2.
Ferdinand de Saussure1
2.1
Ferdinand de Saussure's Cours de linguistique générale
(Course in General Linguistics) is a peculiar book, not merely published
but in part composed after the author's death. Since he ‘destroyed the rough
drafts of the outlines used for his lectures’, the editors, Charles Bally,
Albert Sechehaye, and Albert Riedlinger, used ‘the notes collected by
students’ in order to ‘attempt a reconstruction, a synthesis’, and to
‘recreate F. de Saussure's thought’ (CG xviiif). To ‘draw together an
organic whole’, the editors tried to ‘weed out variations and irregularities
characteristic of oral delivery’, and to ‘omit nothing that might contribute
to the overall impression’ (CG xix). Thus, the ‘Saussure’ of the Cours
is a composite voice, speaking from a lecture platform between 1897 and 1911 and
passing through the notebooks of followers who confess that ‘the master’
‘probably would not have authorized the publication of these pages’ (CG xvii,
38, xviiif). Many problems with its formulation and interpretation may reflect
the difficulties of its composition.
2.2
Saussure -- or ‘Saussure’, as I should write perhaps -- seems fully
conscious of his role as founder of a ‘science’. He constantly searches for
generalities, high-level abstractions, and fundamental definitions. Over and
over, he states what is ‘always’ or ‘never’ the case, what applies in
‘each’ or ‘every’ instance, what are the ‘only’ relevant aspects,
and so on. At times, these universalizing assertions may go beyond what can be
demonstrated, or conflict with each other in puzzling ways.2
Formulating the common denominators of Saussurian ‘thought’ can thus be
quite challenging.
2.3
His ‘hesitation to undertake the radical revision which he felt was
necessary’ in linguistics seems to have deterred him from writing a general
book; in fact ‘he could not bring himself to publish the slightest note if he
was not assured first of the fundamental foundations’ (Benveniste 1971: 33).
In a letter to Antoine Meillet dated 4 January 1894 he proclaimed himself
‘disgusted’ ‘with the difficulty’ of ‘writing ten lines concerning the
facts of language which have any common sense’, and with ‘the very great
vanity of everything that can ultimately be done in linguistics’ (ibid., 33f).
He lamented ‘the absolute ineptness of current terminology, the necessity to
reform it, and, in order to do that, to show what sort of subject language in
general is’. In the Cours, he still finds ‘current terminology’
‘imperfect or incorrect at many points’, and its components ‘all more or
less illogical’ (CG 44). Still, he often proposes and defends terms with
bravura, and many of these have become standard. And he ‘does not hesitate to
use’ ‘the expressions condemned’ by ‘the new school’ he envisions (CG
5n) (cf. 2.30).3
2.4
Like most of the theorists in my survey, Saussure was highly discontent with the
state of the discipline (cf. 13.3). He charged that ‘no other field’ was so
beset by ‘mistakes’, ‘aberrations’, ‘absurd notions, prejudices,
mirages, and fictions’ (CG 7, 3f, 97, 215). He deplored ‘the confusion’
‘in linguistic research’ as well as the ‘absurdities of reasoning’, and
the ‘erroneous and insufficient notions’ created by his predecessors (CG 99,
4f) (cf. 2.10). The intent to found a new direction can sharpen such polemics,
especially when established ‘schools’ ‘watch the progress of the new
science suspiciously’ and each ‘mistrusts the other’ (cf. CG 3).
2.5
‘Before finding its true and unique object’, ‘the science that has been
developed around the facts of language passed through three stages’ (CG 1)
(cf. 4.4ff; 8.6-9, 15; 12.22-26; 13.4-8).4 First, the ‘study’ of
‘“grammar”‘ was ‘based on logic’, but ‘lacked a scientific
approach and was detached from language itself’. Preoccupied with ‘rules for
distinguishing between correct and incorrect forms’, grammar ‘was a
normative discipline, far removed from actual observation’. Second,
‘classical philology’ was devoted to ‘comparing texts of different
periods, determining the language peculiar to each author, or deciphering and
explaining inscriptions’ (CG 3, 1). This approach ‘followed written language
too slavishly’, ‘neglected the living language’, and focused on ‘Greek
and Latin antiquity’ (CG 1f). Third, ‘comparative philology’ explored the
relatedness of many languages, but ‘did not succeed in setting up the true
science of linguistics’, because it ‘failed to seek out the nature of its
object of study’ (CG 2f). Also, ‘the exaggerated and almost exclusive
role’ ‘given to Sanskrit’ was a ‘glaring mistake’ (CG 215) (cf. 4,4,
40; 8.4f, 74, 86; 12.20f).
2.6
Although (or because) he owed so much to it,5 Saussure was especially
critical of ‘philology’, the historical study of language. Because ‘modern
linguistics’ ‘has been completely absorbed in diachrony’ (i.e., issues of
‘evolution’), its ‘conception of language is therefore hybrid and
hesitating’; this ‘linguistics’ ‘has no clear-cut objective’ and fails
‘to make a sharp distinction between states and successions’ (CG 81f). In
contrast, ‘the “grammarians” inspired by traditional methods’ at least
tried to ‘describe language-states’. Though ‘traditional grammar neglects
whole parts of language’, does not ‘record facts’, and ‘lacks overall
perspective’, ‘the method was correct’: however ‘unscientific’,
‘classical grammar’ is judged ‘less open to criticism’ than
‘philology’ (cf. 13.4). Now, ‘linguistics, having accorded too large a
place to history, will turn back to the static viewpoint of traditional grammar,
but in a new spirit and with other procedures, and the historical method will
have contributed to this rejuvenation’ (CG 82f) (cf. 2.15; 6.49; 7.4; 8.38;
12.41, 88; 13.7). In effect, ‘general linguistics’ would become a ‘true
science’ by supplying the theoretical and methodological framework absent from
earlier approaches, while drawing freely on their findings and examples.
2.7
Saussure envisioned ‘linguistics’ taking its place among ‘other sciences
that sometimes borrow from its data, sometimes supply it with data’ -- e.g.,
‘political history’, ‘psychology’, ‘anthropology’, ‘sociology’,
‘ethnography’, ‘prehistory’, and ‘palaeontology’ (CG 102f, 147, 9,
6, 224) (cf. 13.9-20). Yet ‘linguistics must be carefully distinguished’
from such sciences, which can contribute only to ‘external linguistics’,
concerning ‘everything that is outside’ the ‘system’ of ‘language’
(CG 6, 9, 20f) (cf. 2.9; 13.9). In return, ‘we can draw no accurate
conclusions outside the domain of linguistics proper’ (CG 228).
2.8
On a grand scale, Saussure foresaw ‘a science that studies the life of
signs within society’, and ‘called it semiology’
(CG 16). ‘Linguistics is only a part of that general science’ and is charged
with ‘finding out what makes language a special system within the mass of
semiological data’. ‘If we are to discover the true nature of language, we
must learn what it has in common with all other semiological systems’ (CG 17)
(cf. 6.50-56; 12.9f). For Saussure, ‘language, the most complex and universal
of all systems of expression, is also the most characteristic; in this sense
linguistics can become the master-pattern for all branches of semiology’ (CG
68) (cf. 6.53; 13.18, 21f). Though he didn't elaborate on this future science in
detail, he predicted it would establish ‘laws’, ‘rules’, and ‘constant
principles’ (CG 16f, 88).
2.9
To explain why ‘semiology’ had ‘not been recognized as an independent
science with its own object’, Saussure contends that ‘heretofore language
has almost always been studied in connection with something else, from other
viewpoints’ (CG 16) (cf. 6.5ff; 9.2). He now announces, in a much-quoted
aphorism at the close of the book, that ‘the true and unique object of
linguistics is language studied in and for itself’ (CG 232) (cf. 6.64;
13.35). Against Dwight Whitney, he demurs that ‘language is not similar in all
respects to other social institutions’ (CG 10). Also, ‘other sciences work
with objects that are given in advance’, whereas in ‘linguistics’, ‘it
would seem that it is the viewpoint that creates the object’ (CG 8) (cf.
13.58).
2.10
In Saussure's estimate, ‘all idioms embody certain fixed principles that the
linguist meets again and again in passing from one to another’ (CG 99). Hence,
‘the linguist is obliged to acquaint himself with the greatest possible number
of languages in order to determine what is universal in them by observing and
comparing them’ (CG 23) (cf. 6.57; 13.18, 49, 124). ‘But it is
very difficult to command scientifically such different languages’, and
‘each idiom is a closed system’, so ‘each language in practice forms a
unit of study’ (CG 99). In this connection, Saussure concedes that ‘the
ideal, theoretical form of a science is not always the one imposed upon it by
the exigencies of practice; in linguistics, these exigencies are more imperious
than anywhere else; they account to some extent for the confusion that now
predominates in linguistic research’ (cf. 2.4).
2.11
‘Language’ constitutes a ‘linguistic fact’ that, Saussure hopes,
can ‘be pictured in its totality’ (CG 112). To do so, ‘we must call in a
new type of facts to illuminate the special nature of language’; and must
‘throw new light on the facts’, whether ‘static’ or ‘evolutionary’
(CG 16f, 189f) (cf. 2.6, 36). For instance, ‘concepts’ are ‘mental
facts’; ‘analogy’ is ‘a universal fact’; ‘a phonological system’
is a ‘set of facts’; and so on (CG 11, 176, 171, 34).
2.12
But dealing with ‘facts’ may be quite problematic, since ‘nothing tells us
in advance that one way of considering the fact in question takes precedence
over any other’ (CG 8). We may have to ‘sift the facts’ ‘many times to
bring to light’ the essentials (cf. CG 202). ‘The most serious mistake in
method’ is to suppose that ‘the facts embraced’ by a ‘law’ ‘exist
once and for all instead of being born and dying within a span of time’ (CG
146). Even where the ‘facts’ may suggest otherwise, ‘we must defend our
principle: there are no unchangeable characteristics’ (CG 230f). ‘Permanence
results from sheer luck’.
2.13
The range or extension of a fact is also a problem. On the one hand, ‘it is a
serious mistake to consider dissimilar facts as a single phenomenon’ (CG 146).
Against the neo-grammarians and philologists, who tried to show how ‘a set of
facts apparently obeys the same law’, Saussure argues that such
‘facts’ are ‘isolated’ and ‘accidental’; and that ‘regardless of
the number of instances where a phonetic law holds, all the facts embraced by it
are but multiple manifestations of a single particular fact’ (CG 93f).6
He suggests that ‘the term “law”‘ might ‘be used in language as in the
physical and natural sciences’, but only from a timeless ‘panchronic
viewpoint’ he opposes (CG 95) (cf. 13.11). All the same, he refers to ‘laws
that govern the combining of phonemes’, the ‘evolution’ of a ‘word’,
the ‘accentuation’ of ‘syllables’, or the status of ‘initial
consonants’ and ‘vowels’ (CG 51, 86, 30f).
2.14
Evidently, Saussure couldn't quite decide whether ‘the facts of language’
are ‘governed by laws’ (CG 91) (cf. 12.22). ‘The laws of language’
differ from ‘every social law’, which is ‘imperative’ (‘comes in by
force’) and ‘general’ (‘covers all cases’). ‘Like everything that
pertains to the linguistic system’, a ‘law’ ‘is an arrangement of terms,
a fortuitous, involuntary result of evolution’ (CG 86). ‘And the arrangement
that the law defines is precarious precisely because it is not imperative’ (CG
92). Moreover, ‘laws’ such as those governing ‘alternation’ may be
‘only a fortuitous result of underlying’ ‘facts’ (CG 159). In sum,
‘speaking of linguistic law in general is like trying to pin down a
[phantom]’ (CG 91).
