V

   

Textual Efficiency

 

1. MOTIVES FOR EFFICIENCY

 

  1.1 I have argued throughout that the utilization of texts in communication entails constant management of blocks of knowledge, only some of which are relevant at a given moment. The sheer volume of this knowledge usually precludes making even a majority of it explicit in an individual statement. It follows that a language should provide numerous options for compacting surface expression without damaging the connectivity of underlying knowledge. In effect, these sets of options point the participants in communication toward that portion of active knowledge which is to be currently expanded or modified. The options are clearly an important contribution to the EFFICIENCY of textuality: processing the largest amounts with the smallest expenditure of resources. In terms of CYBERNETICS, the use of formats for restatement responds to the CURRENT CONTROLS on communication (cf. I.3.4.7), regulating the flow of knowledge up to the surface.

1.2 The notion of “cohesion” has been used by some researchers for devices such as pronominalization, substitution, and ellipsis (see especially Halliday 1964; Hasan 1968; Halliday & Hasan 1976). Often, no special consideration is given to the underlying connectivity of text-knowledge and world-knowledge that makes these devices possible and useful (except in the discussion of “lexical cohesion” in Halliday & Hasan 1976: ch. 6). Many factors in linguistic outlooks were responsible for this omission: limitations to sentences, exclusion of world-knowledge, lack of interest in real communication, and a general discomfort regarding semantics. The enduring primacy of syntax in linguistics is revealed by the very terms that were proposed for the devices we are considering:. “hypersyntax” (Palek 1968), “macrosyntax” (Gülich 1970), or “suprasyntax” (Dressler 1970a). Evidently, the notion of ‘syntax” here is not that of syntax proper, but a hybrid of ‘semantics of syntax” and “syntax of semantics” as envisioned by the scheme set forth in I.2.8. Bonnie Webber (1980) remarks on the tendency to treat the cohesive devices as if they served to refer to surface words rather than to the conceptual-relational content underlying words. Jerry Morgan (1978a: 109f.) notices that tendency even in the writings of Halliday and Hasan (1976: 2), ‘who probably know better.” But Morgan may be too severe: surely we may say metaphorically that words “refer” to other words, and mean that words refer to the same referents as other words, provided we do not go on to claim that we are dealing with nothing but words.

1.3 An exception to general trends is the very broad outlook of Roland Harweg (1968a). His notion of ‘substitution’ subsumes not only the usual devices such as pronouns and articles, but a diverse range of conceptual relations like inclusions among classes, superclasses, or metaclasses, part/whole, causality, and proximity. He is one of the few linguists to make free use of world-knowledge in defining textuality. In the main, “substitution’ is any connection between two components of a text or textual world that allows the second to activate a configuration of knowledge shared with the first. Hence, a good portion of his examples would be in line with the spreading activation model of knowledge use (cf. III.3.24).

1.4   I will undertake to outline some of the most important devices of cohesion. My criteria will be their contributions to the processing efficiency. These devices are: 

1.4.1 RECURRENCE is the actual repetition of expressions. The repeated elements may have the same, different, or overlapping reference, and the extent of conceptual content they can be used to activate varies accordingly.

1.4.2 DEFINITENESS is the extent to which the text-world entity for an expression at a given point is assumed to be identifiable and recoverable, as opposed to being introduced just then.

1.4.3 CO-REFERENCE is the application of different surface expressions to the same entity in a textual world.

1.4.4 ANAPHORA is the type of co-reference where a lexical expression has is a PRO-FORM (e.g. pronoun) after it in the surface text.

1.4.5 CATAPHORA is the type of co-reference where a lexical expression has is a pro-form before it in the surface text.

1.4.6 EXOPHORA is the application of a pro-form to an entity not expressed in the text at all, but identifiable in the situational context.

1.4.7 ELLIPSIS is the omission of surface expressions whose conceptual content is nonetheless carried forward and expanded or modified by means of noticeably incomplete expressions.

1.4.8 JUNCTION subsumes the devices for connecting surface sequences together in such a way that the relations between blocks of conceptual text- world knowledge are signaled, such as: addition, alternativity, contrast, and causality. Subtypes of junction are CONJUNCTION, DISJUNCTION, CONTRAJUNCTION, and SUBORDINATION (see II.2.24ff.).

 

1.5 These devices offer a number of contributions to efficiency: (1) the compacting of surface expression; (2) the omission of surface elements; (3) the carrying forward of materials to be expanded, developed, modified, or repudiated; (4) the signaling of knownness, uniqueness, or identity; and (5) a workable balance between repetition and variation in surface structure as required by the considerations of informativity.

1.6 The dependence of these devices on context emerges from this list of advantages. At any particular moment during the production and comprehension of a text, people need cues about what ALTERNATIVES among possible continuations are more or less probable (cf. IV.1.1). At the same time, it is necessary to keep the intended alternatives CURRENT without cluttering up the surface text by lengthy restatement or repudiation.

1.7 The STABILITY PRINCIPLE was proposed in I.4.4 as a major factor of systemic regulation of the kind I envision in the actualization of texts. Such a principle assigns a high priority to strategies for co-ordinating surface expressions that share common or contiguous conceptual content. The ECONOMY PRINCIPLE stipulates that, wherever expedient or doubtful, preference should be given to re-using already activated content, rather than activating new content. It follows that cohesive devices like those enumerated in V.1.4 do not make the text coherent; the prior assumption that the text is coherent makes these devices useful (cf. Morgan 1978a: I 10).

 

2. RECURRENCE

 

2.1 The recurrence of surface expressions with the same conceptual content and reference is especially common in spontaneous speaking, as opposed to formal situations. The eyewitness report of a distraught county supervisor after a flood in Arizona contained these statements (Gainesville Sun, Dec. 20, 1978):

 

(73) There’s water through many homes.  I would say almost all of them have water in them. It’s just completely under water.]1 [1. Throughout this chapter, I use the convention of underlining the elements I wish to address in italics.]

 

The rhetorical accumulated effect of this usage has something of the disastrous, disordered copiousness of the water, an entity normally in short supply in Arizona.

2.2 According to the principles of stability and economy, recurrence would entail sameness of reference. But this could lead to conflicts in texts where there seem to be no alternative expressions for different referents (Gainseville Sun, Dec. 20, 1978):

 

(74.1) Weapons and projectile toys have a built-in threat to eyes and cannot be made child-proof. (74.2) Consumer safety groups have also warned about stuffed animals with loose eyes and poorly sewn-on accessories. Small children can pull them off and swallow them. (74.3) “We find eyes all over the place,” one toy store clerk said.

 

We assume that the clerk was finding toy eyes, not children’s ‘eyes all over the place’ because in the latter case, the press treatment would be much more explicit (lack of knowledge inference, III.3.21). Ambiguity is similarly overcome for this passage of the Ohio Drivers Handbook:

 

(75) A restricted license may be issued to any person otherwise qualified who is subject to episodic impairment of consciousness upon a statement from a licensed physician.

 

None of my Ohio informants interpreted the passage such that the physician is required to have a driver’s license (though some wondered how ‘episodic impairment of consciousness’ differs from the usual state of Ohio drivers).

2.3 Deliberate violations of the stability and economy principles might increase informativity and interest. For example, a poem allegedly written by the 18-year-old conspirator Chidiock Tichborne just before his execution in 1586 contains the line (Simpson [ed.] 1967: 85L):

 

        (76) My glass is full, and now my glass is run.

 

A discrepancy (1.6.9) arises when the second ‘glass’ cannot be taken as a drinking vessel and must be processed as ‘hourglass’ instead, reverting to knowledge about the writer’s personal situation of impending execution.

2.4 Psychologically, recurrences should distribute attention away from their components, except in cases like (76). If the frequency principle of learning (IV.2.2) applies, the recurrent elements should be impressed on memory. Processing should be easy, as the point of connection in the ongoing text-world model should be obvious (cf. Kintsch 1974: 86). Whatever factors may apply, there must be a difference between the TRIVIAL recurrences required by the limited repertories of language options and MOTIVATED recurrences where repetition has some deeper justification (cf. Werth 1976; Beaugrande 1978b, 1979e, 1979g).

2.5 Consider for instance the Biblical proverb:2 [2. These examples are taken from a textbook entitled Rhetoric: From Athens to Auburn, ed. Richard Graves (Auburn: Auburn University Press, 1976), pp. 33, 32, and 19 respectively).

