Comparison Time: Warray and Tundra Nenets

For those of you who have followed this blog for a while, neither of these languages, especially the latter, require an introduction. For the benefit of new readers, I will briefly explain who each of these languages are.

The Warray language went extinct around the year 2000. During its lifetime it was spoken in the region surrounding the Adelaide River in the Northern Territory. It belonged to the Guwinyguan branch of the Arnhem language family. Further exploration of the language is available in these previous posts:

Warray/Warao Comparison and Warray Verbs

Tundra Nenets, on the other hand, is still alive, with approximately 22,000 speakers. It is spoken in Northern Siberia, roughly opposite the island of Novaya Zemlya, where the Soviets tested many of their hydrogen bombs. Tundra Nenets belongs to the Samoyedic branch of the Uralic language family, and is therefore a distant cousin of several European languages, the most well known of which are Estonian, Finnish and Hungarian. Further exploration of Tundra Nenets is available here:

TN/French and Moody Nenets and others.

Now why are we comparing these two languages, speakers of whom have probably never been aware of the existence of the other?

Well, despite the near certainty that the two have never touched, they happen to share a very interesting feature: The Subject-Object Affix.

What is a Subject-Object Affix, I hear you cry out.

Well, the Affix part is fairly simple. It refers to any combination of consonants and vowels that is attached to a word in order to add further meaning. The most well-known, and probably common forms of Affix are the Prefix, which comes at the start of a word, and the Suffix, which comes at the end.

More obscure examples include the Infix, which goes inside a word; and the Circumfix, which has parts which go at both he beginning and end of a word.

The Subject-Object part, meanwhile, refers to the fact that it tells the listener not only who did the action, but also to whom they did it.

As we will explore below, Warray makes relatively limited use of the Subject-Object Prefix, while Tundra Nenets has a substantially more developed Subject-Object Suffix system.

First, we shall explore how these features manifest themselves in Warray, followed by a focus on its counterpart in Tundra Nenets, and we shall finish with a direct sentence comparison.

(The Tundra Nenets hail from a long tradition of reindeer herders, and many continue to follow this lifestyle to the present day. This may help to explain why, despite the relatively large geographical area over which the language is spoken, dialectical differences are very few.)

Section 1: Warray

Before we discuss the Subject-Object Prefixes, we will first explore Subject and Object Prefixes in turn, which should hopefully give you a good foundation to the rest of the exploration.

Just like any other language, Warray has pronouns. However, these are not used in most simple sentences. Instead, there is a system of Subject and Object Prefixes which one attaches to the beginning of the verb. Here is a table: (Note that this is a simplified version of the table that appears in Mark Harvey’s Grammar)

In Warray, there are two semantic classes of verbs. These are the Stative, which describe states of beings, and the Active, which describe actions.

For Stative verbs, the Complete/Non-Complete distinction produces a division between the Future and Non-Future Tenses.

An example of a Stative Verb is ngantitepmal, which means to be thirsty. In the below sentences we will use the Realis conjugation of ngantitepminj.

1st Person Plural:

manmangantitepminj = We will be thirsty

mangantitepminj = We are thirsty / We were thirsty

3rd Person Singular:

ngantitepminj = He or she will be thirsty

kangantitepminj = He or she is thirsty / He or she was thirsty

In addition to the Subject Prefixes, we also have the Object Prefixes, which are much simpler.

For Active verbs, the Complete/Non-Complete Subject Pronoun Division leads to a Past/Non-Past distinction.

Here we will study the verb pemal, which means to shake, and whose Realis Conjugation is peminj.

2nd Person Singular Subject with 1st Person Plural Object:

pananpeminj = You shook me

panankapeminj = You are shaking me / You will shake me

1st Person Singular Subject with 3rd Person Plural Object:

atpunpeminj / atputpeminj = I shook them

patpunpeminj / patputpeminj = I am shaking them / I will shake them

In Warray, Subject and Object Prefixes follow a certain order, which is as follows:

1st Person Subject – Object – 2nd Person Subject – ka- – pa- – kan-

I am afraid that this is something that you will need to memorise. If anyone can come up with a trick that helps people to remember it, I would be interested to hear it.

Hopefully, this should give you a sufficient background understanding of how Subject and Object Prefixes function.

(Warray is a member of the Guwinyguan branch of the Arnhem Land Language family, which is represented in purple on the map. The white spaces represent the Pama-Nyungan languages, the grep spaces the other non-Pama-Nyungan languages, and the other colours represent the other branches of the Arnhem Land family.)

Section 2: The Warray Subject-Object Prefixes

In a limited number of circumstances, Warray offers a single prefix which encodes both the Subject and Object of the verb. These cannot be broken down into smaller components. They are as follows:

The Realis conjugation of tumtjitmal is tumtjitminj, which means to be jealous of someone.

parinjtumtjitminj = I will be jealous of you

arinjtumtjitminj = I am jealous of you / I was jealous of you

punminj is the Realis conjugation of punmal, which means to bury:

inipunminj = We buried you (all)

paninipunminj = We are burying you (all) / We will bury you (all)

Naturally, there is more to the Warray Subject-Object Prefix than what we have discussed here, though in the interests of time we will briefly end it here in order to introduce the second language under investigation.

(Two Forest Nenets women take a walk through the woods. Forest and Tundra Nenets are considered either as sister languages or dialects of the same language. Ultimately, despite the relationship between the two languages, they share low mutual intelligibility. If I find any comprehensive information on this language then we many well explore it in a later issue.)

Section 3: The Tundra Nenets Subject-Object Suffix

Before we begin, it bears pointing out that Tundra Nenets does not lack for Subject-Object Suffixes. However, for the purposes of your sanity, we will only discuss the Imperative Mood Suffixes, although most other suffix tables tend to follow the same pattern.

The Imperative Mood is used for giving commands, e.g. do this! or do that!

Here are some examples of these suffixes in action, all of which are built using the verb ləx^onako, which means to talk:

s’iqm’i ləx^onakor’ih = Talk to me, both of you!

s’id^on’ih ləx^onakoxəyudaq = Do talk to the both of us, all of you!

s’id^onaq ləx^onakon^oq = You there, talk to us!

s’iqm’i is the Tundra Nenets word for me.

s’id^on’ih and s’id^onaq both translate into English as we; the former refers specifically to two people and the latter refers to three or more people.

-r’ih is the 2nd Person Dual Subject > Singular Object Suffix, which refers to a command for two people to act on a single object.

-xəyudaq is the 2nd Person Plural Subject > Dual Object Suffix, which refers to a command for more than three people to act on two objects.

-n^oq is the 2nd Person Singular Subject > Plural Object Suffix, which refers to a command for exactly one person to do something to three or more objects.

The main thing worth noting here is that Tundra Nenets has a Singular-Dual-Plural distinction, whereas Warray possesses a Singular-Plural distinction. (There is some evidence that Warray may have once had a similarly, if not more, developed Dual distinction. However, Mark Harvey reports that many of the Warray had forgotten their original language, and thus much of the language will likely never be known.)

Now that we have explored each language individually, now it is time to compare and contrast these two languages directly.

(The Adelaide River is home to the jumping crocodile, which seem happy to jump up for the pleasure of tourist and their cameras. Let’s hope that the organisers keep them well fed.)

Section 4:

In this section, we will analyse a number of sentences, and how they are different across our two languages. I would wager that this is the first time that anyone has ever compared and contrasted these two languages, and therefore you shall see history unfold before your very eyes.

English: Carry her through the gate alone! / Carry him through the gate alone!

Warray: ngantiwulmapwuy antjim

Tundra Nenets: s’it’a n’ow^ona n’ūp’iwad^o

First of all, neither Warray nor Tundra Nenets possesses a distinct word meaning gate.

