Abstract
This work outlines the phonosemantic structure of Indo-European
languages and explores the nature of spoken words.
The introduction contains a brief overview of the fundamental elements
that made up a language, and summarizes the mechanisms responsible for
the development of the vocabulary and grammar.
The later parts of this publication, present an extensive evidence
together with descriptions of some typical associative processes underlying
the emergence of language.
introduction
While examining the associative mechanisms and
perceptual experiences recorded by language,
I have noticed that Indo-European languages derive
from a nucleus composed entirely of simple ideophones.
A major portion of this kernel consists of vocalized, self-imitative sequences
of ingestive movements, while a second group
is made of imitations of auditory experiences.
The border between the two groups is fluent, as eating
and drinking are not soundless activities.
Capable of turning every dish into a truly multi-sensory experience,
ingestion seems to have been the original source of several
onomatopoeic words. Nevertheless, since all of the vocalized,
ingestive sequences imitate the ingestive movements,
while only some of them imitate the accompanying noises as well,
I regard the ingestive vocalizations as a separate category of ideophones,
distinct from onomatopoeia. In consequence, I use the term "onomatopoeic"
only to denote words which aim to imitate the auditory sensations.
Apart from the two, abovementioned categories, the nucleus contains
a third group which includes vocalized respiratory actions and a few
other self-imitative vocalizations, unrelated to ingestion.
As the words inspired by ingestion are the prevailing ones, and
seem to slightly predate the two other groups of ideophones, it gives an
impression that Indo-European languages virtually evolved out
of eating aloud. However, a closer look reveals that it was not
just the bad table habits that made the miracle of language.
Though eating aloud was definitely inspiring and very likely
provided an important transition from eating to speaking, in the
last end, when the first genuine words were pronounced it was
not necessarily the food, but rather the reminiscence of it that
was "eaten aloud". Moreover, the onomatopoeia and the
group of self-imitations unrelated to ingestion also participated
in the formation of the core vocabulary, as the language was not
literary created by ingestive or acoustic processes, but by mental
ones.
In other words, it is important to point out that language clearly
demonstrates to be a product of interplay between an intellectual
process and a natural technique associated, adapted and further
developed to serve the purpose of communication, but since the technique
(as I am going to demonstrate) was constituted largely by vocalization
of ingestive sequences, it made the Indo-European languages a
delicious manifestation of human ability to interpret reality
and make complex associations.
A simple scenario ?
As eating and speech are similar in many ways, the process of
putting some sound into an empty mouth, in order to produce a word,
should theoretically not have been a complex one, and a hungry
mouth could have been very motivated to make this little step
towards a new way of communication.
Since none of us are equally happy for just any food, the pronounced
voice could have been modified by the reminiscence of the characteristic
mouth and tongue movements associated with a particular dish.
If the fastidious attitude towards food was reworded, the trick
would have been repeated frequently (as it depended on the appetite)
and could have been sufficient to produce a menu-like
vocabulary.
In principle, such a word-making scenario could have been performed
by an initially speechless family, consisting of an observant
parent and a couple of children.
Actually, at the first glance, the Indo-European version of the
scenario looks even more dynamic and much more dramatic in the
motivating part, as several indications suggest that a quite extensive
vocabulary and some important grammatical rules were formed within
a single generation by a single contributor recognizable by a
distinctive feature - blindness. Nevertheless, the diagnosis may
very well be premature, as the observed homogeneity and an extremely
non-visual character of the early Indo-European vocabulary can
also be explained by other factors which are proposed and evaluated
further in this publication.
The early words
The first ideophones can roughly be characterized as statements of facts. They are
all non-visual (none of the earliest expressions seem to be inspired-
or even slightly affected by visual stimuli) and
they are all imitative in some way.
It is also noteworthy that those earliest words seem to have been
almost exclusively verbs, but some models for pronouns and nouns
were also present, as the initial understanding of the differences
between some particular actions and the objects performing them
has on occasions been vague, and sometimes both the object
and the action have been perceived and defined as a single phenomenon
- a peculiarity which only to some degree can be justified by
the impossibility of collecting visual information.
Additionally, it is important to mention that the early words were actually
single-word sentences, containing all that was necessary to express
the meaning they were supposed to convey. Moreover, they typically
consisted of just one syllable, and surprisingly, several of their
prototypes probably did not contain any vowels at all, though sooner
or later, vowels must have been inserted to make the pronunciation
easier and to increase the range of communication (to allow shouting).
Inserting vowels to prevent consonant clusters became especially
important in compounds, when the simple words were to be
placed in front of other consonant groups,
but the position of a vowel within a word was also used to mark and modify the lexical class of early derivations.
Thus, several early nouns were produced by breaking up the
ideophonic consonant cluster with a vowel,
while in the early verbs, the vowel was usually placed after the consonants,
leaving the original cluster unchanged.
For the sake of convenience I will call the words that were
made from scratch "elementary words", to distinguish
them from the rest of vocabulary which was developed by secondary
associations, adaptations and combinations of the first imitative
and self-imitative utterances.
The patterns of derivations
The transformation of the initial vocabulary into a complex system
of verbal communication went smoothly, as the ideophones
were simply assigned for a multitude of purposes.
The vocalized ingestive sequences, that entered their career as
definitions of various eating techniques, were soon used to name
the food itself, the amount of it, as well as the taste, consistence
and state of mind connected with it. All those designations, initially
related to nutrition, were subsequently generalized to apply to
virtually anything that displayed similar characteristics.
Moreover, the words that originally defined movements of mouth,
tongue and jaw, were reused to define corresponding movements
of other body parts, as well as movements in general. Hence, they
were adapted to name manual activities, body parts and tools used
to achieve effects similar to the ones produced by mouth. Furthermore,
they gave names to products of those activities, and to
several abstract ideas.
Thus, the ideophones derived from crumbling of food were not only employed
to define crumbled food, but also anything else that was crumbled,
perceived as crumbled or just used for crumbling.
The pattern was repeated with every one of the ingestive techniques,
which beside a variety of vocalized chewing, biting and crushing
sequences, also included sequences inspired by drinking, spitting,
sucking, licking and swallowing.
Virtually the same pattern was used to make derivations of ideophones
from the two other groups.
The onomatopoeia became especially fertile sources for a variety
of words echoing sounds of movements, while the non-ingestive
self-imitations produced words related to the physical activities
and experiences that provoked those vocalizations.
The ideophones were combined into larger entities
and the effects of those combinations, the complex words, produced
more derivations.
All the way the words reflected their meaning and followed it
wherever it went. Whenever the meaning could be extended to refer
to several phenomena, the word just followed that generalization
and was used to name those phenomena.
As long as a word defining an action was reused to define another
action, or when a word defining an object was reused to define
another object, the original sound was initially unaffected by
the new role. However, when words defining actions were assigned
to define objects (and vice versa) they were modified quite early
by the rules of emerging grammar.
The origins of grammar
The initial, "pre-grammatical" body of ideophones
was actually not entirely pre-grammatical, as it contained naturally
occurring similarities, which on occasions were regular enough
to be regarded as rules and followed. Those regular similarities
were not accidental but due to the fact that the origin defined
both the function and the shape of a word, which in the long run
caused that many words sharing the same function displayed similar
phonic patterns.
The natural correspondences between the shapes of words and their
functions required that whenever a word was reused to play a different
function, it must have been reshaped, in order to make that new
function understandable. To achieve that, the necessary processes
of adaptation were carried out by simple means of composition,
according to natural guidelines.
The similarities and hence the very first grammatical rules were
simply made by nature, as they were just consequences of similar
origins. Not all words of similar origin displayed similar sounds
and not all sounds within those words were similar, but those
that were, made the first, natural rules of grammar and established
the directions for its further development.
The subject of observations
The observations mentioned above and described in detail further
in this publication, were made on Polish, which remains the main
subject of my investigation, as it convincingly displays the emergence
of words and demonstrates a continuous development of the
basic ideophones, into a vocabulary recognizable as
Indo-European.
The initial choice of Polish as a language of extensive examination
was absolutely subjective and due to the simple fact that it is
my native tongue. A closer look and a comparison with other Indo-European
languages exposed, that the nicely preserved, phonosemantic
correspondences and continuous word-making patterns are significant
features of Slavic languages, and that the outstanding results
delivered by Polish are obviously due to its position within this
group. This, however should not diminish the fact that the abovementioned
principles, as well as the detailed observations I am about to
share, regard all Indo-European languages, as every Indo-European
vocabulary I have tested so far, has demonstrated to reflect the
same patterns of initial development. The observed differences
are largely made by later developments and by the quality of preservation
of the original phonosemantic structure of language, not by its
mere presence, which is common for the entire Indo-European group.
Because of the common character of the basic vocabulary, I hope
that in most cases the phonosemantic correspondences and correlations
with other Indo-European languages will became obvious and self-explaining.
Nevertheless, I will occasionally point out some important similarities
and comment on the less obvious ones, that otherwise may escape
your attention. Some comments will also be used to explain the
appearance of the early, single-verb sentences, which can only
be understood thru the originally inflected nature of Indo-European
language - a feature that originally affected the shape of words
and influenced the formation of grammatical system, but is now
unequally represented within the IE-group, as it seems to be heavily
damaged and partially defunct in the languages that emerged in
result of major interactions between distinct populations.
Furthermore, as this publication is written in English, I will
frequently point out several corresponding patterns observed within
this language and include a few comments on the semiotic similarities
and peculiarities of Teutonic languages, however I believe that
a truly comprehensive investigation of every single language should
be carried out by its native speakers.
This publication is an attempt, to demonstrate and describe the
basic principles of the processes that developed a language. I
hope, that once those principles are drawn and published, they
can by used to identify, explore and reconstruct similar structures
within other languages.
The basics of word making
The basic ideophones were created by associating sensory
experiences with sounds and mouth movements that accompanied those experiences.
If the experience was soundless, the associated mouth movements
were vocalized, producing a self-imitative ideophone.
If neither the facial muscles nor the mouth, tongue or oral
cavity was affected during the experience, the association
was made between the experience and the accompanying sound.
In this case, the product of the association was an onomatopoeia, as the
sound of the experiance was imitated to name the experiance.
In a hypothetical situation, when the experience did not
provoke any facial activity and was not accompanied with
a sound, a basic ideophone was seemingly not developed,
as the part of vocabulary which I believe to be the oldest,
does not contain any elementary words reflecting events
that neither emitted sounds, nor affected the mouth.
The last observation corresponds to a striking absence of visually
inspired words and presence of common definitions covering
a wide range of things, creatures, actions and phenomena of
nature, that differ from one another in every possible respect,
except for a similar sound they produce. When those various phenomena
were eventually distinguished, it was done by the way they touched,
sounded and felt - not by visual means.
Out of darkness
A simple explanation for the initial lack of differentiation, as well as an
explanation for the non-visual perception of surroundings, would
be the impossibility to collect visual information caused by blindness.
Such explanation corresponds well with other peculiarities, suggesting
that the initial vocabulary was developed by a single human being,
and that this human being was, at least initially, completely
insensitive to visual stimuli.
Basically, the core of the Indo-European vocabulary looks, like
it was created by a blind child, trying to communicate with the
world.
On the other hand, a similar effect could be expected if the
language was developed in a lightless environment.
Living in a cave (which seems to be attested by some semantic
peculiarities) would make a perfect match, since it both explains
the invention of speech, and provides a practical reason for its
rapid success and acceptance.
The usefulness of an invention is the best guarantee of its success,
and a system of verbal communication would have been very useful
for humans living in such an environment.
Hence, the "blindness" can be just an illusion caused
by the lightless surroundings while the "blind child"
could in reality represent a whole group of people, systematically
developing their skills of speech - virtually, every time they
were at home together, and by the way: English home
is Danish hjem, but Polish jama
is a cave.
The habit of vocalizing would have been valuable in itself, revealing
the current position, activities and condition to other members
of the group - information, that otherwise would have been difficult
to obtain in darkness. The clicking mouths and smacking tongues
over dinners without candlelight, could have provided a repetitive
source of inspiration and eventually flourish into some kind of
meaningful conversations. Even if the first chats would have been
limited to exchanging opinions about the food and its quality,
the technique had a great potential for expressing thoughts and
ideas in a way that could be understood in darkness.
The creative process could have involved several related groups
of humans, exchanging and improving their language skills while
gradually developing similar verbal patterns.
Speech, as a non-visual alternative to gestures and face expressions,
could have easily emerged independently in several places. The
developments could have lasted for ages and proceeded with variable
intensity depending on circumstances (e.g. faster during the winter),
while the vocabulary could still reflect the dark environments
in which the languages were created and used. Since one completely
dark environment looks exactly the same as any other completely
dark environment, while the ingestive techniques are the same
for all humans, several early vocabularies could have been very
similar, without being related to each other.
