Wednesday, June 20, 2007

That'll learn ya

Buffy just finished reading a book that her former professor and now friend Chris Blake wrote. Along with the occasional bursts of laughter (because he's quite funny) and the frequent pauses to discuss and investigate his claims (because he's quite provocative) she also pointed out a few mistakes (because he's quite human). There were very few -- such editing oversights as giving a character two different names and giving a quote two different speakers.

Buffy is a close reader. I flinch every time she looks at my writing. She follows arguments well and she catches all inconsistencies. And she remembers from several years ago Blake enlightening his students by informing them that nauseous (causing nausea) is commonly misused when the speaker means nauseated (feeling nausea); and that comprised of is misused when the speaker means composed of.

So there on page 82 of his book Buffy found that her mentor wrote

and the human sanctuaries that comprise the church are free to wonder and probe without fear


A stumble she figured. Surely he remembers his old rule. Then on page 92:

It was a test comprised of one hundred problems


Blake is a fine writer and editor. He uses words knowingly and he expresses himself clearly. And I'm not going to say anything critical about his use of the word comprise in these sentences. When Buffy shook her head on reading them I asked her to temper her distaste. There were certainly other instances of Blake's writing that deserved a some teasing.1

I will however take issue with his lesson to the students. Perhaps he will temper the very advice he has shown he doesn't always heed.

Here's the usual argument regarding this word: To comprise means to bring together or collect. So a house comprises thousands of bricks. A mall comprises many smaller stores. And a university comprises several schools/colleges. Ergo! (those pedants like to say as much as they can in Latin) it is incorrect to say that a burrito is comprised of lettuce tomatoes beans cheese etc. It is incorrect to say that 88 keys comprise a full piano keyboard. And it is doubly incorrect to say that this nation is comprised of 48 states.

Before I address the fluidity of language I should note that the etymology of the word does go back to a meaning of collecting and gathering. And if we look carefully we find that the word merges with comprehend. According to the OED the -prise ending was probably formed by analogy with several other English words such as enterprise -- the verb derived from the formally identical noun.

To put it simply: nouns that ended in -prendre showed a pattern of becoming verbs ending in -prise. Some verbs ending in -prendre followed suit.

Now some will wail and moan and argue still that comprised of meaning made up of is a recent misunderstanding and misappropriation of the word. That it's a flat mistake: the wrong meaning. This argument will often go to such horrific worst case scenarios as "what if up starts to mean down?" They argue that words so arbitrarily linked to meanings will eventually become meaningless.

Point 1) The very fact that they know a word is being used incorrectly means that the intended meaning is clear. If I say "Two cups comprise a pint" or "I listened to a choir comprised of 32 singers" the meaning of the word is clear. Not arbitrary. We are allowed to use context.

Second point) It's not a recent trend. The OED entry includes the meaning "To constitute, make up, compose" and provides citations as early as 1794. Nine citations are included for this meaning: more quotations than are given for any other use. The passive use meaning "To be composed of, to consist of" gets four citations of its own. The earliest included is from 1874.

Meanings change. And it's mere convention that determines which meanings connect to which forms. This is not to say that those conventions don't serve a purpose. My point is simply that when the currents of language create the occasional polysemy and the occasional complete shift it is not a deterioration. It is merely evidence that language is of the people for the people and yes by the people.

And scoff as you might I'll bet you are okay with this (I now address the skeptics). Let's take a look at the history of apprise. The -prise ending is also derived (by analogy) from a form ending in -prendre. That early form of the word (from the French) had the meaning to grasp or understand. We still have that meaning preserved in the familiar form apprehend. And apprise once had the same meaning. But it went through a very reasonable shift and came to mean inform teach or enlighten.

Where's all the complaining about that shift in meaning?