2.15
Saussure's deliberations already raise the persistent problem in modern
linguistics of how to decide what is ‘real’ (1.12f; 13.24f, 57). At
times he seems confident: ‘when we examine “abstractions” more closely, we
see what part of reality they actually stand for, and a simple corrective
measure suffices to give an exact and justifiable meaning to the expedients of
the grammarian’ (CG 184) (cf. 13.57). He chides other schools for
‘notions’ with ‘no basis in reality’, though he himself is forced on
occasion (e.g., when considering ‘geographical diversity’, which disrupts
his conception of the closed system) into a ‘schematic simplification’ that
‘seems to go against reality’ (CG 4, 196).
2.16
At any rate, ‘the concrete entities of language are not directly
accessible’ (CG 110). So he would justify the thesis that ‘language is
concrete’ with the mentalistic premise that ‘associations which bear the
stamp of collective approval’ ‘are realities that have their seat in the
brain’ (CG 15) (cf. 2.31, 66, 83; 13.10). ‘The concrete object of linguistic
science is the social product deposited in the brain of each individual’ (CG
23). When ‘sound and thought combine’, they ‘produce a form, not a substance’;
‘all the mistakes in our terminology, all our incorrect ways of naming things
that pertain to language, stem from the involuntary supposition that the
linguistic phenomenon must have substance’ (CG 113, 122) (cf. 6.28-31; 12.89,
1114).
2.17
Still, ‘to base the classifications’ ‘for arranging all the facts’ ‘on
anything except concrete entities’ ‘is to forget that there are no
linguistic facts apart from the phonic substance cut into significant
elements’ (CG 110) (cf. 3.18; 13.26). Hence, in order to show that ‘abstract
entities are always based, in the last analysis, on concrete entities’,
Saussure invokes the ‘series of material elements’ (CG 138). ‘Thought’
follows ‘the material state of signs’ (CG 228) (3.10; cf. 13.84).
‘Syntax’ resides inside ‘material units distributed in space’; and
‘words’ are situated in ‘the substance that constitutes sentences’ (CG
139, 172) (cf. 13.33). Despite such jarring passages, Saussure emphasizes that
‘language exists independently’ of ‘the material substance of words’;
that ‘the word-unit’ is ‘constituted’ ‘by characteristics other than
its material quality’; and that ‘a material sign is not necessary for the
expression of an idea’ (CG 18, 94, 86). ‘A material unit exists only through
its meaning and function’, just as these two require ‘the support of some
material form’ (CG 139).
2.18
Considerations like these made Saussure uneasy about ‘calling the word
a concrete linguistic object’ (CG 8) (cf. 3.31; 4.54, 60; 5.53; 6.23; 7.70, 719
8.54; 12.69, 71, 77; 13.29). ‘There has been much disagreement about the
nature of the word’; ‘the usual meaning of the term is incompatible with the
notion of a concrete unit’ (CG 105).7 Nevertheless, ‘being unable
to seize the concrete entities or units of language directly, we shall work with
words’ (CG 113). Insofar as ‘the word’ ‘at least bears a rough
resemblance’ to ‘the linguistic unit’ and ‘has the advantage of being
concrete’, ‘we shall use words as specimens equivalent to real terms in a
synchronic system, and the principles that we evolve with respect to words will
be valid for entities in general’ (CG 113f). After all, ‘the word is a unit
that strikes the mind, something central in the mechanism of language’; so
‘everything said about words applies to any term of language’ (CG 111, 116)
(cf. 13.54).
2.19
Saussure is determined to view ‘language’ as ‘a well-defined object in the
heterogeneous mass of speech facts’ (CG 14). ‘We must put both feet on the
ground of language and use language as the norm of all other manifestations of
speech’ (CG 9, i.r.) (cf. 2.8). But to do so, he drastically limits the object
of study: ‘the science of language is possible only if’ ‘the other
elements of speech’ ‘are excluded’ (CG 15) (cf. 2.7, 9). He draws a firm
dichotomy between ‘language [langue]’ and ‘human
speech [langage]’, making the
former ‘only a definite part’ of the latter and oddly arguing that
‘language’ ‘can be classified among human phenomena, whereas speech
cannot’ (CG 9, 15). ‘We cannot put’ ‘speech’ ‘in any category of
human facts, for we cannot discover its unity’; only ‘language gives unity
to speech’ (CG 9, 11) (13.39). ‘Speech cannot be studied, for it is not
homogeneous’ (CG 19). Nonetheless, we are counselled to ‘set up the science
of language within the overall study of speech’, and told that ‘the subject
matter of linguistics comprises all manifestations of human speech’ (CG 17 6).
2.20
To further limit ‘the rational form linguistic study should take’, Saussure
makes a dichotomy between ‘language’
[langue] and ‘speaking’ [parole] (CG
98, 13, i.a.) (cf. 13.36). ‘The two objects are closely connected’ and
‘interdependent’, yet are ‘two absolutely distinct things’ (CG 18f).
‘Speaking is necessary for the establishment of language, and historically,
its actuality always comes first’ (CG 18). But ‘language’ is
‘passive’, ‘receptive’, ‘collective’, and ‘homogeneous’, while
‘speaking’ is ‘active’, ‘executive’, ‘individual’, and
‘heterogeneous’ (CG 13, 15). Unlike ‘language’, ‘speaking is not a
collective instrument; its manifestations are individual and momentary’, and
‘depend on the will of speakers’ (CG 19). Saussure vowed to ‘deal only
with linguistics of language’; even if he ‘uses material belonging to
speaking to illustrate a point’, he ‘tries never to erase the boundaries
that separate the two domains’ (CG 19f). Though according to his editors, he
‘promised to the students’ a ‘linguistics of speaking’ he did not live
to present, the Cours indicates that such a ‘science’ wouldn't belong
to ‘linguistics proper’; ‘the activity of the speaker should be studied in
a number of disciplines which have no place in linguistics except through their
relation to language’ (CG xix, 20, 18) (cf. 2.7; 9.6).
2.21
In yet another trend-setting dichotomy, Saussure claimed that ‘language
and writing are two distinct systems of signs; the second exists for the
sole purpose of representing the first’ (CG 23). ‘The linguistic object is
not both the written and the spoken forms of words; the spoken forms alone
constitute the object’ (CG 23f) (cf. 4.37-44; 6.50; 8.72ff; 9.42f; 12.83;
13.33). Like Bloomfield, he seems indignant about ‘the tyranny’ whereby
‘writing’ ‘usurps the main role’ (CG 31, 24). ‘Grammarians’ are
chided for ‘drawing attention to the written form’, ‘sanctioning the
abuse’ with ‘free use’ of ‘pronunciation’, and ‘reversing the real,
legitimate relationship between writing and language’ (CG 30) (cf. 9.42f). For
Saussure, ‘writing obscures language; it is not a guise for language but a
disguise [or travesty]’. At least, writing seems to confuse him: he
calls it ‘stable’, then ‘unstable’; he rejects ‘the notion that an
idiom changes more rapidly when writing does not exist’ yet grants that
‘spelling always lags behind pronunciation’ (CG 27, 29, 24, 28).
2.22
‘Spelling’ annoys him particularly, being replete with
‘inconsistencies’, ‘aberrations’, ‘irrational’ or ‘illegitimate’
forms, and ‘absurdities’ that ‘cannot be excused’ (CG 28f) (cf. 4.38;
8.73ff). ‘By imposing itself upon the masses, spelling influences and modifies
language’ (CG 31). ‘Visual images lead to wrong pronunciations’,
‘pathological’ ‘mistakes’, ‘monstrosities’, and ‘deformations’
-- fit for ‘teratological’ inquiry (i.e. ‘“the study of monsters”’)
(CG 31f, 22). This irritation may have been fuelled by his native French -- in
contrast, say, to the ‘ingenious’ and ‘remarkable analysis’ displayed by
‘the Greek alphabet’, ‘realizing almost completely’ ‘a one-to-one
ratio between sounds and graphs’ (CG 53, 39). Also, he saw things with the
eyes of a phonetician and a historian: ‘the pronunciation of a word is
determined, not by its spelling, but by its history’, whereas ‘spelling’
does not follow ‘etymology’ (CG 31, 28).8 Nonetheless, he makes
no strong case for ‘spelling reform’ and ‘hopes only that the most
flagrant absurdities’ ‘will be eliminated’ (CG 34; cf. 2.69; 8.74).
2.23
Ultimately, he relents about writing: since ‘the linguist’ ‘is often
unable to observe speech directly, he must consider written texts’ and
‘pass’ through ‘the written form’ ‘to reach language’ (CG 6, 34)
(cf. 4.43f; 12.82). ‘The prop provided by writing, though deceptive, is still
preferable’ (CG 32). So, ‘far from discarding the distinctions sanctioned by
spelling’, Saussure ‘carefully preserves them’, e.g., because ‘the
opposition between implosives and explosives is crystal clear in writing’ (CG
53, 62) (cf. 2.72).
2.24
A kindred reservation is raised against ‘literary
language’, being here ‘any kind of cultivated language, official or
otherwise, that serves the whole community’ (CG 195) (cf. 4.41; 6.4; 124).
Though this reservation is maintained more consistently than that against
writing, the motives offered for it -- aside from the hardly contestable
provision that ‘the linguist must consider not only correct speech and flowery
language, but all other forms of expression’ (CG 6) -- are rather obscure and
contradictory. For example: ‘the privileged dialect, once it has been promoted
to the rank of official or standard, seldom remains the same’; yet ‘literary
language, once it has been formed, generally remains fairly stable’, and
‘its dependency on writing gives it a special guarantee of preservation’ (CG
195, 140). Or: ‘literary language’ ‘breaks away from’ ‘spoken
language’ and ‘adds to the undeserved importance of writing’, yet does not
‘necessarily imply the use of writing’ (CG 21, 25, 196). Or again: ‘when a
natural idiom is influenced by literary language’, ‘linguistic unity may be
destroyed’; yet ‘given free reign, a language has only dialects’ and
‘habitually splinters’ (CG 195). Whatever his motives, Saussure did set a
countertrend to traditional grammar by marginalizing literary examples (cf. 3.4;
4.41; 6.4).9
2.25
Saussure proposed to ‘localize’ his restricted notion of ‘language’
‘in the limited segment of the speaking-circuit where an auditory image
becomes associated with a concept’ (CG 14). ‘Language’ is ‘organized thought
coupled with sound’; and ‘each linguistic term is a member, an
“articulus” in which an idea is fixed in a sound and a sound becomes the
sign of an idea’ (CG 111, 113) (cf. 3.11, 32, 35; 6.30f; 12.17, 22, 47, 61).
This viewpoint led to the famous thesis that the ‘sign’ ‘results from associating’ a ‘signified’ with a ‘signifier’
(CG 67) (cf. 8.20; 11.85; 12.11, 47).10 ‘The linguistic entity
exists only through’ this ‘associating’; ‘whenever only one element is
retained, the entity vanishes’ (CG 101f).
2.26
‘Language’ is thus a ‘self-contained whole and a principle of
classification’ by virtue of being ‘a system of distinct signs corresponding
to’ or ‘expressing’ ‘distinct ideas’ (CG 9f, 16) (cf. 3.40; 12.58).
