Tomasz Majtczak

At many stages of its development the Japanese language has shown a marked tendency to replace analytic constructions with synthetic forms. In the article this phenomenon is presented and investigated by taking the example of some volitive expressions, among other things the Old Japanese construction -(a)maku posi-, which evolved into the Classical Japanese suffix -(a)mafosi-, as well as the Classical Japanese suffix -(a)mau-, whose origin, however, is to be associated with analogical formation rather than phonetic reduction. All phases of the development of these expressions are here copiously illustrated with textual examples.

In the eleventh book of the “Man’yōshū” 萬葉集 (‘Collection of a myriad leaves’, after 771), the oldest extant anthology of Japanese poetry, under number 2802, there is included a poem of no certain authorship.

The article investigates some aspects of the Old Turkic word sü. A sense not recorded in the standard dictionaries is established on the basis of a philological analysis of the available texts. The phonetic shape of sü is defended against some claims proposing a different vocalic or consonantal part of it. And finally, a derivation of this word from a Chinese source is questioned as not satisfactorily proved
 

The Old (eighth cent.) and Classical (ninth–twelfth cent.) Japanese verbal noun, in contemporary Japan called ku gohō , was formed by means of a word-final suffix which can be presented in the general shape of -((u)r)aku / -ke1ku. Having a nominalising function, the morpheme transformed verbs and adjectives into action or state nouns of a wide spectrum of meanings: ‘doing something / being something’, ‘the fact that (he) does / is’, ‘what (he) does’, which – if accompanied by a suitable postposition – could also serve as predicates in subordinate clauses.
The nouns under consideration fell into disuse before the mid Classical period, only a dozen or so having survived up to the present day as petrified derivatives. The present article aims to examine the productivity of the suffix in some of the oldest extant texts, as well as the details of its disappearance.
In the “Man’yōshū” (after 771) the verbal noun is very frequent, combining both with verbs (of virtually all conjugations) and with adjectives, and showing no sign of restriction by any word-non-final suffix. In the fifth book alone, which comprises 114 poems, it appears as many as fifteen times – this amounts to an average of one form per 7.6 poems, and confirms the full vitality of the noun in the eighth century.
The “Taketori monogatari” (ninth / tenth cent.) also attests the morpheme in question rather abundantly, but added to three verbs only and without any word-non-final suffix interposed. All thirty-three occurrences are used to introduce quotations, often coupled with another form of the same verb which closes the direct speech – a pattern common in later texts too.
In the “Ise monogatari” (early tenth cent.) the verbal noun appears fifteen times, almost exclusively in the verse portions, and is invariably, with the exception of two fossils, represented by either of the following constructions: -(a)n-aku ni ‘since / when / although (he) does not’ – ten times, or -(a)m-aku fosi- ‘(he) wishes to’ – three times.
The first imperial anthology of poetry, “Kokin (waka) shū” (905–914), despite its relative variegation of the noun under discussion, is but a shadow of the “Man’yōshū”’s splendour, and most of these forms should rather be regarded as linguistic relics. In the beginning five books, constituting one fourth of the whole and comprising 313 poems, one finds the suffix sixteen times, but the forms’ absolute homogeneity is more than striking. Ki no Tsurayuki in his “Tosa nikki” (around 935) used the said morpheme with economy, adhering to the established derivatives. One combination, however, namely if-ik-er-akuhere is what she said,’ stands out as long unseen and was perhaps taken over from some older text. The diary contains eight examples of the suffix altogether. Murasaki Shikibu’s “Genji monogatari” (around 1004–1011) seems an excellent touchstone of the productivity of the verbal noun at that time, due to both its considerable size and the profusion of dialogues. Unfortunately, in the novel’s fifty-four lengthy chapters the suffix can be located merely three times, always being a part of some petrified form. Thus, any further quest becomes futile – the verbal noun must be pronounced dead. On the basis of the above material, the frequency of the suffix’s occurrence in the selected Old and Classical Japanese texts (or their parts) can be summarised in the table presented in paragraph 5, where the number of pages (A) and the number of attested forms (B) are brought together to show the average number of forms per one hundred pages ((A / B) × 100). The process of the disappearance clearly divides into three phases:
– until the end of the eighth century: virtually unlimited productivity and common use (at least in poetry; for prose appropriate texts are missing),
– ninth and tenth centuries: usage mainly restricted to the verbs of speech (in prose) and to the negative construction -(a)n-aku ni (in poetry); the frequency decreases slowly but steadily,
– since the early eleventh century: only lexicalised derivatives persist.
From the eleventh century on, it is solely the form if-aku (vel sim.) ‘here is what (he) says / said’, introducing a quotation, that still appears quite often in texts, although some other form of a verb of speech is used to close the sentence too. This is probably to be explained in part by the relative attractiveness of such a pleonastic construction, which can be observed in languages of different types: Classical Mongolian, Old Turkic, as well as Old Polish. With time, however, even this one lost its popularity. Nevertheless, despite the thousand years that have elapsed since the extinction of the verbal noun, over a dozen of its relics are still encountered in Modern Japanese – amazingly strong resistance indeed.

The paper collects some Yiddish words which do not lend themselves to easy translation and investigates the way they are rendered into Japanese. This is done with the example of the 1999 Japanese translation of Yitsk hok Katsenelson’s Song of the murdered Jewish people. Japanese renderings of selected fifteen lexemes reflecting the culture, religion and everyday life of the Yiddish speakers are gathered, analyzed as for their structure and compared with their German, English, Spanish, French, Polish and Russian counterparts.