Such a multi-treaded model of language development fits well
with a few observations I have made on non-Indo-European tongues
which also contain important words deriving from ingestive vocalizations,
however I have not found any evidence suggesting that the emergence
of the particular vocabulary and grammar, recognizable as Indo-European,
is a result of a long-lasting, collective creativity, nor can
I see any trace of early loan-words from non-Indo-European languages,
or anything else that could support a heterogeneous origin. On
contrary, the initial structure of Indo-European languages appears
to be so homogenous, that it looks as if the early stages of development
were conducted rapidly, by a single human being, and like it
took some time before other humans actively contributed to the
development of vocabulary.
Apart from the non-visual character, the early words share a misunderstanding or - more precisely - a peculiar
understanding of the ongoing reality, which seems to reflect a childish mind. What
is even more important, this "childish mind" seems to
evolve and increase its understanding, while developing the principles
of language. If it indeed represents a group of humans, then the
members of the group must have shared exactly the same conditions
of life. Moreover, they must have been undergoing the same stages
of mental development, while sharing the same experiences, which
I simply cannot imagine, unless the initial word-making group
consisted just of a pair of twins, or a couple of children equal
in age, growing up at the same place and time, which brings my
early Indo-European story back to a single cave... or to a talkative,
blind child.
The taste of sunshine
Presence of some surprisingly non-visual words, created outside
the habitat rather then inside it, seemed to provide a major argument
in favor of the idea of a "blind child". Trying to make
sure whether this could be a conclusive proof of blindness, I
have noticed that some of those words are quite complex and none
of them are elementary words. Moreover, they seem to have occurred simultaneously
with some visually inspired words, which all together means that they
are of a later origin.
The simultaneous creations of visual and non-visual words
may indicate that at this point several individuals already participated
in the development of language, but it may also suggest that the
first Indo-European was not blind after all. If the initial blindness
has been a temporary effect of growing up in a lightless environment,
the handicap - if any - might have been limited to a specific
period of life - namely to the childhood.
A simple reason for the peculiar, continuous tendency to describe
just about anything in terms of touch, taste and sound, becomes
clear once you realize how difficult it is to derive
a visual word out of a non-visual one, and when you notice that
this method is still relatively easy when compared with the alternative
of creating a meaningful, visual word out of nothing.
The language of the first Indo-Europeans was simply not designed
to communicate visual concepts. The auditory-gustatory-tactile
origin caused the initial vocabulary to be unfitted for defining
and communicating visual observations, and simply doomed the language
to remain non-visual for some time. While words referring to sounds,
movements and gustatory sensations could have been
easily created by simple combinations and derivations, it required
a lot of imagination to create understandable words describing
visual phenomena in terms of taste and sound - especially when
those phenomena were soundless and not eatable. Nevertheless,
the imagination, creativity and appetite had no limits as demonstrated
by the Indo-European names of the Moon, which because of its ever-changing
form (the "bite marks"), has been perceived and defined
as continuously eaten.
Also the Sun was given an ingestive name, usually a salty one.
The name referred to the impact the Sun had on the body, namely to the salty taste
experienced due to dehydration and the salty skin caused by sweating.
Never mind the official etymologies.
Slavic words for Sun, such as Polish słońce and Russian solnce can still be understood as "making salty",
while the English sunshine has only been reinterpreted away from its original meaning which must have been: "salty skin" (more visible when compared with the Danish solskin).
In much the same manner Latin sal (salt) gave name to sol (the Sun) and Greek halas to helios, as
the original relationship between names of the Sun and its sensible impression on the tongue and skin, can be observed
all over the Indo-European group and beyond it.
Though reffering to the Sun in terms of feel (as "the heat") rather then taste was also quite common,
the word for the heat itself was just an adaptation of an earlier, gustatory definition conveying the meaning of a sharp taste ("sour", "bitter"),
which again evolved out of simple, ingestive terms, through extending their initial meaning of "eating", "biting". All of the related visual words are late.
The basic way of making names for visual phenomena, including such ostentatiously visible ones as the Sun, Moon, light and fire, was by deriving them from previously named non-visual concepts.
Only once the initial obstacle of non-visuality was overcome and some visual phenomena were understandably defined in terms of taste, feel or sound, they could be used as visual references and become sources for truly visual derivations.
Summarizing the above mentioned observations and considerations,
I am convinced that the language of Indo-Europeans was born in
darkness and was developed to compensate for the impossibility
of visual communication. While the particular circumstances that
prevented the visual communication can theoretically extend from blindness or just a nightfall
at one end of the spectrum, to some natural disaster (e.g. mount Toba eruption) at the other, it looks to
me that the core of Indo-European language was formed at a single
place, within a small group of humans, of whom at least one (the most creative one) spent much of the formative years in darkness.
Looking for family
The development of language was initiated by formation of several ideophones
which may, or may not have been uniquely Indo-European.
Some of those elementary words seem to be shared by non Indo-European
languages and a few phonosemantic constructions must have been
more popular then others, as their derivations can be commonly
found within several language groups. It is of particular interest
that the similarities are obviously not accidental, as those non
Indo-European words appear to mirror the same imitative patterns,
and sometimes even their derivations seem to reflect the same
associations.
The question arising from this is: Are those very early Indo-European
and non-Indo-European words related ?
Could there have existed a universal proto-language that predated
the emergence of the Indo-European, or were there just some universal
mechanisms for creating words ?
Expecting at least some of the word-making mechanisms to be universal,
I believe that their products may, but do not have to be related.
Those similarities might indeed derive from a very early stage
of a common linguistic development, but they may just as well
represent parallel developments, similar to the Indo-European
ones.
My believe in that the second option may be equally possible,
relies mainly on the ostentatious homogeneity of initial development
demonstrated by Polish, but also correlates with an observation
that the universal part of vocabularies is usually limited to
words deriving from ingestive vocalizations, which by way of nature
should be the same, or at least very similar for all humans.
The common part do not seems to include early compound words,
and usually do not even contain common words deriving from the
same onomatopoeia, which should be present if several language
families emerged as a result of a differentiation predated by
a long lasting, common, linguistic development.
In principle, any remains of an inherited, common vocabulary,
as well as possible traces of an early world wide word exchange,
should as a minimum contain random words, not just
the words belonging to one particular, self-imitative category
- unless that particular category of ideophones, was the only one existing
at the time of divergence.
Nevertheless, the last possibility cannot be dismissed, as the
self-imitations that are related to ingestion seem to have been
the first voices to became permanent vocabulary items, which in
itself is enough to provide us with an early, "ingestive"
stage of language development, that could have been the original
common source of several distinct language groups. Moreover, beside
the words deriving from the same ingestive vocalizations, some
non-Indo-European tongues seem to contain onomatopoeic words deriving
from imitations of friction noises, that were also a particularly
old and fertile source of several Indo-European designations.
However, though those words and languages might be discreetly
related, once again the question of parallel developments arises,
as not only similar ingestive vocalizations, but also similar
onomatopoeia could have been invented and reinvented anywhere
at anytime, if the necessary conditions that caused the original
invention arose.
It is also reasonable to suppose that at the time, when the first
languages emerged, several vocalizations have already been in
use. There may have existed a vocabulary, consisting of short,
ingestive self-imitations, which could have been shared by all
humans, providing a fundament for several language families.
Such a model of implementation of very simple, previously used
forms is not contradicted by the observed early stages of Indo-European
development, and might show to be in concordance with early stages
of other language families. However, though those voices would
not have been meaningless, and though many of them must have sounded
quite familiar, there is no trace that prior to the stage that
can be observed in the development of Indo-European languages,
they were deliberately modified or intentionally assembled into
larger entities, with a possible exception of reduplicative ones,
which makes me wonder to which extend such a limited repository
of verbal expressions could have performed the role of a language
?
I suspect that those voices have followed the evolution of human
species for ages, and still barely allowed vocal communication
above the level achieved by animals (the sounds dogs make, are
not meaningless either and they can be incredibly reduplicative
from time to time).
In contrast, during the early stages of development that can
be observed in Indo-European languages, the monosyllabic ideophones
seem to have been loosely composed together and frequently
recomposed to convey distinct meanings, in a way similar to the
one in which we today rearrange and combine various words to produce
different sentences. It looks like the most natural and hence
most frequent combinations eventually turned into permanent entities,
becoming several, new vocabulary items, while the elements that
where most frequently reused, remained loosely connected, becoming
the affixes that we still use to modify the meaning of words.
We can imagine that if a group of people departed before the time
when the frequent combinations of monosyllabic elements became
fossilized into complex words, the vocabulary independently composed
by this group could have been very different from the Indo-European
ones.
Actually, such independent word formations can be also observed
in relations between Indo-European languages, where at several
occasions, semantically similar but phonetically distinct ideophones
have been chosen to produce complex words, conveying the same
meaning. Those early lexical differences among Indo-European
languages include several independently made compound words and
derivations, which together suggest that the group of Indo-European
speakers started to disintegrate very early, and that their language
developed into dialects shortly after it was born, at a time when
only a few compound words existed.
If any group departed even earlier, the obvious lexical similarities
between its language and the Indo-European ones, would be limited
to simple words deriving directly from ingestive vocalizations,
such as some words related to nutrition and a few pronouns, perhaps
accompanied with some of the oldest onomatopoeic imitations of friction
noises.
Taking all into consideration, I believe that the origin of similarities
between Indo-European and non-Indo-European languages is much
older than usually assumed, as (apart from later loans) those similarities
may reflect two, very early stages of a possible common development:
the one, that can be observed in Indo-European languages and another,
earlier one, that we can only speculate about. In the last case
the lexical similarities will not be deriving from a common language,
but would represent parallel developments deriving directly from
the latest stage of human evolution, that predated the emergence
of languages. Those oldest similarities will be due to the simple
fact, that for the purpose of communication, we all adapted organs used
for respiration and ingestion of food.
The origin
Though the ingestive origin of several early words, suggests that
the transition from eating to speaking was made through eating
aloud, I found no conclusive proof that the first consciously
outspoken words were pronounced during ingestion. Nevertheless,
it is obvious to me that the common experience of eating in general
and eating loudly in particular, provided a reference, helping
the vocalized self-imitations to be immediately understandable for
non-speakers. Being exposed to ingestive noises on a regular basis,
the listeners surely learned to recognize their various meanings
which in the long run became self-evident.
What is equally important, the demonstrated technique was already
everybody's possession. It only had to be used consciously, in
an intelligent way to became a versatile mean of communication.
Since the ingestive ideophones are just vocalized imitations of ingestive
movements, the border between eating aloud and speaking was not
formal but a mental one. Once a sequence of ingestive movements
was consciously vocalized to express a thought, and that thought
was understood, the development of language became just a matter
of time, intelligence and motivating surroundings.
While the usual purpose of making words must have been to communicate,
it sounds to me that the first consciously pronounced words were
created in an attempt to revert the associative process and make
the original sensory experience com back, by mimicking the mouth
movements and sounds associated with that particular experience
(magical, but very human). Judging from their present meaning
they were most likely predated by reflexive behaviors related
to nurture.
Since those actions must have been rewarded in order to be repeated
and eventually developed into a language, there must have been
someone observant and caring enough to react on the signals. Surprisingly,
though a presence of some family is recorded, there is no trace
that adult individuals contributed to the development of vocabulary,
nor is there any actual evidence that some of them ever returned
the conversation. Though it does not prove or disprove anything,
it worries me a lot, as this family does not seem to display any
other characteristics that could help identifying them as humans.
Contemplating the lifestyle reflected in the early vocabulary,
together with the fact that the word makers perceived their family-members
as being animals, I have even considered a possibility that the
first Indo-European speakers could have been children raised among
animals, but additional observations did not delivered enough
substantial evidence for such a claim, which must remain hypothetical
and less probable then a very early, Paleolithic origin of Indo-European
language.
The self-imitative pattern
The most significant group of words produced by self-imitations are short,
vocalized sequences of mouth movements, related to ingestion.
As I have mentioned before, using today's standards, those words
can be roughly defined as statements of facts. I believe they
were initially pronounced to recall the original experience, and
we can guess that they were very soon employed to express much
more than that, but at the beginning they were not deliberately
formed to fit the various roles of nouns, verbs or adjectives.
Their form was shaped only by their origins, and it was similar
only in the extent in which the origins were similar. That, however
meant: quite a lot - and the fact that they were not formed deliberately
did not mean that they were unfitted to play their roles.
On contrary. Since their shape made their meaning almost self-explaining,
they played their roles so well, that they made futures standards.
In the case of the ingestive imitations, it was the role
of verbs.
