#ambetau

Though there is much I ought rather do right now (chief among all my master thesis, due six months ago), I am currently creating a new language for my conworld.

Contrary to what I do for previous languages set in this universe, I will not derivate it from a proto-language. Three reasons: it is an isolate so sister languages are not important, it was a long time since I did such one-shots, and I want to see if diachronical patterns can nevertheless emerge.

Speakers

The Zhu are a troglodyte people whose culture and art borrows heavily from insects. In the plateau where they are found, they live in huge hive-like structure in and on the mountains, reaching in some places very deep in the Earth. Socially, they behave like eusocial insects in that there is no clear hierarchy; people follow those more skilled with the particular task at hand.

Their material culture is rather advanced compared to their agricultural neighbours, whom they lord over and sometimes rob (they would say “tax”) of their harvest and/or able-bodied members.

I’m still working on all that.

Aesthetic

This language is being designed to sound French — such that it could be written with French orthography and be read aloud 100% accurately by a clueless francophone.

For example, the sentence Lu faṅ nimoṅs tü oṁ pük “the polyglot guard goes into the flames” could be written Lou fan nimonce tue on puque [lu|fɑ̃|ni|ˌmɔ̃s|ty|ɔ̃|ˈpyk] and even the stress rules would carry on (in French, the last syllable of sentences and phrases, rather than of a word, is stressed).

A great part of the grammar to this time is influenced by French. That means SVO and head-first, definite and indefinite articles, no inflectional plural for nouns save some exceptions, a working subjunctive (present and past), two genders.

At the same time, there is no inflectional future, no inflectional aspect distinction, adjectives always decline for number, negation involves the subjunctive, plurality is expressed by the lack of article (so that the distinction between definite and indefinite is neutralized there) and the genders have no semantic basis like masc/fem or an/in.

Hopefully we’ll avoid a relexification.

Phonology and orthography

Plosives: p t k b d g

Fricatives: f v s z sh /ʃ/ zh /ʒ/

Nasals: m n

Lateral: l

Glide: y /j/

Oral vowels: a e i o u ö /ø/ ü /y/

In addition, the four nasal vowels /ɑ̃ ɔ̃ ɛ̃ œ̃/ are written before dotted nasal consonants ṅ and ṁ, whose choice depends on etymological reasons (e.g. peṁtu “height” is because “high” is pem). Uṅ/ṁ, iṅ/ṁ and üṅ/ṁ are pronounced /ɔ̃ ɛ̃ œ̃/ like oṅ/ṁ, eṅ/ṁ and öṅ/ṁ; there too the choice between the vowels is etymological.

Some developments since my first post. It was going to be longer, but I decided to cut my post into more easily digestible chunks, one thematic at a time.

So I had this idea that gender will depend more on the shape of the word, especially regarding the suffixes, than on the semantics. It’s not so visible with synchronically improductive suffixes, but will be with productive ones. For example:

-le (agent), -av (person characterised by the root) and -ag (patient) always create nouns of the “human” gender. Thus gòle (gomò “to hit”) is “enemy”, but kòkle (kokmò “to knock”) is the bird “woodpecker”; tòpnat (obl. tòpnag-, from topmò “to hunt”) is “prey”, regardless if the prey is an animal (more often than not, I hope!).

-vi, -pi, and -ìz are improductive suffixes for animals; but the diminutive/hypocoristic -kik can be applied to nouns denoting humans and inanimate too: bràgit “little man; son” and deptàkit “rivulet, stream” trigger “animal” agreement on adjectives (they may trigger “animal” pronouns too, but they may equally not do it).

-ta, -te, -u are improductive “inanimate” suffixes, and -yel derivates names of location, but I’m sure an inanimate noun coming to refer to an animate is rarer than the reverse; it is at least in the languages I know.

As stated here, for my long-winded diachronic project Ambetau, I have to create four protolanguages. Proto-Suner is well under way; Proto-Da comes second, though by far; Paatara suffered from a lack of inspiration, me being dissatisfied with its verbal system; now comes the time for an important ancestor of the linguistic make-up of this world.

