Saturday, September 29, 2012

The WORD processor

The true WORD processor is history. Just look at this table from a site about how words change over time.

The historical influence of various languages in names of places and their derivations for the British Isles.
     
Source
Language
Meaning
Modern Forms
ac
Anglo-Saxon
oak
Ac-, Oak-, -ock
baile
Gaelic
farm, village
Bally-, Bal-
bearu
Anglo-Saxon
grove, wood
Barrow-, -ber
beorg
Anglo-Saxon
burial mound
Bar-, -borough
brycg
Anglo-Saxon
bridge
Brig-, -bridge
burh
Anglo-Saxon
fortified place
Bur-, -bury
burna
Anglo-Saxon
stream, spring
Bourn-, -burn(e)
by
Old Norse
farm, village
-by
caer
Welsh
fortified place
Car-
ceaster
Latin
fort, Roman town
Chester-, -caster
cot
Anglo-Saxon
shelter, cottage
-cot(e)
cwm
Welsh
deep valley
-combe
daire
Gaelic
oak wood
-dare, -derry
dalr
Old Norse
valley
Dal-, -dale
denn
Anglo-Saxon
swine pasture
-dean, -den
dun
Anglo-Saxon
hill, down
Dun-, -down, -ton
ea
Anglo-Saxon
water, river
Ya-, Ea-, -ey
eg
Anglo-Saxon
island
Ey-
ey
Old Norse
island
-ey, -ay
gleann
Gaelic
narrow valley
Glen-
graf
Anglo-Saxon
grove
-grave, -grove
ham
Anglo-Saxon
homestead, village
Ham-, -ham
hyrst
Anglo-Saxon
wooded hill
Hurst-, -hirst
-ing
Anglo-Saxon
place of ...
-ing
leah
Anglo-Saxon
glade, clearing
Leigh-, Lee-, -ley
loch
Gaelic
lake
Loch-, -loch
mere
Anglo-Saxon
lake, pool
Mer-, Mar-, -mere, more
nes
Old Norse
cape
-ness
pwll
Welsh
anchorage, pool
-pool
rhos
Welsh
moorland
Ros(s)-, -rose
stan
Anglo-Saxon
stone
Stan-, -stone
stede
Anglo-Saxon
place, site
-ste(a)d
stoc
Anglo-Saxon
meeting place
Stoke-, -stock
stow
Anglo-Saxon
meeting place
Stow-, -stow(e)
straet
Latin
Roman road
Strat-, Stret-, -street
tun
Anglo-Saxon
enclosure, village
Ton-, -town, -ton
thorp
Old Norse
farm, village
Thorp-, -thorp(e)
thveit
Old Norse
glade, clearing
-thwaite
wic
Anglo-Saxon
dwelling, farm
-wick, -wich
                                      Source: http://www.krysstal.com/wordname.html

Now this is really WORD PROCESSING, not just writing through the means of a software application, but adding instant history to the form and sound of the word, moving it backward or forward, or even sideways in an unknown turn or direction: a real turn of expression. Whether historically accurate or not, the point is that it shows not only how a language carries resources from other languages, but also how very common words and names have evolved from unfamiliar forms whose significance we wouldn't have guessed automatically. The items "brycg" or "pwll"  or "cwm" would appear senseless now, but had some meaning before. Meanings are as relative and temporary as the forms that are used to point to them. One example mentioned among many is the word silly.

“The word silly has over many centuries taken a fascinating journey through a range of evolving meanings. Silly did not originally refer to the absurd or ridiculous – in fact quite the opposite. The word derives from the old English word seely, meaning happy, blissful, lucky or blessed. From there it came to mean innocent, or deserving of compassion, only later mutating this sense of naive childishness into a more critical, mocking term, signifying ignorance, feeble-mindedness, and foolish behaviour - the meaning we know today” (http://www.bl.uk/learning/langlit/dic/oed/silly/silly.html).

The table above are instances of what has been called metaplasm, or "a change in the orthography (and hence phonology) of a word" (Wikipedia). The Greek origin is metaplasso or “to mold differently, remodel,” referring to formal changes that include processes of addition, omission, inversion, and substitution. This is a whole set of rhetorical figures!

Concerning phonetic changes, we can just mention one famous case in the history of English called "The Great Vowel Shift."

The Great Vowel Shift was a major change in the pronunciation of the English language that took place in England between 1350 and 1700. The Great Vowel Shift was first studied by Otto Jespersen (1860–1943), a Danish linguist and Anglicist, who coined the term....

This means that the vowel in the English word same was in Middle English pronounced [aː] (similar to modern psalm); the vowel in feet was [eː] (similar to modern fate); the vowel in wipe was [iː] (similar to modern weep); the vowel in boot was [oː] (similar to modern boat); and the vowel in mouse was [uː] (similar to modern moose).
 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Vowel_Shift)

These metaplasmic processes are well recognized.

"Sound change is unstoppable: All languages vary from place to place and time to time, and neither writing nor media prevent this change."
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sound_change)

Another way languages change is through the addition of new "content" like neologisms. There are a number of well-known ways a new word is created in a language (nonces, portmanteau, acronyms), but the important question I want to raise is if it is possible for language to reproduce all the sounds in the universe, or all the possible meanings in the universe. It is probably a "silly" question to ask, but we know that "nonverbal" arts like music or dance or painting or other media have always been used to speak about domains which language may not have the capacity to reproduce.

If any verbal attempt is done in this direction, many things can happen, including the risk of falling into senseless and even asemic forms. That is, language fantasies that we can all lump into a neologism or metaplasm of some sort. I am thinking of elements of Finnegan's Wake or Carroll's "Jabberwocky," or Hugo Ball and Schwitters' sound poetry, or even some pieces by Artaud. Definitely it will be a toss between metaplasm and neologism in many cases, and it will become harder and harder to separate them, except for the fact that neologisms can attain a "legitimate" current status, which current metaplasms may never get. Metaplasms usually appear in the dictionary only as historical or literary curiosities and not as currently spoken words. Not all metaplasms are created equal.

While we can say that language is incomplete in relation to what the whole of existence could offer, we may well be content with pointing out the evidence for this discrepancy by the use of neologisms (quarks, leptons, laser, etc.) or metaplasm. And whereas the former obtains lexical legitimacy by some kind of epistemic or realistic or poetic status, the latter may remain either as an echo of a search of lost meanings or as bastard forms and meanings that may or may not come. In addition, metaplasms present processes, accidental or not, that are not just formal but also material in nature. From the Buddhist AUM to the proto-languages to languages and on to sub-languages down to individual speakers and "accidents," metaplasms enact the shifts from form to form and sound to sound, laying out a whole spectrum of legitimate and intermediate, legible and illegible, or meaningful and meaningless linguistic artifacts.

The case of onomatopoeia is interesting also in this regard. I look at onomatopoeia as a kind of multimedia in lexical format. If mimicry or imitation is the absolute goal of onomatopoeia, then we can consider whole books or volumes of books to be onomatopoeic in the way they all try to represent something, even the whole world, in all its aspect. In a fictional scenario, this would mean that the best copy of the world is another world, only smaller and accessible, or manipulable, or portable, and holding no secrets. This reminds me of the "Aleph" in one of Borges' stories.

At any rate, I like the idea that in Greek, onomatopoeia actually means "making or creating names." That is WORD PROCESSING in a nutshell.

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