The verbs came into being thru actions and were shaped by those
actions. This simple principle caused that the sound of a word
deriving from an ingestive self-imitation, depended on the natural
technique used to deal with the dish, which again depended greatly
on the dish itself.
A few typical examples of such ingestive sequences are:
ml --> mlę (I am munching, I am grinding,
I am milling, I am mincing)
mn --> mnę (I am crumpling, I am creasing)
ss --> ssę (I am sucking)
gn --> gnę (I am bending)
The words to the right of the arrows are actual Polish words
(they are not some reconstructed words). To those of you, who
are unfamiliar with the Slavic grammar, I explain that those short
words are at the same time entire sentences, expressing complete
thoughts, corresponding exactly to the English translations in
parentheses. The sign ę is pronounced largely
through the nose, while closing the mouth.
The letters to the left of every arrow, symbolize the individual
ingestive movements. Linked together, they represent the original,
ingestive sequences that formed the ideophones.
Let us take a look on the mechanics and derivations of those sequences
and try to identify the techniques they reflect, as well as the
food they were used to deal with.
The sequences ml and mn are
used when dealing with a variety of foods that just need to be
slightly and repetitively squeezed with lips and tongue, before
swallowing. My first, romantic impression was that both of those
sequences were originally related to lactation, because of the
several milky derivations they produced. This, however seemed
to be contradicted by other derivations like e.g. English meal
which is even better then milk, but perhaps originally
referred to lactation as well.
The simple truth is that the m is just a vocalized mouth-closure,
while the l and n are
produced by slightly different tongue positions, making both sequences
attributable to several semi-solid and semi-liquid refreshments.
However, if they derive from lactation, then the m
would represent the contraction of mouth around a nipple, while
the difference between n and l
could have been made by the side of tongue used to touch it. I
can imagine that the slightly stronger tension of mn
might also have been more suitable and more frequent during the
initial phase of lactation and pre-lactation, while
the ml would represent the proper lactation as
judged by its derivations e.g.
ml --> mlę (I am mincing, I am munching)-->
mleć (to mince, to munch)
ml --> mlę (I am mincing, I am munching)-->
mleko (milk)
As the last part of mlę is pronounced through
the nose, it seems to imitate a mouth closed on the food, or around
the source of it - especially because the -ę
ending alternates in Polish with -em and -am
endings, which also reflect oral closures, as they end with an
m - a consonant pronounced entirely through the
nose, e.g.
ml --> mlę (I am munching)
and
ss --> ssę (I am sucking)
but also:
ss --> sysam (I am sucking)
and less correct, but widely used:
ss --> ssam (I am sucking)
An ingestive origin of those word-endings is confirmed be the
word jem (pronounced yem) which
means "I am eating" and seems to be a direct derivation
of a vocalized oral closure. Moreover, am is
a word Polish mums keep saying to their babies, when encouraging
them to eat (judging from the steady hand holding a spoon in front
of the face of a hesitating child, I am sure it means "eat!")
The small difference between the -ę and -em/-am
is made by the way the mouth is being closed. While the -am/-em
is quick and complete, the -ę is relatively slower
and incomplete. Though the difference might just be a product
of a later development, it might also suggest that in the case
of nasally pronounced -ę the food was actually
in the mouth, or was just pretended to be there, to make the meaning
more explicit.
However, a more important observation is that the ingestive -am/-em/-ę
endings obviously made a regular rule of Polish grammar - a rule
which affected all Polish verbs to be made in the future as all
of them acquired those inflexional endings for the 1st person
singular in present tense.
While eating and drinking involve several sequences of mouth
movements, some parts of those sequences are common, while other
parts are food-specific variables, shaped by the character
of the food (its size, state, consistence, structure etc). I believe
the food-specific variables to be responsible for the initial
differentiation of the ingestive verbs, while the similarities
shaped their common parts, providing models and grammatical rules
for other verbs to come.
In other words, I believe that the effect of self-imitation was
not limited to development of elementary words, but also inspired
and influenced the creation of a grammatical system. In this particular
case it provided the verbs with a distinct, phonosemantic structure
which had to be followed by any word that was to be understood
as a 1st person singular verb in present tense.
Furthermore, since ingestion required several sequences repeated
in a particular order, it also provided a model for how to string
the short imitations together, to produce more complex words (we
have to grind the food before swallowing it).
Thus, the ingestive order is followed by all of the early verbs
as well as by several nouns including e.g.: mleko
(milk) and sok (juice), where the initial sucking
and chewing sequences are followed by a k which
reflects swallowing.
ml --> mlę (I am munching) + k -->
mleko (milk)
ss --> ssę (I am sucking) + k -->
sok (juice)
An interesting detail is that ssę (I am sucking)
is pronounced with two s at the beginning, revealing
that it was originally pronounced by inspiration of air, to produce
a sucking noise, which makes the sok (juice)
a simple suck and swallow composition.
I believe that, apart from all the obvious sucking words present
in Indo-European languages, the ss sequence gave
birth to some of the Slavic s-, z-
and ze- prefixes (all meaning: of, off, from,
out of, be-), but I assume that there was originally a phonosemantic
distinction between a sucking s (pronounced by
inspiration of air) and a biting z (pronounced
by expiration), which were subsequently mixed up, because both,
the delicate biting z and the sucking s
were pronounced with teeth closed together.
If my assumption is true then:
ss --> s- (of / off / out of / from)
z --> z- (with / be-)
z --> ze- (with / be-)
The meaning of the last prefix also corresponds with the Old English
"ge-".
The fourth of the above mentioned examples of ingestive sequences,
the gn, reflects gnawing on a bone.
The g imitates a jaw closing on a bone, while
the n is the effect of touching the bone with
the tongue.
Note, that the gn is a result of just another
self-observation, in this case made on the jaw, not an observation
of the impact it had on the dish (a bone usually does not bend
- at least not much - especially if it is a large one. The jaws
do.)
gn --> gnę (I am bending)--> gnat
(a large bone)
gn --> gnę (I am bending)--> giąć
(to bend)
gn --> gnę (I am bending)--> -gnąć
(to bend)
The usual polish form for "to bend" is giąć,
which suggests a continuity of pressure as opposite to -gnąć,
which is preserved in complex words, that
usually refer to abrupt, fulfilled movements, which can be repeated
rather then continued, such as mru-gnąć
(to blink, to twinkle), mi-gnąć (to
flash), dr-gnąć (to twitch, to tremble),
dy-gnąć (to curtsey), się-gnąć
(to reach), klę-knąć (to kneel),
ję-knąć (to utter a groan). It is also present in nouns designating
bending things like scię-gno (a tendon),
ba-gno (a bog) and so forth.
As already mentioned, words shaped by the same actions displayed
similar sounds and shared similar meanings. However, it should
be added that meaning of those words was similar for their inventor,
and that inventor obviously perceived the world very differently
then we do. Hence e.g. the words containing mn
and ml were produced while dealing with anything
that had to be slightly squeezed and softened before swallowing,
while the ss sequence could make words for anything
that was related to sucking, regardless of its nature. e.g.
ss --> ssę (I am sucking)--> ssać
(to suck)
ss --> ssę (I am sucking)--> sok
(juice)
ss --> ssę (I am sucking)--> suka
(a bitch)
ss --> sysam (I am sucking)--> sysać
(to suck)
ss --> sysam (I am sucking)--> szyszka
(a cone)
(I wonder whether this cone was a young and juicy one, or if
it was the seed that was sucked out of it ?)
Besides naming food and ingestive activities, the self-imitative
sequences obviously got associated with any thoughts that usually
flow thru the inventors mind during those sequences. Hence, they
made definitions of ideas and states of mind experienced during
ingestion. e.g:
ml --> mlę (I am chewing)--> miłe
(it is nice, pleasant)
ml --> mlę (I am chewing)--> mylę
(I am mixing things together, I am mistaken)
Since those ideas and states of mind were not only occurring
during ingestion, the meaning of words was extended to cover all
other occurrences.
Thus, while the self-imitative words at first defined the very
same activities that created them, they were subsequently associated
with objects of those activities, as well as with the thoughts
that has been thought during the activities.
The next step was made by generalization of concepts and words
defining those concepts. One of the most significant effects of
this mechanism was the adaptation of definitions deriving from
ingestion to the manual activities that involved similar sequences
of movements, had a corresponding function, or simply produced
effects similar to the ones produced by mouth. This in turn lead
to naming the tools and products of those activities.
To give an idea about the impact of the self-imitative pattern
on the development of vocabulary, I present below a few important
ingestive sequences, together with a handful of their derivations.
The derivations are drawn within the rows of the tables, while
the columns are supposed to represent a few stages of language
development. The exact positions of words within the structures
are by no means conclusive, but I am sudden that all of them derive
from those particular ingestive sequences.
mn
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning |
| mn |
mnę |
mnę |
mnę |
mnę |
(I am crumpling)
(I am creasing)
|
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miąć |
miąć |
(to crumple, to crease) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miąższ |
miąższ |
(flesh, pulp) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mięso |
mięso |
(meat)
|
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mięso |
mięsień |
(a muscle) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miesiąc |
miesiąc |
(a month, a moon) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mąż |
mąż |
(a husband, a man) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mąż |
mężczyzna |
(a man) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miód |
miód |
(honey) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miedź |
miedź |
(copper) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miazga |
miazga |
(pulp, squash) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miazga |
mózg |
(a brain) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
między |
między |
(between, among) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mieścić |
mieścić |
(to contain, to hold)
(to comprise) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mieścić |
miejsce |
(a place) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mieścić |
miasto |
(a town) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mościć |
mościć |
(to pad, to cushion) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mościć |
most |
(a bridge) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miętosić |
miętosić |
(to crumple) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mięta |
mięta |
(mint) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
męczyć |
męczyć |
(to torment, to tire) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miot |
miot |
(litter) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miąć |
miednica |
(pelvis) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
męka |
męka |
(torment) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miękka |
miękka |
(soft) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
miękka |
miękczyć |
(to soften) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mąka |
mąka |
(flour) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mak |
mak |
(poppy seed) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mieszać |
mieszać |
(to mix) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
mąćić |
mąćić |
(to muddy) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
zmiąć |
zmiąć |
(to crumple up) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
śmiać |
śmiać |
(to lough, to smile) |
| mn |
mnę |
miąć |
pamięć |
pamięć |
(a memory) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
mnie |
mnie |
(is crumpling, creasing)
(me, to me) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
miano |
miano |
(a name) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
mienie |
mienie |
(possessions, property) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
-mienia |
-mienia |
(is changing)
( is exchanging) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
mieni |
mieni |
(is glittering) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
-mienia |
-mienić |
(to change, to glitter) |
| mn |
mnę |
mnie |
-mienia |
-mieniać |
(to change)
(to exchange) |
| mn |
mnę |
mniej |
mniej |
mniej |
(less) |
| mn |
mnę |
mniej |
mniej |
-mniejsza |
(is diminishing) |
| mn |
mnę |
mniej |
mniej |
mniejsza |
(smaller, minor) |
Note, that if this list included words from other Indo-European
languages it will also contain English words like e.g. to munch, a man,
a moon, to mean, many,
much and smith - just to mention
a few important ones.
Since Polish miąć means "to crumple",
while zmiąć means "to crumple
up", it makes the Teutonic smith/ schmidt/
smed someone "crumpling up" - a designation
undoubtedly referring to the plasticity and treatment of metal.
The word metal itself refers to its plasticity
as well, just like the Polish word for copper: miedź.
As for the Polish mąż (a husband, a man) and English man - it is hard to tell whether
the word originally referred to his manual abilities, or to the
sensations perceived and expressed tactilely. Either way it derives
from miąć (to crumple, to rumple),
but In the second case, the word would not have been a self-designation,
but a designation created by a woman.
The Polish miś (a bear) refers to the animals exceptional
ability of using its "hands". The same semantic value is reflected
in Russian medved (a bear), which can be split to med-ved,
and translated as "knowing how to crumple". This meaning is also
preserved in English bear (polish -biera means "it
takes").
I reject the traditional etymology, which derives Russian medved
(a bear) from med (honey) and believe it to be, a very
late reinterpretation.
