (2 hits); έχει\/είχε άχτι να \"spite to\" (534 hits), έχει\/είχε βάλει άχτι να (4 hits). There would be a simple reason of analogy for αμέτι μουχαμέτι to fit this noun template: it looks like a neuter noun. In fact, αμέτι μουχαμέτι \u0026gt; \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E looks like the neuter noun άχτι \"spite\" \u0026lt; \u003Ci\u003Eahd\u003C\/i\u003E \"oath, promise\". And άχτι is primarily used with the verb έχω \"have\" and βγάζω \"take out\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUnlike σκοπός, καημός, and άχτι, the expression αμέτι μουχαμέτι is mostly associated, so Google has it, with βάζω \"set\"—particularly with the perfect το έχει βάλει (1940 of the 3020 hits). One explanation for that is another analogy—with βάζω όρκο \"to set an oath = to swear\" (and not *έχω όρκο): \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E was understood to be an oath, explicitly so in (10). But that does not explain by itself  why βάζω \"set\" was associated with an adverb \"bloodymindedly\": \"he set it bloodymindedly\" doesn't quite make sense.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(17) provides one ambiguous context which explains this reanalysis: ο Αλικιάδης είχεν απόφασιν, “Αμέτ Μουαμέτ”, να βάλη τη δουλειά εμπρός, \"Alikiadis had a decision, \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/i\u003E, to go ahead with the venture\" (adverb) \u0026gt; \"Alikiadis had a decision, \u003Ci\u003Ean 'Amet Mouamet'\u003C\/i\u003E, to go ahead with the venture\" (noun). In other words, αμέτι μουχαμέτι was reanalysed as a noun in apposition with \"decision\"—another word for \"decision\". The punctuation, if it is Papadiamantis', supports that—αμέτι μουχαμέτι was still more like an interjection than an adverb, and its separate intonation makes it look like apposition.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMaybe, but the reanalysis looks unconvincing to me: appositions are a bit too learnèd to be plausible here. The best I can come up with is the construction έβαλε να... \"he set out to\": έβαλε να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set out to make coffee\". Combined with αμέτι μουχαμέτι, the construction becomes έβαλε, αμέτι μουχαμέτι, να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set out bloodymindedly to make coffee\", which can be reanalysed as \"he set a purpose to make coffee\". Once that reanalysis happened, the clitic object could be added in, by analogy:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eέβαλε σκοπό να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set a purpose to make coffee\" = \"he intended to make coffee\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο 'βαλε σκοπό να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set it a purpose to make coffee\" = \"he intended to make coffee\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο 'βαλε όρκο να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set it an oath to make coffee\" = \"he swore he'd make cofee\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eέβαλε, αμέτι μουχαμέτι, να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set out, \u003Ci\u003Ebloodymindedly\u003C\/I\u003E, to make coffee\" \u0026gt; έβαλε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set a \u003Ci\u003Ebloodyminded intent\u003C\/i\u003E to make coffee\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο 'βαλε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να φτιάξει καφέ, \"he set it a bloodyminded intent to make coffee\"—by analogy with το 'βαλε σκοπό and το 'βαλε όρκο\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe may not need to find an ambiguous sentence to explain το 'βαλε αμέτι μουχαμέτι. It may merely be an analogy straight from το 'βαλε όρκο \"he set it an oath\" and το 'βαλε σκοπό, with αμέτι μουχαμέτι sounding like a noun to replace όρκο and σκοπό, but as a conceptual leap rather than a shift latent in context.\u003Cbr \/\u003E   \u003Cbr \/\u003EAt any rate, αμέτι μουχαμέτι is acting like the noun σκοπό \"purpose\" in the βάζω\/έχω … να construction—but the noun analysis has not undergone further extension. αμέτι μουχαμέτι is not used in the contexts that σκοπός is: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΟ σκοπός είναι να δούμε νέες ιδέες, \"the intention is for us to see new ideas\"; *το αμέτι μουχαμέτι είναι να δούμε νέες ιδέες\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΈχει καλό σκοπό, \"he has good intentions\"; *έχει καλό αμέτι μουχαμέτι\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003CLi\u003EΗ θεωρία του σκοπού της ζωής, \"the theory of the purpose of life\"; *η θεωρία του αμετιού μουχαμετιού της ζωής\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΈρανος με σκοπό να αγοραστεί δορυφόρος, \"a fundraiser with the intention of buying a satellite\"; *έρανος με αμέτι μουχαμέτι να αγοραστεί δορυφόρος\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUsing αμέτι μουχαμέτι as the noun \"purpose\" in general sounds absurd for now. But in Turkish, \"he set it Nation of Muhammad to make coffee\" sounds absurd. (Try it out: \u003Ci\u003EKahve yapmak için, ümmet-i Muhammed o yerleştirilir\u003C\/i\u003E. It would be less absurd, if I actually knew any Turkish...) Syntactic change is possible, if people see a point in it; and we can't rule out future extension of the construction, along the path it has started.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/4207461565538577594\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/syntax.html#comment-form","title":"8 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/4207461565538577594"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/4207461565538577594"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/syntax.html","title":"αμέτι μουχαμέτι: Syntax"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"8"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-764117749397846799"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-03T00:06:00.004+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-03-09T12:49:32.741+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"etymology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"idioms"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"αμέτι μουχαμέτι, \"Come Hell or High Water\""},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"As I alluded to in the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/and-semantics-persistence-in-modern.html\"\u003Eprevious post\u003C\/a\u003E, this post is about how the Ottoman phrase \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E, \"Nation of Muhammad\", turned into the Modern Greek expression αμέτι μουχαμέτι, \"come hell or high water\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe material for this post is taken from the Magnificent Nikos Sarantakos' Blog—as much of the material on this blog is. The expression  was brought up in an \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-40257\"\u003Eearlier, inconclusive post\u003C\/a\u003E by Sarantakos, with help by the Ottomanist \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/dytistonniptiron.wordpress.com\/\"\u003EDiver of Sinks\u003C\/a\u003E. But the expression has recently been given a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59482\"\u003Emagisterial treatment\u003C\/a\u003E by Vasilis Orfanos. To trace the development of the expression, Orfanos made use of several sources, including writings by Muslim speakers of Greek—who were how the expression got into Greek to begin with.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe expression appears to have undergone a shift in analysis, helped along by Greek-speakers who no longer understood Turkish. The difficulty is in working out when exactly the shift happened: the texts don't tell us unambiguously—precisely because the shift relied on ambiguity to take place, as a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/metonymy-and-metaphor-in-language.html\"\u003Emetonymic change\u003C\/a\u003E. That's a question I'll try to explore in a followup post.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut let's start with how the modern expression is used, before we go back to the early 1800s.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EThe Modern Greek usage of αμέτι μουχαμέτι is as an adverbial phrase, meaning \"perforce, at any cost, done with stubborn insistence.\" It conveys a negative attitude towards the person insisting, although Orfanos has \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#_ftn53\"\u003Enoticed that it has started\u003C\/a\u003E being used positively. (His example is from a deputy minister's interview on the radio.) It is usually used with a light verb, whose subject is the person insisting:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eθέλει αμέτι μουχαμέτι accusative NOUN OR να VERB, \"he wants, \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E, NOUN\/ to VERB\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο έχει αμέτι μουχαμέτι να... \"he has it \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to...\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτο έχει βάλει αμέτι μουχαμέτι να... \"he has set it \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to...\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eβάλθηκε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να...  \"he has set himself \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to...\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe phrase is colloquial, but in wide use; Orfanos has gathered the following examples from the recent press (only the last is a web-only publication):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E Το 'βαλαν αμέτι-μουχαμέτι, αργά ή γρήγορα θα συνέβαινε, δεν συνέβη τη μία, δεν συνέβη την επομένη, συνέβη τη μεθεπομένη. \"They set it \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E: it would happen sooner or later. It didn't happen the first time or the second; it did happen the third.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΗ Ντόρα ήθελε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να πάει για τις υπογραφές. \"[Politician] \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Dora_Bakoyannis\"\u003EDora [Bakoyannis]\u003C\/a\u003E wanted \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to go and get the signatures.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΟ Υπουργός Δημοσίων Έργων […] το έβαλε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να τον εκτρέψει. \"The minister of Public Works set out \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to derail him.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤα 1.280.000 ευρώ πρέπει να γίνουν, αμέτι μουχαμέτι, ποδηλατόδρομος, αλλιώς θα τα χάναμε. \"The 1.28 million euros must be spent \u003Ci\u003Eameti moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E for a bicycle path; otherwise we'll lose them.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe phrase is almost always now αμέτι μουχαμέτι, although Orfanos has noted a couple of instances of αμέτη μουαμέτη and αμέτ μουαμέτ (which are earlier attested variants.) The phrase αμέτι μουχαμέτι is quite opaque to Greek speakers now; Sarantakos notes that speakers often reanalyse it as αμέτι μου χαμέτι \"my \u003Ci\u003Eameti khameti\u003C\/i\u003E\", or even αμέτι μου χαμέτι μου \"my \u003Ci\u003Eameti\u003C\/i\u003E, my \u003Ci\u003Ekhameti\u003C\/i\u003E\"—with \u003CI\u003Ekhameti\u003C\/i\u003E just as as opaque as \u003Ci\u003Eameti\u003C\/i\u003E. Orfanos has noted it go even further online, dropping the seeming possessives and ending up as αμέτι χαμέτι, or garbling μουχαμέτι as αμέτι μω χαμέτι or αμέτι μουμ χαμέτι.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt was always clear what \u003CI\u003Emoukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E meant: Μουχαμέτης was the colloquial rendering of \u003Ci\u003EMuhammad\u003C\/i\u003E in Greek—although now that few Greek speakers know any Muslims, Muhammad for them has retreated to the Puristic safety of Μωάμεθ. An indirect confirmation is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39051\"\u003Egiven by commenter LandS\u003C\/a\u003E: the Constantinopolitans he has heard pronounce the expression as αμέτιμουhαμέτι, with the [h] of Turkish \u003Ci\u003EMuhammed\u003C\/i\u003E. Orfanos finds the same [h] in the Greek–French dictionary by Ipitis (see end of this post).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo it was clear that the phrase is Muslim—and presumably Ottoman Turkish in origin; but it wasn't clear what it meant. \u003Ci\u003EAmeti Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E, we can be reasonably sure, is not how the expression started off in Turkish. The Persian loan \u003Ci\u003Eamed\u003C\/i\u003E \"he came\" was used to mean\"arrival; income; import\", as \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-40258\"\u003ETasos Kaplanis found\u003C\/a\u003E; so \u003Ci\u003EAmed Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E could mean \"Muhammad is coming\"—if we assume that Turkish-speakers had completely forgotten how the syntax of their own language worked. But, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-40258\"\u003Eas Diver of Sinks concludes\u003C\/a\u003E, that is hardly a plausible explanation.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUnfortunately, Greek dictionaries don't check their Turkish particularly carefully when giving etymologies; so a phantom Turkish word \u003Ci\u003Eamet\u003C\/i\u003E has ended up in the \u003Ca href=\"με αβεβαιότητα όμως\"\u003ETriantaphyllides Institute Dictionary's etymology\u003C\/a\u003E. Several etymologies were proposed in the discussion of the first post:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eamet muhabbet\u003C\/i\u003E, \"(ghost word) friendly chat\" (?!) (Triantaphyllides Institute)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eadet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E, \"custom of Muhammad\" (Diver of Sinks, cited in Sarantakos' \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\"\u003Efirst post\u003C\/a\u003E, though he admits never seeing such an expression)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eadet-i mukaddem\u003C\/I\u003E \"longstanding custom\", \"legal precedent\" (Diver of Sinks: a commonplace expression, which may have been conflated with the actual etymology)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Emed Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E \"extension, Muhammad\" (Sarantakos, trying to explain an earlier form of the expression, μετ Μουχαμέτ; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39138\"\u003ENikiplos\u003C\/a\u003E, reinterpreting it as \"lineage of Muhammad\")\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Emeded-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E \"aid of Muhammad\" (Diver of Sinks correcting Sarantakos, and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39140\"\u003Eunconvinced by Nikiplos' proposal\u003C\/a\u003E; \u003Ci\u003Emed\u003C\/i\u003E is a rare and learnèd word)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAlbanian \u003Ci\u003Eme Muhammedi\u003C\/i\u003E \"with Muhammad\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39052\"\u003EIlefoufoutos\u003C\/a\u003E, not confidently either)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut we will go with \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E \"Nation of Muslims\", given in the 2nd edition of the Babiniotis dictionary, and before it in Pamboukis' \u003Ci\u003ETurkish lexicon of Modern Greek\u003C\/i\u003E (Παμπούκης Ι.Τ. 1988. \u003Ci\u003EΤουρκικό λεξιλόγιο της νέας ελληνικής\u003C\/i\u003E, Vol. 1, ed. Κ. Γ. Κασίνης, Athens: Παπαζήσης, p. 152.) Sarantakos' first post was inconclusive, which is why commentors were still suggesting other explanations, although \"Nation of Muslims\" was accepted as the likeliest. It was Orfanos' post, with its extensive examples, that swayed readers to accept it as the etymology.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eümmet\u003C\/i\u003E is how the expression shows up at its earliest, as Orfanos found, as ουμέτι and ιμέτι (since Modern Greek, unlike Attic, Albanian, and Turkish, does not have an [y] sound). But \u003Ci\u003Eümmet\u003C\/i\u003E sounds nothing like αμέτι, so some word must have intervened to lead Greek speakers astray. The earliest users of the expression that Orfanos found were either Muslims, or Ottoman subjects well acquainted with Turkish (Pontians); but αμέτι was already being used in song in 1825. The possible interference on \u003Ci\u003Eümmet\u003C\/i\u003E to produce \u003Ci\u003Eameti\u003C\/i\u003E include:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eadet-i mukaddem\u003C\/I\u003E \"longstanding custom\", \"legal precedent\" (Diver of Sinks; a possibility, since Ottoman legal precedent would have seem as unreasonable insistence to Christian Ottoman subjects—but that implies that the Greek speakers who mangled the expression understood legal Ottoman Turkish just fine, which seems odd to me.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Emeded-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E \"aid of Muhammad\" (Diver of Sinks; would explain the attested old variant μετ Μουχαμέτ, but not \u003Ci\u003Eameti\u003C\/I\u003E; at any case, Muslims call on Allah's aid, not Muhammad's.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eαμέτε \"go on!\" (Commenter \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39029\"\u003EΆναυδος [\"Speechless\"]\u003C\/a\u003E, very tentatively—so tentatively, he may not have realised he was proposing it; but I find the notion compelling. Tasos Kaplanis \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59516\"\u003Eliked it too\u003C\/a\u003E.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe proper name \u003Ci\u003EAhmed\u003C\/i\u003E (Commenter \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39040\"\u003EStrabo of Amasea\u003C\/a\u003E—and independently Fauriel, who rendered the expression in French as \u003Ci\u003EAhmet! Mahomet!\u003C\/i\u003E, in 1825. Diver of Sinks \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/#comment-39052\"\u003Ehad rejected the possibility\u003C\/a\u003E, since he has never seen the two names of Ahmad and Muhammad together.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ERhyme with \u003Ci\u003E(Μουχ)αμέτη\u003C\/i\u003E \"Muhammad\" (Orfanos, and the temptation to make the alien warcry into a singsong rhyme is the most plausible explanation.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΜα το Μουχαμέτη \"By Muhammad!\" (Orfanos, to explain not the sound of αμέτι μουχαμέτι, but the semantics it has picked up, as a commitment to do something.)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOrfanos in his treatise \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59551\"\u003Egoes through sources available through Google\u003C\/a\u003E (including the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/anemi.lib.uoc.gr\/\"\u003EAnemi digital library of Modern Greek Studies\u003C\/a\u003E and the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/openarchives.gr\/\"\u003EOpen Archives\u003C\/a\u003E federated search of Greek digital libraries); he supplemented these with visits to the library of the City of Herakleion and of the University of Crete at Rethymnon. What is notable about his survey is that it includes examples from clearly Muslim Greek, in which the expression had its original meaning.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm using Orfanos' examples for the same purpose as he did, to illustrate how the change happened. There's 19 of them, and I'm going to just list them here, with commentary. But I'm going to delay tracing what happened overall till a later post.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdl\u003E\u003CDT\u003E(1) Poem on the birth of the prophet Muhammad, translation from the Turkish by a Cretan Muslim (18th century):\u003Cbr \/\u003EΤον κύριο παρακάλεσαν να κάμη μερχαμέτι\u003Cbr \/\u003EΚαι να τους κάμη ολουνούς του Μουχαμέτ’ ουμμέτι\u003Cbr \/\u003EThey begged the Lord to show compassion,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand to make them all \u003CI\u003EMoukhamet\u003C\/I\u003E's \u003Ci\u003Eoumeti\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EThis is the literal meaning of \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammad\u003C\/i\u003E as \"members of the Muslim community\", and the expression is fully assimilated into the Greek of the poem: ουμμέτι has been borrowed as a noun, and Μουχαμέτ' is preceded by a genitive article, so that του Μουχαμέτ’ ουμμέτι is syntactically Greek (although the word order is still copied across from Turkish).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(2) Folk song on the destruction of the cathedral of Trebizond. (So described by Papadopoulos-Kerameus, but this is clearly a written poem, with Puristic in it.) (Cathedral destroyed 1665; manuscript written 1811):\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτο βρωμερόν του [στόμα] άνοιξεν [ο μουφτής] και τον υιόν του κράζει·\u003Cbr \/\u003E«Γλήγορα δράμε στο τσαρσί, τους Τούρκους όλους λάλει·\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμικροί μεγάλοι, όλοι τους –­ ουμέτι Μουαμέτη –­\u003Cbr \/\u003Eας δράμουν στην μητρόπολι να κάμωμεν  το φέτι».\u003Cbr \/\u003Eευθύς αυτοί, σαν τἄκουσαν, μετά χαράς πηδούσι·\u003Cbr \/\u003Eωσάν θηρία άγρια τρέχουν και πιλαλούσι.\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαβαλλικεύει και αυτός έτζι  δαιμονισμένος,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eφωνάζοντας «Να δράμετε, του Μωαμέτη γένος».\u003Cbr \/\u003E[The mufti] open his filthy [mouth] and called his son:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"Quickly run to the market, tell all the 'Turks' [Muslims]:\u003Cbr \/\u003Eyoung and old, all of them—\u003Ci\u003Eoumeti Mouameti\u003C\/i\u003E—\u003Cbr \/\u003Eshould run to the cathedral so we can subjugate it.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003EImmediately on hearing this they gladly leap,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ethey run and rush like savage beasts.\u003Cbr \/\u003EHe too rode his horse, possessed,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eshouting: \"Run, nation of Muhammad.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EThe poem renders \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E in both Turkish and Greek, so its author knew what the expression meant in Turkish. This is the first instance of \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/I\u003E as a war cry.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(3) \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Alipashiad\"\u003EAlipashiad\u003C\/a\u003E, a poem written in praise of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Ali_Pasha\"\u003EAli Pasha\u003C\/a\u003E by the Muslim Hatzi Sekhretis (Haxhi Shehreti) (before 1817):\u003Cbr \/\u003EΑλήπασας σαν τ’ άνοιξε και βλέπει το φερμάνι,\u003Cbr \/\u003EΛίγο γκιδέρι ’ς την καρδιά αρχίνησε και βάνει.\u003Cbr \/\u003E«Ορίστε, λεγ’ Αλήπασας, ιμέτι Μουχαμέτη,\u003Cbr \/\u003EΧαΐρι δεν εχούμε ’μεις εφέτ’ απ’ το ντουβλέτι.»\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhen Ali Pasha opened and saw the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Firman_(decree)\"\u003Efirman\u003C\/a\u003E,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ehe had a little sorrow in his heart:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"See,\" Ali Pasha says, \"\u003Ci\u003Eimeti Moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ewe're not seeing any joy from the government this year!\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EClearly this has nothing to do with stubborness; Ali Pasha is figuratively addressing the Nation of Muhammad (\u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E), his fellow Muslims, and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/William_Martin_Leake\"\u003ELeake\u003C\/a\u003E, in paraphrasing the poem, says that \"Alý exclaims on receiving this answer, 'We have no satisfaction this year from the government'.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo make sense of the use of \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E, Orfanos refers to Kieffer \u0026amp; Bianchi's 1850 French–Turkish dictionary: «امّت  محمّد  يوقم  \u003Ci\u003Eummeti mouhhamed ioqmi\u003C\/i\u003E. N’y a-t-il plus de religion mahométane? (Cri de détresse ou de révolte.)» (That is: \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed yokmı?\u003C\/i\u003E \"Is there no nation of Muhammad?\" (Cry of distress or revolt). Or, as Orfanos puts it, \"There goes our faith! There are no proper Muslims left!\": as the Alipashiad goes on to say, \u003Cbr \/\u003Eνα ξέρετε μας μάγεψαν της Φράντζας οι διαβόλοι\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαι γνώσι δεν απόμεινε του βασιλιά στην Μπόλι.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"You should know that the devils of France have put a spell on us,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand there is no wisdom left with the king in the City [= the Sultan in Istanbul].\"\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere is evidence for a similar expression addressed by Muslims to Christians in folksong: \"What are you doing, Christians! Are you not baptised?\" (i.e. you are acting like pagans, you are acting indecently); Αν είστε βαφτισμένοι! \"if you are baptised!\" is still used as an exclamation of incredulity in Crete. Cf. the use of \u003Ci\u003Elosing my religion\u003C\/i\u003E in the Southern U.S., which \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2010\/07\/gtage-losing-ones-religion.html\"\u003EI commented on\u003C\/a\u003E with relation to slang.gr's Είδε το Χριστό φαντάρο \"He saw Christ as a conscript\": in a religious world, losing religion truly was considered equivalent to going insane.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(4) Alipashiad: \u003Cbr \/\u003EΤ’ ασκέρι του Βελήπασα πήρε να γονατίση,\u003Cbr \/\u003E’Σ τον ντιν ντουσμάνη πολεμά τον [sic] πλάτη να γυρίση.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΚι ο Σιλικτάρης φώναξε· “ιμέτι, Μωχαμέτη,\u003Cbr \/\u003E’Σ τον ντιν ντουσμάνη σήμερα να κάμωμεν γαϊρέτι.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΝα βγούμε μ’ άσπρο πρόσωπον σ’ ετούτο το σεφέρι,\u003Cbr \/\u003EΑπάνω τους να πέσωμεν με το σπαθί ’σ το χέρι.\u003Cbr \/\u003EVeli Pasha's army was starting to capitulate,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eit was trying to turn its back to the infidel enemy.\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd the adjutant cried: \"\u003Ci\u003Eimeti, Mokhameti\u003C\/i\u003E,\u003Cbr \/\u003Etoday against the infidel enemy we shall show endurance.\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe shall acquit ourselves bravely in this expedition,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand fall on them with swords in our hands.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EThis is the usual war cry appealing to the faithful, rather than Ali Pasha's rhetorical agnosticism.\u003Cbr \/\u003E(Among the Turcisms of Haxhi Shehreti, I'd like to point out σεφέρι \"war, expedition\". English has the same word for expedition, from Arabic. Via Swahili. As \u003Ci\u003Esafari\u003C\/i\u003E.)\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn both Haxhi Shehreti's examples, \u003Ci\u003Eümmet\u003C\/I\u003E is rendered as \u003Ci\u003Eimeti\u003C\/i\u003E instead of the expected \u003Ci\u003Eumeti\u003C\/i\u003E. Commenter Mikhalios \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59440\"\u003Eexplains this by appealing to\u003C\/a\u003E Haxhi Shehreti's Albanian background: Albanian \/y\/ is rendered in the Greek of Epirus as \/i\/. Hence \u003Ci\u003Egryka\u003C\/I\u003E \"dale\", which appears as the local place name Γκρίκα\/Γκρύκα \/ɡrika\/, and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Omer_Vrioni\"\u003EÖmer Vrioni\u003C\/a\u003E, who Haxhi Shehreti refers to as Ιμέρ Πασάς \"Imer Pasha\", via Albanian \u003Ci\u003EYmer\u003C\/i\u003E. Haxhi Shehreti used \/imeti muxameti\/ in Greek, because he said \u003Ci\u003EO ymmeti Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E in Albanian.\u003Cbr \/\u003E…And let's make sure you get what happened with Ömer\/Omer\/Ymer Vrioni:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ETurkish has \/œ y u i\/. Albanian has \/y\/ but not \/œ\/. Greek has neither \/y\/ nor \/œ\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe Arabic name \u003Ci\u003E'Umar, Omar\u003C\/i\u003E ends up in Turkish as \u003Ci\u003EÖmer\u003C\/i\u003E \/œmer\/, because of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Vowel_harmony\"\u003Evowel harmony\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EGreek has no rounded front vowels;  a medial Turkish \/œ\/ is rendered as \/jo\/: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Karag%C3%B6z_and_Hacivat\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EKaragöz\u003C\/I\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E \u0026gt; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Karagiozis\"\u003EΚαραγκιόζης\u003C\/a\u003E \/karagjozis\/. I can't find a good example of a Turkish word starting with \/œ\/ ending up in Modern Greek, but rendering it as \/o\/ was clearly an option. So Ομέρ \/omer\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAlbanian does not have \/œ\/, but it had the option of rendering the mid front rounded vowel as a mid front vowel, \/o\/, or a rounded front vowel, \/y\/. It picked the rounded vowel: \u003Ci\u003EYmer\u003C\/i\u003E \/ymer\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBut the Greek of Epirus borrows Albanian \/y\/ as \/i\/, and not as \/u, ju\/ as in the rest of Greek. So Ομέρ in the Alipashiad is Ιμέρ \/imer\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(5) Ioannes Nathanail, Ευβοϊκά (1858, incident occuured in 1821):\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμετά δε την σύσκεψιν αναστάντες ο Ομέρ Βρυών Πασάς και ο Ομέρμπεης ίππευσαν και περιήρχοντο [στη Χαλκίδα] από οικίας εις οικίαν μετά θυροκρούστου· και ο μεν έκρουεν την θύρα, οι δε έσωθεν απεκρίνοντο “κιμ ντιρ”· ο δε έξωθεν ”αμέτ Μωαμέτ, αύριον να ήσθε έτοιμοι, θα πάμε εις τα Βρυσάκια κατά των κλεφτών”. \u003Cbr \/\u003EAfter their meeting Ömer Vrioni Pasha and Ömer Bey rode their horses, and wandered from house to house with a door knocker. The door knocker knocked on the door, and those inside would answer: \u003Ci\u003EKimdir?\u003C\/i\u003E [Who is it?] Those outside said: \"\u003Ci\u003Eamet Moamet\u003C\/i\u003E, be ready tomorrow, we will go to Vrysakia against the brigands.\" \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EÖmer is literally answering the question \"who is there\" with the answer \"[we are of the] Nation of Muhammad\", namely, \"we are Muslims\". This is not necessarily a warcry; but note that forty years on, Nathanail has already garbled \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E into \u003Ci\u003Eamet Moamet\u003C\/i\u003E—so he has turned the expression into \u003Ci\u003Eameti muxameti\u003C\/i\u003E, even if the \"hell or high water\" meaning isn't there yet.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(6) Folk song on Georgakis and Farmakis, published by \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Claude_Fauriel\"\u003EClaude Fauriel\u003C\/a\u003E (1825):\u003Cbr \/\u003EΈνας πασάς αγνάντευεν πέρα από του Σέκου.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΨηλήν φωνήν εσήκωσεν· «Αμέτη, Μωαμέτη!\u003Cbr \/\u003EΠιάστε τον τόπον δυνατά, ζώστε το μοναστήρι.»\u003Cbr \/\u003EA pasha was keeping watch beyond Sekos.\u003Cbr \/\u003EHe cried out with a shrill voice: \"\u003Ci\u003EAmeti Moameti\u003C\/i\u003E!\u003Cbr \/\u003EFortify the place boldly: surround the monastery.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003ERendered by Fauriel as \u003Ci\u003EAhmet! Mahomet!\u003C\/i\u003E: \u003Ci\u003EMais un pacha était en observation de l’autre côté de Sékos – «Ahmet! Mahomet!» se met-il à crier d’ une voix haute; – emparez-vous bravement des postes; entourez le monastère.\u003C\/i\u003E This is the first evidence that someone did not understand the expression, and it may not just have been the visiting Frenchman.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(7) Letter by Field Marshal \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Theodoros_Kolokotronis\"\u003ETheodoros Kolokotronis\u003C\/a\u003E to the government (1827):\u003Cbr \/\u003Eη έφοδος αύτη των εχθρών […] οίτινες τυφοίς όμμασι, και με το αμέτ μουχαμέτ ώρμησαν κατά των ιδικών μας, μη δειλιάσαντες ολοτελώς τον θάνατον όπου ελάμβανον.\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis attack by the enemies […] who with blind eyes and an \"\u003Ci\u003EAmet Moukhamet\u003C\/i\u003E\" rushed onto our men, not at all fearing the death they were being dealt.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EClearly a reference to the warcry, now nominalised.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(8) Lambros Koutsonikas, \u003Ci\u003EGeneral History of the Greek Revolution\u003C\/i\u003E (1863, events of 1821–1827)\u003Cbr \/\u003E[…] αλαλάζοντες δε εφώναζαν οι βάρβαροι μετ Μουχαμέτ εμπρός (δια της ισχύος του Μωάμεθ) και έτρεχαν ως οι τετυφλωμένοι χοίροι, χωρίς να βλέπουν έμπροσθέν των.\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand the barbarians screamed, shouting \"\u003Ci\u003Emet Moukhamet\u003C\/i\u003E onwards\" (through the power of Muhammad), and ran like blinded swine, without looking in front of them.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EHere and in the following, the expression is a war cry, but in the variant form \u003Ci\u003Emet muxamet\u003C\/i\u003E. The variant led commenters to speculate on alternate derivations for the expression, but they have not come up again since, and may well be a mishearing by Koutsonikas.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(9) Koutsonikas (1863, events of 1821–1827)\u003Cbr \/\u003E[Οι Τούρκοι] ώρμησαν ως σμίνος επί του μεγάλου πύργου και εφώναξαν «ορέ ποιος είναι εδώ μέσα» οι δε απεκρίθησαν, «Σουλιώται είναι ορέ τούρκοι με τον Κουτσονίκα, και αν αγαπάτε κοπιάστε». Ακούσαντες δε οι βάρβαροι εφώναξαν «Μετ Μουχαμέτ, επάνω τους» και αμέσως ώρμησαν κατά του πύργου.\u003Cbr \/\u003E[The Turks] swarmed at the great tower, and shouted: \"Hey! Who's in here?\" And they replied: \"Hey, Turks! It's Souliotes under Koutsonikas here; and if you feel up to it, come over.\" When the barbarians heard this, they shouted: \"\u003Ci\u003EMet Moukhamet\u003C\/i\u003E, attack them,\" and they rushed at the tower immediately.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EAgain, explicitly a war cry.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(10) Folk song \u003CI\u003ESiege of Messolonghi\u003C\/i\u003E (published 1874, events of 1825)\u003Cbr \/\u003EΌλοι τους ωρκισθήκανε αμέτι Μουχαμέτη,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eστο Μεσολόγγι να εμβούν, να κάμουν κιαμέτι .\u003Cbr \/\u003EΗμέρα των Χριστουγεννών προ τού να ξημερώση·\u003Cbr \/\u003EΑλλάχ, Αλλάχ! εφώναξαν, κη έκαμαν το γιουρούσι·\u003Cbr \/\u003EThey all swore \u003Ci\u003EAmeti Moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eto enter Messolonghi and cause havoc.\u003Cbr \/\u003EBefore the dawn of Christmas Day,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ethey shouted \"Allah! Allah!\" and launched the raid.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003ELegrand's translation: \u003Ci\u003ETous ont juré par Mahomet d’entrer dans Missolongi pour y faire de déluge. Le jour de Noel, avant l’aurore, il ont crié Allah! Allah! Et ont donné l’assaut.\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis example has been published late, so it does not necessarily mean the reanalysis to \"at any cost\" had happened in 1825. But it does allow both interpretations: they swore, (saying) \"Nation of Muhammad!\"—that they would enter Messolonghi; or they swore that at any cost they would enter Messolonghi. Orfanos highlights this and the next instances as the first time when the war cry conveys an explicit undertaking to do something—which is necessary for the subsequent interpretation of unreasonable insistence. Legrand's translation, \"they all swore by Muhammad\", is clearly guesswork.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(11) Cretan folksong on the death of the rebel Xopateras (1828):\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκι εφτά αγαδάκια ήσφαξε, τσι κεφαλές τως παίρνει.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΣτο Γιόφυρο τσι τσίτωσε κι έκαμε μπαϊράκι\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκι οι Τούρκοι τσι θωρούσανε κι επίνανε φαρμάκι.\u003Cbr \/\u003E«Σούμπα Αλλάχ» φωνιάζανε κι «Αμέτη Μουχαμέτη»\u003Cbr \/\u003Eνα πα’ να πχιάσου ν-το μ-παπά, να ησυχάσει η Κρήτη.\u003Cbr \/\u003EHe killed seven lords, he took of their heads.\u003Cbr \/\u003EHe impaled them in Giofyros [near Herakleion] and raised his banner.\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe Turks saw them and were envenomed.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"Glory to Allah\" they cried and \"\u003Ci\u003EAmeti Moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E\":\u003Cbr \/\u003Ethey would go seize the priest, to calm Crete down.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003ELiterally, these are just war cries in response to the Christian massacre; but Orfanos notes that this too sounds in context like the modern meaning: \"at any cost, they would go seize the priest\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(12) Stefanos Xenos, \u003Ci\u003EΗ Κιβδηλεία\u003C\/i\u003E, Vol. 1, London, p. 11 (1859)\u003Cbr \/\u003Eαλλά ο Γαρδικιότης είναι Αμέτ Μουαμέτ κατά του στραβού, και κατά βεβαιώτητα μας δίδει δεν θα τον αφύση προς ικανοποίησιν αυτού εις Σμύρνην τον στραβόν\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut Gardikiotis is \u003Ci\u003EAmet Mouamet\u003C\/i\u003E opposed to the blind man, and he assures us that he will not give the blind man the satisfaction of remaining in Smyrna\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EOrfanos believes this is an intermediate sense between the war cry and the notion of unreasonable insistence: where the modern use is adverbial, this is adjectival, and it means \"to be a sworn enemy of, to have spite towards\". Tasos Kaplanis however \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/#comment-59516\"\u003Ethinks this is the modern usage\u003C\/a\u003E, unmodified: \"he is, come hell or high water, against the blind man.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(13) Report in the newspaper \u003Ci\u003EAeon\u003C\/i\u003E on the destruction of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Arkadi_Monastery\"\u003EArkadi monastery\u003C\/a\u003E (1867)\u003Cbr \/\u003EΟ Μουσταφάς, περικυκλωμένος υπό των λοιπών πασάδων, ομιλεί, αφρίζει και με το αλβανικόν του πείσμα κραυγάζει. “Αμέτ-Μουαμέτ θα τους κάψουμε!”\u003Cbr \/\u003EMustafa, surrounded by the other pashas, speaks, foams at the mouth, and shouts with his Albanian obstinacy: \"\u003Ci\u003EAmet-Mouamet\u003C\/i\u003E we will burn them down!\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EA war cry, but straightforwardly interpreted as a commitment, \"at any cost\". Stubbornness is the ethnic stereotype in Modern Greece of Arvanites; I have no reason to doubt the same stereotype was extended to their Muslim fellow–Albanian-speakers.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(14) Cretan folksong on the death of the rebel Pavlos Dedidakis (1867):\u003Cbr \/\u003Eοι Τούρκοι απού το φόβο τους, αλάχ! αλάχ! φωνιάζου,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτο Μουχαμέτη για να ρθη να τσοι βουηθήση κράζου·\u003Cbr \/\u003EΡεσίτ Πασάς εφώνιαξεν αμέτη μουχαμέτη!\u003Cbr \/\u003EΌπου κι αν επολέμησα δεν είδ’ ετσά σικλέτη.\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe Turks were so scared, they cried \"Allah! Allah!\"\u003Cbr \/\u003EThey shouted for Muhammad to come help them;\u003Cbr \/\u003EReshid Pasha shouted: \"\u003Ci\u003EAmeti Moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E!\u003Cbr \/\u003EWherever I have fought, I have never seen such sorrow!\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EOrfanos notes that as the power balance between Muslims and Christians shifted in Crete, \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E in Christian folksong went from a show of strength to a cry of despair from the now weakened Muslims. I don't see such pleading in the 1828 Xopateras song, but it is clear in this song—along with the misconstrual of Muhammad's role as an intercessor: the Christians were on the rise, notwithstanding their defeat in the 1866 rebellion, and no longer had to care about details of Islamic theology. This pleading, of course, cannot have given rises to αμέτι μουχαμέτι indicating obstinacy: that sense predates this.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(15) Song about Marigo Lambrakis in Archanes, Crete (1897):\u003Cbr \/\u003EΚαι τότε φόβος τσοι ’πιασε μέσα εις την καρδία.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΟ Σουβαρής εφώναξε Αμέτη Μουχαμέτη\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτων Αρχανών ο πόλεμος δεν έχει μερχαμέτι\u003Cbr \/\u003EThen fear seized them in their hearts.\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe messenger shouted \"\u003Ci\u003EAmeti Moukhameti\u003C\/i\u003E,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ethe war of Archanes has no mercy.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EAs with the 1867 song, this is now a cry of despair rather than a rallying cry.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(16) Cretan song about the death of Tryfitsos (1897):\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαι οι μπουρμάδες λέγανε αμέτι μου χαμέτι\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαι ο Τρυφίτσος είν κιοσές που μας-ε παίζει μπέτι\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd the converts [= Muslim Cretans] said: \"\u003Ci\u003EAmeti mou khameti\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand Tryfitsos is the one who is firing at our chests.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003ESame story as the previous two songs. Whoever transcribed the song (Sarantakos doesn't give a citation) did not work out the connection with Muhammad, and split the word up—as many contemporary Greeks do. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(17) \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Alexandros_Papadiamantis\"\u003EAlexandros Papadiamantis\u003C\/a\u003E, Οι χαλασοχώρηδες (1892)\u003Cbr \/\u003EΑλλά την φοράν ταύτην ο Αλικιάδης είχεν απόφασιν, “Αμέτ Μουαμέτ”, να βάλη τη δουλειά εμπρός. Α! δεν τον εγελούσαν αυτόν με το σήμερα και με το αύριο οι εργολάβοι.\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut this time Alikiadis had decided, \u003Ci\u003EAmet Mouamet\u003C\/i\u003E, to go ahead with the venture. Oh, the contractors were not going to get the better of him with their \"todays\" and \"tomorrows\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EThis is the modern meaning of αμέτι μουχαμέτι, though its pronunciation is still closer to \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(18) Alexandros Papadiamantis, Τα δύο τέρατα (1909)\u003Cbr \/\u003EΟ γερο-Μακρής ο Βαβδινός, σεβάσμιος τοκογλύφος, είχε κατέλθει εις τον εκλογικόν αγώνα και το είχεν αμέτ Μωαμέτ, να γίνη δήμαρχος.