Lietuvių bendrinė kalba: ribos ir beribiškumas, sistema, norma ir kodifikacija

TERMINOLOGY AND STANDARD LANGUAGE Jonas KLIMAVIČIUS Institute of the Lithuanian Language LITHUANIAN STANDARD LANGUAGE: BOUNDARIES AND UNBOUNDEDNESS, SYSTEM, NORM AND CODIFICATION The many and varied, yet concise and often theoretical ideas in this article have emerged from the author’s long years of scholarly work as a lexicographer, terminologist, and language-cultivation specialist, primarily applied and norm-setting work, and from a modest, ongoing effort to provide it with a theoretical foundation and justification—to “be at least somewhat of a theorist as well as a practitioner” (Пешковский 1984: 247). Norm-setting activity requires a scholarly theoretical foundation, but it cannot be obtained once and for all: while preserving its coherence, it must be continually expanded and deepened, and critically tested against comprehensive counterarguments. Thus it took shape over a long period through reading the books and articles on general linguistics, the theory of standard language, the history of Lithuanian standard language, language cultivation (theory and practice), stylistics, and terminology by F. de Saussure, E. Coseriu, L. Hjelmslev, B. Havránek, A. Peškovsky, G. Vinokur, L. Shcherba, L. Ozhegov, V. Vinogradov, G. Serebrennikov, F. Filin, G. Stepanov, J. Stepanov, V. Zvegintsev, A. Leontyev, V. Kostomarov, B. Golovin, B. Skvortsov, V. Ickovičius, K. Gorbačevčius, N. Pilinsky, Z. Klemensiewicz, W. Doroszewski, L. Ceplytis, J. Pommer, V. Skujinia, H. Saari, J. Jablonskis, K. Būga, J. Balčikonis, P. Jonikas, P. Skardžius, A. Salys, Z. Zinkevičius, J. Palionis, J. Lebedys, J. Kabelka, K. Ulvydas, V. Ambrazas, A. Valeckienė, J. Pikčilingis, A. Girdenis, A. Rosinas, A. Pupkis, E. Jakaitienė, A. Piročkinas, R. Venckutė, A. Šoblinskas, K. Župerka, V. Vitkauskas, P. Kniūkšta, K. Gajivenis, S. Keinys, B. Stundžia, R. Koženiauskienė, A. Bitinienė, G. Subačius, D. Mikulėnienė, R. Miliūnaitė, and others. A more harmonious, coherent picture and a firmer foundation were greatly aided by continually testing the ideas read against one’s own (and colleagues’) practice. Many 7 atvejų tas „tiltas tarp mokslo ir gyvenimo“ (Пешковский 1984: 247) laikė gerai. Citations and bibliographic references are used here only in a few particularly noteworthy cases—when, in the author’s modest opinion, theoretical ideas are not common knowledge, are rare in our scholarly discourse, and seem to the author themselves more significant or timely. I. The question of boundaries always arises when there is something to delimit—when the adjacent things themselves exist, but their outlines and meaning are not yet sufficiently clear. A standard language is, of course, in some measure differentiated from dialects. Most often, their opposition is discussed, and not infrequently their interaction or one-sided influence. The foundation of the standard language is also always discussed: a single dialect, that is, the features shared by that dialect and the standard language (and, of course, subsequently their differences as well). Less often discussed, but meaningful and necessary, is the natural commonality of the standard language and a l l dialects. Very good—precisely and purposefully motivated—is the Lithuanian term dialect (used in the sense of “language” in Konstantinas Sirvydas’s dictionary, and in the sense of “dialect” by Antanas Baranauskas and Kazimieras Jaunius): d i a l e c t s are classified chiefly according to p r o n u n c i a t i o n—phonetics. duona, dūna, dona, douna, danyte, donela are pronounced differently, but duona, duonytė, duonelė are recognized by everyone—there is no lexical boundary: the internal norm of all dialects and the standard-language norm are one and the same here. To achieve terminological consistency in discussing the subject, this commonality could be called the unbounded level (↔ boundaries). Here, unbounded does not mean the more usual, more colloquial sense 2, “very large, excessive, extraordinary” (DŽ₂), that is, “infinite, unlimited,” but sense 1, “having no boundaries” (DŽ₄)—that is the primary meaning of the word unbounded, and it is the most terminologically appropriate; cf. heartless, “a merciless person” (DŽ₄), but in the Dictionary of Medical Terms: acardius – beširdis (a malformed person without a heart), acardia – akardija – beširdystė (a congenital defect). The unbounded level of the standard language and dialects is very broad, or, in linguistic terms, s y s t e m i c (at the scale of the system). This level is important both theoretically and practically: when caring for the linguistic heritage, which consists of two parts—the standard language and dialects—the common heritage falls within a shared field of language protection and cultivation, as something that concerns everyone who cares for the language as a whole. The standard language 8 it differs from dialects primarily as a norm, rather than as a fundamentally different system. Differences may be isolated (an infinite set) or systematic—according to some level or part of the system, or a more prominent, more universal feature. Through systematic differences, dialects stand out clearly (in contrast) from the unbounded level (and, of course, differ from one another)—they remain beyond the bounds of the standard language: dialects that retract stress, dialects that do not maintain the opposition of the inherent length of vowels, dialects that harden consonants, Dzūkian dialects, etc. Since this exclusion is partial—the entire dialect system is not beyond the bounds—is it not more accurate to put it differently: what lies beyond the bounds is stress retraction, failure to maintain the opposition of inherent vowel length, consonant hardening, Dzūkian features, etc.? For speakers of dialects, especially those who come from them and use the standard language, this would make a great difference—in the first case, they are as if left entirely beyond the bounds; in the second, we draw them toward the unbounded level and include them in it to some extent. At other levels of the language system—grammar and vocabulary—the common heritage is incomparably greater and more significant than the many, but more limited, differences. The distinction is that phonetic and stress-related features are substantial—they are spoken and heard, but evaluated differently by insiders and outsiders: to those who are not