In contrast, I think that there may have been a direct connection
between miód/ med (honey) and miedź
(copper), as those substances could have been associated because
of their plasticity, color and changes of consistency.
ml
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning |
| ml |
mlę |
mlę |
mlę |
mlę |
(I am mincing, grinding)
(I am munching)
|
| ml |
mlę |
mleć |
mleć |
mleć |
(to mince)
(to munch) |
| ml |
mlę |
mleć |
mleko |
mleko |
(milk) |
| ml |
mlę |
miłe |
miłe |
miłe |
(nice)
(pleasant) |
| ml |
mlę |
miłe |
miło |
miłość |
(love) |
| ml |
mlę |
mleć |
mleć |
milczę |
(I am silent) |
| ml |
mlę |
mleć |
mleć |
młody |
(young) |
| ml |
mlę |
małe |
małe |
małe |
(little) |
| ml |
mlę |
małe |
małe |
malec |
(a little boy) |
| ml |
mlę |
małe |
mało |
mało |
(a shortage) |
| ml |
mlę |
małe |
mało |
małość |
(littleness) |
| ml |
mlę |
miał |
miał |
miał |
(dust) |
| ml |
mlę |
mleć |
młot |
młot |
(a hammer) |
| ml |
mlę |
mleć |
młot |
młócę |
(I thresh) |
| ml |
mlę |
mylę |
mylę |
mylę |
(I am mistaken) |
In addition to the above examples, it is worth to mention, that Polish words denoting speech, such as mówić (to speak) and mowa (speech) also derive from the ml-sequence, and refer to vocalized munching, as attested by the well-preserved Czech mluvit (to speak).
Note, that młot (a hammer) is here understood
simply as a tool used for crumbling. The designation says nothing
about its shape, but refers to its function instead.
In contrast the malec (a little boy) may refer
to his size and to his eating habits (perhaps a multiple
association).
English small derives from the same sequence.
It is just preceded by a prefix s-, to convey
a meaning of something "grinded off" or "grinded
up". Although the prefix s- (of / off / be-; Old English
ge-) is not valid in English or in many of the presently spoken
Teutonic languages, it is present in German (zu-). Besides, the
meaning of this word can be understood through Slavic, and the same
is the case of English smile, smith,
straw, stench, spring,
spin, span and hundreds of other
Teutonic words, containing this and other common Slavic prefixes,
which together show, that Teutonic languages must have been
much closer to Slavic than they are at present (otherwise Mr.
Smith would have been Mr. Gemith or Mr. Gecrumpler).
ss
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning |
| ss |
ssę |
ssę |
ssę |
ssę |
(I am sucking)
|
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
ssać |
ssać |
(to suck) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
sok |
sok |
(juice) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
suty |
suty |
(copious, lavish)
(voluminous, ample) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
suty |
sutek |
(a nipple) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
syty |
syty |
(satiated) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
sycić |
sycić |
(to sate) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
sysać |
sączyć |
(to drip, to sip) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
sysać |
sysać |
(to suck) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
sysać |
cycek |
(a breast) |
| ss |
ssę |
ssać |
sysać |
cedzić |
(to strain, to sip) |
| ss |
ssać |
ssać |
suka |
suka |
(a bitch) |
gn
The gn is a part of a larger group containing two other,
closely related sequences: ng, gng (though I am
not sure whether I should regard them as separate sequences. They
seem to be nothing more then just various fragments of reduplicative
"gngngn...").
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning |
| gn |
gnę |
gnę |
gnę |
gnę |
(I am bending)
|
| gn |
gnę |
giąć |
giąć |
giąć |
(to bend) |
| gn |
gnę |
-gnąć |
-gnąć |
-gnąć |
(to bend) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnat |
gnat |
(a large bone)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnat |
nać |
(a stem, a stalk) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
-gniatać |
-gniatać |
(to squeeze)
(to press, to knead) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
gnieść |
(to squeeze)
(to press) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
gniazdo |
(a nest) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
nieść |
(to carry)
(to lay eggs) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
niecka |
(a syncline, a trough) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
nieco |
(a little)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
nić |
(a thread)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
niecić |
(to light a fire)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnieść |
ognisko |
(a fireplace)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
-gniata |
-gniata |
(is squeezing)
(is kneading) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gniecie |
gniecie |
(is pressing)
(is
squeezing) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gniecie |
nieci |
(is making fire)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gniotę |
gniotę |
(I am squeezing)
(I am
pressing) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gniotę |
kończę |
(I am finishing) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
-gniatam |
-gniatam |
(I am squeezing)
(I am
kneading ) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
-gniatam |
-kańczam |
(I am finishing) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
koniec |
koniec |
(an end) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
koniec |
-konać |
(to finish, to die) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
koniec |
nic |
(nothing) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gont |
gont |
(shingle) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gont |
kontyna |
(a temple) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnić |
gnić |
(to rot) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnat |
gnić |
gnoj |
(dung) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
gnie |
gnie |
(is bending)
|
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
gniew |
gniew |
(anger) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
ginie |
ginie |
(is perishing)
(is
vanishing) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
-gina |
-gina |
(is bending) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
gna |
gna |
(is running)
(is speeding) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
goni |
goni |
(is chasinig)
(is running) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
goni |
-goń |
(chase) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnie |
goni |
koń |
(a horse) |
| gn |
gnę |
gonię |
gonię |
gonię |
(I am chasing)
(I am running) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnam |
gnam |
gnam |
(I am running)
(I
am speeding) |
| gn |
gnę |
-ginam |
-ginam |
-ginam |
(I am bending) |
| gn |
gnę |
-gnąć |
-gnąć |
-gnąć |
(to bend) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnać |
gnać |
gnać |
(to chase, to run)
(to speed, to drive) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnać |
gonić |
gonić |
(to chase, to run) |
| gn |
gnę |
gnać |
gonić |
goniec |
(a runner) |
The English derivations of those sequences are all the gnashes,
knacks, knocks, nests,
kings and queens including their
necks and knees, as the enormous
part of Indo-European vocabulary consisting of the gn/
kn/ zn, the ng/
nk/ nz and the gng/
gnz/ knz/ knk/
znk sequences, originated as vocalized gnawing.
However, while some of the first derivations referred directly
to the bending movements of a jaw, others referred to the gnawn
object: the gnat (a bone) and to the impact of
jaws on the object: gniecenie (pressure, squeezing,
kneading, crumpling).
When their meanings were extended, the few
early words gave similar names to a multitude of different phenomena
associated with bending and squeezing including... a woman.
Yes, I am aware of how crazy it sounds, but nevertheless, the
meaning of Polish żona (a wife), English
Queen, Greek gyne(a woman), Danish kone (a wife) are
tactile terms.
Actually, several Indo-European words for "man", "woman",
"wife" and "husband" seem to refer to caressing and
to emotions and sensations experienced and expressed tactilely,
but the original definitions seem to have been sensible or simply
sensory rather than sexual, and at several occasions the meanings
of words for "wife" and "woman" refer to the
sensations experienced during the act of giving birth, rather
than to actions that preceded this act. Thus, the association
between the gn sequence and a woman seem to have
been created by the experience of parturition, perhaps visually
reinforced by the changes of body shape during pre-gnancy,
but the prototype -gina (is bending) provided
plenty of room for diverse interpretations, and adding a t
or d after the gn, could easily modify
the meaning to refer to "something squeezed" or "squeezed
out" instead of "something bending".
Whether sexual or not, the initial meaning of those gn
derivations obviously referred to the elasticity of the most intimate
part of the female body, that was known in everyday English as
a cunny and a cunt, long before
those words were stamped as "slang terms".
By the way, adding a d or t to a gn- sequence did not have to result in an offensive word. For example, a German child does not mind being called "ein Kind" - a word that seemingly denoted "something squeezed out".
A fascinating thing about the etymology of gyne,
kone, Queen etc, is that it
is quite biblical. Those words derive from a vocalization made
when dealing with a gnat (a large bone) and the
large bone may very well has been a rib, providing an additional reason for a strong association
between the gn sequence and bending.
Judging from the Teutonic and Slavic phonosemantics, the king/
kniaź/ książe was a term referring
to physical strength.
Judging from Slavic languages alone, the word derives directly from gnieść
(to suppress, to squeeze, to knead), which makes the king look
much more like an alpha-male and simply a sexual counterpart of
a Queen.
In contrast, the Slavic designations of a book (Russian kniga,
Polish ksiega) refer clearly to its "breakable"
nature. (- so maybe the king was a librarian or a writer? Probably
not.)
Another mysterious word is the Slavic kontyna
(a temple). The usual assumption is that this term derives from
a roof covered with shingle, that is supposed to have distinguished
the temple from other buildings which were covered with straw.
However, it seems to me that this word was made at a time when
the word gont referred to bones, and hence the
term kontyna (a temple) probably referred to
some construction made of bones, or simply to a bone deposit (in
the last case, I wonder if the bone deposit was a dining room,
a common grave or a weaponry, or whether it could have been all
of those things ?)
The fire and the fireplace are obviously defined as effects of
pressure (Polish: gniecenie) and the meaning must have
originally referred to the act of making a fire, rather then to
the fire itself. However, in contrast to the ognisko
(a fireplace), the word ogień (a fire) is
shaped in a way suggesting that it was also perceived as a tool.
The Polish word for "a tail": ogon
is shaped in similar way to convey the meaning of oganiać
(to drive away, to fend off).
After over a year on this project, it no longer surprises me that
the words for "fire" and the "fireplace" originally
did not refer to visual sensations, but I still wonder why
the gn-sequence has been chosen to name this
element, as there are other sequences that could convey similar
meanings. It seems as if there was an additional connection among
ogień (a fire) kontyna (a temple)
and gnaty (bones). Can rotten bones burst into
fire ?
The gn and ng sequences were
frequently composed with a z, producing zgn
zng and gnz. On other occasions
they were simply alternated with zn and nz.
The final composition depended on whether the meal allowed the
teeth to be closed together (zn, nz),
or if the size of it required the use of cheek teeth (gn,
ng).
When the size and consistency of food encouraged the use of front
teeth and the cheek teeth together, the zgn, zng,
gnz combinations were employed. Hence, e.g. Polish
znak (a sign) and English/ Latin sign
suggests that the original signature was made with both, the front
teeth and the cheek teeth. However, before deciding whether the
first result was a significant bite mark or a broken branch, perhaps it is worth
considering that this word may have been created later, when
the meaning of ingestive sequences has already been generalized
to refer to movements of other body parts. Thus, a sign may have
been given by just nodding one's head: skinąć
(to nod, to make sign) - unless the nodding head is a self-imitation
of a bite.
An interesting example of a transformation of the ingestive zng
composition to a word referring to speech is provided by Danish
snakke (to talk).
A funny thing I noticed is that Polish śniadanie
(a breakfast) seems to be just an altered form of zgniatanie
(crushing, crumpling) and that both words derive from gnawing
on bones.
Another interesting derivation of the zgn composition
is the Teutonic/English skin. Judging from Polish
zgina (is bending) and zginać
(to bend), the term skin refers to its elasticity.
By the way, the Latin word centum is presumed
to have originated from a common, Indo-European numeral for one
hundred, reconstructed as "*kmtom". According to my
observations the term centum did not came into
being, as a numeral, but as a statement of fact: "I am finishing",
that only much later was employed to express the quantity "one
hundred".
The process and effect of its development can be seen on the table
above, and is present in Teutonic languages as well. The Latin
centum is a cognate of Polish kończę
(I am finishing), -kanczam (I am finishing),
and koniec (the end), as well as the Teutonic
end, ende. The -kańczam
(I am finishing) itself is a cognate of -gniatam
(I am squeezing, pressing, kneading) and the meaning of all those
words, refers to an observation of approaching the end of a meal.
The observation was made with a jaw gnawing on a gnat
(a large bone), which thereby become a symbol of all ends.
In Greek, the jaw itself was associated with the activity (Greek
gnathos means a jaw).
In contrast to all the words related directly to gnawing, the
Polish koń (a horse) was defined as "something
chasing, running, racing", with goni (is
running, is racing, is chasing), goniec (a runner)
and goń (chase! pursue!) being its closest
cognates. However, even those words were produced through extending
the original meaning of the sequence defining the strong, rhythmic
jaw movements. Thus, in the same way as other self-imitative sequences,
the gnę (I am bending) and gnie
(is bending) were used to define goni (is
chasing, is running) as well as several other actions and phenomena
that displayed repetitive bending movements. The English "to
go" has the same origin.
pn
Another vocalization of ingestive technique is the pn.
The sequence was most likely produced by sucking juices of a hard part of food. The original requisite was probably a stalk of a plant or a small bone (hence, perhaps, the English bone), and the liquid might have been sucked through the object as well.
