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January 10, 2004 (12:58pm)
The Cognitive Foundations of Language
Semantic and Syntactic Categories in Universal Grammar
Peter J. Binkert
Copyright © Peter J. Binkert
First Printed in 1996.
The Langtech Corporation

3752 Root Drive
Troy, MI 48083–5189
All rights reserved, including those of translation into foreign languages. Except for the quotation
of short passages for the purposes of criticism and review, no part of this publication may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in
writing from the publisher.
Printed in Troy, Michigan by The Langtech Corporation.

PREFACE
This book is an exploration of semantic and syntactic categories — what they are, how they are
defined, how they are related, and how they interact. My primary concern is with the semantic and
syntactic specification of predicates in a lexicon, including the specification of thematic relations
like agent and goal associated with particular predicates and the specification of grammatical
relations like subject and object fulfilled by those thematic relations. The discussion involves
consideration of data from English and a wide range of other languages.
With regard to the semantic specification of predicates, I will focus on the following questions:
(1) a. What accounts for the fact that lexical items with similar meaning govern the same
thematic marker (preposition, postposition or grammatical case)? For example, in
English, why are the complements of verbs like remove (She removed the book from
the shelf) and discourage (She discouraged him from going) both introduced by the
same marker from? Why does into show up in both She inserted the key into the lock
and She forced them into reconciling? What accounts for the fact that similar classes
of lexical items exist in other languages as diverse as Japanese and Newari?
b. Why does the same thematic marker show up repeatedly in the world’s languages for
the same set of thematic relations? For example, why is the English preposition to
used to indicate the goal of motion (He flew to Paris), the recipient (He gave it to
her), and the person affected (He was mean to her)? And why are the same three
relations expressed by the preposition i in Welsh and the preposition a in Italian, by
the postposition ni in Japanese and the postposition ko in Hindi, by the allative case
in Finnish and Estonian and by the dative case in Latin, Sanskrit and Turkish?
c. How can the uses of particular markers be generalized so that the individual uses do
not have to be listed? Specifically, is there some element common to all uses of a
preposition like to in English so that the presence of that element “triggers” its
occurrence? Further, can the same common element be generalized to account for
the use of the postposition ni in Japanese, the dative case in Turkish, and
semantically related markers in other languages?
d. When a language loses a particular thematic marker over time, say, a grammatical
case, what accounts for the new marker that is used? For example, when Ancient
Greek lost the ablative case as a morphologically distinct case, why were the
functions of the Indo–European ablative taken over by the Greek genitive and not,
say, the Greek dative? How does one account for the evolution of a language like
Latin, which marks many thematic relations with specific grammatical cases, into
one like Italian, which marks those same relations with prepositions?
To account for the above facts, I will propose that thematic relations like agent and goal are not
atomic categories but bundles of semantic features. Further, I will propose that these semantic
features are defined in terms of human perceptual abilities, in particular, vision, so that there is a
direct link between the semantic structure of language and human perception. I will argue that the
proposed semantic features are universal and that they form the organizational infrastructure for the
separation of lexical items into various classes associated with specific thematic relations, as well
as various types of selectional restrictions seen in contrasts like He rowed the boat ashore and He
rowed the people ashore. Lastly, I will present a typology of predicates that reduces all predicates
to variations of one semantic schema. A summary of the answers to the above questions regarding
the semantics of predicates and thematic relations can be found at the conclusion of Chapter Two,
Page 126 ff.
In the area of syntax, this book is chiefly concerned with expressing the relationship between
different syntactic categories in natural language such as the different categories seen in examples
like He acted with courage, He acted courageously, and His actions were courageous. Specifically,
How are the verb act and the noun action related? What is the relationship between the
prepositional phrase with courage, the adverb courageously, and the adjective courageous?
With regard to the syntactic specification of predicates in a lexicon, I will focus on the following:
(2) a. Given that a predicate is associated with a particular set of thematic relations, what
accounts for the syntactic realization of those thematic relations, that is, for the
grammatical relations they can fulfill? For example, in the transference of something
from one entity to another as in They presented an award to the actress, why does
the transferred thing function as the grammatical direct object in so many languages,
and the recipient function as the grammatical indirect object?
b. How does a grammar specify the fact that the same thematic relation can fulfill
alternative grammatical functions. For example, what accounts for the alternation
between the noun phrase and prepositional phrase complements in They presented
an award to the actress and They presented the actress with an award? Why do we
