ACTA LINGUISTICA LITHUANICA

L (2004), 139 – 147

REVIEWS

Reviews

DICTIONARY OF THE ZANAVYKAI DIALECT I, A–K. TEXT AUTHORS JANINA ŠVAMBARYTĖ, GIEDRĖ ČEPAITIENĖ. EDITORS ALDONAS PUPKIS (EDITOR-IN-CHIEF), KLEMENTINA VOSYLYTĖ.

Vilnius: Mokslo ir enciklopedijų leidybos institutas, 2003, 830 p., ISBN 5-420-01504-8 (1 tomas), ISBN 5-420-01505-6 (bendras).

Our old writings and dialects, as Juozas Balčikonis taught, are the most important material for various studies, judgments, and deliberations. This was the aim of the Dictionary of the Lithuanian Language (LKŽ)—to include almost all the material; this is also emphasized in the work of many researchers.

Alongside the LKŽ, dialect dictionaries also began to appear. One of the largest is Dictionary of the Zanavykai Dialect, whose first volume appeared in 2003 (text authors Janina Švambarytė and Giedrė Čepaitienė; editors Aldonas Pupkis and Klementina Vosylutė). The material was collected by a large group of cultural workers, especially students of Lithuanian studies—a considerable community of idealistic people who enthusiastically gathered the dialect’s vocabulary and drew up the dictionary’s plan. Many people who still retained the dialect were interviewed, although things recently foreign to the Zanavykai dialects are now pressing into them: the suffix -ininkas instead of -inyko, and the stress pattern of passive past simple participles padirbti, paleisti (stress class 1) shifting to the third stress paradigm (padirbti, paleisti, etc.). It is strange that in Žvirgždaičiai, Bajoraičiai, and Keturnaūjiena, no marked fronting of stressed e was noted (sę.n'is, m'ė.t'ę, etc.; in 1954 this was the norm here). The dialects are changing rapidly; collectivization, land reclamation, and the loss of land have eliminated the strong village communities that were able to pass the dialect system from one generation to the next. Vocabulary, too, changes greatly: the old is diminishing, while print and television are driving much out of use.

The LKŽ provided much material for this dictionary (vocabulary is a mobile stratum of language), but that work was compiled differently: forms were merely transposed, and the morphology of the dialects was often altered. This makes the dictionary rather varied and heterogeneous. Alongside transcribed sentences recorded recently, and data from Antanas Tatarė dating back centuries but now rendered in standard language, there are sentences composed of standard-language words and one or another dialect word: most often, only the suffix -ininkas, -ė was given instead of -inyko, -ės; the prefixes nuo-, prie-, są-, už- obscured the dialectal nū-, pry-, sū-, až-, žū-, and so on, and standard-language forms were selected. (Later, from Volume V, and especially from Volume XI onward, the situation was corrected. Efforts were made to present dialectal forms in transposed form, according to the correspondences between standard-language sounds and dialect sounds.)

The source of a dialect (subdialect) dictionary is the people of a particular region, locality, or even village, born, raised, and speaking there in a historically formed dialect characterized by a particular system of phonetics, morphology, syntax, and vocabulary. In compiling a dialect dictionary on this basis, one

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automatically selects random things: the standard-language system heard on the radio, in the theater, or through other channels of the standard language and lodged in people’s minds, as well as individual elements of that system. If one relies on all the inhabitants of the region, whoever they are and however they speak, the result is a different type of dictionary—perhaps some sociological dictionaries, or dictionaries that should be called something else.

Dictionary of the Zanavykai Subdialect is a somewhat unexpected type of lexical collection. Usually, lexicographers around the world compile comprehensive dictionaries, dictionaries of differences (differential dictionaries), and even dictionaries of a single village or an individual. In this case, the aim was to delve not only into the recorded vocabulary of the subdialect, but also to include examples from the writings of writers and cultural figures of the region, as well as material from other linguistic works (abundantly from LKŽ). Much effort has been made, but there are also some shadows, since a writer could hardly rely, or can rely, solely on their own subdialect: they know how to borrow something from both the standard language and other dialects, and their work may have been corrected by a publisher or editor, with something inserted into it.