\u003Cbr \/\u003EOld Makris Vavdinos, a reverend usurer, had entered into the electoral fray and had it \u003Ci\u003Eamet Moamet\u003C\/i\u003E to become mayor.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EThe expression now finally is associated with  a verb, το είχε \"he had it...\", as it is in contempotorary Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E(19) Antonios Ipitis, \u003Ci\u003EΛεξικόν ελληνο-γαλλικόν και γαλλο-ελληνικόν\u003C\/i\u003E (Greek–French Dictionary) (1908)\u003Cbr \/\u003E«αμέτι-μουhαμέτι [δημ.] εκ προμελέτης, avec préméditation, ήρθε αμέτι μουhαμέτι να μαλώση =  ήλθεν εκ προμελέτης ίνα ερίση»\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eameti-mouhameti\u003C\/i\u003E (vernac.) \"with premeditation\": he came \u003Ci\u003Eameti-mouhameti\u003C\/i\u003E to fight = \"he came with premeditation to conflict\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E\u003Cp\u003EExplicit confirmation of the generalisation of the expression. Note the Turkish use of [h] rather than [x].\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/dl\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EYes, it's a long list, and I need to take a breather...\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/764117749397846799\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/come-hell-or-high-water.html#comment-form","title":"15 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/764117749397846799"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/764117749397846799"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/come-hell-or-high-water.html","title":"αμέτι μουχαμέτι, \"Come Hell or High Water\""}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"15"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-5966277462080570429"},"published":{"$t":"2011-03-02T04:23:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2017-02-26T15:02:43.164+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"etymology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"semantics"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"άμε and άντε: Semantics Persistence in Modern Greek hortative particles"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Vasilis Orfanos wrote a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/02\/21\/ametibasorf\/\"\u003Emagisterial post on αμέτι μουχαμέτι\u003C\/a\u003E, which I alluded to \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/metonymy-and-metaphor-in-language.html\"\u003Elast post\u003C\/a\u003E, and which am using to base the next post on. (Or maybe the post after that.) To acknowledge my debt, this is a post on a topic he requested from me a few weeks back. The topic in turn is in response to an \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2010\/06\/turkish-etymology-for-both-and.html\"\u003Eearlier post I wrote\u003C\/a\u003E on the etymology of α σιχτίρ, which involves a particle meaning \"go!\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe post is about two of the four particles of Modern Greek meaning \"go!\", άμε and ά(ι)ντε. (άντε is the Standard form, but άιντε appears to be older.) Orfanos thinks that he has identified a nuance distinguishing the meaning of the two—particularly in older texts. I have the subjective impression that there is a different (though related) nuance distinguishing between them. I'm interested in hearing whether other Greek-speakers pick up on those nuances; and I'll propose (in my typical irresponsible way) that those nuances can be explained through persistence.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Persistence_(linguistics)\"\u003E\u003Cb\u003EPersistence\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E is a property that has been claimed of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Grammaticalisation\"\u003Egrammaticalisation\u003C\/a\u003E—the process where content words turn into function words. But persistence can be said to apply in semantic change in general, and it's not a particularly surprising concept. The claim of persistence is that, when a word changes function and starts playing a new role, that some components of the meaning of the old word persist, and are inherited by the word in its new role.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo take one example: the \u003Ci\u003Egoing to\/gonna\u003C\/i\u003E future started off with a verb indicating motion towards; the \u003Ci\u003Ewill\u003C\/i\u003E future started off with a verb indicating desire; the \u003Ci\u003Eshall\u003C\/i\u003E future started off with a verb indicating obligation. The notion of moving towards a goal with \u003Ci\u003Egoing to\u003C\/i\u003E in its new function as a future marker—as Bybee \u0026amp; Pagliuca have argued; for example, in its stronger emphasis of preexisting intention, and on the apparent inevitability of the future event, in contrast to \u003Ci\u003Ewill\u003C\/i\u003E futures.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EBybee, Joan L. \u0026amp; Pagliuca, W. 1987. The evolution of future meaning. \u003Ci\u003EPapers from the 7th International Conference on Historical Linguistics\u003C\/i\u003E. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. 247–264. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/semanticsarchive.net\/Archive\/TIwYjQ1Z\/RT_grammaticalization.pdf\"\u003EThis paper by Steve Nicolle\u003C\/a\u003E has a couple of examples from them towards the end.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo take a more concrete example: in many languages, a verb for \"take\" ends up being an accusative marker: \"he takes a stick, breaks (it)\" ends up interpreted as \"he, (accusative) a stick, breaks\"; that has happened in the African language \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Akan_language\"\u003ETwi\u003C\/a\u003E, with the verb-turned-particle \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EExample from Lord, Carol. 1993. \u003Ci\u003EHistorical change in serial verb constructions.\u003C\/i\u003E Amsterdam: John Benjamins.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow, \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/i\u003E has a seemingly arbitrary restriction, that you can only use it before objects that already exist: you cannot use if for an object that the verb brings into being. You can say \"he \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/i\u003E fire brought to his brother\", but you can't say \"he \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/i\u003E letter wrote to me\". With persistence, though, the restriction makes sense: you can only take things if they already exist. You can take a fire and bring it to your brother, but you can't take a letter and *then* write it to your brother. \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/i\u003E in its new function is merely continuing to precede the kinds of objects that \"take\" precedes.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's our linguistic theory; let's see how we can apply it. Our two particles, άμε and άντε, look like imperatives. They look so much like imperatives, that they have plural counterparts: άμε \"you (singular) go!\" has a plural αμέτε—which we're about to run into again in connection with αμέτι Μουχαμέτι. άιντε also has a plural άιντεστε. Both plurals are slightly odd: the regular plurals should have been άμετε (which apparently exists, though I've never heard it), and *άντετε. I can guess why they look like they do, but the plurals aren't the point of the article.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(For the record though, my guess is: *άγωμε-τε \u0026gt; *άγωμέτε \u0026gt; αμέτε, and άντε \u0026gt; άντες \u0026gt; άντεστε by analogy with βγες \u0026gt; βγέστε. I see the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=2521\u0026target_dict=1\"\u003ETriandaphyllides Institute dictionary thinks\u003C\/a\u003E instead αμέτε is accented by analogy with ελάτε \"come!\"; *shrug* maybe.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, the plurals are Modern Greek linguistic creativity: the two words άμε and άντε look like singular imperatives (they end in \u003Ci\u003E-e\u003C\/i\u003E), and they act like imperatives (πήγαινε στο πηγάδι \"go to the well\", άμε\/άντε στο πηγάδι \"go! to the well\"). But historically they are not imperatives at all.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eάμε originates in the Ancient 1st person plural subjunctive ἄγωμεν, \"let us lead!\" = \"let us go!\". (The switch from \"lead\" to \"go\" for ἄγωμεν in particular is already in the New Testament: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/bible.cc\/mark\/1-38.htm\"\u003EMark 1:38\u003C\/a\u003E \"Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages\", ἄγωμεν ἀλλαχοῦ εἰς τὰς ἐχομένας κωμοπόλεις.) In Early Modern Greek, a lot of compulsory final \/n\/'s got treated as optional, liaison \/n\/'s. That meant ἄγωμεν ended up as άγωμε, which now looked like an imperative, and could be applied to \"you\" rather than \"us\". But that's the final stage in a development that must already been underway for a long time beforehand.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe same development is underway right now for \u003Ci\u003Elet's\u003C\/i\u003E in English. Historically \u003Ci\u003Elet's\u003C\/i\u003E is \u003Ci\u003Elet us\u003C\/i\u003E, so it only refers to an action undertaken by us. But \u003Ci\u003Elet's\u003C\/i\u003E is gradually starting to be used as if the \"us\" is not there: \u003Ci\u003Elet's you and him fight\u003C\/i\u003E may be used in jest, but the seemingly redundant \u003Ci\u003Elet's you and I\u003C\/i\u003E (270,000 Google hits) clearly isn't. What's happening with \u003Ci\u003Elet's\u003C\/i\u003E is classic semantic bleaching: the \"us\" component of the meaning of \u003Ci\u003Elet's\u003C\/i\u003E is starting to fade away; the \"this should happen\" component remains.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe same looks like it has happened for ἄγωμεν: the meaning has shifted from the Classical \"let us lead!\", to Jesus' \"let's go!\", to a subsequent bleached \"someone should go\", to a refocused \"*you* should go\". The switch is certainly complete by ca. 1364, and the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.opoudjis.net\/Work\/quadrupeds.html\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EEntertaining Tale of Quadrupeds\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E, where the horse says to the donkey: ἄγωμε μὲ τὴν κάμηλον τὴν μακροσφονδυλάτην, \"go with the long-necked camel!\" (and certainly not \"let's go with the long-necked camel\": the point of the poem is pairs of animals argue about their merits, and one drives the other off the stage).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, άγωμε is pretty out of place as a vernacular verb in 1364. The verb άγω is not supposed to have survived, and a distinct present subjunctive  (άγωμε as distinct from the indicative *άγουμε) certainly should not have survived. That this subjunctive had survived this long indicates that people no longer realised it was a subjunctive at all: it was by then just a particle, like \u003Ci\u003Elet's\u003C\/i\u003E is starting to be. And as a particle, άμε was ripe for reanalysis as an imperative.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's άμε. The other particle, άιντε ~ άντε, has been derived from the same verb, tortuously, as ἄγε δή, \"go indeed!\" or ἄγετε \"you all, go!\" The proposals doesn't make phonological sense, and δή looks particularly suspicious; but they serves a greater political goal—and Brian Joseph has already lambasted them for it: \u003Cblockquote\u003EJoseph, B.D. 1985. European Hellenism and Greek Nationalism: Some Effects of Ethnocentrism on Greek Linguistic Scholarship. \u003Ci\u003EJournal of Modern Greek Studies\u003C\/i\u003E 3: 87–96. p. 91.\u003C\/blockquote\u003EA Hellenic etymology of άιντε avoids the blindingly obvious etymology of άιντε, which is Turkic: Turkish \u003Ci\u003Ehaydı\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(The \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=4398\u0026target_dict=1\"\u003ETriantaphyllides Institute etymology\u003C\/a\u003E is from άμετε \u0026gt; άμτε \u0026gt; άντε. Less insane, but I don't particularly see the plural origin as necessary; and to their credit, they also allow the derivation I think obvious.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EForms of \u003Ci\u003Ehayda\u003C\/i\u003E \"go!\" turn up not only in Turkish \u003Ci\u003Ehayda ~ haydı\u003C\/i\u003E, but also Crimean Turkish \u003Ci\u003Ehayde\u003C\/i\u003E, and Tatar \u003Ci\u003Eaida\u003C\/i\u003E \"interjection of encouragement\", \u003Ci\u003Eeyde\u003C\/i\u003E \"listen! faster! go ahead!\" They also turn up throughout the Balkans—as well as Russian and Czech, thanks to the Tatars and not the Greeks:  Russian (г)айда \u003Ci\u003E(g)ajda\u003C\/I\u003E, Czech \u003Ci\u003Ehajdy\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe etymology of \u003Ci\u003Ehaydı\u003C\/I\u003E is not settled. If it breaks down as \u003Ci\u003Ehay + da\u003C\/I\u003E, \u003Ci\u003E(h)ay\u003C\/i\u003E could be either the interjection \u003Ci\u003E(h)ay\u003C\/i\u003E \"ah!\", associated with compassion, terror, nostalgia or a call to attention; \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/i\u003E would then be the particle \u003Ci\u003Ede\u003C\/I\u003E, expressing impatience (which Modern Greek knows as ντε, and which corresponds to Yiddish-flavoured \u003Ci\u003Ealright already\u003C\/i\u003E). But while \u003Ci\u003Ehay de\u003C\/i\u003E would explain \u003Ci\u003Ehaydı\u003C\/I\u003E through vowel harmony, it wouldn't explain \u003Ci\u003Ehayda\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELess problematically, \u003Ci\u003Ehaydı\u003C\/I\u003E could originate from the verb \u003Ci\u003Eayda\u003C\/I\u003E \"to drive animals; to steal animals away from their owner\". That verb has a much further spread into Asia, all the way to \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Tuva\"\u003ETuva\u003C\/a\u003E (Chagatai and Uighur \u003Ci\u003Ehaida\u003C\/i\u003E, Tuvan \u003Ci\u003Eaida\u003C\/i\u003E, Tatar \u003Ci\u003Eayda, eyde\u003C\/i\u003E, Crimean Turkish \u003CI\u003Eaida\u003C\/i\u003E, Turkish \u003Ci\u003Ehayda\u003C\/i\u003E, Kazakh \u003Ci\u003Eaida\u003C\/I\u003E, Kirghiz \u003Ci\u003Eaida\u003C\/i\u003E). Not so coincidentally, that verb has the same meaning that ἄγω originally had. And the verb may ultimately be related to the interjection \u003CI\u003Eay\u003C\/i\u003E after all: \u003Ci\u003Eayda\u003C\/i\u003E may come from \u003Ci\u003E\"ay\" la\u003C\/I\u003E, \"to shout 'hey!'\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003ETurkic data and etymologies from: Radloff, W. 1893–98. \u003Ci\u003EОпыть Словаря Тюркскихъ нарѣчій.\u003C\/i\u003E St Petersburg: Glasunoff.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThose are our etymologies: άμε from \"let's go\", a exhortion—and, more remotely, from a verb for driving cattle; άντε directly from a verb for driving cattle (and possibly influenced by a particle expressing impatience). Both were tied up three thousand years ago with driving cattle, but their more recent past, and their distinct reference to \"us\" vs \"you\", should differentiate them. That's the point I was making \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/metonymy-and-metaphor-in-language.html\"\u003Elast post\u003C\/a\u003E about metaphorical accounts of language change: what the word meant 3000 years ago is not as important for persistence as what the word meant 1500 years ago.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo given persistence, we *could* expect that άμε should be more about encouragement, and άντε more peremptory: άμε as a more positive notion, and άντε as a more negative. FWIW, I get these Google counts for a common blessing and curse with the two particles:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003Eάμε\u003Cth\u003Eάντε\u003Cth\u003ERatio\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003Eστο καλό \"to the Good\"\u003Ctd\u003E13000\u003Ctd\u003E81600\u003Ctd\u003E1:6.3\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003Eστο διάολο \"to the Devil\"\u003Ctd\u003E6150\u003Ctd\u003E56500\u003Ctd\u003E1:9.2\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENot an overwhelming difference, but it is something.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe distinction Vasilis Orfanos has observed from older Modern Greek texts and folksong is is different: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EWhen we urge someone to leave from the place we are at and to go somewhere else, we have an itinerary in mind. From the examples I have gathered, mainly from older Greek texts and folk song, it seems to me that when we use άμε we are imagining them arriving at the end of the itinerary, while when we use άντε it's their departure that dominates in our mind. Of course as the years passed, the one usage influenced the other.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn other words, άμε emphasises the destination of movement, and άντε the origin of movement. In more crude terms (and not necessarily quite the nuance Orfanos is appealing to), άμε implies \"get to X\", άντε implies \"go away from X\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf that distinction was in place, we can tell a story to explain it: given the egocentric perspective of language-speakers (which is just cognitive psychology, and not a character flaw), we want good things to happen to good people, but we want bad things to be away from us. If we're sending off both a good thing and a bad thing, we don't care where the bad thing ends up, as long as it's the hell away from us: that's the emphasis on the origin of movement, on \"go away\". The good thing, on the other hand, we want to succeed; and success is arriving where it set out to go: that's the emphasis on destination, on \"get to X\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm not overwhelmingly convinced by my argument, but it's possible. A problem is, while άμε is limited to encouragement of movement (persistence yet again, since ἄγω was a verb of movement), άντε is used quite broadly, and can also be as a word of (pleading) encouragement: \"oh, go on!\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(The range of meanings άντε can take is extraordinary, all the way to illocutionary exhortation: έξι, άντε εφτά \"six, at most seven\" is actually literally \"six—oh, go on then, seven\", meaning \"go on, have it your way, I'll allow the number's closer to what you think than what I think\". How the pragmatics works is another post. How closely the Greek range of άντε matches the Turkish range of \u003Ci\u003Ehaydı\u003C\/i\u003E is another post still.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI do still think that, when used specifically with respect to movement, and without a whining tone of voice, άντε is by default negative, \"get away from here\"; pleading, after all, is still closer to \"I wish you'd go away\" than \"I hope you arrive safely.\" So I don't think the pleading sense of άντε is inconsistent with an emphasis of movement away from X, rather than towards X.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut that's me. What do you think? If you speak Greek, do either of our surmises on the connotations of άμε and άντε match your understanding of Greek?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/5966277462080570429\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/and-semantics-persistence-in-modern.html#comment-form","title":"8 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/5966277462080570429"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/5966277462080570429"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/03\/and-semantics-persistence-in-modern.html","title":"άμε and άντε: Semantics Persistence in Modern Greek hortative particles"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"8"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-2382434230878202190"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-27T16:22:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2017-02-26T15:03:22.137+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Metonymy and Metaphor in Language Change"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"When language changes, the innovation rarely comes out of nowhere. The typical pattern is that an existing expression is interpreted in a novel way (\u003Cb\u003Ereanalysis\u003C\/b\u003E); and that novelty spreads through the language (\u003Cb\u003Eextension\u003C\/b\u003E). \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor example, within my lifetime, \u003Ci\u003Efun\u003C\/i\u003E switched from being just a noun to also being an adjective. That reanalysis happened in people's heads, and you can't detect it in people's heads, because \u003Ci\u003Ethat was fun\u003C\/i\u003E makes sense whether \u003Ci\u003Efun\u003C\/i\u003E is a noun or an adjective. You only realise, as an outside observer, that \u003Ci\u003Efun\u003C\/i\u003E is now an adjective, because people have started using \u003Ci\u003Efun\u003C\/i\u003E in contexts where a noun makes no sense: \u003Ci\u003Ethat was so fun, that was the funnest thing ever\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you're trying to date linguistic change, you have a problem. Because the initial reanalysis happens in people's heads, you can't see it in textual evidence. The only thing you can see in textual evidence is how the reanalysis has spread to novel contexts. In fact, the only thing any other speaker of the language will notice is when the first speaker starts using the construction in novel contexts. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo  the actual change to language as one person's internalised system happens with reanalysis. But language as spoken by a community only changes when everyone is in on the reanalysis; and for everyone to be in on it, the expression has to be used in unambiguously novel ways.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EReanalysis itself can happen in two ways. One is the way I've just described: the interpretation of the expression happens imperceptibly, because the expression has a structural ambiguity. Anything in English following \u003Ci\u003Ethat is\u003C\/i\u003E can be either a mass noun or an adjective. The phrase \u003Ci\u003Eanorange\u003C\/i\u003E can be chopped up as either \u003CI\u003Ea norange\u003C\/I\u003E or \u003Ci\u003Ean orange\u003C\/i\u003E. (And \u003Ci\u003Enorange\u003C\/i\u003E was the original form—as in Arabic \u003Ci\u003Enāranj\u003C\/i\u003E, and Greek νεράντζι.) \u003Ci\u003EI will\u003C\/i\u003E originally meant that you want to do something; but (if you have anything to do with it), it also contains the expectation that the something is going to happen in the future.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOn the other hand, reanalysis can happen when someone takes an expression that is established in one domain, and starts using it in a similar way, in a completely different domain. For example, a \u003Ci\u003Erocket\u003C\/I\u003E in Italian was originally a spindle, and a well established term in the domain  of weaving—until someone got the idea of using \u003Ci\u003Erocket\u003C\/i\u003E to refer to spindle-shaped projectiles, in the unrelated domain of ballistics. A \u003Ci\u003Ehead\u003C\/i\u003E has a well established meaning in anatomy, which gradually built up connotations as the most important part of the body. (That's why κάρα in Ancient Greek came to be used in phrases like \"the divine head of Jocasta is dead.\") That notion of importance led \"head\" to be used in domains unrelated to either anatomy or containing a brain and an oral cavity: \u003Ci\u003Ehead waiter, head of the beach\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe second kind of reanalysis uses a concept in a new domain, with some but not all of the same meaning. That is of course exactly what a \u003Cb\u003Emetaphor\u003C\/b\u003E is, and this is metaphoric change. The first kind exploits ambiguity within the same domain, rather than making a conceptual leap. Because it's not metaphor, but an \"adjacent\" meaning, linguists have come up with the cleverness of calling this \u003Cb\u003Emetonymic\u003C\/b\u003E change, extending the original notion of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Metonymy\"\u003Emetonymy\u003C\/a\u003E. (The thinking is outlined in Hopper \u0026amp; Traugott's \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/books.google.com.au\/books?id=d5JwYbI5P3cC\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EGrammaticalization\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E textbook.) I can see why they did so: the White House and the US government are both on 1600 Pennsylvania Ave; wanting to do something and having something happen in the future are inherent in the same phrase \u003Ci\u003EI will\u003C\/i\u003E. It's still overclever to call it that, but I don't get to write the textbooks. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBoth metaphoric and metonymic change lead to reanalysis; but they work in different ways. A metaphor is an act of conceptual creativity; it only takes one clever speaker to come up with a new way of seeing things, and others will be impressed enough to follow suit. Metonymy, on the other hand, doesn't need cleverness; it can be positively hampered by cleverness. Metonymy relies on a different interpretation of an expression in the same domain; it relies on people misunderstanding what what meant. Metonymy builds on the ambiguities available from the context; the context is what speakers are scrambling for, because they usually didn't understand the original expression. The point of metaphor, on the other hand, is ignore the context: metaphor invents a new context for the expression.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm going through all this, because it comes up in my next post, which is reporting on a couple of blog posts and associated discussion, trying to explain how the Modern Greek expression αμέτι μουχαμέτι has developed. The expression, we can be reasonably sure, originates in the Ottoman Turkish \u003Ci\u003E­ümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E. The Turkish phrase means \"nation of Muhammad\", from the Arabic \u003Ci\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Ummah\"\u003EUmmah\u003C\/a\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E. The Modern Greek expression is close to \"\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.phrases.org.uk\/meanings\/97700.html\"\u003Ecome hell or high water\u003C\/a\u003E\": it points to unreasonable insistence, pigheadedness:  το έβαλε αμέτι μουχαμέτι να κάνει τον γιο του δικηγόρο, \"he set out, \u003Ci\u003Eameti mouhameti\u003C\/i\u003E, to make his son a lawyer\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you're trying to work out how \"Nation of Muhammad\" ended up meaning \"Come hell or high water\", you can take it as a metaphorical change. My \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.opoudjis.net\/Play\/opoudjis.html\"\u003Egodfather\u003C\/a\u003E, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.ucy.ac.cy\/~kaplanis.aspx\"\u003ETasos Kaplanis\u003C\/a\u003E, is going to be annoyed with this sequence of posts, because I'm going to take his postings in vain twice. When the phrase \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/07\/10\/amet-muhammet\/\"\u003Efirst came up\u003C\/a\u003E on the Magnificent Nikos Sarantakos' Blog, Tasos posted a comment that allows a metaphorical explanation for what happened. (I'm simplifying in saying so, but I'm arguing a point here.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EMy hypothesis is that the phrase reflects the power relations in the ottoman domain, when the dominant and privileged \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E could impose its will arbitrarily on the subject \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Rayah\"\u003Erayahs\u003C\/a\u003E [tax-paying class, particularly non-Muslims]. I presume that many decisions were taken only because that's what the \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E wanted, and many people were privileged only because they belonged to the \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E; that might explain Koutsonikas' [early] rendering, in which (α)μέτι μουχαμέτι meant \"through the force of Muhammad\". (By the way, that rendering supports my hypothesis on power relations, I believe.)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETasos' explanation has a Greek-speaker take an expression from one domain and context (Muslim war cries, Ottoman ruling class perspective), and apply it to a different domain, with a different connotation (Imposition of arbitrary rule \u0026gt; arbitrariness, Christian subject class perspective). That's metaphorical extension.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe fact that the phrase originated with the Ottoman ruling class is certainly part of why the phrase has the colouring it has. But it's a fairly abstract application of the phrase, and I don't think it's enough to explain what has happened. It's not that metaphorical change doesn't happen: the best of slang is founded in metaphor, and it's the alteration in words' context that makes slang vivid. But for a bilingual Greek to take a war cry and start using it to mean \"because I said so\" seems a stretch.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EParticularly because there is another instance when a foreign phrase is used to mean \"because I said so\", and there's nothing metaphorical about it: με το άστα ντούε, \"[he did it] with an \u003Ci\u003Easta due\u003C\/i\u003E\", which is merely the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Arvanitika\"\u003EArvanitika\u003C\/a\u003E for \"that's how I want it\" (\u003Ci\u003Eashtu dua\u003C\/I\u003E). (The expression is more common now in fully Greek guise, με το έτσι θέλω.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat seems more plausible to me is a metonymic change:  instead of one ingenious bilingual speaker, suddenly flipping the meaning of \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E out of context to mean \"hell or high water\", I think it likelier that Greeks heard \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i Muhammed\u003C\/i\u003E in its original use, in contexts that would allow them to reinterpret it (or misconstrue it) as \"hell or high water\". And for that to happen, you want not ingenuity, but dullness—and felicitous ambiguities. In fact, it helps metonymic change if the speakers who changed the meaning of the expression did not understand Turkish at all. The fact that \u003Ci\u003Eümmet-i\u003C\/i\u003E was changed to \u003Ci\u003Eameti\u003C\/i\u003E indicates that they didn't; \u003Ci\u003Eameti\u003C\/i\u003E sounds more like Amhed (as Fauriel already misunderstood in his 1824 translation), or αμέτε \"go on\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMore on αμέτι μουχαμέτι later. αμέτι μουχαμέτι is why I'm going through all this; but I'm worked up about all this, because it was a motivating question behind my thesis. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.opoudjis.net\/Work\/thesis.html\"\u003EMy thesis\u003C\/a\u003E was on the Modern Greek connective που, whose primary meaning is as a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Relativizer\"\u003Erelativiser\u003C\/a\u003E, but which also has various uses as a connective and a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Complementizer\"\u003Ecomplementiser\u003C\/a\u003E. In Standard Modern Greek, the various senses of που are hard to gather together—the shades of meaning are particularly subtle for the complementiser; but they can be gathered under a general notion of the clause being taken as a given, or presupposed.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI don't want to get too deeply into this, but: που can mean \"when, because, since, given that\", but not \"if, until\"; you can be happy που Χ, but not hope που X; you remember που events, but remember πως facts (\"I remember going; I remember that I went\").\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIris Papadopoulou wrote her 1994 PhD thesis giving a metaphorical account of how που came to have this range of meanings. που is derived from Ancient Greek ὅπου \"where\" (which survives as Modern όπου); present-day που introduces clauses that are given. The metaphorical account is that που came to have its present range of meanings, as a metaphor from Located-In-Space to Given-In-Discourse: that \"because X\" or \"when X\" or \"who did X\", which provide background to understanding an event, can be expressed as a literal background for the event (\"where X\").\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's possible; after all, I've just used \"background\" in that metaphorical sense. But it struck me, again as a rather abstract metaphor to explain the spread of που. It made more sense to me that the givenness of που came along for the ride through metonymic change: since relative clauses contain given information, any reanalysis of a relative clause as a causal, or a complement, would carry the givenness along with it. The immediate cause of που having the range it does is that it was a relativiser; if the immediate cause can explain the semantic range, the ultimate etymology need not be brought in.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere is some circumstantial evidence in that the Pontic relativiser ντο, which has nothing to do with ὅπου, has a similar range of meanings. For that matter, so does Middle French \u003Ci\u003Eque\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt turns out that Greek does have a clear metaphorical use of \"where\", extended from Location-In-Space to Location-In-Discourse; it is used in storytelling, to link together chunks of the story. This use is fairly restricted; the only evidence I have found is from Zante (which is where Tzartzanos' \u003Ci\u003ESyntax\u003C\/i\u003E had found it from.) And that metaphor was a modern metaphor, so it involved the modern word for \"where\", which still has its initial vowel: όπου, οπού.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤην αυγή πάει ο ταβερνιάρης και βλέπει την καταστροφή. Οπού αρχίνησε να θυμώνη. \"At dawn, the innkeeper went and saw the damage. So he started getting angry.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΝα γένουμε, λέει, αδέρφια· πέντε εμείς και ένας εσύ έξι. Όπου λοιπόν τα συμφωνήσανε. \"'Let's become brothers', he said. 'There's five of us and one of you; that makes six.' So they agreed.\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact English has the same metaphor: \u003Ci\u003Ewhereupon\u003C\/i\u003E. But that metaphor is rather more restricted in scope than can be claimed for που overall; and (I think) more intuitive than applying it to \"I remember when\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe metonymic take on language change relies on going through several instances of the ambiguous phrase through time, and pinpointing when the change in meaning would have happened: it is not immediately obvious, because the reanalysis happens in peoples' heads, and does not alter the context. Metaphor, on the other hand, can be detected in just a single sentence, applying the notion in a novel context for the first time. When I do come to writing up the story of αμέτι μουχαμέτι, it will be from a metonymic point of view.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/2382434230878202190\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/metonymy-and-metaphor-in-language.html#comment-form","title":"1 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2382434230878202190"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2382434230878202190"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/metonymy-and-metaphor-in-language.html","title":"Metonymy and Metaphor in Language Change"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-1884568721537488907"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-22T01:20:00.003+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-22T02:03:50.794+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Early Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"etymology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Tsakonian"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"κατσούλι \"kitten\": where did the cutesy \/ts\/ come from?"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Tom Recht had a simple question in comments the other day, which admits of an almost simple answer. There is a catch, in that there is no clear phonological reason for what has happened, and I offer an unconvincing guess at it.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-on-compounds-with-inflection.html?showComment=1298057262718#c3560749985407993151\"\u003ETom Recht's question\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EI'm curious about the word κατσούλι, which is intriguingly similar to the Hebrew for 'cat', [xatul]. Of course they're both presumably related to cat, Byzantine κάττα\/κάττος, Latin \u003Ci\u003Ecatta\/cattus\u003C\/i\u003E, etc. (ultimate origin unknown), but none of those has the -ul- part that you see in κατσούλι and \u003Ci\u003Exatul\u003C\/i\u003E. Any idea where the Greek word comes from?\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnonymous delivered, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-on-compounds-with-inflection.html?showComment=1298102766600#c8882607855917505463\"\u003Ein his response\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EThe \"oul\" in greek is part of the suffix -ouli.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe part that needs explanation, I think, is rather how kati gave katsi. Did a tsitakistic(sic) dialect give it to the standard? \u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis all makes sense, but let me unpack it a bit more slowly.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EAncient Greece was not familiar with cats; Greeks kept weasels (γαλῆ) as pets, and you'll occasionally see pedants calling cats γαλῆ,  but the real exposure to cats was in the Roman era. There was a Classical word for cat, αἴλουρος, which Puristic has preserved: felines are αιλουροειδή, \"aeluroids\". But that's the name for an exotic animal from Egypt; once people routinely interacted with cats, they used the Roman name for cats, \u003Ci\u003Ecattus\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(I could be completely wrong about this, but I'll keep going.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn LSJ, \u003Ci\u003Ecattus\u003C\/i\u003E \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/archimedes.fas.harvard.edu\/cgi-bin\/dict?name=lsj\u0026lang=el\u0026word=ka\/tta\u0026filter=CUTF8\"\u003Eis reported as\u003C\/a\u003E κάττα and κάττος, both from Scholia. This is a fairly common occurrence in LSJ: the scholia on Ancient text explain the old words using contemporary, mediaeval words. LSJ is strip-mining the scholia for snippets of antiquity, and adds these glosses to its coverage artificially, although properly they're out of its scope.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn Standard Modern Greek, the word was reborrowed from Italian \u003Ci\u003Egatto\u003C\/i\u003E, as γάτα. In Greek, unlike Italian, cats are by default feminine, and the masculine γάτος is explicitly a tomcat. That's Standard Greek; but Greek dialect preserved the earlier, Latin form: the Cretan for \"cat\" is κάτης. Hence the Renaissance poem Ο Kάτης και ο Μποντικός, \"The cat and the mouse\", which has \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.early-modern-greek.org\/archives\/445\"\u003Ejust come out in a new edition\u003C\/a\u003E. (You can get an earlier edition online via Tassos Kaplanis' \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/earlycretan.wikispaces.com\/011_Animal_Fables\"\u003ECretan Lit class wiki\u003C\/a\u003E.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow, once Greek has borrowed a foreign stem, it can play around with its inflections and derivational morphology. From γάτα \"cat\" (Standard Greek), you get:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eγάτος \"male cat\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eγατί \"neuter cat; (implicit) diminutive of cat\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eγατάκι \"neuter diminutive of cat, kitten\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eγατούλα \"different, feminine diminutive of cat, she-kitten\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eγατίλα \"cat smell\"\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EA \"kitten\" in the sex-kitten sense is thus going to be γατούλα, as memorably and annoying chanteused about by the Greek, infantilised equivalent of Brigitte Bardot (God help me), \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Aliki_Vougiouklaki\"\u003EAliki Vouyouklaki\u003C\/a\u003E (0:29):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/ce7q0SYPzLU\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΝιάου νιάου βρε γατούλα \/ με τη ροζ μυτούλα \/ γατούλα μου μικρή—τσα τσα τσα\u003Cbr \/\u003EΝιάου. Σ' έχουνε μη στάξει \/ κι είναι από μετάξι \/ η γούνα σου η γκρι\u003Cbr \/\u003E\"Meow meow, kitten, with your little pink nose, my little kitten. Cha cha cha.\u003Cbr \/\u003EMeow. They treat you with kid gloves, and your grey coat is made of silk.\"\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUm, yeah. A younger, more innocent Greece. Glad that's over.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EModern Greek doesn't happen to have the normal neuter diminutive γατ-ούλι, just its feminine counterpart γατ-ούλα. As it turns out Cretan does has the equivalent neuter equivalent, and has had it at least since the Renaissance. The hyperlinks are the online abridged Kriaras dictionary; the citations are from the dead tree full version: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=12177\u0026target_dict=2\"\u003Eκάτα\u003C\/a\u003E \"cat\" (fem): Mass of the Beardless Man, Meursius' Dictionary\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=12805\u0026target_dict=2\"\u003Eκάτης\u003C\/a\u003E \"cat\" (masc): Entertaining Tale of Quadrupeds (mainland, ca. 1364); Oracles of Leo the Wise; Teseide; Cat and Mouse\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=12882\u0026target_dict=2\"\u003Eκατσί\u003C\/a\u003E \"neuter cat; (implicit) diminutive of cat\": To an Old Man Not To Marry, Chronicle of Morea\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=12887\u0026target_dict=2\"\u003Eκατσούλι\u003C\/a\u003E \"neuter diminutive of cat, kitten\": \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.cyprusevents.net\/events\/fortunato-marco-antonio-foscolo-nicosia-2010\/\"\u003EMarco Antonio Foscolo: \u003Ci\u003EFortunato\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E (Crete, 1655)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=12884\u0026target_dict=2\"\u003Eκατσίπαρδον\u003C\/a\u003E \"cat–pard, cheetah\" (Italian \u003Ci\u003Egattopardo\u003C\/i\u003E): Oracles of Leo the Wise\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=12888\u0026target_dict=2\"\u003Eκατσουλόπαρδος\u003C\/a\u003E  \"cat–pard, cheetah\": Erotokritos\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo κατσούλι is derived from κατσί, and κατσί in turn is derived from κάτης. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe problem here is that the neuter κατσί has changed \/kat-is\/ to \/kats-i\/, for no obvious linguistic reason. Anonymous, in delivering, wondered whether this was Tsitacism (τσιτακισμός). Tsitacism is the onomatopoeic word for the process in a large number of Greek dialects, of affricating what was the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Voiceless_palatal_plosive\"\u003Epalatal stop\u003C\/a\u003E [c], to [tʃ] or [ts]. This affrication is pretty common across languages, since [c] is a very unstable sound to pronounce: lots of contact area between the roof of the tongue and the palate, easy to let some air through when trying to pronounce a plosive. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe see that kind of affrication all the time with renderings of Latin \/ki, ke\/ and \/ti\/, which must at once time have ended up pronounced as [ce, ci]:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Ecitatio\u003C\/i\u003E [kitatio] \u0026gt; [citacjo] \u0026gt; Italian [tʃitatsione], German [tsitat], French [sitasjɔ̃], Spanish [θitaθjon], English [saɪtɛɪʃən]\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe way to account for all these vaguely palatal modern pronunciations of what used to be \/k\/ and \/t\/ is that they were palatal stops as [c] (because of the following front vowel), and the two [c]'s then broke down, at different times in different languages, into various permutations of [tʃ, ts, s, ʃ, θ].\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd Tsitacism would explain the τσ in κατσούλι as being from κατσί, because κατσί has a front vowel and κατσούλι doesn't. (Kriaras' etymology accordingly reads: \"From the noun κατσί and the ending -ούλι, or less likely from Latin \u003Ci\u003Ecatulus\u003C\/i\u003E\".)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut Tsitacism doesn't explain κατσί, because in almost all dialects of Greece, the only phoneme to undergo that affrication is \/k\/: Κυριακή \"Sunday\" \/kirjaki\/ [cirjaci] ends up in dialect as [tʃirjatʃi] or [tsirjatsi], but Τρίτη [triti] does not end up as *[tritʃi] or *[tritsi].\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are three exceptions where \/t\/ does \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Palatalization\"\u003Epalatalise\u003C\/a\u003E, and they don't account for κατσί in Crete. The two Hellenic exceptions are Lesbos and Tsakonia. Tsakonian is spectacular with its palatalisations: it palatalises not only \/k\/ and \/t\/ before front vowels,  but also \/p\/. In fact, historical \/k\/ ends up pronounced further front than \/p, t\/: πίνω \/pino\/ \u0026gt; κίνου [cinu] \"to drink\", τιμώ [timo] \u0026gt; κιμού [cimu] \"to honour\", κήπος [cipos] \u0026gt; τχήπο [tɕipo] \"garden\". (Or, using a Tsakonian transcription other than \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2009\/04\/tsakonian-orthographic-reform.html\"\u003Ethe one I've invented\u003C\/a\u003E, τζήπο [tsʰipo].)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe non-Hellenic exception is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Aromanian_language\"\u003EAromanian\u003C\/a\u003E, which is still a language of Greece: it likewise palatalises \/t\/ to [c]. The Aromanian specialist Nikos Katsanis has in fact claimed Tsakonian and Aromanian palatalise \/t\/ for the same reason.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EKatsanis, N. [Κατσάνης, Ν.] 1989. Κουτσοβλάχικα και Τσακώνικα (Arumanian and Tsakonian). \u003Ci\u003EΕλληνική Διαλεκτολογία\u003C\/i\u003E 1: 41-54\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENo, not because there is a Romance substrate to Tsakonian; but because Tsakonian and Aromanian are both far enough removed from written Greek, that they would not have been subject to its conservative influence, making them pronounce \u0026lt;τ\u0026gt; as written.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut κατσί is unlikely to have wandered to the Morea from Lesbos, Tsakonian, or the mountain pastures of Thessaly. So affrication can't be the explanation.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EKriaras' dictionary has these references for κατσί: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ETriantaphyllides, Manolis. Collected Works I 358.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPernot, Humbert. Études linguistiques III 423.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBoth are foundational works. Pernot's work is supposed to be his grammar of the dialect of Chios; it ended up being his historical grammar of Modern Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPernot, H. 1907. \u003Ci\u003EÉtudes de Linguistique Néo-Hellénique I: Phonétique des parlers de Chio\u003C\/i\u003E. Fontenay-sous-Bois.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPernot, H. 1946. \u003Ci\u003EÉtudes de Linguistique Néo-Hellénique II: Morphologie des parlers de Chio\u003C\/i\u003E. Paris: Les Belles Lettres.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPernot, H. 1946. \u003Ci\u003EÉtudes de Linguistique Néo-Hellénique III: Textes et Lexicologie des parlers de Chio\u003C\/i\u003E. Paris: Les Belles Lettres.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETriantaphyllides vol. I, pp. 305–490 is his PhD thesis \u003Ci\u003EDie Lehnwörter der mittelgriechischen Vulgärliteratur\u003C\/i\u003E, 1909, Trübner: Strassburg.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe Collected Works of Triantaphyllides are easy to find in University libraries—but I'm at home, and have not photocopied that text; Google Books is giving me \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/books.google.com.au\/books?ei=SmliTde2BIuivQOYxLCrAg\u0026ct=result\u0026id=x4o_AAAAMAAJ\u0026dq=Lehnw%C3%B6rter+der+mittelgriechischen+Vulg%C3%A4rliteratur\u0026q=cattus#search_anchor\"\u003Eone snippet\u003C\/a\u003E for \u003CI\u003Ecattus\u003C\/i\u003E, but not the right one. Pernot's \u003Ci\u003EÉtudes\u003C\/i\u003E are less easy to find in my garage, but I did find them; he does not however explain the [ts], and I suspect Triantaphyllides didn't either.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMy suspicion is that the expected diminutive *κατίν—which we do see in Standard γατί—was modified to κατσί(ν) under the influence of the diminutive -ίτσιν, which was particularly widespread in Early Modern Greek. The accent is wrong for an analogy (*\u003Ci\u003Ekaˈtin\u003C\/i\u003E \"cat\" ~ \u003Ci\u003Epiðimat-ˈitsin\u003C\/i\u003E \"little leap\" \u0026lt; \u003Ci\u003Ekaˈtsin\u003C\/i\u003E). A \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Haplology\"\u003Ehaplology\u003C\/a\u003E from *\u003Ci\u003Ekat-ˈitsin\u003C\/i\u003E \"little cat\" to \u003Ci\u003Ekaˈtsin\u003C\/i\u003E also is awkward, because the syllable being eliminated isn't precisely repeated. But that's my guess.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictionaries\/dictOnLine\/DictOnLineRev.htm\"\u003EAnastasiadis–Symeonidis reverse dictionary\u003C\/a\u003E gives 10 words in Standard Modern Greek ending in stressed \/ˈtsi\/; there is a parallel to κατσί in βουτσί \"barrel\" \u0026lt; βουτίον (attested in the \u003Ci\u003EHippiatrica\u003C\/i\u003E) \u0026lt; Hellenistic \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/archimedes.fas.harvard.edu\/cgi-bin\/dict?name=lsj\u0026lang=el\u0026word=bou=tis\u0026filter=CUTF8\"\u003Eβοῦτις\u003C\/a\u003E \"vessel in the shape of the frustum of a cone\" (Hero of Alexandria) \u0026lt; Late Latin \u003Ci\u003Ebuttis\u003C\/i\u003E. There's less of a cause to pronounce \"barrel\" in a cutesy way than there is for \"kitten\"; so my guess is probably wrong; but there's a large number of Ancient diminutives in -τίον that have stayed as -τί: αφτί, γατί, κουτί, πορτί, σκουτί, χαρτί. Whatever happened with βουτίον \u0026gt; βουτσί did not happen with κυτίον \u0026gt; κουτί \"box\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo this is a dread irregular phonetic change, and linguists appeal to analogy when they don't have a better answer invoking phonological rules.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf someone has already solved this, I'll be happy to hear it.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/1884568721537488907\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/kitten-where-did-cutesy-ts-come-from.html#comment-form","title":"16 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1884568721537488907"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1884568721537488907"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/kitten-where-did-cutesy-ts-come-from.html","title":"κατσούλι \"kitten\": where did the cutesy \/ts\/ come from?"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/ce7q0SYPzLU\/default.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"16"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-8989193142863610255"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-17T23:36:00.005+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T16:00:18.970+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Accent on compounds with inflection switched to -as"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"In the survey of compound accentuation on \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/slang.gr\/\"\u003Eslang.gr\u003C\/a\u003E that I'm about to start on, I've left out compounds switching inflection. These inflections, I had reasoned, bring along their own accentuation; and since the whole word was being reaccented from scratch, that new accentuation is recessive. Which is clearly the case when the switch in inflection is to \u003Ci\u003E-o\u003C\/i\u003E or \u003Ci\u003E-i\u003C\/i\u003E: παιδί \u0026gt; παλιό-παιδ-ο, εκκλησιά \u0026gt; ξω-κλήσ-ι.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut slang.gr captures slang coinages; and slang is not restricted to  \u003Ci\u003E-o\u003C\/i\u003E and \u003Ci\u003E-i\u003C\/i\u003E for its inflection switching on compounds. There are several other inflections that can be used as derivational morphology—to indicate a person associated with the preceding stem or stems.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(The language advisory, as always, should be taken with any post relying on source material from slang.gr, and Yr Obt Svt should not be taken as condoning the stereotypes or attitudes borne in the invective.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EThree such inflections that get a lot of use on slang.gr are the feminines -α and -ω, and the masculine -ας. For examples of the -ω, see \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/trelokampero_11019\"\u003Eτρελοκαμπέρω\u003C\/a\u003E \"madwoman\" (ultimately from τρελο-Καμπέρος \"Mad Kamberos\", an aviator: \u003Ca href=\"https:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/05\/18\/kamperos\/\"\u003Edetails at Sarantakos'\u003C\/a\u003E), \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/aeragkistro_9125\"\u003Eαεραγκίστρω\u003C\/a\u003E \"air hook\" (Kaliarda for \"magnet\"), \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/arpaxtotsimpouko_4338\"\u003Eαρπαχτοτσιμπούκω\u003C\/a\u003E \"grab-and-fellater, slut\", \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/kamaropapoutso_3899\"\u003Eκαμαρωπαπούτσω\u003C\/a\u003E \"woman who (looks down, like she) is admiring her own shoes: shy woman\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor examples of -α, see for example \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/kontoklotsa_2935\"\u003Eκοντοκλώτσα\u003C\/a\u003E \"short-kicker, woman with short legs\", \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/nerofida_2209\"\u003Eνεροφίδα\u003C\/a\u003E \"watersnake, one who drinks lots of water\", or any of the dozens of compounds ending in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/search\/term\/%CE%BC%CE%BF%CF%8D%CE%BD%CE%B1\"\u003E-μούνα\u003C\/a\u003E, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/search\/term\/%CF%80%CE%BF%CF%85%CF%83%CF%84%CE%B1\"\u003E-πουστα\u003C\/a\u003E, or \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/search\/term\/%CF%80%CE%BF%CF%85%CF%84%CF%83%CE%B1\"\u003E-πουτσα\u003C\/a\u003E \"cunt, faggot, dick\" (μουνί, πούστης, πούτσος). There's a difference of accentuation right there, between non-recessive -μούνα and recessive -πουστα\/-πουτσα, which could be because of the referent being feminine or masculine, or with the original stress of μουνί not being recessive, and πούστης, πούτσος being recessive. That's not the affix I'm going to consider though.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm instead looking at -ας. We've \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-further.html\"\u003Ealready established\u003C\/a\u003E that \u003Ci\u003E-a(s)\u003C\/i\u003E is where all confusion breaks loose as to where to accent compounds recessively. There is such seeming confusion about -ας compounds as well: though the switch in inflection is meant to cause recessive accentuation in -ας compounds—as it does in -ος compounds—there is a lot of -ας compounds stressed on the penult.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis list of inflection-switching compounds ending in -ας, I swear on the bones of Psichari, was objectively pulled out of slang.gr without ulterior selection. I have to say that, because it results in some quite nice distinctions. Here's the list of -ας compounds stressed on the penult, and on the antepenult:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable border=1\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth rowspan=\"15\"\u003EAntepenult\u003Ctd\u003Eαγριόπουστας\u003Ctd\u003Eπούστης\u003Ctd\u003Eangry faggot\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eανθυποτίποτας\u003Ctd\u003Eτίποτα\u003Ctd\u003Edeputy vice nobody (bottom of the food chain)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eγαμαωδέρνουλας\u003Ctd\u003Eδέρνω\u003Ctd\u003Efuck-and-basher (someone in command of situation; a subject of an \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2010\/03\/as-prefix-inflection-within-compounds.html\"\u003Eextensive post\u003C\/a\u003E previously on this blog)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eδε(ν)παλεύουρας\u003Ctd\u003Eπαλεύω\u003Ctd\u003Ean \"I can't deal with you\" kind of guy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eδιαβολόπουστας\u003Ctd\u003Eπούστης\u003Ctd\u003Edevil's own faggot\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eθρασόπουστας\u003Ctd\u003Eπούστης\u003Ctd\u003Eimpudent faggot\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαβατζόπουστας\u003Ctd\u003Eπούστης\u003Ctd\u003Eselfish faggot\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαραφλοχαίτουλας\u003Ctd\u003Eχαίτη\u003Ctd\u003Ebaldie with a mane (going bald up top, but leaving their hair long)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eλαδοπόντικας\u003Ctd\u003Eποντικός\u003Ctd\u003Eoil rat (someone greasy; someone who seeks bribes—\"greasing\")\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμαλακοπέρδουλας\u003Ctd\u003Eπέρδομαι\u003Ctd\u003Eshlemiel farter\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμαλακοπίτουρας\u003Ctd\u003Eπίτουρα\u003Ctd\u003Ebran shlemiel (probably, meddling shlemiel, from the proverb: \"if you mess with bran, the hens will eat you\")\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eντόμψωλας\u003Ctd\u003Eψωλή\u003Ctd\u003Eshlemiel (\"thump-dick\"? English \"\u003Ci\u003Edumb\u003C\/i\u003E dick\"?)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eντουμανόψειρας\u003Ctd\u003Eψείρα\u003Ctd\u003Esmoke-flea'er (getting high on someone else's marijuana smoke, from ψειρίζω \"to flea\" = \"to steal\"\u003Cbr \/\u003Edamned gypsy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπαλιόγυφτας\u003Ctd\u003Eγύφτος\u003Ctd\u003Edamned gypsy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eτρικάτσουλας\u003Ctd\u003Eκατσούλι (?)\u003Ctd\u003Eidler (\"thrice cat?\")\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth rowspan=\"20\"\u003EPenult\u003Ctd\u003Eβαβουροπατάτας\u003Ctd\u003Eπατάτα\u003Ctd\u003Enoisy potato guy: fat spoiled person who pretends to be active\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eγιαταμπάζας\u003Ctd\u003Eμπάζα\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"fit for the landfill\" guy, ugly, inexcusable\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eγλειψαρχίδας\u003Ctd\u003Eαρχίδι\u003Ctd\u003Eball-licker, flatterer\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eδροσοπεζούλας\u003Ctd\u003Eπεζούλι\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"cool bench\" guy, idler (who hangs around cool windowsills in summer instead of working)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eεξωφυλαρούχας\u003Ctd\u003Eρούχα\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"watch over the clothes outside\" guy (benchwarmer)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαλοχαιρέτας \u003Ctd\u003Eχαιρετώ\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"greet it fondly\" guy, gladhander\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαψοκαλύβας\u003Ctd\u003Eκαλύβα\u003Ctd\u003Ehut-burner, self-sabotaging\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eλαμπογέλας \u003Ctd\u003Eγελώ\u003Ctd\u003Eshining-smiler, baldie\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμαμκακανανύστας \u003Ctd\u003Eνάνι\/νύστα\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"nom-nom, poo, beddie-byes\" guy, idler\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμουνοτρέχας \u003Ctd\u003Eτρέχω\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"run after cunts\" guy, pussy-whipped\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμπορόλας\u003Ctd\u003Eόλα\u003Ctd\u003Ea can-do guy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμπρατσορακέτας\u003Ctd\u003Eρακέτα\u003Ctd\u003Ean arm racket guy, someone showing off his biceps\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eξερόλας\u003Ctd\u003Eόλα\u003Ctd\u003Eknow-it-all\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eοτινάνας\u003Ctd\u003Eό,τι να 'ναι\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"whatever\" guy (someone random, inexplicable incoherent)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπανταόλας\u003Ctd\u003Eόλα\u003Ctd\u003Ean \"anything, any time\" guy, overcommitting oneself\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπαράκμας\u003Ctd\u003Eακμή (this is incorrect, but I'll explain why later)\u003Ctd\u003Edecadent\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπαρταόλας\u003Ctd\u003Eόλα\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"take-it-all\" guy, pimp, moneysucker\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπορδορούφας\u003Ctd\u003Eρουφώ\u003Ctd\u003Esaliva-face, dribbling idiot\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eσαλιαμούτρας\u003Ctd\u003Eμούτρο\u003Ctd\u003Efart-sucker, flatterer\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eφυσαρούφας\u003Ctd\u003Eρουφώ\u003Ctd\u003Ea blow-and-suck: bong; someone who goes back on their word\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth rowspan=\"13\"\u003EUltima\u003Ctd\u003Eβαψομαλλιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eμαλλιά\u003Ctd\u003Ehair-dyer, older man concealing his age\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαικαλάς\u003Ctd\u003Eκαλά\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"yeah right\" guy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαραφλομαλλιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eμαλλιά\u003Ctd\u003Ebald-hair guy (going bald up top, but leaving their hair long)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαραφωτιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eφωτιά\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"real fire\" guy, spitfire, sexually active man\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκαφρομεταλλάς\u003Ctd\u003Eμέταλλο\u003Ctd\u003Eboor-metal guy (death metal fan)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eκρυφοσκυλάς\u003Ctd\u003Eσκύλος\u003Ctd\u003Ehidden dog-guy (secret fan of \"dogpound\" music—\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Skyladiko\"\u003Eskyladiko\u003C\/a\u003E, disreputable pop) \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμαστακουνάς\u003Ctd\u003Eκουνώ\u003Ctd\u003EYou'reShakingThemForUs (mock surname of someone who has said something stupid, Captain Obvious; the \"them\" are testicles)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμπακαυτιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eαυτί\u003Ctd\u003Ea \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Efthimis_Bakatsias\"\u003EBakatsias\u003C\/a\u003E-ears guy, Big Ears\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπατσοκοιλιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eκοιλιά\u003Ctd\u003Etripe-belly guy, fatso (with a belly full of tripe)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eσαπιοκοιλιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eκοιλιά\u003Ctd\u003Erotten-belly guy, fatso (has let himself go)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eτραχανοπλαγιάς\u003Ctd\u003Eπλαγιά\u003Ctd\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Tarhana\"\u003Efrumenty\u003C\/a\u003E mountainside-guy, hillbilly, useless football player\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eχοντρομπαλάς\u003Ctd\u003Eμπάλα\u003Ctd\u003Efat ball guy, fatso\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eχωριατλαμάς\u003Ctd\u003ETurkish \u003Ci\u003Eatlama\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Evillage leaper (?), uncouth\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESee the patterns? Yes? No? To my surprise, the patterns actually fall out quite nicely, in all but a couple of cases. Let's go through slowly.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFirst, you will have noticed a disproportionate number of compounds which are actually just phrases with a masculine inflection tacked on. γιαταμπάζας for example is merely the phrase για τα μπάζα \"for the landfill\", with the -ας ending appended. In a normal compound, there is no conceivable place for definite articles: compounds link bare noun or verb stems. But this is not a normal compound. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe could argue that slang.gr is exaggerating the trend to such phrase-based compounds; but slang.gr did not invent them. ξερόλας \"know-it-all\" \u0026lt; (τα) ξέρω όλα certainly predates the site, and φαταούλας \"eat-it-all, avaricious\" \u0026lt; φα τα ούλα predates it yet further. As \"know-it-all\" shows, this is a known pattern of English; it's just innovative in Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo these are compounds which quote a phrase in Greek. Like the quotative compounds \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/in-compounds-and-phrases.html\"\u003Ewe saw last post\u003C\/a\u003E, ξεμπράβο and τι άμμος και ξε-άμμος, if a compounds quotes a word rather than treat it as a normal element, the stress is left alone. This is particularly needed when what is quoted is an entire phrase; it would make no sense to reaccent this like a normal noun–noun compound. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat rule takes care of a lot of our non-recessive compounds. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eγιαταμπάζας \u0026lt; για τα μπάζα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eεξωφυλαρούχας \u0026lt; έξω φύλα ρούχα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003CLi\u003Eκαικαλάς \u0026lt; και καλά\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eκαλοχαιρέτας \u0026lt; καλοχαιρέτα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμπορόλας \u0026lt; μπορώ όλα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eξερόλας \u0026lt; ξέρω όλα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eοτινάνας \u0026lt; ότι να 'ναι\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπανταόλας \u0026lt;πάντα όλα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπαρταόλας \u0026lt;πάρ' τα όλα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eφυσαρούφας \u0026lt; φύσα ρούφα\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμαστακουνάς \u0026lt; μας τα κουνάς\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, it also takes care of a lot of inflection-switching compounds which are accented on the ultima, but don't end with -ας:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eελαμωρές\u003Ctd\u003Eέλα μωρέ\u003Ctd\u003Ean \"oh come on\" guy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eξερωγώς\u003Ctd\u003Eξέρω γω;\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"dunno\" guy\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπουθενάς\u003Ctd\u003Eπουθενά\u003Ctd\u003Ea \"nowhere\" guy, someone nowhere to be found\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENote that where the phrase ends in a vowel, the \u003Ci\u003E-a-\u003C\/i\u003E of \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/i\u003E is elided: Modern Greek has no interest in the hiatus that would result from *\/e.la.mo.ˈre.as\/ or *\/kse.ro.ˈɣo.as\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOur rule does *not* take care of μαμκακανανύστας \u0026lt; μαμ, κακά, νάνι: the baby talk words have clear accents, and should have been μαμ, κακά, νάνι-ας \/ˈmam kaˈka ˈnani as\/ \u0026gt; μαμκακανάνης \/mamkakaˈnani-s\/. I'll explain what's happened here at the end.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat leaves us with:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAntepenult\u003Ctd\u003Eαγριόπουστας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eανθυποτίποτας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eγαμαωδέρνουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδε(ν)παλεύουρας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδιαβολόπουστας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eθρασόπουστας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαβατζόπουστας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαραφλοχαίτουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eλαδοπόντικας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμαλακοπέρδουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμαλακοπίτουρας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eντόμψωλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eντουμανόψειρας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπαλιόγυφτας  \u003Cbr \/\u003Eτρικάτσουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EPenult\u003Ctd\u003Eβαβουροπατάτας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eγλειψαρχίδας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδροσοπεζούλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαψοκαλύβας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eλαμπογέλας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eμαμκακανανύστας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eμουνοτρέχας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eμπρατσορακέτας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπαράκμας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπορδορούφας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eσαλιαμούτρας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EUltima\u003Ctd\u003Eβαψομαλλιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαραφλομαλλιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαραφωτιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαφρομεταλλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκρυφοσκυλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμπακαυτιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπατσοκοιλιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eσαπιοκοιλιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτραχανοπλαγιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eχοντρομπαλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eχωριατλαμάς\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHold on to φυσαρούφας \"blow-and-suck = bong, equivocator\", btw. We'll come back to it because it explains some seeming exceptions.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor our next cull of forms, recall that some \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/i\u003E words (those inherited from Ancient Greek) are recessively accented on the antepenult, while other \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/i\u003E words (those new to Modern Greek) are recessively accented on the penult. That means that there will be uncertainty about where to recessively accent \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/i\u003E accents in general. But:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the right-hand word in the compound is stressed on the antepenult, the stress stays on the antepenult in the compound.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the right-hand word  is stressed on the penult, and is three syllables long (–´–), then the word is clearly not going to be accented on the antepenult no matter how it gets compounded: it will count like one of those Ancient Greek nouns with the long ultima. So Ancient Attic καλύβη \"hut\" has survived in Modern Greek in its Doric variant, καλύβα. In Ancient Greek, both καλύβη and καλύβα have long ultimas; so they can only be accented on the penult. Modern Greek gets that καλύβα is one of those penult-no-matter-what words, and doesn't try to accent it any further back. That accentuation extends by analogy to -ας endings on the same stem.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf on the other hand the right-hand word is stressed on the penult, but is two syllables long (´–), then the word is treated as recessive. And compounding the word has the word still treated as recessive; now there's more syllables to the word, the accent can go three syllables back. Recall πάπια \u0026gt; αγριόπαπια \"wild duck\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf finally the original word is accented on the ultima, its accent is preserved.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo: accent is preserved in switching inflections to \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/i\u003E; but two-syllable–long ´– words are treated as recessive, so they end up accented three syllables back in compounds.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELet's put that to the test:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτίποτα (´––) \u0026gt; ανθυπο-τίποτα-ς (´––)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπίτουρ-α (´––) \u0026gt; μαλακο-πίτουρ-ας (´––)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπούστης (´–) \u0026gt; αγριό-πουστ-ας (´––): two-syllables, recessive\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eψείρα (´–) \u0026gt; ντουμανό-ψειρ-ας (´––): two-syllables, recessive\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eαρχίδι (–´–) \u0026gt; γλειψ-αρχίδ-ας (–´–): three-syllables, non-recessive\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπατάτα (–´–) \u0026gt; βαβουρο-πατά-τας (–´–): three-syllables, non-recessive\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμαλλιά (–´) \u0026gt; καραφλο-μαλλι-άς (–´)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eκοιλιά (–´) \u0026gt; σαπιο-κοιλι-άς (–´)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis pattern extends to non-compound use of the inflection switch as well: σαχλαμάρα \"balderash\" \u0026gt; σαχλαμάρας \"self-promoting fool\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat deals with a lot of forms, though not all. Let's do the cull:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAntepenult\u003Ctd\u003Eγαμαωδέρνουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδε(ν)παλεύουρας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαραφλοχαίτουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eλαδοπόντικας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμαλακοπέρδουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eντόμψωλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτρικάτσουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EPenult\u003Ctd\u003Eλαμπογέλας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eμαμκακανανύστας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eμουνοτρέχας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eπαράκμας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπορδορούφας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EUltima\u003Ctd\u003Eκαφρομεταλλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκρυφοσκυλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμπακαυτιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eχοντρομπαλάς\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe're down to the exceptions now. For the first class of exceptions, recall φυσαρούφας, \"blow-suck\". This is not a normal, noun–noun compound, because there is no such noun as *ρούφα. But *ρούφα clearly is not a fluke, since it shows up again in πορδορούφας.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThese are an innovative class of compound—like a lot of slang compounds are; the right-hand of the compound is the bare verb root, without the affixes that would turn the verb into a noun. In fact, the simplest thing to call this in Modern Greek is an imperative, ρούφα \"suck!\"; and φυσαρούφας is indeed a compound of two imperatives, φύσα! ρούφα! (Modern Greek doesn't have an infinitive, so the imperative is as good a place as any to get a bare verb form from.) So πορδορούφας is formed from πορδ-ή \"fart\" and the imperative ρούφα \"suck\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow, there are two major conjugations in Modern Greek. The old non-contracted verbs still have their present imperative end in -ε: Ancient λύ-ε, Modern λύν-ε. The old contracted verbs have merged into the αω-conjugation for the imperative, which ends in -ᾱ: ἀγάπα. Imperatives are recessively accented: δέν-ε \"tie up\", κάλλιο γαϊδουρό-δενε παρά γαϊδουρογύρευε, \"better to tie up a donkey than to go looking for a donkey\". But the -ᾱ ending was long, so it has stayed accented on the penult: αγάπα. This carries across to verbs which now have an -α imperative, even if historically they shouldn't: Ancient τρέχε, Modern τρέχα \"run\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe long imperative endings in γέλα \"laugh!\", τρέχα \"run!\", ρούφα \"suck!\" explain the penult accents of λαμπογέλας, μουνοτρέχας, πορδορούφας. Precedent also counts for words ending up in this class: I'm reasonably sure that μουνοτρέχας \"cunt-runner, pussywhipped\" is modelled after the much older παπατρέχας \"Priest Runaround, someone acting in haste\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere's a further nastiness to this class that I won't try to resolve: there is variation for inflection in these imperatives-turned-nouns, between -ας and -ης (where -ης is always penult-accented). \u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ENon-contracted verbs end up as nouns in -ης: φά(γ)ε \"eat!\" \u0026gt; χαραμο-φά-ης \"someone eating in vain, a waste of space\". \u003Cli\u003EContracted verbs can have either -ης or -ας: κέντα \"poke!\" \u0026gt; πισω-κέντ-ης \"back-poker, gay top\" (possibly by analogy with πισω-γλέντ-ης \"back-feaster, gay bottom\"); γάμα \"fuck!\" \u0026gt; γιδο-γάμ-ης \"goat-fucker\". (You won't be surprised that -γάμης was the majority of such compounds in slang.gr .)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, the choice between -ας, -ης, and -ος is generally a free choice in forming such compounds in Greek, and the accent rules for -ας, -ης, and -ος are all different. I don't think the choice is particularly predictable. In fact, I was surprised to see πούστης and γύφτος compound as -πουστας and -γυφτας, ignoring their original masculine inflections, and I think that's slang deliberately being innovative. But this article presupposes that -ας has been chosen as the inflection.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ECulling those imperatives turned nouns, we have: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAntepenult\u003Ctd\u003Eγαμαωδέρνουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδε(ν)παλεύουρας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαραφλοχαίτουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eλαδοπόντικας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμαλακοπέρδουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eντόμψωλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτρικάτσουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EPenult\u003Ctd\u003Eμαμκακανανύστας \u003Cbr \/\u003Eπαράκμας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EUltima\u003Ctd\u003Eκαφρομεταλλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκρυφοσκυλάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eμπακαυτιάς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eχοντρομπαλάς\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor most of the rest, the accent is caused by completely different \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/I\u003E suffixes, which have distinct functions, and happen to have different accent rules. Admittedly, that sounds like cheating; but those distinct functions of  \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/I\u003E do exist, and the accent of a derivational affix takes priority over the accent of a compound.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESo -ουλας\/ουρας is a distinct suffix for \"person characterised by X\", and its accent is consistently antepenult: γαμάω (και) δέρνω \u0026gt; γαμαωδέρν-ουλας, δεν παλεύω \u0026gt; δε(ν)παλεύουρας, καραφλός + χαίτη \u0026gt; καραφλοχαίτουλας, μαλάκας + πέρδομαι \u0026gt; μαλακοπέρδουλας. Cf. νυσταλέος \"sleepy\" \u0026gt; νυσταλέουρας \"sleepyhead\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπαρά + ακμή \u0026gt; παρακμή \"decline\" should have switched inflection as *παρακμάς. But the -ας of παράκμας is not just a switch of inflection, and παράκμας is not in fact derived from παρακμή \"decline\". This instance of  -ας is used to form truncated forms, and παράκμ-ας is a truncation of παρακμ-ιακός \"decadent\". That truncating -ας suffix is accented on the penult; cf. Παναθηναϊκός \"Athens United Football Club\" \u0026gt; Πανάθας, ανθυπ-ολογαχός \"deputy vice captain = second lieutenant\" \u0026gt; ανθύπ-ας. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThere is a longstanding accented -άς suffix for a professional of X, or more generally someone characterised by X: ψωμ-ί \"bread\" \u0026gt; ψωμ-άς \"baker\", ροκ \"rock music\" \u0026gt; ροκ-άς \"rocker\", φουστανέλ-α \"\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Fustanella\"\u003Efustanella\u003C\/a\u003E, kilt\" \u0026gt; φουστανελ-άς \"kilt-wearer\". Which means that a compound with *any* accent can end in -άς; but if the compound ends in unaccented -ας, then the original right-hand word probably wasn't accented on the ultima. \u003Cbr \/\u003EThat explains καφρομεταλλάς κρυφοσκυλάς μπακαυτιάς χοντρομπαλάς. This explanation is less arbitrary than it sounds, because the -άς suffix has already been added to the right-hand nouns: μεταλλ-άς \"metal fan\", σκυλ-άς \"skyladiko fan\", αυτιάς \"big ears\" already exist (the first two on slang.gr, the last on standard dictionaries). I don't think μπαλάς exists independently as ball-player; it does \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.fishfinder.gr\/Articles.asp?c=48-170-Null\u0026p=\u0026l=%CC\"\u003Eexist as the Blackspot seabream\u003C\/a\u003E (Pagellus bogaraveo), but I'm happy for one out four to be a formation with -άς from scratch.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe're now down to:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAntepenult\u003Ctd\u003Eλαδοπόντικας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eντόμψωλας\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτρικάτσουλας\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EPenult\u003Ctd\u003Eμαμκακανανύστας \u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOf these,\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eλαδοπόντικας does look inconsistent in its accent with ποντίκι, ποντικός \"mouse\"; but this recessive accent is an established pattern with \"rat\"-compounds (τυφλοπόντικας \"blind rat = mole\"). My surmise is that  τυφλοπόντικας is far far earlier than the current slew of -ας inflection-switching compounds, and its inflection was by analogy with recessive \u003Ci\u003E-os\u003C\/i\u003E compounds: τυφλός + ποντικός \u0026gt; τυφλο-πόντικ-ος \u0026gt; τυφλοπόντικας.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe etymology of τρικάτσουλας is obscure; I'm guessing τρία + κατσούλι \"three-cats\", where κατσούλι is an old dialectal word; if so, it may well predate the current pattern for -ας. But this is obscure enough for me to ignore.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EFor ντόμψωλας, the meaning of ντομ is likewise obscure, but the right-hand word is clearly ψωλή \"dick\". The other compounds ending in stressed -άς were derived from nouns ending in \/-a\/ not \/-i\/; maybe accent retention only happens if they share inflection class (\/ma.ˈlja\/ \u0026gt; \/va.pso.ma.ˈljas\/), and the switch in inflection class throws it back to being recessive. (The new ending doesn't look like the old ending, so we're back to \"accent the word from scratch, as a new word\".) I'd need another few examples to confirm, but we have a more interesting word to look at.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOur more interesting word is μαμκακανανύστας. The word is derived from the babytalk words μαμ, κακά, νάνι. The coiner decided to put an \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/I\u003E ending on it. He couldn't. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHe couldn't, because vernacular phonology would not accept the hiatus between νάνι and -ας (*\/mamkakaˈnani.as\/). Normally, there would be no hiatus, because the final \/-i\/ would be stripped off from the word as an inflection: for example, αρχίδ-ι \u0026gt; γλειψ-αρχίδ-ας. But the \/-i\/ is not an inflection; νάνι is babytalk, and is therefore treated as indeclinable and undecomposable.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe approach the coiner *should* have taken was instead to elide the vowel of \/-as\/, and produce *μαμκακανάνης \/mamkakanani-s\/, just like έλα μωρέ \/elamoˈre\/ \u0026gt; ελαμωρές \/elamoˈre-s\/. But the coiner did not do that.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EInstead, the coiner switched to another masculine suffix that happens to end in \/-as\/: \/-ˈistas\/. This corresponds to English \u003Ci\u003E-ist\u003C\/i\u003E. In fact, there are two \u003Ci\u003E-ist\u003C\/i\u003E suffixes in Greek: the indigenous -ιστής \/-iˈstis\/, inherited from Ancient Greek, and -ίστας \/-ˈistas\/, which came back into Modern Greek via Latin and then Italian \u003Ci\u003E-ista\u003C\/i\u003E. There's a clear register difference between the two, and the Italianised form is what you'd use with foreign stems (cf. ποδοσφαιρ-ιστής \/poðosferiˈstis\/ \"football player\", straight from Puristic, with μπασκετμπολίστας \/basketboˈlistas\/ \"basketball player\".)