Since a straw may be used for sucking liquid in and for blowing some air back through it, it may easily become a toy for making a lot of bubbles:
pnę --> bania (a bulge)
pnę --> piana (a foam)
If a wand is not available, a little bubble can still be made, by blowing some air through wet lips:
pnę --> bańka (a bubble)
But the essential feature of this sequence is the simultaneous, tension of mouth and cheek muscles around an object (any object) - an effect that was subsequently associated with several phenomena displaying tension in general and simultaneous tension in particular.
pnę (I am tensing, I am stringing, I am
tightening, I am climbing)
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning |
| pn |
pnę |
pnę |
pnę |
pnę |
pnę |
pnę |
(I am tensing)
(I am climbing) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
pnie |
pnie |
pnie |
pnie |
(is tensing)
(is climbing) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
bania |
bania |
bania |
bania |
(a bulge)
(a bubble) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
pieni |
pieni |
pieni |
pieni |
(is foaming)
|
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
pieni |
pienić |
pienić |
pienić |
(to foam) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
pieni |
piana |
piana |
piana |
(a foam)
|
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
-pina |
-pina |
-pina |
(is tensing)
(is fastening) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
wpina |
wpina |
wpina |
(is sticking)
|
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
wypina |
wypina |
wypina |
(is throwing out) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
spina |
spina |
spina |
(is fastening together) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
spina |
wspina |
wspina |
(is ascending)
(is mounting, climbing) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
spina |
wspina |
wyspa |
(an island) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
-pina |
spina |
wspina |
wspaniała |
(magnificent) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
pnie |
pnące |
pnące |
pnące |
(creeping, rambling)
|
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
pnie |
pnące |
pnące |
pnącze |
(creeper, climber) |
| pn |
pnę |
pień |
pień |
pień |
pień |
pień |
(a stem) |
| pn |
pnę |
pień |
pień |
pion |
pion |
pion |
(the vertical)
|
| pn |
pnę |
pnę |
wapień |
wapień |
wapień |
wapień |
(limestone) |
| pn |
pnę |
pnie |
wapień |
wapień |
wapień |
wapno |
(lime)
|
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piąć |
piąć |
piąć |
piąć |
(to tense)
(to climb, to rise) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piąć |
pić |
pić |
pić |
(to drink)
(to tighten) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pąk |
pąk |
pąk |
(a bud) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pęknie |
pęknie |
pęknie |
(will burst) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pęknie |
pęcznieć |
pęcznieć |
(to swell)
(to bulge) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pęknąć |
pęknąć |
pęknąć |
(to split, to burst) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pęknąć |
piękno |
piękno |
(beauty) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pęknąć |
pękać |
pękać |
(to split, to burst) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pąk |
pęknąć |
pękać |
pękaty |
(bulging, rotund) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pęk |
pęk |
pęk |
pęk |
(a tuft, a bunch) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pięść |
pięść |
pięść |
pięść |
(a fist) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pięść |
pięć |
pięć |
pięć |
(five) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piąć |
pieścić |
pieścić |
pieścić |
(to fondle, to pet)
(to caress) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pięta |
pięta |
pięta |
pięta |
(a heel) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pęd |
pęd |
pęd |
pęd |
(speed) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pęd |
pędzić |
pędzić |
pędzić |
(to run, to rush) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pęcina |
pęcina |
pęcina |
pęcina |
(a fetlock, a pastern) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pęta |
pęta |
pęta |
pęta |
(is fettering, fetters) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pęta |
pętać |
pętać |
pętać |
(to fetter) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pająk |
pająk |
pająk |
pająk |
(a spider) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
pajęczyna |
pajęczyna |
pajęczyna |
pajęczyna |
(a cobweb) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piąć |
piętrzyć |
piętrzyć |
piętrzyć |
(to rise, to tower) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piąć |
piętrzyć |
piętrzyć |
piętro |
(a floor) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piać |
piać |
piać |
piać |
(to crow) |
| pn |
pnę |
piąć |
piec |
piec |
piec |
piec |
(to bake)
(a stove, an oven) |
Note that the associations between the tension of cheeks and bubbles were multi-sensory
and that piana (foam) is a visual derivation.
Off course, the English cognates of those words are "to
bend", "to pinch",
"to pick", "a bone",
"a pod", "a paunch",
"a pane", "a pin",
"a band", "speed",
etc.
The above group seemingly also contains the prototype of Teutonic
weapons: wapień (a limestone),
but in principle this v + pn
construction may have originally referred to any object, firmly
held in hand. It may also have referred to a projectile, or a tool used to throw
out projectiles. Polish wpinać means "to
stick", but wypinać means "to throw
out". Both words convey tension, but while the wpinać
refers to inwards tension, the wypinać refers
to outwards tension, or simply to a release of tension.
The names of Apennines mountains as well as
the Pieniny mountains are very clearly deriving
from the pn sequence and the associations with
other words produced by this sequence must have been multiple
e.g. piąć (to tense, to climb, to rise),
pion (vertical), pienić
(to foam) piętrzyć (to rise, to tower)
and wapień (a limestone).
I guess, the association that produced the English bone
were multiple too (a bone can be used as a pin)
and so were the ones that created the words penis
and pine, but the thing that puzzles me the most
is that several Indo-European designations of hands and feet
seem to derive from a common definition. Unable to grasp anything
with feet, I wonder, how long is it since we have lost this ability
?
rv
The rv reflects tearing.
Both the r and the v were in
this case produced during a continuous bite, but the v
was shaped by bringing the lips together.
rv --> rwę (I am tearing)
rv --> rów (a ditch)
The Polish rów (a ditch) is defined as an effect
of tearing, so I expect the English row, rift
and river to fit in the same group.
The rv was frequently combined with onomatopoeic
sequences imitating friction noises. On other occasions it was
preceded by a g or a k which
looks ambivalent, as it can reflect swallowing or a bite. According
to the natural guidelines (bite before tearing, chewing and swallowing)
there should be a firm bite at the beginning so the initial g
/ k should represent the biting g.
Some simple combinations of g (biting )+ rv
(tearing) are:
g + rv --> grv --> krew (blod)
g + rv --> grv -->-krawam (I
am cutting)
g + rv --> grv --> krowa (a
cow)
g + rv --> grv --> grzywa (a
mane )
g + rv --> grv --> krzew (a
bush)
A very similar composition is made with a z
to produce z + rv sequences,
reflecting biting + tearing off smaller portions of food and skin
with the fore teeth (in contrast to the g + rv
combination that imitated the use of the cheek teeth).
z + rv --> zrv --> zryw (a sudden
effort)
z + rv --> zrv --> zrywam (I
am tearing off)
There is a significant group of words that seem to had undergone
a change from rv to rp / rb.
I suspect that the change was a consequence of frequent, but somehow
unnatural combinations of the rv with the pn
sequence, that together were supposed to convey a meaning of "tearing
of and keeping". I suppose, the formation of rv
+ pn caused that the v had to
be omitted or replaced by a vowel, producing rab,
rep, rob, rip
etc, instead of the expected but unspeakable rvp.
The concept of extending previously used rv and
grv sequences with a pn at the
end, seems to have been related to the adaptation of the ingestive
definitions to manual activities, where the pn
(simultaneous tension) became a very important element referring
to a hand close, starting with the piąć (to tens)-->
pięść (a fist).
A list of some simple words that were seemingly affected by the
rv to rp change may be arranged
as a schedule of a working day, containing anything that had to
be picked, including a few things that probably tried to run away.
rv + pn--> rpn
rpn --> robię (I do)
rpn --> robić (to do) -->robota
(work)
rpn --> robak (a worm, a grub, a maggot)
rpn --> ryba (a fish)
rpn --> rzepa (a turnip)
rpn --> żaba (a frog)
A similar list refers to "raking together". The meaning
is conveyed by adding the pn at the end of the
grv. Many of those words refer to various earthworks,
starting with grób (a grave).
grv + pn --> grpn
grpn --> grzebę (I am digging, I am burying)
grpn --> grzyb (a mushroom)
grpn --> grabię (I rake, I plunder)
grpn --> grabie (a rake)
grpn --> grzebień (a comb)
grpn --> grób (a grave, a tomb)
grpl --> grobla (a dam)
grpn --> garb (a hump)
grpn --> garbaty (hump-backed)
grpn --> grzbiet (a back, a ridge)
grpn --> gruby (thick, large)
Note that those words refer to convexity, not concavity, and
hence the term grób (a grave) must have
originally referred to a mound (well, at least in the Slavic version).
This group of words obviously contain the etymologies
of Carpathian Mountains and of the Riphean
Mountains reported by ancient sources:
garb (a hump) --> grzbiet
(a ridge) grzbiety (ridges)
Which means that the original "Vicious Gryphons
digging for gold in the Riphean Mountains ",
were probably just the mountaineers mining there.
I hope that the connection with all the Indo-European words referring
to tearing and "raking together" is obvious (English:
to gripe, to grip, to grab,
to grub, grapes, a group,
garbage and so forth), but it is also important to notice
that the composition of zrv and grv sequences
follows the original ingestive order (bite first, and then tear),
which means that they may have easily emerged as ready-made, complex
entities, that could have been subsequently disassembled into
smaller, meaningful sequences and reassembled together with other
elements, to convey distinct meanings.
The effects of the rp compositions (to rape,
a rapine, a rope) are very similar
to those of grp, (e.g. to grip,
to grab) and the words produced by those combinations
have similar meanings, but the semantic difference deriving from
the rapid outwards direction of tearing (riving)
versus the firm, inwards direction of a grip is usually
preserved.
Nevertheless, it is also possible that all those words represent
more or less successful attempts to produce a g
+ rv + pn composition which,
due to the rvp cluster, resulted in various simplifications.
In that case, all those words would have initially conveyed the
meaning of "catching + tearing + holding together ",
which makes sense as well. But, though there are several examples
of three or more elements composed together, every new composition
seems to has been made between two items at a time, so the scenarios
of composing grv+pn and rv+pn
seem more plausible to me.
Self-imitations unrelated to ingestion
Another category of self-imitative words are those to do with physical activities,
conditions and emotional states that affect the muscles in the
oral cavity and the facial muscles around it. Some of those words
were involuntary exclamations such as "Oh", while others
are very similar to the ingestive ideophones.
Below are some typical examples from this interesting group, together
with a handful of their derivations:
th
The th derives from breathing aloud. It seems that the sequence was formed by a difficult inspiration of air through the mouth, rather then by normal respiration, but the meaning was extended to cover breathing in general.
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| tch |
dech |
dech |
dech |
dech |
(a breath,
breathing) |
| tch |
dech |
duch |
duch |
duch |
(spirit, a soul)
(a ghost) |
| tch |
dech |
duch |
dusza |
dusza |
(soul, psyche)
|
| tch |
dech |
duch |
dusza |
duszno |
(sultrily, stiflingly) |
| tch |
dech |
duch |
dusić |
dusić |
(to stifle, to throttle)
(to strangle) |
| tch |
dech |
duch |
duchota |
duchota |
(difficult breathing) |
| tch |
dech |
duch |
otucha |
otucha |
(a stout heart)
|
| tch |
dech |
-dycha |
-dycha |
-dycha |
(is breathing) |
| tch |
dech |
-dycha |
dyszy |
dyszy |
(is breathing hard)
|
| tch |
dech |
-dychać |
-dychać |
-dychać |
(to breathe) |
| tch |
dech |
tchnąć |
tchnąć |
tchnąć |
(to breathe)
|
| tch |
dech |
tęchnąć |
tęchnąć |
tęchnąć |
(to stench) |
ph
Similar to the above one, but initially imitating a heavy expiration of air through the mouth; associated with the activity that usually caused it: pushing.
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
English meaning
|
| pch |
pcha |
pcha |
pcha |
(is pushing) |
| pch |
pcha |
pcham |
pcham |
(I am pushing) |
| pch |
pcha |
pchać |
pchać |
(to push) |
| pch |
pcha |
-pycha |
-pycha |
(is pushing) |
| pch |
pcha |
-pycha |
pycha |
(conceit, pride) |
| pch |
pcha |
pchnąć |
pchnąć |
(to push) |
| pch |
pcha |
pchnąć |
pachnąć |
(to smell) |
| pch |
puch |
puch |
puch |
(down, powder snow) |
| pch |
puch |
puszyć |
puszyć |
(to ruffle up, to strut)
(to swagger) |
| pch |
puch |
puchnąć |
puchnąć |
(to swell) |
| pch |
buch |
buch |
buch |
(bang!, smack!) |
| pch |
buch |
buchać |
buchać |
(to burst forth, to blaze)
(to come out in clouds) |
Note that the words employing this sequence are very similar
to the derivations of pn. The difference is made
by the use of a h e.g.:
pn --> pęknąć (to split, to snap,
to burst)
ph --> puchnąć (to swell)
pn --> pąk (a bud)
ph --> puch (down, powder snow)
etc.
There are two other, closely related sequences, referring to pushing: psh and pr. They alternate the ph, producing words with similar meanings e.g.: prę (I am pushing) pcham (I am pushing) prze (is pushing) pcha (is pushing) parcie (pressure).
I belive, the psh and pr variations to be onomatopoeic modifications of the ph-sequence, and suspect that the original pronunciation has been changed according to the sound of a fart. Thus, again, the idea of pressure would have been conveyed simply by imitating a commonly known effect of a commonly known pressure.