In Warray, we have antjim, which means mouth.

The Tundra Nenets word n’o means door. Interestingly, the Tundra Nenets word for mouth is the rather similar n’ah.

ngantiwulmapwuy is built from two components. The first is ngnatiwulma, which is the Imperative form of ngantiwulmal, which means to carry.

In contrast to Tundra Nenets, the Warray Imperative Prefixes are rather simple. The Object Prefixes are the same as those discussed above.

Meanwhile, if you are ordering a single person, you do not add a prefix. In you are commanding more than one person, one adds the prefix pa-.

Therefore, if I wanted to command several people to carry one person, I would instead utter pangantiwulma, and I f I wished to change who was/were being carried, the above mentioned prefix order would once again apply.

As a result, ngantiwulma takes zero suffixes, which means that it refers to a Single Subject acting on a Single Third-Person Object. Without further context, this 3rd Person Object could translate into English as he, she or it.

In contrast to Tundra Nenets, Warray actually does possess a distinction between he and she, these words being akala and alkala respectively. However, in a simple sentence such as this, it is not necessary to include them, and therefore the distinction no longer applies here.

-pwuy is the Perlative Suffix, which is used to indicate motion either along or through a place.

Now for the Tundra Nenets sentence:

s’it’a is the 3rd Person Singular Accusative, thus it means both him or her.

Attached to n’o is the Perlative Suffix -mən’a, which takes the reduced form -w^ona when it occurs after a vowel. (Note, in the publicly available grammar this is referred to as the „Prolative“ as oppose to the „Perlative“.)

n’ūp’iwad^o is formed from  n’ūp’iwa, which means to carry, and –d^o, which refers to a single person acting on a single object.

Across the world, the Perlative case is a rare feature, appearing predominantly, though not exclusively, in Australian Aboriginal languages as well as those found in the far north of America, e.g. Inuktitut and Eurasia, e.g.  Chukchi.

(A map displaying all of the languages, both past and present, spoken within the northernmost point of the Northern Territory. This is not only the most linguistically diverse part of Aboriginal Australia, possessing a greater variety of language families than the rest of the continent, but one of the most linguistically diverse places in the entire world. This is coupled with the fact that it lies not far away from Papua New Guinea, the single most linguistically diverse place in the world by far.)

In conclusion, I hope that you have enjoyed reading of a comparison between two languages whom no one would have ever thought to compare. Naturally, we have barely begun to scratch the surface of either language, and I encourage you all to explore them at your own leisure. What I rarely, if ever, mention is that almost to every resource that I use was publicly available, at least at the time when I downloaded it.

For our next exploration, I feel that it is time to return to Papua New Guinea, an island roughly twice the size of the author’s native Great Britain, but with more than 800 indigenous languages, more than any other single country on Earth.

In a previous article I discussed a particularly interesting feature of the Manambu language, in particular how the word for testicles can also mean under. There is little to no doubt that I can probably find another feature worthy of discussion. Until then,

Same Wilf-Time!

Same Wilf-Channel!

Sources:

Irina Nikolaeva, A grammar of Tundra Nenets (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter GmbH 2014)

Mark Harvey, Ngoni Waray Amungal-Yang: The Waray Language from Adelaide River (Australian National University 1986)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warray_language

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tundra_Nenets_language

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macro-Gunwinyguan_languages

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forest_Nenets_language

Google Images

Pronoun Specificity in Yindjibarndi

In our previous article, I briefly touched upon how pronouns work in the Yindjibarndi language, in particular the lack of a He/She distinction, and the distance-based specificity which replaces it. In this article, we will further expand on how the pronouns of Yindjibarndi are much more specific than their English equivalents.

Yindjibarndi is a language with approximately 400 speakers who live mostly in the region of Roebourne, Western Australia. In this region, it serves as somewhat of a lingua franca among various Aboriginal tribes, including the Ngarluma and Marduthunira nations.

In order to simplify the exploration, we will divide it into three sections: The 1st Person, the 2nd Person and the 3rd Person. There are two other important distinctions to consider.

The first of these is the Singular-Dual-Plural paradigm. The Singular refers to a single person, the Dual refers to two people specifically, and the Plural to three or more people.

The second I shall explain after it is introduced.

Section 1: The 1st Person

I’m not quite sure how to introduce this section, so I shall simply place

ngayi = I

ngaliya & ngayuwarta = The two of us

ngaliyauu & ngayintharri = We

In addition to the above, we also have ngali, which means you and I, and applies only to the Same Generation.

At this point you’re no doubt wondering whether I am the reincarnation of Bruce Forsyth because we’re now playing the Generation Game:

Same Generation refers to people who are either of the same generation or are separated by an even number of generations, e.g. a man and his siblings, a grandparent and their grandchildren, or in especially rare circumstances a great-great-grandparent and their great-great-grandchildren.

Adjacent Generation refers to people who are separated by an odd number of generations, for example a parent and their children or a great-grandparent and their great-grandchildren.

Here’s a helpful diagram which should help you figure out where someone is:

Now that I have hopefully explained everything that you need to know, let us observe some of these pronouns at work in a sentence:

ngayintharri yungkungulinha murlayi ngaartalu = Me, my great-grandmother and my father were given the meat by a man

ngayintharri is the 1st Person Adjacent Generation Plural Pronoun. At the time of writing, the author has zero children, both parents and one great-grandparent. My reason for leaving my mother out of the sentence was a stylistic one, as it was she who married into this side of the family.

yungkungulinha is a word of three parts. The first, yungku means to give.

-nguli is the Passive Mood Suffix, and -nha is the Past Tense Suffix.

murlayi is the Objective Case Inflection of murla, which means meat.

ngaartalu is the Instrumental Case Inflection of ngaarta, which means Aboriginal man. The word for aboriginal woman is wartirra.

The word for white man is watypala, which is a loan word and is derived from white fellow. Meanwhile, the word for white woman is mithi, and is a loan word from the English missie, which sounds to me like a less formal version of the English honorific Mrs.

Unlike a number of other Australian languages, Yindjibarndi does not possess Grammatical Gender.

(Burrup Rock Art dating back many thousands of years. Archaeological evidence indicates that humans have lived in the Pilbara for 30-40,000 thousand years.)

Section 2: The 2nd Person

It is only in the 1st Person that the Generation distinction applies to the plural. In the 2nd and 3rd Person, this distinction only applies to the Dual.

nyinta = You (singular)

nyintauyha & nyinkuwi = The two of you

nyintauu = All of you

Now we shall analyse a sentence:

nyintauyha yarralanyparrlmarta = You and your grandchild lack water peanuts 

nyintauyha refers to either two people who are of the same generation, or are separated by an even number of generations. From the translation chosen above, we can assume that the speaker is addressing the grandparent.

yarralanyparrlmarta is composed of two parts. The first is yarralany, which means water peanuts, and -parrlmarta is the Privative Case Suffix.

The Privative Case refers to something that is missing. In essence, it acts as the word without, though it can also be translated as the word to lack.

However, unlike a number of other Australian languages I have studied, Yindjibarndi does possess a word meaning to have. For example:

nyintauyha mirta kantyaku mayayi = You and your brother do not have a house.

In this sentence, I have changed the translation of nyintauyha in order to demonstrate the wide variety of meanings this word can have.

mirta is the Explicit Negator, i.e. not.

kantyaku is the Present Tense Conjugation of kantya, which means to have.

mayayi is the Objective Conjugation of maya, which means house.

In terms of meaning, there is little to no distinction between the Privative Suffix and the word for have. The main difference comes through in the tone of the sentence. Typically, the Privative Suffix is used to avoid making a sentence explicitly negative.