insiders, native features sound foreign and are therefore difficult to change. In general, the basic sound system of all varieties of speech is shared—the Samogitians alone lack the affricates c’, dž’ in one position; the Dzūkian dialects differ in having the affricates c’, dz’ in one position or—in some varieties—in two; only the Samogitians lack o, and only one of their subdialects has ou; only the Dzūkian dialects have av in place of au; ъ of the eastern Aukštaitian dialects stands out markedly. The system of grammatical categories is almost entirely shared. At the other extreme—in the domain of vocabulary—the dialect farthest from the standard language and most distinctive overall, although it has many Samogitian features, has few of the textbook examples, that is, features known to standard-language users through folklore and literature, and recognized as their own differences by Samogitians themselves through the standard language; some of them also leave traces in the standard language, for example, kūlgrinda Samogitian, historical ‘a secret underwater road paved with stones’, kūltupis zool. ‘a bird of the thrush family that builds its nest among stones (Oenanthe oenanthe)’ (DŽ4). There are not many cases of lexical collision, that is, oppositional differences, e.g.: grobas 1. Aukštaitian ‘rib’, Samogitian ‘intestine’ (DŽ4); smagus 6. Samogitian ‘heavy’ (DŽ4); 9 marška 2. Dzūkian, eastern ‘sheet’, 3. eastern, Dzūkian ‘bedspread’, 4. Dzūkian, eastern ‘woven blanket’, 5. eastern, Dzūkian ‘tablecloth’, 6. Samogitian ‘towel’, 7. western ‘a small net drawn by two people, without a throat, a two-winged net’ (DŽ4), although all are made of linen. This is generally natural and characteristic of the language, although it sometimes causes difficulties—but mostly as a joke, and only for children, for example: – Kaip vadina-mos šitos uogos? – asks a child. – Mėlynės. – Tai kodėl jos raudonos? – Kad dar žalios... There are inter-dialect misunderstandings, and obstacles to such words entering the standard language or being used in it. But these can be overcome. For instance, skuja means 1. ‘a conifer’s needle’, 2. ‘a pine twig’, ‖ ‘a spruce branch’, 3. ‘the fruit of a pine or spruce, a cone, žebelys, gurgutis’, ‖ ‘spruce fruit’, ‖ ‘pine fruit’, ‖ ‘catkin’, 4. ‘a scale, a screw thread’, 5. usually plural ‘a crumbly piece of tree bark, a dry splinter’, 6. ‘a flake’ (skujos ‘rubbish’; with a few more variants skujas, skujė, skujys, skujokas, skujenos and meanings of derivatives) LKŽ XII, but despite these semantic oppositions, terms associated with the meaning ‘scales’ of skujų have already become established: skujagalvė bot. ‘<...> a scaly mushroom, <...> (Pholiota)’ DŽ4, ‘skujuočiai 2. ‘an order of higher mammals with horny scales (Pholiota)’, since the root žvyn- is not enough to name many similar things (there are the mushroom žvynabudė, žvynaroplis). The unbounded level (the common heritage of the standard language and dialects) is not immutable, so it is also possible to speak of the limits of its change. In the early stages of the formation of the standard language, the influence of dialects on the standard language was more pronounced; later came what was, as it were, the reverse—the influence of the standard language on standard-language users who came from dialects; and, finally, the influence of the standard language on dialects as well. Thus the natural unbounded level has now changed considerably and is much broader. The spoken style of the standard language (if it is still recognized as such, if it has not yet been abandoned), though its norms do not essentially allow it to cross the bounds of the standard language, is, by virtue of its linguistic function (which can be expressed briefly in very simple words—as one speaks depends on who speaks to whom, about what, and why), closest to the dialogic speech of dialects. The inter-dialectal character of folklore (interdialectality) is often mentioned, but not explained. The movement of folklore works between dialects is not entirely without limits in general, and, as it is, it does not provide a basis for any auxiliary or partial inter-dialectal language—although it cannot be completely dialectalized, it is not— 10 completely so, but it is essentially dialectalized (folklore texts function only in dialectal form, and are recorded and published that way)—no third, intermediate variant emerges. Thus the not entirely pure dialectal character of folklore is in no way inter-dialectality, still less supra-dialectality. Another point is important here, however: folklore has a different function from the dialogic language of dialects, and, in terms of function, the artistic style of the standard language belongs to the same typological series as the style of folklore. II. Before beginning to examine the various boundaries of the standard language, it would be appropriate to say a word about the boundaries of dialects as well. Territorial dialects have temporal and spatial boundaries—an age and an area. Territorial dialects are the dialects of the general Lithuanian language. Other dialects—social and professional—have hardly been studied, and are not being studied, in Lithuanian linguistics. Although it would be premature to claim that no remnants survive of the speech of the Curonian Spit fishermen, the Nemunas raftmen, the hunters of the Dainava forests, or the beggars of Šiluva, the best time to study them was lost long ago. Today’s social and professional dialects, meanwhile, are becoming based not on territorial dialects, but on the subdialects of cities and the semi-standard language. In his Course in General Linguistics, published in 1916, F. de Saussure says of the dialectal state of language: “Left to itself, a language remains divided into dialects, none of which encroaches upon the territory of another. In such conditions it is condemned to endless fragmentation” (Cocciop 1977: 231).