The objective of this monograph is to close the linguistic data gap concerning Hopi time. It is my hope that this discussion will clarify a certain number of issues that have been puzzling scholars for several decades. I do not set out to resolve the problem of the linguistic Relativity Hypothesis. The foremost goal of this monograph is to provide extensive Hopi information in the form of linguistic documentation and data in an area that suffers from "tremendous gaps on the most vital points" (Hoijer, 1954, 274).
The approach embarked on for a considerable portion of this work is best described in terms of "linguistic archaeology". Its results may, therefore, be characterized salvage linguistics to some extent, for the impact of linguistic acculturation, especially in the domain of time but also in other areas, is thorough and devastating. While the bulk of the collected data was either carefully elicited or spontaneously recorded, every effort was also made to canvass the pertinent literature, whether available in published or manuscript form. In this way many a valuable or rare expression concerning Hopi temporal orientation was unearthed. No linguistic item is included in this treatise, however, that was not confirmed and accepted by Third Mesa speakers. In some cases, where my informants showed familiarity with temporal terms stemming from other dialect areas, these are also mentioned. On an overall scale the linguistic and cultural picture of time that emerges bears the unmistakable stamp of the Third Mesa mother villages of Orayvi and two of its offshoots, Hotvela and Paaqavi.
The speech habits recorded are those of my primary consultants, whose vernacular is marked by certain phonological and morphological traits that are no longer practiced by speakers of the latest generation. The changes and differences encountered, however, are minimal and irrelevant in respect to the purpose and scope of this study. The rate and pace at which they occur is probably to be expected in situations where a minority language is engulfed and dominated by a numerically overwhelming majority language.
The orthographic notation employed in rendering the Hopi material is phonemic, but it avoids esoteric symbols familiar only to linguists. In all, twenty one symbols are sufficient to transcribe the Third Mesa dialect, of which only the umlauted о is not part of the English alphabet. For the glottal stop, one of the Hopi consonants, the apostrophe is used. The only diacritics drawn upon are the acute accent to mark primary stress and the grave accent to indicate falling tone. The latter may occur on all long vowels, all diphthongs, and certain combinations of short vowel plus nasal and short vowel plus lateral. The following tables survey the various inventories of consonants and semivowels
§ § §
That semantic niceties and lexicalized concepts indigenous to a foreign language are not gleaned from a superficial familiarity with the source language and culture is, of course, a truism for any ethnolinguist. One must, therefore, also ask with what size grain of salt one has to view all those generalizing accounts of orientation and measuring of time among so-called primitive peoples (see e.g. Cope, Dangel, Fettweis, Müller, Nilsson, etc.). A passage which is typical for such a summarizing, account relates how the natives informed the explorer-research in question that they would make a journey in two days. "They indicated with their hands the diurnal motion of the sun and expressed the number two by as many of their fingers" (Nilsson, 1920, 12).
Mention must also be made that study is one-sided in that it focuses only on Hopi temporal reality as it is reflected in the dialect of Third Mesa speakers. Whorf's research, on the other hand, was based primarily on the vernacular of the Second Mesa community of Musangnuvi. To complement the Hopi time picture that has evolved here, comparative studies in the villages of the other dialect regions would have to be undertaken. Especially in the realm of the lexicalization of temporal reality, additional information should easily be found. Of the topics neglected here is the whole range of grammatical subordinators which mark temporal clauses and structural actions or events according to principles of anteriority, simultaneity, and posteriority. While they, as well as many aspectual suffixes that often merge with notions of time, are scattered throughout the many text's samples, a preliminary survey was made available in Malotki 1979b. A more detailed exploration of their syntactic and semantic interplay, however, is now being undertaken by this author.
While, it is the paramount thrust of this monograph to attest to the fact that the Hopi Indians lack neither an elaborate consciousness of time nor its reflection in their speech - the lexemes and locutions – we can also say that their sense of time, or the role that time plays in their lives and culture, does not correspond to ours. Nor would one expect the two to be identical. Indeed, projections of the kind which Whorf based on a comparison of the Hopi and SAE approach to handling time do not seem to be fair to either side. Time-reckoning methods, calendrical systems, temporal orientation means, etc., are very complex and highly sophisticated in both the Hopi and our western world. And although we detect a great deal of overlap, the influence of historical, social, religious, environmental, and other factors has definitely shaped, and is still shaping, the individual temporal needs, of each group.
(Malotki J., Ekkehart. Hopi Time: A Linguistic Analysis of the Temporal Concepts in the Hopi Language. NY: Mouton Publ., 1983. P. 3–5)
TEXT 4. Irony
A great deal has been written about irony and the different connotations it assumes in such phrases as "Socratic irony", "the irony of fate", "dramatic irony". These matters are irrelevant here except as a background to its purely linguistic study, which is my main concern.