Alongside Antanas Tatarė, Juozas Lozoraitis, Albinas Bernotas, Petronėlė Orintaitė, and others, there are no examples from the writings of Jonas Jablonskis (although he often marked sentences and individual words with the abbreviation Rg = Rýgiškiai, the dialect on which he based the entire foundation of the standard language). This is especially unexpected.

Sometimes, owing to circumstances surrounding publication, entirely unforeseen things happen. The words dovenà, dovenót Bs were probably taken from American print by Samogitian workers; ãpmaudas Bs may have appeared in the same way. Words may have come from Samogitian through Petronėlė Orintaitė, who lived among them for decades: apveidùs, -ì ‘beautiful’, atminàis ‘from time to time’, it (p. 163); the form budynių ‘funeral wake’ (p. 393); garankštis ‘wrinkle’. The Eastern Lithuanian atgóžt in Orintaitė’s writings becomes atgõžti. The writer’s coinages atgyna ‘defense’, atgoda ‘rest’ have also found their way into this dictionary, apparently without good reason; the same is probably true of kiaurameigis ‘shallow sleep’, and even atkeleivis ‘newcomer’, and the like. Pranas Vaičaitis, too, borrowed words from other dialects, for example: atžūlas (from Samogitian), atpėnė ‘again’, and the like.

Dialectologists, lexicographers, and ethnographers will find much important material here (presented in simplified transcription). The headwords are transposed according to the sound correspondences in standard language. Why should the distinguished linguists of this region—Aldonas Pupkis, Giedrė Čepaitienė, Vilija Sakalauskienė, Arvydas Vidžiūnas, the late Juozas Pikčilingis, Jonas Jurevičius, and dozens of others—not be allowed to do so, unless the forms dirbt, gílt, gùndyt, gùrktelt (= dirbti, gilti, gundyti, gūrktelti); jùngas, kùisla (= jùngas, kùisla) had unexpectedly appeared in a standard-language text, and so on? It is questionable whether this traditional accentuation, taken precisely from the Zanavykai and Prussian Lithuanian dialects and established in our linguistics since the time of Frydrichas Kuršaitis, needed to be changed here (the marking of noun and pronoun accent paradigms is sometimes quite shaky). Oddly, the text has infinitives in -ti, but the headwords are forms that have undergone phonetic truncation of short endings, for example: pabambėt → in the text pabambė·ti (p. 107), bárti → bá·rti (p. 115), bijót → bijó·ti (p. 136), bráižyt → brá·iži·ti (p. 163), dirbt → dîrpti (p. 288), girdėt → girdė·ti (p. 393), and so on.

Every published dialect text, dictionary, or word list has some significance for the history of language (even Vitas Labutis’s flawed and uncertain-in-type, scientifically unreliable Dictionary of the Daukšiai Dialect, 2003), because the years steadily erode dialect vocabulary and morphology. Such a large work in several volumes, prepared by a dozen or so eminent linguists, arouses interest: it will be used as a reference, facts will be sought for research, and material will be copied into future volumes of the LKŽ. The penetration of new things into dialects is strongly brought out—words audrà, abstinėtas, džėntelmenas, motìnìs, -ė, ìtaka, ìtampa, asmùo, atàskaitinis, etnogrãfinis, and even changes in the meanings and forms of “newcomers,” for instance: evakúot ‘to move’ the Russians came / evakã·vo ji· kliùona;

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gradirúot ‘to level a road’, kaprýzas ‘quarrel’: kapriˈzas išėˈju (between the two of them); kapelà ‘company’: visi jie kapelà čė atvažˈuodavu…; kapituliúoti ‘to end’: kàˈras kapitùlˈėˈvu¹ and so on.