*The dialects of the Lithuanian language are the eternal foundation of the standard language. Thinking in Saussurean terms, we must say that the Lithuanian standard language is also the true savior of the dialects. The starting point of the standard language’s separation from dialects is writing and the book, which create a foundation for education, culture, literature, and science. Asked whether writing is essential to a standard language, Saussure answers: “Homer’s poems seem to prove the contrary” (Cocciop 1977: 231), but this is rather an exception from antiquity—it would more likely be an early stage of a standard language. A literate language, however, inevitably follows the path toward becoming a standard language. The role of the State and the Church (baptism) is also invaluable. The sequence of boundaries of the standard language should begin with the historical boundary. The baptism of King Mindaugas already brought Lithuanian into the Church in a narrow sense, while the general baptism of the Lithuanians did so in a broad sense. Although “Lithuanian was used quite widely in the administration of the country, extending beyond ethnic boundaries” (Dubonis 2002: 478), and although even “non-Lithuanians in the GDL learned Lithuanian” 11 (Dubonis 2002: 478), but Lithuanian was only one of the state languages and, unfortunately, was used mostly in speech. In the political Lithuanian nation of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, the Lithuanian ethnic group, although not the most numerous, was the principal one, but the Lithuanian language had not been granted the status of a state language to the necessary extent. “In 1540, Sigismund the Old provided for two official languages of the city courts in the privilege granted to Kaunas—Lithuanian and Polish” (Dubonis 2002: 476). In the 1551 regulations of the city of Vilnius, “summonses to court and decisions entered in the court books are announced po polsku i po litewsku, i po rusku” (Dubonis 2002: 478), but the language of the regulations was already Polish. The official written language was the chancery Slavic language; Lithuanian had not become a chancery language. Chancery Slavic and ecclesiastical Lithuanian bilingualism restricted the use of Lithuanian. A new way of thinking, brought by the new estate of the clergy and turned toward the West (through Western Christianity), raised Lithuanian and brought it into the Church. The West pointed to the ideal of national standard languages, ideas for their creation, and living examples (let us recall Mikalojaus Daukša’s knowledge of Italian purism, known as Cruscanism). But the voices of Lithuanian statesmen Mykolas Lietuvis (Venclovas Mikolaitis) and Augustinas Rotundas, calling for Lithuanian to take the place of chancery Slavic, did not prevail. Yet chancery Slavic did not ultimately prevail either: in the homeland, the native Polish language, which had triumphed over Latin in the new Western spirit, replaced chancery Slavic in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania; as the native Lithuanian language withdrew from the ruler’s court and from the Lithuanian nobility that took its cue from it, it too was supplanted, leaving Lithuanian in the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth with the narrow sphere of use of a domestic spoken language. European university Latin universalism (and a certain conservatism in comparison with the flourishing of national literatures) contributed to this—or, more precisely, determined—that the University of Vilnius, founded by King Stephen Báthory (together with its academy), a center of science, education, and the advancement of life in general, did not open up opportunities for Lithuanian to develop or even survive in this strategic sphere. A precise, indisputable boundary for the period of the Lithuanian standard language can be drawn much as one draws the boundary of a city’s age or a person’s age—not counting the prenatal period. Thus, that period can be reckoned only from the first writings; in the case of the Lithuanian standard language, from the first book: in 1547, Martynas Mažvydas put the Lithuanian language into print. 12 The periods of the Lithuanian standard language are also well known. The first is the written language (the phrase “standard written language” seems pleonastic). In more than one country, the standard language, encompassing both written and spoken forms, is traditionally called the written language (while the standard spoken language is sometimes given a separate, dissimilar term, for example, German Bühnen(aus)sprache). The territorial (dialectal) boundaries of the written language are immediately apparent. The regional variants of the Lithuanian written language—simultaneous (synchronous) and non-simultaneous (heterosynchronous)—were precisely determined by the adverse circumstance that Lithuanian was only one of the state’s parallel languages, until it was displaced, along with another language, chancery Slavic, by a new political partner that was foreign and competing, namely Polish. Thus, paradoxically, the most significant and vital variant proved to be the old one—the variant of Lithuania Minor, which existed in another state, not the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, and was cultivated and practiced by a defeated, hence non-state, confession. It therefore inevitably followed the path of a regional standard language and disappeared there, in its homeland; yet through the grammars of August Schleicher and Friedrich Kurschat, Friedrich Kurschat’s accentuated dictionary (although its lexicon was highly regional), and Lithuanian print, it passed on its legacy of West Aukštaitian phonetics, accentuation, morphology (its syntax had already become alienated!), and the core of its vocabulary. Together with Petro Kriaušaitis’s (that is, Jonas Jablonskis’s) 1901 Lietuviškos kalbos gramatika, which established the “simple Suvalkian dialect,” this legacy became the common heritage and foundation of the new, genuine Lithuanian standard language. Incidentally, it was precisely in this variant of Lithuania Minor that Kristijonas Donelaitis began the true artistic style (various beginnings had existed long before, and in considerable number). Naturally, the variants that could not withstand the pressure of Polish—the eastern (Vilnius) variant of Konstantinas Sirvydas and others, and the middle, or so-called Samogitian (Kėdainiai), variant of Mikalojus Daukša and others—were belatedly authorized in 1737 by the printed grammar Universitas linguarum Litvaniae. Also discontinued with the emergence of the new standard language were the multi-dialect variants of the period when Lithuania lacked statehood: the eastern variant (of Antanas Strazdas, Antanas Baranauskas, and others), and that of the Samogitian noblemen’s Lithuanian movement (associated with Vilnius University, although by no means its official- 13 —none passed without leaving a mark or