When put together, the Indo-European derivations of the pushing pr / ph / psh / pr-sequances are innumerable, and include several interesting examples like Polish para (vapor, steam, cloud) and its English cognate: fire.
Now, let us take a look on an interesting vocalization of a creepy feeling.
mr
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| mr |
mrę |
mrę |
mrę |
mrę |
(I am dying) |
| mr |
mrę |
mrze |
mrze |
mrze |
(is dying) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-miera |
-miera |
(is dying)
(becomes motionless) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-mierać |
-mierać |
(to die)
(to become motionless) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-mierać |
śmierć |
(death) |
| mr |
mór |
mór |
mór |
mór |
(death, a plague)
|
| mr |
mór |
smród |
smród |
smród |
(a stink) |
| mr |
mór |
smród |
śmierdzi |
śmierdzi |
(it stinks) |
| mr |
mór |
smród |
śmierdzi |
śmierdzieć |
(to stink) |
| mr |
mór |
mierzi |
mierzi |
mierzi |
(is disgusting)
(is sickening) |
| mr |
mór |
mierzi |
mierzić |
mierzić |
(to disgust) |
| mr |
mór |
zmora |
zmora |
zmora |
(a ghost, a nightmare)
|
| mr |
mór |
morzyć |
morzyć |
morzyć |
(to starve) (to put to sleep)
|
| mr |
mór |
martwy |
martwy |
martwy |
(dead)
|
| mr |
mór |
martwy |
martwy |
martwić |
(to worry)
|
| mr |
mróz |
mróz |
mróz |
mróz |
(the cold, frost)
|
| mr |
mróz |
marznę |
marznę |
marznę |
(I am freezing) |
| mr |
mróz |
mrozi |
mrozi |
mrozi |
(is freezing, is chilling)
|
| mr |
mróz |
mrozi |
mży |
mży |
(it drizzles) |
| mr |
mróz |
mrozi |
-marza |
-marza |
(is freezing)
|
| mr |
mróz |
mrozi |
-marza |
morze |
(a sea) |
| mr |
mrok |
mrok |
mrok |
mrok |
(a dusk, darkness)
|
| mr |
mrok |
zmrok |
zmrok |
zmrok |
(a nightfall)
|
| mr |
mrok |
zmrok |
zamroczyć |
zamroczyć |
(to numb)
|
| mr |
mruk |
mruk |
mruk |
mruk |
(a murmur)
|
| mr |
mruk |
mruczę |
mruczę |
mruczę |
(I am murmuring)
|
| mr |
mruk |
mruczę |
mamroczę |
mamroczę |
(I am mumbling, muttering)
|
| mr |
smyra |
smyra |
smyra |
smyra |
(it tickles)
|
While the sea is both cold and murmuring, and while the cold and
the murmuring can be side effects of not feeling well, the one
thing that seems to connect all those words, is a shiver.
The compound words are also interesting e.g.
mr + rwać (to tear)--> mrówka (an
ant)
mr + rwać (to tear)--> mrowie (a swarm,
goose-flesh, creeps)
mr + rwać (to tear)--> mrowienie (pins and
needles, formication)
mr + gnąć (to bend)--> mrugnąć
(to wink, to twinkle)
The last one may be more explicit:
mrok (darkness) + gnąć (to bend ) = mrugnąć
(to wink, to twinkle)
- as the sensation of twinkling eyes is a visual-tactile one.
I have doubts about the exact placement of the morze
(a sea). Instead of referring to something freezing, this word
may be a product of more complex, visual-kinesthetic associations,
similar to those that produced the double meaning of Russian mir
(the peace, the world).
The first meaning of mir, "peace" is
closely connected to -miera (is dying, becomes
motionless) and defines peace as a state of calmness.
The second meaning of mir, "the world",
seems to derive from the first one, but it is unclear whether
it referred to an observation of something coming to a standstill
(e.g freezing down), or to a self-observation of a state of mind
and / or body caused by an impressive visual experience. In the
first case the Russian mir (the world) would
have been perceived as cold or repetitively dying (the seasons),
while in the second case it would be a term deriving from a bodily
experience, which have been extended to cover the thing that
caused it (e.g. a breathtaking view), finally to convey the meaning
of "everything within sight".
The product of the last development will be akin to the Polish
-miar in e.g. bez-miar (immensity),
u-miar (restraint) and wy-miar
(dimension). Hence, it will be related to another group of mr-derivations,
which extended the idea of -miera (is dying,
becomes motionless) to produce -mierza /mierzy
(is aiming, measuring, heading for).
I believe this peculiar semantic evolution to be a result of hunting,
where the calmness and suspended motion became synonymous with
aiming and sizing.
Here is the transition:
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| mr |
mrę |
mrę |
mrę |
mrę |
(I am dying) |
| mr |
mrę |
mrze |
mrze |
mrze |
(is dying) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-miera |
-miera |
(is dying)
(becomes motionless) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
zamiera |
zamiera |
(stops mooving, freezes) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
zamiera |
zamiar |
(an intention, a plan) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-mierza |
-mierza |
(intends, aims)
(is heading for) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-mierza |
zamierza |
(intends, aims) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-mierza |
zmierza |
(is heading for) |
| mr |
mrę |
-miera |
-mierza |
mierzy |
(aims, measures) |
A byproduct of this development is a multitude of Slavic names
containing -mierz and mir. Judging
from the context outlined above the meaning of those names evolved from -mierza
/mierzy (is heading for/ aims/ intends). Hence
e.g the name Wlodzimierz must mean "aiming for power"
or "a powerful aimer" instead of the usually proposed
"peaceful ruler" or "ruler of the world".
vr
I have been wondering whether the r derives from an imitation
of a crrushing noise or if it was originally a grrrowling.
Theoretically, it may represent both, as the hostile rrr-voice
may have been an onomatopoeia, imitating the noise of torn skin, to convey
the idea of tearing it. But then a set of questions arises: Do dogs use
imitative noises that convey meanings? The barking is seemingly a
self-imitative vocalization of biting, while the growling seems
to be a vocalized snarl, but does it convey anything else then just
a bad attitude?
Do primates growl? (I cannot recall a growling chimp, or a fellow homo sapiens making this kind of noises).
Since this publication is about phonosemantics of Indo-European
languages, I have promised myself to leave the doggy part out,
but before I do I have a question to anyone that may contribute
to the subject: How sure are we really that it was the man that
domesticated the dog? (and not the other way around?)
The reason I ask is not just because the term jama (a cave,
a den) in Polish usually refers to an earthen hole beneath a tree,
rather than to a Lascaux-type cave, but because dogs are quite
"talkative" animals and some of the sounds they make
are similar to those of Indo-Europeans e.g. the words containing
the vr sequence:
wrę (I am seething, boiling, raging )
wre (is seething, boiling, raging)
wrze (is boiling, raging)
war (boiling water)
wir (a whirl)
wara (hands off !)
wróg (an enemy)
wrogi (hostile)
warczę (I am growling)
warga (a lip)
How about adding a war and some warnings to this
list, or just some words referring to awareness?
Some of the words on the list, are actually compound words and
several of them refer to the sound of whirling water, but since
there are at least a few ways to imitate that noise, I wonder
what was the initial reason for employing this particular sequence
to create the imitations?
I suspect that the vr-sequence was chosen, because it was
already used and understood as an expression of danger and hostility.
But how can that be possible? People do not whirr to express
hostility, so where did the initial
"vr=hostility" association came from?
It sounds to me like there was an inspiring doggie out there...
somewhere, at the beginning.
Here are a few vr-derivations:
Sequence
| Words |
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| vr |
wrę |
wrę |
wrę |
wrę |
(I am seething, boiling) (I am raging) |
| vr |
wre |
wre |
wre |
wre |
(is seething, throbing) (is raging) |
| vr |
wre |
wrze |
wrze |
wrze |
(is boiling, seething) (is raging)
|
| vr |
wre |
wrze |
wrzenie |
wrzenie |
(ebullition, turmoil) |
| vr |
wre |
wrze |
wrzawa |
wrzawa |
(uproar, din, turmoil) |
| vr |
wre |
wrze |
wrzask |
wrzask |
(shriek, yell) |
| vr |
wre |
war |
war |
war |
(boiling liquid, heat) |
| vr |
wre |
war |
wywar |
wywar |
(decoction,
brew) |
| vr |
wre |
war |
odwar |
odwar |
(decoction) |
| vr |
wre |
war |
warzy |
warzy |
(is boiling) |
| vr |
wre |
war |
warzy |
warzywa |
(vegetables) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
wir |
wir |
(a whirl) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
wiruje |
wiruje |
(is rotating) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
wierci |
wierci |
(it drills, wriggles) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
-wraca |
-wraca |
(it turns) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
-wraca |
wraca |
(returns) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
-wraca |
zawraca |
(turns back) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
-wraca |
nawraca |
(returns, turns back) (converts) |
| vr |
wre |
wir |
-wraca |
wywraca |
(overturns, reverses) (overthrows) |
| vr |
wara |
wara |
wara |
wara |
(hands off !) |
| vr |
wróg |
wróg |
wróg |
wróg |
(an enemy) |
| vr |
wróg |
wrogi |
wrogi |
wrogi |
(hostile) |
| vr |
warczę |
warczę |
warczę |
warczę |
(I am growling, snarling) |
| vr |
warga |
warga |
warga |
warga |
(a lip) |
The non-ingestive verbs did not originally looked like the ingestive
ones and their meaning may have been ambivalent to the listeners,
as several early derivations are not verbs, but rather nouns referring
to actions.
However, when a word was supposed to be understood as a verb,
the best way to guarantee it was to make it sound like a verb,
and since the major group of verbs referred to ingestion, the rest
was shaped according to this model.
Putting 1 + 1 together
If a word defining an object was to be understood as an action,
it was modified in a way that preserved the original meaning and
at the same time made it sound like an action. Since a solution
was already demonstrated by the vocalized eating techniques, which
consisted of the natural "stems" (the food-specific
variables) and equally natural, regular "suffixes",
the principle was imitated by adding a suffix (e.g. a vocalized oral closure)
to the original word, which thereby became a stem of a new word
- a deliberately made verb.
As the adaptation was made with a single word at a time, against
several previously stored ones, the choice of what to fit to what
was obvious, and the question of doing the opposite was hardly
taken into consideration.
I believe the process to have been performed intuitively, rather
then by a long-lasting contemplation. Once proven to be successful,
the solution opened new possibilities and encouraged to be used
again whenever necessary, as from now on, every noun could be
made into a verb.
Moreover, the simple principle of combining two ideophones
to produce a more explicit definition was immediately employed
to create complex nouns, including nouns made of elements with
distinct origins.
In fact, several early Indo-European compound words contain onomatopoeic
ideophones, combined with the self-imitative ones, to distinct among
previously generalized concepts.
Producing an explicative noun by adding an ingestive sequence
in front of a rustling noise, or creating a verb by adding a
self-imitative mouth-closure to a word that was not related
to nourishment, may seem hilarious, but it was definitely the right
thing to do, since only the good ideas that contributed to communication
survived, while the bad ideas did not, and the idea of creating
a new word by modifying an old one was simply ingenious.
To understand why, one has to remember that the natural, phonic
similarities and dissimilarities corresponded to semantic similarities
and dissimilarities. The fact that words belonging to one group
differed from words belonging to another group, provided the initial
vocabulary with a natural structure which not only required that
a change of a word's function had to be accompanied with a corresponding
modification of its sound, but also made it possible to create
a new word by simply changing the function of a pre-existing one,
making the newly created word immediately understandable, as long
as the modification of its sound fitted a convention of another
group.
I believe that once this possibility was discovered, the production
of new words accelerated dramatically with a simultaneous development
of grammar, as both the processes were interdependent and derived
from analyzing and exploiting the same, natural similarities and
dissimilarities.
Mummy and Me
From time to time it has been proposed that the nursery words
such as mama could have been the first words
spoken. At first, I was skeptical about this idea, as I could
not see a reason why the first words pronounced by a baby should
have been the first words of humanity, nor did I seriously expected
the vocabularies of modern languages to have preserved the very
initial stages of linguistic development. However, considering
the phonosemantic structure of language, I think that nursery
words may indeed have been the oldest vocabulary items.
I believe it to be possible, because at least some of those utterances clearly fall into the category
of ingestive self-imitations.
The nursery words consist of a monosyllabic consonant-vowel combinations,
such as ma, am and mam,
increasing to reduplicative ma-ma
strings. They are usually perceived as initially meaningless expressions,
marking the early stage of a child's development towards speech.
However, those voices actually do have a meaning. Besides the
popular mama (mum) and the encouraging am
(eat !) , also the ma and mam
have semantic values in Polish. The ma means
"it has / she has / he has / mine", while the mam
means "I have". Judging from their present meanings,
the phonosemantc formation of those words went like this:
ma... --> ma
"she has / it has / he has / "- with "has"
being the most important part.