So important in fact that I will begin its development a good 2000 diegetic years earlier than the rest; for the Krad peoples were already well differentiated at the time the exiled Suner came to the shore of the continent: they stretched from the southern part of the map that looks like mandibles or pincers to the Alp-analogs in the west. They had agriculture, metallurgy and city-states, though it didn’t protect them from the incoming magicians.

Phonology

Voiceless stops: p t k

Voiced stops: b d g

Fricatives: v z h

Nasals: m n

Semivowels: w y

Liquids: l r

Vowels: a e i o u

The exoticism here comes from the absence of phonemic voiceless fricatives (/h/ is [ɦ]). Maybe there was no fricatives at all in an earlier stage of the language, then a shift occurred that... but I digress.

Consonant structure is (C )(r,l)V( C). At the end of the words, voiceless and voiced stops are realised as unreleased voiceless stops [p̚ t̚] (velar consonants /k g/ merge with apicals).

Stress can occur on the first three syllables of the word. It can move within a paradigm.

Nouns

They decline for case and number (singular, dual, plural). Here for the word “cow”, stem màlvi-:

Nom: màlve

Acc: màlva

Ins: màlven

Abl: màlvol

Dir: màlvaz

Loc: màlvo

Dual:

Nom: màlvit

Acc: màlvita

Ins: màlviten

Abl: màlvitol

Dir: màlvitaz

Loc: màlvito

Plural:

Nom: màlvive

Acc: màlviva

Ins: màlviven

Abl: màlvivol

Dir: màlvivaz

Loc: màlvivo

What happens is that the stem vowel /i/ lowers at the end of the word, and disappears when vowel-initial suffixes are added. The dual is a simple -t flexion. The plural is formed with partial reduplication of the last syllable: -CV if it ends in a vowel, like here; -VC if it ends in a consonant, like the noun brat “man”, pl. bradat; full reduplication with one-syllable CVC nouns, like gal “woman”, pl. gàlgal.

There are three genders: human, animal and inanimate. A word’s appearance does not indicate in which class it belongs, though some derivational suffixes are quite regular (like agent -le, always “human”). Gender surfaces as agreement on adjectives, pronouns and maybe in other places.

Adjectives

They decline as well, and agree with the noun they are an attribute of in gender as well, with three suffixes: -en “human”, -ay “animal”, -al “inanimate”. A fourth suffix, -ir, express plurality and excludes gender; it’s also used with dual nouns.

Tùnen gal, pìlay màlve, wezìr bradat, tlànir ùntat “big woman, little cow, bad men, two black suns”

Pronouns

hen “I”

mut (obl. muk-) “you (sg.)”

no (obl. k-) “he, she (human)”

ya (obl. p-) “he, she, it (animal)”

val (obl. p-) “it”

tìrgu (obl. ìrguw-) “we two”

tìrmu (obl. ìrw-) “you two”

tìr “they two”

ìrgu (obl. ìrguw-) “we”

ìrmu (obl. ìrw-) “you (pl.)”

ìr “they”

Like with the adjectives, gender does not appear in the plural. Oblique stems are suppletive for the 3sg pronouns, and there is syncretism between “animal” and “inanimate”.

Verbs

Number is encoded directly on the stem, with several suffixes varying from verb to verb, although dual number is always -ti-. Then come the tense markers, then the personal markers. Examples with the verb vanmò “to see”

1sg vandìt

2sg vandìm

3sg vandè

2du vantìmu

3du vantìr

1pl vanzàgu

2pl vanzàmu

3pl vanzàr

Past perfective:

1sg vandinùt

2sg vandinùm

3sg vandinù

2du vantinùmu

3du vantinùr

1pl vanzanùgu

2pl vanzanùmu

3pl vanzanùr

Another verb, zimò “to be” has a different set of markers: nothing in the singular and -me for the plural.

Syntax

With a grand total of 16 words, there is not much I can display here. Word order is SOV.

The second part of my efforts of the last few days. The third was adding Russian translations in my dictionaries for the languages of Ambetau. The English ones will follow... before I hit the 1000 word ceiling, let’s hope.