making a contribution. Each testified to the need and the efforts to have a standard language for the future; as each disappeared, it left an example to follow and a basis for creating anew. Significantly, their rather winding history also reveals an almost consistent shift westward, away from the state center, which had lost its native language, and the southeastern areas surrounding it—toward the west, where Lithuania Minor lay. The significance of the latest, western variant may not yet have been sufficiently understood and brought to light (this is largely connected with the failure to recognize and substantiate Mikalojus Akelaitis’s role as a post-uprising link with “Aušra”). The case of the Lithuanian standard language also confirms the insight of F. de Saussure, who argued that the reason for choosing one dialect as the basis of a standard language need not be “the dialect of a region that has political hegemony and where the central government is located,” but may instead be “the dialect of a more culturally developed region” (Coccop 1977: 231). The national revival and liberation movement in the late nineteenth century, the struggle to regain the press and the book-smuggling movement, the emergence of a new national intelligentsia, and Lithuanian patriotic newspapers—in which the journalistic style took shape and shone through the talents of Vincas Kudirka, Juozas Tumas-Vaižgantas, and others—along with aspirations for linguistic purity (often highly unscientific, unsuccessful, and naïve, but lively and sincere) brought forth a written language common to all Lithuania (although spelling norms remained unsettled for a very long time afterward!). It was sustained by an old and, at the same time, somewhat unexpected dialectal foundation rather than a central one (that of the capital). Yet, from the perspective of the dialectal fragmentation of the Lithuanian language system, the southern West Aukštaitian dialect (together with the essentially identical written-language heritage of Lithuania Minor) represents the state of that system very well—in an almost classical form. Jonas Jablonskis’s 1901 grammar marks a visible temporal boundary for the Lithuanian standard language, although this language, which by then was truly standard, was still, as Jablonskis called it, only a written language. Lithuanian became a state language and was firmly established in schools and universities only after two more difficult decades. The chancery style inherited no Lithuanian legacy, but, to its misfortune, it did inherit a Russian one. It was reinforced during the Soviet period, and only now are conditions becoming more favorable for shedding it, although habits persist even after contact with Russian has ceased. Scien- 14 The scientific style (especially its terminology, mainly in botany), which had substantial beginnings even before the advent of the standard language—in the most difficult period for universities [Jurgis (Ambraziejus) Pabrėža, Laurynas Ivinskis, Ambraziejus Pranciškus Kašarauskas, Jonas Balvočius-Gerutis, Jonas Basanavičius, Petras Vileišis, etc.], but which then manifested itself more in popular writing, emerged—the genuine scientific style (and the pedagogical register) only once the written language had become a university language (the activities of the Lithuanian Scientific Society will have provided a good start, admittedly mainly in the humanities). It is no secret, but an inevitability, that the state, administrative, and scientific language often remained semi-standard for quite some time—the best example of this half-standardness (by no means of a low level) might be the writings (somewhat edited) and speeches (some of which have been published) of Antanas Smetona, President of the Republic of Lithuania, a good philologist (translator and associate professor), experienced journalist, and orator. Examples of spoken language can now be heard in reborn Lithuania from the scant surviving newsreel footage of that time (if it does not seem inferior to that of some present-day politicians or cultural figures, this reflects the shortcomings of the present, not the perfection of the past). The pronunciation of the standard language began to be regulated more consistently through the efforts of Antanas Salys and Andrius Ašmantas. The State Theatre’s awareness was significant (fortunately, no German model appeared then—the term Bühnen(aus)sprache, stage pronunciation, for today it could only express bitter irony...). The description Juozas Balčikonis gave in early 1928 of the speech on Lithuanian Radio, which began broadcasting at the end of 1926—“When the antenna speaks, waves of incorrect language pass through all of Lithuania” (Balčikonis 1978: 97)—remained entirely apt for a long time and still applies almost as well to a substantial part of today’s broadcast media1. In any case, the intelligentsia educated in Lithuania’s schools—gymnasiums, seminaries, and the university—acquired standard pronunciation, more or less, and certainly understood its importance. Today, the position of standard pronunciation has been considerably shaken, and the technical means of audio and video, which could be used to teach it, are inexcusably neglected. 1 Balčikonis’s summarizing observation at the time—that “the higher the institution of our country, the worse it speaks Lithuanian” (Balčikonis 1978: 97)—precisely describing the unfortunate tradition of the century, has not become outdated. 15 It should be added that it was only in 1954 that a (not entirely) standard-language dictionary was published—Dabartinės lietuvių kalbos žodynas. It “covers more widely used words of the literary language and colloquial speech” (Pratarmė, p. III), is “intended for the general public” (Pratarmė, p. III), and its purpose is “to help people master the literary language” (Įvadas, § 1); the “practical, prescriptive nature of the Dictionary” is also stated (Įvadas, § 3). Academic linguistics has greatly consolidated and refined the norms of the standard language, but among the remaining gaps, the greatest is precisely the absence of a dictionary of the standard language—and of that language alone—in every respect. III. Thus, the Lithuanian standard language exists—it has existed for a full century. Yet even today, perhaps no less than 100 years ago, it is almost universally felt that the standard language is nothing but a source of endless worries: it is easy to speak in a