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOur coiner has decided to tack \/-ˈistas\/ onto \/mam kaka nani\/; the deletion of the second \/i\/ in a row (*mamkakananiˈistas) was easier to defend, and is established behaviour for the suffix. (γκαλερί \u0026gt; γκαλερίστας \"gallery owner\", χόμπι \u0026gt; χομπίστας \"hobbyist\", not *χομπιίστας.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe suffix had an added advantage, which the coiner took advantage of—and may have intended all along. \/mamkakaˈnistas\/ ends in \/-nista\/, which is the word for sleepiness. (We already saw the related νυσταλέουρας.) \"Sleepiness\" is spelled with an upsilon, and that's how the coiner has spelled \/mamkakaˈnistas\/: μαμκακανύστας.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe avoidance of hiatus is a driving force for compounding in Greek in general: compounds have to avoid a vowel next to another vowel. The need is less frantic if it's \/i\/ before any other vowel; but the undecomposability of \/nani\/ meant that the colloquial pronunciation *[mamkakaˈnanjas] of *\/mamkakaˈnani.as\/ would have been unacceptable: \/nani\/ would have become unrecognisable. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESwitching to \/istas\/ is not the most extreme way to make sure there's a buffer consonant or two between the stem and the inflection. I dangled παπα-δ-οπαίδι and μακλαουντόσο-γ-ο before you \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html\"\u003Ein a previous post\u003C\/a\u003E. In παπαδ-οπαίδι \"priest boy = altarboy\", \"priest\" is παπά-ς, παπά; the extra -δ- comes from the plural παπά-δ-ες. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor compounds of σόι \/soj\/ \"extended family\", the extra -γ- of μακλαουντόσο-γ-ο \"Macleod clan\" takes a little more explaining. The Turkish \u003Ci\u003Esoy\u003C\/i\u003E was easily analysed as an -ι neuter, with a -ιού genitive and a  -ια plural. That means genitive [soˈju], plural [ˈsoja]; but [j] between vowels in Greek is normally the result of underlying \/ɣi\/, which means that the genitive and plural were analysed as \/soɣiˈu\/, \/soˈɣia\/. That would mean that the singular nominative would underlyingly have to be \/ˈsoɣi\/. It isn't actually pronounced as  \/ˈsoɣi\/ [ˈsoʝi]; but when a compound like *\/maklauˈdoso.o\/ called for an extra stem consonant, the \/ɣ\/ was available to be stuck on.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's rare that a stem-final consonant has had to be invented from scratch; but that has been argued to have happened with κυριλέ \"snobbish\". The word is formed with the faux-French suffix \u003Ci\u003E-é\u003C\/i\u003E; to talk about something being fancy, it made sense to add it to the word for \"gentleman\". \u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThat would have resulted in the hiatus *\/kiri.ˈe\/, which would violate the rules of vernacular phonology; that would be fine for Puristic (\/ˈki.rios\/ itself has hiatus), but people were nervous about coining a new slang word with a Puristic hiatus. \u003Cli\u003EReducing *\/kiri.ˈe\/ to the vernacular *\/kirˈje\/ would have been even less of a sociolinguistic plausibility. \u003Cli\u003EEverything would be so much simpler if \/kiri-os\/ had a consonant at the end of its stem; and a consonant was grudgingly invented: *\/kiri.ˈe\/ \u0026gt; *\/kiri.-l-ˈe\/.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMaybe because κυριλέ would sound like Κύριλος \"Cyril\", which happens to be etymologically related to κύριος (and thereby shares an upsilon with it). If the coiners of κυριλέ had not noticed the parallel with Cyril, the slang.gr folk certainly did; and inveitably, slang.grist \"Jesus\" paired κυριλέ \/kiriˈle\/ with \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/methode_12206\"\u003Eμεθοδέ\u003C\/a\u003E \/meθoˈðe\/, just as St Cyril was paired with St Methodius. (Making this, as slang.gr's in-jokey definition puts it, a \"Jesuitism\", and \u003Ci\u003Epas du tout slangue\u003C\/i\u003E.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's \/meθoˈðe\/, not \/meθoðiˈe\/. It's an analogy that coined \/meθoˈðe\/ to match \/kiriˈle\/; and having the same number of syllables is pretty important in analogies. But I have ranged far from accentuation of compounds by now.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe story is not really as complicated as it may have sounded in leisurely exposition. If you're switching inflection to \/-as\/ in a compound ending in a noun, you keep the accent of the right-hand word—with ´– words considered recessive, rather than penult. But the accent is preserved if the compound does not end in a noun: if the compound ends in an imperative-turned-noun, or it involves a nominalised phrase. And if \/-as\/ has a distinct function as derivational morphology, with an associated intrinsic accent, then that accent takes over.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EEven more briefly: there's an accent-preserving default for \/-as\/ compounds—with recessive taking priority over penult accent in the ambiguous ´– case. But that default only applies to default-type compounds, ending in a noun. Any disturbance to that pattern, and the compound becomes strictly accent-preserving. Any derivational meaning in the suffix takes priority in accentuation—as it always does; again, the compound is no longer the default ending in a noun.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis all means I have something extra to look for with my survey of slang.gr compounds that *don't* switch accent—of which there are well over 1300. That will take a little while to go through: I'm behind in other commitments. I'm hoping for surprises, though.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/8989193142863610255\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-on-compounds-with-inflection.html#comment-form","title":"13 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/8989193142863610255"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/8989193142863610255"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-on-compounds-with-inflection.html","title":"Accent on compounds with inflection switched to -as"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"13"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-7969950116086940330"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-15T09:55:00.003+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T16:46:41.368+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"historical linguistics"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"idioms"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"pragmatics"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ξε- in compounds and phrases"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"This post has been anticipated in comments already anyway; it's the reason why I got the accent of ξέμαγκας wrong.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOne reason was given \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-further.html\"\u003Elast post\u003C\/a\u003E: it is much harder to predict where recessive accent goes for the  \u003Ci\u003E-a(s)\u003C\/i\u003E  inflection than for the other inflections of Modern Greek. \u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EFor masculine and neuter \u003Ci\u003E-o(s)\u003C\/i\u003E, feminine \u003Ci\u003E-si\u003C\/i\u003E, and neuter \u003Ci\u003E-ma\u003C\/i\u003E, recessive accent goes to the antepenult: παλιόκοσμος, κουτόχορτο, κεφαλόβρυση, παλιόπραμα\u003Cli\u003Efor \u003Ci\u003E-us\u003C\/i\u003E, feminine \u003Ci\u003E-o\u003C\/i\u003E, neuter \u003Ci\u003E-i\u003C\/i\u003E and other feminine \u003Ci\u003E-i\u003C\/i\u003E, it goes on the penult: προπάππους, τρελοκαμπέρω, παπαδοπαίδι, γκαντεμοτύχη\u003Cli\u003Efor \u003Ci\u003E-u\u003C\/i\u003E and \u003Ci\u003E-e(s)\u003C\/i\u003E it only ever goes on the ultima: ρεβυθοκαφές, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/zouzounoskatou_9148\"\u003Eζουζουνοσκατού\u003C\/a\u003E. (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/dialnet.unirioja.es\/servlet\/articulo?codigo=2233327\"\u003EKaliarda\u003C\/a\u003E again: \"shit-bug = fly\")\u003Cli\u003EBut because of mergers in both Ancient and Mediaeval Greek, \u003Ci\u003E-a(s)\u003C\/i\u003E has some recessives go to the antepenult, and some go to the penult. That makes confusion possible.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe second reason, given \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html\"\u003Etwo posts ago\u003C\/a\u003E, involves the variability of prepositions. The default in Modern Greek is for accent to be recessive in a preposition–noun compound: παρά + παιδί \u0026gt; παράπαίδι \"stepchild\". Some prepositions leave the accent alone, in a distinct pattern: παρά + στρατός \u0026gt; παραστρατός \"paramilitary\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe real reason why I got the accent of ξέμαγκας wrong is that I'd learned one pattern in my Greek, but not the other. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EThe recessive accent pattern shown in ξέμαγκας  follows the rules inherited from Ancient Greek. (Ancient Greek would still produce *ἐκμάγκας because its -ας was long; but the accent would still be recessive.) And colloquial Modern Greek does have a productive pattern of adding ξε- to nouns, to indicate someone who has stopped being characterised by the noun. If that sounds like an \u003Ci\u003Eex-\u003C\/i\u003Emangas, there's a simple reason for that: \u003Ci\u003Eex-\u003C\/i\u003E and  ξέ- are exactly the same prefix historically (\u003Ci\u003Ekse-\u003C\/i\u003E \u0026lt; \u003Ci\u003Eekse-\u003C\/i\u003E \u0026lt; ἐκ, ἐξ \u003Ci\u003Eek, eks\u003C\/i\u003E, as I explained \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html\"\u003Ea few posts ago\u003C\/a\u003E.) \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere's also a simple reason that I haven't drawn the analogy between \u003Ci\u003Eex-\u003C\/i\u003E and  ξέ- before: they are from different registers, and the usage of ξέ- before a noun is unusual: it is typically a verbal prefix, where it has the verbal meaning of \"un-\" as in \"undo\". That's why I was glossing ξέμαγκας as \"un-mangas\"; but \u003Ci\u003Eun-\u003C\/i\u003E for nominals in English means \"not\" more than \"formerly\" (as in \u003Ci\u003Eunwell\u003C\/i\u003E), so the gloss is misleading.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe pattern appears to be productive in colloquial Greek: Nikos Sarantakos \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html?showComment=1296486776064#c5725679343454668307\"\u003Ebrought up ξέπαπας\u003C\/a\u003E \"ex-priest\", which is also recessive. But I could find no examples with that meaning in either the Triantaphyllidis Institute dictionary (no surprise there), or \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/\"\u003Eslang.gr\u003C\/a\u003E. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/ksempourdelo_11822\"\u003Eξεμπούρδελο\u003C\/a\u003E \u0026lt; μπουρδέλο for instance means not \"a former brothel\", but \"a woman who looks like she has come out of a brothel\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI got the accent wrong because the recessive use of ξέ- before nouns, to mean \"ex-\", is not part of the Greek I've learned. I mean, I recognise it when I see it; but it's not part of my active vocabulary, it would not have occurred to me to coin a new  ξέ- compound with a noun. Just a hole I happen to have in my Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut there's a different pattern using ξέ- which I have learned, and that pattern is accent-retaining. slang.gr does have \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/ksemprabo_15218\"\u003Eξεμπράβο\u003C\/a\u003E \"un-bravo!\", which is not accented recessively, for different reasons: μπράβο is an interjection, which is being quoted in the compound. I will talk about the different accent in quotative compounds later. That's not the pattern I had learned; but it is related, in that it also quotes what it prefixes.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe pattern is the phrase τι Χ και ξε-Χ;, \"what X and un-X?\", meaning \"what do you mean, 'X?'\" or \"what's this 'X' crap you're on about?\" The point of the expression is to dismiss the noun X that the addressee has used as appropriate or relevant. A similar expression is δεν έχει Χ και ξε-Χ \"there's no X and un-X\", which has the same point. (Cf. \"there's no ifs or buts about it\" in English.) And Χ και ξε-Χ can show up on their own as a dismissal in general:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΚαθήστε να διαβάσετε και άστε τα sos και ξε-sos \"Sit yourselves down and study, and stop going on about crib notes [never mind the S.O.S. and un-S.O.S]\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/in.math.upatras.gr\/viewtopic.php?f=109\u0026t=383\u0026start=60#p25288\"\u003E\"ncs_one\"\u003C\/a\u003E, responding to a request for crib notes—which are called in Greek \"S.O.S.\")\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμήτε γνωρίζω τι θα πει Kollo και ξε-Kollo \"I don't even know what Kollo and suchlike [Kollo and un-Kollo] means (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.poiein.gr\/archives\/1732\/index.html\"\u003Epoem by Napoleon Lapathiotis, 1922\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ENikolas81: Οπα, εχω και'γω το ιδιο w\/c kit της Τt ενα χρονο τωρα αλλα δεν μου εχει παρουσιασει κανενα προβλημα, αν οφειλεται σε αστοχια υλικου αφτο μπορει να συμβει και στις καλυτερες οικογενειες..... \"Woah: I've had the same w\/c kit from Tt for a year, but it hasn't shown any problems. If it's because of a fault in the maerial, well, that can happen even in the best of families.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003EThReSh: αστοχία και ξε αστοχία nikola αλλά αν καεί κάποιος στο χυλό φυσάει και τι γιαούρτι... (Literally) \"Fault and Un-Fault, Nikolas, but if someone burns themselves on porridge, they'll blow on yoghurt.\" (Idiomatically) \"It's all very well to talk about 'faults', Nikolas; but once bitten, twice shy\"  (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.hwbox.gr\/news\/3676-neo-liquid-cooling-system-gia-cpu-apo-tin-thermaltake-me-tin-onomasia-prowater880i.html\"\u003E\"ThReSh\" responding to \"nikolas81\"\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe construction works by quoting a word the addressee has used; the speaker wants nothing to do with the word, after all. If the speaker is quoting X, and dismissing X and un-X, she can't reaccent un-X as a new word (recessively): she would be assuming linguistic responsibility for that new word. In the construction, \"un-X\" is still quoting the addressee's use of X. So the accent of X is preserved in the construction.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe most frequent example of the construction is τι μα και ξε-μά, \"what do you mean, 'but'\"—used to cut off someone raising an objection by saying \"but…\". At the best of times, you couldn't reaccent \"un-but\" as *ξέ-μα anyway: prefixing interjections is unheard of, and reaccenting prefixed conjunctions will just make them unrecognisable. (Same goes for ξεμπράβο.) You could argue the same for the following examples, quoting a conjunction and a proper name:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ci\u003Eο πελάτης έχει πάντα δίκιο όταν\u003C\/i\u003E - Α, δεν έχει \"όταν\" και \"ξε-όταν\". Ο πελάτης έχει πάντα δίκιο. Τελεία! \"'The customer is always right, so long as…' Oh, there's no 'so long as' about it! [There is no 'when' and 'un-when'] The customer is always right, full stop!\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/peslac.pblogs.gr\/2007\/12\/bre-ti-psahnei-o-kosmos-sto-google-kai-briskei-emena-no11.html\"\u003E\"peslac\"\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΕμ Ίστωρ με αυτά που λες τι απάντηση περίμενες; Αυτά είναι κοτσάνες. Τι Τίτο και ξε-Τίτο μου λες. \"Istor, with the stuff you say, what sort of answer were you expecting? That's nonsense. What is this 'Tito' crap you keep talking about? [What 'Tito' and 'un-Tito' are you telling me?]\"  (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.network54.com\/Forum\/65399\/thread\/1151847982\/last-1152065151\/Makedonia+-+Forever+on+the+Maps....\"\u003ENick the Greek\u003C\/a\u003E, July 4 2006, 12:26 AM)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd these examples would likely not be accented recessively:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤι κομμουνιστές και ξε-κομμουνιστές; Επειδή δηλαδή θα πάω σε μια πορεία που οργανώνουν κομμουνιστές, έγινα κι εγώ κομμουνιστής, άμα δεν το θέλω; \"What are you talking about, 'communists'? Because I'm going to  protest organised by communists, am I supposed to have become a communist if I choose not to?\" (\u003Ca href=\"toklysma.weebly.com\/4\/post\/2010\/12\/50029.html\"\u003E\"Thracian Without Jurisdiction\"\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eurba-nick: Τσαμπουκάς ο καιρός σήμερα.Μας έβαλε γκολ απο τα αποδυτήρια. \"The weather was aggro today. It kicked a goal against us right from the changing rooms\"\u003Cbr \/\u003EMikelangelo: Πιο γκολ και ξε-γκολ. Δε μασάμε μια. \"What are you talking about, 'goal'? We're of sterner stuff than that now.\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.cyclist-friends.gr\/showpost.php?s=c9dcadd7c019cd60f5c1058df2f41133\u0026p=416147\u0026postcount=47\"\u003E\"Mikelangelo\" responding to \"urba-nick\"\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΣτους δρόμους, μερικές μέρες τώρα, γίνεται το έλα να δεις και πολλοί επίσης ασκούν κριτική στην Κυβέρνηση κύριε Μαγκριώτη. Ότι ποια επίταξη και ξε-επίταξη κάνει ο καθένας ό,τι θέλει στην χώρα. \"For the past few days, it's been chaos in the streets; and many are criticising the government Mr Mangriotis, saying 'What requisition are you talking about? Everybody in this country does whatever they feel like.'\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.yme.gr\/popup.print.php?getwhat=7\u0026oid=21\u0026tid=21\u0026aid=2601\u0026page=0\"\u003EInterview, Skai Radio, 2010-09-21\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut in these examples, a prime candidate for reaccenting is left with its accent preserved:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ElumoELENA: ελα ρε παιδια ο ηχος είναι αθλιος. Μου πήρε τα αυτιά το βίντεο. Κατεβασε το.......... \"Come on guys, the sound is awful. The video has deafened me. Take it off.\" \u003Cbr \/\u003Enikiforos1000: τι ηχος και ξε ηχος... ειναι φοβερος εδω ο μαλαμας \"What do you mean, 'sound'? Malamas is tremendous in this.\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=rMF3TR76pAg\"\u003E\"nikiforos1000\" responding to \"lumoELENA\"\u003C\/a\u003E; unaccented, but the space in ξε ηχος shows this can't be a recessively accented *ξέηχος: ξε and ήχος are treated as two separate phonetic words)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτί άμμο και ξε-άμμο μου λες τώρα \/ εδώ το θέμα είναι αν θα πάμε διακοπές, που και πότε \"What 'sand' are you talking about? The question is, are we going on holidays, where, and when?\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.digital-camera.gr\/index.php?option=photos\u0026action=view\u0026photo_id=27135\"\u003ELIA KALEMIDOU, commenting on a photo of \"Ti amo\" written on sand\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤι κρίση και ξε-κρίση; Κρίση μπορείς να έχεις όταν τα πράγματα βαδίζουν με μία στοιχειώδη τάξη και αρχίζει και χάνεται αυτή (η τάξη). \"What do you mean, 'crisis'? You have a crisis when things proceed according to a rudimentary sense of order, and that order starts to be lost.\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.marketingweek.gr\/default.asp?pid=9\u0026la=1\u0026arId=32774\"\u003EPeriklis Vanikiotis, \"There will be blood\", Marketing Week Online, 2010–10–29\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ECompare the made-up Modern, accent-preserving ξε-κρίση \"un-crisis\" with Ancient recessive ἔκκρισις \"separation, secretion\", which is the same word etymologically. (κρίσις is etymologically first a separation, then a distinguishing, then a judgement, then a trial, then a deciding point.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo, I knew the Χ και ξε-Χ pattern, which is accent-preserving; I did not know the use of ξε-Χ to mean \"ex-X\"; and I accented ξεμαγκας according to the former pattern. They are semantically related, after all. But thanks to Nikos Sarantakos for exposing the gap in my command of accentuation, and launching me down this path. Which is not done yet: there will be at least two more posts of slang.gr data.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAs an added bonus,\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003EHow does the Χ και ξε-Χ expression work? \u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWell, if the addressee's use of X is being ridiculed, and the speaker denigrates both X and un-X, maybe the speaker's saying that both X and the opposite of X are irrelevant—in other words, the entire scale of comparison of X, the entire mental framework, is inapplicable.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENice try, though overintellectualised, but wrong; but remember, ξε- is a verbal prefix above all, and it means not \u003Ci\u003Eun-\u003C\/i\u003E as in \u003Ci\u003Eunwell\u003C\/i\u003E, but \u003Ci\u003Eun-\u003C\/i\u003E as in \u003Ci\u003Eundo\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat it is referring to is a Greek convention of juxtaposing verbs with their opposites, to indicate repeated, futile activity. The notion is that if you do X, then do the opposite, undoing X, you're going to have to redo X, over and over—and that this is a waste of time. ράβω–ξηλώνω \"I sew and unravel\" is the canonical example; and it is applied very far from knitting:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΈνα τραγούδι έγραψα για σένα. \/ Μια μελωδία, ετοιματζίδικο κλισέ. \/ Ράβω και ξηλώνω μέχρι να μου βγει. \/ Μια απλή μελωδία από Μι. \"I wrote a song for you: a tune, a tossed off cliché. I sew and unravel until I can get it out, a simple tune in E.\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.costaslemonidis.gr\/lyrics\/stathmos_2os\/stathmos_2os_stixoi.pdf\"\u003ESong lyric, Kostas Lemonidis\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΓι'αυτό ρώτησα για να μην ράβω-ξηλώνω αν πχ οι τελευταίοι catalyst υποστηρίζουν 1680Χ1050..., \"So that's why I asked, so I don't keep sewing and unravelling, whether the latest Catalyst models support 1680×1050 resolution.\" (\u003Ca href=\"Γι'αυτό ρώτησα για να μην ράβω-ξηλώνω αν πχ οι τελευταίοι catalyst υποστηρίζουν 1680Χ1050...\"\u003E\"Fonzi\", querying on setting up a PC monitor\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΑπό αντιπροσωπία πόσο περίπου θα πάει μαζί με τοποθέτηση, ξέρει κανείς?? (δεν είμαι για να ράβω και να ξηλώνω αυτόν τον καιρό) \"Does anyone know how much it will cost approximately from a dealership, including installation? (I'm not prepared to go sewing and unravelling at this time.)\" (\u003Ca href=\"Από αντιπροσωπία πόσο περίπου θα πάει μαζί με τοποθέτηση, ξέρει κανείς?? (δεν είμαι για να ράβω και να ξηλώνω αυτόν τον καιρό) \"\u003E\"Alestros\", on installing a ceiling light in a VW\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe expression is generalised by turning it into the template \"Χ και ξε-Χ\", where X is a verb, and ξε-X, undoing X, is the opposite action; for example,\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eφίλε, κάνεις τόσο κόπο, γράφεις ξεγράφεις απλά και μόνο για να πείσεις εμένα και τον εαυτό σου πως φταίει το ΕΔΑΔ;.. Στο λέω ξανά, ειλικρινά δεν με ενδιαφέρει ποιος φταίει! \"Friend, you're expending so much effort, you write and unwrite, just so you can convince me and yourself that it's the European  Human Rights Tribunal's fault? I'm telling you again, I honestly don't care whose fault it is!\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/osr55.wordpress.com\/2010\/03\/07\/%CF%80%CE%B5%CF%81%CE%AF-%CE%B4%CE%B9%CE%BA%CE%B1%CE%AF%CE%BF%CF%85-%CE%BD%CF%8C%CE%BC%CF%89%CE%BD-%CE%B4%CE%B9%CE%BA%CE%B1%CF%83%CF%84%CF%8E%CE%BD-%CE%B5%CE%B4%CE%B1%CE%B4-%CE%B4%CE%B5%CE%BA\/#comment-1134\"\u003E\"Kyriacos\"\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΤης ΦΑΚ που λέει και ξελέει μόνη της πως ζει στην γυάλα της και πιστεύει πως σε τέτοιους ζοφερούς καιρούς με την επίθεση που δέχετε ο λαός από ΕΕ-ΔΝΤ-Κεφάλαιο το πανεπιστήμιο μπορεί να έχει ένα πιο ανθρώπινο μέλλον. \"The Independent Student Movement, which says and unsays [keeps saying] of its own accord that it lives in a bubble, and which believes in such miserable times, with the people being attacked by the EU, the IMF and Capital, that the University can have a more humane future.\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.forums.gr\/showthread.php?33170-%D0%F1%EF%E5%EA%EB%EF%E3%E9%EA%DE-%C1%F1%DD%ED%E1-2010\u0026p=1031945#post1031945\"\u003E\"Liakos13\"\u003C\/a\u003E; but the more usual meaning of λέω και ξελέω is \"I say and then unsay, I contradict myself\")\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EΑπό αυτό που είπε, άρχισε ο παπάς να διαβάζει και να “ξεδιαβάζει” σ’ένα βιβλίο, και όπως διάβαζε, ο βράχος ανοιγόταν σιγά σιγά μέχρι που ανοίχτηκε εντελώς και εμφανίστηκε ένας βωμός με χρυσές εικόνες αγίων. \"Saying that, the priest started reading and unreading in a book, and as he was reading, the rock slowly opened until it opened up completely, and an altar appeared with golden icons of saints.\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.attic.tryavna.biz\/fairytales\/pena_moura_%20greek.pdf\"\u003ETranslation of short story by Xosé Filgueira Valverde\u003C\/a\u003E)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are many instances of \"X and un-X\" where the activity of X really is undone; that's what tends to be the meaning of φτιάχνω και ξεφτιάχνω \"I make and unmake\" or most instances of λέω και ξελέω \"I say and unsay\". But the examples given here have eliminated the \"undo\" component of the meaning, and are left with the sense of futile repetition. This is common in semantic change (\"\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/grammar.about.com\/od\/ab\/g\/Bleaching.htm\"\u003Ebleaching\u003C\/a\u003E\"): an expression which has the meaning or connotation of both A and B ends up meaning just B. In the example with \"read and unread\", even the notion of futility is bleached (because the spell works), and we're left with just repetition.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFrom \"say and unsay\" = \"keep saying in vain, keep saying without convincing me\", it is a short step to \"say-and-unsay X, which does not convince me\". From there, it's a neat linguistic trick of Greek to drop the verb, and transfer the template to the noun being said. τι Χ και ξε-Χ, after all, has no verb, unlike its English counterpart \u003Ci\u003Ewhat do you mean, X?\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eτι Χ; is shorthand for τι εννοείς, Χ; \"what do you mean, X?\" or τι λες, Χ; \"why do you say X?\" \u003Cli\u003Eτι Χ και ξε-Χ is similarly an economical way of saying τι λες Χ και ξε-λές Χ; \"why you do say-X and unsay-X\", i.e. \"why do you keep saying X in vain, without convincing me?\" \u003Cli\u003EAnd ξε- here is still undoing a verb, rather than referring to an ex-noun. The verb just happens to be left out. \u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you've read papers I wrote while I was still writing papers (which is highly unlikely), you may recognise this as \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Illocutionary_act\"\u003Eillocutionary\u003C\/a\u003E negation, which is a topic I've \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/dx.doi.org\/10.1075\/jgl.6.07nic\"\u003Eworked on before in Greek\u003C\/a\u003E: \"I don't deny X, but I deny that you should say X.\"\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/7969950116086940330\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/in-compounds-and-phrases.html#comment-form","title":"8 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/7969950116086940330"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/7969950116086940330"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/in-compounds-and-phrases.html","title":"ξε- in compounds and phrases"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"8"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-3684212540531170790"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-12T23:36:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T00:44:49.389+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"morphology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Accent in Modern Compounds: Further Speculations"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"I'm doing a quantitative survey of accent location in Modern Greek compounds, because the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html\"\u003Eforegoing speculations\u003C\/a\u003E have been rather irresponsible, absent hard data. Having thought about the issues some more—and being irresponsible, I'm making some more speculations about factors which influence accent location. We can put them to the test later.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the second half of a compound is a single syllable, stress never recedes back further than the last syllable of the first half: γριά \/ɣrja\/ \"old woman\" \u0026gt; παλιόγρια \/pa.ˈljo.ɣrja\/ \"damned old woman\", not *πάλιογρια \/ˈpa.ljo.ɣrja\/. We saw the same rule in Ancient Greek, and there it presumably has phonological reasons behind οἰκοφύλαξ rather than *οἰκόφυλαξ. For Modern Greek, there are no such phonological reasons: compare *πάλιογρια \/ˈpa.ljo.ɣrja\/ with πάπια \/papja\/ \"duck\" \u0026gt; αγριόπαπια \/a.ˈɣrjo.pa.pja\/ \"wild duck\". \u003Cbr \/\u003ERather, this is a matter of analogy. Ancient Greek has not bequeathed any compounds to Modern Greek in which the first half was accented two syllables back—like *οἰκόφυλαξ. Modern Greek kept the restriction on how far back the accent could go back on the first half.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ENotice the accent on αγριόπαπια, btw. It's impossible in Ancient Greek—*\/a.ɡri.ó.pa.pi.a\/. For this accentuation to be possible, you need \/ia\/ to be reduced to \/ja\/ in vernacular Greek. Greek speakers do manage to keep vernacular and learnèd phonologies distinct.  In particular, Ancient nouns in \u003Ci\u003E-ía\u003C\/i\u003E went to \u003Ci\u003E-ˈja\u003C\/i\u003E in the vernacular: παραγελλία \"order, bid\" in learnèd Greek, παραγγελιά in vernacular Greek. But that means that how recessive accent is realised differs by register.\u003C\/ul\u003E \u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAs \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html\"\u003Ewe saw with υπολοχαγός and παραστρατός\u003C\/a\u003E, modern learnèd compounds will leave accent alone, out of a timidity that gives rise to artificiality. Vernacular preposition + noun compounds, like ancient compounds, are recessive, even if vernacular compounds tend more towards being endocentric (which I guessed might encourage accent-retention). So cf. learnèd στρατός \u0026gt; παραστρατός \"paramilitary\" with colloquial παιδί \"child\" \u0026gt; παραπαίδι \"stepchild, apprentice\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EProper names retain their accent—as you might expect from the general principle I guessed, that if the second half of the compound is unchanged in meaning, it is likelier not to change in accent. (Proper names are *supposed* to have a fairly strict denotation.) So \"mad Nick\" is τρελο-Νίκος, not τρελό-Νικος. (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/forum.math.uoa.gr\/viewtopic.php?f=98\u0026t=59\u0026start=870\"\u003EAthens U Math forum\u003C\/a\u003E: Επίσης σκέφτομαι ότι γράφω αυτό το ποστ για να δω αν δουλέυει το αβαταρ που με τόσο κόπο έβαλε ο τρελονίκος, \"I'm also thinking that I'm writing this post to see whether the avatar Mad Nick set up with so much effort is working.\") \u003Cbr \/\u003EThe \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/\"\u003Eslang.gr\u003C\/a\u003E site, that jewel of informal lexicography, has what looks like a counterexample in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/ntelisabbas_11606\"\u003Eντελήσαββας\u003C\/a\u003E, \"Mad Sabbas, a silly person\". But the contributor notes that he heard this from a Pontian in Central Macedonia, and Pontic has different accentuation rules to Standard Greek: it's quite comfortable with stresses more than three syllables back. So this lemma doesn't count; indeed, the contributor notes the (non-Pontic?) Central Macedonian variant ντελημπάσχος, from Πάσχος \"Pascal\", with the stress unchanged. The only way to change the stress in Standard Greek for names in compounds is to switch inflection; and indeed, the slang.gr editors note Γιάννης \u0026gt; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/strabogiannos_1859\"\u003EΣτραβό-γιανν-ος\u003C\/a\u003E \"Blind John (novice sailor)\", \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/astrapogiannos_15527\"\u003EΑστραπό-γιανν-ος\u003C\/a\u003E \"Lightning John (dullard)\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EWe know that Ancient nouns ending in -η \/ɛː\/ could only have their accent go up to the penult, because of the mora rule. Ancient nouns ending in -ις \/is\/ could have their accent go up to the antepenult, because \/is\/ was short. But in Modern Greek, these have fallen together as \/i\/. Modern Greek respects the Ancient restriction on -η: θήκη \"case\" \u0026gt; vernacular αβγοθήκη \"egg-holder\"—recapitulating learnèd ᾠοθήκη \"ovary\". But when it comes to nouns that formerly ended in -ις, Modern Greek seems to have  remembered that they are recessive, even when the nouns are only two syllables long: Ancient βράσις, Modern βράση \"boiling\" \u0026gt; κουφόβραση \"muggy weather\", Ancient βρύσις \"bubbling up\", Modern  βρύση \"fountain\" \u0026gt; κεφαλόβρυση \"main fountain\".\u003Cbr \/\u003EDid the coiners of κουφόβραση and κεφαλόβρυση know Ancient Greek grammar? Highly unlikely. Did they work out that βράσις and βρύσις are verbal nominals, and associate that kind of recessive accent? True, Ancient βράσσω survives as βράζω—in use already in Koine; and the noun κουφόβραση can in fact be plausibly derived from the compound verb κουφο-βράζω \"to boil in a deaf (= silent) manner, to simmer\". But the verb βρύω did not survive into Modern Greek—and even if it did, the modern water tap of βρύση does not call \"bubbling up\" to mind.\u003Cbr \/\u003EGreek speakers aren't born knowing Ancient morphology, but they don't need to:  whereas the -σις suffix was a highly productive verbal nominal suffix in Greek, there are exactly 7 nouns in LSJ ending in -ση: two are nominalised feminine adjectives, and don't count (μέση, ὑπερμέση), and the others did not survive into Demotic (ἀποφράση, ἄση, ἕρση, κόρση, Τεμέση).\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo Greek speakers would have been able to work out that most nouns ending in \/i\/ could not be accented on the antepenult, but nouns ending in \/si\/ could. They could work that out without any recourse to derivational morphology. And they could carry that insight across to compounds.\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe can then speculate that, if another Ancient noun ending in -ῐς survived into Greek, and didn't look like a verbal nominal, its Modern Greek compounds will not be recessive—unless there are surviving compounds from Ancient Greek, which also have recessive accent, and serve as a precedent. So μύτις \"snout\", ῥάχις \"back\", μάντις \"augur\" and κόνις \"dust\" have survived into Modern Greek as μύτη, ράχη, σκόνη, μάντης; in compounds, they should accent like any another noun ending in -η, on the penult. And that is demonstrated by αετοράχη \"eagle-back = sheer mountain peak\", χειρομάντης \"palm reader\". (Yes, there's nothing vernacular about χειρομάντης—except for its ending, which was remodelled from the actual Ancient χειρόμαντις. In its μάντης guise, it's still a productive pattern, as in slang.gr's predictably scatological \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/kopromantis_16327\"\u003Eκοπρομάντης\u003C\/a\u003E, \"practitioner of copromancy\". You may not want to google that...)\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm *not* vindicated by  ασημόσκονη, καρβουνόσκονη, χρυσόσκονη, \"silver dust, coal dust, gold dust\", which are accented as if someone knew about Ancient recessive κόνις after all. But χρυσόκονις does turn up in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Timotheus_of_Gaza\"\u003ETimothy of Gaza\u003C\/a\u003E (§32). It's entirely possible that this word survived into the vernacular, and set up an analogy for other \"dust\" compounds. At least, I hope that's what's happened.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ECompounds based on nouns ending with consonants, as modern loans, are outside the bounds of Greek morphology; so they will leave the accent alone. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/blaxomparok_16057\"\u003Eβλαχομπαρόκ\u003C\/a\u003E \"hillbilly baroque, kitsch\" is literally \"Vlach Baroque\", with the timehonoured Greek denigration of the Vlachs as mountain folk. There was no way μπαρόκ would be reaccented as *βλαχόμπαροκ. (The Vlachs translated their \u003Ca href=\"Transhumance\"\u003Etranshumant\u003C\/a\u003E pastoralism into transnational financial acumen, and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Georgios_Sinas\"\u003EVlachs financed\u003C\/a\u003E many of the major cultural institutions of Athens. But stereotypes don't pay attention to such niceties.)\u003Cbr \/\u003EDitto the delightful coinage of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.qrd.org\/qrd\/www\/world\/europe\/greece\/roz_mov\/kaliarda.html\"\u003EKaliarda\u003C\/a\u003E (the Greek \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Gay_slang\"\u003Egay cant\u003C\/a\u003E), \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/zouzounosailok_11386\"\u003Eζουζουνοσάιλοκ\u003C\/a\u003E, \"Shylock bug = ant\", because ants hoard food. OK, it's not delightful because of the easy antisemitic trope; but Kaliarda is full of such far-fetched (and overeducated) cleverness.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOne more speculation—although this is being vindicated from what I'm seeing of compounds. The inflection mattered in Ancient Greek for where the accent would end up in compounds—depending on whether the inflection was a long or short vowel. Modern Greek does not have long and short vowels, and it has boiled down the ancient declensions into what, for the nominative singular at least, is a simple pattern: masculines end in -Vs (where V can be any vowel), feminines and neuters end in -V. (Other cases and plurals are a lot messier, but that messiness is not added to with compounding.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo how should the modern declensions behave with recessive accent?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EMasculines and neuters ending in \u003Ci\u003E-os, -o\u003C\/i\u003E are the simplest case, since this ending has changed the least from Ancient Greek second declension. \u003Ci\u003E-o\u003C\/i\u003E nouns were recessive in Ancient Greek, and this has remained the case. There are lots of exceptions to recessiveness for \u003Ci\u003E-o\u003C\/i\u003E, and they are all verbal nominals or psychopomp-compounds; that too has remained the case.\u003Cbr \/\u003EFeminines in \u003Ci\u003E-o\u003C\/i\u003E (-ω) are a fascinating grabbag of nouns: Ancient names in -ώ like Sappho and Calypso; Mediaeval names in -ω like Κρυστάλω \"Crystal\", modelled after the Slavonic feminine vocative; the Modern slang derivational suffix -ω (e.g. μαλάκω, σπασίκλω); and the erstwhile normalisation of Ancient feminines in -ος (η Κόρθο, η μέθοδο). It's a fascinating grabbag, but it's marginal; and outside the now abandoned forms like μέθοδο, it provides no reason for accentuation on the antepenult.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe \u003Ci\u003E-e(s)\u003C\/i\u003E and \u003Ci\u003E-u(s)\u003C\/i\u003E declensions are also quite infrequent: \u003Ci\u003E-e(s)\u003C\/i\u003E nouns are Turkish and Romance loans, \u003Ci\u003E-us\u003C\/i\u003E nouns are a couple of Ancient leftovers (παππούς \"grandfather\", Ιησούς \"Jesus\"), \u003Ci\u003E-u\u003C\/i\u003E nouns are the convention for borrowing Turkish feminines in \u003Ci\u003E-ı\/i\u003C\/i\u003E, or deriving them locally from Turkish masculines (typically the feminine -τζού \"professional of X, wife of professional of X\", from Turkish \u003Ci\u003E-cı\/ci\u003C\/i\u003E, as in καφετζού \"café owner's wife, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Tasseography\"\u003Etasseomancer\u003C\/a\u003E\", στριπτιζτζού \"stripper\"). Again, no reason to assume accent on the antepenult, and not a whole lot of nouns following the pattern to begin with.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe \u003Ci\u003E-i(s)\u003C\/i\u003E nouns are mostly derived from Ancient -η(ς), and in Ancient Greek they were accented only as far back as the penult, because of the long syllable. This has been preserved in Modern Greek; as we saw \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/how-greek-accentuation-works.html\"\u003Ein previous posts\u003C\/a\u003E, it would take overwhelming analogy to dislodge the accent of -η(ς) to the antepenult; and that hasn't happened with compounds. The exception is with Ancient nouns that originally ended in -ῐς instead of -η; and again, as I've argued, it's analogy that has allowed those nouns to remain an exception.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat leaves the \u003Ci\u003E-a(s)\u003C\/i\u003E nouns. There is good reason for there to be confusion about where to accent such compounds. That's convenient for me, because it justifies me getting the accent of ξέμαγκας wrong, and it explains the variability that was pointed out in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html?showComment=1297330658158#c1083159322142923447\"\u003Ecomments last post\u003C\/a\u003E, between παλιοπαπάς and παλιόπαπας.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAt least some of the confusion is as old as Ancient Greek. Feminines could end in both -ᾰ -and -ᾱ; the former could be accented on the antepenult, the latter could not. As a result, there are compounds of the former, which are recessively accented on the antepenult (λιμνο-θάλασσα \"lake–sea = lagoon\"), and compounds of the latter (περι-τιάρα \"round cap\"), which are recessively accented on the penult. To a Modern Greek speaker, the latter would look accent-preserving, because there are no long syllables in Modern Greek to explain why the accent doesn't move. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are a lot less penult -ᾱ(ς) nouns in the Modern Greek vernacular:  -έᾱ(ς), -ίᾱ(ς) \/-ˈea(s), -ˈia(s)\/ in the vernacular went to -ιά(ς) \/-ˈja(s)\/, so if the vernacular were left on its own, few nouns would look like offering a counterexample to the recessive accent of  θάλασσα. Except that -ία is a very productive verbal nominal suffix, and would not have been reaccented in the verbal nominals inherited from Ancient Greek. Like ανεμοβλογιά \/a.ne.mo.vlo.ˈɣja\/ \"chickenpox\" \u0026lt; *ανεμ-ευλογία \/anem-eulogía\/ \"wind-blessing\", which did not end up as *ανεμόβλογια \/a.ne.