Balticists may perhaps feel a little regret that M. Rudzytė wrote not a study of Latvian dialectology, but a dialectology textbook for students. Didactic aims required her to explain some elementary aspects of dialectological science; moreover, the textbook’s format seems to have constrained the author’s thoughts and limited her independence. She appears to have deliberately avoided more complex questions in the history of dialectology, most often contenting herself with references to the work of her great teacher, Academician J. Endzelīns. In this way, unwilling to shortchange her students, the author sometimes slightly “shortchanged” researchers of the Baltic languages. However, everyone will surely understand that it is exceedingly difficult to satisfy both groups in the same book. Be that as it may, thanks to its extensive material, presented in a highly systematic manner (in this respect it truly goes far beyond the bounds of a textbook), M. Rudzytė’s work marks a substantial step forward in Latvian dialectology, and its author deserves the sincere gratitude of all Balticists.

It is also worth drawing attention to a couple of minor points that caught my eye while leafing through the pages of this work. For each question discussed, the author presented the relevant literature in considerable detail; however, when discussing the Curonian problem (cf. pp. 32, 64), for some reason she did not cite the major work devoted to it—V. Kiparsky’s “Kurenfrage” (Helsinki, 1939). She may also, perhaps needlessly, place the Curonians in the same group as the Prussians (cf. p. 20), seemingly setting them apart from such Baltic tribes as the Selonians or Semigallians. The term krustoties, in the sense in which M. Rudzytė uses it (cf. p. 34), is not entirely suitable, since in recent linguistic scholarship it has been used with a somewhat different meaning.⁴.

A. Sabaliauskas

A NEW TOPONYMIC DICTIONARY

В. А. Никонов, Краткий топонимический словарь, Москва, 1966, 510 р.

A considerable number of toponymic dictionaries have been published in our country. Some have appeared that, by virtue of their scope, may be regarded as precursors of the work under review¹. However, most of them had clearly ceased to meet the requirements of toponomastics in our country and worldwide, although some were published relatively recently. The preparation of a new dictionary founded on the principles of contemporary toponymic scholarship was therefore very much needed.

V. Nikonov’s recently published “Brief Dictionary of Toponyms” covers around four thousand names of inhabited places, rivers, lakes, seas and oceans, regions, nationalities, and other features across the globe. It is easy to imagine the enormous work the author undertook in selecting, and sometimes explaining, place names from dozens of the world’s languages. The literature on toponymy is extensive, but uneven in quality. Moreover, the level of toponomastic scholarship varies greatly from one country to another. Consequently, the difficulties of “sifting” and evaluating the literature are in practice not easily overcome. The reasons mentioned undoubtedly account for the fact that not everything in V. Nikonov’s dictionary is perfect, not every-

⁴ Plg. O. C. Ахманова, Словарь лингвистических терминов, Москва, 1966, p. 417.

¹ M. N. Melkheev, Geographical Names. A Toponymic Dictionary, Moscow, 1961; M. S. Bodnarsky, Dictionary of Geographical Names, 2nd ed., Moscow, 1958; A. A. Ivanovsky, Geographical Names, Moscow, 1914, and others.

See also J. Haliczer, Słownik geograficzny. Pochodzenie i znaczenie nazw geograficznych, Tarnopol, 1935.

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The works in this field were used, while the explanations of the origins of some toponyms are questionable or entirely unfounded. But the dictionary’s scope and nature, together with the fact that in our country it had almost no scholarly predecessors of the requisite standard, allow us to take a more lenient view of the inaccuracies and shortcomings it contains.

Without attempting to assess the dictionary as a whole, I would like to say a few words about its explanations of Baltic place names. First of all, it is striking that the Baltic place names are explained in the dictionary much better than in earlier works of this kind. This can be seen from the following examples:

Lith. Kaunas. In M. Bodnarskis’s view² (later repeated verbatim by M. Melchejevas³), the name of this city is supposedly derived from the name of Milda’s son, Milda being the mythological Lithuanian goddess of love. J. Haliczer⁴ derived the place name Kaunas from Lith. kaunas (which should be kaūnis or kaūnė, kaunią ‘battle’). However, well before his dictionary appeared, two much more reliable hypotheses had been published concerning the origin of Kaunas⁵; unfortunately, neither J. Haliczer nor, later, M. Bodnarskis and M. Melchejevas made use of them. V. Nikonov cites most of the explanations proposed for the origin of the place name Kaunas and the most important literature on the subject, including the very latest. To be sure, V. Nikonov may be criticized for presenting earlier opinions without selection, sometimes without even indicating which one is the most reliable. Naturally, this is not always clear, but in the case mentioned he could have added that connecting Kaunas with Russian ковать (supposedly, ‘a place where blacksmithing is practiced’) is unscientific. In general, it would have been best to omit wholly unscientific explanations from a work of this kind.

