Zhelezniak I. M., Korepanova A. P., Masenko L. T., Nepokupnyi A. P., Strizhak O. S., Franko Z. T. The Hydronymy of Ukraine in Its Interlingual and Interdialectal Connections / Ed. O. S. Strizhak. – Kyiv: Naukova Dumka, 1981. – 264 pp.

The mutual relations between languages are infinitely varied. The book under review distinguishes three principal groups of linguistic commonalities: genetic, areal (in terms of contact), and typological (p. 181). These relations can manifest themselves in many ways and aspects. One of the most natural domains in which linguistic relations and contacts are expressed is proper names, among which hydronyms occupy a special place, since they are often more archaic and therefore more informative than common vocabulary, including in chronological terms. The work under discussion once again provides striking and convincing support for this universally recognized thesis, grounded in specific research.

The appearance of this work is a major event not only in Ukrainian linguistics, but also in Slavic and Indo-European linguistics more broadly. This is so for various reasons.

To begin with, it should be noted that, from the perspective of Indo-European studies, Ukrainian hydronymy is one of the most important in the entire Slavic world, since Ukraine—especially Right-Bank Ukraine—is among the territories where the search for the Slavic homeland is most strongly justified. Consequently, Ukraine is more likely than most other Slavic lands to yield the most archaic Slavic hydronyms. Therefore, the analysis of Ukrainian hydronyms may well produce the greatest amount of new evidence to help answer a very important question in Indo-European linguistics (and thus in Slavic and Baltic studies as well): how archaic are Slavic river names, and what is their relationship to the so-called Old Indo-European hydronymy?

Elsewhere, where the Slavs are newcomers, their hydronymy will also be, in a certain sense and to a certain extent, more recent and later (except, of course, for substrate hydronymy).

Ukraine is also exceptional in that its territory has, since the most ancient times, been the site of the most varied contacts between languages and ethnic groups, of mixing, assimilation, and various other processes. These processes could not have failed to leave traces in hydronymy as well. Since deep antiquity, part of Ukraine has bordered the ancient Indo-European world—the Illyrians, Dacians, Greeks, and others. The Turks, Iranians (Scythians), Goths, Romans, perhaps even Celts, and others have left their traces here. In antiquity, Ukraine also bordered the Balts to the north, among others. Thus, the connections of the Ukrainian language, toponymy, and hydronymy in particular with numerous Indo-European and non-Indo-European languages and peoples are very ancient, extraordinarily varied, and complex.

Thus, the choice of the research subject—the connections between Ukrainian hydronymy and the water names of other peoples—seems entirely natural and understandable. It is true that investigating these connections is genuinely difficult and complex. It can be done satisfactorily only under certain conditions. First, the hydronyms of the languages in contact must have been collected and linguistically analyzed. Second, the hydronymics and onomastics more generally of these languages must have been adequately studied, and so on. These conditions are already being met, at least in part, through intensive work. Without discussing them further, let us recall that one of the most impressive works in Indo-European onomastics in recent years was prepared and published in Ukraine: the “Dictionary of Ukrainian Hydronyms”: Словник гідронімів України/ Ред. кол. А. П. Непокупний, О. С. Стрижак (заст. голови), К. К. Цілуйко (голова). – Київ: Наукова думка, 1979. – 780 с. Ukrainian onomasti-

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cs’ specialists’ works are widely known—they show that the subjective prerequisites for comprehensive study of the place-names of this region have also come into being.

The book discusses many important questions, as can readily be seen from its table of contents alone. It examines three aspects of the connections between Ukrainian hydronymy and the hydronymy of other countries: lexical, word-formational, and phonetic. The lexical connections receive the most extensive analysis, in nine substantial studies: 1) “Connections in the Earliest Onomastic Attestations”; 2) “Balkan–Ukrainian Connections and Parallels”; 3) “Baltic–Ukrainian Connections and Parallels”; 4) “Dnieper–Lechitic Connections and Parallels”; 5) “Danubian–Eastern Ukrainian and Other Connections and Parallels”; 6) “Carpathian–Eastern Ukrainian Connections and Parallels”; 7) “Ukrainian–Pavolhynian Connections and Parallels”; 8) “Ukrainian–Other East Slavic Connections and Parallels”; 9) “Turkic–Ukrainian Connections and Parallels.” Word-formational and phonetic relations are surveyed in the remaining two studies. Thus, the book consists of 11 fairly independent sections written by separate authors. It is quite incomprehensible why the authors of the sections are nowhere identified—this is a disservice not only to the authors but also to the reader. I learned indirectly that parts I and IV–VII were written by A. Strizhak, II by I. Zhelezniak, III and VIII by A. Nepokupnyi, IX by T. Masenko, X by A. Korepanova, and XI by Z. Franko. The book is therefore a collective work whose subject matter and range of topics may have depended to some degree (quite naturally), among other things, on the interests and research orientations of its authors.

