I have just sent out a final draft of my paper critiquing Porter’s model of prominence and grounding. I had expected to present it at SBL, but the topic was rejected. The same one was submitted to ETS, about which I have not yet heard back. Pending feedback from colleagues, I will submit the paper for publication in early June, shifting attention to Porter’s view of markedness. There was too much content for one paper.
For those of you in the PNW that might be interested in attending the discourse workshop June 7-9, there should be some good news coming out next week!
I received some good questions this week regarding the nature of the contrasts in Gal 2:11-14, and specifically about what exactly the content introduced by ̓αλλά is correcting or replacing. I have not posted much lately, so I’ll turn my response into a post. I am using Levinsohn’s basic discourse annotation scheme, where the underlined text denotes frames of reference/points of departure, and the bold indicates something placed in marked focus for emphasis sake.1 Indenting indicates subordination, either syntactic or an embedded speech that functions as the complement of a verb of speaking. Here is the text:
11 Ὅτε δὲ ἦλθεν Κηφᾶς εἰς Ἀντιόχειαν, κατὰ πρόσωπον αὐτῷ ἀντέστην,
ὅτι κατεγνωσμένος ἦν.
12 πρὸ τοῦ γὰρ ἐλθεῖν τινας ἀπὸ Ἰακώβου μετὰ τῶν ἐθνῶν συνήσθιεν·
ὅτε δὲ ἦλθον, ὑπέστελλεν καὶ ἀφώριζεν ἑαυτὸν
φοβούμενος τοὺς ἐκ περιτομῆς.
13 καὶ συνυπεκρίθησαν αὐτῷ [καὶ] οἱ λοιποὶ Ἰουδαῖοι,
ὥστε καὶ Βαρναβᾶς συναπήχθη αὐτῶν τῇ ὑποκρίσει.
14 ἀλλʼ ὅτε εἶδον ὅτι οὐκ ὀρθοποδοῦσιν πρὸς τὴν ἀλήθειαν τοῦ εὐαγγελίου, εἶπον τῷ Κηφᾷ ἔμπροσθεν πάντων·
εἰ σὺ Ἰουδαῖος ὑπάρχων ἐθνικῶς καὶ οὐχὶ Ἰουδαϊκῶς ζῇς, πῶς τὰ ἔθνη ἀναγκάζεις ἰουδαΐζειν;
This is a highly ordered narrative, with well-marked transitions. Each of the underlined frames of reference are temporal, establishing a new state of affairs for the main clause that follows. Peter’s arrival in Antioch precipitated Paul’s confrontation of him, but it concerned events that had been going on for some unknown time in Peter’s ministry. Based on the information structure, Paul makes it clear that he did not beat around the bush, but kicked the door down, as one might expect of him. He confronts Peter κατὰ πρόσωπον, with the reason provided in the ὅτι clause, which also uses marked focus to emphasize the most salient element. Paul confronts Peter because he was clearly in the wrong. Note that he provides the outcome before disclosing exactly what it is that precipitated the confrontation. This event may have been common knowledge; but even if it was Paul goes to great lengths to make clear exactly what went wrong and why.
The events that precipitated the “strange event at Antioch,” as Dunn calls it, are essentially backfilled (not unlike flashbacks today in shows like Lost) in a series of clauses introduced by γάρ in v. 12. In terms of grounding, what follows is background information that fills in needed detail. It is essentially an embedded narrative. It does not advance Paul’s overall argument to the Galatians, but sets the stage for his next assertion. Within this embedded narrative, there are several developments. In my view, Paul’s argument resumes in v. 15 in a virtually seamless transition from what appears to be a quote at the end of v. 14. The seam is so tight that it is really hard to say conclusively. Let’s take a look at the background narrative, beginning with v. 12.
This section begins with a temporal frame “before the arrival of some of the ones from James.” We learn not only that these (most likely) Judaizers are going to show up at some point, but also that what happens at their arrival is the crux of the matter. Their arrival is what the OT poetics folks would call the “inciting incident.” There are three imperfect indicatives (indicated by italics) used to characterize the actions, ostensibly to indicate this was “standard operating procedure.” Before the Judaizers arrive, Peter is characterized as eating with the Gentiles. It seems that this kind of interaction may have been just as scandalous as Jesus’ habit of eating with “sinners and tax collectors.” I am not a social-scientific expert, but it seems reasonable to understand “eating with” as a general reference to “hanging out” with the Gentiles. Based on the verbs in 12b, it seems Peter gave up more than just dining with them. There is ample evidence from the NT that Jews frowned on interaction with Gentiles. Consider the centurion’s refusal to allow Jesus to enter his home in Matt 8:8/Luke 7:6, or Peter’s caveat in Acts 10:28 that he really shouldn’t be slumming with the Gentiles. He seems to have gotten over this issue and accepted them as co-heirs in Christ after the Jerusalem council (Acts 15), at least until the Judaizers arrived.
Once the “James Gang” hit town, suddenly everything changes. Whatever characterized Peter’s behavior before they arrived, he is now characterized (using imperfect indicatives) as withdrawing and separating himself, the very thing that the Pharisees and the centurion expected Jesus should do as a rabbi and devout Jew. WWJD? Not what Peter did. Why did Peter do this? Fear, indicated plainly by the participial clause that elaborates on the main actions of the clause. Note also that the James Gang are recharacterized as “the circumcision,” further confirming that the Jew/Gentile distinction is the crux of the matter.