 

 (77) As in water face reflects face,

     So the heart of man reflects man.

 

The two lines are very similar in surface structure, and each contains an element repeated on either side of the element ‘reflects’. This organization of expression enacts the content of the textual world: images ‘reflected’ in a mirror. Less striking is the use of recurrence for signaling repetitious events, as in Steinbeck’s passage:

 

(78) They work at it and work at it.

 

This use is similar to that of the county supervisor preoccupied with an overabundance of water in (73). Speaker outlook can be signaled with recurrences such as this one from Jeannie Morris:

 

(79) There are no distractions — and I mean no distractions.

 

This time, the surface format iconically nacts the insistence of the speaker on an attitude as unchanging as the expressions themselves. Possible objections are accordingly discouraged (cf. Beaugrande & Dressier 1980).

2.6 Recurrence can be employed with a shift in the syntactic function of an expression (Dressier 1979). The recurring element is adapted to its environments, yet the identity of reference is still obvious. In the American Declaration of Independence, we find these stretches of text:

 

(80.1) to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station [...] (80.2) they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation

 

The shift from adjective for an attribute to noun for an action neatly signals the overall coherence while avoiding the monotony of an exact repetition. Dressier (1979) notes that this recurrence type offers the text producer the potential to create new language items, since one occurrence can provide for the comprehension of the other. Such is the case when Erich Fried entitles a story ‘Turtle-Turning’ and includes this passage (Fried 1975):

 

(81) Everywhere he finds a helpless turtle fallen on its back, he turns it over

 

The title would be highly non-determinate without this recurrence via word- class shifting.

2.7 Recurrences of lengthy expressions or whole passages can be disadvantageous, because they depress informativity unless strong motivation is present. It is strategically sound to vary expression with paraphrases or synonyms. Yet as in the case of ‘water’ (73), there may be only one readily available name for the desired concept. In scientific reports, the use of specially defined terms must be consistent, despite the repetitiousness entailed. Hearers and readers presumably adapt their expectations in response to these factors.

 

3. DEFINITENESS

 

3.1 The issue of definiteness takes on various dimensions, depending upon whether one’s outlook is logical or psychological. If meaning is identified directly with “truth value” (III.I.2), definiteness becomes a property of objects asserted in a logical world. If meaning is viewed as mental processes, then definite entities are those that are “uniquely identifiable” to participants in communication (Clark & Clark 1977: 249f.). Whether the entities are logical or real, both criteria are too strong. Definiteness applies to many entities that need not be identified at all with specific objects. Ortony and Anderson (1977) distinguish the identifiable reference as “extensional representation” and the reference to entities needed only for conceptual content as “intensional representation” (cf. I.2.8.2).

3.2 The utilization of ARTICLES,in English at least, is revealing, as the terms “definite and indefinite article” suggest. Usually, the definite article is claimed to precede the expression of entities already mentioned, and the indefinite that of newly introduced ones (cf. Firbas 1966). But the following fragment of a Thurber story (in Thurber 1948: 34), suggests  that the matter is more intricate: 3 [3. James Thurber, ‘The Princess and the Tin Box’, in The Beast in Me —And Other Animals, published by Harcourt Brace Joyanovich 1948. Reprinted by permission.]

 

(82.1) Once upon a time, there lived a king whose daughter was the prettiest princess in the whole world. (82.2) On the day the princess was eighteen, the king sent a royal ambassador to the courts of the five neighboring kingdoms to announce that he would give his daughter’s hand in marriage to the prince whose gift she liked most. (82.3) The first prince to arrive at the palace […]

 

The classical distinction of new = indefinite vs. previously mentioned = definite applies here only to ‘a king’ (82. 1) and ‘the king’(82.2). The beginnings of texts are, of course, likely places for indefinite articles (Weinrich 1976: 172). Yet the first occurrence of ‘princess’ has the definite article, being a superlative. The usage in ‘the five neighboring kingdoms’ rests on the postulate of continuity in a textual world (I.6.4): a geographical region can be expected to have neighbors. ‘The prince’ in (82.2) is a projected entity not yet having any referent: any prince who meets that description (an “intensional representation’ in the sense of Ortony & R. Anderson 1977); and ‘the first prince’ in (82.3) is a member of the candidate class in which there can be only one for each number in a series. Such varied uses of articles are essential for the connectivity of the story. De Villiers (1974) found that if the definite articles in a story text are replaced by indefinite, readers don’t take the component sentences as parts of a story at all. Loftus and Zanni (1975) found that eyewitness reports could be influenced by inserting definite articles in front of strategic items: the articles impelled the eyewitnesses to accept as factual some items they hadn’t really seen to begin with. Here, the text surface actually created background knowledge while pretending to keep it active.

3.3 At least the following entities would seem to be eligible for the status of definiteness:

 

3.3.1 MENTIONED entities as established in a textual world (e.g. ‘the king);

3.3.2 SPECIFIC entities established by constraining description or definition (e.g. ‘the day the princess was eighteen);

3.3.3 EPISODIC entities stored in the shared knowledge of language users personally acquainted with each other (e.g. ‘the movie’ in Clark & Marshall 1978: 57; cf. also Goldman 1975: 347);

3.3.4 UNIQUE entities which every sensorially endowed member of a communicative group is assumed to know about (e.g. ‘the sun’, ‘the earth);

3.3.5 INSTITUTIONALIZED entities that social organization is presumed to require (‘the president’, ‘the fire department’, ‘the police);

3.3.6 DEFAULT entities created on demand for the continuity of a textual world (e.g. ‘the five neighboring kingdoms’ in [82.2]);

3.3.7 PROTOTYPICAL entities that function as the representative of a class (e.g. ‘the man on the street’, ‘the ugly American) (cf. III.3.27);

 3.3.8 SUPERLATIVE entities that occupy the extreme position on some scale of variables (e.g. ‘the prettiest princess in the whole world’);

3.3.9 RELATIONAL ENTITIES accessible via TYPICAL and DETERMINATE links from already definite entities.

 

3.4 The criterion of being “uniquely identifiable” fails to cover these various uses. Often, definite entities have no more identity than is required for the particular context wherein they appear (Rieger 1975: 204). We can talk about ‘the police” ‘the ugly American’, or ‘the prettiest princess in the whole world’ without any commitment to an object, or even to a complete entity: we are addressing a conceptual configuration whose content may be no more than the properties we need at the moment. The ‘police’ are people only in their official capacity, not as private individuals. An ‘ugly American’ need by no means possess a repellent outward appearance. We can easily envision the man on the street’ not being on any street at all, but sleeping in a dumpster. And ‘the prettiest princess’ may be decidable in a children’s tale, but hardly in a reality where beauty is a matter of opinion.

3.5 Definiteness might be explicated as the status of entities in a textual world whose FUNCTION in their respective context is non-controversial. To fix the status, e.g. with proper names or definite descriptions, is to instruct the hearer/ reader that the appropriate conceptual content should be easily suppliable on the basis of already activated knowledge spaces. INDEFINITE entities, on the other hand, require the activation of further knowledge spaces. Hence, de Villier’s (1974) test subjects thought that the version with indefinite articles could not constitute a unified story world. They took the indefinite articles as instructions to activate new spaces rather than use already active ones.

3.6 No one would have trouble with entities like ‘the sun’ and ‘the moon’. These entities are not in fact unique, as the exploration of astronomers attests. But in lack of any wider setting such as a science fiction story, preference is at once given to the usual referents. Since a textual world is not committed to exact correspondence with the accepted real world, conventionally unique entities can be recontextualized into non-unique. In this view, uniqueness begins to converge with default. Consider this excerpt from a news article on prostitution (Gainesville Sun, Oct. 8, 1978):

 

(83) Now that the adult bookstores, formerly the vice squad’s primary target, have been closed down, the agents are able to devote more time to busting hookers.

 

The definiteness of ‘bookstores’, ‘vice squad’, and ‘agents’ rests on their typical or institutionalized status in American social organization. They can be assumed as defaults without any clear notion of where or who they might be in this particular town. If an unfortunate occasion arises, their uniqueness can be established. Yet communication would operate very slowly if we had to establish uniqueness merely in order to talk about these entities.