ˈmo.vlo.ɣja\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMasculines in Ancient Greek only ended in -ᾱς (or -ης, as a regular sound change); so they were never accented on the antepenult. But as we also saw \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/how-greek-accentuation-works.html\"\u003Ea couple of posts ago\u003C\/a\u003E, Modern Greek is awash with antepenult nouns ending in \/as\/, from the erstwhile third declension. So again, we have some compounds ending in -ας whose accent is antepenult; and some compounds which cannot possibly be antepenult—because they are preserving the Ancient Greek moras, as first declension nouns. Again, they will look to Modern Greek speakers as arbitrarily accent-preserving. Hence, the potential for confusion in general with \u003Ci\u003E-a(s)\u003C\/i\u003E nouns, as to whether they are accent preserving or not.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere will be maybe a couple of thousand compounds out of slang.gr, that I will go through in a future post, to see if these claims are borne out by the numbers. Yes, the corpus is problematic; I'll talk about that too, and I'll make up some excuse or other for insisting on using such a fun word list.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/3684212540531170790\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-further.html#comment-form","title":"3 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/3684212540531170790"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/3684212540531170790"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-further.html","title":"Accent in Modern Compounds: Further Speculations"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"3"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-5388611132739949054"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-09T00:26:00.003+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T00:44:49.390+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Accent in Modern Compounds: Speculations"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Ancient Greek had mostly recessive accentuation in compounds, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-ancient-compounds.html\"\u003Eas we saw last post\u003C\/a\u003E; there are exceptions, some nice, some messy, and a major group of exceptions with verbal nominals.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf an Ancient Greek compound survived into Modern Greek, it had no reason to change accent location; we saw that for simple words as well, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/how-greek-accentuation-works.html\"\u003Etwo posts ago\u003C\/a\u003E. The default in Modern Greek is also recessive; and again, recessive accent is defined by what was acceptable in Ancient Greek. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EThat's because Modern Greek speakers could work out which recessive accents were acceptable, from the compounds surviving in the language. Modern Greek speakers never saw any compound noun ending in -ης change from penult to antepenult stress—because in Ancient Greek, antepenult stress with -ης was impossible. So recessive stress for -ης still means stress on the penult. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor example, given \"tailor\" is ράφτης \u0026lt; ῥάπτης, a Western-style tailor is φραγκοράφτης, \"Frankish tailor\". There's nothing in Modern phonology to prevent *φραγκόραφτης; but with no precedent for an accent like \u003Ci\u003Eˈ$.$.ης\u003C\/i\u003E from Ancient Greek, noone would stick their neck out to coin such a novel accent. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOn the other hand, -ας was a novel inflection in Modern Greek, which allowed antepenult stress inherited from the third declension: γέρων \u0026gt; γέροντας. That means that if a noun ending in -ας entered into a compound, its recessive accent could go back to the antepenult. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETake μάγκας, which is what I started off with. Someone pretending to be a \u003Ci\u003Emangas\u003C\/i\u003E, but too soft to live up to the needed machismo, is a \"butter-\u003Ci\u003Emangas\u003C\/i\u003E\", a βουτυρο-μαγκας. The compound is recessively accented; and because γέροντας is accented three syllables back, so is butter-\u003Ci\u003Emangas\u003C\/i\u003E: βουτυρό-μαγκας.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHere's another instance of Ancient Greek accentuation hanging over Modern Greek recessives. Ancient Greek diminutives ending in -ιον developed into Modern Greek -ι neuters. So Ancient παιδίον \"boy\" is Modern παιδί. \"Altar-boy\" in Modern Greek is \"priest-boy\", παπαδο-παιδι.  The compound needs to be recessively accented. Again, recessive accent in Modern Greek should result in *παπαδόπαιδι. But it does not: it results in παπαδοπαίδι. παπαδοπαίδι obeys the mora restrictions of Ancient Greek, in which it would have been *παπαδοπαίδιον. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe -ον suffix has not been there for 1500 years; so it's not like any Modern Greek speaker is mentally adding the -ον suffix back in, and counting the missing mora. Instead, Modern Greek speakers are noticing the -ι(ον) compounds that have survived from Ancient Greek:\u003Cblockquote\u003Eπερι-βόλιον \u0026gt; περιβόλι \"garden\", εἰκονοστάσιον \u0026gt; κονοστάσι \"\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Iconostasis\"\u003Eiconostasis\u003C\/a\u003E\", ὀκταπόδιον \u0026gt; χταπόδι \"octopus\", ὡρολόγιον \u0026gt; ρολόι \"clock\", ἐλαιοτριβεῖον \u0026gt; λιοτρίβι \"oil press\". (The last one has moved up its accent—but -εῖον and -ιον often alternate as locative suffixes.)\u003C\/blockquote\u003ENone of them is accented any further back than a syllable before -ι-. So no new compound is accented further back than a syllable before -ι- either. And that includes novelties like αραποσίτι \"Arab wheat = maize\" and καφεκούτι \"coffee box\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere's a second way of making sure accent is recessive: changing the inflection of the second noun. Instead of X-Y with the original inflection of Y, you strip the inflection of Y, and add a new inflection instead. The usual inflection to add is -ο; for instance, αστραπή \"lightning\" + βροντή \"thunder\" \u0026gt; αστραπό-βροντ-ο, with the final stress of βροντή wiped out into recessiveness. The possibility of switching inflection in compounds is ancient, e.g. ἄκρα \"edge\" + πρῷρα \"prow of ship\" \u0026gt; ἀκρό-πρῳρ-ον \"edge of prow\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe reason why such compounds are recessive is, stripping the original inflection makes this a new word, which is accented from scratch. That's \"recessive\" as in \"recessive by Ancient Greek norms\", of course; when -ι rather than -ο is used as the new inflection, the accent is only one syllable back, like with παπαδοπαίδι: έξω \"out\" + εκκλησία \"church\" \u0026gt; ξω-κλήσ-ι \"chapel\" (εξωκκλήσιον).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EModern Greek particularly likes switching to -ο as a new inflection when compounding neuters ending in -ι. (Yes, I just said that -ι is also used as a new inflection. This is language, don't expect it to be economical.) The -ι suffix is stripped from the noun, and the old neuter inflection -ο brought back in. Then the whole compound is accented recessively. παπαδο-παιδι cannot be accented as *παπαδόπαιδι. But βούτυρο + παιδί \"butter boy, weakling\" can be compounded  as βουτυρο-παιδ-ο, and accented as βουτυρόπαιδο.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe suffix -ι- was an Ancient diminutive, which is why historically it makes sense to strip it out. Of course, the full Ancient diminutive was -ι-ον, so the switch inflection is merely restoring the deleted -ον suffix. But because Greek speakers are not historians, -ι is also stripped when it has nothing to do with the Ancient diminutive: τροχό-σπιτ-ο \"wheel house = caravan\" \u0026lt; σπίτ-ι \u0026lt; ὁσπίτιον: Latin \u003Ci\u003Ehospitium\u003C\/i\u003E; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.retromaniax.gr\/vb\/showthread.php?10713-%D7%E1%FA%EB%DC%ED%F4%E5%F1-%EF-%E1%E8%DC%ED%E1%F4%EF%F2-Highlander-(1986)\u0026s=b72ae753537a41bc1d74db24db68b68c\u0026p=172324\u0026viewfull=1#post172324\"\u003EΜακλαουντόσο-γ-ο\u003C\/a\u003E \"MacLeod clan\" \u0026lt; σό-ι \u0026lt; Turkish \u003Ci\u003Esoy\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EI'm going to resist the temptation to get sidetracked into discussing the mechanics of how words are attached in Modern Greek, and work through where the linking consonants in παπα-δ-οπαίδι or Μακλαουντόσο-γ-ο come from. Maybe another post. \u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo when *do* Modern compounds preserve accent? I'm going to use some diagnostic prefixes. παλιο- \"old; damned\", as a generic derogatory term,  can be applied to any noun—just as you could apply \u003Ci\u003Epseudo-\u003C\/i\u003E to any Ancient noun (and, either as colloquial ψευτο- or learnèd ψευδο-, to any Modern noun as well). More vulgarly, σκατο- \"shitty\" is just as generic in its application.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe prefixes are recessive: παλιόκοσμος \u0026lt; κόσμος  \"damned world\", παλιόκαιρος \u0026lt; καιρός \"damned weather\". The prefixes also force the -ι neuter suffix to be dropped—which again results in recessives: παλιόπαιδο \"damned boy = scoundrel\" \u0026lt; παιδί, like καμποχώραφο \"valley field\" \u0026lt; χωράφι. But feminine nouns are left with their accent intact when compounded with those suffixes, even if they're stressed on the ultima.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's been too long since I've used a YouTube song to illustrate a linguistic point. Take Παλιοζωή, παλιόκοσμε, και παλιοκοινωνία, music by \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.musipedia.gr\/wiki\/%CE%A1%CE%B9%CF%84%CF%83%CE%B9%CE%AC%CF%81%CE%B4%CE%B7%CF%82_%CE%99%CF%89%CF%83%CE%AE%CF%86\"\u003EIosif Ritsiardis\u003C\/a\u003E, lyrics by \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.musipedia.gr\/wiki\/%CE%A4%CF%81%CE%B1%CF%8A%CF%86%CF%8C%CF%81%CE%BF%CF%82_%CE%9C%CE%AF%CE%BC%CE%B7%CF%82\"\u003EMimis Traiforos\u003C\/a\u003E, ca. 1950:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" width=\"425\" height=\"349\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/-RbMk6trcxI\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.stixoi.info\/stixoi.php?info=Lyrics\u0026act=details\u0026song_id=12585\"\u003EThe song lyrics\u003C\/a\u003E would do service in another post, along with \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.stixoi.info\/stixoi.php?info=Lyrics\u0026act=details\u0026song_id=6807\"\u003EΈ ντε λα μαγκέ ντε Βοτανίκ\u003C\/a\u003E and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.stixoi.info\/stixoi.php?info=Lyrics\u0026act=details\u0026song_id=648\"\u003EΕφτά νομά σ' ένα δωμά\u003C\/a\u003E, on how truncating the final syllable of Greek words still leaves them intelligible. In this post, though, let's concentrate on the title words:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπαλιόκοσμε \u0026lt; κόσμε \"damned world\", recessive\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπαλιοκοινωνία \u0026lt; κοινωνία \"damned society\", recessive in Ancient Greek, because the suffix was -ιᾱ, with a long final syllable\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eπαλιοζωή \u0026lt; ζωή \"damned life\". In no way whatsoever recessive.  \u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe feminine παλιοζωή avoids becoming the recessive *παλιοζώη, whereas the masculine καιρός does become the recessive παλιόκαιρος. This time, we can't blame it on Ancient Greek phonology: Ancient Greek wouldn't have a problem with *παλαιοζώη. In fact, Ancient Greek took ὀπή \"hole\", and created the recessively accented μετόπη \"\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Metope_(architecture)\"\u003Emetope\u003C\/a\u003E\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat I think has happened here is: Ancient Greek had relatively few instances of compounds ending in a simple feminine noun, like μετόπη—which would be recessively accented; but it had abundant instances of compounds ending in a feminine verbal noun—which kept its accent: μεταβολή \"change\", καταστροφή \"disaster\", ἐντροπή \"shame\", προκοπή \"progress\". The relation between -βολή, -στροφή, -τροπή, -κοπή and the verbs βάλλω, στρέφω, τρέπω, κόπτω was no longer apparent, and the verbs no longer looked like that anyway. So Modern Greek speakers had no clear notion that these were verbal nominals at all. Their conclusion was, instead, that feminine compounds keep their accent. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EExcept that \"wild duck\" is a feminine compound, and it does not keep its accent: άγρια + πάπια \u0026gt; αγριόπαπια. For that matter, κουφός + βράση \u0026gt; κουφόβραση \"muggy weather\". Yes, βράση is ancient βράσις \"boiling\", and -ις nouns as I explained are recessive. But how did people work that out in Modern Greek, with the -ις suffix long gone?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESome verbal nominal suffixes remained productive in Greek; some did not. Verbal nominals had different accentuation in compounds than simple nouns did; but Modern Greek speakers would not have a clear notion which was which; we saw them already conflated for with feminines. Modern Greek speakers shouldn't have had a clear notion of what nouns had long endings in Ancient Greek, to base their decision on how to accent their compounds.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat it does look like, is that Modern Greek inherited a lot of verbal nominal compounds, with non-recessive accent; and they also got a lot of compounds with default recessive accent. Modern Greek couldn't tell from the morphology which compounds were built on verbal nominals. But they could see that there was *some* sort of pattern, and they guessed what the pattern was, with the evidence they had before them: the endings they could see.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI pulled off the shelf Konstantinos Minas' commentary on Modern Greek grammar—\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΜηνάς, Κωνσταντίνος. 2008. \u003Ci\u003EΠαρατηρήσεις στη γραμματική στης νεοελληνικής\u003C\/i\u003E. Athens: Νεφέλη.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E—and Minas lets on what kind of guesswork is going on. Let me quote at some length: (pp. 39).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EFor nominals that are either compounds  or derived from compounds (parasyntheta): if their endings are characteristically permanently oxytone (stressed on the ultima), then the stress does not move: e.g. υπαρχηγός, υπολοχαγός, προσανατολισμός, αλληλοθαυμασμός, παλιοσπιτάρα, διαβλητός, προσχολικός \"deputy leader, under-captain (= lieutenant), orientation, mutual admiration, damned huge house, reproached, pre-school\". But with alpha-privative, stress moves up in adjectives: e.g. αφύσικος, αδιάκριτος \"unnatural, indiscrete\". But: αρχιστράτηγος, αντιστράτηγος, υποστράτηγος \"generalissimo, deputy general, major general\".\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUnpacking:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf a modern derivational suffix, like the augmentative -άρα, is stressed, then sticking it onto a suffix will not affect its stress. That makes sense as a layering of rules: σπίτι, παλιό-σπιτ-ο (recessive accent), παλιοσπιτ-άρα (new suffix on the compound, and that suffix is now stressed). Same goes for -μός, which has survived from Ancient Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf a suffix is an ancient derivational suffix (verbal nominal), which is stressed, then the accent does not move. This happens even when the suffixes are no longer productive. Because Modern Greek speakers don't know Ancient Greek derivational morphology, they guess what those suffixes are—they see suffixes like -τής and -ία keep their stress on existing compounds, so they maintain that pattern. That's the only meaning \"characteristically permanently oxytone\" can have for such ossified suffixes.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe alpha privative (α-, corresponding to \u003Ci\u003Eun-\u003C\/i\u003E) is always recessive in Ancient Greek (pace ἀϝεργός \u0026gt; ἀργός, the exception \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-ancient-compounds.html?showComment=1297015797972#c3967708746501850944\"\u003ETom Recht unearthed in comments\u003C\/a\u003E.) So it stayed recessive in Modern Greek, whose speakers worked out the pattern easily.\u003C\/uL\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut the patterns work by analogy: Modern Greek speakers trying to reverse engineer the Ancient Greek distinction between recessive normal compounds, and verbal nominals preserving their accent (and with obvious-looking suffixes).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere's an oddity in Minas' list: a deputy-captain (υπολοχαγός) is not recessive, but a deputy general (υποστράτηγος) is recessive. Now, the general-compounds are Ancient: ἀρχιστράτηγος is in the Septuagint and Josephus, ἀντιστράτηγος in Thucydides, ὑποστράτηγος in Xenophon. Back then, accentuation was consistently recessive. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EYes, -ηγός\/-αγός is a active psychopomp-type compound (στρατ-ηγός \"army leader\", λοχ-αγός \"company leader\"), which is accent-preserving. But preposition + \"army leader\" is treated as a new compound, and is accented from scratch, ignoring the existing accent of the compound. So Minas has got the ancient rule wrong here.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOn the other hand, ὑπαρχηγός is a Modern coinage—it's not in TLG. And \"under-captain\" *is* in Xenophon... as the recessive ὑπολόχαγος. So Modern learnèd Greek is getting the recessive accentuation wrong: it's reaccenting the word as accent-preserving.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI haven't researched the history of why υπολοχαγός is accented where it is; but I'm reminded of the ugliness of contemporary coinages like μετααποικιακός \"post-colonial\", \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/aspiration-questions.html\"\u003Ewhich ignore hiatus\u003C\/a\u003E—something both Ancient Greek and Vernacular Modern Greek respect. I think such learnèd modern coinages did not have the scholarship of Puristic to get the Ancient rules right, and aren't colloquial enough to get the Modern rules right. The result was not to apply the phonological rules that smooth compounds over—eliminating hiatus, reaccenting the word recessively. There is a fearfulness from the coiners of such words about getting them right, which leaves the compound components undigested and intact, violating the phonology of both languages. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo it's no surprise that when the modern fad of using \u003Ci\u003Epara-\u003C\/i\u003E as a productive prefix with nouns arrived in Greek (modelled after \u003Ci\u003Eparamilitary\u003C\/i\u003E), the word was applied without recessive accent: παρα-στρατός \"para-army\", παρα-κράτος \"para-regime\". Of course, these compounds are endocentric (a para-army is a kind of army), and have no precedent in older Greek: ἀπό-κρατος is an exocentric adjective, \"without strength\" (\"de-strength-ed\"), and ἀπόστρατος \"de-armied\" is a Modern but Classically-correct exocentric adjective, meaning \"demobbed\". When the novel usage arrived, word coiners just weren't as scrupulous about accent: the words were being coined in a linguistic Neutral Zone, beyond the reach of Ancient or Modern rules.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EPuristic Greek has a lot to answer for.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm going to propose out of whole cloth the following as ways Greek speakers would guess what's going on with compound accent in the modern language. My guess is, if people have the choice between preserving the accent on Y, or accenting X–Y as a new word (recessively), there will be factors like these influencing them:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe more the X–Y compound is like Y in isolation, the likelier that Y will preserve its stress. That's other things being equal, and is assuming that stress is iconic—it reflects Y being somehow unchanged in the compound. In particular:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf X–Y is exocentric, it's not describing a Y, and it's likelier to be recessive. If X–Y is endocentric, it's likelier to preserve accent. (I think that's part of the reason behind παραστρατός.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf X–Y switches inflection, e.g. replacing -ι with -ο, then the second half of the word no longer looks like Y. So it will be recessive.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf a derivational suffix is added to a compound, then its accent takes priority: it shouldn't matter whether it is added to a compound or a simple word, the derivational suffix is the last thing to affect the word.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf there is an obvious precedent of a verbal nominal suffix preserving its accent in compounds, and the word looks like ending in that suffix (even if it etymologically doesn't), the accept will stay put. By analogy.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the accent would obviously violate the precedent of the Ancient three mora rule, because words with those inflections have not switched accent in Modern Greek, then the accent does not move. (So -η or -ης would not normally have an accent three syllables back.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the inflection is new to Modern Greek,  there is no precedent from Ancient Greek about whether to have recessive or non-recessive accent—leave the accent in place. (E.g. loanwords from Romance or Turkish in -ες.) In that case, whether to move the accent back to the antepenult depends on whether there is precent in simple nouns for accent on the antepenult: again, analogy with precedent. \u003Cbr \/\u003EAs it happens, there are no nouns ending in -ες and accented on the antepenult. A compound of a such a noun isn't going to be the first such noun to be accented on the antepenult: compounds will not invent new accentuation in the paradigm, when Greek speakers are so desperately looking for precedent. Just as I'd argued for *φραγκοράφτης \"Western tailor\"; the accentuation *ψευτόκαφες \"bogus coffee\" should also be impossible, for the same reason. (Unsurprisingly, Google only finds 3 instances of ψευτοκαφές, and none of ψευτόκαφες.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EOn the other hand, if a noun is two-syllables long and recessively accented, it's going to look like all the other two-syllable nouns which are recessive in compounds, and it will be under pressure to follow suit.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere will be contradictory outcomes because of the contrary pressures. The word \"priest\", παπάς, has an ending that's post-Classical (it's Koine, not Early Modern); but unlike -ες, you can point to -ας words accented in the antepenult; so recessive accent is possible for -παπάς compunds. \"Damned priest\" is the accent-preserving παλιοπαπάς; there would have been little precedent for compounds either way, and the outcome seems to have been to leave the accent alone. On the other hand, one of Kazantzakis' favourite invectives is τραγόπαπας, \"goat-priest\", with recessive accent. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI admit, I'm not sure how to explain this, except to speculate that παλιο- has less semantic weight than \"goat\", so was less likely to affect the accent of the compound—and that, because of recessive -ας nouns in Modern Greek, the accent of -άς compounds could go either way. The fact that there are such inconsistencies in accentuation shows that Modern Greek has not come up with a consistent rule, to deal with the twin system it inherited from Ancient Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'm not happy with where I've got to; so I'm going to do a quantitative survey of Greek compounding next post, and see what that tells me.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/5388611132739949054\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html#comment-form","title":"9 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/5388611132739949054"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/5388611132739949054"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-modern-compounds-speculations.html","title":"Accent in Modern Compounds: Speculations"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/-RbMk6trcxI\/default.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"9"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-2594423291809221542"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-07T01:21:00.000+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T00:44:49.391+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Accent in Ancient compounds"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"We \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/how-greek-accentuation-works.html\"\u003Eleft off with\u003C\/a\u003E the tendencies on how to accent words in Ancient and Modern Greek. But our target (or at least, my target) is to work out the rules behind the accent of ξέμαγκας, a compound. Which means we now get to look at the rules for how to accent a compound in Ancient Greek—before we sneak a peek (which may not be linguistically impeccable) at how Modern Greek tried to reinterpret those rules.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAccentuation of simple stems in Ancient Greek, we saw, is mostly recessive; two thirds of the time for nominals. Accentuation of compounds is also mostly recessive. On top of that default, Ancient Greek has a couple of floating islands of delicate semantic distinctions made by accent. And in between the floating islands and the recessive default, there is a sludge of accent confusion.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo navigate the confusion, I'm going to refer to a German, as one always should when looking at Ancient Greek grammar. Todays's (Swiss) German is: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/de.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Albert_Debrunner\"\u003EAlbert Debrunner\u003C\/a\u003E. 1917. \u003Ci\u003EGriechische Wortbildungslehre\u003C\/i\u003E. Heidelberg: Carl Winters. (Available at \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.archive.org\/stream\/griechischewortb00debruoft\"\u003Earchive.org\u003C\/a\u003E.) On pp. 77–79, Debrunner tries to work out rules for where accents go in compounds, and he almost succeeds:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the second word in the compound is a monosyllable, the compound is accented on the ultima if the monosyllable is long (εὐ-κράς \u0026lt; κρᾱς), and on the penult if the monosyllable is short (εὔ-ζυξ \u0026lt; ζῠξ). It's like the three-mora rule has turned into a two-mora rule for these compounds, and there's an extra mora somewhere that we're not seeing.\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, there \u003Ci\u003Eis\u003C\/i\u003E an extra mora, at least for some of these monosyllables: it's the lengthening of syllable through the final cluster. A final short vowel followed by \/-ps\/ or \/-ks\/ counts as two moras, and cannot be accented on the antepenult: φύλᾰξ \"guard\" produces οἰκο-φύλᾰξ \"house-guard\", not *οἰκό-φυλᾰξ. But working out what's happening here properly would need more Indo-European skills than I command; so I'm going to move on from these.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EExocentric compounds with simple nouns are recessive. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Bahuvrihi\"\u003EExocentric compounds (bahuvrihi)\u003C\/a\u003E are compounds where X–Y is not a Y, but something else—typically an adjective; so εὔ-θυμος \"merry\" does not describe a θυμός (\"mood\"), but a person who is \"good-mooded\". Notice that the original accent of θυμός has been scratched: whatever the accent on Y used to be, an exocentric X-Y is recessive. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EExocentric componds with verbal nominals (nouns and adjectives derived from verbs) are recessive, so long as X is not a preverb: θεό-δμητος \"built by a god\", ἄ-γνωστος \"un-known\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EProper names in Ancient Greek are often exocentric compounds, which is why they are usually recessive: Δημό-κριτος \"judged by the people = Democritus\", Θρασύ-μαχος \"bold in battle = Thrasymachus\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Endocentric\"\u003EEndocentric compounds\u003C\/a\u003E where Y is a simple nominal—are also recessive: σύν \"with\" + δοῦλος \"slave\" = σύνδουλος \"fellow slave\", ἰατρός \"doctor\" + μάντις \"soothsayer\" =  ἰατρόμαντις \"doctor-cum-soothsayer\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESo what *isn't* recessive? For starters, compounds where Y is an adjective ending in -ης -ες. The rule there seems to be, the ultima is accented if the penult is short (εὐ-γενής \"good-breeded\" = \"noble\"), and accent is recessive if the penult is long (εὐ-ώδης \"good-smelled\" = \"fragrant\"). This is an exception to the exocentric rule, and it has exceptions of its own. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EProper names ending in -ης -ες are recessive no matter what the penult length—because of analogy with all those other exocentric proper names: Σω-κράτης (κρᾰτης) \"having saving power = Socrates\", in contrast to ἰσο-κρατής \"having equal power\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EOn the other hand, there are  -ης -ες compounds where the penult is long but which are still stressed on the ultima, and Debrunner has no idea why: ἀ-ψευδής \"un-false = truthful\", νη-μερτής \"un-erring\".\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBut the real source of compounds that aren't recessively accented, as I hinted, are preverb + verbal nominal compounds. In such compounds, each suffix has its own rule. Some suffixes keep their accent in compounding: βολή \"throwing\" \u0026gt; ­ὑπο-βολή \"throwing under; secretly substituting; reminding\". Others are recessive: στάσις \"standing, station\" \u0026gt; ἀνά-στασις \"resurgence; resurrection\". (You can tell that the -σις ending is recessive from other verbs, like αἰσθάνομαι \"I sense\" \u0026gt; αἴσθησις \"sensation\".)\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EStill other preverb + verbal nominal compounds allow both accents; those are the two floating islands I referred to earlier. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003E-τος distinction\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe first floating island of a neat distinction is with verbal adjectives ending in -τος—which are equivalent to passive participles. Tucked away in grammars (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/icarus.umkc.edu\/sandbox\/perseus\/smyth_eng\/page.43.a.php\"\u003ESmyth 425c\u003C\/a\u003E) is the observation that if they are recessive, they indicate a permanent state of affairs; if they are oxytone, they do not. So ἐξαιρετός is something that can be picked out at any time—removable; the removal is not permanent. But ἐξαίρετος is something that has been picked out for good—something that is not \"selected\", but \"select\": something choice, special.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI get the impression this rule gets more attention from students of New Testament Greek than of Classical Greek, because it explains \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.biblegateway.com\/passage\/?search=john%2014:16\u0026version=NIV\"\u003EJohn 14:16\u003C\/a\u003E: the Holy Spirit as the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Paraclete\"\u003EParaclete\u003C\/a\u003E is not who you call on to your aid as a one-off (παρακλητός), but as a long standing intercessor (παράκλητος). \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe distinction is real enough in Ancient Greek; but I have to question how real the rule was as late as the New Testament. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Cassius_Dio\"\u003EDio Cassius\u003C\/a\u003E, writing a century later, uses the same word παράκλητος (in the genitive plural παρακλήτων); but LSJ glosses his use as \"summoned\" (46.20.2:  τὴν ἀγορὰν καὶ τὸ Καπιτώλιον ἄλλων τέ τινων καὶ δούλων παρακλήτων πληρώσας \"Did you not [...] fill the Forum and the Capitol with slaves, among others, whom you had \u003Ci\u003Esummoned\u003C\/i\u003E to help you?\") That is a temporary rather than permanent state of affairs; but Dio Cassius is not taking the opportunity to make the fine distinction. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you want to understand why John the Evangelist use παράκλητος, it's more useful to look at how the word was used further back in time, when the rule was still operative: in Demosthenes, to mean \"legal assistant, advocate\". That meaning, too, refers to a permanent state of affairs. But the coding of permanence through the accent location is something that happened in Athens, not Judaea. John the Evangelist probably didn't have access to the fine distinction between παρακλητός and παράκλητος any more, if Dio Casssius didn't. (And whaddaya know, while \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Authorized_King_James_Version\"\u003EKJV\u003C\/a\u003E has \"Comforter\" in John 14:16, and the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/New_American_Standard_Bible\"\u003ENASB\u003C\/a\u003E has \"Helper\", \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/New_International_Version\"\u003ENIV\u003C\/a\u003E has \"Advocate\".)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's noticeable in fact that the semantic distinction in accent does not get a lot of prominence in general. Debrunner book-length treatise on compounding doesn't mention it at all; and LSJ gives it short shrift as well in its definitions. This was a nice distinction, but not a distinction that endured. As Nikos Sarantakos likes to say, and I'll quote him again: \"Nice distinctions burn nicely.\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003Eo-grade adjective distinction\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe second floating island is noticed by Debrunner, and he spends some time on it. Greek has nouns of the form CοCος, related to verbs of the form C(ε\/ο)Cω. These nouns typically indicate an agent doing the verb: so τρέφω :: τροφός \"I feed :: feeder\", πέμπω :: πομπός \"I send :: sender\", λέγω :: λόγος \"I say :: speech\" (but \"speaker\" in compounds).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Apophony#Indo-European_ablaut\"\u003Eablaut\u003C\/a\u003E going on, which is why we can refer to these nouns as o-grade. As the ablaut in the stem indicates, this alternation is Indo-European–old, and the noun is not considered as derived from the verb, the way πεμπ-τός \"send\" or λεκ-τέος \"to be spoken\" would be. But speakers of Ancient Greek were not historical linguists, and the nouns looked like verbal nominals. Which allowed an accent distinction to be set up.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAncient Greek used these nouns in X–Y compounds in an active sense, to indicate that Y was doing X: ψυχο-πομπος \"sender of souls, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Psychopomp\"\u003Epsychopomp\u003C\/a\u003E\" (Hermes escorting souls to the underworld). But Ancient Greek also used these nouns in X–Y compounds in a passive sense to indicate that Y had X done to it: θεο-πομπος \"sent by God, God-sent\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe passive sense looks like any number of exocentric compounds: X–Y is not a Y (a sender), but something else (a sendee), just as εὔ-θυμος is not a mood, but a mood-ee. The passive sense also looks like passive compounds with verbal nominals, like θεό-δμητος \"built by God\". \"Built by God\" has a recessive accent, and so does \"sent by God\": θεό-πομπος.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe active sense, on the other hand, is not exocentric, and it did not look like the normal endocentric compounds. What it looked like was a verbal nominal compound: remember, Greek speakers couldn't really differentiate between πομπός \"sender\" and πεμπτός \"sent\"—or for that matter πεμπτήρ \"sender\". Verbal nominals tended to keep their accent in compounds. So ψυχο-πομπος was also made to keep its accent: ψυχο-πομπός. And this has turned into a general distinction in accentuation between active and passive senses: βούστροφος \"ox-ploughed\" :: βουστρόφος \"ox-guiding\", πολύτροφος \"well-fed\" :: πολυτρόφος \"nutritious\", φυτοσκάφος \"digging around plants\" :: φυτόσκαφος \"dug in preparation for plants\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis distinction too breaks down eventually; while Diodorus Siculus and Lucian correctly use  εὔτροφος to mean \"well-nourished\", \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Theophrastus\"\u003ETheophrastus\u003C\/a\u003E uses it to mean both \"well-nourished\", and instead of εὐτρόφος to mean \"nourishing\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EἘνιαχοῦ δὲ οὐ γίνονται τὸ ὅλον ἶπες ὅταν εὔπνους τε καὶ μὴ ἔνυγρος μηδ’ εὔτροφος ὁ τόπος ὑπάρχῃ. \"In some places woodworms do not appear when the place is well-ventilated, and neither damp nor nourishing. (De Causis Plantarum 3.22.6)\u003Cbr \/\u003Eοὐ δύναται δ’ ἅμα ταῦτα διὰ τὴν πρότερον λεχθεῖσαν αἰτίαν, ὥσπερ τὰ εὔχυλα καὶ εὔτροφα \"And these cannot take place at the same time [both harvesting and begetting fruit] for the aforementioned reason, like juicy and well-nourished [trees].\" (De Causis Plantarum 1.20.3)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/blockquote\u003EYes, Theophrastus' is the most corrupt text of the Classical Canon; but corruption happens where confusion is easy. Again, nice distinctions burn nicely.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe oddity about the distinction made between a recessive passive and an accent-preserving active is, it seems to misapply the rule for verbal nominal accents. Verbal nominals preserve their accent in compounding, it's true; but as Debrunner put is, that only happens with preverbs—prepositions and particles. \"God\" is not a preposition, and following a noun like \"God\", the compound is meant to be recessive.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAs it turns out, the verbal suffixes for agents all end in long syllables: -τωρ, -τήρ, -της, -τής. And they would have looked like they retained their accent, notwithstanding the rule:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe agent endings in -τωρ and -της would retain their accent anyway, because of the mora rule: κυν-ηγέτης \"dog-leader\", θεο-δέκτωρ \"god-receiver\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe accented -τής ending could have gone recessive in compounds; but accenting -τής is a classical innovation (by analogy with-τήρ). So there would have been no instances of -τής at the time, to serve as a counterexample. And by Plato, the rule has broken down anyway: δημ-εραστής \"friend of the people\", not *δημ-εράστης.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EI don't see any recessive noun-agentive compounds ending in -τήρ in LSJ. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμηλο-βοτήρ \"sheep-grazer\" in Homer is not accented recessively; if it is a compound of μῆλον and βοτήρ, it is violating Debrunner's rule. We could argue instead that it is formed straight from the compound verb μηλοβοτέω \"to sheep-graze\", which would explain why the -τήρ suffix remains accented. Except that μηλοβοτέω is from Hesychius, and could well have been made up by Hesychius to explain μηλοβοτήρ. Likewise, we can't derive δημ-εραστής from δημεραστέω \"to love the people\", because Olympiodorus made up the verb δημεραστέω to explain δημ-εραστής—at around the same time as Hesychius.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EGreek-speakers wouldn't have seen those subtleties; they would have seen a bunch of agentive suffixes keeping their accents in compounds. So, with the misunderstanding (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Abductive_reasoning\"\u003Elogical abduction\u003C\/a\u003E) that underlies linguistic change, they treated o-grade nominals like -τρόφος as yet another agentive suffix preserving its suffix. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, now that I look at μηλοβοτήρ, I'm not convinced Debrunner's rule does apply here. Debrunner's examples of recessive noun+verbal nominal compounds all involve -τος adjectives, which are usually semantically passive. If Homer accented the noun as μηλοβοτήρ, that shows that agentive suffixes, which are semantically active, kept their accent from the beginning, whether preceded by a preposition or a noun. And in that case, making an agentive -τρόφος or -λόγος  preserve its accent was not particularly wrong.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOur second nice distinction, then, seems to hinge on a rule that Greek-speakers may have worked out on the spot—or may have got more right than Debrunner did, to begin with.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat second distinction came close to being stillborn in Proto-Greek: nice distinctions burn nicely, because they are so fragile to phonological change. The suffix -πομπός corresponds to the noun πομπός, but the suffix -τρόφος corresponds to the noun τροφός. The suffix is -τρόφος, not *-τροφός,  because of an old phonological rule Debrunner reports, that the accent went to the penult in words with dactylic metre (short–short–long). (In -οτροφος, the final \/s\/ makes the final syllable metrically long, so the rule applies; in -οπομπος, the middle \/mp\/ makes the middle syllable metrically long, so the rule does not apply.) \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf that rule had made the accent go to the antepenult instead of the penult for -τροφος, we would have lost our fine distinction between active and passive compounds. Or rather, we would have lost it a millennium before Theophrastus forgot about it.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003Epseudo-\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe system Debrunner describes is early Greek, and compounding gets more complicated the later you get. There is an innovating class of compounds where there is reason not to have recessive accent, but to have the accent preserved. These are X–Y compounds where X is originally a nominal, but has turned into a prefix, with a very simple meaning. Many of those prefixes are familiar to English: \u003Ci\u003Ephilo-, neo-, pseudo-, miso-, archi-, homo-\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOld Greek had prefixes that were prefixes: \u003Ci\u003Ea-, dys-, eu-, hemi-\u003C\/i\u003E. Being old, those prefixes had recessive accentuation. But when a new batch of such prefixes was created, Greek started making a new accent distinction. If the first half of the compound was a full-fledged word, accentuation was recessive—because the X–Y compound was a different thing than the Y itself; so it was accented as a new word. But if the first half of the compound was a prefix like \"philo-\",  Y could keep its accent, because X was semantically subsidiary to Y. So Diogenes Laertes could accent φιλο-γενναιος \"loving what is noble\", not as φιλογένναιος, but φιλογενναῖος.