Recall that Peter learned clearly in Acts 10 that there is no longer a distinction in God’s view between Jew and Gentile. Peter publicly affirms this lesson in Acts 15:9. Remember also that Cornelius and his family were the only ones other than the Apostles who received the Holy Spirit without a laying on of hands. Up to that point, new believers received the Spirit through a formal process, not a general outpouring. We must not overlook this. I expect God knew what He was doing, knew that the Jews would have a fair amount of heartburn accepting that the Gentiles were really equal partners in His plan of salvation. He reserved the “apostle only” privilege for Gentiles first before extending it to all believers. Pretty cool stuff, Maynard. Alas, I digress…
Ah yes, it gets worse. Because of Peter’s influence as a leader, his decision to “cease and desist” encouraged others to follow his lead. We get this really nice hapax legomena συνυπεκρίθησαν to characterize what the “remaining Jews” did (not the “other Jews” or simply “Jews”), possible strengthened by adverbial καί to thematically “add” these Jews to Peter and his behavior. The hypocrisy they join in can only be understood as the separating and standing aloof that Peter is characterized by, otherwise there is no need for prefixing συν- to the verb.
But wait, there’s more. It goes from bad to even worse. Notwithstanding Paul’s disagreement with Barnabas over John Mark in Acts 15:39, it seems that if anyone should have turned the tide or remained above the fray in Paul’s estimation, it was Barnabas. I understand ὥστε in 13b to introduce a result, and there is no textual problem with the adverbial καί used here to thematically connect Barnabas to at least the “remaining Jews” if not also to Peter. Pay attention to how Paul chooses to characterize things: Barnabas was lead astray (passive, perhaps absolving him a bit) by them, either in their hypocrisy or by their hypocrisy. Not sure it matters much whether “hypocrisy” was the destination or the means. The bottom line is that Peter’s decision to change his behavior was wrong, based on its hypocrisy. He clearly knew better, but bowed to the peer pressure of the Jews.
We finally come to ἀλλά in v. 14, which Levinsohn, Brannan and I understand to introduce something the corrects or replaces some proposition from the preceding context. The question is, what is it? From my view, the proposition that is corrected is v. 12, essentially hanging out with the Gentiles, then deciding it was wrong when distinguished guests arrived. One could argue that v. 13 should be included in the “proposition to be corrected,” but I view it as being an ancillary result of the core issue with Peter. Had he not withdrawn, there is a good chance the others (EVEN Barnabas!) would not have withdrawn either.
Paul does a great job of “spinning” things to advance his argument. Look at what “he sees” when he arrives. He does not say that Peter and the others were properly observing Jewish custom of not associating with unclean Gentiles; nor that he exercises sound judgment by “being all things to all people” when the James Gang arrive. Quite the contrary. He saw ὅτι οὐκ ὀρθοποδοῦσιν πρὸς τὴν ἀλήθειαν τοῦ εὐαγγελίου. What exactly does he mean by the “truth of the gospel?” The very same issue that led to the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15: what is the status of believing Gentiles?
Even though Paul has disparagingly characterized the behavior of Peter and the others, he had not directly addressed it. There is a marked contrast here, one that would have been present even without ἀλλά. The use here makes the contrast more explicit, constraining the reader to pay close attention to it. Paul’s correction to what precedes is his speech to Peter in front of God and everybody. Bad day to be Peter.
Verse 14b is the janus verse that connect the story to the issues that Paul is addressing in the Galatian church. It’s one thing for Jews to choose to continue traditional observances after following Christ, it is quite another to require the Gentiles to do the same (i.e. the Jerusalem council, Acts 15). And worse than both is to walk in freedom from tradition one day, and then to revert and require others to do what you formerly had been unwilling (and unable fully) to do. If the Jews couldn’t keep the law, how could it be placed on others, especially after some Jews had already shed the burden?
If there really is no longer any distinction between Jew and Gentile, then all the believers should live like it. And not just some of the time, but ALL of the time, regardless of who stops by to visit.
- See the glossary of terms for a basic overview, or my paper on the Parable of the Sower for more specifics on information structure. [↩]
Peter Gentry of SBTS has been teaching through Discourse Grammar of the GNT this semester as part of his advanced Greek grammar course. At one point we ended up discussing my series of posts critiquing Porter’s model of verbal aspect, as it coincided with Peter’s lectures on the matter. I first met Peter at SBL in 2005 when I presenting my very first academic papers. Based on our shared interests, he has ended up attending most of the papers I have given since then, though I expect he would have been there whether I presented or not (as would I).
In comparing notes about aspect, Peter’s interests are very complementary to mine in that he has focused more on the historical and morphological issues surrounding the debate, in contrast to my focus on the theoretical framework Porter uses. Peter has mastered a whole corpus of the literature that I have yet to begin reading. He was kind enough to offer his class handout from these lectures on aspect for posting on the blog. I have deferred putting it up so far as there was a link I had intended to make about aspect and markedness. Since I have not even begun this second series, I decided to go ahead, post the handout, and make the connection when I get there.
In the meantime, my one quibble is that Peter conceives of the stative vs. non-stative decision as the first one made by a user in selecting an aspect, in contrast to the perfective vs. non-perfective view held by many. The point I wanted to make was that Peter is in good company, as Bernard Comrie shares the same view of Greek.1 While I am not yet convinced their view is best, I know better than to dismiss the dudes (and dudettes!) from the Max Planck Institute. At any rate, read and benefit from his analysis.
Thanks Peter!