(An overview of the town of Roebourne, in the Pilbara region of Western Australia. It was previously a gold-rush town and, despite a current population of just under 1,000, was once the largest settlement between Darwin and Perth.)

Section 3: The 3rd Person

By far and away, this is the densest part of the Yindjibarndi Pronoun Paradigm, containing no fewer than 16 pronouns. As explored in the previous article, there is no He/She distinction.

In addition, all 16 of these pronoun can also mean this and that, or these and those, as well as he/she and they.

On the other hand, the many 3rd Person Pronouns of Yindjibarndi differentiate themselves based on the distance between the speaker and the one about whom they are speaking. The first two distances are as follows:

For the Far-Away Pronouns, there is a regular and augmented version. On the whole, they are interchangeable, but the latter is often used to add more emphasis, i.e. that one.

In addition, a number of these pronouns, as well as those in previous sections, also have a number of alternative forms. To keep things simple I have left these out of my analysis.

Personally, I do not count these alternative forms as separate pronouns because they do not impart separate meanings.

Now, let us dissect some sentences:

ngunhaa tyintyimama ngaarta ngayu = That man over yonder is a fat man compared to me

or

ngunhaa tyintyimama ngaarta ngayu = S/he is fatter than me

tyintyimama means obese and is constructed from tyintyi, which means animal fat, and -mama, a Suffix whose only use appears to be in this particular word.

ngaarta means man and ngayu means to me. 

In Yindjibarndi, there are two methods of forming a comparative sentence. The above method is more similar to the strategy used by English, but it is not as common as the other method, which we shall explore below.

(A satellite image taken of Cyclone Fay which hit Western Australia on the 27th of March 2004. In this snapshot, the bulk of the hurricane is currently covering the eastern-most edge of the Pilbara region.)

Here is a sentence which uses the predominantly method of comparison:

nyinkuwi ngurru; ngurnuuyha purrutha = Me and my sister are happier than the woman and her brother over yonder

or

nyinkuwi ngurru; ngurnuuyha purrutha = We are happier than them

nyinkuwi is the 1st Person Dual Same Generation Pronoun.

ngurru means happy.

ngurnuuyha is the 3rd Person Dual Far-Away Same Generation Pronoun.

purrutha means sad.

Thus, the sentence literally means something along the lines of:

nyinkuwi ngurru; ngurnuuyha purrutha = Me and my sister are happy; the woman and her brother over yonder are sad

or

nyinkuwi ngurru; ngurnuuyha purrutha = We are happy; they are sad

This construction is referred to as the „Bipolar Comparative“, and it is always phrased in positive terms. Basically, this means that you cannot make a sentence which means that a sentence such as

They are not as happy as us 

simply cannot be translated directly into Yindjibarndi. Comparative sentences are always constructed in positive terms.

Returning to the main theme of this blog post, it is worth noting that while the Generation Distinction only applies to the pronouns, the Number Distinction also applies to regular nouns.

As we will explore below, regular nouns follow a number of rules concerning how they encode for Dual and Plural Number.

(A photo taken from Karijini National Park, one of the Pilbara region’s many national parks. According to the Wangka Maya Pilbara Aboriginal Language Centre, the name Pilbara comes from bilybara, which means dry in the Nyamal and Banyjama languages.)

Section 4: Further Notes on Duality and Plurality

As in most languages that distinguish number on nouns, the singular form remains unmarked. (Should I find a language wherein the singular form receives special marking, I will likely make a post about it, or at least featuring it.)

In order to turn a singular into a dual noun, one simply adds the Suffix –kuyha. A few examples:

mangkurla = a child

mangkurlakuyha = two children

or

tyurtu = a native flower

tyurtukuyha = two native flowers

The more eagle-eyed among you may have noticed that many of the 2nd and 3rd Person Dual Same Generation also end in either -kuyha or -uyha.

Though I do not know the full story as to how Yindjibarndi came to have its current pronoun paradigm, I would imagine that it they do share a common origin with the Dual Noun Suffix.

Now we move on to the Plural Suffix, which is somewhat more complex.

First, there are two regular Plural Suffixes. The first that is -ngarli, which is used with Common Nouns. For our purposes here, there are two types of noun in Yindjibarndi, Common and Proper.

Common is by far the largest category of nouns, containing as it does the great majority thereof. Examples include:

manthu = a termite

manthungarli = three or more termites

or

partuwarlaa = a bird

partuwarlaangarli = three or more birds

partuwarlaa is a word composed of two parts. The first, partu, which refers to a non-emu feather, and -warlaa comes from -karlaa, which is the Proprietive Case Suffix.

The Proprietive Case is the direct opposite of the Privative Case discussed earlier. Thus, it refers to having or possessing something. As a result, the literal translation:

partuwarlaa = having non-emu feathers 

or

partuwarla = a thing that has feathers but isn’t an emu

(An emu running along the street in Western Australia. The Yindjibarndi word for emu is tyarnkurna, a word whose other meaning we shall explore later.)

The second regular Plural Suffix is -pathaa, which is used with Proper Nouns. These refer to names (excluding nicknames), dogs, many place names (with the specific exception of rivers), a number of ordinary words and emu-people.

Emu-people are a discussion for another time, but all you need to know for now is that they are recurring characters in a number of Yindjibarndi myths and legends.

That being said, let’s move on to a few examples:

ngarlu = a flagon of wine

ngarlupathaa = three or more flagons of wine

or

Ngayhalyu = a greedy Marduthunira monster with a tail

Ngayhalyupathaa = three or more Marduthunira monsters with a tail

The Suffix -pathaa can also be attached to Common Nouns, where it serves a different grammatical function, though to explain this would take far too long. Perhaps in another post.

Earlier I mentioned that there are a number of irregular Plural Suffix which typically attach to only one or two nouns. Here are two examples that you may recognise from earlier:

tyurtu = a native flower

tyurtypirri = three or more native flowers

or

mangkurla = a child

mangkurlarra = three or more children

The first of these two irregular Plural Suffixes, -pirri, also has another meaning, which is the Diminutive -ish. This is also a variant of -pirti, whose other variants include -wirti and -wirri, all of which are Plural Suffixes that occur with limited numbers of words.

(The 4 Skin Groups of Yindjibarndi. This painting is by Sherrie Jones, an Aboriginal Artist.)

In conclusion, I hope that this was an interesting introduction into the Yindjibarndi language of Western Australia. While the idea of pronouns which encode for the generational gap between the people involved may seem quite weird, this is not the only language in Australia which does this.

However, of all the languages I have studied, this is the only language that takes the Generation distinction to this extent. Should I find one that takes it further, I shall be sure to let you know.

In our next article, we will take a trip to the Amazon jungle, and meet up with our old friend the Jarawara language. While we have visited this language twice before, it is yet to take centre-stage in its own article, and I feel that it has more than enough moves to earn a place in the spotlight.

I look forward to seeing you in the jungle. Watch out for piranhas, and until then,

Same Wilf-time!

Same Wilf-channel!

Sources:

F. J. F. Wordick, The Yindjibarndi Language (Canberra: Australian National University 1982)

Google Images

https://www.artsceduna.com.au/product/4-skin-groups-of-yindjibarndi/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roebourne,_Western_Australia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilbara

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karijini_National_Park

Comparison: Warao vs. Warray

In the first of what will hopefully become a semi-regular series, I will compare two languages who share nothing more than confusingly similar names. By this, I mean that the names of the languages will differ by rarely more than three letters.