have They gave an award to the actress and They gave the actress an award, but not
*They gave the actress with an award?
c. How does a grammar specify the fact that the transferred thing is often
“incorporated” into a predicate, that is, how does a grammar express the relationship
between They gave the first–place award to her and They awarded first–place to
her? How are such contrasts related to the incorporation of goals and sources in
examples like He put the money into his pocket/He pocketed the money and They
removed the king from the throne/They dethroned the king?
d. How does a grammar account for the fact that modification by means of a
prepositional phrase is often closely related to modification by means of an adverb,
e.g., He did it with amazing speed and He did it amazingly quickly? Further, what is
ii
the relationship between such structures and noun phrases with a specific case
marking in other languages, for example, the Latin ablative of manner seen in
mirabili celeritate ‘with amazing speed’ which occurs in variation with a
prepositional phrase (cum celeritate ‘with speed’) and an adverb (celeriter
‘quickly’).
My proposals for syntactic analysis parallel those for semantics. I will explore the idea that
syntactic categories like noun and verb are also not atomic categories but bundles of syntactic
features. Further, I will propose that these syntactic features are defined in terms of constraints on
human short term memory capacity which require that the phrases of all natural languages be
organized linearly and hierarchically. Thus, I will propose that there is a direct link between the
syntactic structure of language and human short term memory. I will also explore the hypothesis
that semantic considerations affect many of the choices for syntactic alternations of the type
illustrated above and most recently described in Levin 1993. I will extend Levin’s work, which
focuses primarily on noun phrase and prepositional phrase alternations, to all types of embedded
sentences including indirect statements, questions and commands, as well as gerunds, infinitives and
participles. Lastly, I will propose that all phrase structures are variations of one syntactic schema.
A summary of the answers to the above questions regarding grammatical relations and functions can
be found at the conclusion of Chapter Six, Page 453 ff.
The research reported here has been conducted in relation to a parsing project that has been under
development for the past twenty years and will be described in Chapter Five, Section 5.10.
Essentially, the project has been concerned with supplying appropriate semantic and syntactic
descriptions for arbitrary sentences typed into a parser. The discussion in this book, therefore, has
a different emphasis than that usually found in works on grammatical analysis. Basically, a parser
divides an arbitrary input string into words, looks up each word in a lexicon, and, given the semantic
and syntactic specifications associated with successive words, attempts to merge them into ever
expanding structures culminating in a fully structured expression. Thus, from an arbitrary string like
The actress cried, the words the and actress are merged into a noun phrase which is subsequently
merged with the predicate cried to form a sentence. The phrase the actress is identified as the
grammatical subject of the sentence, actress is identified as fulfilling the thematic role of agent for
the verb cry, the action is specified as occurring in the past, and so on.
Since the input to a parser is a surface string of arbitrary lexical items, an immediate question is,
How “deep” must the structural analysis be? For example, in a sentence like The actress was
awarded a prize, must a parser derive an underlying representation roughly parallel to Someone
awarded a prize to the actress? Or, can the fact that the actress is the recipient of the prize be
accounted for without such a transformational analysis? Chomsky (1981: 90 ff.) considers a similar
issue discussed in terms of two variants of a theory in which surface representations contain empty
categories. In the first variant, surface structures are derived from based–generated deep structures
by a movement rule (Move–") leaving behind a trace (the empty category). In the second, surface
structures are generated directly with empty categories in place, and the grammar contains various
rules for interpreting the empty categories. Work in grammatical analysis over the past fifty years
has often involved the exploration of these two variants (among other things of course) giving rise
iii
to different grammatical models such as Transformational Grammar (TG), Relational Grammar,
Generalized Phrase Structure Grammar, Lexical–Functional Grammar, and so on. The discussion
in this book is an exploration of a grammatical model without syntactic movement rules; therefore,
I will be concerned at many points with the potential empirical differences and consequences of
grammars with and without syntactic movement rules. Throughout the discussion, I will use the
label “MA” (Movement Approach to syntactic analysis) as a cover term to embrace a model of
language which allows syntactic movement operations as described in various works on generative
syntax including the earliest publications in TG (Chomsky 1955, 1957), the Standard Theory of TG
(Chomsky 1965), Government and Binding Theory and the Principles–and–Parameters Model
(Chomsky 1981; Culicover 1997), and the Minimalist Program (Chomsky 1995). Although I will
borrow freely from the insights of several models as diverse as Generalized Phrase Structure
Grammar and Cognitive Grammar, I will refer to a model without syntactic movement rules in the
most neutral way possible as simply “NMA” (Non–Movement Approach to syntactic analysis).
The NMA described here is exploratory. I will attempt to account for a broad range of syntactic
