Monday, 15 April 2013

Moten Part XI: Derivation and Compounding


After all that heavy lifting we've done in the last three posts, let's have a break and look at an area of Moten grammar which is relatively straightforward. This post will focus on derivation and compounding, i.e. the twin arts of creating new words on the basis of existing words. We'll first look at derivation, which is not very productive in Moten, and for this reason shouldn't take too long to discuss, before turning to compounding, which is much more commonly used in the language. We'll finish with a discussion about reduplication, which is quite productive in Moten.

Derivation

Derivation is the process of creating new words on the basis of existing ones, usually through the addition of affixes that are not themselves independent words (for instance, from the English adjective "happy", one can form the adjective "unhappy" with the prefix "un-", and the noun "happiness" with the suffix "-ness". One can also combine both to form the noun "unhappiness"). It's different from inflection, which uses affixes to form grammatical variants of the same word (declensions or conjugations), although the ability to nominalise phrases by surdéclinaison blurs the limit between the two. However, since surdéclinaison has been treated already in the previous posts, I will focus here only on word derivation done by methods other than over-inflection.

Unlike English, Moten is very poor in derivational affixes, and we've actually met a few of them already. We've seen for instance the suffix -ano, used to form ordinal numbers. There are also the degree of comparison affixes (described in the same link as above), although those straddle the border between derivation and inflection. And then there are the infinitive circumfix i-...-i and the participle suffix -z, which can be seen as derivational affixes as well (as I described in the past, the infinitive can be used to derive an action noun or an instrument noun from a verbal stem, while the participle forms a noun describing the typical object of a verb).

But there are a few more of these affixes in Moten, and I will now focus on them.

Actor/Agent Suffixes

In English, there is a generic suffix "-er" used to form agent nouns from verbs. For instance, from "to write", one forms "writer", while from "to read" one gets "reader". Agent nouns don't necessarily refer to people (see for instance "printer" from "to print"), nor do they all use the suffix "-er" (see for instance "guard" and "to guard"), but that suffix is nevertheless quite common.

In Moten, there are not one but three different suffixes that more or less correspond to "-er". They are the suffixes -sif, -non and -vu|z, and they all three form nouns from nominal or verbal stems. However, their uses are quite distinct.

The suffix -sif is the most generic of those three. It is mostly added to verbal stems to form actor nouns (not necessarily agent nouns, as will become clear in a minute), i.e. nouns meaning "someone who 'verb's" or "something that 'verb's". Many of those nouns are quite transparent in meaning, like nanagzif: "writer", from |nanagi (stem nanag): "to write", or eze|sif: "listener", from jezeti (stem ezet): "to hear, to listen". Others may not be as transparent in translation, but their meaning still is, like plisif: "lord, lady", from iplisi: "to reign" (basically: "someone who reigns"), or elojmastulsif: "memory", from jelojmastu|l: "to be remembered" (literally: "something that is remembered". Notice how this is not an agent noun). And finally, some have experienced a bit of a semantic drift, and although their derivation is still clear, their meaning cannot be directly inferred from it, like teolsif: "friend", from iteo|l: "to please, to be liked".

The suffix -sif features also a second, totally unrelated meaning: when used with nouns referring to a fruit, vegetable or flower, it forms the name of the plant that bears them. For instance, from the noun dloa: "pear", one can form dloasif: "pear tree". And from the noun sentalu: "rose", you can form sentalusif: "rosebush, rose shrub".

The suffixes -non and -vu|z are somewhat different. Firstly, they can be used with both nominal and verbal stems with the same meaning. And secondly, they form strict agent nouns that must always have an animate referent (usually a person). The difference between the two is in the shade of meaning they give to the agent nouns, and this difference is not easy to explain clearly. Grosso modo, nouns formed with -non refer to artists, while nouns formed with -vu|z refer to workers. For instance, starting again with the verb |nanagi: "to write", while the word nanagzif: "writer" simply means "someone who writes" (without any special connotation), the word nanagnon means "writer" in the common sense of "author, writer of fiction, who does it for a living, or at least tries to", and the word nanagvu|z more likely refers to a "technical writer", i.e. someone who is employed in a company to write documentations and other practical items.

But things are actually more complicated than that, and the correct understanding and use of -non and -vu|z can be a challenge. I know I myself have difficulties understanding the exact difference between the two! Basically, many human activities (although not all of them) can be classified under two umbrella terms: bel and go. I usually translate bel as "art" or "craft", while go is usually translated as "job" or "profession". When you know under which term a specific activity falls, it's easy to know which suffix to use to name the practitioner: when an activity is a bel, the practitioner will be described by a word ending in -non, while when the activity is a go, the practitioner will be described with an agent noun ending in -vu|z. The problem is that knowing under which term a specific activity falls is not straightforward. The translations I gave are approximate, and do not describe bel and go as well as I would like. For instance, while bel includes indeed most activities we consider artistic (like painting, sculpting, writing fiction, etc.), it also includes things we usually describe as crafts instead, as well as activities we usually consider simply as professions (for instance, "teaching" in Moten is a bel, as are many scientific endeavours). In the same way, go refers to many utilitarian activities we think of as professions, but includes also some activities that we as a society don't usually consider as such (for instance, "parenthood" in Moten is a go). And some activities (like "writing" as in the example above) can be considered a bel or a go depending on context, the fine details of the activity definition, and sometimes even the speaker's opinion.

I'll come back to the bel vs. go issue later in this post, so for now just remember how -non and -vu|z map compared to those two terms. One last thing I do want to add though is that for activities that can be treated as a bel or a go, using one or the other is in no way a judgement of value. There is nothing inherently "better" or "worse" in a nanagnon compared to a nanagvu|z. Those are just names for people having two kinds of related, but ultimately different, activities. Using a noun ending in -sif, when a noun ending in -non or -vu|z would be more appropriate, can be interpreted as pejorative though. That's because nouns in -sif can be used for inanimate things and concepts as well as animate beings, and can have a sense of happenstance (a nanagzif is someone who happens to be writing, not necessarily someone who writes as a job). So while correctly using -non and -vu|z can be difficult, one cannot simply replace them both with the more generic -sif, as this could be understood as an insult.

To finish with this section, I need to mention that like any other affixes, -sif, -non and -vu|z cause various morphophonemic changes when added to stems. For -sif, the changes are similar to those caused by the nominative plural infix -s-:

  • -sif becomes -if after s, z, |s or |z.
  • The sequence t + -sif becomes |sif, the sequence d + -sif becomes |zif.
  • The sequence |l + -sif becomes lsif, the sequence |n + -sif becomes nsif.
  • -sif becomes -zif after a phonemically voiced consonant (as a reminder, the nasals, laterals and approximant are phonemically voice-neutral).

For -non, the changes are similar to those caused by the accusative suffix -n:

  • -non becomes -on after n or |n.
  • The sequence j + -non becomes |non.

For -vu|z, the changes are similar to those caused by the genitive singular infix -v-:

  • f and v disappear before -vu|z.
  • The sequences s + -vu|z, z + -vu|z, |s + -vu|z and |z + -vu|z become zvu|z.
  • The sequence |l + -vu|z becomes lvu|z, the sequence |n + -vu|z becomes nvu|z.
  • A phonemically voiceless consonant becomes voiced before -vu|z.

These morphophonemic changes become second nature once you've internalised Moten's phonotactics.

Diminutives

Diminutives are very common in Moten, as in many other languages, and unlike in English. Formation of diminutives is very productive, and nearly any word (well, nominals and verbs in any case) can have at least one derived diminutive. Those are usually used to convey:

  • A diminished degree of the root meaning;
  • A smallness of object size or quality;
  • A single unit or quantity of some material;
  • Intimacy or endearment (especially with kinship terms);
  • Contempt or distaste (basically an ironic or sarcastic use of the previous meaning);
  • A separate but related meaning of the original root (usually a simple diminutive that changed meaning through semantic drift).

As we will see in a future post, diminutives are also commonly used to form nicknames.

In Moten, diminutives are formed using one of three possible suffixes: -sin, -mas and -zes. They are similar in meaning, although their uses vary a bit:

  • -sin is a generic diminutive suffix. It can be used with nearly any nominal or verbal stem to form diminutive nominals, but also diminutive verbs. As for diminutive nominals in -sin, they can refer to animate beings, but also to inanimate objects or abstract concepts.
  • -mas is much more restricted than -sin in meaning. It can also be used with most nominal or verbal stems, but can only form diminutive nouns, which must always have a male animate referent. In other words, they can only be used to refer to a male person or animal. This means, in particular, that nouns with naturally female referents, like di|la: "mother" and e|lon: "woman", cannot normally have diminutives in -mas.
  • -zes is the female equivalent of -mas. In other words, it is used to form diminutive nouns that must always have a female animate referent. For this reason, nouns like ge|sem: "father" or ka|se: "man" with a naturally male referent do not normally have diminutives in -zes.

In terms of morphology, the diminutives suffixes are unique among Moten's affixes: they are not added to the word stems themselves, but to a special version of the stems, usually shorter. That special diminutive stem is formed through a process called clipping, which is very strictly defined in Moten. This process goes as such:

  1. Take the original stem, and keep only its first syllable. Remove every syllable of the stem except its first one.
  2. However, a diminutive stem must be a single closed syllable (i.e. a syllable ending in a consonant). So if the first syllable of the original stem is already closed, it becomes the diminutive stem (for example, the diminutive stem of bazlo: "town" is baz-, and the diminutive stem of sponda: "small animal" is spon-). But if the first syllable of the original stem is open, to form the diminutive stem, one must take it, and add to it the onset consonant of the following syllable in order to close it (so the diminutive stem of linan: "bird" is lin-, while the diminutive stem of kfezi: "grandchild" is kfez-).
  3. However, there are exceptions to the rule that the diminutive stem must be a single closed syllable:
    • If the stem itself is a single open syllable, it stays unchanged (so the diminutive stem of |la is simply |la-).
    • If adding the onset consonant of the following syllable would result in a forbidden coda (remember, while |l, |n, |s and |z are allowed at the absolute end of a word, they are not allowed at an internal coda), the diminutive stem is simply the open first syllable of the word (so the diminutive stem of ge|sem is ge-, and the diminutive stem of di|la is di-).
    • If the first syllable is open but the second one doesn't start with a consonant (i.e. the first two vowels of the word are in hiatus), then the diminutive stem is the first syllable plus the vowel of the second syllable (but only the vowel, even if that second syllable is closed), i.e. the diminutive stem is in this case two syllables, both open (so the diminutive stem of dloa: "pear" is simply dloa-, while the diminutive stem of teol, the root of iteo|l: "to please", is teo-).

Once the diminutive stem is formed, the actual diminutive itself is simply created by adding one of the diminutive suffixes to it. Naturally, such an addition can cause morphophonemic changes, although those are limited since diminutive stems are quite restricted in form:

  • The suffix -sin causes similar changes to the suffix -sif:
    • -sin becomes -in after s or z.
    • The sequence t + -sin becomes |sin, the sequence d + -sin becomes |zin.
    • -sin becomes -zin after a phonemically voiced consonant.
  • The suffix -mas causes hardly any morphophonemic changes:
    • -mas becomes -as after m.
  • The suffix -zes causes similar changes to the suffix -sin:
    • -zes becomes -es after s or z.
    • The sequence t + -zes becomes |ses, the sequence d + -zes becomes |zes.
    • -zes becomes -ses after a phonemically voiceless consonant.

Now that we know how to form diminutives, here are a few actual examples to illustrate their various uses, based on the list of possible meanings I gave earlier:

  • A diminished degree of the root meaning: leksin: "darkish, darkishness" (from leksod: "dark, darkness"), jeksi|n: "to touch lightly, to brush past" (from jeksaj: "to touch, to hit");
  • A smallness of object size or quality: ba|zin: "small dog" (from badi: "dog"), linsin: "small bird" (from linan: "bird"), oksin: "short story, anecdote" (from okne: "story, tale"), bazin: "small town, village" (from bazlo: "town");
  • A single unit or quantity of some material: vonsin: "drop of water" (from vone: "cold water"), a|sin: "flame" (from at: "fire", a fire is seen as a collection of flames);
  • Intimacy or endearment: ba|zin: "doggie", gemas: "dad" (from ge|sem: "father"), dizes: "mum" (from di|la: "mother"), teosin, teomas, teozes: "dear, darling, sweetie" (all three from teolsif: "friend");
  • Contempt or distaste: kamas: "little man, mister" (a disparaging term of address based on ka|se: "man"), ezes: "little woman, missus" (a disparaging term of address based on e|lon: "woman"), dloamas: "fatty man", dloazes: "fatty woman" (insulting terms referring to overweight people based on dloa: "pear");
  • A separate but related meaning of the original root: leksin: "twilight", imsin: "mobile phone" (from imikostu|l: "telephone"), dloasin: "light bulb" (from dloa: "pear", probably due to the shape), kasin: "male" (from ka|se: "man"), esin: "female" (from e|lon: "woman").

As you can see, diminutives have a pretty wide range of uses, and it usually cannot be predicted which diminutive will convey which meaning simply based on the stem and suffix used. However, in general the indication of smallness will be the basic meaning, with the other meanings depending mostly on context (except where semantic drift has acted). The example of ba|zin, which can convey either neutral small size or endearment (or both), is typical here. Still, it takes a lot of experience to understand exactly which diminutive is acceptable in which context.