The dictionary’s authors wanted to record the words used by all the inhabitants of the dialect area (in their terminology, the šnektos, or subdialect) in their entirety, and therefore recorded and presented as dialect (subdialect) facts such professional terms as Ainõsius (p. 21), whereas Kaipošiaus is absent (it is a proper name, not the subject of that work); ákcentas, akcentúot, tragedija (p. 28), aktorysťà (p. 30), the stribai’s bajávas², baráklas, bérmontininkas, blátas, blátytis, -inasi, -inosi, bulánas ‘ulon’, dragūnas ‘a certain kind of soldier’, dramblys ‘trunked mammal’, kàimo krònika (p. 339), džiunglės ‘dense forest’, džiunglynas ‘same’, jakta (p. 365), gydykla ‘medical treatment facility’, gladijòlas ‘gladiolus, a kind of flower’, gramátika, gramátiškas, išdáidis ‘the exclamation mark, a grammatical sign’ (a coinage by Antanas Tatarė), the expression òpera- vaidino (p. 561), naujágimis ‘newly delivered (of an animal)’, slang joptvajūkas ‘a certain garment’, kibinìmat ‘a certain military curse word’³, patárliu (p. 651), the atheists’ kirkė ‘Protestant church’ (until 1979–1984, when I had occasion to visit that region, it was only ó-kˈieču- baˈžˈnˈčie), kokliétas ‘cutlet’, kòsmosas ‘spaceship’, kumpánija ‘bùrvs, company’, and so on. Apparently, in this case no effort was made to determine what a “dialect word” is: surely it is an inherited word, used by at least several generations and still in use, whereas professional terms (for example, the words eiguljà, eiguvà, used in this region as well as in standard language, and others) are the subject of sociology, facts of speech rather than of a subdialect (as speakers become more proficient in standard-language forms of international words, they use them with increasing correctness; for example, the Žemaitian forms l'ep'etùor'ije KrŠ, KRTV, l'ep'etùorėje TrŠ, PvN ‘outpatient clinic’ disappeared without a trace)—these are ephemeral words, which were recorded neither in the volumes of LKŽ edited by J. Balčikonis nor in the last ones (volumes XV to XX). The question of how standard-language words combine in dialects should be investigated separately.

Kazimieras Būga observed in 1920 that when Lithuanians adopt a new Lithuanian word for use, they often change its pitch accent and stress placement (see K. Būga, Rinktiniai raštai III 784–789). If any dialects use some of these altered forms, the concluding volumes of LKŽ (XV–XX) introduced the abbreviation “nj.” to indicate that dialect examples are recent. This was especially necessary here, so that younger researchers in language history and foreigners would not draw far-reaching conclusions from certain words. (In autumn 1954, Juozas Balčikonis rejected the word audrà from the author of these lines, since it was a form only “5–10 years old,” picked up from radio and schools.) We find quite a few such forms here, without any note, as though they had been used since time immemorial. One such form is ydà (2); so too is ilgáiniui, adopted from Žemaitian (ilgáiniui), picked up by users of the standard language with altered stress and then introduced among the Zanavykai (and the Kapsai); likewise kainà (more often declension class 4 than 3 among those who have recently learned it), speigas (standard language) (p. 38), and speigas in many subdialects of northern Lithuania. It is difficult to accept the stress pattern of the words gyvulys, gyvulio (³ᵇ), whereas throughout Lithuania the singular genitive is gyvùlio, gyvólio; the same applies to the stress pattern of mókýtojas (mókau juk, ne mokáu!) throughout the dictionary.

The Zanavykai extend the falling pitch accent across both elements of diphthongs and mixed diphthongs. An exception is made for ie, uo: diẽną ~ diẽną, guõlis, guõst, the coinage gurguõlė (from the postwar obligation to deliver goods in bulk), kiẽmas, and so on. The more emphatic, more prominent stress of these diphthongs does not indicate such an exception.

¹ Although many lexicographers consider distorted use of international words to fall outside the scope of dialectologists (see Филин Ф. П., Проект Словаря русских народных говоров, Москва–Ленинград, 1961, 34).

² Jonas Kabelka spoke at length about this during a radio language segment in 1959.