The two-level response which we noted in litotes is characteristic of linguistic irony as a whole. H.W.Fowler in Modern English Usage describes irony as a mode of expression which postulates a double audience, one of which is "in the know" and aware of the speaker's intention, whilst the other is naive enough to take the utterance at its face value, This seems to be a fitting account of what we understand by "dramatic irony", i.e. a situation in which a double meaning is meant to be appreciated by the audience, but not by someone on the stage. But linguistic irony does not so much presuppose a double audience as a double response from the same audience.
The basis of irony as applied to language is the human disposition to adopt a pose, or to put on a mask. The notion of a disguise is particularly pertinent, as it brings out (a) the element of concealment in irony, and (b) the fact that what is concealed is meant to be found out. If you dress up as a rabbit at a fancy-dress ball, you do not intend to be mistaken for a rabbit. In the same way, the mask of irony is not normally meant to deceive anyone -if it does, then it has had the wrong effect. When someone takes an ironical remark at face value, we are justified in saying that he has "failed to appreciate the irony" of it.
It is also of the essence of irony that is should criticize or disparage under the guise of praise or neutrality. Hence its importance as a tool of satire. The "mask" of approval may be called the overt or direct meaning, and the disapproval behind the mask the covert or oblique meaning.
For simplicity's sake, we may start with an example of the type of everyday irony to which we apply the term sarcasm. Sarcasm consists in saying the opposite of what is intended: saying something nice with the intention that your hearer should understand something nasty. If I had a black eye, and a friend met me in the street with the remark "Don't you look gorgeous!", I should have to be extremely undiscerning not to realize that the reference was to my temporary disfigurement, not to my physical beauty. The reason for rejecting the overt meaning is its incompatibility with the context: in a different context, that of "boy meets girl", the overt interpretation would be acceptable, if not mandatory. We now see how irony fits into the general pattern of tropes. A superficial absurdity points to an underlying interpretation; and as with hyperbole, the initial interpretation may be rejected for one of two reasons - (а) because it is unacceptable within the situation, or (b) because it would be unacceptable in any situation, The first type of incongruity is illustrated in the sarcastic utterance just cited; the second, that which is absurd or outrageous with respect to any context, is illustrated in the following:
His designs were strictly honourable, as the saying is; that is, to rob a lady of her fortune by way of marriage.
(Fielding, Tom Jones)
Fielding here offers a definition of honourable which blatantly conflicts with any definition that would be countenanced by a dictionary-maker. Since we cannot take what he says seriously, we infer that it is an exaggeration, to the point of ridicule, of a point of view which he wishes to disparage. There is an ironic contrast between the word honourable and the dishonourable conduct it is held to stand for.
The most valued type of literary irony is that which, like Fielding's implies moral or ethical criticism. The kind of nonsense which the writer effects to perpetrate is incredible not because it is factually absurd, as in "human elephant", but because it outrages accepted values:
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral baked meat
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
(Hamlet)
In this speech Hamlet gives an ostensible motive for his mother's hasty remarriage after his father's death. What he suggests is that she wanted to save the cost of a marriage banquet by using the left-overs of the funeral repast. But this is so preposterous that no one could take it seriously for a minute. Hamlet's unconcerned worldly wisdom, his apparent acceptance of the monstrously thick-skinned behaviour he attributes to his mother, is a mask which conceals his true sense of horror.
The writer most noted for this type of irony is Swift, who in -the treatise from which the following passage is taken, contends with apparent gravity that the answer to the social problems in Ireland lies in cannibalism:
I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled, and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee, or a ragout.
(A Modest Proposal)
A serious argument in this vein would, needless to say, be unthinkable in eighteenth-century England, as in any civilized society. It is this which, despite Swift's deadpan reasonableness of manner, forces us to assume an ironical interpretation.
In all these examples, it may be observed, the ironist adopts a tone which is at a variance with his true point of view, and which subtly sharpens the edge of the irony. Swift methodically lists the various ways' of preparing a young child for the table as if careful to anticipate a gourmet's objection that it does not offer the same culinary delights as (say) veal or venison. That is to say, he adopts the air of a rational man ready to foresee and politely refute criticism, whilst appearing oblivious to the moral objections crying out for attention. In a rather similar way, Hamlet's indifference and Fielding's bland acceptance of what he takes to be customary usage are poses which exaggerate the enormity of what they say.
(Leech J. A Linguistic Guide To English Poetry. London: Longmans, 1969. P. 171 – 173)