‘As in any semiological system, whatever distinguishes one sign from the
others constitutes it’ (CG 121). Therefore, ‘language is characterized as a
system based entirely on the opposition
of its concrete units’ or ‘on the mental opposition of auditory
impressions’ (CG 107, 33). ‘The general fact’ is ‘the functioning of
linguistic oppositions’ (CG 122). Saussure's most extreme formulation is also
the most frequently quoted: ‘in language there are only differences
without positive terms’ (CG 120). ‘Language’ is ‘organized thought
coupled with sound’; and ‘each linguistic term is a member, an
“articulus” in which an idea is fixed in a sound and a sound becomes the
sign of an idea’ (CG 111, 113) His crucial reservation, however, is seldom
quoted and reinvokes the dual nature of the sign: ‘the statement that
everything in language is negative is true only if the signified and the
signifier are considered separately’ -- whereby, we just saw, ‘the entity
vanishes’. ‘The sign in its totality’ of two entities ‘is positive in
its own class’. ‘Their combination is a positive fact; it is even the sole
type of facts that language has, for maintaining the parallelism between two
classes of differences is the distinctive function of the linguistic
institution’ (CG 120f) (cf. 4.26).
2.27
Each of the ‘two elements’, ‘the idea and the sound’, ‘functions’ in
ways which ‘prove that language is only a system of pure values’ (CG 111).
To some extent, the two sides control each other. ‘The source material of
language’ is ‘pictured’ as ‘two parallel chains, one of concepts and the
other of sound-images’ (CG 104) (cf. 6.41; 9.3; 12.43, 69). ‘In an accurate
delimitation, the division’ of the two ‘chains’ ‘will correspond’.
Moreover, in ‘countless instances’, ‘the alteration of the signifier
occasions a conceptual change’, and ‘it is obvious that the sum of ideas
distinguished corresponds in principle to the sum of the distinctive signs’
(CG 121) (but cf. 2.29; 5.64, 67, 75ff; 7.82; 11.36; 12.93; 13.59). ‘Any
nascent difference will tend invariably to become significant’; reciprocally,
‘any conceptual difference perceived by the mind seeks to find expression
through a distinct signifier, and two ideas that are no longer distinct in the
mind tend to merge into the same signifier’. ‘Thought’ may be ‘forced’
‘into the special way that the material state of signs opens to it’ (CG
228).
2.28
But the two sides do not control each other to the extent that ‘the
bond between the signifier and the signified is arbitrary’
(CG 67) (cf. 3.3; 4.27; 9.13, 32; 11.86).11 If the ‘sign’
‘results from’ that bond, Saussure ‘can simply say: the linguistic sign
is arbitrary’, i.e., ‘it is unmotivated’,
as shown by words for the same thing (“tree”) in different languages (CG
66f, 69) (cf. 4.27; 917). This ‘principle’ ‘dominates all the
linguistics of language’ (CG 68). Among its ‘numberless’
‘consequences’, I mention three I think essential to Saussurian argument.
First, ‘the arbitrary nature of the sign explains’ ‘why the social fact
alone can create a system’ (CG 113). Second, `arbitrary and differential are
two correlative qualities’: ‘a segment of language can never in the final
analysis be based on anything but its noncoincidence with the rest’ (CG 118).
Third, ‘in linguistics to explain a word is to relate it to other words,
for there are no necessary relations between sound and meaning’ (CG 189). If
‘the choice of a given slice of sound to name a given idea’ were not
‘completely arbitrary’, ‘the notion of value would be compromised, for it
would include an externally imposed element’ (CG 113).
2.29
Although ‘no one disputes the principle of the arbitrary nature of the
sign’, and ‘wholly arbitrary’ ‘signs’ ‘realize better than others
the ideal of the semiological process’ (CG 68), Saussure betrays some
uneasiness. At one point he calls ‘arbitrariness’ an ‘irrational
principle’ ‘which would lead to the worst sort of complication if applied
without restriction’ (CG 133). He is accordingly ‘convinced’:
‘everything that relates to language as a system’ serves ‘the limiting of
arbitrariness’ (cf. 2.56). The linguist must ‘study’ ‘language’ ‘as
it limits arbitrariness’. Various ‘degrees’ may range ‘between the two
extremes -- a minimum of organization and a minimum of arbitrariness’ (CG 131,
133). Such ‘proportions’ might ‘help in classifying’ ‘diverse
languages’; those ‘in which there is least motivation are more lexicological, and those in which it is greatest are more grammatical’
(CG 133; cf. CG 161) (cf. 13.59). Or, ‘within a given language’, we might
consider how ‘all evolutionary movement may be characterized by continual
passage from motivation to arbitrariness’ and vice versa (CG 134). Or again,
we might examine how ‘motivation varies, being always proportional to the ease
of syntagmatic analysis and the obviousness of the meaning of the subunits
present’ (CG 132). ‘At any rate, even in the most favourable cases
motivation is never absolute; not only are the elements of a motivated sign
themselves unmotivated’, ‘but the value of the whole term is never equal to
the sum of the value of its parts’ (cf. 2.27; 5.29, 67; 12.93; 13.59).
2.30
Alongside ‘motivated’, ‘natural’
is treated as a converse of ‘arbitrary’ (CG 69), and here too, Saussure is
not fully consistent. He vows that ‘natural data have no place in
linguistics’ (CG 80). Similarly, ‘the traditional divisions of grammar’
‘do not correspond to natural distinctions’ (CG 136) (cf. 3.23; 4.71). And
‘the false notion’ of ‘language’ as ‘a natural kingdom’ leads to
‘absurdities’ (CG 4).12 Even if ‘semiology’ ‘welcomes’
the ‘natural sign, such as pantomime’, ‘its main concern will still be the
whole group of systems grounded on the arbitrariness of the sign’ (CG 132).13
Despite this, Saussure invokes ‘natural dialectal features’, ‘the natural
fact’ of ‘geographical diversity’, the ‘two natural coordinates’ of
‘associative’ and ‘syntagmatic’, and the ‘natural organic growth of an
idiom’ (CG 201, 196, 203, 137, 21). In his view, by ‘giving language first
place among the facts of speech, we introduce a natural order’ (CG 9). With a
comparable inconsistency, he condemns the designation of language as an
‘organism’ or an ‘organic’ entity, but frequently applies these terms
himself (CG 5, 231, 21f, 69, 153, 193).
2.31
The division of the sign into signified and signifier is not the same as the
division of the ‘speaking-circuit’ into the ‘psychological parts (word-images and concepts)’ and the ‘physiological
(phonation and audition)’ (CG 12). ‘Speaking’ involves the
‘physiological’, whereas ‘language’ ‘is exclusively psychological’
(CG 18; cf. CG 8, 12ff; 13.14). So ‘both terms involved in the linguistic
sign’, the signified and the signifier, ‘are psychological and are united in
the brain by an associative bond’ (CG 65f) (2.16). Even the ‘material and
mechanical manifestations’ are ‘psychological’; ‘the psychophysical
mechanism’ is significant only for ‘exteriorizing’ the ‘combinations’
that ‘express’ ‘thought’ (CG 6, 14). The ‘sound-image’ ‘is not the
material sound, but the psychological imprint of the sound, the impression that
it makes on our senses’ (CG 66). Still, we have seen Saussure invoking the
‘material’ aspect to suggest the ‘concreteness’ of language (cf. 2.17,
27).14
2.32
In exuberant moments, Saussure pictures language as a fortunate development for
the human mind, agreeing this time with traditional ‘philosophers and
linguists’: ‘without language, thought is a vague, uncharted nebula’ (CG
112) (cf. 3.3; 6.2, 31; 12.17). ‘There are no pre-existing ideas, and nothing
is distinct before the appearance of language’. ‘Psychologically, our
thought -- apart from its expression in words -- is only a shapeless and
indistinct mass’, a ‘floating realm’ (CG 111f). ‘Thought, chaotic by
nature, has to become ordered in the process of its decomposition; language
takes shape between two shapeless masses’, namely, ‘the indefinite plane of
jumbled ideas and the equally vague plane of sounds’. ‘Without the help of
signs we would be unable to make a clear-cut consistent distinction between two
ideas’. At such moments, Saussure downplays the influence of
‘arbitrariness’, against which ‘the mind contrives to introduce a
principle of order and regularity into certain parts of the mass of signs’ (CG
133). ‘The mechanism of language is but a partial correction of a system that
is by nature chaotic’. He even says, contravening his own conception of
system, that ‘language’ ‘is a confused mass, and only attentiveness and [de]familiarization
will reveal its particular elements’ (CG 104) (cf. 13.42).
2.33
Signalling a mentalist orientation linguistics would later reject (4.8, 13.4f,
10f), Saussure invokes ‘the sum of word-images stored in the minds of all
individuals’, where ‘forms’ are ‘associated’ ‘through their
meanings’, as the basis for ‘the social bond that constitutes language’
(CG 13, 165). In this sense, ‘linguistics has only the perspective of
speakers’ (CG 212).15 But he concedes that ‘we never know exactly
whether or not the awareness of speakers goes as far as the analyses of
grammarians’ (CG 138). ‘Doubtless speakers are unaware of the practical
difficulties of delimiting units’; ‘in the matter of language, people have
always been satisfied with ill-defined units’ (CG 106, 111) (cf. 13.7, 59).
2.34
All the same, Saussure set yet another trend for linguistics by typically
implying that the categories and notions he proposes are shared by the minds of
‘speakers’ (e.g. CG 138, 160, 185, 192) (cf. 13.49). He depicts the
‘objective analysis based on history’ and done by ‘the grammarian’ as
‘but a modified form’ of the ‘subjective analysis’ ‘speakers
constantly make’ (CG 183) (cf. 13.58). ‘Both analyses are justifiable, and
each retains its value’, even if he can find ‘no common yardstick for both
the analysis of speakers and the analysis of the historian’. ‘In the last
resort, however, only the speakers’ analysis matters, for it is based directly
upon the facts of language’. Fair enough, but he stressed that the ‘facts’
can be elusive, even for experts (2.12ff).
2.35
A compromise would be to assign the knowledge of speakers to a level of which
they are not ‘conscious’.16 In accounting for ‘analogy’, for
example, ‘no complicated operation such as the grammarian's conscious analysis
is presumed on the part of the speaker’; ‘the sum of the conscious and
methodological classifications made by the grammarian’ ‘must coincide with
the associations, conscious or not, that are set up in speaking’ (CG 167,
137f). Or, if ‘language is not complete in any speaker’ and ‘exists
perfectly only within a collectivity’, we might assign the knowledge to ‘the
collective mind of speakers’, wherein ‘logical and psychological
relations’ ‘form a system’ (CG 14, 99f). This designation would be
appropriate for ‘synchronic linguistics’, whereas ‘diachronic
linguistics’ would ‘study relations that bind together successive terms not
perceived by the collective mind but substituted for each other without forming
a system’ (CG 99f, i.r.).