3.7 The spreading activation model of knowledge use, as frequently cited in this book, is relevant to definiteness. Although it is not decided whether spreading is consciously controlled or not (cf. M. Posner & Snyder 1975), definiteness can be one means for channelling it. The appearance of a definite entity not previously mentioned would then have the effect of singling out a point in knowledge space to which activation is assumed to have spread. DETERMINATE and TYPICAL links clearly provide the soundest basis for that assumption. Consider this news item (Florida Independent Alligator, Oct. 9, 1979):

 

(84) A seat belt saved a UF student when he fell asleep at the wheel of his 1977 Subaru and turned off into the path of a train.

 

The definiteness of ‘wheel’ arises as a determinate ‘part-of’ a ‘Subaru’, and that of ‘path’ as a typical ‘’location-of-motion-of’ a ‘train’.

3.8 Perhaps the following definition merits consideration: definiteness con spread to any text-world entity standing in a determinate or typical linkage (cf. III.3.15) to an entity whose definiteness is already establishedin the textual world. To see how this principle would work, imagine that (85.1) were a text beginning; any of the continuations in (85.2) should then’ be acceptable via the link types (from III.4.7) cited in square brackets:

 

(85.1)     Never before had we seen such a house.

(85.2a) The plot of land was quite deserted. [location-of]

(85.2b) The rectangular outline looked oddly lopsided. [form-of]

(85.2c) The walls were leaning inward. [part-ofi

(85.2d) The plaster was peeling off. [substance-of]

(85.2c) The furniture was awfully rickety. [containment-of]

(85.2f) The edifice seemed doomed to collapse. [motion-of]

 

In all of these continuations, the ‘house’is taken as a topic node and thus as a control center to which new material is preferentially connected (cf. III.4.27). This configuration is shown graphically in Figure 22, with all continuations included.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However, if the linkage were accidental, definiteness would not be so likely to spread, e.g. (85.2g) being an odd continuation:

 

(85.2g) The canary seemed depressed. [containment-of]

 

The oddness of some of my school children’s ‘parts of a house’ (III.3.26) is due to accidentalness. Definiteness also seems reluctant to spread down longer pathways, so that (85.2h) is an odd continuation if the house’s inhabitant is meant:

 

 (85.2h) The face was terribly ugly. [part-of-agent-of-possession-of?]

 

If a single accidental instance is taken from an otherwise accessible class, we are adding an ‘instance-of’ link. Again, definiteness is not clear in such continuations as:

 

(85.2i) The nail was rusty. [instance-of-part-of]

(85.2j) The brick hurt my elbow. [instance-of-part-of]

 

We can improve upon these continuations by providing some intermediary entities not included in numerous classes:3 [3. There may be a constraint that definiteness cannot spread to an accidental instance of an unordered class unless the class itself is first evoked.]

 

(85.2k) The nail holding the name-plate on the front door was rusty. [location-of-location-of-part-of]

(85.21) The brick protruding furthest from the fireplace hurt my elbow. [part-of-part-of]

 

3.9 Linkages to an event can function like these linkages to an object. If a text begins with (86.1), then the continuations in (86.2a-c) connect up to the whole event:

 

(86.1) The sun was just emerging from behind a cloud.

(86.2a) The day was not yet over. [time-of]

(86.2b) The sudden brightness blinded our eyes. [cause-of]

(86.2c) The improvement in our spirits was remarkable. [reason-of]

 

We could also link back to ‘sun’ as object:

 

(86.2d) The golden color was impressive. [attribute-of]

(86.2c) The orb blazed down on us. [form-of]

 

3. 10 Inclusion in classes, superclasses, and metaclasses (III.3.19f.) renders these matters quite intricate. One entity which usually has no unique or identifiable referent is the PROTOTYPE (cf. P. Hayes 1977; Fahlman 1977; Rosch 1977; Brachman 1978a; Webber 1978). The prototypical member has a determinate “instance-of” link to its class, to the extent that the class has a discoverable identity. In a conversation like the following from The Importance of Being Earnest (Wilde 1940 [original 1899]: 420):

 

(87.1) ALGERNON: In married life, three is company and two is none.

(87.2) JACK: That is the theory that the corrupt French Drama has been propounding for the last fifty years.

(87.3) ALGERNON: Yes, and that the happy English  home has proved in half the time.

 

It matters little if speakers have any particular French drama or English home in mind. The context demands no more than a FUZZY concept which supplies the needed content. 

3.11 A class combined with scales of values can yield a SUPERLATIVE as the class member situated at the extreme end of a scale. Because value scales are in the main imprecise, superlatives share the fuzziness of prototypes. The usage of ‘the prince whose gift she liked most’ in (82.2) is straightforward enough, since the princess’s decision will automatically define the referent. But when Leroy Brown was asserted in the American pop song back around 1977 to have been:

 

(88) the baddest [i.e. toughest] man in the whole damn town

 

no one would seriously suppose a precise value determination. Leroy is simply being characterized as an extreme representative of the already extreme class of ‘bad men in south Chicago’. Where competition is so keen, empirical verification would be absurd (and mighty dangerous). In this one textual world, Leroy was the superlative, at least until his sudden demise, ‘like a picture puzzle with some pieces missing’.

3.12 As I mentioned in III.1.3, logicians have traditionally been concerned with at least certain aspects of classes and class inclusions, namely those that fall under the heading of QUANTIFICATION (cf. Stegmüller 1969: 15f.). As I observed at a philosopher’s symposium at the University of Bielefeld in June 1979, logicians generally suppose that definiteness and the use of definite articles depends on the types of quantification described in III.1.3. My own impression was that quantification has been introduced not so much for matters of this kind, but for the special requirements of logic in constructing valid proofs. In the following famous example, we have a universally characterized class of ‘men’ in (89. 1) and the unique member ‘Socrates’ in (89.2):

 

(89.1) All men are mortal.

(89.2) Socrates is a man.

(89.3) Therefore, Socrates is mortal.

 

Although the proof is clearly valid, I do not see why it should depend particularly on definiteness of existence or uniqueness. We might replace ‘men’ and ‘Socrates’ with ‘unicorns’ or ‘the King Louis XIII of France’s pet pageboy’ without making the line of reasoning faulty. The questions of existence and definiteness, I submit, hinge upon context of occurrence. The demands of formal logics for precise quantification far exceed the conditions of many contexts of everyday communication. Whereas logicians have for years debated the status of the donkey in the (according to the redoubtable Texan Robert F. Simmons, who vowed prospectors love their donkeys, utterly false) assertion:

 

(90) Every man who owns a donkey beats it.

 

the language user need merely create a default donkey with whatever further traits (besides being beaten) are required for the textual world. The demands exerted by logical quantification are far too strict for natural language communication. For the text psychologist, the interesting questions are rather how people recognize objects, and under what conditions they are more or less disposed to believe statements. People concern themselves with existence and abstract truth only in special contexts.

3.13 INDEFINITENESS, I suggested in V.3.5, is the property of entities for which no knowledge space is currently active. The beginning of our rocket text:

 

      (35.1.1) A great black and yellow V-2 rocket 46 feet long stood in a New Mexico desert.

 

accordingly instructs the reader to create active nodes for ‘rocket’ and ‘desert’ and to hang the supplied attributes, locations, etc. onto them. However, the text could also have begun with ‘The great black and yellow V-2 rocket […]’ and still have been perfectly coherent. The effect would be the writer’s commitment to make further use of the node beyond that one statement. For example, Through the Looking Glass (Carroll 1960: 175) starts right out with the statement:

 

        (91) One thing was certain, that the white kitten had had nothing to do with it.

 

The reader justly expects to hear at least enough about the white kitten to make the statement believable (and will have a long time to wait!). Such usage is very widespread in texts whose format requires engaging the reader’s interest, because a knowledge deficit is created. In one collection of short essays (G. Levin [ed.] 1977), definite articles for not yet established entities at the beginning of texts is clearly the rule, not the exception (cf. Harweg 1968b):

 

 (92) Each year I watched the field across from the Store turn caterpillar green. (Maya Angelo, p. 13)

(93) The judging formally begins with the Saturday luncheon at the Heart of Wilson Motel. (Frank Deford, p. 115)

(94) The train, its metal wheels squealing as they spin along the silvery tracks, rolls slower now. (Robert Ramirez, p. 127)

(95)     Before you even get the cone, you have to do a lot of planning. (L. Rust Hills, p. 182)

 

3.14 The introduction of entities as definite right at the beginning of the text does not disprove or undermine the status of the definite/indefinite distinction. We do see that, given a regularity of natural language communication, people freely do just the opposite for special effect. It is pointless to argue whether the essays just cited are “well-formed.” In a linguistics of actual texts, a rule such as ‘Use the indefinite article for the first mention, and the definite for later mention” can be no more than I DEFAULT or PREFERENCE (d. 1.3.4.3). Communication takes place gainst a baekdrop of defaults and preferences, but text users will go their own ways when it is expedient to do so (cf. 1.3.4.8).