...am --> -am
a mouth close around a nipple - the source of food and the original
target of ma.
ma... ma... --> mama
unsuccessful, repetitive attempts to recall the source of food.
ma... am --> mam
a successful attempt to recall the source of food, forming the
word mam (I have got). An effect of uttering
"ma...ma..."
There is a fascinating resemblance between the construction of
nursery words and other ingestive imitations, as well as an interesting
connection with the ingestive mn-group, visible in the infinitive
forms of "to have": mieć, and "to
crumple": miąć, which suggests a common
origin of words related to "having" and "crumpling".
However, it should also be noted that the ma
differs from other ingestive sequences in that it is a consonant-vowel
combination.
A simple explanation for this peculiarity is that ma is pronounced
without any effort from the tongue, which makes it the easiest
and hence probably the first ingestive self-imitation ever made,
as it consists of nothing more then just a vocalized opening and
closing of mouth. I suppose the a-opening expressed
readiness for food intake, while the m-close
checked whether or not the source of food was available. When put together
and vocalized, the repetitive ma...ma...ma
was just a self-imitative expression of a wish to close the mouth
around a nipple. Since announcing the wish showed to be an effective
way to make it come true, the sequence was repeated every time
the need arose, giving birth to the words ma
(has) and mama (mum). In much the same way the
discontinued ma...am got associated
with the fulfillment of the wish, becoming mam
(I have got).
Since the effect of pronouncing mama not only
appeased hunger, but at the same time satisfied other basic needs
(such as the need of bodily contact or simply the need of presence
of caring person) the word was employed to name and to call into
existence the particular phenomenon that fulfilled all those needs
- a mother, while the meanings of ma and mam
were generalized to apply to all possession.
The act of nursing seem to have been the original source of some
important words related to having, squeezing, eating and being,
as well as the source of a few pronouns. Tough those words seemingly
differ in their functions and meanings, they present striking
phonic similarities and they all seem to refer to the same, very
early stage of language development.
To demonstrate the similarities, I have disregarded their meanings,
stringing the words together into phonic groups.
ma (~ has) ma (mine) mi
(me/ to me) my (we) mój
(mine) moja (mine) moje (mine)
ma (~ has) mama (mum) mam
(I have) mamy (we have)
ma (~ has) mać (a mother)
mieć (to have) miąć
(to crumple)
mnie (~ is crumpling) mnie
(me/ to me) mnę (I am crumpling)
ja (I) je (~ is eating) ją
(her)
jem (I eat) jemy (we eat) jemu
(him / to him)
je (is eating) jest (is)
jeść (to eat) jestem
(I am)
Note that the phonic similarities among those various words
are much closer then e.g. between two pronouns such as ja
(I) and mi (me), or between jestem
(I am) and być (to be) - which I have deliberately
disclosed from the list.
The reason I have omitted the być (to be)
is because it obviously derives from an entirely different sequence
of sounds. The flexed forms of "to be" such as będę
(I will be) bądź (be!) and będzie
(will be) contain nasals ą and ę
that increase to dialectal on and en
forming e.g. bende instead of będę
and revealing the origin of "to be" from another ingestive
sequence, namely the pn-sequence.
In contrast, the jest (is) and jestem
(I am) seem to be closely related to jeść
(to eat) and jem (I eat), which most likely derives
from the nursery am.The resemblance is even more
visible when jem (I eat) is compared to jam
- an old-fashioned, alternative version of "I am".
Thus, while both "to be" and "I am" seemingly
derive from ingestive sequences, they derive from two, different
sequences, and it is their distinct origin that forms the well
known irregularity of "to be" (I guess, the original
question must have been "To eat, or not to be ?").
Besides, it is noteworthy that in both cases a pronoun was derived
from a verb. A similar example is the word ma
(has), which regularly should have produced an infinitive mać.
However mać does not mean "to have".
It means "a mother", which thereby demonstrates to derive
directly from ma (~ has).
Note, that from a grammarian point of view this is a chaos.
All those words express thoughts associated with sequences of
vocalized mouth positions that were previously associated with
similar thoughts. Nevertheless, the way in which pronouns and
nouns are made from verbs, seems to be quite logical e.g. the
words mać (mother) and mieć
(to have) derive from ma (~ has) in a way similar
to the one in which the gnat (a bone) and giąć
(to bend) derive from gnę (I am bending),
with a noun and an infinitive verb deriving from a present tense
singular verb.
Both examples seem to illustrate the formation of language starting
from its pre-grammatical stage.
Though the interrelations of nursery-words are not at all clear
to me, here is an idea of how those voices may have evolved into
vocabulary items :
a
A vocalized mouth opening expressing readiness for food intake.
a --> ja (I) ?
Possibly expressed the same as a; perhaps more enthusiastic, but
I am very suspicious about the shape of this word. Since the mi
(me, to me) is related to the munching mn-sequence, while
the być (to be) derive from the bending
bn-sequence, I suspect the words: ja (I), jest
(is), jeść (to eat) and jem
(I am eating) to be related to the other bending (gnawing) sequence:
the gn. Especially because several Slavic and Teutonic
personal pronouns, as well as many words related to being and
eating, sounds to me like they were vocalizations of toothless
attempts to gnaw and perhaps toothless prototypes of what was
to became the gn and gng sequences.
am --> jem (I am eating)
The word looks to me as a slightly modified am,
but could just as well have been produced by a combination of
ja (I)+ am, or je
(is eating) + am.
ma --> ma (~has)
ma + ma --> mama (a mum)
ma + am --> mam (I have, I have got )
mam --> imam (I am clutching)
ma --> mi (me, to me)
I guess, the higher sound of a mi..mi..
(instead of the ma...ma..) could
have been more effective when competing for attention (especially
if pronounced as "miii.. mii"),
which leads my thoughts to a siostra (a sister),
because the first part of this word consists of the sucking ss-sequence.
On the other hand, mi (me, to me) may be just a short form of mnie (me, to me /~ is crumpling).
I may be dreaming, but when put together all those different
words seem to tell a story that revolved around a nipple.
Since the already mentioned jama (a cave) fits
in here, together with the jem (I am eating)
and jemy (we are eating), it makes me wonder
if the jama might have originally meant "a
place where we eat" ? - or perhaps "a place where we
eat loudly" as dziamać means "to
chew loudly".
The imitative pattern
If the mimics was not affected by the sensory experience, the association was
made with the accompanying sound, which was imitated to name the
experience.
The words created in this way fall into the category of onomatopoeia.
It sounds like the onomatopoeia initially defined actions as
well as the objects performing those actions. Perceiving a sound
and its source as a single phenomenon may seem strange from our
point of view, but it makes sense if there is no visual stimulation.
If a source of a sound is invisible, it vanishes from our surroundings
the moment it stops making noises, unless it can be tested, touched
or smelled. Thus, whenever a noise was the most remarkable or
simply the only feature informing about someone's or something's
presence, it became naturally associated with that something and
used to name it.
Considering the diversity of sounds around us, we could expect
the onomatopoeic part of a vocabulary to be very rich, but the
world in which the Indo-European language emerged, sounds to have
been rather limited and relatively quiet. I believe that the greatest
part of initial vocabulary was created in sheltered surroundings
as the predominant group of onomatopoeic words imitates friction
noises. It is those noises that are reflected in the rustling
consonant clusters so typical for Slavic languages.
In contrast to self-imitative words, which origins can be felt,
tested and observed in front of a mirror, the signified of an
onomatopoeia is reflected in the sound it imitates. Since similar
sounds can be produced by several different sources, while a single
source can produce several distinct sounds, an identification
of the original source of a sound is not easy, but nevertheless
can be done by comparing the meaning of the derivations and compound
words that contain the same onomatopoeic elements, which is just
as fun as identifying the origins of self-imitative utterances.
Have you ever wondered what the "~ther"
in "mother" "brother"
and "sister" stands for ?
"Czary w czerni" (Magic in the blackness)
Rustling imitations of friction noises were employed to name
anything that was indistinguishable in darkness, including the
darkness itself. Trying to understand why, we have to put aside
our usual way of distinguishing an defining the environment around
us, and imagine being a child in some dark hole (a cave, if you
prefer).
The important things to have in mind are: there is no light at
all, and hence there is no way to distinguish things by visual
means. Secondly, no one can explain anything to you as there is
no language (you are the one that is making it up). The few things
that you already know are the ones you gnaw,
while everything else that happens around you is an ungnawn
mystery. But the mystery is not soundless.
tsh --> trze (is rubbing)
tsh --> ~ciera (is rubbing)
dsh --> drze (is tearing)
dsh --> ~dziera (is tearing)
tsh-sh-tsh --> trzeszczy (is creaking,
is cracking)
Some of the noises come and go. Some of them feel warm, dry
or wet. All of them represent the magical creatures around you.
Though those phenomena have no shape or color, and though their
true nature is uncertain or unknown to you, they all make a noise
as they move - a rustling sound, that becomes their common name.
tsh --> czar (magic, sorcery, charm)
tsh --> czar --> czary (magic ,sorcery)
tsh --> czar --> czerń (blackness)
Trying to interpret the ongoing reality, you learn to distinguish
the magical creatures from each other. You distinguish the one
that is caring for you, from those that are not, the one that
feels wet, from the ones that feel dry and cold, and you reflect
those differences in your vocabulary by combining the common name
of those creatures (a sound of friction) with some distinctive
elements, that tell something particular about their nature:
ma-ciora (a sow)
sios-tra (a sister)
jasz-czur (a salamander)
wia-tr (the wind)
wie-czór (an evening)
wil-czur (a wolf)
The complex words produced in this way, as well as several derivations
and diverse compositions incorporating imitations of rustling
noises are widespread in all Indo-European languages including
English (e.g. trees).
Since those imitations originally applied to both the noisy activities
and the noisy objects, they were employed to name virtually anything
that moved, including artifacts (e.g. tires),
phenomena of nature (e.g. water, weather,
winter), family members (mother,
brother, father, sister)
and a large part of the Indo-European ZOO, starting with German
Tiere (animals).
Suprisingly the polish maciora means "a
sow", but polish words containing macierz
refer to a mother, which should have been the original meaning.