2.36
The quest for the locus of language thus leads to Saussure's ‘radical
distinction between diachrony and synchrony’
(CG 184). Though ‘very few linguists suspect’ it, ‘the intervention of the
factor of time creates difficulties peculiar to linguistics and opens to their
science two completely divergent paths’ (CG 79). Saussure now calls for ‘two
sciences of language’, one ‘static’ or ‘synchronic’, and the other
‘evolutionary’ or ‘diachronic’ (CG 81). Because ‘static linguistics’
was not yet established and seemed ‘generally much more difficult’ (CG 101),
Saussure favoured it in his own theorizing. For him, ‘language is a system
whose parts can and must be considered in their synchronic solidarity’ (CG
87). ‘Language is a system of pure values determined by nothing except the
momentary arrangement of terms’; and ‘a system of interdependent terms in
which the value of each term results solely from the simultaneous presence of
others’ (CG 80, 114). Only ‘synchronic facts’ ‘affect the system as a
whole’ and are therefore ‘always significant’ (CG 85, 87; cf. CG 95).
‘In analysis, then, we can set up a method and formulate definitions only
after adopting a synchronic viewpoint’ (CG 185). Besides, ‘the synchronic
viewpoint’ ‘is the true and only reality to the community of speakers’ (CG
90, 212).
2.37
In contrast, ‘the diachronic perspective deals with phenomena that are
unrelated to systems’, and with ‘partial facts’ (CG 85, 87). ‘The
diachronic phenomenon’ is ‘the evolution of the system’ through ‘a shift
in the relationship between the signifier and the signified’ (CG 181) (cf.
2.48). ‘In a diachronic succession, the elements are not delimited for once
and for all’; they ‘are distributed differently from one moment to the
next’ (CG 179). Hence, ‘the units delimited in diachrony would not
necessarily correspond to those delimited in synchrony’ (CG 181). Moreover,
‘the synchronic fact’ ‘calls forth two simultaneous terms’, whereas
‘the diachronic fact’ ‘involves’ ‘only one term’: ‘for the new one
to appear’, ‘the old one’ ‘must first give way to it’ (CG 85). These
theses complicate ‘the problem of the diachronic unit’ and ‘the essence’
of ‘evolution’ (CG 181). ‘An element taken from one period’ qualifies as
‘the same’ as ‘an element taken from another period’ only if ‘regular
sound changes’ intervene and if the ‘speaker passes from one form to the
other without there being a break in their common bond’ (CG 181f) (cf. 2.73).
2.38
For Saussure, ‘the opposition between the two viewpoints, the synchronic and
the diachronic, is absolute and allows no compromise’ (CG 83). ‘The more
rigidly they are kept apart, the better it will be’, and their respective
‘“phenomena”‘ ‘have nothing in common’ (CG 22, 91). ‘The
synchronic law is general but not imperative’ and merely ‘reports a state of
affairs’ (CG 92). In ‘diachrony, on the contrary’, we find
‘imperativeness’ that ‘is not sufficient to warrant applying the concept
of law to evolutionary facts’, which, ‘in spite of certain appearances’,
are ‘always accidental and particular’ (CG 93; cf. 2.47, 55; 4.75). Hence, a
synchronic approach fits better the standard notion of how science works.
2.39
Elsewhere, however, he concedes that ‘the system and its history’ ‘are so
closely related that we can scarcely keep them apart’ (CG 8). ‘Synchronic
truth is so similar to diachronic truth that people confuse the two or think it
superfluous to separate them’ (CG 96). ‘In fact, linguistics has confused
them for decades without realizing that such a method is worthless’ (CG 97).
The ‘force of circumstances’ is blamed for ‘inducing’ us to
‘consider’ ‘each language’ ‘alternately from the historical and static
viewpoints’ (CG 99). Yet Saussure insists it is ‘absolutely impossible to
study simultaneously relations in time and relations within the system’ (CG
81). ‘We must put each fact in its own class and not confuse the two
methods’..
2.40
He accordingly finds it ‘obvious that the diachronic facts are not related to
the static facts they produced’ (CG 83). ‘A diachronic fact is an
independent event; the synchronic consequences that stem from it are wholly
unrelated to it’ (CG 84). Hence, ‘the linguist who wishes to understand a
state must discard all knowledge of everything that produced it’ (CG 81).
‘He can enter the mind of speakers only by completely suppressing the past;
the intervention of history can only falsify his judgment’ (CG 81; cf. CG
160). Admittedly, ‘the forces that have shaped the state illuminate its true
nature, and knowing them protects us against certain illusions’; ‘but this
only goes to prove clearly that diachronic linguistics is not an end in
itself’ (CG 90).
2.41
This line of argument implies we can assign events or causes to a separate
science or domain from their results or effects (cf. 2.74). Apparently, the key
factor is that ‘diachronic facts are not’ ‘directed toward changing the
system’; ‘only certain elements are altered without regard to the solidarity
that binds them to the whole’ (CG 84). Even when ‘a shift in a system is
brought about’ or a ‘change was enough to give rise to another system’,
the ‘events’ responsible are ‘outside the system’ ‘and form no system
among themselves’ (CG 95, 85). ‘In the science of language, all we need do
is to observe the transformations of sounds and to calculate their effects’;
‘determining the causes’ is not ‘essential’ (CG 18).
2.42
A further problem is how to gather data ‘outside the system’. If ‘the
linguist’ ‘takes the diachronic perspective, he no longer observes language,
but rather a series of events that modify it’ (CG 90). ‘The causes of
continuity are a priori within the scope of the observer, but the causes of
change in time are not’ (CG 77). Still, ‘evolutionary facts are more
concrete and striking’ than ‘static’ ones; the ‘observable relations tie
together successive terms that are easily grasped’ (CG 101). We are confronted
with ‘observable modifications’; ‘innovations’ ‘enter into our field
of observation’ when ‘the community of speakers has adopted them’ (CG 88,
98). This ‘community’ cannot however be the only point of reference, since
the ‘succession in time’ of ‘the facts of language’ ‘does not exist
insofar as the speaker is concerned’ (CG 81). ‘The linguist’ needs
‘external evidence’, such as ‘contemporary descriptions’ (which ‘lack
scientific precision’), ‘spelling’, ‘poetic texts’, ‘loanwords’,
‘puns’, and ‘stories’ (CG 35f, i.r.).
2.43
Similarly agile manoeuvring is performed to deal with ‘geographical’ ‘diversity’, which gets relegated to ‘external
linguistics’, presumably for not applying to closed or uniform systems: ‘it
is impossible, even in our hypothetical examples, to set up boundaries between
the dialects’ (CG 191, 204). 'Dialectal differences’ appear when an
‘innovation’ ‘affects only a part of the territory’ (CG 200). In another
about-face, Saussure says ‘divergences in time escape the observer, but
divergences in space immediately force themselves upon him’ (CG 191).
‘Geographical diversity was, then, the first observation made in linguistics
and determined the initial form of scientific research in language’. But to
preserve the ‘profound unity’ postulated in his synchronic approach and
‘hidden’ by ‘the diversity of idioms’, Saussure maintains that ‘time’
‘is actually the basic cause of linguistic differentiation’: ‘by itself, space
cannot influence language’ (CG 99, 198). If ‘change itself’ and ‘the
instability of language stem from time alone’, ‘geographical diversity
should be called temporal diversity’ (CG 198f, i.r.).17 Here,
effects get fully referred back to the events that caused them -- just the
reverse of the argument for keeping diachrony separated (2.40f).
2.44
Saussure implies that language changes all by itself: ‘language is not
controlled directly by the mind of speakers’, and the ‘sign’ and
‘language’ ‘always elude the individual or social will’ (only
‘speaking’ is ‘wilful’) (CG, 228 19, 17, 14). ‘Speakers do not wish’
or ‘try to change systems’, but ‘pass from one to the other, so to speak,
without having a hand in it’ (CG 84ff). But it's hard to see how language can
change at all if ‘the signifier’ ‘is fixed, not free, with respect to the
linguistic community’ (CG 71). ‘The masses have no voice in the matter, and
the signifier chosen by language could be replaced with no other’. ‘No
individual, even if he willed it, could modify in any way at all the choice’;
and ‘the community itself cannot control so much as a single word’. ‘We
can conceive of a change only through the intervention of specialists,
grammarians, logicians, etc.; but experience shows us that all such meddlings
have failed’ (CG 73) (cf. 427).
2.45
Notwithstanding, ordinary speakers do change language. ‘An evolutionary fact
is always preceded’ by ‘a multitude of similar facts in the sphere of
speaking’ (CG 98). ‘Nothing enters language without having been tested in
speaking, and every evolutionary phenomenon has its roots in the individual’
(CG 168) (cf. 3.57; 4.81, 46). ‘One speaker had to coin the new
word, then others had to imitate and repeat it until it forced itself into
standard usage’. So ‘in the history of any innovation there are always two
distinct moments: (1) when it sprang up in individual usage; and (2) when it
became a fact of language, outwardly identical but adopted by the community’
(CG 165). The ‘distinction made’ between ‘diachrony’ and ‘synchrony’
is ‘in no way invalidated’ by this process. But we would need, it seems to
me, a reliable way, short of interviewing the entire community, for telling just
when an innovation passes from one ‘moment’ to the other, and for (here
again) separating causes from effects (cf. 4.77f).
2.46
His idea that ‘evolution in time takes the form of successive and precise
innovations’ (CG 200) must have made Saussure uneasy about inexact
improvisations of speakers. When he deals with ‘folk etymology’, he does
just what he scolds ‘grammarians’ for: ‘thinking that spontaneous analyses
of language are “wrong”‘ (CG 183) (and cf. 2.49). ‘This phenomenon
called folk etymology’ ‘works somewhat haphazardly and results only in
absurdities’, ‘mistakes’, and ‘deformations’ (CG 173ff). During
‘crude attempts to explain refractory words’, the words get
‘misunderstood’, ‘corrupted’, and ‘mangled’. The grounds for
castigating folk etymology can only be that it is not sanctioned by historical
knowledge -- which, Saussure grants, ordinary speakers do not have (cf. CG 81,
90, 100, 160, 212; 2.35, 40, 64).
2.47
One of the rare occasions18 when his reverent editors reassure us
that Saussure is not ‘being illogical or paradoxical’ is when he ‘speaks
of both the immutability and the mutability of the sign’ -- and assigns both
phenomena the same cause, namely, ‘the arbitrary nature of the sign’ (CG
73ff). On the one hand, ‘language always appears as a heritage of the
preceding period’; ‘no society’ ‘has ever known language other than as a
product inherited from preceding generations’ (CG 71). ‘The arbitrary nature
of the sign’ ‘protects language from any attempt to modify it’; ‘the
sign’ ‘follows no law other than that of tradition’ (CG 73f). Also,
‘society’, ‘inert by nature, is a prime conservative force’.
‘Generations’ ‘fuse and interpenetrate’; ‘speakers are largely
unconscious of the laws of language’; and ‘even their awareness would seldom
lead to criticism, for people are generally satisfied with the language they
have received’ (CG 72). Such arguments are thought to show that ‘the
question of the origin of speech’ ‘is not even worth asking’; ‘the only
real object of linguistics is the normal, regular life of an existing idiom’
(CG 71f) (cf. 3.11, 18; 8.6, 17).
2.48
On the other hand, ‘time changes all things; there is no reason why language
should escape this universal law’ (CG 77). ‘The arbitrary nature of the
sign’ is now deployed to explain why ‘language is radically powerless
against the forces which from one moment to the next are shifting the
relationship between the signified and the signifier’ (CG 75) (cf. 2.37).
Those forces ‘loosen’ ‘the bond between the idea and the sign’. A
further paradox arises: ‘the sign is exposed to alteration because it
perpetuates itself’ (CG 74).