3.15 The treatment of PROTOTYPES illustrates another facet of the definite/ indefinite distinction. Either of the following utterances could be produced in a situation of receiving unqualified advice:

 

   (96a) A layman shouldn’t give advice to an expert.

   (96b) The layman shouldn’t give advice to the expert.

 

If one utters (96a), bearers are instructed to look immediately into the situational context for referents, so that the indefiniteness is removed. One can use (97b) with a less obvious directness, because the tendency is to envision prototypes for the class of laymen and experts. Once more, the question of “well-formedness” would miss the main point.

3.16 Indefiniteness could also be applied unconventionally. If we had the utterance (traditional saying):

 

(96)     A man who never loses his head doesn’t have a had to lose.5 [5. A similar saying in German goes back to Gotthold Ephraim Lessing.]

 

the usage ‘a head’ presents as indefinite something that is a determinate “part-of” ‘man’. The effect is to weaken the determinateness of that link by suggesting that there could be men without heads after all.

3.17 The definiteness of text-world entities, as we can see, is complex. The usual criteria (cf. V.3.1f.) for exploring the issues are too narrow. If people could assign definiteness only to uniquely identifiable objects in the world, or objects whose existence (either singly or as a class) has been explicitly asserted, communication as we now find it would scarcely be feasible. We might make better headway by treating definiteness as something that arises out of the connectivity of stored knowledge being used in a real situation, where efficiency is referring expressions.

 

4. CO-REFERENCE VIA PRO-FORMS

 

4.1 If REFERENCE is the relationship between expressions and the objects, events, and situations in a world those expressions designate (III.1.3). The use of alternative expressions in a text for the same text-world entity could be termed CO-REFERENCE. Although there are many types of co-reference, (e.g. synonyms, paraphrase), I shall explore only co-reference via PRO-FORMS. Pro-forms are derivative in their actuãIized content from their co-referring expressions. As such, pro-forms differ from their co-referring expressions in systematic ways (cf. Padučeva 1970; Dressler 1972a: 26f.):

 

4.1.1 Pro-forms have a wider range of potential application.

4.1.2 Pro-forms are comparatively empty of inherent content.

4.1.3 Pro-forms are usually shorter-a fact which Dressier (1972a: 26f.) sees in agreement with Zipf’s (1 935) “law”. the more frequently a word is used, the shorter it tends to be or become.

4.1.4 Pro-forms obey constraints upon their occurrences, such that comprehension is not rendered unduly problematic.

4.1.5 Pro-forms need a distinctive surface appearance. In English, PRONOUNS are the only word class in the nominal system that maintains different forms for gender (masculine, feminine, neuter) and case (subject vs. object)-nouns distinguish at most possessive, singular, and plural. DEICTICS (pointing words) generally begin with ‘th-’and are the only word class in which initial ‘th- ’is voiced in pronunciation (except the article ‘the’ and the pro-forms ‘they/their/them).

 

     4.2 PRONOUNS are the best known type of pro-forms. In general, they have as co-referent expressions nouns appearing in the text (cf. Postal 1969). Yet some uses of pronouns do not follow this application, for instance, in the popular American imperatives:

 

(98) Stop it!

(99)  Hold it!

(100) Forget it!

(101) Shove it!

 

Inferencing may be required to recover some referents, as in the well-known slogan of the Bell Telephone Company:

 

(102) Calling long distance is the next best thing to being there.

 

where ‘there’ must be co-referent with an inferrable location. Pronouns may apply to entities whose previous introduction did not occur via nouns, as in a recent statement by a U.S. newscaster:

 

(103) The Congressional privilege of giving consent to treaties is one they seem unwilling to sacrifice.

 

where the co-referent must be derived from the adjective ‘Congressional’.

     4.3 If other expressions sharing referents are used together with pronouns, the natural order would seem to be from most specific to least. Lakoff (1968a) foresees an order of. (1) proper name; (2) specific description; (3) a general class name; and (4) pronoun. An invented example might be:

 

(104.1) Napoleon entered the room. (104.2) The famous general made some announcement. (104.3) The man was very excited. (104.4) He spoke at top speed.

 

Yet this order is far from obligatory. A text producer might use just the reverse in order to create a knowledge deficit (like the deficit evoked by introducing new entities as definite, cf. V. 3.13). We find that tactic used for suspense in this passage by the marvellous Russian story-teller Nikolai Leskov (1961: 55). The door to the cell of the Archbishop mysteriously opens:

 

(105) Who should walk in but a venerable old man in whom his Grace immediately recognized one of the saints of the church, no other than the Right Reverend Sergius.

 

The order of ‘who-man-saint-Sergius’ is a complete reversal of that foreseen by Lakoff,6 [This example is not meant as a refutation of Lakoff, who was dealing with sequels where each element was in a invented separate sentence. Rather, it illustrates how flexible language regularities are in general (cf. note 10 to Chapter 1).] and the gradual emergence of the mysterious figure’s identity is perfectly matched to the gradual increase of specificity in the co-referring expressions. The usage is both effective and appropriate (cf. 1.4.14).

4.4 The replacement of surface expressions also brings up the problem of class inclusions such as we saw in V.3.10ff. The pro-forms can refer to the same set of entities as their co-referent expressions (examples here from Webber 1978: 45): (106a) Several linguists attended the masquerade. They were dressed up as cyclic transformations. But distinctions can be found between a COLLECTIVE inclusion, as in (106b), and a DISTRIBUTIVE inclusion, as in (106c):

 

(106b) Several linguists attended the masquerade. They all came as parse trees.

(106c) Several linguists attended the Yorktown Strutters’ Ball. They each came dressed as a different transderivational constraint. [Insider joke: The original hit tune was the 'Darktown Strutters’ Ball', but IBM Labs, known at the time for airy, boastful claims about its language programs, are in Yorktown Heights.]

 

This distinction has important effects upon the text-world model, as these examples (from Webber 1978: 44) reveal:

 

(107a) The three men who tried to lift a piano dropped it.

(107b) The three men who tried to lift a piano dropped them.

 

The pronoun ‘it’ creates a textual world with the men lifting one piano together, while ‘them’ leaves us with the three lifting one piano each.

4.5 The efficiency of pro-forms is especially evident when they apply to large stretches of discourse that activate sizeable knowledge spaces:

 

(108) “Give your evidence,” said the King, “and don’t be nervous, or I’ll have you executed on the spot.” This did not encourage the witness at all. (Carroll 1960: 148) 6

 

In (108), ‘this’ stands for the entire content of what the King of Hearts has said, and places the entirety in a ‘reason-of’ relation to the state of the ‘witness’. A pro-form can even stand for a block of content whose limits are left open by remaining unexpressed:

 

     (109) “My father and mother were honest, though poor—”

      ‘Skip all that!” cried the Beliman in haste.

        I skip forty years,” said the Baker in tears

        (The Hunting of the Snark, [Carroll 1973: 63])

 

The depiction of forty years would have constituted a vast expanse of content.

4.6 Pro-forms also serve in the REPUDIATION of some portion of previously expressed content (cf. IV.3.12), as in (Belloc 1940: 177f.):

 

         (110) I shoot the hippopotamus

                   With bullets made of platinum

          Because if I use leaden ones

          His hide is sure to flatten ‘em.

 

The class of ‘bullets’ is divided into the subclass of ‘platinum’ versus ‘leaden’, and the expectation that the latter subclass should be used is repudiated. In the following remark of the White King, ‘one’ designates a currently present member of the class of ‘Pencils” while a still indefinite ‘thinner’ member is envisioned:

 

        (111) My dear, I must get a thinner pencil. I can’t manage this one a bit. (Carroll 1960: 190)

.

Different referents in a textual world can be similar in every respect but one, and the pro-form need only attach that respect to keep them distinct, as in the case of Tweedledee and Tweedledum (Carroll 1960: 229, e.a.):

 

(112) She was just going around to see if the word “TWEEDLE” was written on the back of each collar, when she as startled by a voice coming from the one marked “DUM.”