Zero Derivation

As you may have noticed, Moten words often have more than one meaning. This can range from slight variations in sense (like ipiz, which can mean both "heavy" or "strong") to much broader ones (like jagi, which means "to go" and "to leave", but also "to be worth"). But in any case even with different meanings the words in question don't change category (i.e. a noun stays a noun, and a verb stays a verb).

However, in some cases the various meanings of a stem can be associated with different parts of speech. I am not talking about the infinitive or participle of a verb used as a noun (they are nouns), but about the stem itself being used as a nominal or a verbal stem. Probably the most common example of this is zunla, used as a noun to mean "location, position, place", but also as the verb izunlaj, meaning "to be at, to live at, to be located".

Naturally, to an English speaker, verbing nouns and nouning verbs isn't that unusual. But Moten is much stricter about its grammatical categories, and this pattern is relatively exceptional. But since it exists, I need to mention it. Since derivation can change the part of speech of a word (like verbs suffixed by -sif becoming nouns), I consider this a form of derivation, but one with a zero affix, hence the name zero derivation. Whether that's what actually happens in the language is not actually relevant, just remember that it simply means that a stem is used identically for words of different parts of speech with related meanings.

Despite this pattern being somewhat uncommon, some relatively common words exhibit it. An example is dabolna: "moment, instance, time", which appears also as the verb idabolnaj: "to happen". Another is jelej: "to sleep", whose stem can be used as a noun: elej: "sleep" (it refers here to the abstract concept of sleep, which contrasts with both the participle elejuz, which refers to the state of being asleep, and the infinitive jelej, which refers to sleeping as an activity. The differences in meaning are small though, and it's not uncommon for a Moten speaker to use elej and jelej as synonyms). A last example is the verb imeti: "to greet", whose stem can also be used as a noun: met: "greetings, regards".

Zero derivation isn't very productive, and I haven't been able to come up with a reliable way of predicting which stems will allow zero derivation or not. At best I have noticed that nouns susceptible to zero derivation usually refer to very abstract concepts.

Notice that I've been talking about nouns and verbs only, but zero derivation can involve particles as well. For instance, the nouns |zaj: "beginning, start" and kun: "ending, end" are also used as particles in the formation of ordinal numbers. An extreme example is the root vepe|ne, which can be used as:

  • A noun vepe|ne, meaning "apology";
  • A verb ivepe|nej, meaning "to apologise";
  • An interjection (i.e. particle) vepe|ne, meaning "sorry" or "thank you" depending on the context.

But stems that can be used in all three parts of speech like that are very rare.

Compounding

With the diminutives and the actor/agent suffixes (and the zero derivation phenomenon), I've basically covered the entirety of Moten's productive derivational morphology. That's right: I wasn't kidding when I said Moten is very poor in derivational affixes! So now let's move on to the much more productive subject of compounding.

Compounding is the process of creating new words on the basis of existing ones, by combining or putting them together. Unlike derivation, the elements of a compound are all independent words that can be used by themselves (examples from English are words like "doghouse", a house for a dog, or "starfish", which is neither a fish nor a star).

Languages differ in their abilities to form compounds. French, for instance, prefers set phrases to proper compounds (although it does have some), while German and Dutch are very compound-friendly. English itself is similar to its Germanic cousins, although this can sometimes be hidden by orthography (while things like "city council member" and "cellar door" are written with separate words, they are arguably compounds, and used as such in speech). As for Moten, it is about as compound-friendly as Germanic languages, although its speaker doesn't seem to create "on-the-fly" ad-hoc compounds as readily as English speakers do. Also, in Moten very long compounds are rather rare. Its compounds are usually formed of two elements only, and even compounds that seem to be formed of three elements or more can always be analysed, semantically and morphologically, as recursive compounds, i.e. as compounds of two elements, one of which (or sometimes both of which) is a compound itself. For this reason, for the remainder of this article I will only discuss two-word compounds.

Before I discuss the various types of compounds used in Moten, I first need to mention some things about the morphology of compounds, as compounding in Moten is not always as simple as just attaching words together.

Compounding Morphology

In Moten, compounding is a phenomenon that applies to stems only. In other words, compounding forms new stems by attaching two stems together. In particular, when a verb is involved in compounding, it's its stem that is attached to another stem, not its infinitive or participle form. The same is true of nominals. For those, the nominative singular indefinite form is usually identical to the stem, but that's not always so (a noun like tales(k): "fruit, vegetable" has the nominative singular indefinite tales, but its stem for compounding is actually talesk, including the fragile coda).

Also, while compounding often involves full stems (as in emelog: "summer", from eme: "sun" + log: "season"), it's not uncommon for the first element of a compound (more rarely also the second one) to be shortened. This shortened compound stem is formed by a clipping phenomenon not unlike the one that forms diminutive stems. In fact, it's pretty much identical to it, except that |l, |n, |s and |z are allowed as coda consonants of shortened compound stems, while they are not allowed in diminutive stems (for instance, while the diminutive stem of di|la is di-, its shortened compound stem is di|l-). An example of a compound using a shortened compound stem is ge|samo: "paternal aunt", from ge|s- (shortened form of ge|sem: "father") and amo: "different-sex sibling".

Whether the stems used in a compound are full or shortened, the phonotactics of Moten imply that putting two stems together will often result in morphophonemic changes at the contact point between them. Unfortunately, unlike with derivational and inflectional affixes, those changes are not always predictable. Still, they do tend to follow a short list of principles I can give you:

  • Identical consonants will merge into one. An example is ge|suko: "paternal uncle", from ge|s- and |suko: "same-sex sibling";
  • Identical vowels will merge into one. An example is izunla|leki: "to find, to locate", from zunla: "place, location" and a|lek (stem of ja|leki: "to find out, to discover");
  • Voice-incompatible consonants will change to agree in voicing, although whether that change will be progressive (the first consonant gives its voicing to the next one) or regressive (the first consonant receives its voicing from the next one) cannot always be predicted. An example of progressive agreement is egzbonda: "two small animals", from eg: "two" and sponda: "small animal", while an example of regressive agreement is akfe|su: "sorry for leaving early", from ag (the stem of jagi: "to go") and fe|su: "sorry to bother you" (notice that we have here a compound particle, formed by compounding a verbal stem with another particle);
  • Consonants like |l, |n, |s and |z will often be simplified (respectively to l, n, s and z). An example is dilku|lu: "mother tongue", from di|l- and ku|lu: "language". An example of this change happening although it is phonotactically unnecesary is o|nigzaj: "September", from o|nig: "autumn" and |zaj: "start". The form *o|nig|zaj is allowed, phonotactically speaking, and yet it's simply not used;
  • Fragile coda consonants will often disappear in compounds if they are followed by a consonant, but not without causing some changes first (usually in the voicing of that consonant). A typical example is velbele: "five minutes", from vel(d): "five" and pele: "minute";
  • Typical phonotactic changes will happen when two vowels come in contact, with usually i becoming j, or a j being added to prevent another vowel from coming in contact with u. An example is japujada: "one hundred years", from japu: "100" and ada: "year";
  • A coda t or d will merge with a following s or z (or |s or |z), resulting in |s or |z. Usually, the result will keep the voicing of the coda. An example is seno|ziza: "Friday", from senod: "earth, ground" and siza: "calendar day". Another example is zoba|saj: "March", from zobat: "spring" and |zaj;
  • The consonants l and j will combine into |l, and n and j into |n, whatever their order. An example is to|los: "four parts", from tol: "four" and jos: "part";
  • Other, unpredictable changes can happen, usually in the form of disappearing consonants even when phonotactic constraints do not apply. Examples abound among the counter compounds, like uzavokez: "eight people" (from uzab: "eight" and fokez: "person". Notice how the b of uzab still voices the first consonant of fokez before disappearing) and uzabos: "eight parts" (from uzab and jos);
  • Finally, in some cases, what we are seeing is actually a blend, where bits and pieces of the two stems are added together to form a new word, sometimes seemingly haphazardly. Luckily those are quite rare. An example is the somewhat familiar term slebe, from slim: "ugliness, inappropriateness, bad" and tlebe: "mediocrity, mediocre", which indicates a quality that can be best described as "trollishness", referring to the behaviour of Internet trolls.

Naturally, more than one of those principles may be active at the same time, and more unpredictable changes may happen when one compounds two stems together. That may be one of the reasons why Moten speakers don't create ad-hoc compounds as readily as speakers of Germanic languages do. Nevertheless, a majority of compounds in Moten are quite regularly formed, so those issues aren't as pervasive as one might think after reading this section.

Compound Types

Now that we've seen how compounds are formed in Moten, it's time to look at what kinds of compounds exist in the language.

There are various ways to classify compounds, but the method I will use here could be called "etymological". It classifies compounds as to which of the two stems is primary: the second one (head-last compounds), the first one (head-first compounds) or neither/both (dvandva compounds). Let me explain what I mean by the "primary stem" (which I will usually call the head).

I've used the term "head" before, in the context of nominal phrases and verbal clauses. In nominal phrases, the head is the central nominal the phrase is about. It is semantically and syntactically primary, and any other word or phrase in the nominal phrase completes or qualifies it. It's basically "what the nominal phrase is about". For example, in the phrase gvaj ko |lavospineas: "for my beautiful daughter" (with ko: "daughter" and vospinas: "beauty, beautiful, good-looking"), the head is the element in italics, i.e. "daughter", as the phrase is about a daughter (who happens to be beautiful, and to be mine), not about me nor about beauty. Notice that unlike in many other languages, in Moten the head is often not the nominal that carries the phrase's inflections. So one cannot identify the head of a phrase simply by looking at where the inflections fall.

In clauses, the head is quite simply the verb. It's the only part of a clause that is truly mandatory (although it can sometimes be omitted, especially in speech, that can only be done when context makes it clear which verb is meant), and while noun phrases in the clause are marked for grammatical function, the actual meaning of that function (what I believe linguists usually call the thematic relation) is usually assigned by the verb itself. For instance, take the phrase nanagduzun: "a book" (in the accusative case). This single grammatical function actually covers various roles depending on the verb. For instance, with the verb |nanagi: "to write", the phrase becomes a patient, i.e. it undergoes the action and is modified by it (in the simple sentence Ga nanagduzun |nanagdin ito: "I'm currently writing a book", the object described by the accusative phrase is actually being created by the action described). With the verb joknestu|l: "to read", however, it takes on a different role, which has been called theme, source or simply experiencee, i.e. it is a source of sensory input (in the sentence Ga nanagduzun joknezdu|lun ito: "I'm currently reading a book", the object described by the accusative phrase isn't modified by the action. Rather, it's the subject of the verb which is modified, through the reception of information stored in the object). Because of this vital role, it makes sense to call the verb the head of the clause.

Now, as it happens, the vast majority of Moten compounds can be seen as the simplification of a nominal phrase or verbal clause. In fact, I'd be hard pressed to find a single counterexample to that statement. Basically, take a simple noun phrase with its head and one dependent, remove all inflections, and concatenate the stems together in the order they appeared in the original phrase, and you've got a valid compound! (in the following sections, I will discuss this statement in more details)

Once you know this, defining the head of a compound is easy: it's simply the stem of the word that was the head of the original phrase. If you are still unsure what this means, don't worry: the next sections should clarify everything.

Let's now discuss each compound type in turn.

Head-Last Compounds

The majority of compounds in Moten are head-last, i.e. the head of the compound is its second stem. Examples in English are words like "doghouse" and "smalltalk". Such compounds result from the simplification of various types of phrases:

Noun + dependent noun phrase:
Many compounds can be seen as the simplification of a noun and the genitive phrase completing it. For instance, the noun ge|suko: "paternal uncle" is clearly derived from the phrase gezvemi |suko: "father's brother". Sometimes semantic drift or the metaphorical use of the head can obscure the relationship, but it's still there. For instance, the noun jespoma: "wrist" comes from the phrase juvezi poma, literally "hand's neck". Another example is knamafin: "flower", from knamvaj fin: "grass's top". And of course the genitive phrase may be a result of surdéclinaison, as is the case of bnameno: "shoe, boot", from tebnevami meno: "glove for the foot".
Noun + relative subclause:
Sometimes the dependent stem is verbal instead of nominal. Such compounds can be seen as the simplification of a noun with a relative subclause. Since many functions can be relativised in Moten, this can lead to various subtypes of compounds. The relativised function may be the subject, as in sonsizea: "yesterday, the day before" (an example of a very productive construction, as we'll see below), from iso|n itos sizea: "the day that precedes (today)", with iso|n: "to precede, to go before". It can naturally also be the object. But many other functions can be relativised as well. For instance, location can be relativised, as in penlatina: "waiting room", from ipenlaj itos tina: "room where (one) waits". And in neg|nalam: "easiness, easy (to do)", from |negi itos |nalam: "lightness by which (someone) does (something)", it's the manner that is relativised.
Verb + argument or adverbial phrase:
This is the opposite of the previous case. Here the head is verbal, and the dependent stem is nominal. Such compounds are usually verbs (but see below) formed by simplification of a verb and a noun phrase added to it. That noun phrase is often the verb's object, as in izunla|leki: "to find, to locate", from zunledan ja|leki: "to discover the location (of something or someone)", or joknesej: "to recount, to recite", from okneden isej: "to tell the story (of)" (notice that despite being formed from a transitive verb and its object, both compound verbs are still transitive). But any argument or even adverbial phrase can become the dependent stem of such compounds. An example is imikostu|l: "to call by phone", that probably comes from the phrase momikevoj istu|l: "to call from afar" (literally: "to summon from the remoteness", with istu|l meaning "to summon, to call", and miko meaning "remoteness, remote, far"). As this example shows, metaphor and semantic drift happen here as well. This is also the case of ibivostu|l: "to count, to measure", from bivdon istu|l: "to summon a quantity" (from bivo: "number, quantity").
Other:
All the compounds shown so far come from phrases that show a well-defined grammatical relationship between head and dependent stem. That is however not always the case, and sometimes compounds look like they come from words that just happened to be next to each other, without a specific relationship between them. Probably the most common example of such a compound is the expression akfe|su: "sorry for leaving (early)" (we'll see in a future post how this expression is used). It's a compound of the verb jagi: "to go, to leave" (stem ag) and fe|su, an interjection meaning "sorry to bother you". Since fe|su is an interjection, it cannot, by definition, have a grammatical relationship with a verb. Instead, the interjection akfe|su seems to come from the simplification of a sentence that may have looked like this: et jagvi ito, fe|su: "(I) have to go now, sorry to bother you". In such a case, it may seem illogical to talk of a head stem and a dependent stem. Nevertheless, akfe|su is still treated as a head-last compound, as it has the same part of speech and a similar meaning as its last component.