Peter Gentry’s Handout on Verbal Aspect
- BernardComrie, Aspect: An Introduction to the Study of Verbal Aspect and Related Problems (Cambridge Textbooks in Linguistics. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 127, see also pp. 21 and 121. [↩]
I was reminded today about an area that I used to think about quite a bit: textual criticism. My main interest is in seeing how various readings might impact the discourse, i.e. “What if it read like this?” The discussion that spurred this post was about Galatians, so I did some digging around in the SESB NA 27 text to find an interesting example. I landed on Gal 3:7. It is a fairly complex context, but a great illustration of how discourse considerations can inform text-critical judgments. If nothing else, it provides a minimal pair to illustrate the difference of stating it one way versus another concocting unnatural examples. Here is the Nestle-Aland text:
5 ὁ οὖν ἐπιχορηγῶν ὑμῖν τὸ πνεῦμα καὶ ἐνεργῶν δυνάμεις ἐν ὑμῖν, ἐξ ἔργων νόμου ἢ ἐξ ἀκοῆς πίστεως; 6 Καθὼς Ἀβραὰμ ἐπίστευσεν τῷ θεῷ, καὶ ἐλογίσθη αὐτῷ εἰς δικαιοσύνην· 7 γινώσκετε ἄρα ὅτι οἱ ἐκ πίστεως, οὗτοι υἱοί εἰσιν Ἀβραάμ.
Verse 5 asks a rhetorical question in the form of a verbless clause. The topic of the clause is a thematically-loaded reference to God which characterizes Him in a particular way based on Paul’s rhetorical purposes in the context. He is referred to as “the”One who gives you the Spirit and works miracles.” This effectively makes God the agent, it is He who does these things and not the believer. The key question concerns the basis for these things being done, whether it is by works of the Law or by hearing by faith? The answer is withheld until the end of verse 7, giving the reader some time to ponder it.
Verse 6 is the beginning of a complex clause, as analyzed in the in the LDGNT:
Here is how I break it down. The καθώς clause of verse 6 establishes a comparative frame of reference for the main clause that follows in v. 7. It is fronted w.r.t. the main clause not because it is the most important part, but to establish a basis of comparison for something that follows: “Even as/just as Abraham believed God and it was credited to him as righteousness…” So just as Abraham’s believing and crediting happened,1 something else happened. This something else provides the answer to the rhetorical question of v. 5.
Verse 7 begins with what I have referred to as a “meta-comment”, or what is traditionally called a “disclosure formula.” No matter the name, γινώσκετε in this context serves to attract attention to the clause that follows. This is accomplished in the first place by not being semantically required in the context. The call to “know” something is rhetorical, and the verb could be excluded from the context without significantly harming the proposition: “The ones believing are the sons of Abraham.” Second, it draws attention to what follows by delaying the introduction of the main clause that follows, introduced by ὅτι. The meta-comment is not the only delay tactic used to build up to the climactic answer.
The proposition following the meta-comment in v. 7 contains a left-dislocation [LD], otherwise known as a pendens construction, hanging nominative, and a few other things. What all of these terms refer to is the reference to something at the beginning of (technically outside of) the clause that is reiterated again within the clause, typically using a pronoun. I claim elsewhere that there are two primary motivations for using this construction. The first is to introduce a complex entity (e.g. a hypothetical person or a proposition). This can be illustrated from Mt 12:32, where two complex hypothetical entities are introduced and juxtaposed:
ὃς ἐὰν is commonly used to introduce some hypothetical figure. If the entity is too complex to be introduced as the subject, using a left-dislocation streamlines the introduction by avoiding the use of a second “There once was an X, and X did Y.” Once it is introduced, a simple pronoun can reiterate it in the main clause.
A second motivation for using this construction is rhetorical in nature. Introducing something and reiterating it adds prominence to the entity or proposition, especially when the reiteration is also placed in a position of prominence. This prominence motivation is particularly evident when the entity introduced is not too complex to have been introduces without a dislocation. Consider the case of Mt 5:19, where the first clause introduces a complex entity using a simple topical frame of reference, whereas the second clause uses a dislocation.
Once the first entity has been introduced, the positive counterpart should be even easier to process, meaning there is no need for the dislocation. The use in 19b is rhetorically motivated, giving the reader pause to think about “the one who would do and teach” before reading what is asserted about them: They will be called greatest in the kingdom of heaven. The pronoun is able to capture the whole concept or proposition in a single word.
Now we have the context needed to consider Gal 3:7. Note that the entity introduced is not very complex compared to the other examples we have looked at. A simple topical frame of reference would have sufficed, as with the introduction of Abraham in 3:6. This implies that the dislocation plays a rhetorical role, not a semantic-processing one. Here is where the text-critical issue arises. Here are the two readings. The underlining marks a frame of reference, the bolding indicates something placed in marked focus for emphasis sake.
NA27: γινώσκετε ἄρα ὅτι οἱ ἐκ πίστεως, οὗτοι υἱοί εἰσιν Ἀβραάμ.
Alternate: γινώσκετε ἄρα ὅτι οἱ ἐκ πίστεως, οὗτοι εἰσιν υἱοί Ἀβραάμ.
One of the challenges of information structure is accounting for all of the data. One cannot selectively apply the principles. If I were to claim that οὗτοι in NA27 is fronted for emphasis, then it leaves the placement of υἱοί before the verb unexplained. It is either fulfilling some pragmatic function (e.g. marked focus or a topical frame) or it should follow the verb as in the alternate reading. About the only way to understand the NA27 reading is how I analyzed it in the LDGNT. If the element that is fronted is complex, sometimes only the most salient element will be fronted. This appears to be the case with υἱοί being separated from Ἀβραάμ. Mike Aubrey discussed this is a series of posts on Devine and Stephen’s book Discontinuous Syntax: Hyperbaton in Greek. The NP υἱοί Ἀβραάμ is not particularly complex, leading one to think that the context presupposes that there there is some relation to Abraham, it is just a matter of what kind. Fronting the most salient element of the NP highlights that it is as sons.