dialect, difficult to speak the standard language (and then there is spelling, too!). Why is this so, and can things be different? F. de Saussure had already noted the “usual sharp collision between the standard language and local dialects” (Cocco 1977: 60); “the development of every standard language, a product of culture, compels its domains to separate themselves from the domain of nature, that is, from the domain of spoken language” (Cocco 1977: 60). Naturally, culture requires constant effort. In a programmatic article published in 1923, “The Objective and Normative Approaches to Language,” the Russian linguist Aleksandr Peshkovsky also draws a clear contrast: the natural state of language (Пешковский 1984: 241)—natural dialects (Пешковский 1984: 242)/natural speech (Пешковский 1984: 241)/home-spun (домещенная), everyday (житейский) language (Пешковский 1984: 242) ↔ literary dialect (Пешковский 1984: 241 (2x), 242 (4x), 243 (6x), 244 (3x))/literary speech (Пешковский 1984: 245, 246)2. The most essential—constitutive (that is, foundational)—difference between the standard langu- 2 It is interesting to note that Maironis used the term literary dialect in his 1926 Short History of Universal Literature: “Over time a new dialect began to take shape among the people of Italy, separate from the Latin language and divided into many dialects. From this multitude of dialects, in time, the most popular and sweetest-sounding Tuscan dialect of Florence gained ascendancy; from the thirteenth century it became literary.” Maironis. Raštai 3 (2), Vilnius, 1992, 294 (see S. Keinys. – Terminologija 9, 2002, 37). 16 Peshkovsky regards the difference between language and dialects as “the speaker’s aspiration to regulate their language in one way or another, to speak not plainly, but in some particular way” (Пешковский 1984: 241), whereas a dialect speaker does not even get “the very idea that one can speak differently” (Пешковский 1984: 241). Thus, the question of clarity of language immediately comes sharply to the fore. Of course, it matters even to a savage, but unclear speech seems simply abnormal to them, whereas here “everyone, always and everywhere, speaks more or less incomprehensibly” (Пешковский 1984: 244). For culture is always creating and interpreting something: “how many people in science, poetry, philosophy, and religion are engaged in interpreting the thoughts of others exclusively—thoughts sometimes expressed by their creators with seemingly classical clarity and simplicity, yet nevertheless giving rise to numerous doctrines, sects, movements, schools, and so on” (Пешковский 1984: 244). Thus, the issue of clarity in the standard language arises from the difficulty of understanding what is created: “difficulty of comprehension is an indispensable companion to literary-cultural speech. Savages simply ‘speak,’ while we are always ‘trying’ to say something. Like blind people, we reach out into the air, searching for one another. Each person always understands only their own speech to some extent. This creates a much greater need for literary dialect” (Пешковский 1984: 244). The standard language differs fundamentally from living, dialogic speech in the nature of communication as well: “the difficulty of linguistic communication increases in direct proportion to the number of people communicating, and where one of the communicating parties is an undefined set, that difficulty reaches its maximum” (Пешковский 1984: 246). Therefore, one must learn to speak the standard language in order to be understood. “The ability to speak is the lubricant essential to every cultural-state machine” (Пешковский 1984: 246). Peshkovsky concludes by summarizing: the standard language is “language squared, cultivated as a special art, as regulated language”; hence even “a cult of the word, a cult of the ability to speak, arises” (Пешковский 1984: 246). Before turning to the normativity and stability of the standard language, we must discuss its formation, since these essential properties of the standard language do not emerge all at once and become established fully at every level. The formation and growth of the standard language are highly complex, but two major internal processes can be distinguished, united by one word—elimination: the elimination of excess, that is, separation from 17 services, and the remedying of deficiencies, that is, the creation and borrowing of new words. Most unnecessary phonetic, stress, and grammatical services, including those that are not even adapted, become apparent relatively quickly and are eliminated in a single act—for example, Jablonskis’s grammar—but dialect habits are not abandoned so quickly, and the skills of the standard language develop even more slowly. Vocabulary is an entirely different pole of language, most closely connected with its content: here, excess must first be sensed and understood; then follow numerous long-term, often protracted (and sometimes interrupted) processes and sub-processes of relinquishment (often also of the differentiation of a phenomenon). The creator of botanical terminology, Povilas Matulionis, understood this lexical matter very well and dealt with it appropriately as early as 1906. He sought to ensure that “the multitude of contradictions might be reduced; living speech, and even more often written works, frequently name 2–3 entirely different plants with a single word, and conversely, one plant has several names. – In such cases I have set apart only those names that are either more widely remembered, or more accurately express the plant’s properties, or are of older origin, or are more firmly attested in the languages of our neighbouring peoples: Latvian, Polish, Russian” (Povilas Matulionis. Žolynas. Lietuvos augalų žodynas ir augalų taislas, Vilnius, 1906–1907, 3). It should be said that this process on a mass scale was fairly rapid and has almost ended long ago; only a few difficult matters remain, and perhaps, under the conditions of reborn Lithuania, something else is stirring a little. Remedying deficiencies is an uninterrupted process not only in the formation of the standard language but also in its continual growth. It should not be forgotten that at the very beginning even sounds were borrowed (f, ch, h), as were derivational morphemes (eks-, anti-, and so on), not to mention lexemes. But at the beginning, the creation of new words was especially rapid and vigorous, though by no