In alphabetical order, our first language is Warao, a language isolate spoken by around 33,000 in the Orinoco Delta of north-eastern Venezuela, alongside smaller communities in the nearby countries of Trinidad and Tobago, Guyana and Suriname. (If you would like a more concise introduction for the Warao language, feel free to watch the video in the source link. It was this same video that initially introduced me to the language.)

Currently, Warao has no known linguistic relatives, with one possible exception, this being the Timucua language. Aside from any grammatical features, the main problem with any link between these two is that Timucua was spoken in northern Florida, which no further sister languages in between, whether via land or across the Gulf of Mexico.

Furthermore, the language went extinct during the second half of the 18th century. Despite this, there is a wealth of information on the language, most of which comes from the work of Franciscan Missionary Francisco Pareja.

(The area wherein Warao is spoken.)

Warray was an Arnhem-language spoken in and around the Adelaide river in the Northern Territory of Australia. It went extinct somewhere around the turn of the 20th century.

In the language grammar I used, the language name is spelt Waray. I chose the above spelling with two /r/’s in order to make the two languages more distinct.

In addition, my original plan was to compare Warao to the Waray language of the Philippines. This changed after I found the Warray grammar which I reference in the source list. In truth, I had been unaware of the language’s (former) existence.

Also, by establishing this spelling convention at the earliest possible time, I allow myself more freedom to one day compare Waray and Warray.

For full disclosure, I may have been hasty in choosing this comparison, in the sense that I could have done further research before committing myself to this topic. Nevertheless, I have committed myself to this endeavour, and will persevere.

(The Warray language belongs to the Guwinyguan branch of the Arnhem language family, which is shaded in purple in the above diagram. Grey indicates other Non-Pama-Nyungan languages, white indicates the Pama-Nyungan language family, while the other colours refer to other branches of the Arnhem family.)

Sentence 1.

English: A snake bit me

Warao: ma huba abuae / huba mabuae

Warray: tjun panpe

ma is the 1st Person Object Pronoun, which translates as me. It can occur as both an Independent Pronoun, and also as the prefix m- or ma-, the form which it takes in the second version of the sentence.

huba means snake. Based on what information I could find, there seems to be only one word for snake in Warao. This is not the case in Warray, as we shall explore.

abuae means bit. To build this short word, we start with the root verb abu, which means to bite.

Our first Suffix, -a, is defined as the Punctual Aspect, which defines the event as one that took place in a single instant. This aspect is typically defined as a Semelfactive, or an aspect that relays the flow of time in the form of a verb stem.

Our second suffix, -e, is simply the Past Tense Suffix.

A literal translation:

ma huba abuae / huba abuae = me snake bit / snake me.bit

(A traditional open-sided Warao hut on stilts. The Warao were one of the tribes encountered by the explorer Alonso de Ojeda, who travelled with (in)famous explorer Christopher Columbus. Upon seeing structures similar to those pictured above, he named the village and the surrounding area Little Venice or, Venezuela, in his native Spanish. This is, as far as can be told, the origin for the name of the modern country.)

Despite how different these two sentences look at a superficial level, structurally they share a number of similarities. Let us explore.

tjun means Children’s Python, though there does exist a generic word for snake, which is pelam.

panpeminj is a a four-part word which, taken together, translates to bit.me. 

We begin with the verb root pe, which means to bite, to which we add a single prefix.

This prefix is pan-, which is the First Person Singular Object Prefix, which translates to me. As far as I can discern, Warray does not seem to possess any independent Object Pronouns.

In Warray,  there are 8 separate regular verb conjugations, not all of them we will be able to discuss in this article. The verb pe belongs to the simplest of these conjugations, in that it takes the fewest suffixes. It is also an Active verb, as oppose to a Stative verb, a distinction whose importance we shall discuss shortly.

Unlike most Warray verbs, the Realis conjugation for pe is the same as the infinitive. By this, it does not take any suffixes for the Realis Mood.

The Realis Mood is used to indicate that the sentence is a statement of fact. This mood exists in English, where does not require any particular marking (i.e. a normal sentence).

However, to fully explain this sentence, I must draw your attention to a prefix that does not exist, namely the 3rd Person Singular Complete Subject.

Although Warray does possess independent Subject Pronouns, these are not mandatory in every sentence due to the presence of the Subject Prefixes, which precede the Object Prefixes whenever they occur.

For each person, there are three categories of Subject Prefix, the Complete, the Non-Complete and the Potential (though we will only explore the first two.)

One thing that Warray lacks, as far as I can see, are regular Tense markers. It is for this reason that the Subject Prefixes come into their own.

In an Active verb, the choice between a Complete or a Non-Complete distinction is equal to a Past/Non-Past distinction. Because we are using the Complete Suffix, the sentence takes place in the Past.

If we were to replace this with the Non-Complete Suffix, -ka, then the sentence takes place in either the Present or the Future. For example:

tjun pankape = the Children‘ Python bites me / the Children’s Python will bite me

A word-for-word translation:

tjun panpe = Children’s-Python me-bit 

As is the case in Warao, the Warray pronoun is prefixed to the verb. However, the difference here is that in Warao, this prefixation is optional, whereas Warray provides no alternative.

(Antaresia childreni, also known as the Children’s Python. Although it is named after British Zoologist John George Children, it is arguably one of the most appropriate snakes to buy as a pet for one’s children. It does not produce venom and is, in terms of diet, relatively undemanding compared to other species.)

Sentence 2.

English: I run through the forest / I will run through the forest

Warao: inabeya ine hayate / inabeya hayateine

Warray: marelik patliliminjpwuy

In this example, we will see a greater convergence between the grammars of these two languages. Let us begin, as before, with the Warao sentence.

inabeya is the Allative Case Declension of inabe, which means forest. 

The Allative Case Suffix, -ya, in Warao is used to indicate movement either towards or through a place.

ine is the 1st Person Singular Subject, or I.

hayate is the Non-Past Tense inflection of haya, which means to run.

-te is the Non-Past Tense Suffix, which means that it can indicate either the Present or Future Tense.

-ine, which appears in the second Warao sentence above, is the 1st Person Singular Subject Suffix.

In Warao, a Subject Pronoun can take the form of either a Suffix or an Independent Word, though you can’t have both in the same sentence together.

Furthermore, you may have noticed across both sentences that the Word Order in Warao seems to be Object-Subject-Verb (at least when all three occur as independent words). This is no stylistic choice, as Warao possess the least common (default) word order in the world, behind only Object-Verb-Subject. Between them, these two word orders comprise approximately 1% of the world’s languages.

(Two Warao men engaged in building a traditional canoe. The name Warao itself even means „boat people“ after their deep connection with the water.)

marelik is the Locative Case Declension of mare, which means forest or jungle.

The Locative Case, as the name suggests, indicates location.

patliliminjpwuy is a word with much to unpack.

First, we start with lili-m-inj, which is the Realis Conjugation of lili-m-al, which means to run. It is accompanied by one prefix and one suffix.

pat- is the 1st Person Singular Non-Complete Subject Prefix. In the presence of an Active Verb, it refers to the Non-Past Tense, i.e. it can refer to either the Present or Future Tense.

-pwuy, meanwhile is the Perlative Case Suffix, which only attaches to verbs.

The Perlative Case refers to movement along, through or across the noun to which it is attached. Because this suffix is attached instead to the verb, the noun therefore requires the Locative Case Suffix.

The Perlative is among the rarest of cases. It only appears in a number of Australian languages, Inuktitut and the Aymara language of South America. It was also present in the now extinct Tocharian Branch of the Indo-European family.

(A stretch along the Adelaide River, highlighting the tenor of forest through which the Warray would run. It bears pointing out that Warray is not a language of the Outback.)

Sentence 3.