Aside from the little matter of the earlier and harder reading criteria, the alternate reading provides a more satisfactory option based on the discourse context. Recall from 3:5 the rhetorical question regarding the basis for God’s activity, whether it was from works of the Law or from hearing by faith. Abraham is then held up as a model of faith, with his belief being the basis of the righteousness being credited to him. In the alternate reading, prominence is not assigned to the relationship the ones believing have to Abraham. Instead emphasis is placed on who is related to Abraham as his sons. It is those who believe by faith as opposed to some other group. Recall that the question of v. 5 focused on whether works of the Law or hearing by faith was the key. The alternate reading provides a much tighter connection to this question. One’s relationship to Abraham has not been an issue in the context, nor is it in the following context. Instead the focus is on belief as opposed to works.
So does this resolve the text-critical issue? Hardly. If anything, it provides more support for the NA27 reading since it is the dis-preferred reading, the one more likely to have been corrected by a later hand (as appears to be the case from Sinaiticus). However it illustrates what is at stake in such decisions. It is not just a matter of one little word inconsequentially being swapped with another. Such changes can radically alter our understanding of where Paul was pounding the pulpit.
- on the basis of faith, it just so happens. [↩]
I did a blog post for Logos Bible Software, my employer, illustrating how to use one of the widgets in Logos 4 to sort through morphological data. This lead to a B-Greek exchange beginning here. This reminded me of some “posts” that Stephen Levinsohn did for his church’s newsletter. Although he is a really smart guy, he has a winsome way of simplifying things to make them understandable.
Levinsohn’s basic premise is that the conjunction γάρ always serves a single function in discourse: to signal that what follows strengthens or supports what precedes. It does not advance the story or argument, but instead introduces offline, supporting information. See p. 37 of the Discourse Grammar for more detail and citations for further reading.
The noteworthy tidbit that Levinsohn uses to unify his series is the observation that the most popular memory verses from the NT begin with γάρ, usually translated “for.” These verses do not advance the argument, but support it. Since the γάρ statements are not the main point but support, Levinsohn asks the reader whether they can identify what is the main point. In most cases, it is pretty difficult without really reading. I had not realized how focused we tend to be on the support material, without paying as close attention to the writer’s main argument. Here is the first article.
This is the final post in a series considering Porter’s model of “grounding” (e.g. background, foreground) to describe how the Greek tense-forms convey prominence. There is one last issue I want to consider. Even though “it is possible to posit a third plane of exposition,”1 is it needed or even helpful? According to Stephen Wallace’s and Paul Hopper’s studies of aspect and grounding in the world’s languages, the binary opposition of foreground and background seemed to have worked just fine. I have not found anyone other than Porter claim the need for another plane of discourse.2 He infers that Wallace has left open the door for further subdivision, yet the subdivision to which Wallace refers in the article is that of Grimes: “In actual fact, Grimes’ (51-70) use of the term ‘background’ is more restricted than that of the other authors. For Grimes, ‘background’ is only one sort of non-primary information in discourse, the others being ‘setting,’ ‘evaluations,’ and ‘collateral.’”3 While Wallace readily admits that there are limitations to how strict a subdivision one might make–i.e. that background and foreground may be more like a continuum–there is no reference to the need for another plane of discourse. The limitations are not based on the binary nature of the system, but upon the complexity of the relationship between tense, aspect and mood in language on the one hand, and the impact of genre-specific factors on the other hand. These are the two factors from Porter’s linguistic literature that he fails to acknowledge. Wallace concludes, “Consequently, one should not expect simple all-or-none compartmentalization, but prepare to weigh numerous contributing influences.”4
So is there a need for positing a third plane of discourse? Based on the broader linguistic literature, the answer would be “no”. It seems that no other language has necessitated creation of a Frontground, that the binary opposition of Hopper has proven sufficient for the world’s languages. I was once told that if you claim that some language feature is completely unique to a certain language–that it has no counterpart elsewhere–then you are most likely wrong. Yet Porter’s statements would lead you to think otherwise.
Consider the opening sentence describing “planes of discourse” from his Idioms of the Greek New Testament: “Recent work by linguists in the analysis of discourse differentiates the planes of discourse into three (see Chapter 21): background, foreground and frontground.”5 I would encourage you to do some web searches on collocations like “background/frontground,” “frontground/verbal aspect”, or “frontground/linguistics.” I did so using Google Scholar, and failed to find use of the term within linguistics except by those applying Porter’s model within NT studies, mostly his students. I did find “frontground” used in computational applications, but as a synonym for “foreground” to form a more contrastive antonym to “background.” Even here the binary opposition is retained. If Porter or someone else could cite some of the “recent work by linguists” that is not a circular citation of those applying his model, it would greatly bolster his argument.
In his most recent article “Prominence: an overview,” Porter follows his introduction to Wallace’s model of background and foreground by saying: “For Greek, a third category of frontground is also useful to introduce, as a means of introducing a more finely gradated cline of semantic grounding.” 6
In a footnote he states, “Note that the Greek verbal system is not bi-partite but rather tri-partite, with aorist, present and perfect tense-forms, one of the reasons for such a distinction.”7 There are many other languages that manifest three or more different tenses or aspects, yet the binary opposition has been successfully applied. Why? Because prominence derives from the usage in a context. Each genre tends to have a primary verb form that advances the plot or argument of the discourse. The other verb forms play off of this main one, creating an opposition: foreground and background. It either advances the discourse or it does not. It is not a matter of how many verb forms exist in the language, but what the given form does in a given context.