The book contains an extraordinary amount of new data and information. It is very difficult for a reader to take it all in, especially since most of the articles (with the possible exception of A. Nepokupnyi’s) are written freely, in what might be called an essayistic manner. As a result, readers often have to systematize for themselves the information presented even in individual studies. This could almost entirely have been avoided if the book had included at least an index of names, vocabulary, and subject matter. Unfortunately, the book’s reference apparatus is minimal and clearly inadequate for a work of this kind.

Many parts of the book are directly or indirectly related to Baltic studies. As we have seen, one chapter of the lexical section is devoted to the connections between Ukrainian hydronymy and Baltic water names. More frequent excursions into Baltic studies occur in the chapter on word formation. In the remaining studies, facts from the Baltic languages are examined less often, and are not discussed at all where the topic does not call for it.

What follows is a brief pause to consider those matters that are more closely related to Baltic studies.

In this regard, the chapter “Baltic–Ukrainian Connections and Parallels” (written by A. Nepokupnyi) deserves the most attention. It first discusses the problem of Baltic hydronyms in Ukraine (drawing mainly on the works of V. Toporov and O. Trubachov and essentially respecting almost exclusively their view of the nature of the problem of Balticisms in Slavic languages). The author of this chapter tends to think that the term “Baltic element” (in Slavic languages) allows two possible interpretations—a narrower and a broader one. In the narrow sense, the “Baltic element” consists of Baltic relics in territories where the ancestors of today’s Balts lived in historical times, leaving not only linguistic but also archaeological and ethnographic traces. Upper Dnieper, for example, belongs here.

The “Baltic element” in the broader sense (or the “indirect Baltic element”) is one that can most effectively be explained by evidence from the Baltic languages,

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because the archaic character of the Baltic languages allows them to represent the past not only of the Baltic languages themselves but also of the Slavic languages. Such “Baltic” place names are generally unsupported by other Baltic evidence (material culture or the like). Moreover, there is no evidence that Balts ever lived in such territories. The Middle Dnieper region (e.g., the Ros’ basin) belongs to such territories — p. 66.

In the narrow sense, the author further divides the “Baltic element” into two components — old and new. The boundary separating the old relics of the Baltic languages from the new ones is supposedly the period of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. Among the old elements are, for example, the Yotvingian hydronyms of the Western Bug basin (the river Гапа, the lake Пульмо), while the new elements include such Baltisms as arose when a certain part of present-day Ukraine was incorporated into the Grand Duchy of Lithuania (e.g., the river names Гедвилів Яр, Любартіха, Литовка). The author notes that the task set out in the works of V. Toporov and O. Trubachev—to establish the southern boundary of the distribution of Baltic place names—in the case of Ukraine could in practice be accomplished only on the basis of late Baltisms.

The author then presents some 17 Ukrainian hydronyms, most of which are indisputable Baltisms: 1) Блева, Блива: cf. Latv. Blēve river, Lith. blyvas, blaivas; 2) Вангупов < *Vang-ug-: cf. Lith. vangà “soil, field,” Latv. vanga “low, wet meadow,” Old Prussian wangus “clearing” and Lith. ùpė, Latv. upe; 3) Вингул: cf. Lith. Ving-ul-upis, Ving-āl-upis, Ving-ėl-upis (from vingis “bend” and ùpė); 4) Вовчас < *Vilkėsā: cf. Lith. Vilkesā and vilkas “wolf”; 5) Гапа < *Apa: cf. Old Prussian ape “river”; 6) Гобра: cf. Lith. gūbrà, gūbrys, etc.; 7) Горинь: cf. Old Prussian Goryn, etc.; 8) Жиргань: cf. Lith. Žirg-upė, Žirg-upis and žirgas “horse” (there is no need here to mention the river name Žirginės—it is secondary, taken from the meadow name Žirginės; the meadow name Žirginės may derive not from žirgas but from žirginys “a cone-like cluster of alder or birch seeds”); 9) Жовенка: cf. Lith. Žuvinė, žuvis “fish”; 10) Жукля: cf. Lith. Žukliai village, Žuklijai, žūklė “fishing” (one could also mention, for instance, the Žuklija meadow in Kapsukas district, and others); 10) Коровель: cf. Lith. Karvėl-upis, karvėlis; 12) Круплинь: cf. Lith. krūpė “toad”; 13) Седра: cf. the name Sidra, a tributary of the Beržė, the lake Sedranki, etc. (both from former Baltic territories); 14) Сертея < *Sertēja: cf. Lith. Sert-upis, Sartė, etc.; 15) Скоропичка — probably from *Skar-ap-: cf. Old Prussian Skara, Latv. Skar-upe, etc.; 16) Стерковое lake: cf. Lith. Starkė river and starkas, Latv. starks, Old Prussian starkis “zander”; 17) Упа (from which the name Упск for the former Lithuanian settlements on the Dnieper derives): cf. Lith. ùpė.