 

The pro-form ‘one’ is useful also if the entity in question is to be kept indefinite (Carroll 1960: 100):  

 

(113) The March Hare said: “I vote the young lady tells us a story.” “I’m afraid I don’t know one,” said Alice.

 

4.7 For reusing event-based knowledge, PRO-VERBS can be employed, such as ‘do’ (Carroll 1960: 47):  

 

 (114) “I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and what’s more, I don’t believe you do, either.”  

 

The pro-form ‘so’ could can be added on to ‘do’in order to cover material attached to the original verb:

 

 (115) To this day I am ashamed that I did not spring up and pinion him then and there. Had I possessed one ounce of physical courage, I should have done so. (Beerbohm 1958: 57).

 

This ‘do so’ carries forward the content of an entire phrase of two actions with direction and time. Alternately, ‘do it’ can perform such a function:

 

(116) “Smoothe her hair — lend her your nightcap — and sing her a soothing lullaby.” “I haven’t got a nightcap with me,” said Alice, as she tried to obey the first direction; “and I don’t know any soothing lullabies.” “I must do it myself then,” said the Red Queen. (Carroll 1960: 326)

 

The pro-forms pick up the content of two out of three mentioned actions.

4.8 By selecting pro-forms of various word-classes, speakers can allow hearers to. re-utilize their mapping strategies between grammatical and conceptual dependencies. For ‘spring up/pinion [...] then and there’, the ‘do so’ repeats the “head-to-modifier” dependency (II.2.15.7). For ‘lend [...] nightcap/sing [...] lullaby’, the ‘do it’ repeats the “verb-to-direct object” dependency (II.2.15.2). One might consider setting up a scheme with designations like “pro-modifier,’ “pro-direct object,’ etc. However, pro-forms can have diverse applications in the same occurrence. In:

 

(117) Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous. (Julius Caesar, 11. ii, 194-95)

 

the pro-modifier ‘such’ carries forward both the modifiers ‘lean and hungry’ and the “cognition”-verb ‘think too much’. In the following sample, the text receiver is left to infer, as co-referent for ‘such’, an attribute not expressed in a surface modifier at all: (Carroll 1960: 279):

 

(118) “I see nobody on the road,: said Alice. “I only wish I had such eyes,” the King remarked in a fretful tone. “To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance too!”

 

The King’s remarks suggest that the implied modifier might be ‘good’ or ‘sharp’.

4.9 Pro-forms are far more likely to occur ANAPHORICALLY, i.e. after their co-referring expressions, than CATAPHORICALLY, i.e. before them. The anaphoric use would provide a control center to which the material attached to the pro-form can be readily added on (cf. III.4.27). It is harder to envision how cataphoric use can be managed. The pro-form might be placed on a HOLD STACK until its co-referring expression occurs (cf. II.2. 10); or it might be left as an unlabeled state in FUZZY PARSING until labelling becomes feasible (cf. IV.1.10). In either case, it would not be advisable to create substantial distance between the pro-form and its co-referring expression. Cataphora is most common inside the single sentence, e.g. in this student paper from the University of Florida:

 

 (119) I don’t know if he’s serious, but my roommate wants to walk a tightrope over Niagra Falls.

 

Cataphora can also announce a large block of content that spans a series of utterances:

 

       (120)  That you have wronged me doth appear in this:

    You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella

    For taking bribes here of the Sardians,

    Wherein my letters, praying on his side

    Because I knew the man, were slighted off.

    (Julius Caesar, IV, iii, 1-5)

 
Like definiteness, cataphora can be used to create a knowledge deficit that will be later filled (cf. V.3.13). Warwick Deeping (1930: 720) deliberately begins a story with a cataphoric pro-noun for which the co-referring expression is postponed to the end of a long sentence:

 

(121) Her father was a snuffy little man, who, after living for fifteen years as. a widower in the white house at the end of Prospect Terrace, had developed mannerisms and peculiarities that were neither criticized nor questioned by his daughter.

 

4.10 The constraints upon cataphora are part of the conditions of language processing at large. It is hard to maintain connectivity between elements which are either placed far apart or whose identity is uncertain because of alternative candidates. Our ‘rocket’ sample (35) in III.4.20, however, shows that these difficulties can be offset, for example, by attaching co-references across wide spaces to a TOPIC node; or by considering what concepts are preferentially compatible in the sense of Wilks (1978) (e.g. ‘rocket-plunge’).

4.11 Ambiguous pro-forms have received considerable attention in linguistics, such as the classic example:

 

        (122) I love my wife. So does Harry.

 

where the social implications of the possible textual worlds might be intriguing for bored but lascivious linguistics professors in the American Midwest back before cable TV and 901-numbers. If English differentiated reflexivity in the way that Russian does, this kind of ambiguity would be precluded (Dressler 1972a: 24). All the same, such ambiguities are seldom really unresolvable. Wallace Chafe (1976:47)suggests that in:

 

       (123) Ted saw Harry yesterday. He told him about the meeting.

 

the co-referents might easily be sorted by keeping the subject and direct object slots constant, hence ‘Ted = he’ and ‘Harry = him’. That account would agree with the principle of STABILITY (V.1.7), though it may be agents rather than subjects that are decisive here. But world-knowledge is surely an overriding factor. For a sample such as:

 

        (124) Billy told Johnny’s mother that he hit him.

 

we might not rely on stability of subject or agent (making ‘Billy’ do the ‘hitting) so much as on the knowledge that children tell parents about others’ misdeeds much more often than about their own (hence ‘Billy’ got hit, and no doubt deserved it). Still more constraining is this passage about the death of a solicitor (Ipswich Journal, Jan. 12, 1878):

 

(125) He was going to the Court, when he staggered as if in a fit, and fell against the wall close to the watchman’s room in the central hall. The watchman and a policeman, running to his assistance, took him into a room. Some brandy was administered to no effect, and Mr. Bond, the surgeon of Parliament Street, arriving, he pronounced him dead.

 

A language user with “autonomous syntax” would spend a long time computing alternatives about who pronounced whom dead (solicitor? watchman? policeman? surgeon?); most real readers notice only one possibility. Anything else would call for some odd elaboration, e.g.:

 

(125a) So much brandy was administered that when Mr. Bond, the surgeon of Parliament Street, arrived, the solicitor drunkenly pronounced him dead. And then died as if by mistake.

 

Indeed, world-knowledge will find referents even where a wrong pro-form is used (headline from the Midnight Globe, July 4, 1978):

 

(126) Sophia Loren reveals love scandals that haunt my marriage.7 [The effect is like “erlebte Rede’— Ms. Loren seems to be speaking herself, though the predicate has a third-person verb.]

 

4.12 With so many supporting factors to use, the recovery of a wrong co-referent is unlikely and might signal a refusal or inability to communicate. Gracie’s mistake in applying ‘it’ to her ‘car’ rather than the ‘pile of trash’ back in (2) (II.1.8) would not be made by any reasonable person. To create a non-text without ‘an atom of meaning in it’, Lewis Carroll (1960: 158) needs merely to provide no co-referents for pro-forms:

 

        (127) They told me you had been to her,

    And mentioned me to him […]

 

Throughout this poem, no cues regarding identity are forthcoming. A language model using world-knowledge is justly stumped here, though a reader with a strong enough attitude on acceptability can wring some meaning even from these verses, as the King of Hearts demonstrates.

4.13 The TRADE-OFF between compactness and rapid access already mentioned in regard to the storage of knowledge in memory (III.3.18) is also applicable to the use of co-reference via pro-forms. The pro-forms allow an enormous savings in the creation and utilization of surface structure. But the gain would be lost again if there were problematic ambiguities in the identification of the co-referring expressions. I have argued above that people use all kinds of cues to preclude ambiguities which the pro-forms themselves, due to their inherent indeterminacy, might allow. The fact that actual misunderstandings are so seldom in human communication is an impressive indicator of the co-operative nature of textuality (especially intentionality and acceptability), and of the regulatory controls upon systemic actualization (cf. 1.4.5. 1).

 

5. EXOPHORIC REFERENCE

 

5.1 In exophoric reference, the pro-forms apply directly to entities recoverable in the situation, rather than via co-referent expressions in the same text or discourse. Such a device strongly argues against a division between language and its settings (cf. III.3.18). Exophora is particularly efficient in that it bypasss the intermediary step of concept-naming. Even more than anaphora and cataphora, exophora depends crucially on context. If a concept’s meaning is its place in a textual world, the meaning of an exophoric expression’s referent is its place in a text-world with focus on the situational world of communicating. For example, (128) was used as the very first utterance of a conversation by someone opening a door and finding a familiar person outside:

 

       (128) She’s not here.