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe accents get preserved in Y only in late Greek; a lover of the grape in Phanocritus (preserved in Athenaeus) is still φιλόβοτρυς, not φιλοβότρυς. We can follow the development of \u003Ci\u003Epseudo-\u003C\/i\u003E with Debrunner (p. 57).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ETo begin with, Homer has ψευδ-άγγελος \"messenger of falsehood\". This is a normal endocentric compound, and it's recessively accented—although ἄγγελος itself is recessive, so you could not tell if the compound were not recessive. Semantically, this is an agentive compound, like μηλοβοτήρ \"sheep-grazer\"; so it follows that established pattern.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAristophanes has ψευδολόγος \"falsehood-talker\". This is an o-grade compound like πολυτρόφος \"nourishing\" or ψυχοπομπός \"soul-sender\"; and again, it is an active, agentive compound.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESophocles has ψευδοκῆρυξ \"herald of falsehood\", which is still recessive—remember that final \/-ks\/ counts as an extra mora.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eψευδό-μαντις \"false prophet\" in Herodotus is unambiguously recessive.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EDebrunner confidently brings up ψευδόμαρτυς \"false witness\" as another recessive instance. The problem is, we can only tell between a recessive ψευδόμαρτυς and an accent-preserving ψευδομάρτυς in the nominative singular; the plural ψευδομάρτυρες could belong to either. But we have no good ancient instances of either ψευδόμαρτυς or ψευδομάρτυς. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EWe have an instance reported for Critias by Pollux, but Pollux is a ii AD grammarian, and it's not clear whether Critias uses the actual form. (Pollux 6.152: \"[plural] ψευδομάρτυρες is used in Critias, and ψευδομάρτυς—I don't know where. And the same author says ψευδομαρτυρεῖν 'to bear false witness' somewhere, and Demosthenes says καταψευδομαρτυροῦμαι 'to have false witness borne against one'.\")\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThen ψευδο- starts being used as a real prefix, without Y being an agent. At the start, the accent is still recessive; ψευδόδειπνον \u0026lt; δεῖπνον \"fake dinner\" (Aeschylus), ψευδοπάρθενος \u0026lt; παρθένος \"fake virgin\" (Herodotus), ψευδηρακλῆς \u0026lt; Ἡρακλέης \"fake Heracles\" (Pherecrates)—remember that final circumflexes are recessive in proto-Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EAnd then the recessive accent stops. Debrunner quotes Lucian as using ψευδάττικος \u0026lt; Ἀττικός \"fake Atticist\"; but our edition of Lucian has Ψευδαττικόν, and Phrynichus castigates ψευδαττικοί for their poor usage. (Yet another instance of the fish-in-a-barrel sport of catching a pedant erring against the language standard he fetishises.) Diogenes Laertius cites a comic using ψευδαλαζών \"lying braggart\"; Josephus has ψευδιερεύς \"false priest\"; Dio Cassius has ψευδαντωνῖνος \"pseudo-Antoninus\", Ignatius of Antioch has ψευδοϊουδαῖος \"fake Jew\", Epiphanius has Ψευδοβραχμᾶνες \"fake Brahmins\".\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt could be that these examples reflect a general breakdown in accent placement, and aren't specific to prefixes like \u003Ci\u003Epseudo-\u003C\/i\u003E and \u003Ci\u003Ephilo-\u003C\/i\u003E. I hope they don't, because I plan to use them in my argument in a couple of posts.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ch4\u003EConclusion for now\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo. It's an analogical mess, as language synchrony is once you look at the diachronic fine print; but we do have an overall picture:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ECompound stress is recessive by default, except for:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EX–Y compounds where Y is a single syllable. (They didn't survive into Modern Greek)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EX-Y compounds where Y is an adjective ending in -ης -ες after a short syllable—and X–Y is not a name. (They didn't survive into Modern Greek either.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ELots of X–Y compounds where Y is a verbal nominal, and X is a preverb.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIt looks like some X–Y compounds where Y is a verbal nominal, and X *isn't* a preverb—notably, Y as an agentive.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe verbal nominals are consistent for each distinct suffix—except for a fine distinction of permanent vs temporary -τος compounds (which didn't survive), and a less fine distinction of active vs passive o-grade nominals (like -πομπός and -τρόφος).\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat does this mean for Modern Greek? With all the distinctions that didn't survive, a safe default of recessive accent, and lot of exceptions involving verbal nominals. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWith no clear sense of what was and what wasn't a verbal nominal, because the verbs those nominals came from often had not survived. Which throws the Modern Greek system into disarray, and that is the topic of the next post.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/2594423291809221542\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-ancient-compounds.html#comment-form","title":"13 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2594423291809221542"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/2594423291809221542"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/accent-in-ancient-compounds.html","title":"Accent in Ancient compounds"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"13"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-1149574034335024316"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-06T14:20:00.003+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-06T15:09:30.103+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"How Greek accentuation works"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html\"\u003EIn a previous post\u003C\/a\u003E, I accented ΞΕΜΑΓΚΑΣ \"the un-\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mangas\"\u003Emangas\u003C\/a\u003E, the ex-mangas\" as ξεμάγκας. Nikos Sarantakos pointed out the correct accent is ξέμαγκας. I see why that is the correct accent, though it still looks wrong to me.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo explain why, I'm going to spend the next few posts building up to this explanation of what has happened:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EThe accentuation of ξέμαγκας follows the normal recessive default, which has survived into Modern Greek for compounds. Though μάγκας as a first-declension noun would not have allowed antepenult accent in Ancient Greek, the Modern system ignores that restriction for -ας, where there is no analogical form imposing the Classical penult stress (unlike -ης nouns). My notion was that the accent was preserved because ξε- was used quotatively, as with μα και ξε-μά.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf that paragraph made sense to you, what I am going to write about won't have any real surprises. If not, stay tuned. What I'm going to build up, post by post, is an explanation of how accents work in compounds in Modern Greek. To get there, I will be going through \u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Ehow accentuation works in Ancient Greek; \u003Cli\u003Ehow it has changed into Modern Greek; \u003Cli\u003Ehow compounds accent in Ancient Greek; \u003Cli\u003Ehow Modern Greek has tried to realign the Ancient compound accent rules; \u003Cli\u003Eand finally, why a different construction made me get the accent wrong.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003ETowards the end, I'm going to do something silly; I'm going to try and work out the Modern accent rules for compounds on my own, rather than look them up. (Unless I find a good statement of the rules, next time I'm going through my photocopies in the garage.) Phonology was never my thing, so I haven't researched the topic explicitly; and I don't have the library access I used to. I'm reasonably sure someone *has* already worked these rules out. Me needlessly duplicating that effort promises to be fun for you, and embarrassing for me. Or vice versa.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo. How does Ancient Greek accentuation work? This is standard stuff for Ancient Greek grammar, but let's run through it, because Ancient Greek phonology is not always taught properly—particularly in Greece. You can get the standard presentation from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/icarus.umkc.edu\/sandbox\/perseus\/smyth_eng\/page.18.a.php\"\u003ESmyth's Grammar\u003C\/a\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003E(And I rejoice that, by linking to the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/icarus.umkc.edu\"\u003ECHLT site\u003C\/a\u003E copy of Smyth, I no longer have to link to \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/\"\u003EPerseus'\u003C\/a\u003E buggy, clunky, crashy, crappy interface, even if where I link to is still the Perseus encoded Smyth.)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you're having to learn how to accent in the polytonic, particularly in Greece's ossified paedagogical system, you are pummelled with the various possible permutations of accent on words:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eoxytone: last syllable (ultima) has an acute: ἀνήρ\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eparoxytone: second last syllable (penult) has an acute: γέρων\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eproparoxytone: third last syllable (antepenult) has an acute: εὔλογος\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eperispomenon: last syllable has a circumflex: Ἀθηνᾶ\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eproperispomenon: second last syllable has a circumflex: κοῖτος\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you actually try to work out how Ancient Greek accentuation works, though, things are simpler than that. There is one major distinction between kinds of accent in Greek. The rest are either subclasses, or minor exceptions.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe major distinction is, is the word accented as far back from the end as possible, or not? If it is, its accent is recessive. The Roman-era grammarians of Greek were rather more intelligent than the schoolmasters of Modern Greece, and they worked out that this distinction was more important; so they gave it a separate Greek name: barytone. (I know that Smyth says barytone is anything accented before the ultima, but barytone is usually used to mean recessive.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWith the five types we saw, barytone cuts across them:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003E\u003Cth\u003EOne syllable long\u003Cth\u003ETwo syllables long\u003Cth\u003EThree syllables long\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EOxytone\u003Ctd\u003EBarytone\u003Ctd\u003ENot\u003Ctd\u003ENot\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EParoxytone\u003Ctd\u003E—\u003Ctd\u003EBarytone\u003Ctd\u003EBarytone if last syllable long\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EProparoxytone\u003Ctd\u003E—\u003Ctd\u003E—\u003Ctd\u003EBarytone\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EPerispomenon\u003Ctd\u003EBarytone\u003Ctd\u003EDepends on proto-Greek vowels\u003Ctd\u003EDepends on proto-Greek vowels\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EProperispomenon\u003Ctd\u003E—\u003Ctd\u003EBarytone\u003Ctd\u003ENot\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELet me explain. Accentuation in Ancient Greek is restricted to occuring in the last three (or four) moras of a word. A \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mora_(linguistics)\"\u003Emora\u003C\/a\u003E is like a syllable, only a long vowel or diphthong has two of them. So a word has recessive accent, if it occurs on the third last mora: that's as far back as the accent can go. Except, the penult is treated as having only one mora, whether it's long or short. (That's the \"or four\".)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the ultima is short (that's one mora), and we treat the penult as a single mora (that's two moras), then the accent can be as far back as the antepenult (that's three moras). e.g. ἄνθρωπος (short–long–short, moras: 1.1.1)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the ultima is long (that's two moras), then the accent can be as far back as the penult (that's three moras). e.g. προσῳδίᾱ (short–long–short–long, moras: 1.2.1.2) \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the word is a properispomenon (circumflex on second last syllable), its ultima must be short: that's how circumflexes work. So if that word has three syllables, it can't be recessive: the recessive accent should be three syllables back. e.g. κυπρῖνος (short–long–short, moras: 1.2.1) \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf the word is perispomenon, that \u003Ci\u003Ealways\u003C\/i\u003E means that in proto-Greek, the final syllable was initially two vowels that have been contracted. For example, the citation verb ending -ῶ is proto-Greek *άω, *έω, or *όω. Homeric Greek in fact did still preserve *άω and *έω as verb endings, which is how Roman-era grammarians were able to work out the proto-Greek system.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf you look at what the proto-Greek vowels are behind a perispomenon, the accent could still be recessive. Proto-Greek *όω counts as three moras (short–long); that means *δηλόω is recessively accented, and so is its attested counterpart δηλῶ.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe mora restriction is confirmed by the behaviour of enclitics—words that are suffixed to a phonological word, without their own accent, so they end up adding to the mora count. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf a proparoxytone has an enclitic suffixed, its accent ends up not three, but four or five moras from the end of the new phonological word. To fix this, a secondary accent is added to the ultima. So ἄνθρωπος τις is phonologically \/án.tʰrɔː.pos.tis\/, with the accent now four moras back; to fix this, it is accented as ἄνθρωπός τις.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EIf a properispomenon has an enclitic suffixed, its accent ends up four or five moras from the end as well. Again, to fix this a secondary accent is added to the ultima. So κῆπος τις is phonologically \/kɛ̂ː.pos.tis\/, and the circumflex is now four moras back (kɛ̂ː is two moras, being long). This is fixed by accenting it as κῆπός τις.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow with those rules, accent is distributed like this:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EVerbs are in almost all cases recessive. There are a few inflections that aren't recessive (see \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/icarus.umkc.edu\/sandbox\/perseus\/smyth_eng\/page.43.a.php\"\u003ESmyth\u003C\/a\u003E)—certain imperatives and optatives; and participles and infinitives, which behave like nominals. There's also some interplay of the augment and accent, and there is real confusion about prefixed subjunctives and optatives; but our endpoint does not involve verbs, so I won't spent any time on them.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ENominals—adjectives and nouns—are by default recessive.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's only a default, and it's not a strong default. The following counts are taken from around 120,000 noun and adjective stems in LSJ and LSJ Supplement, for which the TLG lemmatiser has a definite analysis:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ERecessive: 79,953\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EUltima stress (syllables \u0026gt; 1): 30,401\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EPenult stress (syllables \u0026gt; 2, short ultima): 9096\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo verbs in most inflections, and two thirds of all nominals, are recessive. That includes two-syllable–long words accented in their initial syllable, and one-syllable–long words. Most remaining nouns, and a few inflections, are stressed on the ultima. Penult stress—as distinct from recessive stress—is much less common: only a tenth of all nominals, and a few (though common) verb inflections—notably perfect passive participles, and most infinitives.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's Ancient Greek accentuation; how about Modern? \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EModern Greek no longer has long and short syllables. The three-somethings-back restriction on accent location survives in most dialects of Greek, but now the \"somethings\" are just syllables (since any syllable just has one of them). Enclitics still generate secondary stress: άνθρωπος μου \/ˈan.θro.pos.mu\/ is accented as άνθρωπός μου (though nowadays people sometimes forget to write the second accent). κήπος μου on the other hand doesn't need a second accent, since the accent in \/ˈki.pos.mu\/ is just three syllables back: there are no double moras for the η, because there is no longer a long vowel there.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAccent in Greek is now stress based rather than pitch based—which is why monotonic accentuation can dispense with the circumflex; and accent is still by default recessive. Recessive accent in Ancient Greek is defined by the accent going as far back as the Ancient moras allowed. Recessive accent in Modern Greek is defined by the accent going as far back as the Ancient moras allow.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E... Seriously. What's actually happened is, the location of stress is unchanged for any words that survived from Ancient into Modern Greek. So the Ancient rules for where the accent goes still apply to those words in Modern Greek. The only time where accent location is reevaluated, is when Greek-speakers realised there was something odd with where the accent now was; and the only reason for them to realise it is, they were comparing it to something else. Which means analogy.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnalogy has a long history of rearranging accentuation of feminine nominals; let's go through some snapshots.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EDiphthongs are long syllables, so a word ending in -οι should not be accented on the antepenult: the -οι already counts as two moras. However, most instances of -οι as an inflection, including the nominative masculine plural, are treated as short: ἄνθρωπος :: ἄνθρωποι, πρῶτος :: πρῶτοι. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe feminine nominative plural ending -αι is also treated as short: θάλασσα : θάλασσαι , πρώτη :: πρῶται\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBut does not mean -αι is recessively accented. If the feminine noun ends in short -α, it is accented on the antepenult in the nominative singular (θάλασσα), and the same happens in the plural, with its short -αι (θάλασσαι). Most feminine nouns, however, end in long -ᾱ (or -η, which developed from Proto-Greek -ᾱ). When those nouns are recessively accented, their accent stays on the penult in the singular, following the mora rule. But in the plural, their accent stays on the penult, even though -αι is supposed to be short: ἡμέρᾱ :: ἡμέραι, not *ἥμεραι. The accent may be recessive, but it's more important for the nominative plural to have the same accent as the nominative singular.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThat's nouns. In adjectives, the feminine singular nominative also ends in in long -ᾱ (or -η). So if the adjective has recessive accent, the masculine and neuter singular (ending in short vowels) have the accent in a different place from the feminine, because of the feminine's extra mora: δεύτερος :: δευτέρᾱ :: δεύτερον\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBut whereas the plural of ἡμέρᾱ is ἡμέραι, the plural of δευτέρᾱ is δεύτεραι. For the noun, the powerful analogy was between nominative singular and nominative plural. For the adjective, the analogy is not with the singular, but with the other genders in the plural: δεύτεροι :: δεύτεραι :: δεύτερα.\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the singular, the extra mora prevented the masculine and feminine from having their accent in the same place. In the plural, with -αι considered short, the extra mora is no longer in the way, and the pressure to match the masculine and neuter accent carries the day. For an adjective, as opposed to a noun, the other genders matter, and can force analogical change. In fact, that analogy is the only difference between feminine adjective and noun declension.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESo far, we've seen analogy in Ancient Greek. Ancient Greek was constrained by moras not to clean up the accent discrepancy in the singular δεύτερος :: δευτέρᾱ :: δεύτερον. But Modern Greek has no moras.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EWhich meant Modern Greek speakers noticed that the accent of δευτέρᾱ was odd, compared to δεύτερος and δεύτερον, and fixed it. In addition, whereas Attic stopped -ᾱ going to -η after \/r, i, e\/, Modern Greek allowed -η after \/r\/ as well, which makes adjectives ending in -ρος -ρη -ρον look like other adjecives. (Adjectives ending in \/-ios\/ remained separate.) \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EHence the singular of the adjective is now δεύτερος :: δεύτερη :: δεύτερο. That violates the Ancient mora rule; but there are no moras now to make that matter. Still, Modern Greek only violates the Ancient mora rule here, because there was good analogical reason to. ἡμέρᾱ has still kept its accent, as μέρα, and ἀγάπη has not changed to *άγαπη.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUnlike Ancient Greek, there are now nouns ending in -η which are accented on the antepenult—violating the mora constraint like δεύτερη does. But they too are the result of analogy: they are the third declension feminine nouns which in Ancient Greek ended in -ῐς. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESince -ῐς was short, if those nouns were recessive, they were accented on the antepenult: ἄνοιξις. Modern Greek got rid of its third declension quite comprehensively; when it came to these nouns (nom. \u003Ci\u003E-is\u003C\/i\u003E, gen. \u003Ci\u003E-eos\u003C\/i\u003E, acc. \u003Ci\u003E-in\u003C\/i\u003E), the obvious thing to do was to move them across to the feminine first declension (nom. \u003Ci\u003E-i\u003C\/i\u003E, gen. \u003Ci\u003E-is\u003C\/i\u003E, acc. \u003Ci\u003E-i\u003C\/i\u003E). The endings are pretty much the same in Modern Greek, so there was no good reason to shift the accent location: ἄνοιξις, ἀνοίξεως, ἄνοιξιν became άνοιξη, άνοιξης, άνοιξη.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you're brought up on Ancient Greek, άνοιξη is nonsensical: an eta has two moras, it can never be accented like that. For that reason, the conservative spelling was άνοιξι, keeping the etymological iota to avoid challenging the mora. But of course Modern Greek didn't particularly care where the first declension endings were accented, when it carried them across to these third declension nouns. It didn't bother changing where the old first declension feminines were stressed; but it had no reason to change where the old third declension feminines were stressed either. In the first case, accent conservatism preserves the old mora rule; in the second case, accent conservatism, plus analogy in inflection, throw out the old mora rule.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWe just saw that Ancient Greek had first declension feminines with both a long -ᾱ\/η (ἡμέρᾱ, δευτέρᾱ) and a short -ᾰ (θάλασσα). In the masculine, though, the first declension only ever ended in a long -ᾱς (or -ης). So καταρράκτης is recessively accented, and accent conservatism means it has not gone to *κατάρραχτης.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EModern Greek does have recessive nouns ending in -ας, like γέροντας. These have a similar origin as the recessive nouns in -η, such as άνοιξη. Masculine third declension nouns were all remodelled to look like first declension nouns, and the suffix of choice was \/-as\/, following after the third declension accusative \/-a\/. So γέρων, γέροντος, γέροντα was remodelled as γέροντας, γέροντα, γέροντα, after first declension ταμίας, ταμία, ταμία(ν): nom. -Ø, gen. \u003Ci\u003E-os\u003C\/i\u003E, acc. \u003Ci\u003E-a\u003C\/i\u003E was remodelled as nom. \u003Ci\u003E-as\u003C\/i\u003E, gen. \u003Ci\u003E-a\u003C\/I\u003E, acc. \u003Ci\u003E-a\u003C\/i\u003E. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact the transition was so successful that most vernacular nouns in -ας come from third declension nouns; first declension nouns like ταμίας did not survive in colloquial use. Once the pattern was in place, proper names and other remodelled nouns could follow—like Καβάσιλας, or μάγειρας. Once again, the accent was wrong for Ancient Greek; once again, that did not matter in Modern Greek—but the accent disruption only happened because analogy introduced an innovation into the system. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBecause of the innovation of recessive nouns like γέροντας, nouns like μάγειρας were introduced, which were impossible in Ancient Greek. Because of that pattern being established in turn, it because possible for the compound ξε + μάγκας to be accented ξέ-μαγκας—whereas Bacchylides could only accent προ + κόπτᾱς as Προκόπτας.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut that brings us to the recessive accentuation of compounds, which is next post.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/1149574034335024316\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/how-greek-accentuation-works.html#comment-form","title":"7 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1149574034335024316"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1149574034335024316"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/how-greek-accentuation-works.html","title":"How Greek accentuation works"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"7"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-1669229368933042840"},"published":{"$t":"2011-02-02T16:18:00.004+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T00:45:29.775+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Aspiration questions"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Nikos Sarantakos \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html?showComment=1296477859745#c4296881085142450775\"\u003Eraised a few points\u003C\/a\u003E about my \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html\"\u003Eprevious post\u003C\/a\u003E in comments. Rather than give a post-length response in comments, here's a post-length response as a post:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003E\"b) hypercorrection re aspiration has produced some words that managed to get accepted like μέθαύριο or εφέτος.\"\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhy those hypercorrections—\"day after tomorrow; this year\", and not others? They're pretty commonplace notions, after all. LSJ has ἐφέτειος and ἐφετινός attested from ii AD, ἐφ’ ἔτος from ii BC, and καθ' ἔτος from iv BC; so it's an old hypercorrection—and I daresay not a savant one, but a product of the death-throes of when \/h\/ was actually still pronounced. The Latin-Greek glossaries record the \"correct\" μεταύριον, but I wouldn't be surprised if μεθαύριον is also that old. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo they're mis-aspirations, but i don't think they are instances of trying to resurrect old \/h\/ and failing, like the learnèd instances I noted in Byzantium—like John of Gaza or Paul of Aegina. They don't look like random misuses of \/h\/ either. μεθ' αὔριον \"after tomorrow\" could well be an analogy from μεθ’ ἡμέρας \"with the day = during daytime\";  ἔτος \"year\" could even have had the variant \/hétos\/ in classical times.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003Ec) you correctly point out the lack of elision in new coinages, albeit savant. This is something new in that even horrible hiatuses are tolerated like your μετα-αποικιακός [post-colonial] or even τηλε-εργασία [telecommuting] or the brand new νεο-οθωμανικός [neo-Ottoman], where the unelided type is equally frequent as the elided, despite the hiatus that stands out like a sore thumb. (I assume that hiatus means χασμωδία -if not, that is what I wanted it to mean).\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EYup, hiatus is indeed χασμωδία. Hiatus-avoidance is a strong feature of Greek phonology throughout its history; but we are in a transparency phase now rather than a phonological smoothing phase. That's a well-established seesaw  in language change, between forms easy to break apart and understand—but harder to pronounce; and forms easier to pronounce, but harder to break apart. Hiatus-dodging is dead for prepositional prefixes in the modern  vernacular: \/para-\/ for \"overdoing something\" is now just \/para-\/, whether it's followed by a consonant or a vowel. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESimilarly, \/tile-erɣasia\/ *is* ugly, but it has a straightforward justification: we now only have to retain one variant of \u003Ci\u003Etele-\u003C\/i\u003E in our command of Greek, and not a \u003Ci\u003Etel-\u003C\/i\u003E variant. Ancient Greek had τηλ-αυγής \"far-shining\", and we've borrowed τηλ-αισθησία \"extra-sensory perception\" from the Classically-correct French \u003Ci\u003Etélésthesie\u003C\/i\u003E. But  it's inconceivable to me that \"tele-employment\" (say) would now be coined as anything but τηλε-ασχόληση. And we're just not concerned about euphony any more. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn no small part, that's because of having Puristic spelling pronunciations contaminate our phonology. We're used to Ancient Greek loans and Puristic coinages sound ugly, because they violate modern (and for that matter ancient) phonotactics: we put up with monstrosities like εύθραυστος \/efθrafstos\/ (rather more pronouncable in antiquity as [ewtʰrawstos]). Why would be blink at \/neooθomanikos\/ or \/tileorasi\/? Learnèd words are *supposed* to sound ugly!\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(And if we were Attically correct, after all, we'd never have called \"television\" τηλεόρασις: Attic had no time for \/e.o\/ hiatus either. It should have been τηλούρασις. But there's no defending that lack of morphological transparency, when \/tile-\/ is a dead prefix anyway.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003Ea) disregarding of aspiration in new compound words is not a recent phenomenon but has started more than 100 years ago, with examples like μαργαριταλιεία or the somewhat later αυτοκινητάμαξα.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's no coincidence that Noun–Noun compounds (μαργαριταλιεία \"pearl-fishing\", αυτοκινητάμαξα \"rail-car\") dropped aspiration in learnèd Greek before Preposition-Noun compounds did. There are few prepositions and many verbs and nouns starting with \/h\/, so it's a rule whose application is in your face—even if you no longer pronounce \/h\/. It's an easy rule to remember to apply, because you see exemplars of the rule all the time.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOn the other hand, how do you realise that you should aspirate Noun-Noun compounds in Ancient Greek, if you speak a Modern Greek with no \/h\/? Take ἅμαξα \"cart\": to intuitively realise that you should aspirate a noun before it, once \/h\/ is dead, you need to have seen another compound ending in \u0026lt;hamaxa\u0026gt;, in which the preceding noun ending in \/p t k\/. There are two compounds of \u0026lt;hamaxa\u0026gt; in LSJ, and one more in Kriaras; none fulfil those criteria (ἁρμάμαξα, χειράμαξα, ἀλογάμαξα). So if you're coining \u0026lt;autokinēt(h)-hamaxa\u0026gt;, you will *not* have seen any precedent to remind you to use a theta. You're relying on the letter of the aspiration rule alone. A rule that is just orthographic juggling, as far as you're concerned; so rather easy to slip up in.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo unlike prepositional compounds, you just don't see enough examples ending in \u0026lt;-hamaxa\u0026gt;—or starting with \u0026lt;autokinēth-\u0026gt;—to intuit the pattern of aspiration needed. Because the rule is about written and not spoken Greek, you need to be consciously checking every compound you make in learnèd Greek, to realise where you need to aspirate. With prepositions like \u0026lt;apo-\u0026gt;\/\u0026lt;aph-\u0026gt; and \u0026lt;hupo-\u0026gt;\/\u0026lt;huph-\u0026gt;, OTOH, even in written Greek, you *expect* that you'll aspirate eventually; so the check is not as onerous, and it will have a higher hit-rate. (Noone will get the rule right now, with Atticism banished; but people still had incentive to get it right last century.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhich is why preposition-nouns and noun-noun compounds are a different story for the violation of aspiration. The prefix \u0026lt;aut(o)-\u0026gt;—which Nikos highlighted in his own writing—is intermediate, because there *are* plenty of instances of aspirated \u0026lt;auth-\u0026gt;: (Rattling off from LSJ: αὐθάγιος, αὐθαίμων, αὐθαίρετος, αὐθέδραστος, αὐθέκαστος, αὐθεύρετος, αὐθέψης...) So when Alexander of Aphrodisias writes αὐτο­ϋγιεία \/auto–(h)yɡieía\/ \"health, in the abstract\" instead of αὐθυγιεία \/aut–hyɡieía\/ , he really is linguistically innovating.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Alexander_of_Aphrodisias\"\u003EAlexander of Aphrodisias\u003C\/a\u003E, not Aristotle, is responsible for αὐτο­ϋγιεία btw! Alexander is citing a lost work of Aristotle, and may be modernising the aspiration.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/1669229368933042840\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/aspiration-questions.html#comment-form","title":"1 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1669229368933042840"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1669229368933042840"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/02\/aspiration-questions.html","title":"Aspiration questions"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-6551776244121772181"},"published":{"$t":"2011-01-31T03:05:00.004+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-02-18T00:45:29.776+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Byzantine Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"compounds"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"morphology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ἐκαληθεύω: an ill-fitting prefix in Choeroboscus"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"The prepositions of Ancient Greek, which were also used as verbal prefixes, had a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0007:part%3D4:chapter%3D43:section%3D101\"\u003Erich and subtle semantics\u003C\/a\u003E. As is the doom of all linguistic subtleties, the system has not survived, and the couple of dozen prefixes of antiquity have collapsed to a handful in the modern vernacular.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(How does Nikos Sarantakos put it? \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.sarantakos.com\/language\/diakriseis.htm\"\u003EΟι όμορφες διακρίσεις όμορφα καίγονται\u003C\/a\u003E. Nice distinctions burn down nicely.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe phonology of the prefixes, on the other hand, was the same as that of prepositions used as distinct words. This phonology was not particularly subtle, but it did have rules, which made sense in ancient phonology—although some prepositions dodged them. These rules have not survived into their much-attenuated modern vernacular counterparts.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe first rule is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0007:part%3D1:chapter%3D2:section%3D4\"\u003E\u003Cb\u003EElision\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E: if a preposition ends in a vowel, that vowel is lost before another vowel. So μετα-μορφῶ \/meta-morpʰɔ̂ː\/ \"I transform\", but μετ-εμόρφωσα \/met-emórpʰosa\/ \"I transformed\"; ἀντί-θεσις \/antí-tʰesis\/ \"opposition\" but ἀντ-αλλαγή \/ant-allaɡɛ́ː\/ \"exhcange\", ἐπὶ τόπου \/epì tópu\/ \"on the spot\" but ἐπ’ ἀγροῦ \/ep aɡrû\/ \"in the country\". A couple of prepositions never followed that rule: περί, πρό, and in later Greek ἀμφί.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe elision rule persisted for the rest in learnèd Greek, and indeed in 19th and early 20th century coinages: μετεκλογικός \"post-election\", μεταπελευθερωτικός \"post-liberation\" (World War II). But it was abandoned in the vernacular's prefixes (whose meaning has changed a lot):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Cth\u003EAncient\u003Cth\u003EModern\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eμετ-εῖπον \/met-eîpon\/ \"I spoke amongst\"\u003Ctd\u003Eματα-είπα \/mata-ˈipa\/ \"I said again\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eπαρ-έτρωγον \/par-étrɔːɡon\/ \"I nibbled\"\u003Ctd\u003Eπαρα-έτρωγα \/para-ˈetroɣa\/ \"I was over-eating\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eἐξ-ίδρωσα \/eks-ídrɔːsa\/ \"I perspired\"\u003Ctd\u003Eξε-ΐδωρσα \/kse-ˈiðrosa\/ \"I stopped sweating\"\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003Eἐξαν-έρχομαι \/eksan-érkʰomai\/ \"I come forth from\"\u003Ctd\u003Eξανα-έρχομαι \/ksana-ˈerxome\/ \"I come again\"\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf anything, its the next vowel which can get deleted in Modern Greek: ξαναέκανα or ξανάκανα \/ksana-ˈekana ~ ksaˈna-kana\/ \"I did again\". And contemporary coinages, however well-educated, also no longer bother with elision. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\"Anti-national\", which was coined in 1825, has elision: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=4400\u0026target_dict=1\"\u003Eαντ-εθνικός\u003C\/a\u003E. Usage has respected this: 9400 instances in Google of αντεθνικός vs. 93 of unelided αντιεθνικός. (Not least because the word got a lot of use out of the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Greek_military_junta_of_1967%E2%80%931974\"\u003EColonels' regime\u003C\/a\u003E.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\"Anti-nationalist\" on the other hand is very much a 20th century notion, and accordingly it lacks elision: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=4531\u0026target_dict=1\"\u003Eαντι-εθνικιστικός\u003C\/a\u003E (Google: 8:760). \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EThe World War II coinage \"post-liberation\" has elision, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=27256\u0026target_dict=1\"\u003Eμετ-απελευθερωτικός\u003C\/a\u003E (Google count: 9:1)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBut the Google count for \"post-colonial\" is 5:40 against elision, μετα-αποικιακός.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe second rule is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0007:part%3D1:chapter%3D3:section%3D7:subsection%3D8\"\u003E\u003Cb\u003Easpiration\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E: if a prefix ends in an unaspirated stop (once its vowel is lost), and it goes in front of a rough breathing, it becomes aspirated. In Ancient phonology, while \/h\/ existed, that is just common sense: \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμετά + ἐμόρφωσε \/metá + emórpʰɔːse\/ \u0026gt; μετ-εμόρφωσε \/met-emórpʰɔːse\/\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eμετά + ἵστημι \/metá + hístɛːmi\/ \u0026gt; \/met-hístɛːmi\/ \u0026gt; μεθ-ίστημι \/metʰ-ístɛːmi\/\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eἀπό + ἄνθρωπος \/apó + ántʰrɔːpos\/ \u0026gt; ἀπ-άνθρωπος \/ap-ántʰrɔːpos\/\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eἀπό + ἥλιος \/apó + hɛ́ːlios\/ \u0026gt; \/ap-hɛ́ːlion\/ \u0026gt; ἀφήλιον \/apʰ-ɛ́ːlion\/ \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eἐπὶ αὐτοῦ \/epì autû\/ \u0026gt; ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ \/ep autû\/\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003Eἐπὶ ἡμῖν \/epì hɛːmîn\/ \u0026gt; \/ep hɛːmîn\/ \u0026gt; ἐφ’ ἡμῖν \/epʰ hɛːmîn\/\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe aspiration is concealed somewhat in the alphabet, because \/pʰ tʰ kʰ\/ are written as single letters, \u0026lt;φ θ χ\u0026gt;. But writing \/met-hístɛːmi\/ as μεθ-ίστημι is exactly what you'd expect to write using the Ancient Greek alphabet—so long as \u0026lt;θ\u0026gt; is pronounced something like \/t-h\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBy the time of Christ, initial \/h\/ has disappeared, and \/pʰ tʰ kʰ\/ were on the way to their modern pronunciations as \/f θ x\/. So aspiration was no longer phonological common sense; it was becoming orthographic voodoo. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf a compound had survived from antiquity into your spoken language, you kept pronouncing it as an aspirated compound, even if you could no longer take it apart. That's how ἀφίημι \/apʰíɛːmi\/ \u0026lt; \/apó + híɛːmi\/ \"I let\" has ended up, after much analogical reformulation, as Modern αφήνω: noone would even begin to think of prying \/af-\/ apart from \/-ino\/, because there is no such verb as \/-ino\/. If you were making up new compounds in the vernacular, the fact that there used to be an \/h\/ there is meaningless. In any case, with elision gone for prepositional prefixes, you wouldn't  get the chance to apply aspiration.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf you were writing in learnèd Greek, on the other hand, you still tried to apply aspiration to your compounds. But applying aspiration has now became a matter of rote memorisation: you had to remember which words used to start with an \/h\/ (and were still written with a rough breathing), and you would switch the final consonant of the prefix because the grammar books said so, not because changing a \/p\/ into an \/f\/ made any phonological sense to you. Because the spelling of Greek also retained rough breathings, correct spelling in polytonic Greek involved memorising tables of words starting with rough breathings—as everyone educated in Greece before 1981 still remembers. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EYour correspondent is among the youngest people alive to whom \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/cell.capitalblogs.gr\/showArticle.asp?id=18362\u0026blid=304\"\u003Eᾅδης ἅγιος ἁγνός\u003C\/a\u003E \"Hades, holy, pure\" rings a bell. Or at least, he should be; but moral panic has brought the teaching of Ancient Greek forward; so  \"Hades, holy, pure\" have now merely shifted from primary to secondary education.