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Take a look at his Union College profile page (link above) and note his use of aerobie as a mass noun. It's like he thinks it's a real sport or something. (This may be related to the aggrandizing effect of mass nouns that I've mentioned before.) Now I agree that "throwing aerobies" sounds like a juggling act. Couldn't he just say "throwing around the ol' aerobie"? Yeah. That sounds more like fun and less like a sanctioned and organized activity.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Changing RSS Feed

I changed the title of this blog a few months ago. The old title has left a trace in the form of the RSS feed address. In a few days I will update the address at FeedBurner so that http://feeds.feedburner.com/inaword will be abandoned. The new feed address will be http://feeds.feedburner.com/wishydig.

I think I also have to do a little tinkering with some of the head elements in the template. If any feed readers stop reporting updates for a while just remember that I'm still here.

Before I update the RSS feed I have to figure out a few details regarding autodiscovery and validation of a feed without revealing an e-mail address in the source code.

I'll put an alert in the left sidebar when I make the change.

Keeping up with the Joneseses

In an article about a snide memo from the Obama camp (regarding Hillary Clinton's financial interests in India) is an interesting use of the plural possessive.

The AP article explains that the memo

referred to Bill and Hillary Clintons' [sic] investments in India; her fundraising among Indian-Americans; and the former president's $300,000 in speech fees from Cisco, a company that has moved U.S. jobs to India.


So apparently the surname now has to agree in number with compounded personal names.

  • Bill Clinton

  • Hillary Clinton

  • Bill and Hillary Clintons


Benefit of the doubt disclaimer: It could be a simple cut-and-paste/editing error. It might have originally read "referred to the Clintons' involvement" and when the names "Bill and Hillary" were added they writer/editor didn't catch the change. But that's so boring an explanation that it's probably true.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Language Maven gets a strike again

William Safire's On Language column yesterday decided to pay a tiny bit of attention to language. In the midst of a rambling and uninteresting survey of the use of tier regarding presidential candidates he decided to look at the etymology of the word.

Having asked "What’s a tier, anyway, and who arranged its rendezvous with this generation of Americans?" he tries to answer his own question.

Here goes: Tier, from tire, is of Old French origin, the noun meaning “rank, order,” surfacing first in 1569, leading to the verb tirer, “to draw, drag, elongate, pull” (maybe that’s where “to pull rank” comes from).


Then he jumps to its use in ranking those who aspire to political office.

He has obviously referenced the OED for much of this information. Except for that "pull rank" conjecture. Where did that come from? Just because tier might have origins meaning both words? How do we get from tire to pull rank? Other than that, Safire's information is very close to the entry, which reads in part

tier - [Orig. tire, a. F. tire, in OF. (c1210 in Godef.) ‘suite, sequence, range, rank, order’: cf. tire à tire in succession, one after another, f. tirer to draw, elongate.]


And as he has done before the pundit mistakes the OED early entry of 1569 for the date the word surfaced. OED early entries are not to be taken as earliest known usages of a word. It's not just common sense tells us that the words were around before the citations: it's documentation. The OED entries are often just early notable and exemplary usages.

*The noun tire is found in ME meaning a row of fur (1437) or gems ("Ye Ruby suld be ye fyrst in ye secund tir of ye xij stones": Lapidary in Bodleian MS Add. A.106 a1500). And Safire's claim that the noun (which we know surfaced and even made it into print at least 100 years before 1569) led to the verb tirer is hard to understand. The very OED entry that he has mistakenly trusted to provide an earliest date, claims that tire à tire came from the verb tirer.

And the ME verb tiren (f OF tirer) that most closely matches the meaning “to draw, drag, elongate, pull” is usually found in relation to a bird of prey tugging and tearing flesh. A similar verb (of identical form) tiren is a shortened form of atiren from OF atirier meaning to outfit, furnish, equip, prepare or adorn, and has many connections to martial and ceremonial contexts. This second verb seems a likely source of modern tier meaning "A row, rank, range, course" or "A row of guns or gun-ports in a man-of-war or...in a fort." Either ME verb can be found as early as the fourteenth century. They certainly did not come from (or after) the 1569 "surfacing" of the noun.