2.49
Perhaps because such shifts disrupt Saussure's search for order, he tends to
misprize language change as a matter of ‘deteriorations’,
‘vicissitudes’, ‘damage’, ‘disturbance’, ‘breaking’, and
‘effacement’, ‘in spite of’ which ‘language continues to function’
(CG 87, 152ff, 161). He envisions ‘a blind force against the organization of a
system of signs’, and a ‘great mass of forces that constantly threaten the
analysis adopted in a particular language-state’ (CG 89, 169) (cf. 3.13, 16).
He admonishes that ‘the total number of forms is uselessly increased’;
‘the linguistic mechanism is obscured and complicated’; and ‘phonetic
evolution first obscures analysis, then makes it completely impossible’ (CG
161, 155). Like those brought against folk etymology, such condemnations disrupt
the descriptive, non-evaluative methodology whereby Saussure wants to overcome
‘the illusion’ of ‘the first linguists’, for whom ‘everything that
deviated from the original state’ was ‘a distortion of an ideal form’ (CG
163) (cf. 4.80).
2.50
‘Fortunately, analogy
counterbalances the effects’ of ‘transformations’ (CG 161). ‘An
analogical form is a form made on the model of one or more other forms in
accordance with a definite rule’ (i.r.). It can ‘offset’ ‘change’,
‘restore regularity’, and ‘unify’, ‘preserve’, or ‘renew’
‘forms’ (CG 171f). Thus, ‘analogy always plays an important role’ in the
‘preservation’ or ‘redistribution of linguistic material’ (CG 173).
‘The most obvious and important effect of analogy’ is to ‘substitute more
regular forms composed of living elements for older irregular and obsolescent
forms’ (CG 171). To the extent that it ‘always uses old material for its
innovations’, ‘analogy’ ‘is remarkably conservative’ (CG 172). Since
it ‘constantly renews’ ‘forms’, ‘analogy’ is claimed to
‘intervene’ even ‘when forms remain unchanged’. ‘A form may be
preserved’ either by ‘complete isolation or complete integration in a system
that has kept the basic parts of the word intact and that always comes to the
rescue’ (CG 173). If change appears harmful, the system appears beneficial.
2.51
To be sure, ‘analogy’ ‘is capricious’ (CG 162) and alters as well as
preserves. It ‘collaborates efficiently with all the forces that constantly
modify the architecture of an idiom’ (CG 171). It ‘reflects the changes that
have affected the functioning of language and sanctions them through new
combinations’. ‘To analogy are due all normal nonphonetic19
modifications of the external side of words’ (CG 161). However, ‘imperfect
analyses sometimes lead to muddled analogical creations’ (CG 171).
2.52
By showing how ‘language never stops interpreting and decomposing its
units’, ‘analogy’ is a good illustration of ‘the principle of linguistic
creativity’, and a ‘manifestation
of the general activity that singles out units for subsequent use’ (CG 169,
165f). ‘Any creation must be preceded by an unconscious comparison of the
material deposited in the storehouse of language, where productive forms are
arranged according to their’ ‘relations’ (CG 165) (cf. 5.47; 7.76; 8.58).
Hence, ‘analogy’ presupposes ‘awareness and understanding of a relation
between forms’. This ‘awareness’ leads to ‘the chance product’: ‘the
form improvised’ by ‘the isolated speaker’ ‘to express his thought’
(CG 165f). ‘It is wrong to suppose that the production process is at work only
when the new formation actually occurs: the elements were already there’ to
guarantee the ‘potential existence in language’ of any ‘newly formed
word’ (cf. 6.23f). ‘The final step of realizing it in speaking is a small
matter in comparison to the build-up of forces that makes it possible’. This
time, effects get downplayed in favour of causes in order to give us ‘one more
lesson in separating language from speaking’ (CG 165).
2.53
‘Analogy is therefore proof positive that a formative element exists at a
given moment as a significant unit’ (CG 170). ‘Every possibility of
effective talk’ has the same source as ‘every possibility of analogical
formations’: the way ‘speech is continually engaged in decomposing its
units’ (CG 166).20 ‘If living units perceived by speakers at a
particular moment can by themselves give birth to analogical formations, every
definite redistribution of units also implies a possible expansion of their
use’ (CG 170). ‘All such innovations are perfectly regular; they are
explained in the same way as those that language has accepted’ (CG 168f).
‘Decomposable’ ‘words can be rated for capacity to engender other words’
(CG 166) (cf. 5.47).21
2.54
The question of when two forms are the same now receives a different treatment
than it did in the discussion of the ‘diachronic unit’ (2.37). Here,
‘analogical innovation and the elimination of the older forms are two distinct
things’ (CG 164). ‘Analogical change’ is an ‘illusion’; ‘nowhere do
we come upon a transformation’ of an element. The reasoning behind this claim
must be Saussure's belief that ‘analogy is psychological’, ‘grammatical,
and synchronic’, rather than ‘phonetic’ (CG 165f, 161). So ‘analogy by
itself could not be a force in evolution’, nor be ‘an evolutionary fact’,
even though ‘the constant substitution of new forms for old ones is one of the
most striking features in the transformation of language’ (CG 169, 171).
‘Enough’ ‘creations of speakers’ endure ‘to change completely the
appearance of its vocabulary and grammar’ (CG 169) (2.49).
2.55
This tricky reasoning reflects the intent to place ‘grammar’ mainly on the ‘synchronic’ side; ‘since no system
straddles several periods, there is no such thing as historical grammar’ (CG
134) (cf. 2.74).22 Thus, ‘all grammatical laws’ ‘are
synchronic’, even though ‘grammatical classes evolve’ (CG 159, 141). It
would be ‘radically impossible’ that ‘a phonetic phenomenon would mingle
with the synchronic fact’ in ‘grammar’ (CG 152) (cf. 2.51, 54). In return,
‘morphology, syntax, and lexicology interpenetrate because every synchronic
fact is identical’ (CG 136). Correspondingly, ‘morphology has no real,
autonomous object’; ‘it cannot form a discipline distinct from syntax’ (CG
135) (cf 3.26, 34f; 4.61f, 65; 5.51, 53f; 6.45, 49; 7.75f; 8.57; 9.31, 34, 75, 95,
915; 11.35, 40; 12.71, 75, 77; 13.28). Also, ‘the lexical and the
syntactic blend’; ‘there is basically no distinction between’ ‘a
phrase’ and a ‘word that is not a simple, irreducible unit’ -- ‘the
arrangement’ of ‘groups of words in phrases’ ‘follows the same
fundamental principles’ as does that of ‘subunits of the word’ (CG 135f)
(cf. 3.26, 34f; 4.61; 5.53f; 8.57; 9.75; 11.40; 12.75).
2.56
To capture ‘synchronic facts’, we should recognize that ‘in language
everything boils down’ not only ‘to differences,
but also to groupings’ (CG 136,
128) (cf. 8.51, 78-82; 9.75-81). To study groupings, yet another major dichotomy
is proposed: we should ‘gather together all that makes up a language state and
fit this into a theory of syntagms
and a theory of associations’ (CG
136). ‘Each fact should’ ‘be fitted into its syntagmatic and associative
class’ (CG 137). ‘Only the distinction’ ‘between syntagmatic and
associative relations can provide a classification that is not imposed from the
outside’ (CG 136). ‘The groupings in both classes are for the most part
fixed by language; this set of common relations constitutes language and governs
its functioning’ (CG 127). Moreover, ‘syntagmatic’ and ‘associative’
‘solidarities’ ‘are what limits arbitrariness’ and supplies
‘motivation’: ‘(1) analysis of a given term, hence a syntagmatic relation;
and (2) the summoning of one or more other terms, hence an associative
relation’ (CG 132f) (cf. 2.29). So ‘the whole subject matter of grammar
should be arranged along its two natural coordinates’; and ‘almost any point
of grammar will’ ‘prove the necessity of the dual approach’ (CG 137).
2.57
This fresh dichotomy is predictably propounded in mentalistic terms. ‘Our
memory holds in reserve all the more or less complex types of syntagms,
regardless of their class or length, and we bring in the associative groups to
fix our choice when the time for using them arrives’ (CG 130). ‘Every’
‘unit is chosen after a dual mental opposition’ (CG 131). For instance,
‘the isolated sound’ ‘stands in syntagmatic opposition to its environing
sounds and in associative opposition to all other sounds that may come to
mind’. Or, the ‘parts’ of ‘syntagms’, such as the ‘subunits’ of
‘words’, can be ‘analysed’ because they can be ‘placed in
opposition’ (CG 129). Similarly, ‘from the synchronic viewpoint’, each
word ‘stands in opposition to every word that might be associated with it’
(CG 95) (cf. 2.26).
2.58
These assertions fit ‘the only definition’ Saussure ‘can give’ for
‘the unit’ of ‘language’: ‘a slice of sound which to the exclusion of
everything that precedes and follows it in the spoken chain is the signifier of
a certain concept’ (CG 104, i.r.). In fact, ‘almost all units of language
depend on what surrounds them in the spoken chain, or on their successive
parts’ (CG 127). The principle is therefore that ‘in the syntagm a term has
value because it stands in opposition to everything that precedes or follows it,
or to both’ (CG 123) (12.51, 81), but gives no demonstrations for stretches of
real discourse. He is merely extending his concept of ‘opposition’ to cover
the problem of ‘the unit’ in the sequence, and thereby altering the concept.
In the abstract system (e.g., of phonemes or morphemes), elements must be
similar in many respects (e.g. class or category) in order to give full value to
their opposition. No such principle is required for successive elements in a
chain or syntagm; they could differ in all manner of diverse ways that
contribute less to their value than does their manner of combination (cf.
12.50f, 56, 70).
2.59
In a Saussurian perspective, the production of discourse could be a process of
‘thinking unconsciously of diverse groups of associations’ and ‘mentally
eliminating everything that does not help to bring out the desired
differentiation at the desired point’ (CG 130). He envisions language units
‘calling up’ or ‘recalling’ others (CG 130, 134, 164) (cf. 11.69, 87).
Such claims are unproblematic if ‘the sum of the conscious and methodical
classifications made by the grammarian who studies a language-state without
bringing in history must coincide with the associations, conscious or not, that
are set up in speaking’ (CG 137f) (cf. 2.33f; 13.49). But the situation is
more precarious if ‘it is by a purely arbitrary act that the grammarian
groups’ ‘words’ ‘in one way rather than in another’ (CG 127) (cf.
3.13; 4.82; 5.30; 6.15; 9.3; 13.27). For instance, ‘in the mind of speakers
the nominative case is by no means the first one in the declension, and the
order in which terms are called depends on circumstances’.
2.60
By definition, ‘syntagms’ are
‘combinations supported by linearity’ and ‘always composed of two or more
consecutive units’ (CG 123). ‘Syntagmatic groupings mutually condition each
other’ (CG 128). Indeed, ‘syntagmatic solidarities’ are ‘what is most
striking in the organization of language’ (CG 127, i.r.). Such images as
‘spatial co-ordinations’, ‘two units distributed in space’, or ‘a
horizontal ribbon that corresponds to the spoken chain’ (CG 128, 136f)
indicate that Saussure was influenced by the appearance of alphabetic written
language (cf. 2.5, 17, 21, 23; 13.33). When ‘auditory signifiers’ are
‘represented in writing’, ‘the spatial line of graphic marks is
substituted for succession in time’ (CG 70) (cf. 2.72).