Piling affixes up: polarity, aspect, tense

It’s in the verbs that we’ll see, clearer than elsewhere, the agglutinative nature of Proto-Krad. I already presented the number suffixes, distinct from the person markers (always coming last); closer to the root, they are followed first by the negation suffix -yra: vandìt “I see” —> vandiyràt “I don’t see”.

Then, if applicable, come the (excluding each other) aspect suffixes: inchoative -pe, terminative -li, iterative -mà: vandipèt “I begin to see”, vandilìt “I stop seeing”, vandimàt “I see on and on”.

Finally (for now...) comes the past marker -nu: vandinùt “I saw”.

All together, they could form vandiyràmanut “I did not stop seeing”. Hmm. Still too short.

Imperative and prohibitive

The imperative, formerly analytical, is infinitive+zi for the singular persons, infinitive+zime for the plural persons. By persons, I mean the 2nd and 3rd only.

vanmozì “see! let him/her see!” vanmozìme “see! let them see!”

The prohibitive replace the suffixes -zi and -zime with -yra and -yrame.

Derivation

For the time, I have three affixes creating new verbs: the factitive -hi, and the  applicatives -ni and -ga.

Factitive is easy. It transitivize intransitive verbs and adds an argument to transitive ones: unemègu “we burn” —> unehìzagu “we burn (something)” (-me and -za are number affixes); vanzàr “they see” —> vanhizàr “they show”.

Applicatives are similar in that they add an argument, but there by promoting a peripheral one. For example, Ya ranònowen toprè is “he (animal) runs after the birds”, “birds” being in the instrumental (-en); a sentence Ya toprè “he runs” would be perfectly grammatical. But by adding the applicative -ni, this instrumental argument is promoted to direct objet; the changed meaning may emphasize the new importance of the former circumstancial: Ya ranònowa topnirè “he hunts the birds”. A sentence *ya topnirè wants for an object.

Conlang: Proto-Suner

Agriculture was rudimentary for the Suner people while they lived on the Lost Continent; under the subtropical climate and the different dietary needs of their masters, they only mastered a primitive form of plot-gardening in the jungle; gathering was enough for the rest of their needs. Animal husbandry was their first insight into a possible escape from their slave society...

The word

nilek /niˈlɛk/, n.cl.IV: “seed”

Example

Nilin ne eʰte ïes

seed-PL PST.be like water-PL

“Seeds were (falling) like rain”

Derived words

nilenauʰstap, n.cl.VIII: "bean pod”

annilek, n.cl.IV: “kernel”

Conlang: Proto-Suner

The social structure of the Suner people is at the moment rather ill-defined; but it’s worth remembering that they are at the bottom of a slave society. Some of them, if they got a special talent (magic or animal-taming), have better standards of life, although Ubyrs can strip them of any privilege any time they want.

This peculiar society explains why I needed that long to put such a Swadesh-basic word in Proto-Suner.

The word

enauʰsti /ɛnau̯ʰsˈti/, n.cl.I: “birth mother”

kini /kiˈni/, n.cl.I: “mother, milk mother”

oimi, /ɔi̯ˈmi/, n.cl.I: “headwoman, mother”

The concept of “mother” is broken down in several distinct concepts. An enauʰsti may be put to work right after giving birth, letting the early child-rearing (to the fifth-sixth year) to a kini, a woman whose skills are well-regarded. Their typical age ranges from 15 to 30. An oimi is generally older, in her late 30s to her 50s, and is the primary maternal referent for the working child (and beyond that age), whom she feeds, clothes, listens to and, more likely than not, loves (for they are picked among former kinil).

Any woman could become an enauʰsti, that is, if she can get pregnant and deliver a baby to term. Kinil are a specific caste. Oimil occupy a rank within any worker caste.

A child can have their former kini as their oimi, thus strengthening their bond; it’s rather common when the child has no talent warranting their transfer elsewhere. But enauʰstil could spend their entire lives without seeing their children again.

On a vocabulary note, there is no need for a word for “orphan” within such a system.