Of course this much searching would have led Safire to make a connection with attire which certainly would have confused the surety of his findings and forced him to talk about an interesting tho unclear etymology. And Safire seems to enjoy stopping short of good (or any) scholarship, and ignoring it when he finds it.
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*ME dates and citations from the excellent Middle English Dictionary.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

When to expect what

Friday night on David Letterman Michael Moore made his case for greater access to quality health care using the usual appeals to emotion. To set up his point that change is vital he told the story of a woman who took her feverish child to a hospital. When the hospital contacted the woman's HMO they were told that the child had to be treated at another hospital across town. In the time that it took to get to the other hospital the child, whose fever was as high as 104, went into a seizure and died.

Commenting on this tragic story Moore, probably trying to propel the relevance of the story claimed "That happens more often than not."

This is a ridiculous claim if we don't put a reasonable limit on the bank of relevant incidences. Let's create two categories of incidental limitation on the phrase: absolute and defined.

Absolute incidence:
More often than not there's a game of poker going on.

This claim is applicable at all times. The only limitation might be a epochal. It may not have been the case in the past and it may not be in the future that a poker game somewhere is more commonly the state of things than a poker game nowhere; but as things are -- at any point in time the odds are favorable that someone's playing.

Some other statements that fit the type

    More often than not:
  • my house is too cold.

  • the pond is frozen over.

  • the earth is spinning on its axis.



When I was living in North Dakota I heard many weather jokes claiming jocular absolute incidental relevance as in More often than not there's snow on the ground.

Defined incidence:
More often than not I burn the toast.

It's not true that at any given time I'm likely to be burning a piece of toast. The implied defined incidental relevance is at those times that I am making toast. So when I make toast I burn it more than half the time.

When Moore told the story, Letterman responded with horror and disgusted disbelief. I can't remember if he asked How often does this happen? but let's assume that he at least indicated he wanted an answer. Moore's response, "That happens more often than not" needs to define the relevant incidences. His use of "that" is ambiguous. Is it more often than not the case that a woman is taking her acutely feverish child to a hospital, being denied treatment and directed to another hospital hence suffering a tragic loss as a result of delayed treatment? Or is it more often than not the case that when a patient seeks treatment at a hospital treatment is either denied or delayed? (We'll leave the patient outcome as an uncounted variable.)

Moore very likely was working with such an implication. And those are vital to practical communication. We don't have time to address and deny every possible reading except the intended one. Reasonable problem solving skills allow us to hear a possibly ridiculous claim and still understand the rational intent. At least half the time.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

What's in dossier's dossier?

Nancy Friedman (at Away With Words) has posted some observations about Perrier's new campaign that plays with the water's familiar logo. Comparing the ads to an older (for Napier jewelry) ad she notes that while the jewelry slogan "Napier is Snakier" was a clue to pronunciation (they obviously rhyme right?) the Perrier ads probably don't intend the same. She writes (regarding the word 'manlier' incorporated into the logo): "I'm not certain Perrier actually wants us to say man-lee-AY, but maybe we can start something."

This reminded me of the recent Gallicism topic (scroll down or click here). For the record: If people start pronouncing common words like easier, funnier hungrier manlier angrier etc with the "-eeAY" ending I'll definitely agree with Mr Urdangs "pretentious crap" claim. "Oh...this brie is a little cheesi-ay than I like. I don't usually try foreign foods but I'm feeling a little risky-ay than usual."

So I started thinking about the -ier ending on words that are likely to be pronounced in English with the Gallic "ee-ay" ending. I came up with a list of several words and started comparing all listed pronunciations in all my dictionaries. Of course the etymology of the words is relevant so I started paying attention to those too. And I found a fun little disagreement. As etymologies will often reveal. The word in question: dossier

Sources consulted: OED, Merriam-Webster, American Heritage, Webster's New World, Webster's New Twentieth Century, Funk & Wagnalls, John Ayto's Dictionary of Word Origins, Online Etymology Dictionary

All sources agree that the word is French in origin, meaning a bundle or collection of papers, and those who push it further agree that the root goes back to dos: back < Latin dorsum.