Lith. Nėmunas. M. Bodnarskis⁷ and M. Melchejevas⁸ (the latter relying on A. Ivanovskiu⁹) repeat A. Kochiubinsky’s naive derivation of Nėmunas from Lith. nãmas, published at the end of the previous century: it is supposedly “our river, a Lithuanian river”¹⁰. Even more unsuccessful—one might say downright bizarre—is V. Zhuchkevich’s explanation of the origin of Nemunas, presented in the work “The Origin of Place Names (Toponymy of Belarus),” published in 1961. According to it, “Nėmunas in its lower reaches may have originated from a Lithuanian root, while in its upper reaches it may also have come from the Slavic root nem, which gave rise to many words (“немой,” “немец”) with the common lexical meaning ‘silence, incomprehensible sound, incomprehensible speech’¹¹. An analogous example would be to claim that the river name Maskvà is of Finnish origin in its upper reaches and Slavic origin in its lower reaches. V. Nikonov managed to resist the routine of these unscientific explanations and presented almost all

² М. С. Боднарский, ор. cit., р. 153.

³ М. Н. Мельхеев, ор. cit., р. 44.

⁴ J. Haličzer, op. cit., p. 142.

⁵ Žr. Lietuvių kalbos žodynas, V, Vilnius, 1959, p. 436.

⁶ Žr. A. Senn, „Tauta ir žodis“, III, 1925, p. 510; D. Studerus, Zum Stadtnamen Kaunas, „Indogermanische Forschungen“, XLVII, 1929, p. 350–356.

⁷ М. С. Боднарский, ор. cit., р. 224.

⁸ М. Н. Мельхеев, ор. cit., р. 62.

⁹ А. А. Ивановский, ор. cit., р. 75.

¹⁰ А. А. Кочубинский, Территория доисторической Литвы, ЖМНП, 1897, январь, р. 81.

¹¹ В. А. Жучкевич, Происхождение географических названий (топонимика Белоруссии), Минск, 1961, р. 13.

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more reliable hypotheses about the origin of Nėmuno (except, admittedly, perhaps the most important one—K. Būga’s later hypothesis¹²).

Another positive feature of the dictionary is that it follows a toponymic approach to place names fairly consistently. Unlike the authors of earlier toponymic dictionaries, V. Nikonov correctly derives the name of the city Vilnius not directly from the common noun vilnis, but from the name of a river (see below), Pum (Roma) from the river name Ruma, rather than from a common noun meaning ‘flowing’¹³, and so on. The dictionary is accompanied by all the most necessary supplements—an introduction, and lists of literature, terms, and abbreviations. Moreover, it gives not only the etymologies of the names of the more important geographical features, but also some historical, geographical, and other information about the features themselves.

Although V. Nikonov has gone further than earlier authors of similar works (A. Ivanovski, M. Bodnarski, M. Melcheev, and others) in explaining the origins of Baltic place names, his “Concise Dictionary of Toponyms” nevertheless still has shortcomings in this respect. First of all, there are inaccuracies in the etymologies of Baltic place names, arising mainly because V. Nikonov did not always make use of studies on Baltic toponymy published considerably earlier. A second factor diminishing the dictionary’s value is the occasional imprecise account of other scholars’ views, or, more generally, an insufficiently precise presentation of the material. For instance, in explaining the origin of Kauno, the author writes: “Other etymologies: from Baltic languages, ‘a kind of sword (палаш)’, figuratively ‘a chopper, a cutter (with a weapon), a pestle’, even ‘shame’; from Gothic hauns ‘low’ or ‘humble’.” This account could be understood to mean that Lithuanian Kaūnas was derived not only from a Lithuanian word meaning ‘a kind of sword; a chopper, a cutter’, even ‘shame’, but also from Gothic hauns. In fact, Kaūnas is merely associated with Latvian kauns ‘shame’, while Gothic hauns ‘niedrig, demütig’ is cited to explain the meaning of the latter word¹⁴. In other words, Kaūnas is not derived here from a Baltic word meaning ‘shame’ and the like, or from Gothic hauns; rather, these words were used only in an attempt to reconstruct the pre-toponymic meaning of the common noun from which the toponym in question might have originated. Again, in explaining the origin of Klaipėdos, V. Nikonov cites only G. Gerulis, among the many views. Moreover, Gerulis’s view is also reported somewhat imprecisely: according to G. Gerulis, the name Klaipėda derives from some proper or common noun klaipėda¹⁵, so it is not appropriate to say that the second component of the toponym Klaipėda comes from pėda ‘territory’.