means always successful. Suffice it to say that even Jablonskis’s best balance was 610 (accepted): 470 (not accepted) new words, most often coinages (Piročkinas 2000: 6). And it was precisely this king of neologism-making who firmly opposed the mass replacement of international words with unsuccessful coinages, churned out wholesale by non-professional language purists. It should be added that, after the fall of Sovietization, some people found themselves reverting to long-outdated įtekmės, įsravos, while others felt the urge once again to Lithuanize everything (filtrą, stabilizatorių, and so on). It is regrettable that the otherwise timely “Procedure for Replacing Foreign Words with Lithuanian Equivalents,” approved by the Government on 2000-11-06, is merely a procedure, rather than a theoretically well-founded and methodologically defined programme that 18 everyone could follow, and not only the staff implementers appointed under that procedure. Now, when at least 7 out of 10 new words are terms, the creation and standardization of terms—especially their consideration and approval—has been entrusted to the State Commission of the Lithuanian Language and its Subcommission on Terminology; this is highly significant, since it determines the fate of the language as a whole. It goes without saying that within the process of remedying deficiencies there is also a process of eliminating an excess of coinages or borrowings (international words), although the choice of coinages is sometimes not merely small but lacking altogether. The immense difficulties of linguistic incomprehensibility and selection that weighed upon the beginnings of the standard language can be seen quite clearly in a booklet published in Tilsit in 1907—Svetimų ir nesuprantamų žodžių žodynėlis. Skaitytojams palengvinimas (compiled by Jurgis Šlapelis). Of its approximately 3,000 words, about half are international words explained, while the other half are barbarisms and equally incomprehensible Lithuanian words, also explained, sometimes even by means of barbarisms; for example: skeletas (Greek)—bones arranged as they stood in a living body, griaučiai, giltinė; griaučiai—bones, skeleton, giltinė; arenda (Latin)—rent, hiring; nuoma—arenda (Latin), aranda, runda. So much has already been written and fine-grained about the standard-language norm that one’s head sometimes spins. Without intending to pose lengthy puzzles, the author first offers one of the simplest definitions of the norm: “By n o r m, or the l e v e l o f t h e n o r m, we understand the totality of linguistic habits and rules of social language use that have developed in a particular society and a particular epoch” (Степанов 1966: 99). F. de Saussure briefly remarked on the stability of an established standard language: it “tends to remain identical to itself; its dependence on writing gives it even greater stability” (Cocciop 1977: 173). A. Peshkovsky discusses the normativity, conservatism, and stability of the standard language. “Normativity is characteristic of living (natural) language too, but there it is never necessary to demand it, and one does not even happen to think about it” (Пешковский 1984: 244). The most significant feature of the ideal of a standard language is conservatism—it gives it particular stability (Пешковский 1984: 242). It connects centuries and generations, and the nation—even territorially; it also affects dialects, leveling them and 19 sulaikydamas jų tolesnį skaidymąsi (Пешковский 1984: 243). „Kalboje „viskas teka“, o literatūrinėje tarmėje ta tėkmė užtverta normatyviojo konservatizmo užtvanka taip, kad kalbos upė virsta vos ne dirbtiniu ežeru“ (Пешковский 1984: 242). In his 1958 book “Synchrony, Diachrony and History,” Eugenio Coseriu also discusses linguistic competence: “for every speaker, language is the ability to speak, the understanding of how people speak in a particular society and according to a particular tradition” (Coseriu 1963: 176). Coseriu strongly emphasizes the social and evaluative aspects of competence and learning: “Since language is a ‘skill, competence,’ language is learned from those who ‘speak better,’ from those who know how (or are considered to know how), and not from those who do not. When listening, one always compares one’s own linguistic skills with those of the speaker, although most often this is done directly and unconsciously, and one tends to adopt the speaker’s manner if one acknowledges the speaker’s cultural superiority or doubts the perfection of one’s own skills” (Coseriu 1963: 197–198). Most significant is Coseriu’s distinction (dichotomy) between system and norm, which has provoked much response throughout the world and here at home: “The issue is the distinction between types of speech structures, namely between general (traditional) and functional (distinctive) structures” (Coseriu 1963: 172). Or: “It is important to distinguish the structures that make up a language—what is normal, or common (norma), and what is functional as opposition (sistema)” (Coseriu 1963: 173). In a certain sense, the norm is broader than the system, since it has many features that are irrelevant to the system; in another sense, the norm is narrower than the system, since it involves selection among the possible realizations permitted by the system—that is, the norm is a kind of equilibrium: external (social, territorial) and internal—between combinatorial and distributional variants (“normal invariants”) and between various systemically isofunctional means (Coseriu 1963: 174). Coseriu’s final conclusion is: “The norm that expresses the equilibrium of the system may be called a functional norm” (Coseriu 1963: 174), but such a functional language is not the same as a historically concrete language (say, Spanish)—the latter may encompass not only several norms but also several systems, so that language as a whole is an “archisystem” (Coseriu 1963: 175). What follows from this distinction and from the norm? “Knowledge of the norm signifies a higher level of culture” (Coseriu 1963: 236–237)—the user of the norm knows not only what is possible, but also how people actually speak (Coseriu 1963: 237). 