2.61
One problem with ‘the syntagm’ is clearly recognized: ‘there is no
clear-cut boundary between the language
fact, which is the sign of collective usage, and the fact that belongs to speaking
and depends on individual freedom’ (CG 125) (but cf. 2.20, 33, 44f). ‘In a
great number of instances’, ‘both forces have combined in producing’ ‘a
combination of units’ and have done so ‘in indeterminate proportions’.
Therefore, ‘not every syntagmatic fact is classed as syntactical’ (and
pertaining to the language system), ‘but every syntactical fact belongs to the
syntagmatic class’ (CG 137). ‘The sentence
is the ideal type of syntagm, but it belongs to speaking, not to language’ (CG
124) (cf. 13.54). Only ‘pat phrases in which any change is prohibited by
usage’ ‘belong to language’ (cf. 4.60; 5.32, 54; 734; 9.93;
13.28).
2.62
Also, ‘to language rather than to speaking belong the syntagmatic types that
are built upon regular forms’ (CG
125). One example is ‘word-parts: prefixes, roots, radicals, suffixes, and
inflectional endings’ (CG 185). ‘The root
[racine] is the irreducible element common to all words of same family’ --
‘the element in which the meaning common to all related words reaches the
highest degree of abstraction and generality’ (CG 186). The ‘radical [radical]’ ‘is generally the common element’ in ‘a
series of related words’ and ‘conveys the idea common to every word’ (CG
185). Despite the similar definitions (and common etymology), the ‘radical’
differs from the ‘root’ -- ‘even when phonetically identical to it’ --
in being ‘reducible’, longer, and less ‘general’ and ‘abstract’ (CG
186). ‘The prefix goes before the part of the word that is recognized as the
radical’; ‘the suffix is the
element added to the root to make a radical’ (CG 187). ‘The prefix also
differs from the suffix’ in being ‘more sharply delimited, for it is easier
to separate from the word as a whole’ (CG 188). ‘A complete word usually
remains after the prefix is removed’, but not after ‘the suffix’ is.
2.63
Word-parts can be a problem in gathering data. Saussure enlists cases where
‘the division’ ‘is self-evident’; where the ‘radical emerges
spontaneously when we compare’; or where ‘the speaker knows, before he has
made any comparison with other forms, where to draw the line between the prefix
and what follows it’ (CG 185, 188).23 Moreover, ‘the root’
‘is a reality in the mind of speakers’, though they ‘do not always single
it out with equal precision’ (CG 186). ‘In certain idioms’, in ‘German,
for instance’, ‘definite characteristics call the root to the attention of
speakers’; but ‘the feeling for roots scarcely exists in French’ (CG
186f). Still, ‘structural rules’, ‘regular alternations’, and
‘possible oppositions’ that ‘single out the subunits’ ‘which language
recognizes and the values which it attaches to them’ (CG 187ff) might be
grasped only by specialists.
2.64
Word-parts can start out as separate ‘elements’ and then get ‘welded’ by
‘agglutination’ ‘into one
unit’ ‘which is absolute or hard to analyse’ (CG 169, 176). ‘The mind
gives up analysis -- it takes a short-cut’ -- and ‘the whole cluster of
signs’ ‘becomes a simple unit’ (CG 177). ‘The phenomenon’ has ‘three
phases: (1) the combining of several terms in a syntagm’; (2) ‘the
synthesizing of the elements into a new unit’; and ‘(3) every other change
necessary to make the old cluster of signs more like a simple word’, e.g.,
‘unification of accent’. Saussure finds a ‘striking’ ‘contrast’: ‘agglutination’
‘blends’ ‘units’ and ‘works only in syntagms’, whereas ‘analogy’
‘builds’ ‘units’ and ‘calls forth associative series as well as
syntagms’ (CG 177f). ‘Agglutination is neither wilful nor active’ and its
‘elements’ are ‘slowly set’; ‘analogy’ ‘requires analyses and
combinations, intelligent action, and intention’, and makes ‘arrangements’
‘in one swoop’. However, Saussure admits, ‘often it is difficult to say
whether an analysable form arose through agglutination or as an analogical
construction’ -- ‘only history can enlighten us’ (CG 178f), and, we were
told, ordinary speakers do not perceive diachronically (cf. 2.35, 40, 46).24
2.65
The counterpart of ‘syntagmatic’
is, as we saw, ‘associative’, a
domain that would later be called ‘paradigmatic’
(4.57f; 5.74; 6.34; 8.32; 9.3; 12.71).25 ‘Whereas a syntagm
immediately suggests an order of succession and a fixed number of elements,
terms in an associative family occur neither in fixed numbers nor in a definite
order’ (CG 126). In the latter ‘family’, then, ‘a particular word is
like the centre of a constellation’, or ‘the point of convergence of an
indefinite number of co-ordinated terms’ that ‘float around’ within ‘one
or more associative series’ (CG 126, 129). ‘Large’ ‘associations’
‘fix the notion of parts of speech’ by ‘combining all substantives,
adjectives, etc.’ (CG 138). However, ‘the traditional divisions of
grammar’ ‘do not correspond to natural distinctions’ (CG 136) (cf. 3.23;
4.55; 5.73; 6.49; 8.43; 13.24). ‘The mind creates as many associative series
as there are diverse relations’, though Saussure's editors suggest that ‘the
mind naturally discards associations that becloud the intelligibility of
discourse’ (CG 125ff).
2.66
The mentalist outlook is crucial here because ‘co-ordinations formed outside
discourse’ ‘are not supported by linearity’ or by ‘the theory of
syntagms’ (CG 123, 136). ‘Their seat is in the brain; they are part of the
inner storehouse that makes up the language of each speaker’ (CG 123) (2.16).
‘These associations fix word-families, inflectional paradigms, and formative
elements (radicals, suffixes, inflectional endings, etc.) in our minds’ (CG
138). Perhaps Saussure's inclination toward mentalism on this point reflects his
determination to keep his ‘science’ clear of ‘speaking’, the domain
which, as we shall see with Bloomfield, Pike, and Firth, best supports a
non-mentalist orientation. All the same, the ‘functioning of the dual
system’ Saussure depicts must be inferred from actual ‘discourse’ (CG 129)
before it can be projected into ‘our minds’ (cf. 13.1).26
2.67
Such problems are conspicuously less acute in respect to the sounds of language, the area which Saussure, like many of our
theorists, considered most basic (cf. 2.17, 70f; 3.18, 58f; 4.30, 79; 5.42, 512;
7.20, 72; 8.66f; 12.80, 82; 13.27). In ‘the domain of phonetics’, the
‘absolute distinction between diachrony and synchrony’ is easiest to
‘maintain’ (CG 141). The same point could, I think, be made for the division
between ‘language’ and ‘speaking’, or between ‘social’ and
‘individual’: the sounds of language possess a more reliable identity apart
from any one set of occurrences than do, say, meanings (cf. 2.85; 13.27).
2.68
Saussure's assessment differs from the one favoured in later linguistics when he
uses ‘phonetics’ for ‘the study
of the evolution of sounds’, and ‘phonology’
for ‘the physiology of sounds’ (CG 33) (cf. 4.30; 6.43; 8.70; 12.80). In
addition, he avers that ‘phonetics is a basic part of the science of language;
phonology’ ‘is only an auxiliary discipline and belongs exclusively to
speaking’. He repeatedly warns against ‘lumping together’ the two
‘absolutely distinct disciplines’. The ‘principles of phonology’ are
concerned with ‘the phonational mechanism’ and ‘mechanical’
‘elements’ (CG 48, 51, 38). But ‘phonational movements do not constitute
language’; ‘explaining all the movements of the vocal apparatus’ ‘in no
way illuminates the problem of language’ (CG 33) (cf. 2.71, 77; 3.17; 4.29;
6.7).
2.69
Elsewhere, though, he uses the term ‘phonology’ in its later standard sense:
‘the description of the sounds of a language-state’ (CG 140). ‘We must
draw up for each language studied a phonological
system’ comprising ‘a fixed number of well-differentiated phonemes’
(CG 34) (cf. 4.29f, 33f, 45; 5.42f; 6.43; 835; 12.80, 89; 13.26).
‘This system’ is declared ‘the only set of facts that interests the
linguist’; ‘graphic symbols bear but a faint resemblance to it’ (CG 34f).
‘Modern linguists have finally seen the light’ and ‘freed’
‘linguistics’ ‘from the written word’ (CG 32f), although his own
exclusion of writing was not maintained (2.21ff). His ‘rational method’ for
‘dealing with a living language’ includes both ‘(a) setting up the system
of sounds revealed by direct observation, and (b) observing the system of signs
used to represent -- imperfectly -- these sounds’ (CG 37). ‘Phonology’ can
‘provide precautionary measures for dealing with the written form’ (CG 34).
He even concedes that ‘the perceptible image of the written word’ keeps us
from ‘perceiving only a shapeless and unmanageable mass’; ‘apart from
their graphic symbols, sounds are only vague notions’ (CG 32) (cf. 2.23; 4.40;
68; 8.71, 833). Surprisingly though, he recommends that
‘a phonological alphabet’, with ‘one symbol for each element’, be
reserved for ‘linguists only’ (CG 33f) (cf. 8.75). ‘A page of phonological
writing’ would present a ‘distressing appearance’ and be ‘weighed down
by diacritical marks’. ‘Phonological exactitude is not very desirable
outside science’ (cf. 4.32).
2.70
Saussure advocates a ‘science that uses binary
combinations and sequences of phonemes as a point of departure’ (CG 50) (cf.
5.21, 40). This ‘science would treat articulatory moves like algebraic
equations: a binary combination implies a certain number of mechanical and
acoustical elements that mutually condition each other’ (CG 51) (cf. 2.60;
13.15). ‘In a phonational act’, i.e., ‘the production of sound by the
vocal organs’, the ‘universal’ aspect transcending ‘all the local
differences of its phonemes’ is ‘the mechanical regularity of the
articulatory movements’ (CG 38, 51) (cf. 3.14, 21; 4.29; 5.42; 6.43; 7.20;
8.66, 70; 12.80; 13.26). In these ‘movements’, ‘a given sound obviously
corresponds to a given act’ (CG 40). ‘All species of phonemes will be
determined when all phonational acts are identified’ (CG 43). Accordingly,
‘the phonologist’ should ‘analyse a sufficient number of spoken chains
from different languages’ in order to ‘identify and classify the
elements’, ‘ignoring acoustically unimportant variations’ (CG 40).
2.71
A ‘natural point of departure for phonology’ is to ‘divide ‘the sound
chain’ ‘into homogeneous’ ‘beats’, ‘each beat’ ‘corresponding’
to a ‘concrete irreducible unit’ and ‘characterized by unity of
impression’ (CG 38, 53) (cf. 916). ‘A phoneme is the sum of the auditory
impressions and articulatory
movements, the unit heard and the unit spoken, each conditioning the other’
(CG 40) (cf. 3.17f; 4.28ff; 5.43; 12.80f). ‘The auditory beat’ matches the
‘articulatory beat’. In fact, ‘auditory impressions exist unconsciously
before phonological units are studied’ and enable ‘the observer’ to
‘single out subdivisions in the series of articulatory movements’ (CG 38).
So ‘auditory impression’ is ‘the basis for any theory’ and ‘comes to
us just as directly as the image of the moving vocal organs’ (CG 38). But
Saussure offers a ‘classification of sounds according to their oral
articulation’, even though these
‘movements do not constitute language’ (CG 44f, 33) (cf. 2.68, 77; 3.21;
4.34).27
2.72
‘The signifier, being auditory, is unfolded solely in time’ and
‘represents a span’ ‘measurable in a single dimension’ (CG 70) (cf. cf.