A few sentences later he cites Helen Dry’s work on “planes of discourse” as ostensive support for his model. However the “planes” that she is discussing are events, episodes, characters and linguistic constructions.8 What Dry is describing is essentially a taxonomy of discourse, descending from the discourse as a whole, to paragraph or groups of paragraphs (e.g. events and episodes), to what sounds like individual components within a given clause (e.g. characters and linguistic constructions, whatever the latter is). This is the only mention of “planes of discourse” in the whole article.
I ask again, is there really any merit for positing a third plane of discourse, the frontground? To be sure, Porter’s purpose in building a tri-partite prominence-based model of aspect requires it. But I have shown that:
- His claim that each verbal aspect always communicates a certain level of prominence–regardless of genre–lacks any support from the linguistic literature he cites. It may be valid, but it will require Porter to either provide other linguistic literature to support his claim, or else argumentation to justify such a drastic departure from the linguistic literature. See posts one, two and three.
- His claim that a third plane of discourse has proven helpful to linguists or is even needed is overstated. I could not find any evidence in the linguistic literature to support the notion that a tripartite model of grounding is being used by anyone other than those applying Porter’s model in NT studies. To claim that this usage is evidence in support would be patently circular. It seems that the all the worlds languages can be adequately described within the binary opposition of background and foreground. The one exception, Porter claims, is Koine Greek.
Remember the warning mentioned earlier: “If you claim that some language feature is completely unique to a certain language, that it has no counterpart elsewhere, then you are most likely wrong.” If you have questions about the claims that I am making, I would strongly encourage you to read the primary literature for yourself. If there are issues you think I have misread or misrepresented, I would appreciate hearing about it.
- Porter, Verbal Aspect, 92-93. [↩]
- The notable exceptions are those following in Porter’s footsteps, applying his model to Greek. I have found no evidence in the linguistic literature to indicate that others are using a tripartite grounding model. [↩]
- Wallace continues, “I am here using the term ‘background’ to subsume all these four sorts. Longacre and Levinsohn, and Longacre (1979, MS), distinguish ‘backbone’ (= my ‘foreground’) from ‘background.’” (Wallace, “Figure and Ground,” 219, note 5, bolding mine. [↩]
- Ibid., 216. [↩]
- Stanley E. Porter, Idioms of the Greek New Testament (Sheffield: JSOT, 1999), 23. [↩]
- Stanley E. Porter, “Prominence: An Overview,” pp. 45-74 in The Linguist as Pedagogue, edited by Stanley E Porter and Matthew Brook O’Donnell (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press Ltd, 2009), 54. [↩]
- Ibid. [↩]
- Helen A. Dry, “Foregrounding: An Assessment.” Pp. 435-50 in Language in Context: Essays for Robert E. Longacre, edited by Shin Ja J Hwang and William R Merrifield (Dallas: Summer Institute of Linguistics, 1992), 441. [↩]
I am approaching the last post on a series critiquing Stan Porter’s theoretical framework for describing verbal aspect. The first post presented overlooked research from the core literature he cites on just how complex and interwoven tense and aspect are. Tense, aspect and mood are like Siamese triplets, not neatly divisible like “number” or “person,” especially in Greek. The next two posts (here and here) focused on Porter’s claims that each aspect plays a certain prominence role (e.g. imperfective aspect always portrays the foreground of the discourse). These claims disregard genre, meaning that the imperfective foregrounds the action not just in narrative, but globally in all genres, according to Porter. This claim lacks any merit based on the literature he cites. Linguists recognize that genre affects grounding and prominence, leaving Porter’s claim of global prominence suspect. Finally, I noted that Porter adopts a secondary set of terms in an apparent attempt to address this criticism about genre. It is essentially a work around, and fails to resolve the fundamental contradiction between his genre-blind claims on the one hand, and the the genre-specific claims of the literature he cites.
So far in this series you may have noticed that I remained silent about the matter of “frontground” in Porter’s model. In my view, it represents one of the most significant assertions that Porter makes in Verbal Aspect, that Koine Greek manifests a third level of grounding in addition to background and foreground. I describe it as significant both because of its critical role in his overall model of prominence, and because of its divergence from the broader linguistic literature on grounding. To provide some context, it is important to understand how and why Porter justifies the need for a third level of grounding. Despite its significance to his model, Porter devotes only a few pages to developing the idea. I will quote the entire section in order to provide the proper context for his statements before going back and analyzing its components. It contains a number of parenthetical statements, making the text difficult to read. I have restructured it so that the longer parentheticals are now footnotes, but it is quoted in its entirety. I have bolded key statements for easier reference. He states:
“Drawing upon the insights of “perceptual psychology,” Wallace (“Figure” [quotation 201] cf. 213, where he notes the connection with Gestalt psychology) and Hopper (“Aspect,” esp. 213-16) attempt to reconstruct traditional understanding of aspect (Wallace also treats Mood and tense)1 utilizing studies of discourse analysis that divide the planes of discourse into two: “foreground and background.” As Hopper says: “It is evidently a universal of narrative discourse that in any extended text an overt distinction is made between the language of the actual story line and the language of supportive material which does not itself narrate the main events.”2 Thus in Greek the Aorist is the background tense which carries the discourse and the Present/Imperfect is the figure or foreground tense.3 It is noteworthy that in Greek often the basic narrative is laid down by the 3d Person Aorist, a common trait of the background tense, while the Imperfect/Present introduces significant characters or makes appropriate climactic references to concrete situations, typical of the foreground tense. Also, when an extended noteworthy description is given, the foreground tense is used.4 Wallace only indirectly refers to other possible tense categories,5 but it is possible to posit a third plane of exposition, called here frontground. Rather than seeing the Perfect as giving further background information, it seems to provide a narrower range of the characteristic features (214) of the figure tense: it is discrete, well-defined and contoured, apparently much more so than the Present/Imperfect and certainly the Aorist tenses. Wallace’s hypothesis, which seems helpful for discussion of Greek tenses, is “that linguistic categories … function to differentiate linguistic figure from linguistic ground: the speaker uses such categories to structure an utterance … into more or less salient portions, and the listener uses such categories as clues to interpreting the speaker’s verbal picture” (214).6
There are a host of issues here that need to be addressed, so I will be selective. Let’s begin with the issue of terminology. Recall that Porter inverts the meaning of background and foreground, compared to the characteristic use by the linguists whom he cites like Wallace and Hopper. Porter uses “background” to refer to the “mainline” or “figure” of the discourse, whereas he uses “foreground” to refer to what most others call the “offline” or “ground” of the discourse.7 Note that Porter bases what is essentially a global prominence claim about the grounding value of perfective and imperfective aspects on Hopper’s clearly limited observation about narrative proper. He does not restrict it to narrative as Hopper does. Porter adds the parenthetical comment that while Hopper only addresses narrative, “Wallace applies this model to non-narrative discourse as well.”8 Indeed he does, but Porter fails to mention that Wallace argues for a different foreground tense in non-narrative: the present. This seems like an important detail, already covered beginning here.