Among the more general observations, it should also be added that the origins of some place names are explained too impartially. The “Concise Dictionary of Toponyms” is undoubtedly intended less for specialists than for a broad readership, and should therefore be not only an objective source of information but also a guide. It is good when the reader learns both the author’s opinion and the actual state of affairs. However, there are cases in which the dictionary author’s opinion is not apparent, and the reader is left to choose for themselves which

¹² K. Būga published two hypotheses concerning the origin of Nėmuno; for the first, see K. Būga, Rinktiniai raštai, I, Vilnius, 1958, p. 466; for the second, ibid., II, Vilnius, 1959, p. 214, 280–284; III, Vilnius, 1961, p. 534, 875. In his dictionary, V. Nikonov mentions only K. Būga’s first hypothesis.

¹³ М. Н. Мельхеев, op. cit., p. 71.

¹⁴ G. Studerus, op. cit., p. 350–356.

¹⁵ See “Archivum Philologicum”, I, p. 208; E. Fraenkel, Litauisches etymologisches Wörterbuch, I, p. 263.

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which of the opinions or hypotheses mentioned is more correct. But how many readers will be able to do so without making a mistake? For example, when explaining the origin of the name Lietuvos, V. Nikonov sets out, one after another, the views of J. Otrębski and K. Kuzavinio¹⁶, but does not say which is more acceptable, although in this case it should be clear to a toponymy specialist that the “last word” belongs to K. Kuzavinio’s explanation. Moreover, in some cases where it is difficult to decide which of many explanations should be preferred, the author uses the word “majority” (“большинство”). That word (“majority”) sometimes serves as a peculiar argument, although the large number of supporters of one opinion does not mean that the opinion itself is therefore the most reliable. For example, when discussing the origin of the name of the European river Dunojaus, it is said that “the majority of scholars favor a Celtic” origin for Dunojaus. However, despite this “majority,” V. Georgiev’s hypothesis is currently the most acceptable: according to it, the Dunojus (the lower and part of the middle course) is a Dacian-Mysian name, since it successfully explains both the origin of the name itself and the relationship between *Dānavi(s) and Romanian Dunăre, as well as Slavic Dunaj and Dunav¹⁷.

Next, I would like to draw attention to specific inaccuracies that occur in explanations of Baltic place names (the dictionary gives about 45 in all, from Lithuania, Latvia, and former Baltic territories).

Cna (Цна). Number eight, Cna, is located as follows: a right tributary of the Uša in Lithuania. However, neither the Uša nor the Cna flows through Lithuania. This is an obvious error in localization.

Curonian Lagoon. In the dictionary this place name is written Курский залив, with the variant Куршский залив also given alongside it. The place name is derived from the ethnonym кур. The form Курский залив, which has been used quite frequently in Russian writing in recent times, is incorrect. The lagoon’s name itself is of ethnonymic origin—from the name of the Baltic tribe kuršiai (Latvian kursi¹⁸). Therefore, the Russian name for the Curonian Lagoon can only be Куршский залив. It is also incorrect to call the Curonians кур in Russian. This form was apparently taken from old German or Latin documents, where the Curonians are called Cori, Curones, Kuren, Curi, and so on. However, the documentary spellings without ш (or s) after r are secondary, taken from the Livonian name for the Curonians, *kora(s) arba *kura(s)¹⁹. The Livonian name, in turn, derives from the older form *kurha < *kurša(s)²⁰. Moreover, it is wrong to say that until 1946 the Curonian Lagoon was called only “Куршш-гаф (нем.)”, since the Lithuanian name Kuršių marios was also in general use before 1946.

Kurzeme. It is derived from the ethnonym купел. As already stated above, the ethnonym is not курпы but курши (Lithuanian kuršiai, Latvian kursi).

Latvia. It is merely stated that the origin of the ethnonym is unclear. Yet the dictionary includes many place names whose origins are even less clear than that of Latvija, and offers hypotheses about their origins (for example, Maskva, Nemunas, Volga, etc.). Therefore, in this case, K. Būga’s fairly reliable view of the hydronymic origin of the ethnonym Latvija should certainly have been mentioned²¹.