English: We have three sisters 

Warao: rakoi dihanamo (oko) ha

Warray: alwulkan kerangantjerinj palikakangi

In Warao, the hand signal for the number 3 involves the forefinger, middle finger and ring finger. This is because, according the grammar, the „group of fingers that gets together with ease“, and thus does not experience the „natural resistance to cluster observed in the distal units: the thumb and the forefinger“.

I felt it was of crucial importance that you know the Warao hand gesture for this particular number.

The Warao word for three is dihanamo.

rakoi means sister in the Singular. Due to the presence of dihanamo, it does not take the Plural Suffix -tuma, which it would if there were an indeterminate number of sisters.

oko is the 1st Person Plural Pronoun, i.e. we. It is included in brackets since it is not always mandatory to include, e.g. if it comes after a question.

In Warao, there are only two grammatical numbers, the Singular and the Plural.

ha, meanwhile, is the Copula. It is used to link between the subject of a sentence and a complement, e.g. an adjective. The equivalent in English would be the word is.

(The Warao people and their boats in action.)

alwulkan means sister, and is the Feminine Declension of wulkan, which means sibling.

The Warray language has two Human Class markers, Masculine and Feminine, and only occur on nouns that refer to humans. The word for brother is awulkan.

kerangantjerinj means three.

palikakangi is composed of three components.

kangi is the Realis Conjugation of kangi, which means to take, though here it means to have, and is preceded by two prefixes.

The first of these prefixes is pali-, which is the 1st Person Plural Non-Complete Subject Prefix, a close approximant to the English we.

It is worth noting that Warray Subject Pronouns also exist as independent words, though they are only used under other conditions.

Warray, like Warao, also has a distinction between the Singular and the Plural. In addition, it also distinguishes the 1st Person Dual Inclusive, i.e. the speaker and the listener. However, this is the only instance of either the Dual Number or the Inclusive/Exclusive Dichotomy within the Subject Prefixes.

The second prefix ka-, is merely a Reduplication of the first syllable of kangi. The function of reduplication in Warray is a complex one, made even more complicated by Language Death, a phenomenon in its own right.

(A Jumping Crocodile in Adelaide River. In Warray, anmaymak:u means freshwater crocodile and apulangu means saltwater crocodile.)

In conclusion, I hope that this was an interesting introduction to and comparison between two languages with confusingly similar names, otherwise separated by thousands of mile of ocean and, sadly, the mortal coil. If either of these languages fascinated you, I more than encourage you to do your own further research.

As mentioned earlier, this format of comparing languages whose names only differ by a single letter or two is one to which I plan to return in the future, though it won’t become too regular a feature.

Naturally, I do intend to delve into further detail on both of these languages, though time will tell how this will be done.

In our next installment, we will discuss pronouns in the Unua language of Malekula Island, Vanuatu, and how they are more specific than their English counterparts. Until then,

Same Wilf-time!

Same Wilf-channel!

Sources:

Andrés Romero-Figeroa, A Reference Grammar of Warao, (München: LINCOM GmbH 2003) 2nd printing

Mark Harvey, Ngoni Waray Amungal-Yang: The Waray Language from North Adelaide River (Australia: Australian National University 1986)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warray_language

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warao_language

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semelfactive

http://www.whatsnakeisthat.com.au/category/region/nt/north-nt/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Children%27s_python

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macro-Gunwinyguan_languages

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warao_people

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perlative_case

Diyari: The Past Tense in a Passed Language

In previous articles, we have touched very lightly on the idea that, in a number of languages, one can differentiate between different eras of the past through grammar alone.

In this article, we will explore this concept through the Australian language Diyari, which became extinct in the late 20th century. This language contains 6 forms of the past tense, only one of which does not encode the time period wherein the event took place, though we will only discuss those 5 that do.

These 5 use various Auxiliary Verbs to differentiate between the Past Tenses.

In English there are two, have/has and did. As a rule of thumb, the latter refers to a situation that may have since been undone or reversed, whereas the former refers to a case where the action has not.

In Diyari, there are no direct equivalents to either of these verbs. The verb to have exists as ngamalka, which is the Transitive Conjugation of ngama, which means to sit.

The verb to do, meanwhile, can be translated as nganka. However, this can also mean to make, to work, beard or as the Causative Suffix, among other things.

Naturally, we shall start in the present, and work our way backwards.

1. The Immediate Past: wara

The Immediate Past covers all events that have occurred since sunrise on the day that the person makes their speech utterance. For example:

nganhi wanthirna warayi paya pirnanhi

I have searched for the aeroplane

nganhi is the 1st Person Nominative Singular, which refers exclusively to an Intransitive Subject, one which does not take an object.

wanthirna is the participle form of wanthi, which means to search.

Through the course of this article we will become very familiar with the Participle -rna, which, for our purposes here, is a very approximate equivalent to the English Past Tense Suffix -ed. With one exception, all of the main verbs take this suffix in the presence of a Past Tense auxiliary.

warayi is the Auxiliary Verb for the Immediate Past Tense, and is composed of wara, which means to throw, while -yi is the Present Tense Suffix, which is required for full conjugation.

paya pirnanhi is the Locative Declension of paya pirna, which means aeroplane. Word for word, however, paya means bird, and pirna means big.

Thus, paya pirna can also translate to Big Bird, one of the Internet’s favourite residents of Sesame Street, as shown by the memes.

The Locative Case, expressed via the suffix -nhi, refers to place where a person or object is located. Pronouns, however, typically have their own Locative forms that do not require this suffix.

If one wished to translate the Diyari sentence literally, but keep it as a coherent English sentence,  we end up with something approximating this:

I threw a search for the big bird. 

Typically, searches are carried out, while it is parties that are thrown. Other than that, if we replaced big bird with aeroplane, then we wind up with the original sentence, but with greater stilisation.

(This was the first result provided by Google Images for the search term „big bird meme“. What you do with this information is at your digression.)

2. The Yesterday Past: wirri

The Yesterday Past covers those events which took place between sunrise on the day of the speech utterance, and sunrise of the previous day. For example:

wilhali kira ngapuli waralha wirriyi

The woman silently threw the boomerang yesterday

wilhali is the Ergative Case Declension of wilha, which means woman. The Ergative Case refers exclusively to the Agent of a Transitive Verb, which requires an object upon which to act.

kira means boomerang, and is here in the Accusative Case, which refers to the Object of a Transitive Verb.

ngapuli is the Ergative inflection of ngapu, which means silent/quiet. The Ergative inflection is added on to show that it applies to the woman doing the throwing, as oppose to the boomerang itself.

Also, here we have an interesting coincidence. In English, most adjectives will take the suffix -ly in order to become adverbs. In Diyari, we also see an adjective taking the suffix -li in a situation where it behaves as an adverb.

Because the Ergative Case does not exist in English, nor separate adverb forms in Diyari, we cannot place the cause for this unusual convergence at the feet of language contact.

waralha is the Future Tense Conjugation of wara, which means to throw. In the presence of the auxiliary verb wirri, the main verb takes the Future Tense Suffix -lha, as oppose to the Participle Suffix -rna, taken in the presence of the other Past Tense auxiliary verbs.

There is probably an interesting explanation for this on a language-evolution level, but for now we will accept this exception.

Last, but by no means least (indeed the reverse), we have wirriyi, which is the Present Tense Conjugation of wirri, which means to enter.

In addition, the Diyari word for yesterday is waldrawirti. This is optional when using the Yesterday Past, but the Yesterday Past is mandatory when waldrawirti appears in a sentence (usually at the very start).

Our semi-literal translation:

The woman entered to throw the boomerang silently

If we were to change the word entered to elected, we would have an entirely valid English sentence. For those unaware, one can say that they elected to do something as a way of saying that one chose to do it, as old-fashioned as it may sound.