Her is a slightly extended, Polish version of the story of friction
noises:
tsh
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning |
| tsh |
trze |
trze |
trze |
trze |
trze |
trze |
(is rubing)
(is grating) |
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
-ciera |
-ciera |
-ciera |
-ciera |
(is rubing)
(is grating) |
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
ciarki |
ciarki |
ciarki |
ciarki |
(creeps)
(goosflesh) |
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
cierń |
cierń |
cierń |
cierń |
(a thorn)
|
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
czar |
czar |
czar |
czar |
(magic, sorcery)
(charm) |
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
czar |
czary |
czary |
czary |
(magic, sorcery) |
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
czar |
czart |
czart |
czart |
(a devil)
|
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
czerń |
czerń |
czerń |
czerń |
(blackness)
|
| tsh |
trze |
-ciera |
czerń |
czarny |
czarny |
czarny |
(black)
|
| tsh |
trze |
trzeć |
trzeć |
trzeć |
trzeć |
trzeć |
(to rub, to grate)
|
| tsh |
trze |
trzeć |
tarzać |
tarzać |
tarzać |
tarzać |
(to welter, to roll)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tarza |
tarza |
tarza |
tarza |
(is weltering)
(
is rolling) |
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
tacza |
tacza |
tacza |
(is rolling, wheeling)
(is turning, shaping)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
toczy |
toczy |
(is rolling, shaping)
(is boring, drawing)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
tok |
tok |
(a course, a progress)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
tok |
potok |
(a stream)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
toczny |
toczny |
(rolling)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
toczny |
potoczny |
(current, common)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
stacza |
stacza |
stacza |
(is rolling down)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
stocze |
stocze |
(a slope) |
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
stocze |
stok |
(a slope)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
toczy |
stocze |
stocznia |
(a shipyard)
(a dockyard) |
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
zatacza |
zatacza |
zatacza |
(is circling)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
zatacza |
zatoczyć |
zatoczyć |
(to circle)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
zatacza |
zatoczyć |
zatoka |
(a bay)
|
| tsh |
trze |
tarza |
tacza |
tacza |
tacza |
taczka |
(a wheel-barrow)
|
| tsh |
trze |
trze |
trzon |
trzon |
trzon |
trzon |
(a trunk, a stem)
|
| tsh |
trze |
trze |
trze |
strzał |
strzał |
strzał |
(a shot)
|
| tsh |
trze |
trze |
trze |
strzał |
strzała |
strzała |
(an arrow) |
SAMPA transcription :
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning |
| tS |
tSe |
tSe |
tSe |
tSe |
tSe |
tSe |
(is rubing)
(is grating) |
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
-tS'era |
-tS'era |
-tS'era |
-tS'era |
(is rubing)
(is grating) |
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
tS'arki |
-tS'arki |
-tS'arki |
-tS'arki |
(creeps)
(goosflesh) |
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
-tS'ern' |
-tS'ern' |
-tS'ern' |
-tS'ern' |
(a thorn)
|
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
tSar |
tSar |
tSar |
tSar |
(magic, sorcery)
(charm) |
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
tSar |
tSary |
tSary |
tSary |
(magic, sorcery) |
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
tSar |
tSart |
tSart |
tSart |
(a devil)
|
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
tSern' |
tSern' |
tSern' |
tSern' |
(blackness)
|
| tS |
tSe |
-tS'era |
tSern' |
tSarny |
tSarny |
tSarny |
(black)
|
| tS |
tSe |
tSets' |
tSets' |
tSets' |
tSets' |
tSets' |
(to rub, to grate)
|
| tS |
tSe |
tSets' |
taZats' |
taZats' |
taZats' |
taZats' |
(to welter, to roll)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
taZa |
taZa |
taZa |
taZa |
(is weltering)
( is rolling) |
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
tatSa |
tatSa |
tatSa |
(is rolling, wheeling)
(is turning, shaping) |
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
totSI |
totSI |
(is rolling, shaping)
(is boring, drawing) |
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
tok |
tok |
(a course, a progress)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
tok |
potok |
(a stream)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
totSnI |
totSnI |
(rolling)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
totSnI |
pototSnI |
(current, common)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
statSa |
statSa |
statSa |
(is rolling down)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
stotSe |
stotSe |
(a slope) |
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
stotSe |
stok |
(a slope)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
totSI |
stotSe |
stotSn'a |
(a shipyard)
(a dockyard) |
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
zatatSa |
zatatSa |
zatatSa |
(is circling)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
zatatSa |
zatotSIts' |
zatotSIts' |
(to circle)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
zatatSa |
zatotSIts' |
zatoka |
(a bay)
|
| tS |
tSe |
taZa |
tatSa |
tatSa |
tatSa |
tatSka |
(a wheelbarrow)
|
| tS |
tSe |
tSe |
tSon |
tSon |
tSon |
tSon |
(a trunk, a stem)
|
| tS |
tSe |
tSe |
tSe |
stSaw |
stSaw |
stSaw |
(a shot)
|
| tS |
tSe |
tSe |
tSe |
stSaw |
stSawa |
stSawa |
(an arrow)
|
tr
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| tr |
trę |
trę |
trę |
trę |
trę |
trę |
(I am rubing)
(I am grating) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
(friction)
(attrition) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarta |
tarta |
tarta |
tarta |
(grated) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tartak |
(a sawmill) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcica |
tarcica |
tarcica |
(a plank, a board) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcie |
tarcza |
(shield)
|
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starcie |
starcie |
starcie |
(an encounter)
(a clash) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starty |
starty |
starty |
(abraded, grated)
(worn away) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starty |
stary |
stary |
(old) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starty |
stary |
starszy |
(older, elder) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starty |
stary |
starzec |
(an old man) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starty |
stary |
starzeć |
(to grow old)
(to age) |
| tr |
trę |
tarcie |
tarcie |
starty |
stary |
starość |
(an old age)
|
SAMPA transcription :
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| tr |
tre~ |
tre~ |
tre~ |
tre~ |
tre~ |
tre~ |
(I am rubing)
(I am grating) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
(friction)
(attrition) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarta |
tarta |
tarta |
tarta |
(grated) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tartak |
(a sawmill) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'itsa |
tarts'itsa |
tarts'itsa |
(a plank, a board) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
tartSa |
(shield)
|
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
starts'e |
starts'e |
starts'e |
(an encounter)
(a clash) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
startI |
startI |
startI |
(abraded, grated)
(worn away) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
startI |
starI |
starI |
(old) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
startI |
starI |
starSI |
(older, elder) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
startI |
starI |
staZets |
(an old man) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
startI |
starI |
staZets' |
(to grow old)
(to age) |
| tr |
tre~ |
tarts'e |
tarts'e |
startI |
starI |
staros'ts' |
(an old age)
|
dsh
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| dsh |
drze |
drze |
drze |
drze |
drze |
drze |
(is tearing)
|
| dsh |
drze |
drzeć |
drzeć |
drzeć |
drzeć |
drzeć |
(to tear)
|
| dsh |
drze |
-dziera |
-dziera |
-dziera |
-dziera |
-dziera |
(is tearing)
|
| dsh |
drze |
-dziera |
dziura |
dziura |
dziura |
dziura |
(a tear, a hole)
|
| dsh |
drze |
-dziera |
darń |
darń |
darń |
darń |
(turf)
|
| dsh |
drze |
drze |
drzewo |
drzewo |
drzewo |
drzewo |
(a tree)
(wood, timber) |
| dsh |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdży |
(is raining)
|
| dsh |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdżysty |
dżdżysty |
dżdżysty |
(rainy)
|
| dsh |
dżdży |
dżdży |
dżdży |
deszcz |
deszcz |
deszcz |
(rain)
|
SAMPA transcription :
| Sequence |
Words |
|
|
|
|
|
English meaning
|
| dZ |
dZe |
dZe |
dZe |
dZe |
dZe |
dZe |
(is tearing)
|
| dZ |
dZe |
dZets' |
dZets' |
dZets' |
dZets' |
dZets' |
(to tear)
|
| dZ |
dZe |
-dz'era |
-dz'era |
-dziera |
-dz'era |
-dz'era |
(is tearing)
|
| dZ |
dZe |
-dz'era |
dz'ura |
dz'ura |
dz'ura |
dz'ura |
(a tear, a hole)
|
| dZ |
dZe |
-dz'era |
darn' |
darn' |
darn' |
darn' |
(turf)
|
| dZ |
dZe |
dZe |
dZevo |
dZevo |
dZevo |
dZevo |
(a tree)
(wood, timber) |
| dZ |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
(is raining)
|
| dZ |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZIstI |
dZdZIstI |
dZdZIstI |
(rainy)
|
| dZ |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
dZdZI |
deStS |
deStS |
deStS |
(rain)
|
Note that during the initial stages there is no trace of visual
stimulation. The adjective czarny (black) derives from
the noun czerń (blackness) which again derives from ciera
(is rubbing, is grating) - a term referring to feelings and noises,
associated with the abrasive surroundings as well as with the
obscure phenomena and the vague actions that emitted those crackling
noises. Thus the initial meaning of the word czerń (blackness)
originally referred to auditory-tactile sensations, not to visual
ones.
In older literature the term czerń was on
occasions used when referring to an anonymous crowd. A similar
meaning is preserved in ciżba (a crowd,
throng, squeeze) and in Ukrainian czereda (a
crowd), also present in Polish, so the czerń (blackness)
might have been crowded as well.
Another obsolete meaning of czerń is "earth".
The same meaning is preserved in darń (turf)
as well as in Latin terra (earth), demonstrating
a semantic transition from an auditory-tactile to a tactile-visual
definition. The English dirt also belongs in this group.
Although I have divided the rustling words into sections deriving
from tsh, tr and dsh, I believe that in reality
all those sequences derived from a single prototype that was subsequently
modified, to produce a diversity of useful variations, including
several extremely imitative ones, e.g:
trzcina [tSts'ina] (reed, cane)
szczać [StSats'] (to piss)
Some of the modifications probably emerged in result of accidental
sound changes, e.g:
trzaska [tSaska] (a splinter)
drzazga [dZazga] (a splinter)
- but others were obviously intended to convey semantic distinctions
and to make the meanings more explicit by emphasizing and exaggerating
the differences between the similar sounds. e.g:
trzeć [tSets'] (to rub, to grate, to grind)
drzeć [dZets'] (to tear)
Though this early, tongue-twisting solution was gradually abandoned
in favor of explicative compound words, and though many of the
phonic differences are faded out by now, there seems to be preserved
at least one, early, phonosemantic distinction between those noises,
dividing the produced words into two different categories.
In the first group the initial consonant cluster forms the
tre, tra, try,
tsh, etc, while in the second group the consonans
are divided by a vowel, forming tar, ter,
tyr, dyr, and so on.
Just as in the case of the self-imitative words,
the positions of vowels in the earliest onomatopoeia indicated the differences
between verbs and nouns, but the later onomatopoeic derivations do not seem
to follow this idea. Instead, it looks like the distinction was used once again,
in an attempt to separate the things that were torn (e.g. the trees) from the
things and creatures that were tearing them.
Unfortunately,
many older words may have undergone semantic reinterpretations
followed by phonic changes, so it is hard to tell whether e.g.
the Latin terra was initially perceived as "something
torn" or as "something tearing" or both. The form
suggests that it conveyed the meaning of "something tearing",
but judging from present meanings the term terra
(as well as terrain and territory)
referred to "something torn" (perhaps tattered, ploughed,
divided - activities which may be easily related to pasture and
agriculture). A similar example is the Polish dziura
(a hole, a tear), which strangely enough, is
shaped as "something tearing" not as an effect of tearing.
Perhaps the original dziura (a hole, a tear)
was a poky entrance to the jama (a cave)... or maybe
it was just another name for a cave.
It is funny to observe how the onomatopoeic elements deriving
from auditory-tactile sensations were employed to produce compounds.
e.g. młodzież (the youth) is made of
the tearing "-dzież" and the milky
ml-sequence, referring to the childlike eating
technique, while the trzymam (I am holding, I
have a hold) is composed of the tsh-friction
and mam (I have). The same, amusing observations
can be made on all Indo-European languages (I am not referring
just to the few, obvious ones, like Greek pan-ther
and try-panon or Latin mix-tura,
but e.g. all the Greek and Latin words containing the affixes
trach-, trans-, -tracio
etc. and all the Indo-European compounds incorporating imitations
of tearing noises to define animals, tools and activities).
The importance of multi-sensory experiences
Imitations of friction noises were frequently composed with self-imitative vocalizations to produce simple,
but very explicative compounds.
On many occasions, a seamless integration of elements and an ingestive order
of their composition suggest that the skills to imitate friction noises derived from
vocalized tearing actions performed by mouth.
Since similar observations can be made about other onomatopoeic expressions,
it looks to me that both the inspiration and the essential skills to produce
onomatopoeic words were acquired through vocalizing ingestive actions,
and that the early onomatopoeia have been produced by modifications
and compositions of previously existing, self-imitative vocalizations,
usually related to ingestion. Thus, I suspect, that even the ostentatiously
onomatopoeic "trsh, tsh, tr, dr"-sounds, derive from noises produced while tearing
the food with teeth.
The initial choices of particular ingestive vocalizations, to create onomatopoeic words,
seemingly depended on a harmony of sound, meaning and feeling. The early onomatopoeia did not just
imitate the sounds, but attempted to convey the tactile sensations as well. Hence, the word trawa
(grass) is produced by a combination of the tr
with the ingestive rv sequence, to convey the
meaning of "grass", and the final product sounds as it should feel to the
animal eating it.
The same harmony is evident in English grass,
Polish gryźć (to chew, to bite), English
crush, Polish kruszyć (to
crush) and several other Indo-European words that feel exactly
as they sound.
Those recordings of actions are at the same time
self-imitative and onomatopoeic, as eating, drinking, grabbing,
and tearing the food into small pieces are not soundless activities.
Voluntary or not, all of those actions produce noises which can
be perceived and interpreted by others, and since those "others"
make the same noises during the same activities, they recognize
the meanings from their own experiences. Thus the sound becomes
a vehicle for information, while ones own experiences become the
means to understand it, which in itself is enough to provide an
excellent opportunity and a potential starting point for the development
of language.
Conclusion
The list can go on and on, as there are many other imitations
of ingestive and non-ingestive sequences, and there is a myriad
derivations and combinations, that fills all of the Indo-European
dictionaries.
I will be writing about some of them in the near future, however
the purpose of this publication was just to introduce the principles
of the initial language-formation process and to demonstrate that
the self-imitative and imitative expressions are not some isolated
phenomena, but are instead the very fundament of Indo-European
vocabulary, which, in contrast to what has until now been believed,
forms an unbroken, phonosemantic continuum, deriving from simple
vocalizations.
I hope, I have made it clear, that the statements of Aristotle
and Ferdinand de Saussure about the "arbitrary nature of
linguistic signs" were wrong.
Only when the natural relationship between the sound of a word
and its meaning is terminated, the word starts a new, uncertain,
"arbitrary" existence. But that is an entirely different
story, which deserves a separate investigation, and has nothing
to do with the true gnature of words.
|
|