2.60; 13.33). In any ‘grouping’, a given ‘sound’ ‘stands in
syntagmatic opposition to its environing sounds and in associative opposition to
all other sounds that may come to mind’ (CG 131) (cf. 2.57). ‘Phonologists
too often forget that language is made up’ ‘of expanses of spoken sounds’,
whose ‘reciprocal relations’ merit ‘attention’ (CG 49f) (cf. 4.35;
8.65). Indeed, ‘the science of sounds becomes invaluable only when two or more
elements are involved in a relationship based on their inner dependence’.
Here, ‘combinatory phonology’ can ‘define the constant relations of
interdependent phonemes’, such as that between ‘implosion and explosion’
(CG 51f) (cf. 2.23). ‘Freedom in linking phonological species is checked by
the possibility of linking articulatory movements’.
2.73
Whereas ‘phonology is outside time,
for the articulatory mechanism never changes’, ‘phonetics is a historical science, analysing events and changes and
moving through time’, and therefore ‘the prime object of diachronic linguistics’ (CG 33, 140) (cf. 2.37). Though he
believes ‘phonetic evolution is a disturbing force’, Saussure says
‘phonetic changes are absolutely regular’ in the sense that they ‘result
in the identical alteration of all words containing the same phoneme’ (CG 161
153, 143; cf. CG 35). However, ‘absolute changes are extremely rare’; more
often, ‘what is transformed’ is ‘the phoneme as it occurs under certain
conditions -- its environment, accentuation, etc’. (CG 144). Saussure
distinguishes ‘spontaneous and combinatory phonetic phenomena’, the former having an
‘internal’ ‘cause’, and the latter ‘resulting from the presence of one
or more other phonemes’.28
2.74
‘Phonetic changes’ may seem ‘unlimited and incalculable’ (CG 151), but
some limits are postulated. For example, ‘phonetic evolution cannot create two
forms to replace one’ (CG 155). So ‘phonetic doublets do not exist; the
evolution of sounds only emphasizes previous differences’ (CG 157). ‘The
same unit cannot be subjected at the same time and in the same place to two
different transformations’ (CG 155f). Every ‘duality’ or ‘alternation’
thus gets classified as ‘grammatical and synchronic’, ‘absolutely
unrelated to phonetic changes’ (CG 156ff). Here, ‘the diachronic character
of phonetics fits in very well with the principle that anything which is
phonetic is neither significant nor grammatical’ (CG 141) (cf. 2.54f). If
‘phonetic changes attack only the material substance of words’, ‘in
studying the history of the sounds in a word we may ignore meaning’ and
‘consider only the material envelope of a word’ (CG 18, 141). Nonetheless,
when ‘phonetic modifications’ ‘result in alternations’ or
‘oppositions’, ‘the mind seizes upon the material difference, gives it
significance, and makes it the carrier of conceptual difference’ or
‘attaches grammatical values’ (CG 159, 231). Once again, causes and effects
get put into different theoretical domains (cf. 2.41).
2.75
By dividing things up this way, Saussure provides no proper home for ‘etymology’,
the history of both forms and their meanings: it is ‘neither a distinct
discipline nor a division of evolutionary linguistics’ (CG 189). ‘It is only
a special application of principles that relate to synchronic and diachronic
facts’. ‘Analogy’ is called upon to ‘show’ that ‘the synchronic
relation of several different terms’ ‘is the most important part of
etymological research’. ‘Etymology is then mainly the explaining of words
through the historical study of their relations with other words’. Its
‘description’ of ‘facts’ ‘is not methodical, for it’ ‘borrows its
data alternately from phonetics, morphology, semantics, etc.’ (CG 190). It
‘uses every means placed at its disposal by linguistics, but it is not
concerned with the nature of the operations it is obliged to perform’.
Besides, ‘etymology’ is fraught with ‘uncertainty’: ‘words with
well-established origins’ are ‘rare’, and ‘scholars’ may be led into
‘rashness’ (CG 225).
2.76
To seek ‘the causes of phonetic changes’ is to confront ‘one of the most
difficult problems in linguistics’ (CG 147) (cf. 3.54-60; 4.75). Some
possibilities are rejected: ‘racial predispositions’, ‘soil and
climate’, and ‘changes in fashion’ (CG 147, 151) (cf. 32;
4.80). Others are provisionally accepted, though not as complete or conclusive
causes: ‘the law of least effort’; ‘phonetic education during
childhood’; ‘political instability’ of a ‘nation’; and the
‘linguistic substratum’ of an ‘indigenous population’ ‘absorbed’ by
‘newcomers’ (CG 148-51). Yet if we believe ‘a historical event must have
some determining cause’ (CG 150), we will be hard put to explain why certain
changes and no others occurred at just the times they did.
2.77
The programme for the study of sounds outlined by Saussure has remained a
fundamental part of linguistics, though the emphasis on sound changes has
receded. Having a mentalist orientation, he wanted a theory that would not
depend on ‘material’ aspects (2.16f) and insisted ‘the movements of the
vocal apparatus’ do not ‘illuminate the problem of language’ (2.68, 72).
But his ultimate recourse was a ‘classification’ based on ‘oral
articulation’ (2.71; 13.26).
2.78
Perhaps to offset the abstractness of language, Saussure, like many linguists,
draws comparisons with more tangible entities. Though he misprizes the
‘illogical metaphors’ of rival ‘schools’, he admits that ‘certain
metaphors are indispensable’ (CG 5). Some of his own are fairly proximate,
e.g., when he compares ‘language’ to ‘a dictionary of which identical
copies have been distributed to each individual’; or ‘the social side of
speech’ to ‘a contract signed by the members of a community’; or ‘the
vocal organs’ to ‘electrical devices used in transmitting the Morse code’
(CG 19, 14, 18).
2.79
Other metaphors are more remote, e.g., when the language system is pictured in
terms of a ‘theatre’, ‘a symphony’, ‘a tapestry’, ‘a garment
covered with patches cut from its own cloth’, or ‘the planets that revolve
around the sun’ (CG 179, 18, 33, 172, 84f). A ‘system of phonemes’ is said
to work like a ‘piano’ (CG 94). Studying ‘the evolution of language’ is
compared to ‘sketching a panorama of the Alps’ and ‘moving’ ‘from one
peak of the Jura to another’ (CG 82). ‘The autonomy’ of
‘synchrony’ is analogous to ‘the projection of an object on a plane
surface’ or to ‘the stem of a plant’ ‘cut transversely’ (CG 87).
‘The word is like a house in which the arrangement and function of different
rooms has been changed’; or like a ‘five-franc piece’ that ‘can be
exchanged for a fixed quantity’ or ‘compared with similar values’ (CG 183,
115). ‘A linguistic unit is like the fixed part of a building, e.g. a
column’ (CG 123f). ‘Thought’ and ‘sound’ resemble ‘the air in
contact with a sheet of water’, or the ‘front’ and ‘back’ of ‘a
sheet of paper’ (CG 112f, 115).29 ‘Trains’ and ‘streets’
are enlisted to expound the interplay of ‘differences and identities’ (CG
108f). The ‘analogical fact’ is portrayed as ‘a play with a cast of
three’ -- the ‘legitimate heir’, ‘the rival’, and ‘a collective
character’ (CG 163). ‘The description of a language state’ is modelled
after the ‘grammar of the Stock Exchange’, which suggests a more everyday
sense for the term ‘values’ (CG 134) (cf. 2.27ff, 36, 58).
2.80
Saussure's ‘most fruitful’ ‘comparison’ is ‘drawn between the
functioning of language and a game of chess’ (CG 88f, 22f, 95, 107, 110) (cf.
6.51; 949; 11.4). ‘The respective value of the pieces depends on
their position on the chessboard just as each linguistic term derives its value
from its opposition to all the other terms’ (CG 88) (cf. 2.26, 57f, 72).
Though ‘the system’ ‘varies from one position to the next’, ‘the set
of rules’ ‘persists’ and ‘outlives all events’ (CG 88, 95). The
‘material make-up’ of the pieces has no ‘effect on the “grammar” of
the game’ (CG 110, 23). However, ‘chess’ is ‘artificial’, whereas
‘language’ is ‘natural’; and ‘the chessplayer intends’ to
‘exert an action on the system, whereas language premeditates nothing’:
‘the pieces’ are ‘modified spontaneously and fortuitously’ (CG 88f) (cf.
2.52, 63, 73).
2.81
Such metaphors relieve Saussure's abstract vision of language by introducing
objects or events that could be seen or felt, and whose reality admits little
doubt. Yet even the most complex metaphor, the chess game, falls far short of
the complexity of language. The rules and pieces of chess are known to anyone
who plays the game, and disputes about them are unlikely to arise. The rules and
units of language are so numerous, diffuse, and adaptable that even experts
seldom agree on any large number of them. A ‘linguistic term’ rarely stands
in such a clear and stable ‘opposition to all the others’ as a bishop or a
knight differs from all other chess pieces.
2.82
The abstractness of language can also be offset by comparing linguistics to
other ‘sciences’ like ‘geology’, ‘zoology’, ‘astronomy’, and
‘chemistry’ (CG 213, 53, 106f) (cf. 13.11). These sciences have reasonably
concrete object domains; but Saussure's favoured model was mathematics, which
does not (cf. 3.73; 4.21; 13.15). ‘Language’ can be conceived as ‘a type
of algebra consisting solely of complex terms’ (CG 122) (cf. 3.72f; 5.27, 86;
6.8, 29, 51, 60; 7.40, 718). ‘Relations’ should be
‘expressed’ by ‘algebraic formulas’, ‘proportions’, and
‘equations’, though Saussure does not expect a ‘formula’ to ‘explain
the phenomenon’ (CG 122, 164f, 166f, 169). Moreover, ‘studying a
language-state means in practice disregarding changes of little importance, just
as mathematicians disregard infinitesimal quantities in certain calculations’
(CG 102).
2.83
And building a science of language was Saussure's ultimate aspiration.
Presumably, the reason why he ‘probably would not have authorized the
publication of these pages’ (2.1) was that his own conceptions seemed too
unstable and unsatisfactory to fit his ideals of science. He firmly asserted
categorical dichotomies, but could not always maintain them himself, e.g.
‘synchronic’ versus ‘diachronic’ (2.38f), or ‘collective’ versus
‘individual’ (2.20, 61). He emphasized that language is social and
psychological, yet wanted linguistics cleanly separated from sociology and
psychology (2.7, 16, 28, 31ff, 35, 78; cf. 13.14).30 He situated
language in the minds of speakers, but could not decide how far the speaker's
knowledge of a language is comparable to the categorical framework of
linguistics (cf. 2.33f, 36, 42, 45, 59, 63, 63).31 He vacillated
between mentalism and mechanism in appealing to notions like ‘brain’,
‘mind’, and ‘thought’ (2.16f, 18, 27, 31ff, 35, 40, 52, 57, 63, 65f, 74;
13.10), yet repeatedly referring to language itself as a ‘mechanism’ (CG 87,
103, 108, 111, 121, 133, 161, 165). Perhaps he wanted to deflect the issues of
intention and will (cf. 2.20, 47, 64, 80).