phenomena without movement rules to test the hypothesis that an NMA can be more explanatorily
adequate than an MA. At the heart of this debate, of course, is the description of empty categories,
what they are and where they can occur. Chapter Seven focuses on PRO; Chapter Eight focuses on
[e] (=trace). The model described here lacks PRO and severely restricts both what an empty
category can be and where empty categories can be inserted. In addition, my proposals include
nearly twenty different conditions on syntactic representations. Some of these conditions are
versions of those found in various versions of movement approaches; others are completely new,
the result of the very different structural principles proposed (Appendix A: Outline of Technical
Terms, Page 607 ff.). In essence, I will propose a syntactic model that only contains Merge and no
operation like Move, arguing that only Merge is justified. This conclusion appears to comport with
Chomsky’s recent statement, “While (iterated) Merge ‘comes free,’ any other operation requires
justification” (Chomsky 2000). I will argue that, given an adequate theory of phrase structure and
binding relations, Move is redundant and, therefore, unjustified.
Some years ago, I presented an earlier version of the syntactic feature space discussed in Chapter
Three at one of the long sessions of the LSA annual meeting in Washington (Binkert 1989). At the
conclusion, a member of the audience asked why I had reverted to structuralism. I was rather taken
aback by the question then because I had not seen my proposals as a return to the concerns of
structural linguistics. Rather, it seemed to me that during the late 1960's linguistic theory had
reached a fork in the road. Transformations in the sense of the Standard Theory of TG (Chomsky
1965) were beginning to prove problematic. The subsequent decades were a period of considerable
upheaval in which a variety of proposals were considered. X–bar syntax was one of them, and I
considered my own work an outgrowth of that refinement in syntactic theory (Binkert 1984).
Alternatively, many linguists pursued another route: rather than try to enrich the theory of phrase
structure, they chose to look at conditions on transformations and on ways to constrain the
transformational component. My sense back in the 1980's was that movement rules could be
eliminated altogether if the theory of phrase structure were extended and refined, and if empty
categories were merged into phrases in the process of building up syntactic and semantic
representations, that is, if [e] were in the lexicon along with there, people, go, etc. I share that sense
iv
today even though it is clear that my own work has been informed by the research on movement
rules in general and trace theory in particular.
I am grateful to many colleagues and students for their useful comments on this research; in
particular, I would like to thank Georgianne Baartmans, David Dinneen, Renate Gerulaitis, Cindy
Hart–Gonzalez, Kathy Malin, Lynn MacFarland, Daniel McDougall, Yukari Mori, Steven
Nicholson, Keiko Noji, Tere Onica, Marlita Reddy, Asae Shichi, Daniel Teuber, and Jyoti Tuladhar.
I am also indebted to Dan Fullmer for many hours spent in spirited debate over the syntactic
structures discussed here, and to Madelyn Kissock for many useful discussions and suggestions
which helped to clarify the issues. I especially want to thank Rich Campbell whose comments on
earlier versions of this book have improved its quality in ways too numerous to mention
individually; Rich has caught many errors and uncovered many problems which forced me to rethink
and rewrite. The book was also used in manuscript form in an advanced course in semantics and
syntax at Oakland University during the Winter term, 1997. I am very grateful to the students in that
course for their valuable comments and helpful discussion. Naturally, I assume full responsibility
for all remaining mistakes.
I owe a special debt to Chris Wagner, my partner in the development of the first parser to implement
the proposals discussed here. I also wish to express my gratitude to the United State Air Force, in
particular to Lt. Colonel Hugh L. Burns, Jr., Ph. D., for three grants which Chris and I received: (i)
Follow–on Grant, Universal Energy Systems, Natural Language Understanding tools, Part One:
A Case Analysis System, 1985–86; (ii) Follow-on Grant, Universal Energy Systems, Natural
Language Understanding tools, Part Two: Hardware Based Semantics, 1985–86; and (iii) Summer
Faculty Research Program Grant, Lowry Air force Base, Colorado, summer 1985.
I am grateful to Henry Ford Hospital, Detroit, Michigan, where I held the position of Senior Staff
Investigator, Psychiatry and Neurology, from 1989 to 1993. A special debt is owed to Michael
Welch, M.D., Chairman, Department of Neurology. My tenure at Henry Ford Hospital lead to
collaboration with Gregory Brown, Ph. D., currently at the VA Medical Center in San Diego. The
research reported in this book has also been supported in part by a four–year grant with Greg Brown,
# NS30618 from the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke, the National Institutes
of Health. The subject of that grant, lexical decision making in Parkinson’s disease, incorporates
the semantic theory presented here.
Lastly, I would like to thank my wife, Jacqueline, and my sons, Kevin and Nathan, for their support
during the twenty years that the research reported here has been in progress.
Peter J. Binkert
Troy, Michigan
Spring 2001
v
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i
TABLE OF CONTENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii
ABBREVIATIONS AND TERMINOLOGY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv
CHAPTER ONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.1 INTRODUCTION: THE CATEGORIAL PROBLEM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