 

The speaker was aware of the visitor’s usual intention to pay a call on a certain person, and the visitor in turn knew about that awareness.

5.2 In some situations, the pro-form can be applied to entities that may not be given conceptual classification:

 

       (129) What on earth is that?

       (130) I can’t believe this!

 

These uses can also signal that the speaker’s expectations — provided they are presupposed to be known to the hearer-are being disappointed, so that an explanation or change is in order.

5.3 Exophora is handy for SITUATION MANAGING, where participants might have conflicting views about what is going on. Some robbers recently confronted the drivers of an armored car with (Gainesville Sun, Dec. 20, 1978):

 

       (131) This is a holdup. We’re not kidding.

 

Their description of the situation was, as might be expected, reinforced with the authority of firearms (cf. Goffman 1974: 447). When an engineer said about the Arizona floods (V.2.1) (Gainesville Sun, Dec. 20, 1978):

 

        (132) It’s going to get worse before it gets better.

 

there was no clear definition of what the ‘it’ designated; presumably the entire situation brought about by the events being depicted in previous utterances.

5.4 Halliday and Hasan (1976: 53) cite several types of “institutionalized exophoric reference” in which pro-forms are conventionally used without commitment to specific conceptual content:

 

5.4.1 First and second person pronouns are inherently exophoric, and their use presupposes the mutual identifiability of the communicative participants, though more directly for speaking than for writing. Conceptual content enters prominently when the referents are assigned to METACLASSES (III.3.20):

 

       (133) O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! (Hamlet, 11, ii, 576)

       (134) You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! (Julius Caesar, 1, i, 40)

 

5.4.2 A conceptually empty dummy (II.2.15.6) is employed in subject slots for describing the state of the weather:

 

       (135) It’s raining/ snowing/ hailing/ etc.

 

The preferences for mapping continuous events onto verbs and for having at least one subject and verb in a clause (III.4.26) creates a need for a dummy subject lacking content, agency or instrumentality. This usage might be designated by the French term “servitude grammaticale.”

5.4.3 A frequently unspecified ‘they’ points toward anonymous agents whose status is not currently relevant, let alone ‘uniquely identifiable” (V.3.1), as in this opening from a student’s paper:

 

       (136) They told me when I came here I would have to work hard.

 

These vague agents are DEFAULT entities created for the connectivity of events (cf. V.3.3.6), and they are processed no further than they need to be.

5.4.4 A partly non-determinate ‘we’ permits the speaker to include himself or herself into a broad class of undetermined size, e.g. in another fragment from that student’s paper:

 

       (137) In Florida, we don’t see things like other Southerners.

 

The writer probably had no intention of including the entire class of Florida inhabitants, but only a group of PROTOTYPES (V.3.3.7). Another vague use of ‘we’ is enlisted to “identify the writer and reader as involved in a joint enterprise” (Quirk et al. 1972: 208), as in this passage from the Atomic Energy Commission (cited and discussed in Beaugrande 1977b: 329):

 

       (138) Now we are hearing more and more about another kind of radiation [ ...]

 

Here, the expert writer and the lay readers are hardly ‘hearing’ about ‘atornic energy in any comparable way. But the hope of obtaining readers’ support for atomic power plants makes it desirable to evoke solidarity, however phoney.

5.4.5 In general, ‘you’ serves as agent for actions that are considered typical, whoever may be doing them. We find this element also in students’ papers, for example:

 

       (139) You never know what the teacher wants on these assignments.

 

Advertisers are fond of suggesting a personal address with ‘you’, even though they are talking to an anonymous group (cf. Marcuse 1964:92). One brand of car, for instance, claims to be (TIME, Nov. 13, 1978):

 

         (140) The difference between a car you like and a car you love.

 

This ‘You’ is a cross between an impersonal pro-form and the kind of direct address we see in this ad (TIME, Nov. 13, 1978):

 

            (141) Could the car you’re driving pass this test?

 

5.5 A tendency to rely on exophora without clear conceptualization is noted by Halliday and Hasan (1976: 34), who supply this dialogue between Hasan and their three-year old son (stressed words in italics):

 

(142) CHILD: Why does that one come out?

 HASAN: That what?

 CHILD:  That one!

 HASAN: That what?

 CHILD: That o n e!

 HASAN: That one what?

 CHILD:  That lever there that you push to let the water out.

 

The child was reluctant to provide a conceptual description, assuming that the adult must have the same focus of attention as he himself. The shifting of stress among pro-forms indicates his hope that more emphatic pointing will do the job. The ‘you’ in his final remark is that cited in V.5.4.5.

5.6 In a highly publicized study, Peter Hawkins (1969) noted exophora in descriptions of pictured scenes to be more prevalent in the speech of working- class children than in that of middle-class. His illustrations were like this.

 

       (143a) Three boys are playing football and one kicks the ball and it goes through the window

       (143b) They’re playing football and he kicks it and it goes through there […]

 

 Influenced by Basil Bernstein (cf. Bernstein 1964), Hawkins took this material as a demonstration of the divergence between the “elaborated code” of the middle class (i.e., having many options) and the “restricted code” of the working class (i.e., having few options). Aside from the dubiousness of these notions (cf. Oevermann 1970), they seem to miss the point here. The working-class children probably saw no reason for conceptual naming of events and objects which they could see and point out in front of them. In contrast, the middle-class children probably had much richer experience with the WRITTEN code, whose ‘elaborateness” is due to its frequent removedness from an apperceivable situation. Also, the middle-class children would identify an interview with a school situation where the written code is favored. Still, (142) shows that even a child of two celebrated university professors tends naturally to rely on exophora in relaxed situations. Perhaps Hawkins would have us view Shakespeare as a user of the “restricted code” because of exophora in this famous scene from Hamlet (III, iv, 131-34)?

 

(144) QUEEN: To whom do you speak this?

HAMLET: Do you see nothing there?

QUEEN: Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

HAMLET: Nor did you nothing hear?

QUEEN: No thing but ourselves.

HAMLET: Why, look you there! Look how it steals away!8 [8. For an Elizabethan audience, the spectral  referent might well have been real enough. See now Zeffirelli's and Branagh’s magnificent film versions.)

 

5.7 Halliday and Hasan (1976: 36) point out the influence of PEER GROUPS on exophoric reference. They quote Bernstein’s listing of “close-knit social groups” compiled without apparent realization of the biting sarcasm in this juxtaposition: “prison inmates, combat units of the armed forces, criminal subcultures, the peer group of children and adolescents, and married couples of long standing.” The close-knitness of working-class children, as suggested by the Hawkins data, might have much to do with their limited social mobility.

5.8 Conceivably, the superfluous pronouns taken as social markers in phrases like:

 

       (145) My sister she plays the piano. (student data)

 

are quasi-exophoric. Due to predominant experience with the spoken mode, text producers might use a two-stage means of referring (1) present a concept name; and (2) co-refer to the concept via a pro-form. Significantly, this construction appears, as far as I can judge, virtually always in subject slots — we would not, for instance, encounter:

 

        (146) They gave my sister her a piano it.

 

If this account is justified, the initial naming of the concept (‘my sister) in (145) would function as an announcement of TOPIC that is not deemed a part of the subject-verb dependency. Apparently, the creation of a control center for the conceptual-relational network is detached from that for the grammatical dependency network—a departure from a standard preference (cf. III.4.14).

5.9 In principle, exophora can be applied to whatever is evident in the communicative situation. Entering a room where food was spilled on the floor, a Florida mother was recently heard to say to her child:

 

(147) You did that?

 

where the entire utterance consists of pro-forms. However, as the late Adrian Akmajian (personal communication) notes, there are some constraints upon the compacting of utterances. The mother could have said (148a), but hardly (148b), and almost certainly not (148c) or (148d):

 

(148a) You?

(148b) That?

(148c) Did?

(148d) You that?

 

5.10 Exophora demonstrates the reciprocity of the interaction between language use and situation. The situation strongly effects the actualization of strategies, but certain conventions will nonetheless be upheld. In the samples (148a-d), the terseness of exophora is constrained by the sequencing operations of English. We shall note further illustrations of the limits upon terseness of expression in the next section on ellipsis.