20 Not all norms are alike. A distinction is made between realized (implemented) and realizable (implementable), or potential, norms; the latter have two further subtypes—innovations that are becoming norms and the sphere of linguistic activity that is in principle uncodifiable: individualisms, occasionalisms, etc. (Скворцов 1984: 18). The realizable norm is determined not only by the system but also by the realized norm—it must be compatible with it (Скворцов 1984: 18). It is also called the “creative norm” (Скворцов 1984: 34). The “emergent norm” is somewhat different: the term emphasizes its spontaneous character. “Necessary” changes occur at weak points in the system—leveling or simplification of the system. Recommending an emergent norm requires two conditions: systemic determination and widespread use, although in the presence of a strong cultural norm, an imbalance may persist for a long time (Скворцов 1984: 35). The concept of codification of language norms (literally, putting into a book: Latin codex—book) has already become sufficiently established in scholarly usage. However, the content of the concept is likewise not uniform, and the assessment of codification itself is not unequivocal. In general, one can codify what exists, not the examples and rules one aspires to. But the dual nature of the norm also entails a dual nature of codification. Thus Lev Skvortsov also divides codified norms into imperative (mandatory) and dispositive (supplementary) ones. Imperative norms are necessary realizations arising from the possibilities of the structure; violating them takes one beyond the bounds of the native language (in other words, these are not merely violations of norms but also language errors). Dispositive norms are recommendations based on structure or usage; they are continually refined and, when necessary, changed or rejected (Скворцов 1984: 19). Codification is scholarly (normative dictionaries, normative grammars, textbooks, etc.) and official (decisions of commissions, committees, and the like) (Скворцов 1984: 20). In the subsequent theoretical perspective, and in connection with the accelerating change in norms, a dynamic conception of the norm emerged—not only the reproduction of the system’s realized possibilities but also the creation of linguistic facts oriented toward the system and realized examples (Скворцов 1984: 23). The changes in norms and codifications are also associated with two extremes of these processes: purism (emotional, logical, ideological, etc.) and nihilistic anti-normalization (sometimes called anti-codification). The culture of language, 21 formerly a subject of didactics, is becoming a theoretical scientific problem as well. Variants and errors most require scholarly linguistic analysis, especially the contradictions and conflicts between objective usage and subjectively oriented normalization (the codification of norms). In the domain of variants, the most important distinction is between normative and non-normative variants, and the norm should be changed only through variants of the norm. In connection with variation, the principle of communicative expediency also emerged—the second, external regulator. The first—the norm—operates within the bounds of linguistic structure; the second—expediency—arises from the relations and connections between language and reality, and language and consciousness. The principle of expediency is applied chiefly to lexicon, but even here its flexible recommendations may conflict with strict normative requirements. Only in stylistics does expediency prevail (Скворцов 1984: 30–36). IV. Having clarified the boundary of the standard language (and the boundless—shared with dialects—level), its historical and temporal boundaries, and the boundaries between system and norm and between norm and codification, many boundaries still remain. Although this is a fairly broad topic, the other boundaries are touched upon here only in the most general terms. We begin with the external ones. The territorial boundaries of the Lithuanian standard language are Lithuania. This is also supported by the State Language Law. The geographical limits of the standard language should be understood somewhat differently: the places where only or mainly the standard language is used—state administration and government institutions, the education system, cultural institutions, the media, and literature. It would be impossible to claim that in the capital, Vilnius, and the former provisional capital, Kaunas, Lithuanian is used exclusively in its standard form at all times (although the speakers themselves might think so). In Lithuanian areas beyond the ethnic homeland, the standard language is more constrained by limited opportunities for education and the press, which are often more extensive among Lithuanians abroad. Some imagine the quantitative limits of the standard language to be absolute—4–2.5 million. Where in the world is that the case? Diglossia would disappear, and dialects would truly vanish. First, an appropriate level of literacy would need to be achieved. Here it is important to distinguish clearly between the ability to write and speak the standard language and passive knowledge of it—the ability to understand it better or less well. Overall, knowledge of the Lithuanian standard language among Lithuania’s non-Lithuanian-speaking population is quite attainable, though it varies: it is much better among long-established, traditional non-Lithuanian speakers and among the younger generation as a whole. From the Soviet period, Lithuania retained national 22 minority schools, but this situation is being modified by non-Lithuanian speakers’ own attitudes—a considerable number of children attend Lithuanian-language schools. The qualitative boundaries are fairly clear: I—the stages of development: inception, beginnings, growth, maturity (possibly degeneration); II—degrees of proficiency: 1) poor—with major disruptions to the system, 2) satisfactory—without major language errors, 3) good—without significant violations of norms, and 4) exemplary. The humanities intelligentsia speaks well or satisfactorily, others satisfactorily or unsatisfactorily, and the elite ranges from exemplary to the very poorest level (a large proportion). A retreat from the standard language is even observable, though less often toward dialects,... There are also boundaries or proportions among the substantive components of language. We should try to clarify the past, present, and reasonable future limits of the standard language’s popular and bookish character, its Lithuanian character (purity) and foreignness, or the partial instance of the latter—internationalism. I would venture to think that