1.1.1 DESCRIPTIVE ADEQUACY IN SYNCHRONIC ANALYSIS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
1.1.2 DESCRIPTIVE ADEQUACY IN DIACHRONIC ANALYSIS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
1.1.3 EXPLANATORY ADEQUACY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
1.2 POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
1.3 SOME BASIC FEATURE DISTINCTIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
FIGURE ONE: PROXIMAL POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
FIGURE TWO: NONPROXIMAL POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
1.4 MOVEMENT AND NONMOVEMENT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
1.5 NEGATION AND CAUSATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
1.6 NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
1.7 GENERAL HYPOTHESIS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
1.8 EXPRESSIONS OF POSSESSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36

1.8.1 INALIENABLE AND ALIENABLE POSSESSION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
1.8.2 POSSESSION AND NONPOSSESSION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
1.9 THE METAPHORICAL USES OF THE FEATURES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40

1.9.1 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±PROXIMAL]. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
1.9.2 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±DISJUNCTURAL]/[±CONJUNCTURAL].
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
1.9.3 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±EXTENSIONAL]. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
1.9.4 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±FIRST ORDER]. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
1.10 HOW MANY THEMATIC RELATIONS ARE THERE? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
FIGURE THREE: PROXIMAL NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . 50

FIGURE FOUR: NONPROXIMAL NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . 50
1.11 THEMATIC AND ATHEMATIC ASPECTS OF PERCEPTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
1.12 A PREVIEW OF SEMANTIC NETWORKS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
1.13 GENERALIZING MEANING: MOTION OVER AN EXPANSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
1.14 LEXICAL SPECIFICATION OF MEANING. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER ONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
CHAPTER TWO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
2.1 THE NEED FOR A TYPOLOGY OF PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
2.2 POSITIONAL VERSUS NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
2.3 SEMANTIC DISTINCTIONS AMONG PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
FIGURE FIVE: SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
2.4 INGRESSIVE (IGR) PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
2.5 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS: POSITIONAL PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
2.6 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS: NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
2.7 SUMMARY OF PREDICATE TYPES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
FIGURE SIX: SUMMARY OF PREDICATE TYPES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
FIGURE SIX: SUPPLEMENT ONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
2.8 NONSTATIVE REDUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
FIGURE SIX: SUPPLEMENT TWO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
2.9 GENERALIZATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
2.10 SOME APPARENT PROBLEMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
2.11 INCORPORATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
vii
2.12 SUMMARY OF SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER TWO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
CHAPTER THREE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
3.1 A FEATURE ANALYSIS FOR SYNTACTIC CATEGORIES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

3.1.1 THE SEPARATION OF X2 AND X1 LEVELS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
3.1.2 LEXICAL DECOMPOSITION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166
3.1.3 MAJOR AND MINOR MORPHOSYNTACTIC FEATURES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
FIGURE SEVEN I: FEATURES FOR ENGLISH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
FIGURE SEVEN II: FEATURES FOR ENGLISH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177
3.2 THE ENGLISH NOUN PHRASE CONDITION (NPC). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180
3.3 PHRASE STRUCTURE FRAMES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184
3.4 COMPARISON WITH OTHER FEATURE SYSTEMS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194

3.4.1 THE DP AND CP ANALYSES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196
3.4.2 RADFORD’S ACCOUNT OF THE ACQUISITION OF ENGLISH SYNTAX.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
3.5 THE AUXILIARY SYSTEM IN ENGLISH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206

3.5.1 PRELIMINARIES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206
3.5.2 THE DISTRIBUTION OF AUXILIARY ELEMENTS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
3.5.3 THE CONSTITUENCY OF AUXILIARY ELEMENTS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
3.5.4 THE PERFECTIVE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
3.5.5 THE VERB be. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
3.5.6 THE VERB do. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222
3.5.7 RESOLUTION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
3.6 ADVERBS IN FRENCH AND ITALIAN. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
3.7 CONDITIONS ON REPRESENTATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER THREE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
CHAPTER FOUR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
4.1 SYNTACTIC USES OF CASE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
4.2 SEMANTIC USES OF CASE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
viii
4.2.1 PRINCIPLED AND IDIOSYNCRATIC THEMATIC MARKING. . . . . . . . . . . . 266
4.2.2 PSYCHOLOGICAL PREDICATES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
4.3 THE LATIN CASE SYSTEM. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272

4.3.1 STRUCTURAL REPRESENTATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
4.3.2 THE LATIN CASE ALTERNATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279
4.3.3 THE LATIN ABLATIVE WITH VERBS AND PREPOSITIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . 286
4.4 COMPARISON OF ENGLISH, LATIN, NEWARI AND JAPANESE. . . . . . . . . . . . . 292
4.5 CASE IN INDO–EUROPEAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 302
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER FOUR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309
CHAPTER FIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 315
5.1 COMPUTATIONAL APPLICATIONS: DIMENSIONAL EXPRESSIONS . . . . . . . . 315
FIGURE EIGHT: CLASSIFICATORY THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319
5.2 THE PERCEPTUAL BASIS OF SEMANTICS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 320
5.3 SEMANTIC NETWORKS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322
5.4 LEXICAL ENTRIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323
5.5 PROMOTION AND DEMOTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327
5.6 PROTOTYPES AND STRENGTH OF ASSOCIATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
5.7 LEXICAL REDUNDANCIES: MOTION VERBS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
5.8 PROMOTION REVISITED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355
5.9 DERIVING THE SPECTRUM SPECIFICATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 357
5.10 THE LANGTECH PARSER. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 358

5.10.1 THE RETRIEVAL OF MORPHOSYNTACTIC FEATURES. . . . . . . . . . . . . 359
5.10.2 BUILDING SYNTACTIC STRUCTURE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 360
5.10.3 MERGING FRAMES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362
5.10.4 A NOTE ON INHERITANCE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362
5.10.5 STRENGTH OF ASSOCIATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363
5.10.6 THE RETRIEVAL OF SEMANTIC FEATURES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364
5.10.7 THE BREAKDOWN OF NOMINAL AND VERBAL FEATURES. . . . . . . . 366
ix
5.10.8 LINKING THE FEATURE SYSTEMS TOGETHER. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373
5.10.9 USING THE NETWORK TO EXPRESS GENERALIZATIONS. . . . . . . . . . 374
5.10.10 SOME PROBLEMS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381
CHAPTER SIX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391
6.1 ENCODING THE MEANING OF PREDICATES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391