The interpretation of these Baltisms, especially their chronology, is not always equally clear. In certain cases, they may indeed be late Baltisms, which arose during the period of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania (the author includes *Упа: Упск and Палесье Вупло < *Upelė, among others, in this group). But some of them may also date from a much earlier period.

This chapter discusses another group of toponyms—compound place names with a syncopated vowel u in the second component. That second component would derive from -up-: Lith. ùpė.

1) Верпа < *Ver-up-: cf. Lith. Ver-upė; 2) Wolpys < *Val-up-: cf. Lith. Vāl-upis; 3) Восин < *Uos-up-in-: cf. Lith. Ūos-upis (the river name Vosupis, cited by A. Nepokupno in his article on the basis of K. Būga, is only a dialectal or somewhat distorted

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form of Ūosupis); 4) Сарпинское < *Sar-up-in-: cf. Old Prussian Sar-ape, Latvian Sar-upji; 5) Скепка < *Skir-up-: cf. Lithuanian Skir-upis.

As can be seen, the chapter presents many new facts about Baltic place names in Ukraine. There is therefore no doubt that this study should be regarded as one of the most substantial recent works helping to trace the southeastern boundary of the area of Baltic toponymy.

The Baltic studies discussed in the other chapters are no longer the direct object of investigation, but are used for comparison, illustration, to support arguments about the origins of particular hydronyms, and the like. Baltic, especially Lithuanian, hydronymic parallels are used somewhat more frequently in the chapter “Word Formation” (written by A. Korepanova). Throughout the book, facts from the Baltic languages are cited or interpreted with considerable precision. This applies above all to the chapter on Baltic–Ukrainian hydronymic parallels written by A. Nepokupno. Of course, inaccuracies, oversights, and errors do occur. What stands out most is that some Baltic words are given with accent marks and others without, although all are accented in the source being cited. For example, Bilsinyčia is accented, whereas the river name Mašnyčia printed next to it is left unaccented (p. 194). There are quite a number of such cases: blývas, but blaivas (p. 69), gūburas and gūbrys (p. 73), Žuvinė, but Plačioji (p. 74), rūpūžė, but krupis (p. 76), Sartupis, but Serčiupys (p. 78), and so on. In some places accentuation is applied almost throughout and quite accurately (e.g., pp. 76, 82), while elsewhere words are left unaccented (e.g., pp. 72, 74, 75, 79, 83, and so on).

Proofreading errors are fairly frequent (pp. 34, 74, 82, 83, 194, and so on).

There are occasional inaccuracies in the interpretation of hydronyms and other place names. For example, the Lithuanian river name Mūkė (the variant Mākė appears to be secondary, later, with a stressed vowel ū < ū lengthened in the dialect) should primarily be connected with Lith. mūkti “to become soft, to turn to mush,” mukus “boggy,” Latv. muka “boggy marsh,” and the like. The original meaning of this river name must have been “a boggy, mushy river” or something similar; its connection with Sanskrit mūka, Greek μυώξ, Latin mūtus “mute” is therefore hardly necessary or accurate (p. 34). Moreover, it is entirely unclear how the ending -a of the present-day form Мика of the Slavic hydronym *Мукъ (Dnieper and Teteriv basin) could have arisen through analogy with the Indo-European hydronyms Nida, Vara Drava, Mara (p. 35). After all, these are names from distant regions (Nida—a tributary of the Vistula; Vara—a tributary of the Marga in Liguria; Drava—a tributary of the Nieczezca in Pomerania; Marà—a tributary of the Ančia, Kapčiamiestis), and possibly names from different periods as well! It seems that other explanations should be sought for the change in the ending.