³ Their young men brought back from the Soviet army a fair variety of former officers’ expressions, which can still be heard on city streets today.

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There is one more uncertainty. A declension class is often given, but the word’s entry does not show it; it is merely, as it were, the authors’ assertion: akuotas (1, 3)—the text gives only the singular nominative; árdas (3)—this too is not evident from the text; the same goes for atejūnas (1), gaidras (2), while gandrai is asserted (p. 71); bačkà (2) is hard to determine; bilietas (3ᵇ) is unsupported; likewise biragas (3ᵇ), brūzgas (4), daigas (4); dáiktas (1)—the singular locative does not show this; the same is true of dárbas (1); a two-syllable noun, inkstas, cannot possibly belong to stress class 3ᵇ (a feature of polysyllabic nominal words).

The Zanavykai are generally exemplary preservers of stress, and we see this quite well here too. This is one of the book’s merits. Of course, in such a large work, with various word collectors and many people from other dialect areas involved, some things may not have been heard or recorded correctly, especially now that our stress system is weakening. Researchers need only pay attention to one or two things: there are questionable pitch-accent and stress-class assignments that stand out sharply from those in all scholarly publications.

The following words should be corrected: bėgimas (twice, p. 11), aikštùs, -i (2) = (4), ákmenis (3ᵇ) is not possible—this is some kind of mixed paradigm (p. 28), albskis (4) = (2), alýtnamis (a ceremonial word) = alýtnamis (cf. alýtinė in the same entry), amžinybė (1) = (2), nuódi·tis = nuódytis (p. 39), anklodė (2) = (1), ankstybis, -ė (2) adjective (p. 21), though the sentence correctly gives: anksti·bės jau každavų (p. 43), ankštiras, left without a stress-class label, though it should be class 2; antvógis should likewise be class 1; atbulinis (1) = (2), atsākantis (1)—participles do not have stress classes; áudeklinis, -ė (1) = audeklinis (2)—a student invention; aviėnis (1) = (2), balamūtinimas Bs (1)—without stress (where did that stress class come from?); bambókas (1) = (2), bereikalas (1) = (3ᵇ), bešeimis (3) = (2), bezdamóji (4)—pronominal forms do not have stress-class numbers; blindė (4) = (2), bóružė (2) = (1), brūnis (4) = (2), buožgálvis (2) = (1), bužis (4) = (2), čariškas (3ᵇ) = (1), dáiktarė (3ᵇ) = (1), daugybė (1) = (2), dėkaut = dėkauti, dešimtinė (1) = (2), dievinis, -ė (4) = (2), duóklė (2) = dioklė (2), diùpkė = (2), divėrinis (2) = (1), viešulas = viešulas (3ᵃ) (p. 363), ni'kėva = ni'kėva (p. 377), elskis (1) = (2), gárga, but niùgarga is not very convincing (there is no example either), gárma—but išgárma, nigárma, prágarma, prīgárma are not attested in sentences (concocted at the table); geležinkrovė (4) = (1), geriantys, -i (3ᵇ)—participles do not have numbered stress classes, genybė (1) = (2), gėrkle = gėrkle (p. 437), giriñalovė (1) = girna-lo·vė, gýslė (2) = (1), apsikrė·stu· = apsikrė·stu. (p. 458), gyvis (1) = (2), gyvulė (3) = (3ᵃ), gõjus = gõjus (2), grąžinimas (2) = (1), išė·mi lá.nga = išė·me. (?), nesėmė—‘to boil’—ėmė seems unlikely (p. 546), indótai = (1), išvaizdingas (2) = išvaizdingas (1), malónės = malónės (p. 580), bijū·nai = bijūnai (p. 580), kiauldobiliai = kiaūldobiliai, galū·nes = galū·nes Šk (p. 678), klebšnys (2) = (4), milijó·na. = milijó·na. (p. 728), kubizdalis = (1), nejišro·m’i·c = nejišro·m’i·c (p. 791), kūlverščiais = kūlverščiais (p. 890).