6.1.1 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391
6.1.2 THEMATIC HIERARCHIES AND THEME LISTS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 393
6.1.3 PROMOTION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397
6.1.4 THEMATIC REDUNDANCIES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
6.2 VERB CLASSES AND STRUCTURAL ALTERNATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406
6.3 LEVIN’S ALTERNATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 409

6.3.1 OMISSION ALTERNATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 410
6.3.1.1 UNDERSTOOD REFLEXIVE OBJECT ALTERNATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 410
6.3.1.2 UNDERSTOOD BODY–PART OBJECT ALTERNATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
6.3.1.3 LOCATIVE PREPOSITION DROP ALTERNATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416
6.3.2 SUBJECT ALTERNATIONS NOT INVOLVING AN ANIMATE AGENT. . . . 421
FIGURE NINE: CAUSATIVE AND INSTRUMENTAL THEMES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 426
6.3.3 MIDDLE ALTERNATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429

6.3.4 CAUSATIVE/INCHOATIVE ALTERNATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 432
6.3.5 DATIVE ALTERNATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
6.3.6 LOCATIVE INVERSION and There–INSERTION ALTERNATIONS. . . . . . . . 437
6.4 SUMMARY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 453
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER SIX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 455
CHAPTER SEVEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469
7.1 SEMANTIC AND SYNTACTIC FRAMES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469
7.2 EMBEDDED PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469

7.2.1 THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF VERBAL ADJECTIVES AND VERBAL
NOUNS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470
7.2.2 FINITE AND NONFINITE V3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 477
7.2.3 CONTROL THEORY, STRUCTURE AND INTERPRETATION. . . . . . . . . . . . 483
x
FIGURE TEN: EMBEDDED V3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 488
7.3 NOMINALIZATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489

7.3.1 THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF NOUN PHRASES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489
7.3.2 THE DOUBLE POSSESSIVE CONSTRUCTION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 496
7.3.3 TREE DIAGRAMS FOR THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF N3. . . . . . . . . . . 500
7.3.4 GERUNDIAL NOMINALS AND DERIVED NOMINALS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 501
7.4 ABSTRACT REPRESENTATIONS, CONTRACTION, AND THE PASSIVE. . . . . . . 506
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER SEVEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
CHAPTER EIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
8.1 PERMANENT RESIDENTS, FREE RESIDENTS AND RESIDENTIAL DOMAINS

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
8.1.1 THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN N3 AND V3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
8.1.2 BINDING IN N3 AND V3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 537
8.1.3 SYNTAX AND PARSING. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542
8.2 WORD ORDER VARIATIONS AND WORD ORDER CONSTRAINTS. . . . . . . . . . . 547

8.2.1 RELATIVE CLAUSES IN ENGLISH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547
8.2.2 DIRECT AND INDIRECT QUESTIONS IN ENGLISH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 558
8.2.3 NONCONFIGURATIONAL LANGUAGES; SCRAMBLING IN LATIN. . . . . . 560
8.2.4 THE ORDERING OF V1 CONSTITUENTS IN ITALIAN AND HEBREW. . . . 565
8.2.5 THE VERB SECOND CONSTRAINT IN GERMAN. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573
8.3 SUMMARY AND NOTATIONAL VARIATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579
8.4 BINARY BRANCHING AND THE SYMMETRY OF SYNTAX. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
8.5 INNATENESS AND UNIVERSAL GRAMMAR. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 595
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER EIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 599
APPENDIX A: OUTLINE OF TECHNICAL TERMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 607
APPENDIX B: GLOSSARY OF TERMS AND ABBREVIATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 615
APPENDIX C: AN ILLUSTRATIVE NETWORK . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 623
REFERENCES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637
INDEX (TO BE EDITED) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 659
xi
xii
xiii
ABBREVIATIONS AND TERMINOLOGY
See also Appendix A: Outline of Technical Terms, Page 607 ff. and Appendix B: A Glossary of Terms and
Abbreviations Page 615 ff.
SYNTAX
MA Movement Approach to syntactic analysis, especially transformational grammar (TG) and any generative
grammar with movement operations like transformational rules, Move–", or Move.
NMA Non–Movement Approach to syntactic analysis; any generative grammar without movement operations.
PHRASE STRUCTURE
X3 A maximal projection of a phrase belonging to the syntactic category X. X3 projections immediately

dominate specifiers (subject and auxiliary in sentences and possessives and determiners in noun phrases).
X2 An intermediate projection of a phrase belonging to the syntactic category X. X2 projections immediately
dominate modifiers (adjuncts) such as descriptive adjectives and manner adverbs.
X1 An intermediate projection of a phrase belonging to the syntactic category X. X1 projections immediately
dominate complements and elements of compounds.
X0 A minimal projection of a phrase belonging to the syntactic category X. X0 projections immediately
dominate elements of word morphology.
Vn Verb Phrase Projections (n , {0, 1, 2, 3,}); includes projections of verbs, modals, auxiliaries, etc.
Nn Noun Phrase Projections (n , {0, 1, 2, 3,}); includes projections of nouns, pronouns, quantifiers, etc.
Cn Characterizer Phrase Projections (n , {0, 1, 2, 3,}); includes projections of adjectives, adverbs,
prepositions, determiners, degree words, complementizers, tense, etc.
[u] An unbound empty category, e.g., Let’s eat [u].
[e] A bound empty category, e.g., Whati should we eat [e]i?
GRAMMATICAL FUNCTIONS
SUBJECT Subject
PCOMP Primary Complement (Direct Object)
SCOMP Secondary Complements (Indirect Object, Prepositional Complements, Object Complements, etc.)
MOD Modifiers
CONDITIONS ON SYNTACTIC REPRESENTATIONS
AHC Argument Head Condition Page 536