Recall also that the prominence value of a given aspect varies from genre to genre (contra Porter), as noted here. In Wallace’s discussion of narrative proper, he asserts that the Perfect tense-form falls into the “background/offline” category, not the “foreground” occupied by the aorist in Greek.9 When Porter argues that the Stative aspect has been wrongly classified, note that he is using Wallace and Hopper’s terminology of “background,” meaning that which is offline and does not advance the discourse: “Rather than seeing the Perfect as giving further background information, it seems to provide a narrower range of the characteristic features (214) of the figure tense: it is discrete, well-defined and contoured, apparently much more so than the Present/Imperfect and certainly the Aorist tenses.”10 But Porter fails to point out or discuss the counter-evidence provided bythe very same table in Wallace’s article: that nonperfective, noneventive, stative verbs are claimed to be background/offline.
Fundamentally, Porter is arguing that the Stative aspect is more like the Imperfective than the Perfective, so to that extent he is in agreement with the linguistic literature on grounding. This literature consistently views the non-perfective aspects as “background/offline in narrative, whereas things are different in non-narrative. Most of the literature that Porter cites (including most of Wallace) is focused on narrative only. At the very least it should have been clear to him that claiming the Stative aspect is the most prominent in narrative proper lacks any support whatsoever from the literature he cites. Yet if he understood this opposition, he failed to provide any argumentation substantiating or defending his rationale for making such a drastic break with conventional linguistic wisdom. It makes no sense that one of his most significant claims–the existence of a frontground level–receives only a few sentences of discussion. Based on the absence of literature to corroborate his claim, and the absence of any argumentation to justify its inclusion, Porter’s claims about “frontground” in Greek are baseless and without merit.
Porter has three options, as I see it. First, produce peer-reviewed evidence that other linguists (besides those applying his model) are using a comparable framework to make comparable claims about the prominence of verbal aspect. Second, produce a coherent theoretical argument to justify the inclusion of frontground that can be understood as a logical extension anticipated by the existing literature. Finally, to abandon his tripartite model in favor of one more consistent with the overwhelming majority of linguistic literature on grounding and aspect, one that respects the impact that changes in genre have on prominence.
Return to On Porter, Prominence and Aspect
- Footnote in original: It is not necessary here to make a thorough critique of Wallace to appreciate his contribution. He finds himself caught in a dilemma between seeing the tenses as confused on temporal reference and not wanting to deny that “time is an important semantic property of the categories of tense” (203). Also, his attempt at a universal grammar leads him to make mistakes in his treatment of and application to individual languages (e.g. 204, 208, 215). [↩]
- “Aspect,” 213; whereas Hopper focuses on narrative, Wallace applies this model to non-narrative discourse as well [↩]
- see e.g. Kuhner/Gerth, 1.157; Gildersleeve, 91; Schwyzer, 2.275; contra Wallace and Hopper [↩]
- See Wallace, “Figure,” 212, cf. 214; and Hopper, “Aspect,” 216, for categorization of linguistic features. Rijksbaron [12-13] and Weinrich [Tempus, 288-93; "Tense"] follow Wallace and Hopper. [↩]
- 209, 210; on 216, he notes the problem of tense in his system [↩]
- Porter, Verbal Aspect, 92-93. [↩]
- This inversion is seen in his statement above: “It is noteworthy that in Greek often the basic narrative is laid down by the 3d Person Aorist, a common trait of the background tense, while the Imperfect/Present introduces significant characters or makes appropriate climactic references to concrete situations, typical of the foreground tense.” (Ibid., 92.) [↩]
- Porter, Verbal Aspect, 92. [↩]
- Wallace, “Figure and Ground,” 208-9. [↩]
- Porter, Verbal Aspect, 92. Bolding mine. [↩]
I have heard this idea pitched before, I even lectured on it in introductory Greek in 2001 when the idea first arose. It seems to have found new life though. Word has it that a new conjunction has been found that may impact the reading of Matt 2:11. The word is σαντα, and is understood to function as a subordinating conjunction not unlike οτι. The problem is that it is virtually unattested in the ancient Greek corpus, and is more likely borrowed from Latin, at least based on the evidence from several 11th century manuscripts particularly 474.
I did some checking at SBL and it sounds as though Winged Bull Press may have a forthcoming volume that treats the issue, due in early April. Based on the evidence I have seen so far, the case is not very compelling. For those of you who really want to dig into this, I would suggest contacting CSNTM about the matter, they are in a better position than I am to comment.