 

6. ELLIPSIS

 

6.1 Discussions of ellipsis, sometimes arcanely called “substitution by zero,” have been marked by controversy (compare Karlsen 1959; Gunter 1963; Isačenko 1965; Crymes 1968; Dressler 1970b; Halliday & Hasan 1976; Grosz 1977). The dispute might be stated as follows. The surface structures in texts are often not so complete as they might be in the judgment of the investigator. Language theories with clearly drawn boundaries of grammatical or logical well-formedness necessarily proliferate the treatment of utterances as elliptical, according to the explicitness of the well-formed idealizations. An extreme view is suggested by Clark and Clark (1977: 16) when they assert that (149a) is really an “elliptical” version of (149b):  

 

(149a) Napoleon conquered Italy, Prussia, and Austria.

(149b) Napoleon conquered Italy, Napoleon conquered Prussia, and Napoleon conquered Austria.

 

It is hard to see the psychological justification for such a claim. It would seem either to exhume the old notion that people have to work with kernel sentences in communication; or to imply an overly literal interpretation of the notion of the PROPOSITION LIST (cf. VII.3.6). A processor would scarcely create three separate entries for ‘Napoleon’ and ‘conquered’ for either (149a) or (149b).

6.2 The standpoint apparently advanced by the Clarks would make it necessary to view most utterances as elliptical, and to bloat procedures enormously with redundant entries requiring subsequent removal. Even less extreme examples seem difficult to classify as elliptical. In the following samples from an essay by star athlete Jim Brown  (in Levin [ed.] 1977:42ff.), I have added in square brackets items that might conceivably be considered elided:

 

(150) Manhasset was going to be just as playful as St. Simons Island [was].

(151) She was, no doubt, a good woman, but [she was] quite [a] stern [woman].

(152) I loved my mother as much as any son would [love his mother].

 

It is still questionable whether the production and comprehension of these fragments as they stand would be improved or impeded by filling in the bracketed additions. I argued in II.2.36f. and III.4.40 that people could not plausibly be converting everything they say or understand into complete sentences. If they did that, they ought to prefer talking in complete sentences much more than they do. Grammatical completing turns out many pointless, undecidable structures. Similar dilemmas attend upon such a literal interpretation of the notion of proposition lists as the Clarks seem to accept. Walter Kintsch (1977a: 312) reports that (153a) is indeed easier to perceive than (153b):

 

      (153a) Fred runs faster than the girl.

      (153b) Fred runs faster than the girl runs.

 

A model of completion-then-deletion predicts the opposite findings. A model using conceptual-relational networks, on the other hand, is in agreement, since (153b) requires testing to see if a second node is needed in addition to an earlier one, as opposed to direct reutilization of one node in (153a).

6.3 If the surface unity is taken to be the GRAMMATICAL DEPENDENCY between two elements, one of which at least cannot stand alone, then ellipsis ought to be identifiable via a dangling structural component. We can use empirical tests to probe people’s judgments on missing components, analogous to the studies of grammatical expectations (e.g. Stevens & Rumelhart 1975), although bearing in mind their expectations about text types (cf. my findings given in 11.2.36). We would be able to settle the dispute on the basis of what language users, rather than abstract sentence grammarians, consider to be elliptical.

6.4 The phenomenon of GAPPING (Ross 1970b) can safely qualify as ellipsis: a follow-up utterance without a verb, but with a structure otherwise similar to its predecessor’s, as in this ungainly and obtuse synopsis of a Brecht play (Ohio State Lantern, Sept. 30, 1970):

 

      (154) It is the story of someone trying to achieve something (Mother Courage survival).

 

The sequence ‘Mother Courage survival’ is noticeably discontinuous (even by Ohio standards), and must be given connectivity via transfer from the preceding structure to yield ‘Mother Courage trying to achieve survival’. The transfer is eased by the fact that the preceding structure contains placeholders ‘someone’, ‘something), so that a reader would be on the lookout for integrating further knowledge. A preceding structure can supply various quantities of material to fill a gap. In:

 

       (155) PASTOR: Do you promise to have, hold, love, cherish, and respect this man?

   BRIDE: Me him!?

 

the whole series of verbs supplies content addressed by the bride’s response. In a series with diverse direct objects, only applicable ones could be addressed, e.g.:

 

(156)  PASTOR: Do you promise to have a fit, hold your tongue, love your neighbor, cherish this ring, and respect this man?

BRIDE: Me him!?

 

This time, only ‘respect’ carries over into the “gap.”

6.5 The term SLUICING (Dressler 1972a: 35) signifies a device in which the verb in a subordinate clause is elided:

 

       (157) John is busy staring at the girls. I think at the blondes.

 

 Again, a sequence like ’think at the blondes’ is noticeably discontinuous as it stands, and the content of sexist ‘John is staring’ must be carried over.

6.6 Ellipsis is most noticeable for verbs, because English clauses can dispense with other elements more readily. For example, utterances without subjects are more common than those without verbs. However, as Leech and Svartvik (1975: 168) remark, the ellipsis of subjects in subordinate clauses is not usual., we would not be likely to encounter such an utterance as:

 

       (158) He was so tired that went to sleep.

 

This constraint is similar to the requirement of dummy subjects for verbs, even where no agency is to be conceived (cf. V.5.4.2).

6.7 Ellipsis, like co-reference, is helpful for REPUDIATING content that hearers might expect (cf. V.4.6):

 

       (159) And tell them that I will not come to-day.

        Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser. (Julius Caesar, 11, ii, 62-63)

 

In quarrels, ellipsis can be used, with proper intonation, to signal a repudiation of content expressed by someone else (cf. Brazil 1975):

 

(160) BRUTUS: Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm

       CASSIUS: I an itching palm? (Julius Caesar, IV, iii, 9-10, 13)

 

6.8 Under normal conditions, people tolerate substantial ellipsis, depending on the extent to which SITUATIONALITY is mediated (cf. 1.4.11.5). SPREADING ACTIVATION alone would allow for ellipsis of determinate and typical linkage, and INFERENCING could be applied where needed. Even the notoriously disjointed texts of Dickens’ (1899 [1838]: 25) crafty Alfred Jingle are quite intelligible:

 

(161) Negus too strong here—liberal landlord—very foolish—very—lemonade much better—hot rooms—elderly gentlemen—suffer for it in the morning—cruel.

 

Whatever is taken to be missing can be supplied by inferencing as PROBLEM-SOLVING (cf 1.6.4ff.). However, ellipsis as extensive as Mr. Jingle’s is not convenient to hearers who have to perform inferencing in many directions at once in limited time. Having the text preserved in print for readers makes matters easier.

6.9 Uncooperative hearers might, of course, impede communication by supplying inappropriate content for elliptical utterances. Uncle Henry’s response (3.3) cited way back in II.I.8 makes it plain that he does not wish to be sociable. For ellipsis to be unresolvably ambiguous, we would have to find very unusual settings. Imagine the still greater confusion that would make (162) ambiguous, as opposed to (120) with pro-form:

 

         (162) I love my wife. Harry too.

 

6.10 Ellipsis is a further illustration of the TRADE-OFF between compactness and rapid access (cf. III.3.18). Heavy ellipsis, while cutting drastically back on surface structure, would demand increased effort for connecting the underlying text-world model. The presence of ellipsis in varying degrees, each APPROPRIATE to a type of text and situation (cf. I.4.14), is another demonstration of the regulatory controls on actualization.

 

7. JUNCTION

 

7.1 Whereas recurrence, co-reference, and ellipsis keep knowledge spaces current, junction serves to signal the relations between spaces or between entities within spaces. The configurations joined via conjunction, disjunction, and contrajunction are preferentially taken as possessing an analogous surface organization. Previously successful model-building strategies can accordingly be applied to the mapping phase for the following structures (cf. III.4.16.11). This constitutes PATTERN-MATCHING between occurrences of the same text, so that one stretch of input acts as a model for another (cf. IV.4.5; VII.2.36). Junction also signals the comparability and relatedness of elements and configurations in the textual world (cf. VIII.I.24). I shall look into four types of junction:

 

7.1.1 CONJUNCTION links two or more knowledge configurations which, in regard to their environment, are additively the same or similar.

7.1.2 DISJUNCTION links two or more knowledge configurations which, in regard to their environment, are alternatively the same or similar. While in conjunction, all content is taken as valid for the textual world, only one configuration in disjunction need be valid.