APC Argument Predicate Condition Page 482
CBC Contraction Block Condition Page 508
CEC Center Embedding Condition Page 448
DRC Distinct Reference Condition Page 514
DTC Double Trigger Condition Page 537
EBC [e]–Binding Condition Page 545
ECC Empty Category Condition Page 232, 579
ENC Extended Neighborhood Condition Page 232
NPC Noun Phrase Condition Page 180
OAC One Affix Condition Page 186
SEC Subject Exclusion Condition Page 515
SHC Specifier Heaviness Condition Page 539
SOC Strict Order Condition Page 506
SVC Support Verb Condition Page 208
XCC X3 Cue Condition Page 533
XPC X Projection Condition Page 505
XSC X3 Specifier Condition Page 530
SEMANTICS
POSITIONAL ([+PST]) THEMATIC RELATIONS (›–ROLES)
THEME EXAMPLE (The theme is underlined.)
ABE ABESSIVE He is away from the building.

ABL ABLATIVE He walked away from the building.
ABS ABSENTIVE He is out of the building.
ADE ADESSIVE He is near the building.
ALL ALLATIVE He walked toward the building.
ELA ELATIVE He walked out of the building.
ILL ILLATIVE He walked into the building.
LOC LOCATIVE He is in the building.
NONPOSITIONAL ([–PST]) THEMATIC RELATIONS (›–ROLES)
THEME EXAMPLE (The theme is underlined.)
AFC AFFECTIVE (EXPERIENCER) He is nice to her.

AFR AFFERENTIAL (RECIPIENT) He gave it to her.
APS ALIENABLE POSSESSOR He has many debts.
ASC ASSOCIATIVE He has many debts.
ATT ATTRIBUTIVE He has many fears.
BEN BENEFACTIVE He did it for her.
CAU CAUSAL He died of cancer.
CIR CIRCUMSTANTIAL He did it with haste.
CNS CONSECUTIVE He is too ill for work.
COM COMITATIVE He went with her.
CPR COMPARATIVE He is similar to her.
CPS COMPOSITIONAL He made it out of gold.
DEL DELIMINITIVE He does well under pressure.
DIF DIFFERENTIAL He won by a mile.
EFC EFFECTIVE (AGENT) He embraced her.
EFR EFFERENTIAL He took it from her.
EXP EXPEDIENTIAL He went by train.
INS INSTRUMENTAL He built it with tools.
IPS INALIENABLE POSSESSOR He has many fears.
NAPS ALIENABLE NONPOSSESSOR He has no debts.
NASC NONASSOCIATIVE He has no debts.
NATT NONATTRIBUTIVE He has no fears.
NCIR NONCIRCUMSTANTIAL He did it without haste.
NCOM NONCOMITATIVE He went without her.
NCPR NONCOMPARATIVE He is different from her.
NINS NONINSTRUMENTAL He built it without tools.
NIPS INALIENABLE NONPOSSESSOR He has no fears.
ORG ORIGINITIVE He got out of debt.
PUR PURPOSIVE He did it for exercise.
REF REFERENTIAL He is suitable for her.
RES RESULTATIVE He made it into a ring.
TRM TERMINATIVE He got into debt.
xv
CHAPTER ONE
1.1 INTRODUCTION: THE CATEGORIAL PROBLEM.
Many linguists have attempted to explain thematic roles like AGENT and INSTRUMENT in the
context of formal grammatical theory. Within the framework of Transformational Grammar
(hereafter, TG), some of the earliest studies include those of Fillmore (1968, 1969, 1977) and Gruber
(1967a, 1967b, 1976); later work in the framework of Government and Binding Theory includes
Hoekstra 1984, Marantz 1984, and Baker, M. 1988.1 But there have also been studies within the
framework of Cognitive Grammar (Langacker 1987, 1991a, 1991b), Functional Grammar (Dik
1980; Bolkestein et al. 1981), Lexical–Functional Grammar (Bresnan 1982), and Relational
Grammar (Johnson, D. 1977; Perlmutter 1983), as well as some more general studies (Anderson,
J. M. 1971; Nilsen 1973; Cook, W. 1979; Givón 1984; Croft 1991; Spencer 1991; Levin 1993). All
of these efforts have one thing in common: they attempt to explicate the nature, distribution, and/or
manifestation of thematic relations like AGENT, INSTRUMENT, SOURCE, GOAL, etc.2
In this chapter, we will be concerned with the following questions mentioned above in the Preface:
(1) a. What accounts for the fact that lexical items with similar meaning govern the same
thematic marker (preposition, postposition or grammatical case)? For example, why
are the complements of verbs like remove (She removed the book from the shelf) and
discourage (She discouraged him from going) both introduced by the same marker
from? Why does into show up in both She inserted the key into the lock and She
forced them into reconciling?
b. Why does the same thematic marker show up repeatedly in the world’s languages for
the same set of thematic relations? For example, why is the English preposition to
used to indicate the goal of motion (He flew to Paris), the recipient (He gave it to
her), and the person affected (He was mean to her)? And why are the same relations
expressed in Japanese by the postposition –ni, in Finnish by the allative case, and in
Sanskrit by the dative case?
c. How can the uses of particular markers be generalized so that the individual uses do
not have to be listed? For example, is there some common element to all uses of
from and to in English so that the presence of that element automatically “triggers”
the use of those prepositions?
d. When a language loses a particular thematic marker over time, say, a grammatical
say, the Greek dative?
All of the above questions deal with predictability and expectation. The fact is that the use of
2 Chapter One
particular thematic markers is not haphazard. As one moves from language to language, there is a
very high level of predictability associated with the uses of prepositions, postpositions, and
grammatical cases. For example, one is not surprised to discover that the Italian preposition da
marks both the SOURCE of movement (uscire dal negozio ‘to come from the store’) and the
CAUSE of an activity (tremare dal freddo ‘to tremble from the cold’), since SOURCE and CAUSE
are very frequently indicated by the same marker in many languages including those that are not
related historically, e.g., Turkish ablative case (Lewis 1967: 37–38), German preposition aus
(Durrell 1983: 411–412), Japanese postposition –kara (Martin 1975: 44–46). An adequate theory
of grammar must account for such expectations and, at the same time, provide a description for those
instances where expectations are not met. For example, although both SOURCE and CAUSE are
marked by da in Italian and from in English, one does not use the same interrogative for SOURCE
and CAUSE in either language. Generally speaking, dove ‘where’ or da dove ‘from where’ is used
for SOURCE, and perchè ‘why’ is used for CAUSE. Our chief goal in this chapter will be to lay
the foundation of a theory of thematic relations which accounts for both the similarities and the
differences in the use of thematic markers.
Within the entire group of thematic relations that have been proposed in the literature, a basic
division occurs between positional and nonpositional relations. In the former group, we find
relations like SOURCE and GOAL in (2) which refer to a location in space and co–occur with
expressions related to location and distance measurement; in the latter group, we find relations like
CAUSE and PURPOSE in (3) which show none of these characteristics.
(2) a. He went out of the meadow (SOURCE).