The connection to back as identified by MW AHD WNW and Ayto is that the bundle of papers was labeled on the back (probably spine?).

The OED says of the bundles: "from their bulging [they] are likened to a back."

A nice online site, the Online Etymology Dictionary, is the only source I found that claims both possibilities, saying that the connection is "supposedly" to the label on the back, but "possibly" from the resemblance to a curved back.

Will we find conclusive answer to this?

Monday, June 11, 2007

The McCain mutiny [updated]

Bill Poser at Language Log tips his hat to John McCain for his reasonable stand regarding English as the official language of the United states.

In the Republican debate (6/5/07) Wolf Blitzer posed the following invitation:

If there's someone here who doesn't believe English should be the official language of the United States please speak up right now.


In this debate McCain is the only one out of ten that takes the stance. Blitzer notes that in the Democratic debate only one of the eight candidates thought that English should be the official language.

I'm not sure how to read the chuckling at this prompt. Perhaps the candidates see it as simple baiting. Perhaps they're nervous because they know how controversial the issue is. McCain offers the following.

I think it's fine.

I would like to remind you that we made treaties with Native Americans such as the Navajos in my state, where we respect their sovereignty. And they use their native language in their deliberations. It's not a big deal. But Native Americans are important to me in my state.

Everybody knows that English has to be learned if anyone ever wants to move up the economic ladder. That is obvious. And part of our legislation by the way is a requirement to learn English.


McCain's opening line is ambiguous. What is fine? Not making English the official language? This is one of those yes/no negative 'solicitations' that can make the yes/no answer confusing. But his answer give some assurance that he sees no need to make an official statement about official languages. He seems to understand that language issues will often take care of themselves as organized cultures learn to function harmoniously.

I appreciate that Blitzer does not open the floor to the eager opposing views. Not because the debate should never be allowed--but because the debate isn't part of the topic. Nice way to stick with the interests of the premise.

Relevant comments begin around 3:30 into the video (or around -6:30 in the countdown).



[Update:
Responding to the ambiguity in McCain's opening, Bill poser writes:


Hmm, that's true. I think that I may have interpreted McCain's first sentence as meaning something like "I think things are fine as they are." but it isn't clear whether that is really what he meant.


He directed me to this site where Matt Welch disputes the claim in the Washington Post that all ten candidates "endorsed English as the nation's official language."

Welch adds


Wolf Blitzer then asked "Is there anyone else who stands with Senator McCain specifically on that question?" Later, McCain pointed out that in Arizona, "Spanish was spoken before English was."

McCain in fact has been an outspoken opponent to English-as-official-language for decades; I have in my possession letters back and forth between him and Barry Goldwater where he defends his position from the old man's strong desire to codify federally our one national tongue....

]

Saturday, June 09, 2007

You've got some Gallicism

Here's a little peek at an exchange (as hosted by the ADS-L) between me and venerated dictionary editor Laurence Urdang. Google his name and take a look at his impressive body of work.

I will present segments of this exchange with nothing other than these introductory remarks and a closing benediction. The eminent lexicographer is not to be dismissed as an ignorant blowhard -- his reasonable and clearly stated claims are evidence enough of his reason. I can only hope that I will publish as successfully as he has. He has both experience and expertise.

After Urdang establishes a complaint against spelling pronunciations and other choices in language use, the noted lexicographer writes the following:

And whence comes homage, a word borrowed and assimilated as HOM-ij or OM-ij, from 12th- or 13th-century French, made to rhyme with fromage? What pretentious crap!

These are all current in the speech of those who otherwise sound like native speakers of American English. Now that we've taught them to read, maybe we can teach them to read a dictionary once in a while so that, as Pick and Pat used to say, they can keep their ruby lips flip-flip-flappin' in the breeze reflecting more or less "standard" (or, at least, high-frequency) usage.