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo aspiration was a rule of Ancient Greek, that made no sense in the native language of the people still writing in Ancient Greek. That provides an  opportunity for the rule to break down: for those writers to forget to aspirate their prefixes. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere are occasional such instances in Byzantium; and they are brought up in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.sarantakos.com\/l-aytoypar.html\"\u003Epolemics against the polytonic\u003C\/a\u003E. (Nikos Sarantakos in the linked piece cites ἀντυπουργήσειν in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Constantine_VII\"\u003EConstantine Porphyrogenitus\u003C\/a\u003E and ἀντυπενεχθείσας in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Gregory_of_Nyssa\"\u003EGregory of Nyssa\u003C\/a\u003E.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOne of the only linguistic arguments made for polytonic accentuation is that it enables you to do correct aspiration in compounds. The counterargument is that noone is using aspiration in compounding any more: peals of laughter would greet *ἀνθηλιακός \"sun protection\" or *ἀνθισταμινικός \"anti-histamine\". And if you want to passively make sense of a compound like ἀφήλιον \"aphelion\", there's little point memorising that ήλιος \"sun\" takes a rough breathing. It's more useful to deduce the rough breathing of ήλιος from ἀφ-ήλιον—or else, to do your rote memorising of \/h\/'s where it will have more of a pay off. Like learning English, and picking up \u003Ci\u003EHelium\u003C\/i\u003E and \u003Ci\u003Eheliocentric\u003C\/i\u003E from there.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIf the Byzantines slipped up in failing to aspirate compounds, we also expect them to do the opposite: to aspirate compounds where there is no justification in Ancient Greek. That is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Hypercorrection\"\u003Ehypercorrection\u003C\/a\u003E. Hypercorrection happens when speakers are trying to apply a rule in a language variant that is alien to them (such as the formal variant of their language). Speakers can't readily apply the rule, because the conditions of the rule don't make sense in their native version of the language. So they lurch for the more formal-sounding option from the rule, in the hope that it will pay off. English-speakers end up saying \"between you and I\", because they can't understand why they have to say \"it is I\" instead of \"it's me\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EUnsurprisingly, hypercorrect aspiration happens in Byzantine Greek. After all, it happens even now in Greece; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2010\/03\/17\/polyton1\/\"\u003ENikos Sarantakos\u003C\/a\u003E mentions a teacher from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Drama_Prefecture\"\u003EDrama Prefecture\u003C\/a\u003E so confident in his command of Ancient Greek (which he inflicted on primary school students), that he spoke against καθ’ επάγγελμα εκκλησιομάχοι, \"professional anticlericalists\". That's επάγγελμα, as in ἐπ-άγγελμα \/epáɡɡelma\/, and the prefix \/ep(i)-\/ has never begun with an \/h\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHypercorrection in aspiration does not happen in Byzantine Greek as frequently as I'd expected; I've found maybe a hundred instances in the TLG. But it does happen often enough to show that not everyone was confident about how well they'd memorised their \"Hades, holy, pure\" tables.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003ESo when \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/journals.cambridge.org\/action\/displayAbstract;jsessionid=D3259C5C407FC05E78FE3E5E86E8C67A.tomcat1?fromPage=online\u0026aid=3727908\"\u003EJohn of Gaza\u003C\/a\u003E writes καθ’ ἧμαρ \"by day\" (\u003Ci\u003EAnacreontea\u003C\/I\u003E 6.93), the καθ’ leaves no doubt that he has got the breathing of ἦμαρ wrong. He's trying to sound elevated by using a Homeric word; but he hasn't got the Homeric aspiration to go with it.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EWhen \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Ephrem_the_Syrian\"\u003EEphraem the Syrian\u003C\/a\u003E (or rather, his early Greek translators) write μεθέπειτα instead of μετέπειτα \"afterwards\" (\u003Ci\u003EDe paenitentia\u003C\/i\u003E, Frantzoles p. 81), they are making the same mistake as the teacher from Drama: \/ep(i)-\/ in \/met-ep-eita\/  has never begun with an \/h\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EWhen \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Paul_of_Aegina\"\u003EPaul of Aegina\u003C\/a\u003E writes ἀφ-ουροῦντας \"urinating away\" (\u003Ci\u003EEpitomae medicae\u003C\/i\u003E, 3.18.5.26), he's forgetting that the word is \"urinate\", not *\"hurinate\" (or, given how Ancient Greek relates to Indo-European, *\"surinate\").\u003C\/ul\u003E \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo much for aspiration. Having gone through the rule violations in the TLG corpus, I wondered whether the rule for \/ek-\/ was also violated. That rule is: \u003CA href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0007:part%3D1:chapter%3D5\"\u003E\u003Cb\u003EMovable \/s\/\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E: ἐκ \/ek\/ becomes  ἐξ \/eks\/ in front of a vowel. So ἐκ-βάλλω \/ek-bállɔː\/ \"I throw out\" but ἐξέβαλον \/eks-ébalon\/ \"I threw out\", ἐκ τοῦτου \/ek tûtu\/ \"from this\" but ἐξ αὐτοῦ \/eks autû\/ \"from that\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut what is the likelihood that Byzantine writers would get the rule wrong? For a rule of Ancient Greek to be violated, the conditions for the rule have to be inapplicable to later Greek; that was indeed the case with aspiration, once aspiration had disappeared in the spoken language. Vowels, on the other hand, still existed in later Greek; so the rule for \/ek\/ going to \/eks\/ was  still learnable by Byzantines, with reference to their spoken language. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe rule itself also needs to have been no longer applied in the vernacular, so that speakers trying to apply it to Ancient Greek could go astray: the vernacular would need to have used \/ek\/ before vowels as well as consonants (if indeed \/ek\/ survived at all), for writers to get the \/ek ~ eks\/ rule wrong in Ancient Greek.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAs it turns out, ἐκ as a preposition did survive, in at least some dialects of Greek, as αχ or οχ, before both vowels and consonants. That does suggest that the alternation between \/ek\/ and \/eks\/ broke down in some locations, but not that it had globally broken down: most dialects of Greek don't have a reflex of \/ek\/ at all. The prefix \/ek-\/ has also survived in the vernacular, again without the alternation of \/ek\/ and \/eks\/. But in the vernacular, it's \/eks-\/, not \/ek-\/, which is in universal use. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003ENow that's an odd development: speakers should have a devil of a time trying to pronounce compounds like \/eks-vrakono\/ \"to strip naked, to un-pants\" or \/eks-xtenizo\/ \"to tussle hair, to uncomb\"; so how did \/eks\/ end up taking over? \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHere's how: with verbs, Modern Greek has always preferred the aorist stem to the present, as the more regular formation. Unlike the present stem, the  aorist stem ends in only a few, predictable consonants—mostly \/s\/. So the present was usually remodelled to line up with the aorist, with a few simple rules. (That's where the Modern language got the idea that as many present stems as possible should end in \/n\/.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe beginning of the aorist is regular too: the indicative aorist always began with an \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Augment_(linguistics)\"\u003Eaugment\u003C\/a\u003E, which means it always began with a vowel. So while the present tense alternated between \/eks-\/ and \/ek-\/, the aorist indicative reliably used \/eks-\/: ἐκβάλλω :: ἐξέβαλον, ἐκβάλλετε :: ἐξεβάλατε, ἐξαγανακτῶ :: ἐξηγανάκτησα, \/ek-bállɔː\/ :: \/eks-ébalon\/, \/ek-bállete\/ :: \/eks-ebálate\/, \/eks-aganaktɔ̂ː\/ :: \/eks-ɛːɡanáktɛːsa\/. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn Modern Greek, unstressed initial \/e\/ was dropped; that made unstressed augments optional. So ἐκτένιζα \/ekténiza\/ \"I combed\" became χτένιζα \/ˈxteniza\/, and \/eks-ekténiza\/ could be \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Metanalysis\"\u003Emetanalysed\u003C\/a\u003E as \/eks-eˈxteniza\/ \u0026gt; \/ekse-ˈxteniza\/. The initial unstressed \/e\/ of the prefix \/eks-\/ was also dropped; so the prefix became \/kse-\/. With its \/-e-\/ no longer considered an augment, the \/kse-\/ prefix could be applied to the present as well as the aorist: ξεχτένιζα \/kse-ˈxteniza\/ \"I uncombed\", ξεχτενίζω \/kse-xteˈnizo\/ \"I uncomb\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe prefix applies to nominalisations as well as verbs; so learnèd εκκίνηση \"starting point\" has the vernacular counterpart ξεκίνημα \"beginning\". The ancient meaning of \"movement out of\" is retained with older compounds, such as ξεκινώ \u0026lt; ἐκκινέω \"to move out from = to set off, to begin\". In productive use, though, it usually means undoing an action—like we saw with \"uncomb\" and \"unpants\". The prefix even applies to nouns, though in a more ad hoc way; there is an old \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Rebetiko\"\u003Erebetiko\u003C\/a\u003E song called Ο Ξεμάγκας, \"the un-\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mangas\"\u003Emangas\u003C\/a\u003E, someone who has rejected being a mangas\". (In particular, giving up on hashish and bouzouki music.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"425\" height=\"349\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/p1eEhUDnD9U\" frameborder=\"0\" allowFullScreen\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(You'd think I was looking for excuses to include YouTube videos in linguistics posts, or something...)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo, because \/eks-\/ survived in the vernacular as \/kse-\/, we don't have strong evidence that \/eks-\/ was strange to the vernacular as a prefix, and that speakers would be going vernacular by using \/ek\/ before a vowel. On the other hand, while \/eks-\/ survived precisely because it preceded a vowel, it's not like Ancient Greek offered any counterexamples with \/ek\/ preceding a vowel. So there would be little reason for writers to think that \/ek\/ before a vowel was a more proper way of writing—i.e. a plausible hypercorrection. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe \/ek ~ eks\/ alternation may have been on the way out; but any instances of \/ek\/ before a vowel in Byzantine writing, I conclude, would be infrequent; and they would more likely be \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.urbandictionary.com\/define.php?term=thinko\u0026defid=1579307\"\u003Ethinkos\u003C\/a\u003E, than harbringers of vernacular influence.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo, I did a search among unrecognised words in the TLG corpus, substituting \/eks\/ for \/ek\/. It's a first cut; if Trapp's Lexicon has already registered such compounds with \/ek\/ before a vowel, such a search would not find them. Nonetheless, while I just predicted that there wouldn't be many instances of \/ek\/ before a vowel, I was surprised to have found exactly one such instance.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat one instance is from the pen of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Leo_Choirosphaktes\"\u003ELeo Choerosphactes\u003C\/a\u003E. We have already \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2009\/06\/lerna-iiia-why-we-do-not-count-word.html\"\u003Ebumped into Leo in this blog\u003C\/a\u003E, as the target of the rage of Constantine of  Rhodes, which resulted in the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2010\/03\/what-are-longest-words-of-greek.html\"\u003Elongest adjectives of Byzantine Greek\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EChoerosphactes' instance is from a letter to  \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Simeon_I_of_Bulgaria\"\u003ETsar Simeon I\u003C\/a\u003E of Bulgaria, with whom Leo was conducting diplomatic negotiations—sometimes from a Bulgarian prison cell. It is a short letter, but it could have been a lot shorter. Apparently, Simeon had sent Leo a letter, in which Simeon wrote an untruth which Leo found more telling than the prosaic truth. In other words, Simeon wrote a joke; and Leo reacts with all the awkward wordiness of someone puzzled at the invention of humour. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/The_Invention_of_Lying\"\u003EOr lying.\u003C\/a\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EG. Kolias. 1939. Léon Choerosphactès, magistre, proconsul et patrice; biographie—correspondance (texte et traduction). \u003Ci\u003ETexte und Forschungen zur Byzantinisch-Neugriechischen Philologie\u003C\/I\u003E 31: 77–129. Letter 12.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΤοῦ αὐτοῦ, Συμεὼν ἄρχοντι Βουλγαρίας. \u003Cbr \/\u003EΘαῤῥεῖς πρὸς ἀλήθειαν, ἀρχόντων ὁ ἀληθέστατος, θαῤῥεῖς πρὸς τὰ λίαν ἐπαινετά· θέλεις δὲ καὶ τὸ σὸν οὐχὶ ἐν ἴσῳ τοῦ τῶν ἄλλων πιστεύεσθαι, ναί, καὶ τὴν δοκοῦσαν κατὰ παιδιὰν ἄρνησιν, ὁμοίαν εἶναί τε καὶ νομίζεσθαι τῆς ἑτέρων ἀληθοῦς κατανεύσεως. Δείκνυται οὖν ἡ ἐπιστολὴ ἀληθεύουσα πράγματι, κἂν δοκῇ τῷ γράμματι ψεύδεσθαι, ἵν’ ᾖ ὑπὲρ τὴν τῶν ἄλλων ὑποπτευομένην ἀλήθειαν ἡ σὴ σοφῶς ὑποπαίζουσα καὶ κωμικευομένη ψευδομυθία. Καὶ τοῦτο θαυμαστόν, καὶ τοῦτο γέμον φιλανθρωπίας, ἵνα, εἰ δοκῶν ψεύδεσθαι ἀληθεύεις, \u003Cb\u003Eἐκαληθεύοντός\u003C\/b\u003E σου τίς ἔσται ὁ πιστεῦσαι δυνάμενος, ὡς ψεύσῃ πώποτε; Ὢ ψεύδους ἐγγραμμάτου, ἀληθείας ἐμπράκτου γέμοντος! Οὕτω δοκῶν ψεύδεσθαι ἀληθεύεις, καὶ ἀληθεύων οὐκ εἰς ψεῦδος αὖθις ἀποκλίνεις. Ἔῤῥωσο.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBy the same, to Simeon Lord of Bulgaria.\u003Cbr \/\u003EYou have the courage for truthfulness, most truthful of lords; you have the courage for matters most praiseworthy. And you want your writings not to be believed equally to others'; yea, nor do you want your denial, seemingly in jest, to be just like others' truthful assertions, or even to be thought as such. So your letter is shown to be truthful in reality, even though it seems to be lying literally. Thus your sagely playful and antic telling of lies surpasses others' supposed truthfulness. And this is a marvel, and a thing full of humanity: if you tell the truth while seeming to lie, then who can believe you would ever be lying, if you should \u003Cspan style=\"text-decoration: line-through;\"\u003E\u003Cb\u003Estray from the truth\u003C\/b\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Cb\u003Eliterally tell the truth\u003C\/b\u003E? Oh what a literate lie, full of truth in practice! Thus do you tell the truth when seeming to lie, and you do not deviate back into lies when telling the truth. Farewell.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe verb ἐκαληθεύω should be ἐξαληθεύω; but no such verb has been attested in Greek. If the rule about \/eks\/ was ever going to be violated, it would be in a verb such as ἐξαληθεύω, which was newly coined by the author. Any writer of Greek would have imbibed hundreds of verbs prefixed with \/eks-\/, from both the Classical language and his own vernacular; he'd be unlikely to get the prefix wrong on a verb he was already familiar with. Coining a new verb, he would momentarily been thrown into unfamiliar territory. And unfamiliar territory is where thinkos are likelier to happen.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe verb ἐξαληθεύω is not attested; but \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0057:alphabetic+letter%3D*e:entry+group%3D136:entry%3De)calhqi\/zomai\"\u003Eἐξαληθίζομαι\u003C\/a\u003E is. LSJ cites it from the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Etymologicum_Magnum\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EEtymologicum Magnum\u003C\/I\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E, compiled a couple of centuries after Choerosphactes; but the Etymologicum is citing Photius, a generation older than Choerosphactes:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΔιαπορεύεται δὲ τά τε ἄλλως περὶ θεῶν τοῖς Ἕλλησι μυθολογούμενα καὶ εἴ πού τι καὶ πρὸς ἱστορίαν \u003Cb\u003Eἐξαληθίζεται\u003C\/b\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd he goes through all the other myths about the Gods told by the Greeks, and whatever is \u003Cb\u003E\"out-truth-ised\"\u003C\/b\u003E in history. (Bibliotheca, Codex 239 p. 319a)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0007:part%3D3:chapter%3D23\"\u003EThe difference between the -εύω and -ίζω suffixes\u003C\/a\u003E is slight: having the condition or activity of X, vs. doing the action of X. ἐξαληθίζομαι, by that token, should mean something like \"to act 'out from' about truth\". In a compound, \/ek\/ has the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0007:part%3D4:chapter%3D43:section%3D101:subsection%3D101\"\u003Efollowing meanings\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003E\u003Ci\u003EOut, from, off, away\u003C\/i\u003E (cp. ἐξελαύνειν drive out and away); often with an implication of fulfilment, completion, thoroughness, resolution (ἐκπέρθειν sack utterly, ἐκδιδάσκειν teach thoroughly)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo \"to act about truth thoroughly\", which makes more sense than \"to act 'out from' about truth\". What sort of actions can you carry out with truth? Telling it; so ἐξαληθίζομαι should mean \"to tell the truth thoroughly\". And LSJ's gloss of ἐξαληθίζομαι is indeed, \"to be truly recorded\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eἐξαληθεύω in turn should mean something like \"to have a condition 'out from' about truth\", or \"to do an activity 'out from' about truth\". What condition or activity is associated with truth? Again, telling it. In fact, ἀληθίζω is \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0057:alphabetic+letter%3D*a:entry+group%3D82:entry%3Da)lhqh\/s\"\u003Eglossed in LSJ\u003C\/a\u003E as ἀληθεύω (scroll to the end, Perseus' LSJ has conflated ἀληθίζω with ἀληθής), and ἀληθεύω \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0057:alphabetic+letter%3D*a:entry+group%3D82:entry%3Da)lhqeu\/w\"\u003Eis glossed as\u003C\/a\u003E \"to speak truth\". ἀληθίζω and   ἀληθεύω are synonyms. ἐξαληθίζομαι and ἐξαληθεύω should also have been synonyms: Choerosphactes' verb should have meant the same as Photius'.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E[EDIT: The following paragraph is incorrect—see comment #1]\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFrom the context, clearly it doesn't. Choerosphactes has gone back to the literal meaning of \/ek\/, \"out from, away\": his ἐξαληθεύω is \"to do an activity of being away from the truth\", i.e. \"straying from the truth\". It's not the sense that occurred to Photius. And in fact, that too shows that Leo was in unfamiliar territory, when he coined the verb: he didn't use the most obvious sense of \/ek\/ in context, but the most literal. It was literal enough to make him forget to modify the prefix \/ek\/, and to leave it, ill-fitting, as ἐκαληθεύω.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/6551776244121772181\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html#comment-form","title":"16 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/6551776244121772181"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/6551776244121772181"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/ill-fitting-prefix-in-choeroboscus.html","title":"ἐκαληθεύω: an ill-fitting prefix in Choeroboscus"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/p1eEhUDnD9U\/default.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"16"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-8941631522572167030"},"published":{"$t":"2011-01-23T13:14:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-01-23T13:29:01.919+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"morphology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Pontic"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Tsakonian"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Pontic infinitive, real and imagined"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"I too noticed the breathless article in the \u003Cspan style=\"font-style:italic;\"\u003EIndependent\u003C\/span\u003E, right after New Year's Day, on the discovery of \u003Cblockquote\u003Ea Greek dialect that is remarkably close to the extinct language of ancient Greece.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe actual \u003Cspan style=\"font-style:italic;\"\u003EIndependent\u003C\/span\u003E article is not as over-the-top as the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.independent.co.uk\/opinion\/leading-articles\/leading-article-not-such-a-dead-language-2174681.html\"\u003Edaft lead-in article\u003C\/a\u003E, which has done the rounds through the world's press. I didn't comment on it at the time, because I was still on blog hiatus, and the over-the-top renditions I had seen made me roll my eyes. (Newspaper sensationalises science story, film at 11.) But if you read the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.independent.co.uk\/life-style\/history\/jason-and-the-argot-land-where-greeks-ancient-language-survives-2174669.html\"\u003Eactual article\u003C\/a\u003E, interviewing the linguist involved (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/people.pwf.cam.ac.uk\/is269\/\"\u003EIoanna Sitaridou\u003C\/a\u003E), it's reasonably sober, and tells you much of what you might have already gathered over the past few decades of Greek dialectology—and indeed, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2009\/04\/greek-in-turkish-orthography.html\"\u003Efrom this blog\u003C\/a\u003E :-) . \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe article is talking about the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Greek_Muslims#Pontic_Greek_Muslims\"\u003EMuslim speakers of Pontic\u003C\/a\u003E, who have stayed in Turkey after the 1922 population exchanges, in the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Of_(District),_Trabzon\"\u003EOf valley\u003C\/a\u003E. They call their language Romeyika, which is of course Romaic, the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Names_of_the_Greeks\"\u003Epre-Modern name for Greek\u003C\/a\u003E. Linguists call it Ophitic, as a subdialect of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Pontic_Greek\"\u003EPontic Greek\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EOphitic is indeed somewhat archaic compared to other variants of Pontic, in its infinitive, and its preservation of Ancient οὐκ ~ οὐκί \/uk ~ ukí\/ \"not\" as \u003Ci\u003Euç\u003C\/i\u003E (where the rest of Pontic has 'κ' [kʰ]). You'd expect such conservatism in a geographically and culturally isolated linguistic enclave. The \"closest to Ancient Greek\" claim, though, is a bit much; as Nikos Sarantakos pointed out on his \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/01\/21\/ofitika\/\"\u003EMagnificent Blog\u003C\/a\u003E,\u003Cblockquote\u003Ejust as every mother considers her child the must beautiful in the world, so too every researcher considers their field of study and research findings to be of exceptional importance.\u003C\/blockquote\u003EWe know why the researcher had to highlight the conservatism of Ophitic in the press release: that's how you get funding, and Vahit Tursun, himself a Muslim Pontic-speaker now living in Greece, was quite \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2011\/01\/21\/ofitika\/#comment-56093\"\u003Ehappy to give her a pass\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EFor nearly twenty years we have been busying ourselves, writing and talking, yet we have not been able to convince Greeks and Greece of the existence of this culture, the danger that it will disappear, and how Greek it is. Leave Dr Sitaridou alone; maybe she can convince the English to do something about it.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E \u003Cbr \/\u003EFair enough. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EStill, as \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.philology-upatras.gr\/en\/staff\/dep\/kategetes\/ralle_aggelike\"\u003EProf Angeliki Ralli\u003C\/a\u003E pointed out in the Greek press  (also reproduced at Sarantakos' blog), Ophitic isn't the only survival of the infinitive: it has also persisted in Southern Italian Greek. And in both cases, as in Early Modern Greek, the infinitive is much reduced—it's still an infinitive in retreat, restricted to modal verbs. So you use the infinitive in these variants of Greek in phrases like \"I want to talk\" or \"I can walk\", but not \"Better to walk than to run\" or \"I told her to walk\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(No, Tsakonian did not preserve the infinitive. It did however preserve the participle used as a verb complement at least up to 1930: Pernot records Costakis telling  a fairy tale with the phrase (ο κούε) αρχίνιε κχαούντα \"(the dog) started barking\", where Modern Greek only allows \"started to bark\", άρχισε να γαυγίζει. And even that seems to have vanished soon after; in the texts Costakis recorded from the late '40s on, there are no such participles.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe infinitive is still a remarkable survival for Greek dialect, and it used to be a point of pride for linguists that Pontic had an infinitive. News of the Ophitic infinitive had reached the linguistic republic from Michael Deffner's research on Pontic in 1877. \u003Cblockquote\u003EDeffner, M. 1877. Die Infinitive in den pontischen Dialekten und die zusammengesetzten Zeiten im Neugriechischen. \u003Ci\u003EMonatsberichte den Königlich Preussischen Akademie de Wissenschaften zu Berlin\u003C\/i\u003E, 191-230. Berlin.\u003C\/blockquote\u003EYes, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2009\/04\/michael-deffner-scoundrel.html\"\u003Ethat Michael Deffner\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe problem with that claim was, the Pontic that refugees spoke in Greek had no infinitive. In 1977, this claim struck the linguist Tombaidis, himself the son of Pontic refugees: he kept reading that Pontic had infinitives, but there were no infinitives in the Pontic he spoke, or in any Pontic he'd ever heard. So Tombaidis circulated a linguistic survey among several Pontic speakers, and published his findings in:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003ETombadis, D.E. 1977. L'Infinitf dans le Dialecte Grec du Pont Euxin. \u003Ci\u003EBalkan Studies\u003C\/i\u003E 18: 155–174.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETombaidis found that all but one of the speakers he surveyed didn't use an infinitive; many of them indeed completely misunderstood the examples of the infinitive he showed them from Deffner's research. Tombaidis could find no evidence of the infinitive surviving in any Pontic text or language use he had access to over the past century; and since Deffner was *that* Deffner, Tombaidis concluded that the claims of the infinitive were not to be trusted.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EGreek linguists weren't particularly aware of Ophitic until Peter Mackridge reported on them in 1987, and didn't have ready access to Ophitic speakers:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003E(Mackridge, P. 1987. Greek-Speaking Moslems of North-East Turkey: Prolegomena to Study of the Ophitic Sub-Dialect of Pontic. \u003Ci\u003EByzantine and Modern Greek Studies\u003C\/i\u003E 11: 115–137.)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOne of the archaisms Mackridge noted was the survival of the infinitive; so Deffner, it turns out, did not make the infinitive up. But it's just as true that Pontic as spoken in Greece does not have the infinitive; nor is it likely that the infinitive died out the minute the refugees hit the shores of Greece. Ἀρχεῖον Πόντου, \u003Ci\u003EThe Pontic Archive\u003C\/i\u003E was publishing texts from its establishment in 1928, six years later; and folklore journals were publishing Pontic texts from a fair while before that.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat's happened is straightforward: Christian Pontic had lost the infinitive some time after the Of valley converted to Islam (17th century, I think), but long before it was displaced to Greece and Russia. Christian Pontic had remained in some contact with the rest of the Greek-speaking world, and in any case was a much larger population, where innovations could travel. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOh, that one speaker Tombaidis found who insisted he used the infinitive? Tombaidis can't name him; but he drops enough hints on who he was. In retrospect, it's clear why he insisted he used the infinitive too. No, he wasn't a Muslim Pontian. He was \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.biblionet.gr\/main.asp?page=showauthor\u0026personsid=24048\"\u003EOdysseas Lampsides\u003C\/a\u003E (1917-2006), historian specialising on Trebizond, and editor of \u003Ci\u003EThe Pontic Archive\u003C\/I\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOf course, you don't want to say on the record that a researcher is lying—even if the researcher is in this instance acting as a research subject. But then again, it needn't be counted as lying: people can convince themselves they do all sorts of things linguistically. That's why elicitation should not be the only tool you rely on in investigating a language. (As any syntactician has found who's tried to work out whether a sentence of English is acceptable—and then repeated the exercise with five related sentences. After a while—you just can't tell any more.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/8941631522572167030\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/pontic-infinitive-real-and-imagined.html#comment-form","title":"3 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/8941631522572167030"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/8941631522572167030"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/pontic-infinitive-real-and-imagined.html","title":"Pontic infinitive, real and imagined"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"3"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-1053295606504038693"},"published":{"$t":"2011-01-20T01:14:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-01-20T01:31:07.837+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"sociolinguistics"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Markos Vamvakaris: Ο ισοβίτης, Final verse"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"The reason why I picked Markos Vamvakaris' song Ο Ισοβίτης for my \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/markos-vamvakaris.html\"\u003Eruminations on hiatus\u003C\/a\u003E is its last verse, with its startling macaronic juxtaposition:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003Eόπως τον Έκτορα ο Αχιλλεύς τον έσουρνε στο κάρο\u003Cbr \/\u003ELike Achilles dragging Hector in his cart\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe clash isn't just  thematic of course, it's also linguistic: Hector and Achilles are solemnly invoked in Puristic phonology; Achilles desecration of Hector's corpse—τον έσουρνε στο κάρο, \"dragging in his cart\"—lands in a colloquial thud. It's the kind of register switcheroo that Greek—and I imagine other diglossic languages—can exploit for artistic effect; it's one  of the main things lost in translation in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Constantine_P._Cavafy\"\u003ECavafy\u003C\/a\u003E, for example.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003ESo Homer had Achilles bind Hector to his δίφρος, his chariot-box; the word is obscure enough that Greeks now speak of his ἅρμα, the more generic word for chariot. Yet the \u003Ci\u003Ehárma\u003C\/i\u003E too is displaced in the song by a a vehicle rather more familiar to the 1930's streetscape: κάρο \"cart\". It's a Romance word, and oddly enough, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Alexander_Pope\"\u003EAlexander Pope chose the same word\u003C\/a\u003E in translating the same passage: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/ebooks.adelaide.edu.au\/h\/homer\/h8ip\/book22.html\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EProud on his car the insulting victor stood\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd when Achilles drags Hector, it's not using the Ancient and Puristic verb έσυρε \/ˈesire\/, or even in the colloquial έσερνε \/ˈeserne\/; Markos uses the Athenian slang form έσουρνε \/ˈesurne\/. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIronically, the sin of \/ˈesurne\/ against the standard language is that it actually preserves the upsilon of Ancient Greek (ἔσυρε \/ésyre\/.) It's no good being an archaic dialect like Athenian, if none of the other dialects have stayed archaic—and if spelling pronunciation prevents people from realising that it's archaic: that just gets your dialect called weird. (Hence Theodosius Zygomalas' \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.early-modern-greek.org\/archives\/9\"\u003Emistaken verdict\u003C\/a\u003E in the 16th century, that Athenian was tragically the most corrupt dialect of Greek.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOn the other hand, the Homeric heroes are unrepentantly textbook in their pronunciation. The vernacular would demand Έχτορας \/extoras\/ instead of Έκτορας \/ektoras\/ for Ancient Ἕκτωρ \/hektɔːr\/. You will still on occasion hear κτ in learn\u0026agrave;d  loans pronounced as [xt], but it is decidedly out of fashion to write it so. But \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Alexandros_Pallis\"\u003EAlexander Pallis'\u003C\/a\u003E translation of the Iliad was written to follow \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Ioannis_Psycharis\"\u003EPsichari's\u003C\/a\u003E ideal of a pure vernacular phonology; his Hector is indeed written down as \u003Ci\u003EEkhtoras\u003C\/i\u003E, but that's not the translation Markos read in school, nor indeed the translation read in school now. Hector keeps his non-vernacular \/kt\/ in the song; and in the song, the non-vernacular \/kt\/ is jarring.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe modern ear is more shocked to hear the Achilles in his Puristic garb, as Αχιλλεύς \/axiˈlefs\/, a spelling pronunciation of Ancient Ἀχιλλεύς \/akʰilleús\/. To the modern ear, the only legitimate Demotic form is Αχιλλέας \/axiˈle.as\/, which has switched its third declension for the surviving first declension. Anyone still using the third declension (and unprononouncable) \u003Cspan style=\"font-style:italic;\"\u003EAkhilefs\u003C\/span\u003E now is deemed ideologically suspect. Surely Markos should have known better than to use such a retrograde form. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut of course Markos in 1935 would have known no such thing. After all, there is nothing vernacular about the hiatus in \/axiˈle.as\/. It's not the form he would have got at school; and it's not the form Achilles would have, had it in fact survived as a vernacular name. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn fact, Αχιλλέας is a compromise form: it is a reconstruction of a mediaeval pronunciation, after the word switched declension, but before the vernacular's grubby [j] got to it. So too βασιλεύς \"king\" \/basileús\/ became βασιλέας \/vasiˈle.as\/ in the Middle Ages, abandoning the now unpronouncable \/vasiˈlefs\/; but the modern vernacular form is βασιλιάς \/vasiˈljas\/, following the i \u0026gt; j \/_V rule. Achilles should similarly have ended up as Αχιλλιάς \/axiˈljas\/ in the vernacular. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENoone has dared devise so self-consciously Demotic a form of Achilles... except, unsurprisingly, for Pallis. Hard though it may be for contemporary Greek speakers to credit, Pallis does in fact use Αχιλλιάς. But not only is Pallis an extreme of Psicharist phonology among modern writers; even Pallis was reluctant to clothe Achilles in that much synizesis. In \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/el.wikisource.org\/wiki\/%CE%99%CE%BB%CE%B9%CE%AC%CE%B4%CE%B1_(%CE%9C%CE%B5%CF%84%CE%AC%CF%86%CF%81%CE%B1%CF%83%CE%B7_%CE%A0%CE%AC%CE%BB%CE%BB%CE%B7)_%CE%91\"\u003EIliad I\u003C\/a\u003E, he has 16 \/axiˈle.as\/, hiatus and all, and only two vernacular \/axiˈljas\/:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΜούσα, τραγουδά το θυμό του ξακουστού Αχιλέα, I 1\u003Cbr \/\u003E...\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπαρά άσ' την μιάς και δόθηκε στον Αχιλιά απ' τους άντρες I 276\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo Pallis only dared break Achilles' hiatus one time out of ten, and the subsequent vernacular standard didn't even dare that much. Vamvakaris was not going to deliver a more Psicharist version of Greek than Psichari's pupils. But nor was Vamvakaris going to come up with the post-Psicharists' compromise form \u003Ci\u003EAkhileas\u003C\/i\u003E—a form as artificial as the spelling pronunciation \u003Ci\u003EAkhilefs\u003C\/i\u003E is, even if Greek speakers no longer realise it.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOf course, \u003Ci\u003EAkhileas\u003C\/i\u003E was artificial and a compromise, but the post-Psicharists weren't the only ones cowed by awe before Homeric names, and forced to Mediaeval compromises. Such a compromise can be seen in the name of the warrior \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Odysseas_Androutsos\"\u003EAndroutsos\u003C\/a\u003E, a couple of generations before Psichari. By the start of the 19th century, Greek national awakening meant that Greeks started taking Classical first names, to assert that they too were Hellenes. And so Androutsos, born in Ithaca while has family was on the run from \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Central_Greece\"\u003ERoumeli\u003C\/a\u003E, was called Odysseus.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOdysseus' name is just as hostile to the vernacular as \u003Ci\u003EAkhillefs\u003C\/i\u003E [axilefs]. The spelling pronunciation of the original name, \/oðiˈsefs\/, was unpronouncable and undeclinable. None dared come up with a Pallis-like reduction, which would rhyme with \/vasiˈljas\/. The contemporary standard has done the same: the Odysseus king of Ithaca is \/oðiˈse.as\/, and Odysseus Androutsos of Ithaca is recorded in Greek textbooks as \/oðiˈse.as\/. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut Androutsos' contemporaries did at least vernacularise his name a smidgeon more than people now do. One of the many vernacular rules ossified thouɡh Puristic influx is that unaccented initial \/o\/ is dropped; so ὀλίγος \/olígos\/ \"few\" is now λίγος \/ˈliɣos\/, and ὡρολόγιον \/hɔːrolóɡion\/ \"clock\" is now ρολόι \/roˈloj\/. His comrades called Odysseus Δυσσέας \/ðiˈse.as\/, 'Dysseas.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThese are the shoals of Homeric proper names in Modern Greek; and this is why Markos used a more archaic version of Achilles then contemporary Greeks are comfortable with—not that \/ektoras\/ and \/axile.as\/, the versions they are comfortable with, are any more true to the vernacular phonology. And this is how Markos' \/ektora o axilefs\/ sounds jarringly pedantic in the song, just as the mention of Hector and Achilles should.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt would be the cherry on the cake if his pronunciation of Hector and Achilles would also follow the pedantic hiatus of Puristic, and set up the phonological force field around them that the legal terms ισοβίτης and έφεση already carry. But in his scansion, Markos elides three syllables across word boundaries, in a most un-Puristic fashion:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003Eόπως τον Έκτορα ο Αχιλλεύς τον έσουρνε στο κάρο\u003Cbr \/\u003Eopws| ton e|ktor\u003Cspan style='color=\"blue\";'\u003Ea o a\u003C\/span\u003Ex|ilefs || ton e|surne| to ka|ro\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhich means \/ektora o axilefs\/ is supposed to be pronounced [ektorw axilefs], in order to scan.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWell, you tell me what you hear; 2:53:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/qVEHqEdtkHQ\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI head [ek.to.ra.o.a.xi.lefs], with each syllable distinct. What I hear is that, for all that his versifying has Hector cozy up to Achilles in synizesis, when he comes to singing the names, he balks. Even if he is singing in the voice of a murderous street thug, his street thug has been to school, and can't shake the shade of Puristic, any more than Pallis could.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhich would be a nice example to end on, except that I have been listening to all of Markos' early songs, and his singing does not support the conclusion. It turns out that Markos has trouble doing synizesis with a final -o, whether the words are colloquial or learnèd. The year before Ο Ισοβίτης, Markos recorded \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%A3%CF%84%CE%B1_%CF%83%CE%AF%CE%B4%CE%B5%CF%81%CE%B1_%CE%BC%CE%B5_%CE%B2%CE%AC%CE%BB%CE%B1%CE%BD%CE%B5\"\u003EΣτα σίδερα με βάλανε\u003C\/a\u003E, \"They've locked me in chains.\" Yes, once again, the song's subject is in prison for murdering a rival lover.  Again, the metre is iambic heptameter, and again, there is a synizesis:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΦωτιά μεγάλη μʼ άναψες βρε άπιστη γυναίκα.\u003Cbr \/\u003EΜόλις θα βγω απ' τα σίδερα θα σφάξω κι άλλους δέκα\u003Cbr \/\u003Efotja| meɣal|i m a|napses || vr\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ee a\u003C\/span\u003E|pisti| ɣinek|a\u003Cbr \/\u003Emolis| θa vɣ\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Eo a\u003C\/span\u003Ep| ta si|ðera || θa sfa|kso kj a|lus ðe|ka\u003Cbr \/\u003EYou've lit a great fire under me, you faithless woman\u003Cbr \/\u003EAs soon as I get out of chains, I'll kill another ten men\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\/θa vɣo ap\/, \"I'll get out of\", scans as a single foot, two syllables: [θa vɣw ap]; and θα βγω απ' is as vernacular a phrase as you can get. I hear Markos singing three syllables (1:18)—very distinctly:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/fYUmNqWNruQ\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo no, the hiatus in Markos' singing of \/ektora o axilefs\/ is not indicative of anything.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOh, did you notice the hiatus in \/vre apisti\/? With the vernacular-as-dirt vocative particle βρε \"hey you!\" I'd hate to think that disproves my entire argument; I'll take the preponderance of hiatus around learnèd words as a statistical argument.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhich would be more convincing, had I actually done any statisics. THUD. Too honest for my own good, there...