So as you make your way through the Christmas festivities, keep in mind what it is all about: the sending of a Savior. And no matter what they say, do not believe in the σαντα clause. It’s a myth.
If you have any other information about this issue, please post a comment.
P.S. This is a repost from Dec. 24, 2009.
Last week on B-Greek there was an important discussion regarding approaches to mastering Greek. On the one hand, you what came to be known as the “old school” traditional approach of reading widely and consulting the classic grammars on questions. The other option was “linguistics,” whatever that meant, and was largely understood as opposite or against the traditional approach. Here is the last bit of the thread from Dr. Don Wilkins before my rant:
I’m not arguing that linguistics has no value for ancient Greek, so I’m not surprised at the benefit you received from Prof. Schmidt’s use of Chomsky. My original suggestion was just that the article originally cited could be viewed as an affirmation of the proposition that expertise gained by personally reading the larger corpus of Greek cannot be duplicated by other means, including linguistics as a specialty or profession (without reading the corpus). But there should be mutual respect for the expertise on both sides. It seems to me that scholars widely-read in ancient Greek are much more ready to accommodate the linguists than the reverse, but that may be just my own bias speaking. In any case I’ve said enough; time to go back to lurking.
Don Wilkins
Here is my reply, not so much to Don’s point, but to the premise that traditional understandings of grammar and linguistics are at odds with each other. If you wanted to hear my manifesto, this would probably be pretty close, so I re-post it here for those who have not yet subscribed to B-Greek.
In my view, the primary benefits potentially provided by linguistics are (hopefully) a sound theoretical framework for thinking about language, and some expectation of how this type of language tends to operate. I have found Levinsohn’s cross-linguistic model helpful in both regards. Linguistics will not solve world hunger or the current budget crisis, but it should steer me clear of making wild assertions.
In contrast, I would say that the traditional method places the burden on the teacher or reader to develop the framework, and on the reader to note the patterns in order to understand how the language operates. If you read too small a corpus, your understanding of patterns will likely be skewed. Those who have read for years probably have made corrections and updates along the way, sharpening their understanding.
Regarding linguists, there are some pretty kooky ideas that have been pitched under the banner of linguistics. Not everything linguistic is right. I am blogging through some of these issues at the moment.
At then end of the day, all of us are studying the same language. I have a benchmark for the linguistic description I do. The description I provide should resonate with the person like Carl who has internalized the language. I freely admit that I am still in process in this regard, lots more reading (WIDE reading) to do. It may take one or the other of us tweaking something, but if we are describing the same thing we should arrive at similar results. This also entails bridging the terminology gap, ensuring we are not talking past one another with goobledy gook. Some of Carl’s terms are just as incomprehensible to me as mine are to him, it is a two way street demanding mutual respect.
Let’s go back to my opening contrast between linguists and traditional grammar. My rally cry is not “Every one a linguist!” Having said that, I think providing a more simple, cross-linguistically informed framework to Greek students when they are still wet behind the ears would go a long way toward setting them up for success in their (hopefully lifelong pursuit of) reading Greek. If it is done right, it should even improve their reading and writing of English!
There is currently a pretty big divide between the two at the moment, one that will not quickly abate. We really are after the same thing: a better understanding of what the writers intended to communicate. My research goal is to see the two brought more closely together, which will be an advantage for both. A good cross-linguistic understanding of language should not only add insight to one’s native language, but also to the acquiring and integration of a second or third. On the other hand, the linguists would benefit from the widely-read “old schoolers” when they tell them a theory is half baked. If we really are looking at the same thing, such a reaction should be taken as an indication that more work and thought is needed. Those who are widely read have internalized all that data, and can recognize a bad description when they see one EVEN IF they cannot articulate what the better alternative should be. Thus each has an important role in advancing our understanding of Greek, IMO.
I realize this is pretty idealistic, but it is my vision and goal nonetheless.
In my view, the primary benefits potentially provided by linguistics are (hopefully) a sound theoretical framework for thinking about language, and some expectation of how this type of language tends to operate. I have found Levinsohn's cross-linguistic model helpful in both regards. Linguistics will not solve world hunger or the current budget crisis, but it should steer me clear of making wild assertions. In contrast, I would say that the traditional method places the burden on the teacher or reader to develop the framework, and on the reader to note the patterns in order to understand how the language operates. If you read too small a corpus, your understanding of patterns will likely be skewed. Those who have read for years probably have made corrections and updates along the way, sharpening their understanding. Regarding linguists, there are some pretty kooky ideas that have been pitched under the banner of linguistics. Not everything linguistic is right. I am blogging through some of these issues at the moment. At then end of the day, all of us are studying the same language. I have a benchmark for the linguistic description I do. The description I provide should resonate with the person like Carl who has internalized the language. I freely admit that I am still in process in this regard, lots more reading (WIDE reading) to do. It may take one or the other of us tweaking something, but if we are describing the same thing we should arrive at similar results. This also entails bridging the terminology gap, ensuring we are not talking past one another with goobledy gook. Some of Carl's terms are just as incomprehensible to me as mine are to him, it is a two way street demanding mutual respect. Let's go back to my opening contrast between linguists and traditional grammar. My rally cry is not "Every one a linguist!" Having said that, I think providing a more simple, cross-linguistically informed framework to Greek students when they are still wet behind the ears would go a long way toward setting them up for success in their (hopefully lifelong pursuit of) reading Greek. If it is done right, it should even improve their reading and writing of English! There is currently a pretty big divide between the two at the moment, one that will not quickly abate. We really are after the same thing: a better understanding of what the writers intended to communicate. My research