So far, all the examples I've shown are compounds of the same part of speech as their heads, and (barring metaphor and semantic shift) represent something that is at least similar to those heads. For instance, ge|suko is a noun referring to a family member, like |suko. In the same way, sonsiza refers to a specific siza, i.e. "calendar day". And imikostu|l is a verb referring to a specific way of calling someone, compared to the generic istu|l. Linguists call those types of compounds endocentric.

But those are hardly the only kind of compounds. Take in English the word "barefoot", for example. Not only does it not refer to a kind of foot, but it's not even a noun! Such compounds are called exocentric, and are common in many languages. And that's the case in Moten too. For instance, we have the noun zoba|saj, literally "spring start". It doesn't actually refer to the beginning of spring, but is a name for the month of March, which is mostly in the winter. Another case is the nominal sugi|no: "simplicity, easiness, easy (to understand)". It's a compound of the numberal su: "one" and the verb igi|noj: "to understand", showing that just as in English Moten compounds are not always of the type as their heads.

Notice, by the way, that this last case cannot be explained by zero derivation, as there is no verb *isugi|noj. But that doesn't mean zero derivation never happens with compounds, as shown by the nominal vospinas: "physical beauty" (from vo|sa: "appropriateness" and ipinasi: "to feel, to look"). In this case, there is a verb ivospinasi: "to look good", so the compound is actually endocentric.

In any case, whether a compound is endocentric or exocentric doesn't change anything in terms of grammar. Just remember that the category and meaning of the head do not always allow one to guess the meaning and use of a compound.

Head-First Compounds

Moten is predominantly head-last, which is why when Moten phrases are simplified into compounds those are head-last as well. However, there is one area where Moten is head-first, and it's in noun+adjective phrases. Those can be combined into compounds, which are then themselves head-first.

Head-first compounds in Moten are always of the noun-adjective kind, so there is much less variety among them than among head-last compounds. They are also less common, although they are often used in people's names (as we will see in a future post). Their meanings are often only partially related to the meanings of their constituents (as in ibipiz: "storm, stormy weather", from ibo ipiz: "strong wind"), when they are not downright exocentric (like mosezgo: "cheetah", from mosu sezgo: "quick paw"). Notice that in both cases the head of the compound takes its shorter, compound stem form. This is very common in head-first compounds. Having the second, dependent stem in its shorter form can happen as well, but is somewhat less common. An example is dloalum: "apple", from dloa luma: "fake pear".

There is no way to distinguish a head-first compound from a noun-noun head-last compound, so the existence of both kinds may lead to ambiguities. In practice the danger isn't as common as one might think, as the semantics of their constituents usually make clear which type of compound we are dealing with.

Dvandva Compounds

So far we've only seen compounds with clear head and dependent constituents: head-last compounds formed from head-last phrases, and head-first compounds formed from noun+adjective phrases. But there's another type of construction where two elements can be associated together without one being dependent on the other: coordinative constructions, where the two elements are associated using a conjunction like "and". Such constructions can be combined into compounds as well, headless compounds that are commonly referred to as copulative or dvandva compounds. A typical example in English is the adjective "bittersweet", literally "bitter and sweet". Another example is the verb "to sleepwalk", i.e. "to sleep and walk at the same time".

In Moten, dvandva compounds are very common. In fact, they are nearly as common as head-last compounds, and much more common than head-first ones. Due to their semantics, there can be only two types of dvandva compounds: nominal+nominal or verb+verb. I will look at each type in turn:

Noun + noun:
The simplest kind of noun-noun dvandva compound just combines two elements and refers to the unit formed by coordinating those two. A typical example takes the phrase ka|se opa e|lon: "husband and wife" and forms ka|se|lon: "(married) couple" (interestingly, I'm told this word can refer to same-sex romantically-involved couples, despite the obvious derivation). Another is gomdod: "day, 24-hour period", from gom opa dod: "day and night". Such compounds refer to the pair of concepts as a unit, and as such are just normal nominals that can be used in the singular and the plural: eg ka|selson: "two couples".
Naturally, semantic drift can happen here as well, usually generalising the sense of those compounds. For instance, from |suko opa amo: "brother and sister", one gets |sukamo: "generation" (both in the narrow sense of "family generation" and in the more general sense of "all of the people born and living at about the same time, regarded collectively"). Another example is emekel: "skies", from eme opa kel: "sun and moon" (Notice that emekel is singular, unlike the translation I've given. I've translated it as "skies" to indicate that it's a poetic/literary word, not the generic word for "sky" —which is bo—).
Of course, abstract nominals can form dvandva compounds as well, as in odamla: "brand new", from odun opa amla: "newly made and newly acquired". Similar is the portmanteau slebe, a somewhat familiar word that can be best translated as "trollishness", i.e. the "quality" exhibited by Internet trolls. It's a combination of slim: "inappropriateness, unfit for purpose, bad" and tlebe: "mediocrity, mediocre".
But with abstract nominals, there is also a separate type of dvandva compounds with quite different semantics. Those are formed by combining two opposites, resulting in a nominal that refers to the general concept represented by these opposite words, without any indication of degree. For instance, while sezgo means "quickness, high speed" and bontu means "slowness, low speed", their compound sezbon means "velocity, speed", i.e. it refers to the concept of speed in general rather than to a specific value of speed. Similarly, from odun: "young age" and ukol: "old age", one forms ukodun: "age".
Notice that not all such generic concept nouns need to be formed from combining two opposites. For instance, while one can take fin: "summit, tall, high" and piv: "bottom, short, low" to form finpiv: "height", it's actually more common to use the unrelated be|s for that meaning.
Finally, there is a last subtype of dvandva compound I need to talk about. So far, all the compounds I've shown have two elements with separate referents (i.e. they are the simplification of a phrase using opa). But one can also form dvandva compounds by simplifying a phrase using de, i.e. the Moten equivalent of appositions. In this case, the compound is formed of two elements that have the same referent. In English, examples of such compounds are words like "actor-director", "singer-songwriter" and "maidservant". A Moten example is the noun subumpi: "shophouse", from subo de umpi: "shop as well as house" (no idea why this word even exists in Moten. Maybe it's a common form of housing wherever it is that language is spoken).
Verb + verb:
Verb-verb compounds are very numerous in Moten, and a common way to form new vocabulary out of existing stock. They are at least as common if not more common than noun-verb compounds. There are basically two subtypes of verb-verb compounds: compounds where the two elements correspond to actions happening after each other (usually repeatedly), like jaguba|si: "to come and go, to move back and forth", from jagi: "to go" and juba|si: "to come", and compounds where the two elements correspond to simultaneous actions, like ipenlabutaj: "to sit and wait", from ipenlaj: "to wait" and ibutaj: "to sit".
However, most often those compounds have undergone semantic drift or have always been used metaphorically. For instance, jaguba|si is often used in the sense of "to be nervous" (probably from the metaphorical picture of someone pacing back and forth), while ipenlabutaj is most often used in the sense of "to be patient". Other examples are ipe|lastu|l: "to show, to reveal" (from ipe|laj: "to see, to watch" and istu|l: "to summon, to call"), ipenlastu|l: "to invite" (from ipenlaj: "to wait" and istu|l again) and isestu|l: "to read aloud, to recite" (from isej: "to say" and istu|l once more).

With this I've thoroughly discussed the three compound types that are present in Moten. All compounds you will come across in the language fall under one of the types and subtypes presented above. But that doesn't mean there is nothing left to learn about compounds. So the next two sections will focus on some nifty things Moten does with them.

Pseudo-Suffixes

One of the main differences between derivation and compounding (besides the fact that the former uses affixes while the latter uses independent stems) is that derivation is predictable, while compounding is more free-form. Let me explain what I mean with an English example:

When you add the suffix "-able" to a verb, you know the result will always be an adjective referring to the capacity to accomplish the action described by the verb. This is automatic and always valid. The only uncertain thing is that some verbs do not accept the suffix "-able", but if they do then what I wrote above will always hold.

On the other hand, compounding is much less predictable. Having the same element in the same position in two compounds is no guarantee that the two compounds will be similar in meaning. For instance, despite have the same second element, the compounds "homework" and "firework" have very little in common.

Sometimes, though, compounding patterns can be predictable, i.e. using a certain stem in a certain position will always result in compounds of related meanings. An example in English is the noun "berry" which, when used as the head of a compound, always forms nouns that refer to some kind of fruit ("strawberry", "blueberry", "blackberry", etc.). If I were to suddenly start talking with conviction about a "catberry", people would assume it's some kind of fruit they'd never heard of before (maybe a berry that our feline companions find delicious). In a way, "berry" here nearly behaves like a suffix, used to regularly form names of fruit.

In Moten, there are quite a few stems, both nominal and verbal, that are commonly used in regular compounding patterns. Such stems form compounds with predictable meanings, as if they were derivational affixes. Since they can still be used as independent words, I call them pseudo-affixes. And since the vast majority of those stems are used as the second element of compounds, I usually call them simply pseudo-suffixes.

Compounds formed with nominal pseudo-suffixes are always nominals themselves. Here is a list of the most common nominal pseudo-suffixes used in Moten:

  • tina: "room". The noun tina is used as a pseudo-suffix basically like its English equivalent "room", to form names for types of room. It can be added to nominal stems, as in zubatina: "bathroom, shower-room" (literally: "warm-waterroom", with zuba meaning "warm water", i.e. water typically used for a bath or shower) or oknetina: "reading room" (literally: "storyroom"), but it's most commonly added to verbal stems. Examples are penlatina: "waiting room" (literally: "waitroom"), elejtina: "bedroom" (literally: "sleeproom"), o|zemetina: "dining room" (literally: "eat-and/or-drinkroom", as jo|zemej refers both to eating and drinking) and vajagdina: "classroom" (literally: "studyroom").
  • subo: "shop, restaurant". Like tina, this noun's use as a pseudo-suffix is quite straightforward. It is used to form nouns referring to two types of establishments: shops, and restaurants or other food service facilities. Basically, when subo is added to a stem that refers to an item or group (or category) of items, the result describes an establishment where those items are sold. For instance, with tales(k): "fruit, vegetable", you get talesubo: "greengrocer's". Another example is nanaguzubo: "bookstore" (from nanaguz: "book"). This is a very productive pattern (which can be used with very recent borrowings, like oto: "car", resulting in otosubo: "car dealership"). However, if the item is a type of food or drink, adding subo will form the name of an establishment where those are consumed rather than simply bought, i.e. a restaurant, bar, pub, etc. For instance, with the noun volaj: "poultry, fowl", one can form volajsubo: "poultry restaurant". Notice that the name only refers to the most topical item sold and consumed in that establishment. Other items may still be available for consumption there. For instance, a kafesubo: "café" (from kafe: "coffee") will serve more than only coffee, and a |sesubo: "tea house" (from |se: "tea") will usually serve other things besides tea (the same is true when subo is used to mean "shop"). Also, another pattern is to add subo not to a noun representing a type of food, but to the name of a country or a people. The result is a restaurant that serves food prepared according to the specific cooking tradition of that country or people. For instance, we have filansisubo: "French restaurant" and ita|lasubo: "Italian restaurant". Notice the specific distinction: while both filansisubo and Filanzvi subo translate as "French restaurant", the first one is a restaurant that serves food prepared according to the French cuisine tradition (that may be anywhere in the world and run by people of any nationality), while the second one is an establishment that happens to stand on French soil, and is probably run by French people. If it's a restaurant, it doesn't necessarily serve French cuisine.
  • ku|lu: "language". In English, names of languages are usually simply a nationality adjective used by itself. For instance, France has French people speaking French, Spain has Spanish people speaking Spanish, and Japan has Japanese people speaking Japanese. Of course, things are always more complicated than that, and we have American people speaking English, Brazilian people speaking Portuguese, not to mention Indian people speaking Hindi (which is only the name of the language: there is no adjective "Hindi". There is a related adjective "Hindu", but it refers to a religion, and not all Hindu people speak Hindi, and vice versa). In Moten, the same difficulties appear when one talks about language names, but one thing is constant: Moten language names always use ku|lu as a suffix. It's added to various stems depending on the situation. In simple cases, when one talks about a nation-state with its single official language, the name of the language is simply formed by adding ku|lu to the name of the country. So the language spoken in Filansi is filansiku|leju: "French", while the language spoken in Ita|la is ita|laku|leju: "Italian" (notice that language names in Moten are not capitalised and they take the definite article: they are common rather than proper nouns). But things get complicated quite quickly, as countries may have no associated national language, or more than one of them. For instance, while Doj|slan: "Germany" has doj|slanku|leju: "German" as official language, so does Estalaj: "Austria". One could talk about *estalajku|leju, but that would sound like someone in English was referring to "the Austrian language" (it may work in some contexts, but usually one would simply say doj|slanku|leju). And what about Balat: "India", with its many constitutionally recognised languages? (of which both Hindi and English are considered official at country-level) Which of its languages, if even any of them, should be called *balatku|leju: "the Indian language"? (as it happens, none) So while it's common for language names to be formed by adding ku|lu to the name of a country, it's by no means the only way to create them. The pseudo-suffix ku|lu is always involved, but it can be added to various things: names of regions, islands, etc. (e.g. from Kolsika: "Corsica", one gets kolsikaku|leju: "Corsican"), names of people (e.g. ejuskalku|leju: "Basque", from Ejuskal: "Basque people"), and more rarely various other nominals. What about Moten's name for itself? As it happens, it's motenku|leju. Does it mean that "Moten" is actually the name of a country, region or people? That is a question I unfortunately have no answer to. It's one of those things C.G.'s amnesia makes impossible to know. So in the absence of better information, I will keep using the word "Moten" for the name of the language in English, as an abbreviation of its correct, unwieldy name.
  • fokez: "person". In English, nationality names for people are formed in various ways. For instance, a man from France is "a Frenchman", a person from Spain is "a Spaniard", and a person from Italy is "an Italian". And women often have different names from men. In Moten, things are much simpler: all those names are formed by using the pseudo-suffix fokez, which can be used for both men and women. Otherwise, fokez is used much like the pseudo-suffix ku|lu, and the same caveats apply. So fokez can be used with country names (e.g. filansifokez: "French person"), geographical names (e.g. kolsikafokez: "Corsican person"), names of people (e.g. ejuskalfokez: "Basque person") and sometimes other nominals.
  • go: "job, profession" and bel: "art, craft". In the section about agent/actor suffixes, I mentioned I would come back to the classification of human activities under bel and go. That time has now come. Basically, as I wrote before, many human activities (though by no means all of them) can be classified as a bel or a go. The exact distinction between the two is difficult to pinpoint, and the translations I've given are approximate at best. Typically, bel activities are more artistic, while go activities are more utilitarian. But most crafts are bel, despite often being utilitarian as well. Scientific endeavours are usually bel as well, while the closely related engineering jobs are typically go. Teaching is also always a bel, while learning is neither a bel nor a go. And some activities can be treated as a bel or a go depending on their goal or product, context, the fine details of the activity description, and sometimes even simply the speaker's opinion. Knowing under which term an activity falls is important not only from a theoretical point of view, but also because the name of an activity will usually end with either the pseudo-suffix bel or the pseudo-suffix go depending on its type. Conversely, this means that hearing the name of an activity will usually also make immediately clear under which type that activity falls. Practically speaking, activity names are almost always formed by adding one of bel or go to a nominal or verbal stem that best represents that activity. For instance, we have already seen the agent nouns nanagnon: "author" and nanagvu|z: "technical writer". The activities those two practice are respectively nanagbel: "fiction writing" and nanago: "technical writing". In the same way, from ifotoj: "to look for, to research, to study", one forms fotobel: "(scientific) research". An example that uses a nominal stem is spondakitpel: "zoology", from spondakit: "fauna, animal kingdom" (itself a dvandva compound of sponda: "small animal" and kit: big animal).
  • dati: "way, manner, concept" and ipi: "tool, machine, object". In Moten, there is no single word that covers the same semantic field as the English word "thing". Instead, that semantic field is covered by two words: dati: "abstract thing, concept" and ipi: "concrete thing, object". These two words cover more ground as well, with dati also meaning "way, manner (of doing something)", while ipi also means "tool, machine". In those senses, they are also used as pseudo-suffixes, usually added to verbal stems. Way back then, I explained how, besides being the citation form of a verb, the infinitive could also be used to refer to: either the concept or action described by the verb as an abstract noun, or a person or object that somehow embodies or facilitates the action described by the verb as a concrete noun. An example of the former use is |lezuj: "singing" (from |lezuj: "to sing"), while an example of the latter one is imikostu|l: "telephone" (from imikostu|l: "to call by phone"). But instead of simply using the infinitive, which can be ambiguous in some contexts, one can use the pseudo-suffixes dati and ipi to form nouns with much the same meanings, but much less prone to ambiguity. Using dati forms abstract action nouns, similar to the first meaning of the infinitive I described above. For instance, instead of |lezuj, one can say lezudati: "singing, manner of singing". Using ipi forms names of objects that embody or facilitate the action described by the verb. Those are typically tools or machines. They are similar to the second meaning of the infinitive I described, except that they can only refer to objects, while the infinitive can refer to people as well. For instance, instead of calling a telephone imikostu|l, one can call such an object mikostulipi instead. The difference is that you could use imikostu|l to refer to a person who is on the phone all day long, while you would never use mikostulipi in this sense.
  • va: "colour, hue, tint". I am planning on discussing colour terms and the use of va as a pseudo-suffix in a future post (as there is a lot to say about this topic), so I will only make a short comment here. Basically, Moten has only two basic colour terms: leksod: "dark" and no|se: "bright" (I will describe their full semantic ranges in that future post). But va can be used as a pseudo-suffix to form ad-hoc colour terms when one needs to be more specific. This system, which relies a lot on analogy and context, is too complicated to describe here, so I'll just stop for now. As I wrote, I will devote a future post on this very subject, so stay tuned!

Verbal pseudo-suffixes are normally always added to other verbs, and give them shades of meaning that can often be considered aspectual. Here's a list of the most common, and most productive, verbal pseudo-suffixes in Moten. You'll notice that a few of them are compounds themselves:

  • i|zajstu|l: "to start" and i|za|negi: "to start (with the intention of completing the action)". Moten has two different verbs corresponding to the English "to start, to begin". The first one, i|zajstu|l, is the closest in meaning to its English equivalent, while the second one, i|za|negi, adds to it the idea that the action is started with the explicit intent to reach its natural conclusion (in particular, it implies that the action has a natural conclusion that one can reach). When used as pseudo-suffixes, both form the inchoative aspect, while still keeping the same difference in meaning. In other words, they form new verbs that mean "to begin to...". For instance, with jelej: "to sleep", one can form jelej|zajstu|l and jelej|za|negi, which both mean "to fall asleep". The difference is that jelej|za|negi means "to fall asleep with the intention of waking up fully rested", while jelej|zajstu|l doesn't imply any such natural conclusion. In particular, due to not focussing on eventually waking up, jelej|zajstu|l can also be used as a euphemism for "to die".
  • ikunegi: "to finish". When used as a pseudo-suffix, this verb forms what one can call the cessative-completive aspect, i.e. it forms verbs that show that one has reached the natural conclusion of an action. For instance, see izu|legunegi: "to finish clearing up, to finish getting clean" (often used in the causative voice to mean: "to finish cleaning"), from izu|lebi: "to become clean" (notice the slightly irregular disappearance of the final b of the stem, which still causes voicing of the initial k of the pseudo-suffix). Another example is igunegi: "to die (of old age), to pass away", literally "to finish living", from igi: "to live" (a rare case of a single-consonant stem g).
  • izenki: "to stop" and ikunstu|l: "to give up". Strictly speaking, both verbs means "to stop". But the first one implies a momentary pause only, while the second one implies abandoning whatever one was doing, hence the translation given here. When used as pseudo-suffixes, both verbs form the cessative aspect, i.e. "to stop...". The second one does keep its specific shade of meaning, and can best be translated as "to give up...". For instance, we have jelejzenki which means "to stop sleeping, to wake up", while with ipsenaj: "to swallow, to ingest, to smoke", we can form ipsenakunstu|l: "to quit smoking".
  • iso|n: "to precede". As a pseudo-suffix, this verb indicates preparing oneself to do something, i.e. it can be translated as "to get ready to". For instance, from jagi: "to go, to leave", one forms jagzo|n: "to get ready to leave".
  • izeki: "to follow". As a pseudo-suffix, this verb marks a continuous action. Depending on the context, it can be strong and mean something like "to carry on, to continue", or relatively weak and equivalent to an English progressive form. When it refers to an action that we know was previously stopped, it can be translated as "to resume". For example, with |nanagi: "to write", you can form |nanagzeki: "to keep writing, to resume writing".
  • jagi: "to go" and juba|si: "to come". When used as pseudo-suffixes, these verbs have nothing to do with motion. Instead, they take on a somewhat aspectual meaning, not totally unlike the prospective and perfect aspects (respectively). As a pseudo-suffix, juba|si indicates that an activity has been going on for a while already, i.e. it started sometime in the past, and it is still going on right now. It is similar in meaning to the English perfect continuous ("to have been doing something"), although it even more strongly focusses on the continuity of the activity. The main difference between this form and the Moten perfect aspect is that the perfect aspect focusses on a state resulting from a prior activity (which may have happened at any time in the past and needn't be still happening right now), while this form focusses on the activity itself, which is still currently happening. Here's a short example: imadan nanagubva|si ito: "I've been writing for three years" (literally: "(I) have been writing during three years". Notice that the verb is in the middle voice, which by de-emphasising the object emphasises the action itself. Such a use of the middle voice will be clarified in a future post). As for jagi as a pseudo-suffix, it looks towards the future rather than the past. It indicates that an activity has started, just now or sometime in the past, and that this activity is expected to carry on for some time in the future. It is not unlike an English future continuous ("will be doing something"), except that the activity must have started by the time one utters a statement using this form (it is not unlike saying: "from now on"). The difference between this form and the prospective aspect is that the prospective aspect describes a current situation based on its expected consequences, and the current situation and its expected consequences needn't be the same activity. An example is: motenku|ledun sizevaj ivajagagdin ito: "from now on, I'll study Moten every day" (literally: "(I) will be studying Moten each day", with ivajagi: "to learn, to study". Notice the use of the imperfective aspect, due to the action being repeated. In this case, using the perfective aspect ivajagagi ito would have been correct as well, as the pseudo-suffix jagi already encodes the ongoing, repeated aspect of the action. The complex interactions between verbal forms and pseudo-suffixes will be discussed in a future post).
  • ja|zi|n and joplej: "to give, to take, to receive, etc.". I will not linger much on those two for now. Their use as pseudo-suffixes is strongly tied to the polite speech register, and I will give them a full analysis in a future post about language registers in Moten.
  • ifotoj: "to look for" and ja|leki: "to find". These two verbs are special in that they are not as commonly used as pseudo-suffixes as the ones mentioned above. Basically, when their object is a completive subclause or an action nominal phrase, these verbs take on a different meaning, respectively "to try (to do something)" and "to succeed (in doing something)". Here are simple examples of this usage: ga oknuden |nanagi itos ifodo|n ito: "I'm trying to write a story" (literally: "I'm looking for that (I) write a story") and ludozvu|n ipe|leda|n ja|leki etok: "I managed to meet him" (literally: "(I) found the seeing of him"). In that sense, the subject of the completive subclause or action nominal is usually the same as the subject of the main verb (although this is not mandatory in Moten), and one could think that those sentences could be shortened by turning the main verbs of those sentences into pseudo-suffixes. And indeed, the sentences above can be rendered that way: ga oknuden |nanagvodo|n ito and ludosun ipe|la|leki etok. However, despite those sentences being grammatical and lighter than their variants, C.G. always feels a bit uncomfortable using them. He still prefers the versions with completive subclauses or action nominals, however heavy they may become. I'm not sure what this means for the grammaticality of these constructions in general. Since C.G.'s idiolect is the only known example of native Moten we have, my only possible conclusion is that at least for C.G., using ifotoj and ja|leki as pseudo-suffixes is still on the edge of grammaticality. But there's no way of knowing whether this is just some idiosyncrasy of his, or a general feature of the language.

What about pseudo-prefixes? As I mentioned above, those are very rare in Moten. In fact, I can only think of two stems used productively as the first elements of compounds: the stems of the verbs iso|n and izeki. They are added as prefixes to nouns to mean respectively "last, previous" and "next, following". And while they are productive, they are quite restricted in their use: they can only be added to simple, original Moten stems indicating time periods.

So they can be added to nouns like siza: "calendar day", dod: "evening, night", daj: "hour" and ada: "year". For instance, one can form the expressions sonsizea: "the previous day, yesterday" and zeksizea: "the following day, tomorrow". With mune: "month", you have sonmune: "the previous month, last month" and zekmune: "the following month, next month". You can even add them to funa: "second", although the results are rather idiomatic: zekfunea literally means "the next second", but it's mostly used as an interjection to ask for someone to wait a short moment, so zekfunea! is basically equivalent to "one moment!". In the same way, sonfunea means literally "the last second", but it's used mostly adverbially to mean "a moment ago" or "just now".

On the other hand, these stems cannot be added to compounds like gomdod: "day", over-inflected forms like negesizdan: "week", or recent compounds like ada|zaj: "January". For those, the normal way to render the meanings "next" and "last" is to use the origin-less ordinal numbers kun egano: "second one after some unspecified origin, next" and |zaj egano: "second one before some unspecified origin, previous". So for instance one has negesizdan |zaj eganeo: "the previous week, last week" or zoba|saj kun eganeo: "the following March, next March".

Reduplication

Reduplication is a phenomenon where a word or part of a word is repeated, for various purposes, from expressiveness to inflection. It is often misunderstood by speakers of modern Indo-European languages, like English, because in those languages reduplication is relatively uncommon, and limited to iconic purposes or baby-talk. But in many languages of the world reduplication is a common feature, and there is nothing childish about it. And as it happens, Moten is such a language.