b. He went into the woods (GOAL).
c. Where he went was into the woods.
d. All the way out of the meadow, he went.
e. How deeply into the woods did he go?
f. *It was out of the meadow and not because of anything else that he went.
(3) a. He went out of curiosity (CAUSE)

b. He went for rest and relaxation (PURPOSE).
c. *Where he went was for the rest and relaxation.
d. *All the way out of curiosity, he went.
e. *How deeply for the rest and relaxation did he go?
f. It was out of curiosity and not because of anything else that he went.
Let us refer to relations like SOURCE and GOAL as [+POSITIONAL] ([+PST]) and ones like
CAUSE and PURPOSE as [–POSITIONAL] ([–PST]), a distinction we will make precise shortly.
As we will see at many points in this book, the distinction between [+PST] and [–PST] relations
plays a pivotal role in many areas of syntax. For example, in English, notice that only [+PST]
expressions can occur in sentence initial position when the subject occurs after the verb (the
“Locative Inversion Alternation,” Levin 1993: 92–94):
Chapter One 3
(4) a. Out of the woods, ran Sue.

b. Into the room, walked John.
(5) a. *Out of guilt, acted Sue.

b. *For exercise, walks John.
Similarly, only [–PST] indirect objects occur in the double object construction (the “Dative
Alternation,” Levin 1993: 45–48) as the following examples illustrate:
(6) a. He threw the ball to the center fielder.

b. He threw the center fielder the ball.
(7) a. He threw the ball to center field.

b. *He threw center field the ball.
Further, English and many other languages have sets of adverbial quantifiers like where, there, and
here, which are only used in [+PST] expressions. Compare the following:
(8) a. He turned the car into a dark alley.

b. Into a dark alley is where he turned the car.
c. He turned the car into a collector’s item.

d. *Into a collector’s item is where he turned the car.
(9) a. He carried the gun out of the house.

b. Was it really out of that house over there that he carried the gun?
c. He carried the gun out of fear.