7.1.3 CONTRAJUNCTION links two knowledge configurations which, in regard to their environment, are antagonistically the same or similar, i.e. that deal with related topics, but via combinations not foreseen in spreading activation. Both configurations may be true for the textual world, but their inherent relatedness is not obvious.

7.1.4 SUBORDINATION signals that the relationship between two knowledge configurations is hierarchical, i.e., that the determinacy of the one is contingent upon access to the other. Roland Posner (1972) observes that the subordinated material has a lower position on a gradation of relevance (cf. IV.3.8). Unlike other kinds of junction, subordination need not signal any analogous organization of surface structure; indeed, in many languages (e.g. German), subordinate clauses have a markedly dissimilar structure from that of main clauses.

 

7.2 These various relationships among knowledge configurations can often obtain without the explicit use of junction, simply because people have predictable ways of organizing knowledge. It seems reasonable to use the term “junction” only where there are junctive expressions (‘and’, ‘or’’ ‘but’, ‘because’, and so on). The behavior of natural language junctives is in many ways different and much more diversified than that of logical connectives (van Dijk 1977a, 1977b) whose main function is to decide the truth values of complex statements (cf. III.1.1).

7.3 The stories extracted by Hawkins (1969) from children’s protocols illustrate an extreme of conjunction:

 

(163) Three boys are playing football and one boy kicks the ball and it goes through the window and the ball breaks the window and the boys are looking at it and a man comes out [etc.]

 

The joined configurations are similar to each other: actions, motions, and apperceptions; and their surface structuring is comparable. The conjunction signals simple addition of events in a temporal and causal sequence. Because those relations are recoverable from content, the junctive expression ‘and’ is dispensable, or replaceable with subordinatives:

 

(164a) Three boys are playing football. One boy kicks the ball. It goes through the window. [etc.]

(164b) Three boys are playing football when one boy kicks the ball so that it goes through the window. [etc.]

 

This non-committal nature of conjunction makes it the default junction (11.2.24). Also, ‘and’ might be used as a signal of incompleteness (VII.1.18) so as not to lose a speaking turn; or as a filler during whose utterance a continuation of the discourse can be planned out.

7.4 Disjunction, in contrast, requires express signaling and cannot be replaced by subordinative junctives (cf. Leech & Svartvik 1975: 160). Perhaps the processing of disjunctive configurations is difficult, because the exclusivity between alternatives is a threat to connectivity and continuity. To keep a text-world integrated, a processor would want to select the valid alternative and attach it, discarding the others. Disjunction thus functions as an even stronger opposition than contrajunction. Consider the watchman’s refrain from Gilbert and Sullivan’s Iolanthe.:

 

(165) Every man that’s born into this world alive is either a little bit Liberal or else a little Conservative.

 

There was no room here for compromise between alternatives (though by the year 2000 there was far too much compromise). In logic, disjunction also figures as the “law of the excluded middle” (‘either the sun is shining or else it isn’t’, etc.).

7.5 Contrajunction is usually thought of in terms of opposition; but it is, I have suggested, weaker than disjunction in that dimension. Two situations, events, or whatever are treated as inherently not very compatible, yet nonetheless coexisting in a textual world. Accordingly, spreading activation would not be expected to connect the two, and hearers must be alerted. A football player commented on an infamous incident during a game when the tyrannical Woody Hayes actually punched out an opposing player for spoiling his scheme (Gainesville Sun, Dec. 3 1, 1978), since one normally expects that people at a location notice the events there.

 

       (166) I was on the field, but I didn’t see what happened.

 

Many contrajunctions link longer stretches of material (van Dijk 1977a: 87), and the opposition is accordingly more elaborate. Paragraph 7.4 begins with a phrase containing ‘in contrast’ to announce the differences between conjunction and disjunction regarding replaceability by subordination. The reader may have entertained no particular expectations on the matter. Yet if systemic actualization depends on continuity (I.4.4), contrajunction eases transitions between antagonistic knowledge blocks and hence supports stability.

7.6 Subordination signals more detailed and diffuse dependencies than do conjunction, disjunction, and contrajunction. Subordinative junctives can be treated as TAGS on conceptual relations of the types proposed in III.4.7. Their distribution is strikingly unequal across the set of relations, with causal and temporal linkage being much favored over others. The tags for cause, enablement, and reason overlap somewhat: ‘because’. ‘since’, ‘as’, ‘so’, ‘accordingly’, ‘hence’, ‘thus’, etc. Time relations indicate order, such as previous (‘before’), subsequent (‘after’, ‘next’), and concurrent (‘as’, ‘while’); proximity is often entailed. Many relations have junctives made from preposition plus relative pronoun, such as location (‘near which’, ‘under which’), and so forth. The density of tags for causality and time shows the prominence of those relations for organizing textual worlds, at least for the English-speaking cultures, especially in narratives (VIII.2). The one-word junctives for these relations and the several-word junctives for others would illustrate Zipf’s (1935) law of correlation between frequency of use and shortness.9 [9, Indeed, in many dialects of spoken English, ‘because’ has been shortened down to ‘cause’, as we see in sample (230.2) in VIII.I.14.]

7.7 If causality and time relations are indeed so prominent for coherence, they should naturally be favored in spreading activation and inferencing, whether there are surface junctives used or not. The junctives might increase processing case and yet be dispensable. Consider the old nursery rhyme:

 

       (167) The king was in his counting house, counting all his money;

  The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey;

  The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes;

  Along came a blackbird and pecked off her nose.

 

There are no subordinating junctives here; the surface text consists of main-clause sentences. Yet the mere juxtaposition of the statements, reinforced by their parallel structure, gives rise to strong inferences: that the ‘counting-house’, ‘parlor’, and ‘garden’ are proximate in their location; that the actions expressed in the first three lines are proximate in time, while that of the last line interrupts the others; and that it was the maid’s nose, not the queen’s, that was ‘pecked off, because the location of ‘garden’ would enable the bird’s action more readily than ‘parlor’. This inferrability of relations which can dispense with junction is a significant difference between the junctives of natural languages and those employed in logic.

7.8 A text producer might deliberately omit a statement of causality relations, lowering processing case but increasing depth (cf. IV. 1.6). The Bell Telephone Company issues this warning to people doing excavations:

 

       (168) Call us before you dig. You may not be able to afterwards.

 

leaving the reader to recover the disenablement relation when your phone, or maybe even you, gets terminated by electric shock. People also can infer the reason or purpose of utterances on their own. The following sign reputed to be displayed in Swedish youth hostels offers only the advice which the management of the hostel has reason to believe important for the respective groups of addressees:

 

(169) Germans: don’t get up before 6 A.M. Americans: don’t come home after 2 A.M. Italians: don’t sing after 10 P.M. Swedes: don’t bring girls into the hostel.

 

      7.9 Hearers might even infer causality relations that the text producer presumably did not intend. This classified advertisement (Gainesville Sun, Sept. 24, 1978):

 

       (170) For sale: office safe. Owner out of town. Call after 6 P.M.

 

is probably not calculated to encourage the inference that the owner’s absence enables the safe to be stolen after business hours and then quietly sold off. And a psychologist discussing and evaluating the work of Neal E. Miller on motor learning of rats, where curare is used as a local anaesthetic to eliminate any intentional physical interference,10 [10. On the experiments involved and the role of curare, see Gerald Jonas, “Visceral Learning,” New Yorker, Aug. 26, 1972, pp. 49ff. Of course, darts with curare would ‘silence critics’ (or anybody else ) who claimed that Miller’s animals were intentionally producing such effects as altered rate of heartbeat by some trick of the muscles.] was surely not envisioning a causality based on the use of curare by certain South American tribes to manufacture deadly poisonous darts when he said:

 

       (171) Over the years, Miller’s use of curare has silenced many critics.

 

     7.10 I have argued here that explicit subordination provides surface signalling of underlying conceptual relations that might, in some cases, be inferable via world knowledge. The subordinative junctives contribute to the efficiency of processing as long as their use does not become unduly frequent; one would certainly not want to signal every relation with a junctive. The preference strategy is probably to use junctives for relations that cannot be readily inferred because they are variable or non-expected. We saw, however, in (168) that effectiveness can be increased by not employing junction. I would conclude that the use of natural language junctives in communication—quite in contrast to that of logical junctives in proof—should be accounted for in terms of such design criteria as I proposed in I.4.14.

 

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