(A boomerang exhibit from the South Australian Museum. Weirdly enough, this may be the first blog post about an Australian language that mentions this most quintessential of Australian symbols.)

3. The Recent Past: parra

The Recent Past is used to indicate events that take place up to one or two weeks prior to the moment of speech. For example:

Ngakarni kardi punganhi wata wirrirna parraya

My brother-in-law did not go into the hut (last week)

Ngakarni is the 1st Person Singular Dative, which means something along the lines of to me.  In Diyari, these also function along the same lines as the English Possessive Pronouns.

kardi means brother-in-law, or sister’s husband to be exact. Interestingly, there is no distinction in Diyari between the words for husband and wife, both of which are nhuwa, which we can translate as spouse.

This being said, there are circumstances where the difference can be parsed out.

For example, the husband’s brother-in-law is nhuwaya kardi, where as the wife’s brother-in-law is nhuwanhangka kardi.

punganhi is the Locative Case Declension of punga, which means hut. Taken together, the whole word means into the hut.

In Diyari, there is a significant degree of overlap between the Locative Case and the Allative Case, which typically references motion towards an object. Though these sound somewhat similar, the main distinction lies in the fact that the Locative specifies that one has either gone INTO or landed ATOP the location in question, while the Allative (often referred to as the Directional) refers only to movement TOWARDS the location in question.

wata simply means not.  There’s nothing else to say here.

wirrirna is the Participle form of wirri, which means to enter. Depending on context, however, it can also mean to be painted and to wear clothing. When combined with the word dityi, meaning sun, it can also mean sunset or west.

parraya is the Past Tense Conjugation of parra, which means to lie down, though it typically refers to inanimate objects, e.g. stones, water and dust. parra is one of two verbs that take the Past Tense Suffix -ya when used as an Auxiliary.

Our semi-literal translation:

My brother-in-law lay down not entering the hut.

This sentence differs from the Diyari in that, by including the Auxiliary Verb, we have given something of an explanation as to why the brother-in-law did not enter the hut.

(In the Kurdish language, the word Dîyarî means gift, present, or souvenir. This is a picture of a coffee house in Gaziantep, Turkey.)

4. The Intermediate Past: wapa

The Intermediate Past is to delineate those events that took place between one or two months preceding the present. For example:

thalara mardawurlu parrarna wapaya mitha muyanhi

A month ago the two rain-making stones were lying on the dry ground.

thalara mardawurlu is a compound noun meaning two rain-making stones. This compound consists of three components. thalara means rain, though it only refers to the noun. The verb for to rain is kurda.

marda means stone, and -wurlu is the Dual Suffix, which refers to the fact that there are only 2 stones. If there were three or more stones, we would use the Plural Suffix -wara.

parrarna is the Participle form of parra, which means to lie, though it only refers to inanimate objects. As a noun, it means hair, and as a Suffix it means there, referring something to a medium distance away. There is also the adjective parraparra, which means hard or energetic.

wapaya is the Past Tense Inflection of wapa, which means to go.  This is the second of the two Auxiliaries which use -ya as oppose to -yi.

mitha is the word meaning ground, though it can also mean country or land more generally.

muyanhi, meanwhile, is the Locative Declension of muya, which means dry.

Our word-for-word translation:

The two rain-making stones went lying on the dry ground

Again, we have a sentence that doesn’t really work, though it was the closest that I could get.

(Lake Eyre, also known as Kati Thanda. It lies at the western-most edge of the traditional Diyari territory. At full volume, the lake is as salty as the sea, though for much of the year it dries up, and thus becomes a large salt-plain.

Ownership of the lake, meanwhile, is claimed by the Arabana people, from whom the Aboriginal name originates.)

5. The Distant Past: wanthi

As you can assume, the Distant Past refers to any event that occurs at any point further back in time than any of the previous four. For example:

kupulayitya waparna wanthiyi kilankilaya

The drunkard approached the galah

kupulayitya means drunkard or alcoholic. It is a combination of the words kupula, which means alcohol, and the Habitual Association Suffix -yitya, which roughly translates to the English Suffix -er, or, to be more specific, the „animate being habitually associated with“.

waparna is the Participal form of wapa, which means to go, though in this grammatical context it can also mean to approach.

wanthiyi is the Present Tense Conjugation of wanthi, which means to search for.

kilankilaya is the Allative Case Declension of kilankila, which means galah, which is a variety of bird. The Allative Case is used to indicate movement towards an object or location.

The Allative Case Suffix, as you may have noticed, is identical to the Past Tense Suffix -ya, though in some cases it is identical to the Locative Case Suffix -nhi. Furthermore, in other contexts it is identical to the Locative or Dative Cases.

Typically, Diyari tends towards a verb-final word order, though words that end in the Allative, Locative and other Case Suffixes usually go at the end of the sentence.

Our semi-literal translation:

The alcoholic searched to go to the galah

Here, I have used go to the galah as a translation for waparna kilankilaya, since it is indeed the more literal translation. Personally I prefer to use the term approach.

Although this sentence is highly unlikely to ever pass a native speaker’s lips, stylistically it implies that the drunkard only attempted the action.

(The Galah, Eolophus roseicapilla, which is found in almost every area of mainland Australia. This name is derived from gilaa, which comes from the Gilmaraay language, one of those native to the area surrounding Sydney.)

In conclusion, I hope that this was a fascinating introduction into this facet of linguistics. On the whole, I do not think that it this feature is particularly common across languages (though I may be wrong in this), though I imagine that Conlangers could really take this idea to new places, assuming they have not already done so.

Also, the eagle-eyed among you may have noticed that the main verb in each sentence was the previous auxiliary verb (take another look if you don’t believe me.)

Our next article will be another exercise in comparative linguistics. It will concern two languages, each from a different continent, but with names whose similarity approaches that of two identical twins. Until then,

Same Wilf-time!

Same Wilf-channel!

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Eyre

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diyari

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galah

Austin, Peter K. A Grammar of Diyari, South Australia (1981)

Google Images

Diyari: A language of Southern Australia (part 1)

If you wish to ever speak with a native speaker of the language we are about to discuss, then sadly your luck is over. As far as I can tell, this language is either extinct (i.e. no native speakers) or moribund (native speakers still live but the language is no longer spoken).

However, the aim of this post is not to debate whether this language still lives, but to dissect some of its features.

1. Morphosyntactic Alignment

This is one of the most difficult concepts I have ever taken upon myself to explain.

We shall start this discussion with a nice diagram.

Here, you will see that I did not provide any example sentences for the Tripartite Alignment section. This is because English, a language with Nominative-Accusative Alignment, simply does not possess the right words.

In a Nominative-Accusative Alignment, the subject of an intransitive verb behaves like the agent of a transitive verb, while the patient of a transitive verb is marked separately.

In an Absolutive-Ergative Alignment, the subject of an intransitive verb behaves like the patient of a transitive verb, while the agent of a transitive verb is marked separately. This feature is present in around 25% of world languages, though there are few to zero languages with fully ergative grammar.

In a Tripartite Alignment, each argument is marked separately. This is a very rare, and it is possible that one’s fingers are sufficient for the task of counting all the languages with this feature. Despite this, this is a comparatively common feature in conlangs, Na’vi (the fictional language of James Cameron’s Avatar) most famous among them.

The Diyari language contains all three alignments.

Nominative-Accusative:

In English, these pronouns are we and you (pl).

In Diyari, however, there are six.