goal is to see the two brought more closely together, which will be an advantage for both. A good cross-linguistic understanding of language should not only add insight to one's native language, but also to the acquiring and integration of a second or third. On the other hand, the linguists would benefit from the widely-read "old schoolers" when they tell them a theory is half baked. If we really are looking at the same thing, such a reaction should be taken as an indication that more work and thought is needed. Those who are widely read have internalized all that data, and can recognize a bad description when they see one EVEN IF they cannot articulate what the better alternative should be. Thus each has an important role in advancing our understanding of Greek, IMO. I realize this is pretty idealistic, but it is my vision and goal nonetheless. In my view, the primary benefits potentially provided by linguistics are (hopefully) a sound theoretical framework for thinking about language, and some expectation of how this type of language tends to operate. I have found Levinsohn's cross-linguistic model helpful in both regards. Linguistics will not solve world hunger or the current budget crisis, but it should steer me clear of making wild assertions. In contrast, I would say that the traditional method places the burden on the teacher or reader to develop the framework, and on the reader to note the patterns in order to understand how the language operates. If you read too small a corpus, your understanding of patterns will likely be skewed. Those who have read for years probably have made corrections and updates along the way, sharpening their understanding. Regarding linguists, there are some pretty kooky ideas that have been pitched under the banner of linguistics. Not everything linguistic is right. I am blogging through some of these issues at the moment. At then end of the day, all of us are studying the same language. I have a benchmark for the linguistic description I do. The description I provide should resonate with the person like Carl who has internalized the language. I freely admit that I am still in process in this regard, lots more reading (WIDE reading) to do. It may take one or the other of us tweaking something, but if we are describing the same thing we should arrive at similar results. This also entails bridging the terminology gap, ensuring we are not talking past one another with goobledy gook. Some of Carl's terms are just as incomprehensible to me as mine are to him, it is a two way street demanding mutual respect. Let's go back to my opening contrast between linguists and traditional grammar. My rally cry is not "Every one a linguist!" Having said that, I think providing a more simple, cross-linguistically informed framework to Greek students when they are still wet behind the ears would go a long way toward setting them up for success in their (hopefully lifelong pursuit of) reading Greek. If it is done right, it should even improve their reading and writing of English! There is currently a pretty big divide between the two at the moment, one that will not quickly abate. We really are after the same thing: a better understanding of what the writers intended to communicate. My research goal is to see the two brought more closely together, which will be an advantage for both. A good cross-linguistic understanding of language should not only add insight to one's native language, but also to the acquiring and integration of a second or third. On the other hand, the linguists would benefit from the widely-read "old schoolers" when they tell them a theory is half baked. If we really are looking at the same thing, such a reaction should be taken as an indication that more work and thought is needed. Those who are widely read have internalized all that data, and can recognize a bad description when they see one EVEN IF they cannot articulate what the better alternative should be. Thus each has an important role in advancing our understanding of Greek, IMO. I realize this is pretty idealistic, but it is my vision and goal nonetheless.
Why read footnotes? Because you will often find very noteworthy tidbits there that can be worth the entire price of admission. I found just such a one hiding in Randall Buth’s article “Hebrew Poetic Tenses and the Magnificat.” I would encourage you to read this especially if you only know Greek. Pay close attention to his description of the interplay among the forms, the way they operate interdependently to form the system. I wish I had heard this in class first year.
‘Tense’ is used loosely in this paper, when applied to Semitic verbs, to specify a verb form, which refers semantically to a temporal-aspectual composite. A brief listing of biblical Hebrew basic verb-forms and common functions may help explain this composite and serve as a review for those unacquainted with some developments in Hebrew grammar or linguistics of the last 20 years. Hebrew has four (or five) basic verb tenses, suffix (qatál), prefix (yiqtól), vav hahipuk prefix (vayyiqtol), vav hahipuk suffix (veqataltí) and a participle (qotél). These terms do not refer exclusively to temporal or aspectual or modal distinctions. Instead, these five forms (morphological-syntactical classes) are used in various syntactic arrangements to make semantic distinctions of time, aspect and mood in the referential world. They also function within narrative and other genres to help mark discourse parameters and structures. (This last function is not made explicit in most published studies of Hebrew but it is obvious to those acquainted with recent developments in linguistics and discourse studies.)
Qatál is normally used for whole, completed events in the past though also for situations (including mental states) that have validity in the present. In narrative, qatál is used with Subject-Verb word order for events which do not advance the time reference of the story (e.g. in simultaneous time frames, in back reference [=pluperfect; cf. Jon. 1:5], and in boundaries of units [e.g. paragraph, episode]).
Vayyiqtol is used for the same semantic distinctions as qatál but differs pragmatically and is used for thematic, time-advancing events of a narrative. Diachronically, it is a remnant from a West-Semitic past tense *yaqtul (parallel to Akkadian iprus).
Yiqtól, the descendent of West-Semitic *yaqtulu, generally serves as a present-future tense and as a habitual aspect in the past. Rarely, it can refer to an event in the past as a single, complete whole, either as an archaic *yaqtul verb or as a ‘historic present’.
Veqatalti serves as a present-future tense and past habitual aspect in theme advancing clauses.
Qotél may be thought of as a verbal adjective, often describing a noun as the doer of certain actions (habitual). In many lexical items it may function as a present tense. This second use expanded diachronically to produce the present-future of Mishnaic-Hebrew.1
Notice how he does not say much about translation value, instead focusing on describing the role it plays in discourse. He provides flexible principles, ones that will not be specific enough for some, but ones that might actually be more useful in practice than in theory. Oh, to move in this direction in Greek!
- Pp. 240-56 in Stanley E. Porter and Craig A. Evans, vol. 44, New Testament Text and Language (The Biblical Seminar; A Sheffield Reader Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 240. [↩]