Examples

ʰTa enauʰsti ti mi se tʉsul

but parent-SG of this-SG.I LOC illness-SG

“Now her mother is sick”

Kini nupʉkim řa tsil

milk_mother-SG PST-fatten OBJ that-PL.I

“Mother [’s milk] made them fat”

Oimi-mei, uʰpsa se pseiktau...

mother-SG=1s PRS-ache LOC belly-SG

“Mummy, my belly aches...”

Etymology

I back-derive the verb enau “give birth to” from enauʰsti, after subtracting the agent suffix -ʰst(i/a).

Derived words

Enauʰsti:

se enauʰsti, adj: “pregnant”

Kini:

kineři, n.cl.I: “kini caste”

ankini, n.cl.I: “chief of an areal kineři”

eʰte kini, adj: “maternal, motherly”

Oimi:

In my previous explanation of the adjectival system I wrote:

Adjectives are their own class of words in Proto-Suner. They agree in gender and number with their head noun in attributive constructions.

tsana upʉra ‘the strong Ubyr’ tsanil kiʰpil ‘the strong humans’

The adjective tsan ‘strong’ takes the same suffixes as its governing nous. We see also that adjectives come before the noun.

In predicative constructions however, adjectives agree with the noun only with respect to number, with zero-marking in the singular and an -an suffix in the plural. There is also no copula in the present tense.

kipsa tsan ‘the owl is strong’ kipsoit tsanan ‘the owls are strong’

But I was not satisfied. The reason, it was too SAE a grammatical feature, and I already used a similar idea in Ɣu. My other option was to make adjectives into stative verbs, but again, I did it already with Worbon and Proto-Da.

But there was one thing that I never did: making the adjectives entirely the same as nouns and let them modify other nouns through various copulative prepositions. The inspiration comes from Hausa (Afro-Asiatic (West Chadic)), where mutum mai alheri is “a kind person”, literally “person having kindness”. So now we have the following copulative prepositions:

em “with”, for descriptive adjectives. The attributive nouns are overwhelmingly class III (substances, objects) in -ul.

Tsi em tsanul “she (is) with strength” > “she is strong”

Ksantap em sutul ne imi “a big dragon was here”

se “in, at” for a temporary state. This use was already standard with my previous version. Now, it contrasts with 

Manei se tʉsul “I’m sick”

Uloiti suni se tsanul “a mage in a surge of strength is running here”

a “of” for relational adjectives. The gloss may seem to be the same as the genitive preposition ti, however the latter means that the possessed phrase is determined.

Iʰsa-mei ne akam a suni “I see a ritual (”of mage”) knife”

contrasting with Iʰsa-mei ne akam ti suni “I see the knife of the mage”

eʰte “like”, corresponding roughly to English -ly, or to matter adjectives.

Mam akam eʰte edul “it’s a stone knife”

Ka-ʰsʉ eʰte ˀŋaki “you’re not cowardly (”like a coward”)”

Conlang: Paatara

Paatara is the ancestral language of the northern fringes of Ambetau’s most-focused-on continent, more precisely the Fjord Bay. In modern times, its descendants are few; but they once spanned all the North and had a pervasive influence on Suneric languages of the region. Morphologically, it uses ablaut to some degree (depending on stress) and affixation (suffixes, infixes, prefixes). Some daughter languages have developed it into a Semitic-style morphology.

The word

wéšʔə /ˈweʃʔə/, pl. ušéʔ /uˈʃeʔ/, n.: “wolf; rank-and-file pack wolf”

Declension

Paatara words decline for two numbers (sg., pl.), four cases (nominative, genitive, dative, locative) and determination (indefinite, definite).

Sg. (indefinite, definite):

N: wéšʔə, wénšʔə

G: wéšiʔ, wénšiʔ

D: wéšʔef, wénšʔef

L: wéširʔə, wénširʔə

Pl. (indefinite, definite):

N: ušéʔ, nušéʔ

G: ušéʔi, nušéʔi

D: ušéʔef, nušéʔef

L: ušéʔir, nušéʔir

The plural number for this word is indicated with a stress-moving pattern, causing vowels to disappear and semi-vowels to fully vocalize. The definite marker n- “the” is always within the first syllable: on the coda if it is stressed, on the onset if not.

Legacy