In Moten, reduplication functions in a way that falls under derivation or compounding, and is never used for inflectional purposes, which is why I am discussing it here. It is also not as common as in some languages, but it is more common than in English, and happens in all registers of language. There are two main kinds of reduplication: full reduplication and partial reduplication, and Moten features both.

Full reduplication is the repetition of an entire word. In Moten, there are two patterns of full reduplication that are used productively. The first one I will go over quickly, as it is very easy to understand and use. It is very similar to the "word word" pattern of English, both in shape and usage. This reduplication pattern is used only with nominals, and consists in repeating a nominal as an adjective to itself. For instance, with badi: "dog", you can form badi badi: "dog dog", and with |suko: "same-sex sibling", you can form |suko |suko: "sibling sibling". The meaning of such forms is the same as in English: they refer to the prototypical meaning of the repeated word, i.e. they indicate that the repeated noun isn't used figuratively, and that its referent is the "real thing", rather than a representative, ersatz or replacement. For instance, the expression badi badi can mean "an actual dog, as opposed to those clothed chihuahuas that hardly behave like dogs anymore". As for |suko |suko, it typically means "an actual sibling or cousin, i.e. a family member, rather than just a very good friend" (since |suko can be used figuratively to mean "very good friend"). This form of reduplication isn't unlike using isis: "truth, reality" as an adjective: "true, real". However, the reduplicated form is often preferred as it is more expressive and more strictly refers to the prototypical meaning of the nominal (whereas |suko |suko strictly refers to a member of one's family, |suko isis can also mean "true friend", i.e. it can still be used with a figurative meaning). Also, unlike in English it isn't reserved to colloquial, spoken language, but can be used also in polite or even formal registers. Notice also that since the reduplication pattern is considered a noun + adjective pattern, inflectional affixes are only added to the second nominal, not to the first (of course, if other adjectives or determiners are added to the noun phrase, they take the inflections with them). Here's an example:

I|zevu|z |laj|zeveju|z gebvezi ige!: I want to talk to the manager, and no one else! (literally: "(I) want to talk to the manager manager!", with i|zevu|z: "manager, director". Notice how only the second instance of i|zevu|z takes the benefactive prefix and the definite infix)

The second pattern of full reduplication operates at stem level, and is usable by both nominal and verbal stems. Unlike the previous pattern which operated at the syntactic level, this one operates at the morphological level and consists in compounding a stem with itself. That's to say, take a stem, repeat it, and merge the two together to form a compound stem. For instance, with ku|lu: "language" one forms ku|luku|lu, while miko: "remoteness" forms mikomiko. Those are true compounds, so morphophonemic rules can change the actual shape of the reduplicated compound. For instance, the reduplicated form of fokez: "person" is fokezvokez, while apa: "star" forms apapa. Also, reduplication is done at stem level, so for verbal stems the infinitive circumfix is added only after reduplication. So the reduplicated form of juba|si: "to come, to arrive" is juba|suba|si. As to the meaning of the reduplicated stems, it can be described as being related to a general idea of completeness, whose specific application depends on whether the stem is nominal or verbal.

For nominal stems, the prototypical meaning of the reduplicated compound of X is "all of the X". The reduplicated compound refers to the set of all possible referents of the original stem, and is normally treated as a mass noun, i.e. it appears only in the singular. For instance, the meaning of fokezvokez is basically "all of the people", although a more accurate translation taking into account its use as a mass noun would be "humankind, humanity". Naturally, like any other compound, reduplicated forms can undergo semantic drift, and as a result move away from their strict meaning "all of the X". For instance, ku|luku|lu, rather than meaning "all languages", refers to "language" as the "capacity to communicate with words", i.e. our conceptual ability to communicate with tongues. In the same way, apapa, rather than simply meaning "all stars", is usually better translated as "night sky". As for mikomiko, it's used in Moten as a nominal equivalent to the English phrase "here be dragons", i.e. it refers to unknown, unexplored and potentially dangerous territories (both literally and figuratively).

With verbs, this pattern of reduplication forms new verbs whose meaning are related to the meaning of the original verb, but with an added shade of absolute completion of the action, or doing the action to its fullest degree. What this exactly means depends on the verb. So for instance the meaning of juba|suba|si is "to settle, to fix one's residence" ("to settle" is seen as "to arrive" taken to its fullest possible degree). Another example is ipolpolti, from ipolti: "to open". It means "to break open, to open in a way that cannot be closed again" (once again, "to open", taken to its fullest degree). Naturally, transitive verbs can be reduplicated as well, like ifotoj: "to look for, to research". Its reduplicated form ifotofotoj means "to fully research, to try to get to the bottom of".

Once again, those forms are not limited to the colloquial language. They are used in all language registers, including the most formal ones.

Partial reduplication in Moten is more limited in that only one such pattern exists, and it can only be used with verbal stems. On the other hand, it's much more productive than the patterns of full reduplication I've described so far, and very commonly employed.

In terms of morphology, partial reduplication is clearly a form a compounding. It consists in taking a verbal stem, and prefixing to it its own shortened compound stem. The result is a new verbal stem. For instance, the stem of juba|si is uba|s, and its shortened compound stem is ub-. So the result of partial reduplication is jububa|si. For a short verb like jagi: "to go", the shortened compound stem is identical to the stem itself: ag-, so the result of partial reduplication is jagagi (identical to the result of full reduplication, but context generally disambiguates). Naturally, morphophonemic changes keep happening, so with ipe|laj: "to see, to watch" one forms ipelpe|laj, from the shortened compound stem pe|l-.

In terms of semantics, partially reduplicated verbs have various meanings, usually of a derivational kind compared to the original verbs, and usually referring to action cycles. Partial reduplication can indicate:

  • Repetition of an action: |nanagi: "to write" -> |nananagi: "to rewrite"; ifi|zo|n: "to ask" -> ifisfi|zo|n: "to ask again"; ipolti: "to open" -> ipolpolti: "to reopen" (notice that this one is identical to ipolpolti meaning "to break open". Context will generally disambiguate);
  • Return to a previous state: juba|si: "to come" -> jububa|si: "to come back"; jagi: "to go" -> jagagi: "to go back"; joplej: "to give, to take, to put" -> jopoplej: "to give back, to take back, to put back";
  • Reciprocation: istu|l: "to call" -> istulstu|l: "to call back"; ipe|laj: "to see, to look at, to watch" -> ipelpe|laj: "to look back at"; iteo|l: "to please, to like" -> iteoteo|l: "to like back".

Naturally, in some cases semantic drift has set in and the meaning of the reduplicated verb is not directly derived from the meaning of the original verb anymore. For instance, while imonuj means "to turn", its reduplicated form imonmonuj has taken on the meanings "to roll" and "to wrap" (originally "to turn again and again").

At the risk of repeating myself, I will mention that these partially reduplicated forms are used in all registers of language.

For the sake of completeness, I will mention a last pattern of reduplication, although it doesn't really belong to this chapter. A very long time ago, I presented the affixes used to form the degrees of comparison. And at the end of that section, I mentioned how the intensifier affixes pen-: "very, too, much, many" and len-: "little, few, too little, too few" could be added to forms already featuring comparison or intensifying affixes. One of the examples I gave then was penpenodun: "very very young, much too young", featuring a repeated pen- prefix. Although it looks like reduplication, one could argue that this is only incidental, and that this penpen- pattern is part of a bigger pattern using pen- and len-. And indeed, one can have lenpenodun: "a little too young" and penlenodun: "really not young enough, hardly young at all". However, things break down when you look at the last possibility: lenlenodun. This form is actually synonymous to penlenodun, and more common than that alternative! This means that what we have here is an actual case of reduplication, used to strengthen the meanings of the prefixes pen- and len-. As for the penlen- and lenpen- forms, C.G. tells me that he thinks those are innovations of his own. He hardly ever uses them, and they "feel" newer to him. The reduplicated forms penpen- and lenlen- are the ones he uses generally, and they feel more like an integral part of the language to him.

What's Next

Okay, it seems that I am apologising at the end of every Moten post, but once again I had no idea this would be such a long article. Luckily, with this post the discussion about Moten morphology is well and truly done (well, except for a discussion of proper nouns, which will have to wait a little, and shouldn't be too difficult anyway). Everything that I still have to talk about belongs to the realm of syntax and semantics, as well as matters of prosody that I will eventually get to.

So far, everything I described was at the level of the word, the phrase, the clause or the sentence. But people speak in utterances and conversations, i.e. groups of sentences and sentence fragments. For my next post, I want to describe the generic syntactic rules that govern Moten utterances, and what they mean for the shape of connected speech and written texts. For the first time in this series, I will use an example that is longer than a single line of text, so please look forward to it!

Saturday, 23 February 2013

Moten Part X: Surdéclinaison, Other Patterns and Isolated Cases


As promised in my previous post, this article is the last one of a series discussing surdéclinaison (the first one is available here, and the second one here). In this article I am going to describe more restricted patterns, as well as isolated cases that don't fit in general categories. This post should be slightly longer than the previous one, but it should be entertaining!

Complements of Comparisons

A long time ago, I introduced the degrees of comparison in Moten, and I explained then that I couldn't describe how to form the standard of comparison (the complement typically introduced by "than" in English), as I hadn't yet described the grammatical structures needed to form such a complement. This was, of course, because complements of comparison in Moten make heavy use of surdéclinaison!

But first, let's give you a quick reminder: the degrees of comparison in Moten refer to a series of prefixes and circumfixes used on nouns to indicate:

  • The comparatives of superiority ("-er/more"), equality ("as/as much/as many") and inferiority ("less/fewer");
  • The superlatives of superiority ("-est/most") and inferiority ("least/fewest");
  • The intensifiers/excessives of superiority ("much/many/very/very much/a lot/too/too much/too many") and inferiority ("not very/not very much/little/few/too little/too few/not enough").

All those forms can take a complement, although what the complement means and how it is constructed depends on which structure we are talking about:

  • The complement of comparatives indicates the standard of comparison, and is introduced in English with "than" or "as". It can be a full clause ("he is as tall as I remember") or a noun phrase ("he is taller than me", or more pedantly "he is taller than I"), possibly starting with a preposition ("he goes more often to the beach than to the mountain");
  • The complement of superlatives describes the group from which the element in question is highest or lowest in quality, and in English can be a noun phrase introduced with "of" ("he is the tallest man of the house") or a relative subclause ("this is the smallest cat (that) I've ever seen");
  • Intensifiers don't really have complements (in the sentence "he is very tall for his age", "for his age" is not really a complement of the intensifier. Rather, it's an adverbial phrase meaning "with respect to the standard of his age", and it can be used without intensifier: "he is tall for his age" is just as correct a sentence), but excessives can. The complement of excessives indicates the goal that is missed due to the excess or lack, and in English can be introduced by "for" and be a noun phrase ("there is not enough left for me") or an infinite clause ("this is too high for me to reach"), or can be an infinitive ("this is too heavy to carry").

In Moten, the constructions are different, but the meaning is the same.

Let's start with the comparatives and the superlatives, as they both use the same construction to form their complements. In Moten, the complement of a comparative or a superlative is always introduced with the originative prefix go-. When the complement is a full clause, this prefix go- is used like any other prefix to form an adverbial subclause. Both methods described in the previous section are valid, although by and large the most common one is to directly add the prefix to the auxiliary of an independent clause.

However, this is not enough. Adverbial clauses, like adverbial phrases, can only be used to complete a verb, never a noun. However, at least in Moten, the complement of comparatives and superlatives is considered a noun complement. So we still need to convert the adverbial subclause into a noun modifier. This is done exactly like adverbial phrases as explained in the previous post, i.e. by over-inflecting the adverbial subclause in the genitive case (note that the dependent form of the auxiliary is not used in this case: once it has undergone surdéclinaison, an auxiliary is treated like any nominal for further surdéclinaison). In other words, in order to convert a clause into a comparative or superlative complement, you need to over-inflect it twice, the first time with the originative prefix go-, and the second time with the indefinite singular genitive case! Here are a few examples to illustrate how this works:

Umpi kolen gdan jelojmastu|l gojdvoj pepludegun ige: This house is smaller than I remember (literally: "This house has more smallness than (it) is remembered by me". Although hardly recognisable, gojdvoj is simply ito over-inflected in the originative and the genitive case. Notice the verb jelojmastu|l, which corresponds to the verb "to remember", but with an opposite argument orientation: the thing remembered is the subject, while the person remembering is the object, making the verb more exactly equivalent to "to be remembered by". I will discuss this verb and similar ones in a future posts).

Len pe|laz gojdvoj badi pesezgedono ito: This is the fastest dog I know (literally: "This is the fastest dog than (I) have seen (them)". Notice how the relative subclause in English is replaced by an adverbial subclause turned noun modifier in Moten. The difference between the two is that there is no expectation that the head of the subclause has a function in the subclause itself. Rather, here the subclause just describes the group the head is part of, and it is just Moten's pro-drop nature that makes it look similar to the English relative clause. But in fact, if we were to use a more complete subclause, this would be, rather redundantly: Len ba|zin pe|laz gojdvoj badi pesezgedono ito, i.e. literally "This is the fastest dog than (I) have seen dogs").

While it is fine to know how to form subclauses completing comparatives or superlatives, in general the complement of comparison is a single noun phrase (possibly one with a preposition). This is possible in Moten as well, but such forms are actually derived from subclauses, so it was necessary for me to describe them first in order to make this part understandable.