¹⁶ K. Kuzavinio’s surname is written in a highly distorted form: K. Kuravinij.

¹⁷ Вл. Георгиев, Дунай, Дунав, Dunăre, „Studia linguistica in honorem Thaddaei Lehr-Splawiński“, Warszawa, 1963, p. 87 tt.

¹⁸ K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 246.

¹⁹ K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 249.

²⁰ K. Būga explains these forms in greater detail—op. cit., III, p. 249 ff.

²¹ K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 530, 629.

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Lyda. The town’s name is considered to derive from a common noun meaning “a clearing, a cutting down”²². In fact, the town’s name derives from the name of the river Lyda²³.

Nėmunas. It has already been mentioned that, in explaining the origin of this name, only one of K. Būga’s two etymologies is cited—namely, the first, which K. Būga himself abandoned²⁴. This deserves particular emphasis, since some other researchers, too, forget K. Būga’s second opinion²⁵, according to which Nėmunas should be analyzed as consisting of the root nem- (cf. nėm-uogė, nem-ūnė, Latin nemus “grove, sacred grove, small wood,” Greek νέμος “pasture, small wood,” etc.²⁶) and the suffix -unas (cf. the form Nėmanas used by some Samogitians).

Riga. The town’s name should be derived not directly from the common noun (Lith. ringė), but from the river name *Riga (< *Ringā); cf. documents from 1297 and 1304, which read: Riga flumen²⁷.

Šiauliai. V. Nikonov repeats R. Schmittlein’s entirely unsupported hypothesis that the town’s name Šiauliai derives from the Germanic personal name Saul or Savilis. The erroneous nature of R. Schmittlein’s view had already been pointed out in print²⁸. Šiauliai is a place name of relatively clear origin: it arose from the plural of the personal name Šiaulys (or the common noun šiaulys). K. Būga has explained the Baltic origin of this place name at length on several occasions²⁹, but neither R. Schmittlein nor V. Nikonov draws on those explanations.

Venta. The author offers several explanations of the origin of this name, but omits perhaps the most important one—that of K. Būga’s later view. K. Būga initially linked this river name with Slavic vęto- “large”³⁰, but later abandoned that view and derived Venta from the Baltic root vent- “to bend: to incline,” cf. vénteris³¹.

Vilnius. It is rightly regarded as a hydronymic place name, but it most likely derives not from the river name Vilija (Neris), as the dictionary states, but from Vilnia (a left tributary of the Neris). The older (or parallel) form of the town’s name Vilnius appears to have been feminine: Vilnia. Some residents of the Panevėžys, Šeduva, Ukmergė, Gervėčiai³², and Zietela³³ areas still call Vilnius by this name today.

²² Perhaps Lithuanian lydimas is meant: “a place cleared in the forest, a clearing, a cutting down; a cultivated field on land cleared from forest.”

²³ K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 492, 787.

²⁴ K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 875.

²⁵ Pavyzdžiui, M. Vasmer, Russisches etymologisches Wörterbuch, II, Heidelberg, 1955, p. 211.

²⁶ K. Būga, op. cit., II, p. 280–284; III, p. 534, 875.

²⁷ See A. Bielenstein, Die Grenzen des lettischen Volksstammes und der lettischen Sprache in der Gegenwart und im 13. Jahrhundert. St. Petersburg, 1892, p. 37, 38. Apart from A. Bylenšteinas, K. Būga, too, considered the town name Ryga to derive from the river name (see K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 515).

²⁸ See A. Vanagas. On the etymologies of the names of certain Lithuanian towns, “Lietuvių kalbotyros klausimai,” VI, Vilnius, 1963, p. 333.

²⁹ K. Būga, op. cit., II, p. 98, 349, 588.

³⁰ K. Būga, op. cit., I, p. 490, 519 ff.; III, p. 546.

³¹ K. Būga, op. cit., III, p. 243, 244.

³² See И. Бальчиконис, Названия литовских населённых пунктов, образованные от названий рек и озер, “Lingua Posnaniensis,” VII, p. 241.

³³ A. Vidugiris, Zietelos lietuvių tarmė (filol. m. kand. disertacija, mašinraštis), Vilnius, 1961, p. 469, 471.

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Among other minor points, one can also point out the inaccurate form bangus (p. 67), given in place of Lithuanian baugùs.

The author of the “Concise Dictionary of Toponyms” could easily have avoided nearly all the shortcomings and inaccuracies mentioned here, especially those concerning the explanations of Baltic toponyms, if, as we have seen, he had made greater use of K. Būga’s works.

A. Vanagas