The duals:

ngaldra = 1st person dual inclusive (the two of us, including you, the listener)

ngali = 1st person dual exclusive (the two of us, not including you, the listener)

yula = 2nd person dual (the two of you)

The plurals:

ngayani = 1st person plural inclusive (us, including you)

ngayana = 1st person plural exclusive (us, not including you)

yura = 2nd person plural (all of you)

Ergative-Absolutive:

The term „common nouns“ simply refers to nouns that are not personal, or proper, names. For example, my name Wilfred, is a male proper noun, while language is a common noun.

Tripartite:

The Ergative forms of these pronouns are:

ngathu = 1st person singular (I)

yundru = 2nd person singular (you)

nhandru = 3rd person singular feminine (she)

nhulu = 3rd person singular non-feminine (he)

pulali = 3rd person dual (the two of them)

thanali = 3rd person plural (they)

(The Fleurieu Peninsula.)

2. Morphosyntactic Alignment Explored

Now, you’re probably wondering why male names fall under the Ergative alignment while female names fall under the Tripartite alignment, and there is an interesting reason as to why this is the case.

Unlike in the West, where names are more or less shared with the occasional slight alteration, in Diyari culture, all individuals must have a unique name, and no two Diyari are allowed to share a name.

As a result of this, I can assume that it is more difficult for a Diyari to discern whether a name is male or female. For example, if an English name ends with an a, then it’s (almost) always female, e.g Nicola or Theresa. (Also, if anyone can think of a native English men’s name that ends with an a, then please let me know because I can’t think of any.)

In addition, these grammatical rules affect non-Diyari and Diyari names equally.

For example, let’s compare some sentences from darker versions of a certain Shakespeare play:

 Juliandru Romeonha nandrayi = Julia hits Romeo

To break it down, Juliandru is derived from the  name Julia and the ergative suffix             –ndru (which is used for female names). Because she is the one performing the action, she takes the ergative case.

The second Romeonha, comes from the name Romeo with the absolutive suffix –nha (which is used with male names). Because he is the one receiving the action, he takes the absolutive case.

Our last part is nandrayi, which comes from nandra, meaning to hit, and the suffix -yi, which indicates the present tense.

Furthermore, although the typical Diyari sentence word order is Subject-Object-Verb, as seen in the above sentence, due to the flexibility offered by the grammar, you can rearrange each word in any way you wish, thus allowing 6 possible grammatically correct versions of the sentence (though a native speaker is most likely to use the one above).

Also, I would like to point out that Juliandru sounds very similar to the name of the actress Julie Andrews. I can confirm that this was a happy accident, though you are more than free to dispute that.

Now let us consider the reverse sentence:

Romeoli Julianha nandrayi = Romeo hits Julia

The first part, Romeoli, comes from the name Romeo with the ergative suffix -li. Because he is now the one performing the action, he takes the ergative case.

Secondly, we have the word Julianha, which is a combination of the name Julia along side the accusative suffix -nha. (Yes, this is the same as the male name absolutive suffix). Because she is now the one receiving the action, she takes the accusative case.

nandrayi is, naturally, the same as before.

Also, in case you were wondering, the nh in Julianha is pronounced like a normal n, except in that the tip of the tongue is placed between the teeth.

Feel free to try this at home in order to test the difference. Make sure you leave enough time for someone to walk in on you doing this without you noticing, and wonder what is wrong with you. (As this is going to happen anyway, you may as well embrace it).

(Lake Albert, located on the Murray River.)

3. Final Section

For the last section of this entry, I though it might be fun to translate the title of this blog into Diyari, i.e:

Yawarrawara Wilfli 

The first word has two parts:

The first yawarra means language.

The second, –wara, is the plural marker. If this was a blog that only talked about two languages, then we would replace it with the dual marker –wurlu. 

The first second has two parts also, the first being my name, Wilf.

The second part is the ergative suffix marker -li, which we discussed earlier.

In contrast to English, Diyari does not possess a word that translates as with, and after scouring the grammar, I came to the conclusion that this function is fulfilled instead by the Ergative case.

This is not the only instance wherein the Ergative engages in linguistic heavy lifting, i.e. fulfilling several functions, but for the sake of brevity and focus I shall not discuss them here.

In conclusion, I hope that this was an interesting insight into a language that may no longer have any speakers.

Next week, we shall take some sentences apart to gain further insight into how this language works. Until then:

Same Wilf-time!

Same Wilf-Channel!

Sources:

Google Images

Microsoft Paint

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diyari_language

Austin, Peter K. (1981). A grammar of Diyari, South Australia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Australia

Directions and going places: Welsh v. Dyirbal (part 1)

Today is a very special day in linguistics. To the best of my knowledge (and I will more than happily be corrected), this is the first publication wherein someone has set out to compare and contrast the Welsh language of the British Isles and the Dyirbal language of Australia, whose only similarity lies in their status as minority languages in English-speaking countries.

In any case, here are (some of) the Dyirbal locational markers. They attach to the end of either verbs or nouns:

Here is my Welsh translation thereof:

Those of you who have also read my 6 English words that don’t exist in other languages post will know already that Welsh lacks words meaning either uphill or downhill. Instead, we have the phrases i fyny’r bryn and i lawr y bryn, which translate directly into to the top of the hill and to the floor of the hill respectively.

The words bach and mawr mean small and big respectively. This gives us these translations:

-bayji = i lawr y bryn bach = to the bottom of the small hill (to floor the hill small)

-bayja = i lawr y bryn = to the bottom of the hill (to floor the hill)

-bayju = i lawr y bryn mawr = to the bottom of the big hill (to floor the hill big)

-dayi = i fyny’r bryn bach = to the top of the small hill (to top the hill small)

-daya = i fyny’r bryn = to the top of the hill (to top the hill)

-dayu = i fyny’r bryn mawr = to the top of the big hill (to top the hill big)

I am aware that these are not perfect translations, but were the best that I could muster.

On the other hand, it could be argued that the hill begins from the reference point of the person, as oppose to the physical location of the hill itself.; i.e. if you travel all the way down a large hill, you would use the term -bayju, whereas someone who is only partway up the same hill would use either -bayja or -bayji.

Another potential for ambiguity is what constitutes a short, medium or long distance either up- or downhill, since this can vary from person to person.

Furthermore these forms are not particular to hills.

It can also apply to trees:

(You may be wondering why bach and mawr have become fach and fawr respectively. This is because coeden, tree, is a feminine noun. Upon contact with the definite article, the c takes the soft mutation (lenition), and becomes g. Meanwhile, when adjectives encounter feminine nouns, they also take lenition, hence the changed observed above.

Bryn, meanwhile, is a masculine noun. Hence it causes no lenition.)

It can also apply to cliffs:

As you can see here, clogwyn, meaning cliff, is another masculine noun.

Ultimately, these affixes refer to anything except rivers.

For example, you could also use them to refer to steps/stairs (grisiau, singular gris), mountains (mynyddoedd, singular mynydd) or, if you’re Spiderman, walls (muriau, singular mur), among no doubt many others.

All three of these nouns are masculine, should you wish to make the tables for yourself.

A similar approach was taken to translating upriver and downriver. In contrast to the previous affixes, these only refer to rivers, and nothing else.

The first, i’r aber yr afon, means downriver, but also translates as to the mouth of the river.

The noun, afon, is feminine.

Aber means mouth, though only in reference to the place where a river empties into a lake or the sea, i.e. estuary. If you wish to refer to the body part, the word you want is ceg. 

Aber is a masculine noun.

The second, i’r dardell yr afon, means upriver, but also translates to to the source of the river.

The word tardell is feminine, hence why it takes the soft mutation upon contact with the definite article, thus becoming dardell.

The letter h, meanwhile, does not suffer any form of mutation under any circumstance. Hence, hir is the same regardless as to whether the noun is masculine or feminine.