bookishness in bureaucratic and especially academic style exceeds the limit to some degree; bookishness where it does not belong (in journalistic style, and even in literary and colloquial styles) is terrible, while purity is becoming as scarce as air—some Anglicisms (lizingas and the like) are not even being kept at bay, and some international words are used barbarously (the usage center is “Akropolis”). It should be said that functional boundaries—those of styles and substyles—and the boundaries between general and special norms do not entirely coincide. The general norm seems a more precise concept than neutral usage. A special norm may belong not to one style alone but be shared by several closely related styles (academic and bureaucratic, literary and journalistic, literary and colloquial). The term partial norm may imply some freedom from normativity and should therefore be used cautiously. If there is a special function, there is also a special norm. Boundaries of this kind in the Lithuanian standard language became established fairly rapidly and are quite clear (some are even statistically supported), but they also change. Our young (though mature) academic style is sometimes old-maidishly dry and boring, at times somewhat bureaucratic (mokslakalbė!..); journalistic style sometimes moves away from literary style and likewise becomes rather heavy and awkward, or—conversely—spineless, full of empty flourishes. Boundaries mean stasis and stability. If a boundary is taking shape, it is a sign of growth, creativity, and development; if it is clear and firm, it indicates maturity and stability; if it becomes unclear, that is a sign that something new is emerging—this is dynamics: 23 A distinguishing boundary becomes a transitional zone; then the boundary may disappear, shift, extend, and so on. Dynamism is just as normal and necessary a feature of language life: “In some cases, fluctuations that objectively exist in the language may be normative. The norm is then the boundary of these fluctuations” (Щерба 1974: 36). Of course, if such uncertainty persists, stagnation or even disorder may set in. The development of the Lithuanian standard language has had so many twists and turns, crossroads, bilingualisms, and shifts among variants, and so few straight stretches, that one can only marvel and rejoice that this highest form of the language has attained such differentiation, distinctiveness, and clear boundaries that borderlands, outlying areas, and dividing—transitional zones are not very frightening. The challenges of life in the free space of the European Union will, of course, be a decisive test for the young, though considerably mature, Lithuanian standard language and will demand even greater efforts. Yet we are no longer afraid to say the words of Horace: — — — if it so wishes Usage, since it is the language’s highest authority Let us not forget: Horace is a poet of the golden age. And let us remember: the standard language is a creation, and so is usage—a c r e a t i o n. Many of the things said here are not new in themselves, although almost every one of them could still be studied extensively. But scholarship is not scholarship for its own sake—what has been sought here is a certain propaedeutic: what every language norm-setter, terminology creator, and language-culture worker must keep in mind continually and feel keenly. And none of them should fear their fate, aptly described by A. Pieškovskis: “the spontaneity of linguistic phenomena is difficult to reconcile with individual interference and always gives it the appearance of Don Quixotism” (Пешковский 1984: 248). Don Quixote’s aims are noble, necessary, and eternal. LITERATŪRA B a l č i k o n i s J. 1978: Rinktiniai raštai 1, Vilnius. C o s e r i u E. 1963: Синхрония, диахрония и история. – Новое в лингвистике 3, Москва, 143–343. D u b o n i s A. 2002: Lietuvių kalba: poreikis ir vartojimo mastai (XV a. antra pusė – XVI a. pirma pusė). – Naujasis židinys–Aidai 9–10, 473–478. П е ш к о в с к и й А. М. 1984: Объективная и нормативная точка зрения на 24 язык. – Основы культуры речи. Хрестоматия, Москва, 238–249. Piročkinas A. 2000: Jonas Jablonskis – naujų žodžių kūrėjas. – Gimtasis žodis 10, 2–6. Скворцов Л. И. 1984: Актуальные теоретические проблемы культуры речи. – Основы культуры речи. Хрестоматия, Москва, 5–42. Соссюр Ф. де 1977: Курс общей лингвистики. – Соссюр Ф. де. Труды по языкознанию, Москва, 31–273. Степанов Ю. С. 1966: Основы языкознания, Москва. Щерба Л. В. 1974: О трояком аспекте языковых явлений и об эксперименте в языкознании. – Щерба Л. В. Языковая система и речевая деятельность, Ленинград, 24–39. STANDARD LITHUANIAN LANGUAGE: LIMITS AND LIMITLESSNESS, SYSTEM, NORM AND CODIFICATION Summary The standard language to some extent dissociated from dialects, but a commonality also exists. The layer of common systematic traits is quite thick, although systematic and especially numerous, solitary differences are noticeable. The start of the process of dissociation of standard language from dialects is the appearance of writing and books (the first appearance in Lithuania – 1547). The role of the State and the Church (conversion to Christianity) in this process is very important. First of all, Lithuanian became a language of the church (after conversion to Christianity in 1387). However Lithuania used other official languages, then it lost its statehood (1795), and Lithuanian became the state language only in 1922. In soviet times its rights were restricted again. Written Lithuanian is quite old, but the new standard language, especially its scientific style and terminology are rather young. However, norms of the written and spoken standard language and of its functional styles are already quite well settled and codified. The codification of the Lithuanian language is scientific (of the good theoretical level) and official. The State Lithuanian Language Commission is responsible for the status of the state language and the main issues of its codification. After many twists and turns of history, bilingualism and changes of versions of the written language, the highest form of the language has been achieved – a mature, stable and differentiated standard language. The challenges of the living in EU will be the decisive test and will demand an even bigger effort. Jonas KLIMAVIČIUS Lietuvių kalbos institutas P. Vileišio g. 5, LT-2055 Vilnius E. paštas [email protected] Gauta 2002-10-25 25