I found
this article fascinating; it gives good insight into a completely different morphological system, while making you wonder what speakers of the seemingly incomphrensible Chinese or Japanese languages must think about English and its own bizarre twists.
One section in particular also opened up a lot of possibilities for interesting syntactical slippage:
Thinking in yingzi
The nature of the writing system would encourage lexicographers (and English speakers) to think of everything in the language as built out of yingzi. There wouldn't seem to be a great difference between "words" like storehouse, storage, restore and "expressions" like shoe store, store up, store detective, store manager; or between blackboard and black eye, or between alphabet and alpha male.
Many morphemes that now live out a shadowy existence, forever bound to other morphemes, would take on an independent existence; for instance the volve in revolve, evolve, involve, devolve, which would have its own yingzi, and would seem as much a "word" or component of the language as the match in rematch, mismatch, unmatch. There would be a tendency to describe the meanings, vague or miscellaneous as they might be, for such characters.
This might seem sensible and even wise for a morpheme like volve, which after all derives from a real Latin root meaning roll; but there would be other, more dubious applications. For instance, the son in person was represented by [ideogram], which happens to be the yingzi for son. It will be almost impossible not to assume that person derives from son; but historically it's just a coincidence; person derives from Latin and has nothing to do with son.
Worse yet, the -cuit of biscuit and circuit might be written with the same character (a derivative of kit), and a meaning sought for it-- perhaps 'round', since biscuits are round and circuits involve going round. Again, etymologically this is nonsense.
Not just that, but once a component syllable like
-cuit got its own, semi-rigorous definition, it would start to subtly alter the definitions of the words it makes and the morphemes it's related to. After all, language is a feedback system, just like anything else. What if the
-la in
cola and
latte got tapped as a morpheme? What would happen to the definitions -- and particularly the subtle connotations -- of words like
gala and
llama?
Seems like yingzi would make it a lot easier to be a poet.
# posted by
Gerry Canavan @ 8:17 AM
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