My response
I suppose AmE 'garage' could sound just as pretentious to some. We're surrounded by Gallicisms. Shall we bid them all adi...goodbye?


His response
It might seem unpleasant---even rude---to reject remarks like that of Mr. Covarrubias for asking if we should reject Gallicisms, but I am too old to tolerate silly nonsense. Garage is a borrowing, a loanword from French, and not a "Gallicism." Unlike the British, who, owing to generations of wars, despise the French and warp everything they say if they can (and say GAR-idge just for spite), American speakers harbor no such venom and make an honest, though often unsuccessful effort at simulating the pronunciation of the original.

Covarrubias wishes to regard language clinically, without criticism or comment, accepting what he finds, much as the oncologist never tells you that cancer is "bad," then that is his privilege. I too have a clinical hat, which I don when I need to hark back to my B.S. in English Literature and my Ph.D. in General and Comparative Linguistics (Columbia, 1958) or to my (few) years teaching English and linguistics at New York University, in the 1960s.

But I am also possessed of taste and discernment, and I know good art, especially in language, when I see it or hear it. And mispronunciations, among other errata, are not among the perpetrations I enjoy. Others might delight in them, but I, for example, have not heard any speaker of American English use the word lie correctly in the past few years" it is invariably lay (and I don't mean the past tense, either). Such errors in grammar not only interfere with the communication of ideas but they mark the speaker's education level and his lack of sensitivity to the traditional ways in which English works.

You might well say, "Bugger tradition," in which case you may go on saying, "I ain't got no money" (or whatever you're lacking), and it is unlikely that the language police will incarcerate you for using infer for imply or for rhyming homage with fromage. Also, many of your interlocutors won't even notice the difference between your speech and that of an educated speaker. But I will know and, possibly, so might a handful of others whose opinions are just as unimportant to you.

It all come down to art and to how important that is to you. The use of traditional grammar in language is akin in function to that of the appendix; but, like the appendix, when it endangers infecting the surrounding (t)issues, it must be excised.


My response

Yes I suppose the American venom towards the French...I mean the Freedom People is less vitriolic than the British. Common pronunciations provide some fine evidence: ahnvelope, ahmbiawnce, corsawge, coo-de-grah, ahnclave, homage...some borrowings have retained a semblance of their original sounds. Some had lost an original sound and have now regained it. Some have even changed to sound "more" French in a mistaken attempt to follow what we think are the rules of French pronunciation. I choose not to say much about "pseudo-French" forms because "Gallicism" covers those forms that are *from* French and those that are merely *like* French forms. Borrowed or not.

Yes "homage" is a borrowed word and there are descriptive rules for the assimilation to English pronunciation when a word was borrowed more than 700 years ago. I'm sure that some who insist on reintroducing or just using a Gallicized vowel are trying to use a prestige form. And I'm sure that some who insist on that same pronunciation think it's a recent borrowing, or at least that the pronunciation is standard. I'm not going to call shenanigans on either.

...

If I see a "cancer" threatening to destroy a language too quickly I'll judge it. I'll say it's "bad." But I'm not going to suggest that every freckle be chopped off.


I don't think he and I are in stark disagreement. We probably view a lot of usages with the same judgment regarding style. And when I hear speech that is riddled with affected prestige forms I'm likely to roll my eyes as well. Perhaps where we differ is in our view of what these forms do to the language if they become parallel standards.

I do wish he would have kept tearing into my arguments. I realize of course that my young and clinically sterile perspective is of little interest to him. He has bigger fish to spear.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Swearing like a tailor

On Buffy's current 'must-see' television show, a young dancer responded to hard-to-believe news using the exclamation "shut the front door!" For a split second I thought she was trying to stop an escape. But knowing that I'm old and uncool I've learned to reconsider my first impressions when young cool people speak. I learned this trick years ago when my students kept telling me how fat I was. Learning about the ph- spelling helped me with some deep-seated esteem issues. Those students must have thought I was so cool. I kept overhearing them in the hall saying "go ask the phat bald teacher..."