These are certain slips—both failures to listen carefully and poor student transcriptions. What can one do? There were more of them at the beginning; as the work progressed, in the second part, they become fewer. This gives hope that the second volume will contain even fewer such blemishes, or that they will disappear altogether.

The dictionary includes coinages in Lithuanian generally, as well as specialized terms that are not inherited. Dialect examples submitted by students to their teachers also need checking, since all sorts of things used to be offered (out of sheer contrariness)⁴; Vladas Grinaveckis must therefore have recorded all sorts of things from Suvalkija students too (this is only hearsay). That is also where the genuinely Žemaitian form įkandìn (with an unusual stress) comes from, and all the

⁴ Even J. Balčikonis was given Lūkštas Lake, Varn, although only Lūkštas is correct; Veiviržà instead of the universally used Veiviržas; Ištrà, whereas the form used is Įstras; Šatrija, but the traditional form is Šatrijà, and so on (see Balčikonis, Rinktiniai raštai I, 339–347).

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Even Lithuanian, too, was turned by the students into *irgi* (“too”); here, it seems, there was no need to expand it further. The dialect form *keturpėsčia* (“on all fours”) has also been “panauninta” by the students here—*keturpėsčia*.

The dictionary’s authors alter quite a few things substantially; for example, they change all monosyllabic words with a circumflex accent to an acute accent: tuõs, šiuõs, kuriuõs, jie, tie, and so on, throughout the text. But where do įjėję, ijėjė, įjėję, juõsios come from (but also juõsius)? (See p. 569).

The junction between words is presented in a rather generalized, uniform way. In everyday speech, such junctions occur frequently: vowels and diphthongs—ai and a, e vowels—but -ai, -’ai and -u, -o do not merge: atèiv’ėi õ-k’iec’ei Žvr, acärg’ei užriek Bajoraičiai and others.

The Dictionary of the Zanavykai Dialect is significant in many respects—in its scope and its fine sentences in colloquial speech. Many people worked on it sincerely and devotedly. A lexicographer’s work is difficult and requires great care, vigilance, and perseverance. There was no permanent team of dictionary compilers; it kept changing, and the leadership changed hands, which is why there are inconsistencies. Consequently, the relevant literature has not been adequately surveyed, not even Antanas Tatarė’s hypernormalisms involving the emergence of the verb suffixes -yti and -inti (studied by Prof. Zigmas Zinkevičius⁵), and the dictionary’s introduction does not examine the matter in any depth.

Vytautas Vitkauskas

Received 2004 04 21

Institute of the Lithuanian Language

P. Vileišio St., 10308 Vilnius, Lithuania

INETA SAVICKIENĖ

THE ACQUISITION OF LITHUANIAN NOUN MORPHOLOGY

Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2003, 152 p., ISBN 3-7001-3138-0

(Publications of the Commission for Linguistics and Communication Research, 28)

The monograph under review⁶ is the very first attempt at describing the emergence of nominal grammatical categories in the speech of a Lithuanian child. Therefore it deserves particular attention and a somewhat more extensive summary, as every further study on the acquisition of nouns will have to refer to the pioneer work of Ineta Savickienė of Kaunas VDU University.

The collecting and processing of data on the acquisition of Lithuanian was initiated by Prof. Magdalena Smoczyńska (Jagellonian University, Kraków) in 1992, and it took over ten years to obtain an exhaustive description of the acquisition of morphology by one Lithuanian child⁷. Another scholar whose efforts greatly contributed to this research was Prof. Wolfgang U.

5 Zinkevičius, Z., Lietuvių kalbos istorija IV, Vilnius, 1990, 202–203 (apie matindamas ‘matydamas’, suwalginsiu ir kt.).

6 The monograph is based on the doctoral dissertation: Ineta Savickienė, Morphology of the Lithuanian Child’s Noun, Kaunas, VDU, 1999.

7 The acquisition of verbs was discussed on the basis of the same corpus of data by the author of this review (Pawel Wójcik, The Acquisition of Lithuanian Verb Morphology: A Case Study, Kraków: Universitas (Baltica Varsoviensia, 2).