The names of rivers in former East Prussia, Skara (another name for the Prieglius) and Skarupė are derived from Lith. skerys. The appellative is treated as a Samogitian word (following E. Fraenkel), and the question is raised whether the names of just three Ukrainian rivers, Скоропинка < *Skar-ap-in-, might constitute a highly distinctive Samogitian–Prussian isogloss in Ukraine. There seems to be no clear basis for thinking so (for at least two reasons).

One reason is that the appellative skerys can hardly be regarded as exclusively Samogitian. It is true that it is now little known in eastern Lithuania, but it still occurs around Subačius and Kupiškis, and perhaps in some other places. That the word skerys (or skeryš) was certainly known in these areas is shown by surnames: the surname Skerys or Skeryš has been known since earlier times (and is therefore not migratory), among other places, in the areas of Grinkiškis, Kupiškis, Krakės, Krekenava, Nemunėlio Radviliškis, and Vabalninkas—that is, also in places where the appellative skerys has survived. Place names only confirm this assumption: according to them, the area of the appellative skerys, skeryš (or surnames derived from it) is not in western Lithuania

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seems somewhat larger: Skėriai village, Kaišiadorys, Pakruojis, and Pasvalys districts; Skėriškė village, Kelmė district; Skėrė (or Skėrė) forest in the vicinity of Dubingiai; Skėriškės meadow in the vicinity of Obeliai; Skėriškės meadow in the vicinity of Semeliškės, and so on. Moreover, there are three rivers in Lithuania called Skēr-upis, two of which are not in Samogitia (near Raudondvaris and Taujėnai).

Second, the names of the rivers of former East Prussia, Skara, Skarupė, and the name of the stream in the vicinity of Varniai, Skaryčia, are most likely not derived from skėrys (‘locust’) (phonetics, at least in part, also argues against such a derivation—skēr-: skar-), but should instead be connected with Russian скорый ‘fast’ and Dacian skaras ‘fast’, with an original meaning of swiftness or the like being reconstructed.

The three river names Skēr-upis are, of course, another matter—their first element most likely derives from skėrys. This circumstance also clearly shows that hydronyms derived from skėrys retain the root skēr-; they do not change it to skar- or the like. In general, in Samogitia the root skēr- cannot regularly change to skar- (Skaryčia near Varniai).

Thus, Скоропинка is apparently simply a Ukrainian-Baltic hydronymic parallel.

There are other inaccuracies and debatable points as well.

For example, the river name Netecza (Vistula basin) is treated as a derivative with the suffix -cza (-ча) (p. 196). In fact, this river name derives from a prefixed Slavic common noun: Ukrainian нетеч ‘stagnant water, pool’, нетеча ‘stream’; Polish nieciecz, nieciecza ‘stagnant water; a small coastal lake formed after a river flood’ (hence Lithuanian Netėčius lake near Varėna), Nieczezca, Nieciecze lakes, Nieczezca lake, and so forth.

In general, it seems that the chapter “Word Formation” should have followed the derivational principle more consistently. When this principle is disregarded, the analysis of word formation loses its boundaries and turns into an overview of the morphemic structure of words or, worse, becomes altogether misleading (as in the aforementioned case of Netecza). This often happens in the “Word Formation” chapter: where one should and ought, for instance, to discuss derivation and suffixes, the analysis often shifts to word forms. Thus, alongside the derivative Лютиж with the suffix -iž (Ukrainian -іж) is the hydronym Рубіж, derived from a suffixed common noun (pp. 202–203); alongside Синюра is the appellative formation Луга. Also mentioned alongside them is the river name Бендюга, which is considered to be of oikonymic origin (p. 210)—in fact, this is a hydronym formed from a Slavic common noun of Germanic origin—cf. Polish bienduga, binduga ‘a riverbank suitable for navigation, where rafts are assembled and floated downstream’; binduga ‘a place by a river where logs suitable for rafting are stacked and from which rafts are floated downstream’ < Middle Low German bindinge. This word gives, for example, Polish Binduga lake, part of Pod Bindugę lake, Lithuanian Bindīgė river (near Prienai), and so on. The Ukrainian oikonym Биндюра, without a doubt, arose in a similar way as well.

In short, the derivational analysis should have strictly distinguished derived hydronyms from river and lake names that have a similar ending or otherwise resemble derivatives, but were formed in an entirely different way. Only then would the word formation of hydronyms be distinguished from that of other proper names, bringing out the features of hydronym formation, rather than of proper names generally or even of common nouns.

Some of the shortcomings mentioned here are quite natural in a work that encompasses an enormous number of languages, a wealth of material, and highly complex problems. It is understandable that a representative of one of the particular languages discussed in the book would find it easier to notice these inaccuracies.

Aleksandras Vanagas