The principle is simple: the standard of comparison must be described using a subclause in Moten. However, the ability to omit anything that can be understood by context is still valid, so when the subclause closely parallels the main clause it's possible to omit everything except the different bits. And in this case, this includes omitting the verb altogether! (in a future post, I will show that omitting the verb of a clause is actually more common than I made it seem in previous posts, at least in an informal speech register. For comparisons though, it's routinely done in every register) When this is done, the marks of the subclause (the originative prefix and the genitive case) cannot be omitted though (they are needed to indicate the role of the remainder in the main clause), so they get relocated on whatever is left (normally a noun phrase, which ends up over-inflected twice over).

This description may seem overly complicated, but the described phenomenon is actually rather simple, especially if you see it in action. So I will illustrate it by giving a few examples starting with a fully specified subclause and carrying on with its shortened form:

E|lon kolam luvami koka|se gojgvej peftin ige: That woman is taller than her husband is (literally: "That woman has more tallness than her man has". Here the subclause is already shortened slightly. A full, but overly redundant construction would be luvami koka|se fedin gojgvej, literally "than her man has tallness". Notice the noun fin: "summit, top, great height, tallness", and the use of ka|se: "man" with a possessive pronoun to mean "husband") -> E|lon kolam luvami gokokazvej peftin ige: That woman is taller than her husband (literally: "That woman has more tallness than her man". Here, as you can see, the comparative complement is formed by simply omitting the verb of the comparative subclause. The remaining phrase is kept in its original form, here the instrumental, and is over-inflected in the originative and genitive, resulting in the triply inflected gokokazvej).

E tinesa umpi molen izunlaj gojdvoj tina petunedano ipelda|n ito: You can see here the biggest room that is in this house (literally: "(You) are seeing here the biggest room than the rooms are in this house". In practice, tinesa would be omitted here, leading to a sentence similar to the English translation. The noun tuna used here means "big" or "big size") -> E umpi gomolve|n tina petunedano ipelda|n ito: You can see here the biggest room in this house (literally: "(You) are seeing here the biggest room than in this house". Here the only thing not omitted in the subclause is the locative phrase, which is then over-inflected in the originative and the genitive case).

Bazlo molen o|so bazlo molam izunlaj gojdvoj peo|so izunlaj ito: There are more cars in this town than there are cars in that town (literally: "In this town more cars are situated than cars are situated in that town". This sentence shows how the comparative construction can be used even when what is compared is used as a noun rather than an adjective) -> Bazlo molen gomolvami peo|so izunlaj ito: There are more cars in this town than in that one (literally: "In this town more cars are situated than in that one". This example may be the clearest of them all: the main clause and the subclause were nearly identical, and the only thing that has not been omitted in the subclause is the different pronoun).

Although this structure is superficially similar to the English usage, there is a small difference worth mentioning. In English, "than" is often treated as a preposition, leading to sentences like "he is taller than me" (instead of the prescriptivist "he is taller than I"). In Moten that's never the case: even when the verb of the subclause itself is omitted, it is considered to be present "in spirit", and the comparative construction with a single noun phrase is still treated as a subclause (in this way, Moten is more similar to prescriptivist English than to actual spoken English). In particular, this means that one cannot use a reflexive pronoun in Moten in the same way as it is used in the following example: "I was part of something greater than myself". Since vike always refers to the subject of the very clause it's in, in the case of comparative constructions it refers exclusively to the subject of the comparative subclause, which wouldn't make sense in the example above. Rather, the example I just gave can be translated simply as Koga gokogvaj tamut pejuva|n judosun etok, literally: "I was a part of a greater something than I". The strength of the English word "myself" is translated here by repeating the pronoun in both the main clause and the comparison.

Now that we've seen how to form the complements of comparative and superlative constructions, the time has come to look at the complements of excessives. Luckily, although those complements work slightly differently from the complements of comparatives and superlatives, the main structure is the same, so I won't have to go through a long description again. Basically, the basic form of the complement of an excessive is a subclause, like the complement of a comparative or superlative. But rather than being introduced with the originative go-, this subclause is introduced with the final te-, which indicates goal. Like the complement of comparatives though, this subclause must then be turned into a noun modifier, so it is over-inflected in the genitive case. In other words, subclauses completing excessives are identical to subclauses completing comparatives or superlatives, with the only difference being the replacement of go- with te-. Here are some examples to illustrate this:

Ibutaj kolsos ga itmamej tejdvoj peniptizun ige: Those chairs are too heavy for me to carry (literally: "Those chairs over there have too much heaviness so that I carry (them)". Notice the use of the infinitive ibutaj: "to sit" to refer to something facilitating sitting, i.e. "chair". The noun ipiz means "heaviness, high weight" while the verb itmamej means "to carry, to hold, to bear").

Ba jo|zemej tejdvoj lentamun e izunlaj ito: There's not enough here for you to eat (literally: "Too little (of it) so that you ingest (it) is here". Notice how one can indicate the degree without explicitly mentioning what is in excessive degree by using the pronoun tamun: "some, one". This works also with comparatives and superlatives, although we will see in a future post that such usage is not as common as one might think).

Forming a complement corresponding to a single infinitive is as simple as omitting everything in the subclause except the verb itself:

Ibutaj kolsos itmamej tejdvoj peniptizun ige: Those chairs are too heavy to carry (literally: "Those chairs over there have too much heaviness so that (I) carry (them)").

Forming a complement with a single noun phrase is done just as it is done with comparatives and superlatives: omit everything in the subclause that can be inferred by context, including the verb, and move te- and the genitive case to whatever's left. Using the example directly above, one can then make the following sentence:

Tebvaj lentamun e izunlaj ito: There's not enough here for you (literally: "Too little (of it) so that you (ingest it) is here").

Notice that in this usage, when the noun phrase refers to an animate being (a person or an animal, usually), the final prefix te- can be replaced with the benefactive prefix |la-. This is never done for entire subclauses though. For instance, the example above could also be:

|Labvaj lentamun e izunlaj ito: There's not enough here for you (literally: "Too little (of it) for your benefit is here").

So that's all there is to say about the complements of comparatives, superlatives and excessives. The main thing to remember is that they rely strongly on surdéclinaison, as both a functional prefix and the genitive case are necessary to build them correctly.

Other Nominalisations

So far, all the nominalisations done by surdéclinaison we've seen involve nouns in the genitive case (possibly itself the result of surdéclinaison) and verbs in the dependent form (notwithstanding the special case of adverbial subclauses). Those are indeed common and very productive, but by no means the only way to form nominals by over-inflection. Indeed, quite a few other inflected noun forms can be nominalised through over-inflection, although most of them are not nearly as productive (or at least more restricted in meaning) than the nominalisation of the genitive. I'll mention here three such patterns, which are relatively common and reasonably productive.

A long time ago, on my post about numbers, counters, dates and time, I mentioned the word negesizdan: "week", adding that I would eventually explain how this neologism was formed. Time for me to do so.

As I explained then, the noun siza: "(calendar) day" cannot normally be used for durations, but indicates the day of the month. There is one exception: when a compound number+siza is used in the accusative case (optionally with the functional prefix of time di-), it indicates that the action lasted for a continuous period of calendar days. For instance:

Bdan imasizdan izunlafodo|n ito: He's been looking for you for three whole days (literally: "(he) is trying to locate you for three calendar days". Notice how the verb izunlafotoj: "to search, to look for, to try to locate" is in the imperfective aspect rather than the perfect aspect as in English, since this sentence does not indicate the result of something happening in the past, but rather a current event that happened to start in the past).

Using imasizdan here emphasizes that the action happened continuously during that period of time (hence the translation "for three whole days"), unlike alternatives like imagdomun, which also means "for three days", but doesn't necessarily mean that the action happened continuously during that period (in particular, since gom literally means "the period of the day between sunrise and sunset", it implies that the action stopped during the night, while imasizdan implies continuous action throughout day and night. Yes, you can exaggerate in Moten as well as in any other language!).

Such an expression can, like any other, be over-inflected in the genitive in order to complete a noun (for instance: imasizduva|n zunlaz: "a three-day stay", for instance at a hotel), and such a form can itself be nominalised by surdéclinaison: imasizduvea|n: "the three-day one".

However, the expression itself can be nominalised as is, without having to over-inflect it in the genitive first. This pattern forms nouns that refer to generic calendar periods that don't already have a name (like siza itself, mune: "month" and ada: "year"). In particular, it can be used to form Moten equivalents of periods of time that have a special name and meaning in various languages but not in Moten. Hence negesizdan (literally "seven-day period") for "week", or for instance getolsizdan (literally "fourteen-day period") for "fortnight".

One thing to remember that there is nothing special about negesizdan and getolsizdan in Moten. That's to say, those words are no more culturally important than, say, |simsizdan: "six-day period" or genisizdan: "ten-day period" (a "week" of the traditional Chinese calendar). However, since they correspond to relevant periods of time in our Western world, C.G. and I use them more often than other periods.

By the way, this pattern is not restricted to siza. Any counter related to time and date can be used in the same way. For instance, with pele: "minute", one can form gevelbelden: "quarter of hour" or imagenipelden: "half hour". With mune, you get for instance imamunden: "trimester" and |simunden: "semester". And with ada, you naturally have japujadan: "century" and senadan: "millenium".

While the above pattern is still relatively generic, the one I'm going to talk about now, while productive, is also very restricted in meaning and use. Still, it's interesting to look at.

Back when I first described the functional prefixes, I may have given the impression that the benefactive |la- and originative go- were only used with persons, while the final te- and causative |zu- were only used with objects and concepts. And while it's true that |la- and go- are often used with animates and te- and |zu- with inanimates, it's by no means the whole story (as the use of go- for the complement of comparisons, regardless of the animacy of the complement, shows). One day I'll go back to the use cases of the functional prefixes (which are quite varied), but for now let's focus on one particular case, which is the basis of the surdéclinaison pattern I want to talk about.

As I've explained before, when used with a person the benefactive |la- can indicate the person who is given something, or the person for the benefit of whom the action is done:

Nanageduzun |laba negesizdan kun eganeo joplej ito: I'll give you the book next week (nanaguz is the participle of |nanagi: "to write", but is mostly used to mean "book". Notice the expression negesizdan kun (dj)eganeo, literally "on the second week after an unspecified origin". Context makes it clear that it means "next week". Notice also how the perfective present with an indication of time corresponds to the future tense in English).

Tinedan |laga izu|lebi egek: (He) cleaned the room for me.

However, the benefactive can also be used with inanimate concepts and objects, in which case it indicates that the action is done in order to enhance, improve or upgrade that object or concept. Here's an example to illustrate:

Poltuz amla kolen |lajumbvude|n ito: This new door will improve the house (literally: "this newly-acquired door is one to enhance the house". Using te- instead of |la would have resulted in a neutral statement instead: poltuz amla kolen tejumbvude|n ito: "this new door is for the house". Notice also the expression |lajumbvude|n, which is the adverbial phrase |lajumpej: "for the sake of the house" over-inflected twice, first in the genitive case to make it a modifier phrase, then nominalised and put in the accusative case as atom requires. This kind of expressions is relatively common in Moten).

While there is still nothing special about this, things start getting interesting when the noun with the benefactive prefix refers to a body part. In that case, the resulting inflected form can be nominalised directly by surdéclinaison (without first putting it in the genitive). The noun formed that way has a very specific meaning: rather than indicating something generic that in some way "enhances" the body part, it refers specifically to a piece of jewellery that is commonly associated with the body part in question. For instance, from poma: "neck", one can form |lapoma: "necklace". From jespoma: "wrist" (literally "hand neck", with jez meaning "hand", "arm"), one gets |lajespoma: "bracelet". From mensin: "ear" (literally "cup", used metaphorically to refer to the outer ear including earlobe), we get |lamensin: "earring". And from ipe|lastu|l: "finger" (basically the infinitive of a verb meaning "to show"), one forms |lajpe|lastu|l: "ring".

"Wait, what about zanej?" you may ask. Good question! As it happens, there's no reason why the pattern above should be the only way to name jewels, and indeed, some pieces of jewellery have alternative names. In general though, the terms based on body parts are the ones that are most commonly used. The exception is, indeed, the finger ring. Because the word |lajpe|lastu|l is so long, and a bit of a tongue twister, the much shorter and easier to pronounce synonym zanej is used much more often. In any case, it's an interesting pattern to remember, despite its restricted use.

The last pattern I want to mention is slightly different from the previous ones. It may also be at the same time the most restricted one in terms of usage, and the least restricted one in terms of productivity. Indeed, unlike previous patterns and actually all surdéclinaison as I've described it so far, it can be used with any word in any form, including particles! (and that includes clitics as well) In fact, it can even be used with things that aren't even words, like phrases or sentence fragments!

Until now, we've seen how to talk in Moten about things, events, actions, situations, etc. To do so, I have written about Moten, in English. But what if I wanted to translate those blog posts into Moten? What if I wanted to talk about Moten in Moten? To do so, we need the ability to quote words and sentence fragments in Moten itself, something we can't seem to do yet. I did mention how to handle direct speech once, but that method (repeating the direct quote as a separate sentence and referring to it further using a pronoun) does not really work well when talking about words. What we need is a method to embed a sentence fragment in another sentence, in a way that allows case marking so that we know the function of that fragment in the sentence.

In Moten, this is actually done in a relatively simple way: by nominalising the word or sentence fragment using the infix article -e- (basically, treat the fragment as a nominal stem and put it in the definite form). The result can then be inflected as if it were any other definite noun. In writing, this is usually accompanied by quotes, while in speech there is sometimes a slight pause before and after the nominalised form, especially when it's a sentence fragment.