2.84
Of course, the nature of language is so intricate and multiplex that its
descriptions often entail inconsistencies, and a pioneering disquisition like
the Cours is liable to be full of them. It both asserts and doubts that
linguistics should involve a study of speech, pay attention to writing, and
accept the word as a basic unit (2.19, 21, 23, 60, 18). Inconsistencies also
beset the views that traditional grammar was a mistaken enterprise (2.5f); that
grammar has a historical aspect (2.55); and that language is essentially
arbitrary (2.28f). Some of these vacillations may be due to the improviso
circumstances of its composition, or to the carelessness or exaggerated
reverence of the editors, who do not comment upon them. But more importantly,
language seems to have been resisting Saussure's determined campaign to make it
hold still, to be as static, orderly and precisely circumscribed as he wanted it
to be (cf. 13.52).
2.85
Some of the abstractions and dichotomies he deployed in this campaign tended to
disperse the very factors that might have assisted him (cf. 13.55). His
dismissal of ‘speaking’ and thus of actual discourse led him to inflate
‘the arbitrary nature of the sign’ (2.28f, 47), to fall back on
‘association’ and ‘opposition’ (2.57ff), and to neglect methods of
data-gathering (cf. 13.27, 45). His turn against ‘diachrony’ left him deeply
perplexed about ‘time’ and ‘history’ (cf. 2.12, 20, 34, 36, 39f, 42f,
45f, 55, 59f, 72f, 75f). Arguing from the neat oppositions of phonemic systems
clashed sharply with the elusive, often metaphoric handling of semantics in
terms of ‘concepts’, ‘ideas’, ‘thoughts’, and ‘signifieds’
(2.17, 25-28, 31f, 48, 52, 58, 62).
2.86
Many of Saussure's successors have underestimated the intricacies and
qualifications within his arguments. Some of his terms, concepts, and
dichotomies have been taken at face value, oversimplified, or treated as
absolutes for the theory, doctrine, and organization of linguistics. This
premature and selective orthodoxy has not merely misrepresented Saussure's
intent to raise issues and problems rather than to resolve them, but has impeded
comprehensive solutions. The reach of his vision is best revealed in the way
that the same perplexities and dilemmas both explicit and implicit in his book
have persisted in linguistics ever since. We are still uncertain about how a
language is related to the multitude of speech events in the experience of
language users, including linguists or grammarians (13.26, 49). We are still
without an account of time and space in language (13.33). Disputes still rage
over the status of rules or laws applying to all languages, and over the nature
of linguistic units, especially in semantics (13.26ff, 60). Written language
still dominates the representational methods of theories ostensibly concerned
with spoken language (13.33). And little headway has been made in determining
what sort of causalities apply in language, and how.
2.87
Thus, Saussure's deliberations deserve their place at the outset of ‘modern
linguistics’ by virtue of their problematic nature as well as their monumental
scope. He thought it ‘evident’ ‘that linguistic questions interest all who
work with texts’ (CG 7). Consequently, ‘that linguistics should continue to
be the prerogative of a few specialists would be unthinkable -- everyone is
concerned with it in one way or another’ (cf. 3.2). To be sure, Saussure's own
work was a major contributor to the specializing of language models. But if read
with the care they deserve, his inaugural deliberations provide both an
inspiring and a sobering impetus for reconsidering how to stake out possible
topographies of the discipline.
NOTES
ON SAUSSURE
1
The Course in General Linguistics, translated by Wade Baskin, is cited as
CG. I occasionally use square brackets to give the original French or to emend
the English translation, which I found generally reliable. For a thorough
exegesis of Saussure's ‘manuscript sources’ see Godel (1957).
2
On inconsistencies, see 2.83f, and Notes 3, 10, 12, 14, 16, 17, 20, 22, 23, 29,
and 32.
3
He expressly points out such dictions as ‘language does this or that’ or the
‘life of language’ (CG 5n). Further terms he both condemned and used include
‘material’, ‘natural’, ‘organism’, and ‘mechanism’ (2.17, 30,
83).
4
Scholars cited here include: for the first stage none, for the second stage
Friedrich August Wolf, and for the third stage Franz Bopp (1816), William Jones,
Jacob Grimm (1822-36), August Friedrich Pott, Adalbert Kuhn, Theodor Benfey,
Theodor Aufrecht, Max Muller (1861), Georg Curtius (1879), and August Schleicher
(1861) (CG 1-5) (see my References for presumable source-works). Among those who
‘brought linguistics nearer its true object’, mention is made of Friedrich
Christian Diez (1836-38), Dwight Whitney (1875), and ‘the neogrammarians (Junggrammatiker)
[Friedrich] K[arl] Brugmann, H[elmut] Ostoff, the Germanic scholars W[ilhelm]
Braune, E[duard] Sievers, and H[ermann] Paul, and the Slavic scholar [August]
Leskien’ (CG 5) (again, see References). The works receive only cursory,
mainly negative commentary, or none, except for Bopp's. A fuller coverage is
given by Bloomfield. Firth declared homage to very early grammarians, but only
to English ones (cf. 8.15, 812).
5
Saussure's first major work was his Memoire sur le systeme primitif des
voyelles dans les langues indo-europeenes, published in 1878 and still
regarded today as a milestone in philology.
6
This abstruse argument reflects Saussure's belief that historical changes have a
less systematic organization than the language at any single point in time
(2.14, 19f). But elsewhere he says it is ‘a serious mistake to consider
dissimilar facts as a single phenomenon’ (CG 146).
7
Nor is the word a reliable tool for theory: ‘starting from words in defining
things is a bad procedure’, and ‘all definitions of words are made in
vain’ (CG 14).
8
The study of etymology falls between the cracks in Saussure's scheme, since it
is historical and yet not limited to word-sounds. See 2.75.
9
In denying ‘phonetic doublets’, Saussure dispatches one case because one of
two forms ‘is only a learned borrowing’; two more cases are passed over as
‘literary French’ (CG 156) (cf. 4.83). However, Saussure is not terribly
well-disposed toward dialects either: because they conflict with his vision of
the unified, closed system, he makes a shaky argument that diversity in space is
‘actually’ diversity in time and thus would fall under his exclusion of
diachrony (cf 2.43, 217).
10
In his last lectures (‘from May to July 1911), de Saussure used
interchangeably the old terminology (“idea” and “sign”) and the new
(“signifier” and “signified”)’ (CG 75, translator's note). The new
became standard, especially among semioticians.
11
Whitney is credited with ‘insisting upon the arbitrary nature of the sign’,
though he ‘did not follow through’ by making it a defining trait of language
(CG 76).
12
Comparisons between ‘language’ and a ‘plant’ are also decried, though
Saussure later compares the static and evolutionary versions of linguistics to
cutting a plant ‘transversely’ or ‘longitudinally’ (CG 4, 87f) (2.79).
13
‘Two objections’ are met by arguing that ‘onomatopoeia’ and
‘interjections’ are either outside the system, or if they do enter they
become ‘unmotivated’ (CG 69). Compare 34.
14
‘The sound-image is sensory, and if I happen to call it “material”, it is
only in that sense, and by way of opposing it’ to ‘the concept’ (CG 66).
15
Saussure argues from here that ‘linguistics’ has ‘only one method’ (CG
212), namely the ‘synchronic’ one he favours (CG 212) (2.36). He did not
consider that isolating an ideal, static state of the language may increase
rather than reduce the number of possible methods, as the subsequent development
of linguistics showed (cf. Ch. 7). On the question of whether linguistic
constructs match the knowledge of speakers, compare 2.40, 42, 44, 47, 53, 59,
63, 83; 3.11, 19, 57, 222, and the passages cited in 13.49.
16
See for instance CG 38, 47, 72, 118, 138, 165; and compare the passages cited in
13.49. In one passage where the translation has ‘speakers are not
conscious’, the original French has ‘the language [langue] is not
conscious’ (CG 47).
17
In one section, ‘geographical isolation’ is waved aside as an
‘unsatisfactory and superficial explanation; differentiation can always be
explained without it’ (CG 210). But in another, ‘geographical separation’
is judged ‘the most general force in linguistic diversity’ (CG 193).
18
The other occasion is ‘Saussure's treatment of holds’, i.e., ‘intermediate
stretches’ in ‘spoken chains’, as both ‘mechanical and acoustic
entities’ (CG 52).
19
‘Non-phonetic’ because Saussure decides to make ‘analogy’
‘grammatical’ (2.54). In return, ‘phonetics’ is made the centre of
‘diachronic linguistics’ (2.73), befitting the preoccupation of philology
with sound changes.
20
In another formulation, ‘language’ is claimed to do the same thing (CG 169)
(2.52). The discussion of how innovations occur (cf. 2.45) suggests that
‘speech’ is probably the better term.
21
Languages in which ‘most words are not decomposable’ are termed
‘lexicological’, the others being ‘grammatical’ (CG 166) (cf. 2.29;
3.53). Making words out of decomposable units helps ‘limit arbitrariness’
(CG 133) (2.29). This notion of ‘lexicological’ seems to befit the idea of
the lexicon being a listing of irregularities (13.59).
22
Elsewhere, however, Saussure concedes that ‘grammatical classes evolve’,
thus putting in question ‘the absolute distinction between diachrony and
synchrony’ (CG 141). ‘Once the phonetic force is eliminated, we find a
residue that seems to justify the idea of a “history of grammar”‘; but
‘the distinction between diachrony and synchrony’ is still judged
‘indispensable’ for reasons ‘calling for detailed explanations outside the
scope of this course’ (CG 143).
23
But compare some formulations suggesting diversity instead: ‘speakers often
single out several kinds’ or ‘grades of radicals in the same family of
words’; ‘delimitations will vary according to the nature of the terms
compared’; and ‘the speaker may make every imaginable division’ (CG 185,
188).
24
The editors comment: ‘the two phenomena act jointly in the history of
language, but agglutination always comes first’ and ‘furnishes models for
analogy’ (CG 178). If not followed up by ‘analogy’, ‘agglutination’
‘produces only unanalysable or unproductive words’.
25
The term ‘paradigmatic’ prevents confusion with the different kind of
‘association’ Saussure postulates between sound-image and concept, or
between signifier and signified (e.g. CG 14f, 18f, 65f, 76, 102) (2.25).
26
An exception might be where ‘an identical function’ among various forms
‘creates the association in absence of any material support’ (CG 138). A
case in point would be the ‘zero sign’ (CG 86, 186) (cf. 43;
5.56; 616; 7.75, 90).
27
The editors ‘supplement’ ‘Saussure's brief description’ with
‘material’ from Otto Jespersen, but claim to be ‘merely carrying out de
Saussure's intent’ (CG 41).
28
‘But a spontaneous fact’ ‘may be conditioned negatively by the absence of
certain forces of change’ -- an odd stipulation in a conception devised for
‘the classing of changes’ (CG 144f).
29
The ‘sheet of paper’ metaphor became the famous one in semiotics, though the
‘air and water’ one is probably more insightful, since one side is, as
Saussure notes, more ‘material’ (214), and surely the two sides
would be ‘cut’ differently in an analysis (cf. 6.47f).
30
For Saussure, ‘the viewpoint of the psychologist’ is to ‘study the
sign-mechanism in the individual’ (CG 17). This is precisely not the
view in empirical psychology, which seeks statistical significance among large
populations (cf. Ch. 10). Saussure may have had psychoanalysis in mind here, as
Sapir did (cf. 3.12).
31
In particular, he both claimed and denied that speakers can discern word-parts,
change language, and observe language change (cf. 2.42, 44f, 63, 223).