You may have noticed that the forms -balbili and -dawili, which would mean a short distance downriver and a long distance downriver respectively, are not present. In all the sources I checked, these terms do not exist (though this is not to say that they did not at some point in the past), though some of their hypothetical functions are covered by the affix -bawal.

Also in this section is an interesting piece of trivia. Below is a map containing the River Avon, which feeds into the Severn Estuary, across which spans one of the most popular roads from England to Wales.

Avon is cognate with the Welsh word afon. Thus, the river’s full name, once translated, is River River.

Furthermore, there are two separate River Avons in the Australian state of New South Wales.

(The Clifton Suspension bridge spanning the River Avon.)

Lastly, we will explore the final two affixes:

Let’s start with the first:

-guya = ar draws yr afon = across the river

Ar draws is a set phrase which means across. The preposition ar, which roughly means on, which is often bonded to a verb in order to build various adjectives:

ar gael = available (cael = to get)

ar gau = closed (cau = to shut)

ar agor = open (agor = to open)

I was unable to find a translation for draws alone, though the lone adverb draw does mean away or yonder.

(In addition, there is a probably incorrect use of this in my blogpost: Bayi Marginbara: The Gunslinger in Dyirbal.)

Our second affix is even simpler:

-bawal = ffordd fell = a short way (any direction) (way short)

Ffordd means either way or road, and is a feminine noun.

Fell, is the form of bell following the soft mutation.

(A Dyirbal couple constructing a shelter circa 1890)

Now, you may be wondering how these are actually used in sentences. I would dissect some sentences here, but this article is long enough already.

Therefore, stay tuned to see some of these bad boys in action:

Same Wilf-time! Same Wilf-channel!

Sources:

Google Images

Collins Spurrell Welsh Dictionary, 1991

http://www.geiriadur.net/ (Online Welsh Dictionary)

Dixon, Robert, Edible Gender, mother-in-law style and other grammatical wonders: Studies in Dyirbal, Yidiñ and Warrgamay, 2015

https://www.researchgate.net/figure/A-Dyirbal-couple-constructing-a-frame-for-a-shelter-on-the-Evelyn-Tableland-c1890_fig1_37629812

 

 

Bayi Marginbara: The Gunslinger in Dyirbal

„The Man in Black fled across the desert, and the Gunslinger followed“ are words that will certainly pique the curiosity of any Stephen King aficionados in the audience.

It immediately places us in the middle of the action, and lays forth the motivation of both our characters.

However, this is not a literary review, and I have only read The Gunslinger once (and am yet to get round to the sequels).

Furthermore, I have not seen the film, and nor do I ever intend to.

(The cover for the edition I read).

The Dyirbal language is currently spoken by around 8 speakers in the Cairns Rainforest region of Northeast Queensland.

This language is also notable for more or less restructuring its entire grammar in the space of but one generation, though that is a topic for another day.

In my translation I have made most use of the 1973 Grammar by Robert Dixon, along with other sources.

 

Here is the translation for the first line:

The Man in Black fled across the desert and the Gunslinger followed.

Bayi Yarra Gingin gabalgambilguya dyinggalinyu banggul Marginbaragu marin.

Overall, this is the closest to a word-for-word translation that I was able to manage, and as close as may be possible.

Let’s go through this sentence one section at a time.

Bayi Yarra Gingin is my translation of The Man in Black. 

On the whole there is not much to really say, at least compared to later on.

Yarra means Man and Gingin simply means black.

Bayi, meanwhile, means The, as you could guess, and is in the absolutive case, which I will explain later.

Hence, his name has now become The Black Man. 

In addition, this brings us to the Dyirbal grammatical gender system.

Dyirbal has 4 genders:

Gender 1, bayi, refers to male humans and most animals.

Gender 2, balan, refers to female humans, fire, water and dangerous things.

Gender 3, balam, refers to edible plants only.

Gender 4, bala, refers to everything else not covered by the above three genders.

As far as I can tell, the definite article tends to be optional in most instances, but I chose to include them in order to get closer to a word for word translation, and also for emphasis.

Gabalgambilguya means across the desert, though  the direct translation is far more poetic.

First of all, there is no word for desert in the Dyirbal language.

While this may seem strange, it is necessary to remember that the Dyirbal people and their language hail from the Cairns Rainforest in North-East Queensland (pictured below), not from the outback.

Gabalgambilguya is a compound of three words.

Gabal means sand; gambil means mountain; and guya is a locational word that translates to across the river.

Overall, this can be translated as across the river of mountains of sand.

However, I admit now that this word may not be entirely grammatically correct, and its existence should be taken with a pinch of salt.

Dyinggalinyu means to run or to play, but is here used to mean to flee.

The infinitive form of this verb is dyinggaliy, and above stands the conjugation used for both past and present tense. Hence, it could also mean flees in the case of the Man in Black.

In Dyirbal, each verb has only two forms, future and non-future, and do not conjugate for person. This means that the verb does not change depending on who is performing the action in question.

If you wished to place this action in the future, i.e. The Man in Black will flee, then depending on dialect it will be either bayi Yarra Gingin dyinggaliny or bayi Yarra Gingin dyinggalindyay. 

The Dyirbal language also lacks any word for and. Instead, it is omitted.

Here we come to the noun phrase banggul Marginbaragu, which means The Gunslinger,  and consists of four components.

The first margin, simply means gun.

Bara is a suffix which means person or animal associated with.

Gu, meanwhile, is the ergative case marker.

Banggul is the ergative form of bayi, the marker for Gender 1.

But, I hear you cry, what is this „ergativity“ of which you speak.

Well, ergativity occurs in languages where the subject of an intransitive verb acts like the object of a transitive verb. Together, these form the absolutive case. The ergative case, therefore comprises solely of the agent of a transitive verb.

(Though this is quite the simplification, it will serve our purposes here.)

This is a feature that does not exist in English, which uses Nominative-Accusative Alignment.

Here is a schematic that should help:

Our final item consists of the word marin, which means either followed or is following. The infinitive form of the verb is maril, and in the future tense becomes either mariny or marindyay.

In Dyirbal there are two main verb classes, the -y class, which is predominantly intransitive, and the -l class, which is predominantly transitive.

However, the most significant difference between the two sentences is that while the English version has a largely fixed word order, the reverse is true for the Dyirbal version.

Here is a visual representation:

 

As is (hopefully) clear from the above diagram, each verb is bound together with the actor who performs them. For example, bayi Yarra Gingin, because it is in the absolutive case, can only be the subject for dyinggalinyu, and meanwhile, can only by the object for marin.

Meanwhile, because banggul Marginbaragu is in the ergative case, can only be the agent for marin, and has no influence upon the verb dyinggalinyu. Therefore, the two verbs or two noun phrases could switch places and no change in meaning would occur.

In fact, you could separate the definite articles (bayi and banggul) from their words and place them anywhere else in the sentence, even swap their places, and see no change in meaning.

The same is true even of the words Yarra and Gingin, which could stand on exact opposite ends of the sentence and still carry the same meaning. However, for literary purposes I would recommend to keep them together, as the Man in Black is, for all intents and purposes, a proper noun in its own right.

Despite this, the Dyirbal sentence allows entirely free word order. With 7 words (I shall consider Yarra Gingin a single, indivisible word for the reasons set out above), that leads to 5,040 equally grammatically correct sentence possibilities, each with the exact same meaning, though different emphases.

I’ll leave you to consider that in your own time.

Fare thee well and until the next.

Sources:

Dixon, Robert, The Dyirbal Language of North Queensland, 1972

Dixon, Robert, Edible gender, mother-in-law style and other grammatical wonders: Studies in Dyirbal, Yidiny and Warrgamay, 2015

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