There are three main uses to this pattern:

  • Embedding quotes in other sentences;
  • Mentioning citation forms of words;
  • Using interjections adverbially.

The most common use of this pattern is to embed direct quotes (usually short ones, more rarely full sentences) within a sentence, as an alternative to the usual quoting method described above. Here are a few examples:

Mudutun isej etok? — 'Mejtedon' isej etok: "What did (he) say?" "(He) said 'hi'." (literally: "(He) said the 'hello'", with mejto, a particle meaning "hello, hi" nominalised by -e- and put in the accusative case to become the object of isej: "to say").

'Kovepe|ne' lugen penegipedizno ive|zaj ito: "Sorry" seems to be the hardest word (literally: "The 'sorry' looks like the hardest word". In this case, due to the shape of the word vepe|ne: "sorry", the surdéclinaison isn't visible, and since that word is also a noun meaning "apology", the sentence could also mean: "The apology seems to be the hardest word". Context and simple common sense make the meaning clear in this case. Notice also the form penegipedizno, from negipiz: "difficult, hard to do", put in the superlative of superiority, definite and in the accusative singular. It parses as pe-negip<e><d>iz-n-no. It's actually a case where the morphophonemic rules of Moten are slightly unclear about how to treat the suffixes -n and -no together, given that without the superlative the word would become negipedizun: "the difficult". Maybe due to the influence of this form, a Moten speaker might be heard saying penegipedizuno instead of the form above. They are in free variation, although the first one is still the one most commonly used).

Luvosi 'us vajaguz ite|zon' bunes ito!: His "I don't know" are annoying (me) (literally: "(I) have become annoyed by that one's '(I) haven't learned'". Here what is quoted is actually a full clause: us vajaguz ito: "(I) don't know". It is treated as a single word and nominalised with the article, and then declined in the accusative plural. Its status as a nominal is cemented by the use of the genitive phrase luvosi: "that one's" on it. Notice also the verb ibunesi: "to become annoyed by". It is similar to the English verb "to annoy", but with opposite orientation, and refers to the creation of bother, hence the use of the perfect aspect to indicate that the annoyance is currently existing).

Slightly less common, for the simple reason that talking about one's own language isn't a common activity for many people, is the use of the pattern with citation forms:

'Kozunlea' tolugden ito. Me|lo 'kojzunleaj' neglugden ito. 'Kome|leo' samlugden ito: "Place" is a noun. "To be at", on the other hand, is a verb. "But" is a particle (literally: "The 'place' is a nominal. The 'to be at' however is a verb. The 'but' is a particle". While the first two citation forms are indistinguishable from normally inflected nominals, the last one inflects the normally invariable particle me|lo, which means it has to be surdéclinaison in action here. Notice also the infinitive. As I mentioned a while ago, the infinitive is used as citation form for verbs. But to be truly used as a citation form in a Moten sentence, it needs to be definite. Finally, notice the words tolugen, neglugen and samlugen. They are the Moten names for respectively nominal, verb and particle).

'Kojteo' 'atevomi' beldegun ito: "Is" is a form of "to be" (literally: "The 'is' is a shape of the 'to be'". The noun be|leg means "form, shape, figure, appearance").

Komotenku|leju 'house' de lugeden komut isej ito? — 'Umpedin': "How do (you) say 'house' in Moten?" "'Umpi'" (literally, the answer is "The 'house'", in the accusative case as it is basically an abbreviation of 'umpedin' isej ito: "(you) say 'umpi'". Notice the expression 'house' de lugeden, literally "the word 'house'". The word de is a coordinating particle, which like opa can often be translated as "and". Its main difference with opa, though, is that while the latter coordinates nouns that have different referents, the former coordinates nouns that have the same referent. In other words, while the phrases ka|se opa ge|sem and ka|se de ge|sem both mean "a man and a father", in the first case the phrase refers to two separate persons, one a man and the other a father, while the second refers to a single person, who is both a man and a father. Another common way to translate de is as "that is" or "that's to say", although the most common way to translate it in English is by plain juxtaposition. And this is the case in the expression 'house' de lugeden, where de is used to indicate that "house" and "the word" have the same referent, i.e. "the word 'house'". This is done because while Moten speakers are happy to over-inflect even their interjections, they aren't as willing when it comes to foreign words and phrases that have not been borrowed and adapted to the Moten phonology. Those just cannot be inflected. Since uninflected phrases cannot have a grammatical function in a sentence, the solution is to coordinate the foreign word or phrase with a Moten word like lugen: "word", which can take inflections. Since only the last of coordinated phrases needs to be inflected, this solves the problem: the foreign word can stay uninflected, while still having a well-defined function in the sentence).

Finally, this pattern can be used to include interjections and onomatopoeia into a sentence, with a well-defined syntactic function (rather than the paralinguistic function those usually have). Mostly this is done for purposes of quoting (see above), but when the nominalised interjection is put in the instrumental, it can be used as an adverb of manner, describing the action in a metaphorical way. A few examples will help understand how this usage works:

Gevomi genegedaj tekafe kokinkean ipenlazdu|lun ito!: (He) keeps inviting (me) for coffee, everyday at 5, like clockwork! (literally: "(He) keeps inviting (me) each day at 5 o'clock, for a coffee, like the tick tock!". Here we see the onomatopoeia kinkan, representing the sound of a clock ticking, over-inflected in the instrumental definite to indicate an almost mechanically recurring event. It can be interpreted positively, to mark punctuality, or negatively, to mark routine. Notice also the verb ipenlastu|l: "to invite", conjugated in the imperfective aspect as the sentence refers to a habitual event)

Los koni|sej otedon joknezde|n etok: He kept droning about his car (literally: "He kept talking about the car like the blah". Here the onomatopoeia used is ni|si, the sound of continuous speech, which can mark boredom. The verb is joknesej: "to recount, to narrate, to talk about").

Kozutejuun izektin etok: (He) was following as still as a mouse (literally: "(He) was following like the ...". Even an onomatopoeia that does not strictly follow the phonotactic rules of Moten, like zutuun, the mark of absolute silence, can be over-inflected. The verb here is izeki: "to follow, to go after").

One word of warning: this usage is considered very informal. It's used in speech among friends, but it should be avoided in writing and in formal situations. I'll devote a future post on the subject of language registers in Moten.

Isolated Cases

We've nearly reached the end of this already far too long post. But before I conclude, I'd like to show you a few more expressions that are constructed using surdéclinaison. The difference between these expressions and the ones I've shown so far is that these are not productive at all. They are exceptional phrases that do not form patterns. Unlike the cases presented above, you cannot emulate these to form other expressions. But it's still useful to know they exist.

In terms of meaning, all those expressions are basically adverbial phrases, although some of them are actually disjuncts, i.e. they do not directly modify the sentence, but instead show the speaker's attitude towards it. According to C.G., a Moten speaker treats them as single units (the closest thing Moten has to true adverbs) but is aware of their internal structure, which is always transparent.

Here are a few examples of such constructions:

  • tekojses: actually, in fact (this is the noun isis: "truth", in the instrumental definite, over-inflected with a final prefix. The form kojses itself means "really, truly");
  • godetun: from now on (here we have the pronoun et: "this time, now", in the accusative case and over-inflected in the originative);
  • tegoga: personally, for my part (this is the pronoun ga: "I", put in the originative and then in the final form. It's used as a disjunct, and interestingly it keeps its form even in indirect speech, although it then refers to someone else than the speaker);
  • dikovo|sedan: normally, when things go well (the noun vo|sa: "beauty, appropriateness", in the instrumental definite, over-inflected in the accusative case, with the temporal prefix di-. Despite the temporal prefix being nominally optional, in this case a construction without temporal prefix is never used);
  • |negdin kodidon: while we're at it, at the same time (a construction difficult to translate in English, it expresses the idea of doing something at the same time as something else, because the two activities belong with each other, or at least one facilitates the other. It's the verb |negi: "to do", conjugated in the imperfective aspect, and then made into a temporal subclause, by over-inflecting the auxiliary in the accusative case with the prefix di-, itself over-inflected in the instrumental. The result is still treated as an adverbial subclause, and can actually take participants. For instance: ba |negdin kodidon: "while you're at it" or umpedin |negdin kodidon: "since we're busy with the house". This expression is somewhat informal).

There are many more of those, and I will point them out when we meet them in future posts.

What's Next

Pfew! In total, this took much longer than I expected! That said, surdéclinaison is at the heart of many grammatical constructions in Moten, so it deserves to be treated extensively. I do hope you enjoyed the ride!

Now that I've finished discussing about surdéclinaison, there is not much Moten grammar left to describe. Next post will be about the last bits of morphology I haven't looked at in depth yet: derivation and compounding, i.e. how to make words out of other words. Compared to surdéclinaison, this is a relatively simple subject, so I expect one post on it will be enough. And I will do my best to keep it at a reasonable length!

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

Lexember: a Month of Moten Words


A while ago, over on Twiter, two fellow conlangers, Mia Soderquist and Pete Bleackley, got the idea of doing a sort of Conlang Advent, which after a bit of discussion got the name Lexember. The idea was simple: during the month of December, the Lexember participants would create, and post on Twitter, one word of their conlang(s) per day, from the 1st till the 31st. In parallel, those on Google+ would also post their words there.

I thought it was a fantastic idea, and given the gaping holes in Moten's vocabulary, I thought it would be a great way to force me to create new words for the language. Although at first I was concerned that it wouldn't work out (I'm not good at coming up with new vocabulary), it actually did, and I'm very glad I decided to participate! So thanks to Pete and Mia for coming up with the idea. I'll be happy to participate again next year!

Now that Lexember is finished, I've decided to recapitulate it on my blog, so that people who may have missed some of my tweets can check all my new Moten words here. So I'm now going to list all the words I created for Lexember, in the order of publication. I'll also add the comments I made over on Google+, which give a bit more background and depth to those creations. So here they are:

1st word: u|s /ut͡s/, noun:
son; nephew on the same side of the family. Moten's kinship words are... interesting. Moten People don't differentiate between their children and the children of their siblings, but do call the children of their partner's siblings differently. Similarly, people don't actually differentiate between their siblings and their first cousins.
2nd word: mabo /mabo̞/, noun:
ancientness, ancient; seniority, senior; old. I already had odun: "youth, young; new", referring to young people and things that have just appeared (newly built or newly conceived), ukol: "old age, old", referring to old people and things that have been built a long time ago, and amla: "new", referring to people or things that have been newly acquired (but are not necessarily new themselves). Mabo completes the quartet :) .
And yes, I call it a noun, although it's used as an adjective as well. That's because adjectives in Moten are just a specific use of nouns :) .
3rd word: iso|n /iso̞ɲ/, verb:
to precede; to predate; to go before. The stem son can be used as prefix to mean "previous, last".
4th word: izeki /ize̞ki/, verb:
to follow; to go after. Following (see what I did here? ;) ) yesterday's word, I just had to do that one. The root zek can be used as a prefix meaning "next".
5th word: seliz /se̞liz/, noun:
cherry (the fruit only! ;) ). A straight borrowing from French. The only known native speaker of Moten is an amnesiac foundling who was between 7 and 10 when he was found (we're not sure). As a result Moten has some understandable vocabulary gaps. Some of those are being filled by native coinings, others by simple borrowing, sometimes without rhyme nor reason.
As for why I now have a word for cherries, but not for any other fruit or vegetable, let's just say I have my priorities straight :P .
6th word: selizif /se̞lizif/, noun:
cherry tree. Formed by adding the actor/agent suffix -sif: "-er" to yesterday's word :) .
The suffix -sif is normally used to form actor/agent nouns, usually from a verb stem. For instance, from the verb joknestu|l: "to read", one can form oknestulsif: "reader". While the suffix is not always translated as "-er" (for instance, from jolnesi: "to know by heart", one gets olnesif: "expert" —my 300th word!—, and from ivajagi: "to learn", one form vajagzif: "student"), it normally always forms actor/agent nouns.
However, another use of the suffix -sif is with names of fruit, vegetables (and other similar things), and flowers. When added to those, it forms the name of the plant that produces them. An interesting use of the suffix that I must say surprised me :) .
7th word: tales(k) /tale̞s(k)/, noun:
fruit; vegetable; vegetal produce. Just to keep with the food theme :P . Basically, refers to any kind of unprocessed or minimally processed vegetal produce used for sustenance. So under that word fall fruits, vegetables, many herbs, and unprocessed spices. Things that are not directly consumed (like tea leaves and tobacco) are usually not considered tales(k) (although there are edge cases, just like in English the word vegetable can sometimes refer to something that is technically fruit). The plural talses is equivalent to the English phrase "fruit and vegetables". Notice that Moten doesn't classify vegetal produce like it's done in English, so there is no direct equivalent to the words "fruit" and "vegetable" themselves.
By now you must have noticed that I spelled the word tales(k) with the last consonant in parentheses. That's because it's one of those roots that break Moten phonotactics (which prohibit consonant clusters in coda). As a result the last consonant of this root is "fragile", and appears only when inflection and/or compounding moves it into onset of a following syllable. So the nominative singular form of this word is actually tales, while the genitive singular is talveski (the -i suffix allows the k to resurface). Such roots are few, but are usually common words (another one is vel(d): "five").
8th word: abal /abal/, noun:
dreadfulness; lousiness; bad. Nothing to do with my current feelings :P . I mean, conlangs need words to describe bad things just as well as good ones, don't they? :)
9th word: be|s /be̞t͡s/, noun:
height, average height; medium, middle. I already had a word for "low height" and one for "high height", but not one for just "height". That's the weirdness of having adjectives that are just abstract nouns, without wanting one end of the scale to refer to the whole scale itself :P (in the same way, I have a word for "high speed", one for "low speed" and one meaning approximately "velocity", i.e. "speed in general").
10th word: bivo /bivo̞/, noun:
quantity; number. Just correcting the issue of having a word for "digit" but not one for "number".
11th word: poga /po̞ga/, noun:
rank; level; number. Unlike English, Moten doesn't have a single, generic word for "number", but gives separate names for the uses of numbers for measuring (cardinal numbers) and ordering (ordinal numbers).
This actually shows in little things like the age-old (at least since telephones were invented) "what's your number?". After all, a your telephone number doesn't measure anything, and it doesn't rank you either. So, what is a phone number? A bivo or a poga? Or something else entirely?
Well, as it happens, phone numbers are seen as part of a list, so one uses the word poga for them. So "what's your number?" becomes kopoga mudutun ito?. It could also mean "what's your rank?" or "what's your level?" depending on context. But context is generally more than enough to disambiguate (I mean, how often do you ask for someone's rank while chatting them up at a bar? :P).
12th word: ibivostu|l /ibivo̞stuʎ/, verb:
to count; to measure. Means "to count" when the object refers to a group of discrete items, and "to measure" when it refers to a continuous thing. It's a compound of the 10th Lexember word bivo and the verb istu|l: "to summon, to call, to bring along", so it means literally "to quantity-call".
Somehow, the verb istu|l is used as the second item in many compounds, where its meaning is often taken very metaphorically. Besides ibivostu|l, we've got for instance ipogastu|l: "to rank" (literally: "to rank-call") and joknestu|l: "to read, to peruse" (literally: "to story-call"). It's also commonly used in dvandva compounds with other verbs, like jelojmastu|l: "to be remembered by" (from jelojmaj: "to be thought about by", so literally: "to be summoned and thought about by"), ipe|lastu|l: "to show, to reveal" (from ipe|laj: "to see, to watch", so literally "to summon and watch") and isestu|l: "to recite, to read aloud" (from isej: "to say", so literally "to summon and say"). All in all, a very productive word in compounds. So expect it to crop up a few more times before the end of the month :) .
13th word: ipenlastu|l /ipe̞nlastuʎ/, verb:
to invite, to ask out. Literally: "to summon and wait". It's another one of those dvandva compounds with istu|l I mentioned yesterday, this time with ipenlaj: "to wait for". Little istu|l is getting a lot of mileage in Moten! :)
14th word: teolsif /te̞o̞lsif/, noun:
friend, companion; acquaintance. A generic word for friends that are not very close. In terms of derivation, it's the root of the verb iteo|l: "to please, to be liked by" with the agent/actor suffix -sif.
Very close friends are normally named using the nouns |suko and amo, respectively "same-sex sibling/first cousin" and "different-sex sibling/first cousin", extended metaphorically to refer to people who are not family but who you consider just as such.
15th word: pe|laz /pe̞ʎaz/, noun:
acquaintance. It's the participle form of the verb ipe|laj: "to see, to look at, to meet", so it literally means "someone seen, someone met". Although teolsif can refer to anything from simple friends to people you've met only once, Moten speakers prefer to refer to mere acquaintances with pe|laz, and reserve teolsif to people between close friends and acquaintances.
16th word: topum /to̞pum/, onomatopoeia:
the sound of a heart beating. Moten speakers like to use onomatopoeia when speaking informally, a bit like Japanese people do. And as in Japanese, onomatopoeia can be used in sentences with a grammatical function (usually adverbial). In Moten, that's done by over-inflecting them. So with topum, one can form kotopejum (the onomatopoeia over-inflected with the definite infix, and then the instrumental prefix), which means something like "excitedly".
Topum is hardly the only onomatopoeia to be used this way. One can also use kinkan (the sound of a clock ticking) to form kokinkean: "very regularly, like clockwork", or even zutuun (the sound of absolute silence :) ) to form kozutejuun: "very silently, stealthily".
Using onomatopoeia correctly is quite difficult, but it's necessary to master Moten's informal registers :) .
17th word: mea /me̞a/, noun:
nephew on the other side of the family. Refers to the sons of one's partner's siblings. Counterpart of my very first Lexember word: u|s: "son; nephew on one's side of the family".
Basically, Moten cuts the generation following yours in different groups from English. Instead of treating your children one way, and the children of your siblings and of your partner's siblings another way (but the same way), in Moten your children and your siblings' children are treated the same way, and your partner's siblings' children are treated another way.
18th word: ko /ko̞/, noun:
daughter; niece on the same side of the family. Female counterpart of u|s. Similarity to Japanese is purely coincidental :) .
19th word: teba /te̞ba/, noun:
niece on the other side of the family. Counterpart of ko and female version of mea. Refers to daughters of one's partner's siblings.
20th word: kfezi /kfe̞zi/, noun:
grandchild; descendant. With this word, I now have a relatively complete set of kinship terms. Starting with a random person, I have:
  • words for family members in the same generation: |suko: "same-sex sibling/first cousin" and amo: "different-sex sibling/first cousin";
  • words for family members a generation older: ge|sem: "father", di|la: "mother", ge|suko: "paternal uncle", ge|samo: "paternal aunt", di|lamo: "maternal uncle" and di|luko: "maternal aunt";
  • words for family members two generations older: zda: "paternal grandparent" and lomin: "maternal grandparent" (in Moten, one doesn't distinguish grandparents by gender, but by whether they are the parents of your father or mother);
  • words for family members one generation younger: u|s: "son; nephew on the same side of the family", mea: "nephew on the other side of the family", ko: "daughter; niece on the same side of the family" and teba: "niece on the other side of the family";
  • and finally a word for family members two generations younger: kfezi: "grandchild", which like the words for grandparents does not distinguish gender.
The only thing I still miss is the word members of multiple births (twins, triplets, etc.) use to call their siblings of the same birth, which I know is different from |suko and amo, but I don't know yet what it is (or even if there's more than one of those :) ).
21st word: meno /me̞no̞/, noun:
glove; mitten. Basically anything used to protect hands or keep them warm. Yes, it's snowing today, why do you ask? ;)
22nd word: bnameno /bname̞no̞/, noun:
shoe; boot. Literally "foot glove". Wonder what Moten speakers make of the Vibram :P .
23rd word: dloa /dlo̞a/, noun:
pear. Most people have a weird fixation on apples. I prefer pears myself :) .
Naturally, dloasif means "pear tree" :) .
Edit: one thing I forgot to add was that dloa is the basis of quite a few derivative nouns, all originally diminutives. The generic diminutive dloasin, for instance, is the common day-to-day word for "light bulb". As for the male and female diminutives dloamas and dloazes (respectively), they are rather disparaging names for overweight men and women. Think of it as calling someone "pear-shaped". I don't advise you to do it though :) .
24th word: talu /talu/, noun:
flower, blossom. Refers specifically to flowers growing on trees, bushes and shrubs, like cherry blossoms or roses (which by the way are sentalu, i.e. "thousand-flower" in Moten). Flowers coming from other types of plants, especially woodless ones, like daisies, tulips or even sunflowers, are called knamafin, literally "grass top".
This time of the year was originally a celebration of the promise of the return of the spring, wasn't it? :) Hence the theme today :) . Tomorrow, a very surprising word!
25th word: Noel /no̞e̞l/, proper noun:
Christmas. Surprisingly :P . A straight borrowing from French.
"Merry Christmas" is Noel |ledan, with the second word being |la: "peace" (in the definite accusative singular). Thanks to Moten's grammar, and the ambiguity due to the lack of a verb, this phrase can have multiple meanings. Possibilities are "have a peaceful Christmas", "let it be a peaceful Christmas", "may (your) Christmas be peaceful", or even "have peace at Christmas". According to my informant, all those meanings are valid, and the phrase is kept that way exactly because the ambiguity lets it pack so many different shades of meaning.
This structure, by the way, is not unique to Christmas (which may very well be unknown to Moten speakers. There's a reason the word is a borrowing from my native language :P). It seems Moten speakers like to wish peace onto people on various occasions :) .
So Noel |ledan everyone!
26th word: miko /miko̞/, noun:
remoteness, long distance; far. This word sees a lot of mileage in Moten (pun intended :P).
Basically not much to say about this word, I'm just setting things up for the next two days :P .
27th word: imikostu|l /imiko̞stuʎ/, verb:
to phone, to call on the phone. Literally "to call afar", or "to summon from afar". Also a noun meaning "telephone" (refers to the device).
Still setting things up for tomorrow's word :) .
28th word: imsin /imsin/, noun:
mobile phone (or cell phone, or whatever you want to call it :) ). Refers to all mobile phones, including smartphones.
In terms of derivation, it's the diminutive of yesterday's word imikostu|l: "telephone".
So that's it! Moten has a word for smartphones (and yet still none for apples!).
29th word: tegoga /te̞go̞ga/, phrase:
personally, for one's part. Strictly used as a disjunct (as in: "personally, I don't get what he's talking about" ;) ).
As you can see, I'm calling it a word, then a phrase. Which one is it?
Strictly speaking, it's an adverbial phrase, and a prime example of how surdéclinaison permeates Moten. It's basically the pronoun ga: "I", inflected with the originative prefix ­go- (used variously to indicate the origin of gifts or what something is about), and then over-inflected with the final prefix te- (indicating goal). The result is an adverbial phrase, used strictly for the disjunctive meaning of "personally", "for my part".
So it's a phrase, with a transparent morphology. So why do I classify it as a "word"? (it even has a place in my lexicon) That's because this form of surdéclinaison does not belong to a pattern! You can't add ­go- and te- to anything else (not even another pronoun) and expect it to make sense. It's a one-off, an isolated case of surdéclinaison, that might have been productive in the past, but has survived in Modern Moten only in this form. It's a set phrase, despite the transparent morphology and somewhat understandable semantics. It's so fossilised that it's used even when the point of view of the "personally" isn't the speaker (i.e. the speaker can use it on behalf of someone else), in spite of the base of this word being the pronoun ga: "I".
So for all intents and purposes, I treat it as a word, the closest thing to an adverb Moten has got. There are quite a few of those, usually (but not always) used as disjuncts.
30th word: elojmastulsif /e̞lo̞jmastulsif/, noun:
memory. It's the time to reminisce :) .
In terms of derivation, it's the actor noun (suffix -sif) of the verb jelojmastu|l: "to be remembered by", itself a dvandva compound of jelojmaj: "to be thought of by" and istu|l: "to call, to summon", i.e. "something summoned and thought of".
Notice the translations of both jelojmastu|l and jelojmaj. Like iteo|l: "to please, to be liked by", they are transitive, but with the opposite orientation compared to their usual English translations: the thing thought of, remembered or liked is the subject, and the person doing the thinking, remembering or liking is the object. Verbs referring to mental activities such as those often have this orientation in Moten.
31st word: Adodun /ado̞dun/, proper noun:
New Year. Refers to the New Year itself, i.e. in our case to 2013 as a whole.
In terms of derivation, it's an example of a head-first compound. Most compounds in Moten are head-last or dvandva compounds. But Moten features also some (slightly less common) head-first compounds. They are always of the form noun+adjective, and are usually proper nouns. In this case, Adodun is ada: "year" + odun: "youth, young, new".
As for the celebration itself, i.e. the passing from one year to the next, my informant tells me it's called Imonuj: "the Turning" (simply the verb imonuj: "to turn" nominalised as an action noun), and covers both New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.
Finally, the equivalent to "Happy New Year" is Imonuj |ledan, i.e. "(Have a ) peaceful Turning" (among others. Check again my 25th word for more info on this phrase :) ). Why wishing peace for the celebration only and not for the New Year itself? My informant tells me *Adodun |ledan would sound too presumptuous: you just don't know what's going to happen during 365 days. How can you know all of them will be peaceful? How do you even know people actually want all their year to be peaceful? That said, my informant is an amnesiac foundling whose age was probably still in the single digits when he was found, so take this explanation with a grain of salt ;) .
So there, two words for the price of one, a true New Year's treat :) .

As you can see, those words are all over the place, from very basic, useful words to things a bit more esoteric. I did try to keep it practical, but my creative processes are a bit chaotic, and I can't always move them freely to the direction I want! Well, this keeps things interesting, and at least I can brag that Moten has a word for "mobile phone"! (as long as I don't mention that I still don't have a word for "apple"...)

To finish with, here are a few numbers, to show you the effect of Lexember on the Moten vocabulary. On the 31st of November, the Moten lexicon contained 278 separate entries, for 572 (not necessarily unique) glosses. Now, on the 1st of January, the Moten lexicon has 326 entries, and 686 glosses! The vocabulary itself has grown by 17%, while the glosses have increased by 20%. Not too shabby!

You might have noticed that from 278 to 326 is more than 32 words (it's 48 to be exact). That's because the creative processes that led me to create the 32 words I eventually tweeted about caused some "collateral creation", i.e. words that were created at the same time, but which I felt were not interesting enough to make them into official Lexember entries.

In any case, I'm glad I participated in this Twitter event. Lexember was interesting, intellectually challenging, and a great way to expand my conlang's vocabulary. But most of all it was fun! It was fun to read other people's entries. It was fun to try and come up with interesting comments on my words. Lexember was a fun exercise, and I will definitely partake in it again next year!