So shut the front door pretty quickly made sense as a replacement near-expletive phrase. A similar rhythm is important. Some examples:

Shut the Front Door!
Mother Father!
Bullshirt!
Cheese and Rice!
Cheesy Crust!


I'm not sure how I feel about these. Their over-eager use can carry a wink and a nudge that begs for attention. As if the speaker is demanding that's clever eh? Isn't it funny? But they really can work very well to get that release that only the right metrical foot can provide. And they can be hilarious. I remember a high school teacher threatening (teasingly) my friend Tim "I'm going to flunk you!" to which Tim responded without hesitation "Flunk me? Flunk you!" Even the teacher had to laugh.

Flip-flopping on metathesis

The structure of Wikipedia creates an interesting argument. Instead of talking about the mistakes here on this blog should I just correct them over on the Wikipedia page? What if I'm not interested in making Wikipedia more accurate? But obviously I'm interested correcting information that the site puts out there. Why else am I about to correct it here? I'll let the insignificant wrangler address the question if he wishes. Let's get to linguistics.

On the page for metathesis the wikipedants have provided several transcriptions of supposedly metathesized forms. I'll comment on a 6 of the 11.

/ˈkælvəɹi/ for cavalry
This is a fair example of metathesis. It's interesting that the metathesis is not a simple ab>ba but an asymmetrical a-bc>bc-a. This is probably because of contamination by Calvary, the other name for Golgotha (Hill of the Skull).
/ˈkʌmftɚbl̩/ for comfortable
This is another good example. It may involve both metathesis and schwa deletion. Several possible steps in several possible orders would make for decent analyses. It introduces the question of of ɚ vs ɹ̩.
/ˈɪntɚˌdus/ for introduce
I'm not sure I've heard the [-tɚ-] syllable in this word. I'm not a fan of the rhoticized [ɚ] anyway. I prefer the analysis with a syllabic [ɹ̩], but that could still be a rule applied after metathesis has occurred. This would explain the common loss of [t] after a nasal coda of a stressed syllable (as in common pronunciations of 'plenty' 'splinter'...). But the surface representation I hear most often [inʧɹədus] undergoes affrication, not metathesis.
/ˈzɹeɪl/ for Israel
I've never heard this. So I can't comment.
/ˈpɝti/ for pretty
This might be metathesis or it might just be syllabification of the [ɹ̩].
/ˈvɛtʃtɪbl̩/ for vegetable
This is not metathesis. It's not even movement. This looks like metathesis if you overlook an analysis of regressive voice assimilation ʤ>ʧ /__[t] and analyze the [t] before the [ʃ] as metathesis of the ʃt cluster. But let's compare the order of the segments.

ˈv ɛ ʤ t ɪ b l̩ -- standard form
ˈv ɛ ʧ t ɪ b l̩ -- alternate form

Not metathesis.

One more observation (this gets overly pedantic). It's more a matter of convention. The back slashes are usually reserved for phonemic (or underlying) representations (UR). For phonetic (or surface) representations (SR) the symbols would take square brackets. Elsewhere in Wikipedia's tome of information these are called broad (UR) and narrow (SR) transcriptions. I've not seen the broad/narrow terminology before. But I'm just a beginner here.

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[Update:

The comment from Buffy highlights a question about the correct spelling of rhoticize. In fact according to the OED the only spelling is rhotacize. This is confusing since the adjective is rhotic and the noun is rhoticity. The present participle listed by the OED is "rhoticizing". I'm not going to turn this into another post. I'm just acknowledging that it's mostly stubbornness that keeps me from changing the spelling I chose. Though the OED's spelling of of the ppl a does give me some support.

I'll not accept blame for the ambiguity with erotic. I think Buffy is just too eager to talk about country matters anyway.
]