\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/1053295606504038693\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/markos-vamvakaris-final-verse.html#comment-form","title":"1 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1053295606504038693"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/1053295606504038693"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/markos-vamvakaris-final-verse.html","title":"Markos Vamvakaris: Ο ισοβίτης, Final verse"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/qVEHqEdtkHQ\/default.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-7725091529972878991"},"published":{"$t":"2011-01-19T00:38:00.002+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-01-19T01:51:32.518+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Modern Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"phonology"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"sociolinguistics"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"Markos Vamvakaris: Ο ισοβίτης"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"We saw \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/hiatus-of-divorce.html\"\u003Ea couple of posts ago\u003C\/a\u003E the rebetiko musician \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Markos_Vamvakaris\"\u003EMarkos Vamvakaris\u003C\/a\u003E in the 1930s, being more subject to the phonology of Puristic than Greeks might now expect of a singer extolling the underworld. Such an expectation says more about the romantic notions fomented by centuries of diglossia, than it does about the linguistic realities of 1930's Peiraeus. But your humble correspondent, too, is subject to romantic notions, and your humble correspondent, too, was surprised.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere's another song Vamvakaris did, in 1935, that runs along the same lines. It has even more Puristic in it, and in that song too the Puristic results in hiatus. The hiatus is so strong, that Vamvakaris the singer ends up doing more hiatus than Vamvakaris the lyricist. And the trigger for the extra hiatus is a namecheck of antiquity. But there's a lot to say about the song—not all of it linguistic. So much to say in fact, that I'm going to hold over the lyricist\/singer clash till the next post.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EThe song in question is not the 1937 \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%89%CE%BC%CE%BF%CF%85%CE%BD%CE%B1_%CE%BC%CE%AC%CE%B3%CE%BA%CE%B1%CF%82_%CE%BC%CE%B9%CE%B1_%CF%86%CE%BF%CF%81%CE%AC\"\u003EΉμουνα μάγκας μια φορά\u003C\/a\u003E, \"Once I was a \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mangas\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003Emangas\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E\", whose namechecking is thick and obvious:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/hrsj6TdkpEQ\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EOnce I was a spiv, though with an aristocrat's vein\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow I'll be a scholar, like wise \u003Ci\u003ESocrates\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'd be \u003Ci\u003EParis\u003C\/i\u003E, and steal away \u003Ci\u003EHelen\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eleaving \u003Ci\u003EMenelaus\u003C\/i\u003E with his heart crushed.\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'd like to be \u003Ci\u003EHeracles\u003C\/i\u003E when I first saw you,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eto chop your head of like the \u003Ci\u003EHydra\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat else do you want me to do to make you love me?\u003Cbr \/\u003EWith a mind like that, you'll be wanting to get with \u003Ci\u003EXerxes\u003C\/i\u003E.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENo, the song in question is from a couple of years earlier. Its injection of antiquity works, because it's not laid on thick: it's linguistically out of place—yet strikingly appropriate to its thuggish context. The song is \u003CA href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%9F_%CE%B9%CF%83%CE%BF%CE%B2%CE%AF%CF%84%CE%B7%CF%82\"\u003EΟ ισοβίτης\u003C\/a\u003E, \"The Lifer\":\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/qVEHqEdtkHQ\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctable\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctr\u003E\u003Ctd\u003EΣτη φυλακή με κλείσανε ισόβια για σένα\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτέτοιο μεγάλονε καημό επότισες εμένα\u003Cbr \/\u003EΕσύ 'σαι η αιτία του κακού για να με τυραννούνε\u003Cbr \/\u003Eοι πίκρες και τα βάσανα να με στριφογυρνούνε\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EΤώρα θα κάνω έφεση μήπως με βγάλουν όξω\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκακούργα δολοφόνισσα για να σε πετσοκόψω\u003Cbr \/\u003EΝα σου 'χυνα πετρέλαιο κι ύστερα να σε κάψω\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαι μέσ' στο ξεροπήγαδο να πάω να σε πετάξω\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EΕφτά φορές ισόβια τότε να με δικάσουν\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαι στη κρεμάλα τ' Αναπλιού εκεί να με κρεμάσουν\u003Cbr \/\u003EΨήνεις ενόρκους δικαστές τούς πλάνεψε η ομορφιά σου\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκαί με δικάζουν ισόβια για να γενεί η καρδιά σου\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EΜε τη ραδιουργία σου μπουζούριασα το χύτη\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδίχως να θέλω μ' έκανες να γίνω ισοβίτης\u003Cbr \/\u003EΤέτοια μεγάλη εκδίκηση αν τηνε ξεμπουκάρω\u003Cbr \/\u003Eόπως τον Έκτορα ο Αχιλλεύς τον έσουρνε στο κάρο\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ctd\u003EThey stuck me in jail for life because of you\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat's how great a sorrow you've made me swallow\u003Cbr \/\u003EYou're the cause of my ills, for them to torment me,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand for disappointment and troubles to whirl around me.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow I'll lodge an appeal, in case they let me out,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eyou evil murderess, so I can chop you to pieces.\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'd pour petrol on you and then burn you\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand I'd go throw you into the well.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThen let them condemn me to seven life sentences,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eand let them hang me at the gallows of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Nafplion\"\u003ENauplion\u003C\/a\u003E.\u003Cbr \/\u003EYou entice jury and judges, your beauty has tricked them, \u003Cbr \/\u003Eand they condemn me to life for your heart's whim.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBecause of your intrigue, I knocked off the metalworker (?)\u003Cbr \/\u003EWithout me meaning to, you've made me a lifer.\u003Cbr \/\u003EOh what revenge I'll have if I get out of here,\u003Cbr \/\u003ELike Achilles dragging Hector in his cart.\u003C\/tr\u003E\u003C\/table\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EI'll allow myself my bourgeois indignation at the protagonist; we should remember, of course, that Markos could act, and wasn't necessarily saying it was his own wife he was planning to immolate—any more than that he had a crush on a teamster in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%9F_%CE%B1%CF%81%CE%B1%CE%BC%CF%80%CE%B1%CF%84%CE%B6%CE%AE%CF%82\"\u003EΟ Αραμπατζής\u003C\/a\u003E, or that he was a housewife abandoned by a drunken husband in \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/wiki\/mediawiki\/index.php\/%CE%9F_%CE%B3%CF%81%CE%BF%CF%85%CF%83%CE%BF%CF%8D%CE%B6%CE%B7%CF%82\"\u003EΟ γρουσούζης\u003C\/a\u003E. Still, the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mangas\"\u003Emangas\u003C\/a\u003E that Markos sung about were no feminists.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOf course, when I told a female friend (rather more clued in to gender politics than me), that I was writing about a singer before he stopped singing about wife-beating for more bourgeois topics, she retorted that wife-beating \u003Ci\u003Eis\u003C\/i\u003E pretty bourgeois. Touché.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe song has a visceral grimness to it, precisely because of its nonchalant thugishness, and that does make it arresting. Which makes the trick he pulls in the final verse all the more effective.  It's incongruous to invoke the Iliad in a song about some low-life in jail. And yet, this isn't just lightly worn high school learning: Markos has learnt his Iliad all too well. Achilles' wrath, which made him desecrate his opponent's corpse, is condemned by Homer himself as \"shameful\", ἀεικέα (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.01.0133:book%3D22:card%3D367\"\u003EIliad XXII 395\u003C\/a\u003E). Achilles' wrath is no more highminded than the lifer's planned immolation. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOr these reenactments, courtesy of the US secondary education system:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/0mFqKXcKVaQ\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"480\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/5C8l6tDmCIg\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe song has a fair amount of Puristic words in it, as we'd expect  of a song not only with a shout out to the Iliad, but also several mentions of the legal system: ισοβίτης \"life sentence\", ισοβίτης \"lifer\", έφεση \"appeal\", ενόρκους \"jurymen\"—as well as πετρέλαιο \"petrol\" (\"stone-oil\", a learnèd coinage), αιτία \"cause\", and ραδιουργία \"intrigue\". There's potentially one more learnèd word, in a passage which isn't terribly clear.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the beginning of the final verse, Markos sings that he has μπουζούριασα το \/xiti\/. Neither word is extant now, and if we ask the internets, we find that μπουζουριάζω means to put someone in jail. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/mpouzouriazo_1670:%CE%BC%CF%80%CE%BF%CF%85%CE%B6%CE%BF%CF%85%CF%81%CE%B9%CE%AC%CE%B6%CF%89\"\u003Eslang.gr's illustration\u003C\/a\u003E is eloquent enough:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΤι κάνεις ρε στρατόκαυλε, με το μαχαίρι του ράμπο στην πορεία; Θα σε μπουζουριάσουν ρε καραγκιόζη!\u003Cbr \/\u003EWhat the hell are you doing, you army nutjob, carrying Rambo's knife in a protest march? They'll lock you up, you maroon!\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EOr another instance, from \u003CA href=\"http:\/\/athens.indymedia.org\/front.php3?lang=el\u0026article_id=328039\"\u003Eindymedia\u003C\/a\u003E, with indymedia's known anti-cop animus:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΚι εγώ θα θελα να κάθομαι και να τα παίρνω, αλλά το να μπουζουριάζω αθώο κόσμο, δεν είναι δουλειά, είναι ντροπή.\u003Cbr \/\u003EOh I'd love to just sit around and earn money too; but locking up innocent people is not a job, it's a disgrace.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the thread at rebetiko.gr \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.rembetiko.gr\/forums\/showthread.php?15942-Mberdema-stoixoi\"\u003Ediscussing this lyric\u003C\/a\u003E, an etymology is offered from μπουζού \"hiding place, jail\", which in turn is said to come from Italian \u003Ci\u003Ebozzolo\u003C\/i\u003E \"cocoon\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut of course, Markos' Lifer isn't supposed to be in jail for imprisoning his  rival, but killing him. It turns out that μπουζουριάζω has a second meaning, \"to eat up\". That definition is given in a 1932 song, Το λεξικό του μάγκα, \"The mangas' dictionary\". The song actually predates Greek recordings of rebetiko (those are mandolins on the recording, not bouzoukis), but it describes the lexicon of the same social circle, from the safe vantage point of the musical revue:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"390\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/sJqpyb1pBoI\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003E\u003C\/iframe\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E(3:16: Το μαχαίρι λέω λάσο και το τρώω μπουζουριάζω: \"I call a knife a λάσο, and \"eat\"—μπουζουριάζω.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.rembetiko.gr\/forums\/showthread.php?15942-Mberdema-stoixoi\u0026p=125243\u0026viewfull=1#post125243\"\u003EPoster κκ in the rebetiko.gr thread\u003C\/a\u003E has worked out that the second meaning applies in Markos' song: to \"eat someone\" (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.slang.gr\/lemma\/show\/troo_577\/#lemma_626\"\u003Eτον έφαγα\u003C\/a\u003E) is long-standing slang for killing someone, and Markos has made the expression more vivid by substituting a slang word for \"eat\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe problem is who the \/xitis\/ is that the Lifer has killed. Poster κκ—and just about all copies of the lyric online—assume it's a χίτης, a Chi-man. The Chi-men were members of the paramilitary organisation \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Organization_of_National_Resistance_of_the_Interior_X_(Chi)\"\u003E\"Organisation X\"\u003C\/a\u003E (Chi in Greek, of course); the Chi-men appear to have been rather more enthusiastic fighting communists than Nazis, and are now roundly reviled in Greece.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe catch with having Markos talking about Chi-men is, the Organisation was still ostensibly formed to resist the German occupation, and it was formed in 1941. Barring an undocumented talent for soothsaying, Markos is unlikely to have been singing about dispatching Chi-men in 1935. The only other likely match for \/xitis\/ is χύτης, a pourer—in particular, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.komvos.edu.gr\/dictonlineplsql\/simple_search.display_full_lemma?the_lemma_id=45389\u0026target_dict=1\"\u003Esomeone who works in a foundry\u003C\/a\u003E (where metal is poured out).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo speculated by \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.rembetiko.gr\/forums\/showthread.php?15942-Mberdema-stoixoi\u0026p=125245\u0026viewfull=1#post125245\"\u003EAris in post #4\u003C\/a\u003E. Now χύτης is a learnèd word, κκ's response to Aris betrays the anti-diglossic romanticism that haunts all Modern Greeks:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EEven if Markos really did mean a foundry worker, I imagine he'd use πασπαλιστής \"smearer\", καρούλιας \"reeler\", or some street word—not the kind of vocabulary you'd find in the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/unstats.un.org\/unsd\/cr\/ctryreg\/ctrydetail.asp?id=265\"\u003EStatistical Classification of Branches of Economic Acitivity\u003C\/a\u003E or the Ministry of Finance.\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E… A learnèd word like έφεση \"appeal\" or ραδιουργία \"intrigue\", you mean. True, it's more of a surprise for how Markos names the victim in the song; but this is hardly the song to expect Markos' Demotic to be pure and unsullied from officialdom. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThere's another \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/rebetiko.sealabs.net\/forum\/viewtopic.php?p=3862\u0026sid=8e3fc88699e1bdd887dc8f80e03c30bd#3862\"\u003Esuggestion on a forum\u003C\/a\u003E that χύτης is short for χυτοσίδερο, \"cast (poured) iron\", referring to prison bars. That would bring us back to μπουζούριασα meaning \"imprisoned\", but grammatically it doesn't stand. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EBut we're supposed to be talking about hiatus.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EVernacular phonology, we have seen, avoids hiatus; and vernacular metrics reflects vernacular phonology. If your vernacular verse has a vowel next to another vowel, they are supposed to be slurred together into the one syllable; to have a metrical break between two vowels is poor versifying. Verse textbooks inveigh against it, but they inveigh against it because vernacular verse itself\u0026mdash;in folksong, in the Cretan Renaissance, in the Heptanesian School\u0026mdash;all avoided it. Thus the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Hymn_to_Liberty\"\u003Enational anthem of Greece\u003C\/a\u003E written by \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Dionysios_Solomos\"\u003EDionysios Solomos\u003C\/a\u003E, to pull up the first example I could think of, starts:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003EΣε γνωρίζω από την κόψη\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτου σπαθιού την τρομερή\u003Cbr \/\u003Eσε γνωρίζω από την όψη\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπου με βια μετράει τη γη.\u003Cbr \/\u003Ese ɣno|ˈrizo a|ˈpo tin| ˈkopsi\u003Cbr \/\u003Etu spa|θiˈu tin| trome|ˈri\u003Cbr \/\u003Ese ɣno|ˈrizo a|ˈpo tin| ˈopsi\u003Cbr \/\u003Epu me| ˈvia me|ˈtrai ti| ɣi\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe metre is trochaic tetrameter: Dumdee Dumdee Dumdee Dumdee, Dumdee Dumdee Dumdee Dum. Eight and seven syllables to the line. If you take all the \/i\/s in the IPA at face value—with all hiatus—you're going to have several syllables left over.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EFor the metre to work, μετράει is two syllables, \/me.ˈtraj\/ rather than \/me.ˈtra.i\/: perfectly vernacular, and that's how the word is still pronounced. βια is also vernacular, reduced to one syllable; the word has now been displaced by the learn\u0026agrave;d βία, in two syllables. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003E(At this point I could get sidetracked by the debate over whether Solomos used the word with its vernacular meaning of \"haste\" or its learnèd meaning of \"violence\"—a debate \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2009\/04\/21\/biamami\/\"\u003Eheld in Greek parliament no less\u003C\/a\u003E. I won't get sidetracked this time, but I think it's clearly the latter, which would make Solomos deliberately vernacularised the word, and consistently did so to avoid hiatus, as he \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2009\/04\/21\/biamami\/#comment-2881\"\u003Eactually wrote down in his notes on metre\u003C\/a\u003E. The irony is, Solomos' native dialect of \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Zakynthos\"\u003EZante\u003C\/a\u003E actually *has* hiatus; so he pronounced both \"haste\" and \"violence\" as \/vi.a\/, but followed standard Greek in versifying both as \/vja\/. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/sarantakos.wordpress.com\/2009\/04\/21\/biamami\/#comment-2801\"\u003ECornaro before him\u003C\/a\u003E may have also vernacularised the word βια—though I think Erotokritos II 215 still refers to haste, even if in reference to a lion.)\u003C\/blockquote\u003E \u003Cbr \/\u003EThe slurring of a vowel before another vowel (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Synizesis\"\u003Esynezesis\u003C\/a\u003E) also applies across word boundaries; so γνωρίζω από \/ɣnorizo apo\/ is pronounced as four syllables, [ɣno.ri.zw a.po]. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd that slurring is regular in vernacular verse. Versifiers nowadays offend against it, because the language itself, tempered by Puristic, no longer finds hiatus offensive. But hiatus still sounds wrong in verse (if your ear is suitably trained), because verse as a tradition is aloof from the phonological mess of the spoken tongue.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ENow Vamvakaris, it has to be said, was not much of a versifier. He does hiatus without good reason, and he does occasionally add or miss a syllable. So it's not that we can draw ironclad conclusions from the hiatus in his verse. Still, we can see an informative pattern with respect to learnèd words.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ELet's try to jam his lyric to its metre—\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Political_verse\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003Epolitikos stichos\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E, iambic heptameter, the default Greek metre of the past millennium:  ˘ ˊ ˘ ˊ ˘ ˊ ˘ ˊ \/\/ ˘ ˊ ˘ ˊ ˘ ˊ ˘ \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003Esti fi|laki| me kli|san\u003Cspan style=\"color:magenta;\"\u003Ee\u003C\/span\u003E || \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:magenta;\"\u003Ei\u003C\/span\u003Esov|\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eia\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E| ɣja se|na\u003Cbr \/\u003Etetjo| meɣa|lone| kajm\u003Cspan style=\"color:magenta;\"\u003Eo || e\u003C\/span\u003Epo|tises| eme|na\u003Cbr \/\u003Eesi| \u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ese\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ee\u003C\/span\u003Et\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ei|a\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E tu| kaku || ɣja na| me ti|ranu|ne\u003Cbr \/\u003Ei pi|kres ke| ta va|sana || na me| strifo|ɣirnu|ne\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Etora| θa ka|n\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eo\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ee\u003C\/span\u003E|fesi\u003C\/i\u003E || mipos| me vɣa|lun o|kso\u003Cbr \/\u003Ekakur|ɣa ðo|lofo|nisa || ɣja na| se pe|tsoko|pso\u003Cbr \/\u003Ena su| xina| \u003Ci\u003Epetre|l\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eeo\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E || \u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Eki i\u003C\/span\u003Este|ra na| se ka|pso\u003Cbr \/\u003Eke mes| sto kse|ropi|ɣaðo || na pa| na se| peta|kso\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eefta| fores| \u003Ci\u003Eiso|v\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eia\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E || tote| na me| ðika|sun\u003Cbr \/\u003Eke sti| krema|la t a|naplj\u003Cspan style=\"color:magenta;\"\u003Eu || e\u003C\/span\u003Eki| na me| krema|sun\u003Cbr \/\u003Epsinis| \u003Ci\u003Eenor|kus\u003C\/i\u003E ði|kastes || tus pla|neps\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ee i e\u003C\/span\u003E|morfja| su\u003Cbr \/\u003Eke me| ðika|zun \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:orange;\"\u003Ei\u003C\/span\u003Eso|v\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eia\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E || ɣja na| ɣen\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ei i\u003C\/span\u003E| karðja| su\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eme ti| \u003Ci\u003Erað\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ei|u\u003C\/span\u003Erɣ\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ei|a\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E su || buzu|rjasa| to xi|ti\u003Cbr \/\u003Eðixos| na θe|lo m e|kanes || na ɣi|n\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eo\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ei\u003C\/span\u003E|sovi|tis\u003C\/i\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Etetja| meɣa|\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Eli\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ee\u003C\/span\u003Ekði|kis\u003Cspan style=\"color:magenta;\"\u003Ei\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E || \u003Cspan style=\"color:magenta;\"\u003Ea\u003C\/span\u003En ti|ne kse|buka|ro\u003Cbr \/\u003Eopws| ton \u003Ci\u003Ee|ktor\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ea\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E \u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Eo\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Ci\u003E\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ea\u003C\/span\u003Ex|ilefs\u003C\/i\u003E || ton e|surne| to ka|ro\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EA bit busy; let me explain. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cul\u003E\u003Cli\u003EA foot is delimited by | : there should be two syllables per foot, but for the last. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E|| is the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Caesura\"\u003Ecaesura\u003C\/a\u003E, the midverse break; \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Synizesis\"\u003Esynezesis\u003C\/a\u003E, contracting two syllables into one across the break, is not allowed in traditional versification.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ELearnèd words are in italics.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003E\/j\/ is used where synezesis has happened within a word, consistent with vernacular phonology. No learnèd words have a \/j\/.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EBlue is synezesis across a word boundary, consistent with vernacular metrics.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EOrange is an extrametrical syllable not explained by hiatus.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003ERed is hiatus within a word.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cli\u003EMagenta is hiatus across a word boundary.\u003C\/ul\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EMarkos has hiatus at the caesura; since the break at the caesura is so strong, such hiatus can be ignored, and can't be held up as a major fault of his versification. The extra syllable in \u003Ci\u003Eke me| ðika|zun \u003Cspan style=\"color:orange;\"\u003Ei\u003C\/span\u003Eso|via\u003C\/i\u003E, on the other hand, is a pretty basic blunder. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EAnd in μεγάλονε \/meɣalone\/ \"big\", Markos has added an -e to the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Movable_nu\"\u003Enu movable\u003C\/a\u003E, the liaison consonant. The vernacular allows this for pronouns, as the song shows: αν την-ε ξεμπουκάρω \"if I unclog her\" = \"If I get out of jail\". But for nominals like μεγάλονε, it's a sign the versifier has given up, and is begging for an extra syllable. It's an old poetic license—instances turn up in Early Modern Greek; but they're limited to verse. By my aesthetic, that makes it bad verse.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe thing is, if you discount caesuras, hiatus is limited to learnèd words. Admittedly, that's a circular argument, since hiatus is characteristic of learnèd words anyway. But notice that we have several instances of learnèd words starting with a vowel—\u003Ci\u003Eetia, efesi, isovia, isovitis\u003C\/i\u003E—which trigger hiatus with the preceding word, rather than synezesis. The vernacular words don't do that; in fact, we have a synezesis of three syllables mooshed into one in the vernacular \u003Ci\u003Epla|neps\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ee i e\u003C\/span\u003E|morfja| su\u003C\/i\u003E [planepsj emorfja su].\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHiatus before a vernacular word happens only with a caesura, which doesn't count. Hiatus is allowed before a learnèd word, caesura or not: the force field of Puristic can block the word from cosying up to its predecessor—\u003Ci\u003Ekan\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Eo| e\u003C\/span\u003Efe|si, ɣin\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Eo| i\u003C\/span\u003Eso|vitis\u003C\/i\u003E—just as it blocks hiatus within the word. But such hiatus it is not compulsory: \u003Ci\u003Eesi \u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ese\u003C\/span\u003E \u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Ee\u003C\/span\u003Et\u003Cspan style=\"color:red;\"\u003Ei|a\u003C\/span\u003E\u003C\/i\u003E has hiatus within learnèd \/etia\/, but not in front of it. \u003Ci\u003Emeɣa|\u003Cspan style=\"color:blue;\"\u003Eli e\u003C\/span\u003Ekði|kisi\u003C\/i\u003E also skips hiatus separating it from the preceding word.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe reason why I picked this song is its startling last verse. In that last verse, the Homeric names don't trigger hiatus across word boundaries, just like \u003Ci\u003Eekðikisi\u003C\/i\u003E didn't. Or maybe Vamvakaris did sing a hiatus after all. Then again, maybe that wasn't hiatus that Vamvakaris was singing. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIt's open to some question what Vamvakaris is actually doing phonetically with the last verse. But I've run enough over length in this post, to defer discussion till the next.\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/7725091529972878991\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/markos-vamvakaris.html#comment-form","title":"6 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/7725091529972878991"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/7725091529972878991"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/markos-vamvakaris.html","title":"Markos Vamvakaris: Ο ισοβίτης"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"https:\/\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/hrsj6TdkpEQ\/default.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"},"thr$total":{"$t":"6"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1291147930399569160.post-458428693256875362"},"published":{"$t":"2011-01-11T22:47:00.003+11:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2011-01-11T23:03:48.987+11:00"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Ancient Greek"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"lexicography"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"more"},{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"philology"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":"στήτη, a post-Homeric ghost word"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"I \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2010\/11\/ghost-words-revived-in-allatius.html\"\u003Eposted in November\u003C\/a\u003E about Leo Allatius, who coined a new word in the Greek literary corpus through a misreading of Pindar—or rather, perpetuating a mediaeval misreading of Pindar. But with the transmission of Classical literature as haphazard as it was, Allatius was not the only writer to have come up with such creative misreadings.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the sixth verse of the Iliad, Homer introduces the feud between Achilles and Agamemnon over Briseis:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cblockquote\u003Eἐξ οὗ δὴ τὰ πρῶτα διαστήτην ἐρίσαντε \u003Cbr \/\u003EἈτρεΐδης τε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν καὶ δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς. \u003Cbr \/\u003Efrom the time when first they parted in strife,\u003Cbr \/\u003EAtreus' son, king of men, and brilliant Achilles\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδιαστήτην ἐρίσαντε literally means \"the two of them stood apart contending\". But διαστήτην is a strange verb for those who post-date Homer: it is too archaic to be understood readily. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe verb is archaic enough to lack an \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Augment_(linguistics)\"\u003Eaugment\u003C\/a\u003E—the prefix that obligatorily indicates past tense in Classical Greek: where Homer used δια-στήτην \/dia-stɛ́ːtɛːn\/, later Greek would expect δι-ε-στήτην \/di-e-stɛ́ːtɛːn\/. Later on still—by the end of Classical Greek—the \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Dual_(grammatical_number)\"\u003Edual number\u003C\/a\u003E of the verb fell out of use; Greek by then would expect not the dual διεστήτην, but the plural διέστησαν.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESo διαστήτην did not look familiar to speakers to later Greek as a verb. What it did look like, though, was a feminine accusative noun, since -ην is the first declension ending for that case. Since spaces were not normally marked between words in Ancient writing, it would be easy for ΔΙΑΣΤΗΤΗΝΕΡΙΣΑΝΤΕ to be read as διὰ στήτην ἐρίσαντε, \"contending for an X\". \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cspan class=\"fullpost\"\u003EReading διαστήτην as διὰ στήτην means that you have unearthed a brand new noun in Homer, and now you need to come up with a meaning for it. It's not the first time readers of Homer were faced with such a challenge, and the way out was provided, as it often was, by context. Achilles and Agamemnon were contending for \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Briseis\"\u003EBriseis\u003C\/a\u003E; since Briseis was a woman, and  στήτην seems to be a feminine noun, it follows that Homer has the noun στήτη, meaning \"woman\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ESome Homerically clueless poet later on, in the same mindset as Allatius, followed along with this misconstrual of Homer: he used στήτη as a noun in his verse, to mean \"woman\". In fact he went a step further than Allatius: Allatius cited πεδαφρόνων just as he read it in his Pindar; but this poet was pretending to write in Doric, so he switched dialects in the inflection, and came up with the genitive στήτας, not στήτης. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003ETo make things even worse, another poet, within the next century, used this ghost word στήτας again, in a poem clearly derived from the first poet's conceit. (\"Of the writer nothing is known; he was obviously acquainted with the [first poem]\".) Both poets were pedants, more concerned with crafting \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Concrete_poetry\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003Epoesie concrete\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E than using words anyone had heard of. Clearly Homeric learning had fallen unpardonably far.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EThe poets in question are \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Theocritus\"\u003ETheocritus\u003C\/a\u003E (in his poem shaped like a \u003Ci\u003EPipe\u003C\/i\u003E) and \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/pl.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Dosiadas_z_Krety\"\u003EDosiadas\u003C\/a\u003E (in his poem shaped like an \u003Ci\u003EAltar\u003C\/i\u003E). In the 3rd century BC. You can see their handiwork at \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.theoi.com\/Text\/PatternPoems.html\"\u003Etheoi.com\u003C\/a\u003E, reproducing the 1912 Loeb edition and translation.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EIn the 3rd century BC, of course, Homeric scholarship was just getting started: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Aristophanes_of_Byzantium\"\u003EAristophanes of Byzantium\u003C\/a\u003E might have worked in Alexandria at the same time as Theocritus. And we can be smug about misreadings like διὰ στήτην now, but five centuries after the Iliad was written, scholars had to start somewhere trying to make sense of Homer's antiquated Greek. Those scholars' attempt to make sense of Homer led them to invent Western grammar. So we should cut Theocritus and Dosiadas some slack. \u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003EHere are the phantoms of στήτη in action:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdl\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.perseus.tufts.edu\/hopper\/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0057:alphabetic+letter%3D*s111:entry+group%3D76:entry%3Dsth\/ta\"\u003ELSJ, στήτα\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cdd\u003Eστήτα, ἁ, pseudo-Doric, = γυνή [woman], Theoc.Syrinx 14, Dosiad.Ara 1. (The form arose from a false reading of Il.1.6, διὰ στήτην ἐρίσαντε having quarrelled about a woman, cf. Eust.21.43, Sch.D.T. p.11 H.)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003EDosiadas, \u003CA href=\"http:\/\/www.theoi.com\/Text\/PatternPoems.html#5\"\u003EAltar\u003C\/a\u003E, 1\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003EΕἱμάρσενός με \u003Cb\u003Eστήτας\u003C\/b\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003Eπόσις, μέροψ δίσαβος,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eτεῦξ’\u003Cbr \/\u003EI am the work of the husband of a mannish-mantled \u003Cb\u003Equean\u003C\/b\u003E, of a twice-young mortal\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cp\u003E\u003Cp\u003ENote that in the 1912 Loeb, writing to a more literate audience, J M Edmonds could afford to translate obscure Greek into obscure English: \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.merriam-webster.com\/dictionary\/quean\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003Equean\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E, \"1. a disreputable woman; specifically: prostitute; 2. chiefly Scottish: woman; especially: one that is young or unmarried\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003ETheocritus, \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.theoi.com\/Text\/PatternPoems.html#4\"\u003ESyrinx\u003C\/a\u003E, 13-20:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003Eψυχὰν ᾇ, βροτοβάμων,\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cb\u003Eστήτας\u003C\/b\u003E οἶστρε Σαέττας,\u003Cbr \/\u003Eκλωποπάτωρ, ἀπάτωρ,\u003Cbr \/\u003Ewith which heartily well pleased, thou clay-treading gadfly of the Lydian \u003Cb\u003Equean\u003C\/b\u003E [i.e. \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Omphale\"\u003EOmphale\u003C\/a\u003E], at once thief-begotten and none-begotted\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003EScholia in Theocritum, Syrinx 14:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003EWithout the scholia to Theocritus, we'd be even more lost than Theocritus was before Homer:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cp\u003Eστήτας οἶστρε Σαέττας: τουτέστιν ὁ οἶστρον ἐμβαλὼν τῇ Λυδῇ γυναικί. φασὶ γάρ, ὅτι ἡ Ὀμφάλη ἡ Λυδὴ οἶστρον εἶχε περὶ τὸν Πᾶνα πολύν. τὸ δὲ στήτη ἡ γυνή, Σαέττης δὲ τῆς Λυδῆς.\u003Cbr \/\u003EThat is, the gadfly poking the Lydian woman. For he is saying that Omphale, the Lydian, had a great gadfly (= sexual excitement) about Pan. And στήτη means \"woman\", while Σαέττη means \"Lydian woman\".\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cp\u003EI think this is our only source form knowing what a Saetta was. It's not our only source for knowing what a στήτη is:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003EScholia on Homer, Scholia Recentiora [more recent scholia] by Theodore Meletiniotes (codex Genevensis gr. 44), I 6:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E[διαστήτην] διὰ τὴν στήτην, διὰ τὴν γυναῖκα.\u003Cbr \/\u003Eδιαστήτην: for the στήτην, for the woman.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003E\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Hesychius_of_Alexandria\"\u003EHesychius\u003C\/a\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003Eστήτα· γυνή \u003Cbr \/\u003Eστήτα: woman\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cp\u003EThough Hesychius does \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/www.brainyquote.com\/quotes\/quotes\/w\/waltwhitma132584.html\"\u003EContain Multitudes\u003C\/a\u003E:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003EHesychius:\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003Eστήτην· ἔστησαν, δυϊκῶς\u003Cbr \/\u003Eστήτην: \"they stood\", in the dual\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cp\u003ESome scholars, at least, had worked out what had gone wrong—fully and astutely (Melampous or Diomedes' grammatical commentary), or almost but not quite (\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Eustathius_of_Thessalonica\"\u003EEustathius of Thessalonica\u003C\/a\u003E):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003EEustathius of Thessalonica, Commentary on the Iliad, Vol. 1 p. 35 (van der Valk):\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003E Ἰστέον δὲ [...] ὅτι περιέργως τινὲς ἐπιβαλόντες Θεοκρίτου στήτην τὴν γυναῖκα εἰπόντος γράφουσιν ἐνταῦθα «διὰ στήτην ἐρίσαντο», ἵνα λέγῃ ὁ ποιητής, ὡς διὰ γυναῖκα ἤρισαν. ὁ δὲ τούτοις προσέχων εἴη ἂν φιλόκαινος. \u003Cbr \/\u003ENote that oddly enough, some authorities, imposing Theocritus' στήτη \"woman\" here, read this as διὰ στήτην ἐρίσαντο, so that the Poet ends up saying that they \"contended for a woman\". To pay attention to such readings would be an infatuation with novelty.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdt\u003ECommentary on \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Dionysius_Thrax\"\u003EDionysius Thrax\u003C\/a\u003E's \u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Art_of_Grammar\"\u003E\u003Ci\u003EArt of Grammar\u003C\/i\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E, by Melampous or Diomedes, p. 11 (Hilgard, Grammatici Graeci vol. 1.3)\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003Cdd\u003EἝως ἐνταῦθά ἐστιν ὁ ὅρος τῆς γραμματικῆς. Εἴπωμεν οὖν αὐτόν· «γνῶσις τῶν παρὰ \u003Cτοῖς\u003E τὰ ἔμμετρα καὶ ἄμετρα γράψασιν ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ πλεῖστον εὑρισκομένων». Διὰ τί δὲ εἶπεν «ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ πλεῖστον»; Ἐπειδή τινες λέξεις ἅπαξ που ἢ δὶς εἰρημέναι εἰσίν, ἃς οὐ πᾶσα ἀνάγκη εἰδέναι τὸν γραμματικόν, οἷον οἱ γρῖφοι. Τί δέ εἰσιν οἱ γρῖφοι; Τὰ ζητήματα τὰ δεινά· [...] \u003Cbr \/\u003E ἢ ὡς ἐν τῷ βωμῷ τοῦ Δοσιάδου ἡ γυνὴ εἴρηται \u003Ci\u003Eστήτη\u003C\/i\u003E, ἐπειδή τινες τὸ παρ’ Ὁμήρῳ \u003Ci\u003Eδιαστήτην ἐρίσαντε\u003C\/i\u003E οὕτως ἐξηγήσαντο, διά τινα γυναῖκα. Σύριγξ δὲ καὶ βωμὸς ποιήματά τινά ἐστιν ἐμμέτρῳ τῷ σχήματι καὶ τῇ διατυπώσει τὴν ἐπωνυμίαν ἔχοντα. Τὰ οὖν τοιαῦτα ζητήματα εἰ μὲν ἐπίσταται ὁ γραμματικός, ἐπαινετέος ἐστίν, εἰ δὲ μή γε, οὐκ ἔστι μέμψεως ἄξιος.\u003Cbr \/\u003EThis much is the definition of grammar. Let us add: \"the knowledge of most things written in verse and prose\". Why \"most\"? Because there are some words which have been used just once or twice, which it is not essential for the grammarian to know, such as riddles. And what are riddles? Difficult questions [...]\u003Cbr \/\u003EOr, as in Dosiadas' \u003Ci\u003EAltar\u003C\/i\u003E, where στήτη is used for \"woman\", because some people interpreted Homer's  διαστήτην ἐρίσαντε as referring to a certain woman. And the \u003Ci\u003EPipe\u003C\/i\u003E and the \u003Ci\u003EAltar\u003C\/i\u003E are poems in verse form and named for their appearance. Now if a grammarian knows about such matters, he is to be praised;  but if not, he does not merit condemnation.\u003C\/dl\u003E\u003Cbr \/\u003E\u003C\/span\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/feeds\/458428693256875362\/comments\/default","title":"Post Comments"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/post-homeric-ghost-word.html#comment-form","title":"8 Comments"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/458428693256875362"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/1291147930399569160\/posts\/default\/458428693256875362"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/hellenisteukontos.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/post-homeric-ghost-word.html","title":"στήτη, a post-Homeric ghost word"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"opoudjis"},"uri":{"$t":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/profile\/02106433476518749382"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"32","height":"24","src":"\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-rnp1TUQN-Ac\/WLJZPlC9WkI\/AAAAAAAABGE\/fyB1fNmKW489QBdPaUS5q-D0InRTXvbiwCK4B\/s1600\/archimedes.jpg"}}],"thr$total":{"$t":"8"}}]}});