d. *Was it really out of that fear over there that he carried the gun?
For some reason that is not clear, many of the earliest studies on thematic relations focused primarily
on the nonpositional relations (but see Anderson, J. M. 1971; Miller and Johnson–Laird 1976;
Jackendoff 1983, Chapter Nine; Herskovitz 1986; and, more recently, much work in the framework
of Cognitive Grammar, e.g., Zelinsky–Wibbelt 1993). This was unfortunate, because the positional
relations are more concrete and, therefore, undeniably easier to specify, and because the
nonpositional relations are related to and derived from the positional ones despite the fact that there
is often a distinction between them as the above examples show. In general, languages do not have
two entirely distinct sets of thematic markers (prepositions, postpositions, grammatical cases, etc.),
one for relations that are [+PST] and another for those that are [–PST]. For example, in the ancient
Indo–European languages, all separative relations are expressed by the ablative case if there is one.
This includes actual perceived movements in the direction away, i.e., SOURCE, as well as
expressions of freedom, deprivation, abandonment, etc. We have examples like the following in
Sanskrit (10) and Latin (11):3
4 Chapter One
(10) a. té sédhanti pathó (ablative) vË;kam.

they drive away path wolf
‘They drive away the wolf from the path.’
(Atharva–Veda; example from Whitney 1955: 286)
b. n~4 sm~d (ablative) gan; áç chidyát‘.

not–him people cut off
‘The people are not cut off from him.’
(Catapatha–Brahmana, 14, 5, 1, 10; example from Delbrück 1988: 109)
c. sá ;
‘v~ínam varun; ap~ç~3 n (ablative) muñcáti.
he even–him Varuna–snare release
‘He releases even him from Varuna’s snare.’
(Taittiriya–Samhita, 2, 1, 2, 2; example from Delbrück 1988: 109)
(11) a. Dolabella Delo (ablative) proficiscitur.

Dolabella Delos sets out
‘Dolabella sets out from Delos.’
(Cicero, Actio in Verrem, I, 18, 46; example from Gildersleeve and Lodge 1960: 251)
b. Omni Gallia (ablative) Romanis interdicit.

all Gaul Romans bars
‘He bars the Romans from all (of) Gaul.’
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, 1, 46; example from Allen and Greenough 1931: 249)
c. Oculis (ablative) se privavit.

eyes himself deprived
‘He deprived himself of his eyes.’
(Cicero, De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum, v, 42; example from Allen and
Greenough 1931: 249)
In Ancient Greek, which has no ablative case, the separative functions of the ablative are expressed
by the genitive:
(12) a. ‘% n‘sos ou& polù diéchousa t‘s ‘& peírou (genitive)

the island not far cut off the mainland
‘the island being not far distant from the mainland’
(Thucydides 3.51; example from Smyth 1956: 329, §1392)
b. a* postereî me tÇn chr‘mátÇn (genitive).

he deprives me the property
‘He deprives me of my property.’
(Isocrates, 12, 35; example from Smyth 1956: 329, §1394)
Chapter One 5
c. tÇn epit‘deíÇn (genitive) ou& k apor‘3 somen.

the provisions not we shall lack
‘We shall not lack provisions.’
(Xenophon, Anabasis, 2, 2, 11; example from Smyth 1956: 329, §1396)
Whatever the defects of traditional terminology, in the Indo–European languages which have an
ablative, it remains that the ablative is the from–case; therefore, governors (verbs, adjectives, etc.)
having a separative meaning are generally construed with the ablative, whether the meaning involves
actual ([+PST]) or figurative ([–PST]) separation. When the ablative is lost as a morphologically
distinct case as in Greek, there is order in the way the functions of the ablative are distributed among
the remaining cases. That order is specified by semantic classes like “Separative Notions.” The
same situation obtains in other languages with grammatical case, including those as diverse as Innuit
(Barnum 1901), Finnish (Olli 1958), and Turkish (Lewis 1967): semantic relationships are grouped
into classes, and these classes are realized by the same grammatical case.
When languages do not have elaborate case systems, but express thematic relations with prepositions
(English, Welsh, etc.) or postpositions (Japanese, Hindi, etc.), we find the same basic criterion of
semantic commonality underlying the use of these particles. Thus, it is not an accident that from
occurs in separative phrases like the following, whether or not real movement occurs:
(13) a. He ran from his office (his father, his responsibilities, etc.)
b. He is back from Europe (the market, unconsciousness, etc.).
c. Keep this away from the children.
d. She can’t tell puce from fuchsia.
e. He can’t find any relief from pain.
f. They’ll be here an hour from now.
g. We got a note from the dean.
h. He bought the car from John.
i. He died from overexposure.
j. We made it from the materials we had.
In examples like the above, there is a direct connection between positional phrases (from his office)
and nonpositional phrases (from overexposure), however one wishes to term this connection
(denotative/connotative, literal/figurative, literal/metaphorical, central/extended, etc.). Furthermore,
these examples are typical: as we will see, similar sets exist for the other prepositions in English
(to, in, out, over, etc.); and, one can easily construct other sets for non–Indo–European languages,
e.g., the postpositions ni, e, kara, de, etc. in Japanese.
1.1.1 DESCRIPTIVE ADEQUACY IN SYNCHRONIC ANALYSIS.
Theories of case grammar (Fillmore 1968, 1969, 1977; Gruber 1967a, 1967b, 1976; Stockwell et
al. 1973) cannot account for data such as those in (13) in a way that relates the positional and
nonpositional uses of prepositions. In Fillmore’s system, for example, it is an accident that a
6 Chapter One
preposition like English to shows up as both GOAL (He went to New York) and
DATIVE/EXPERIENCER (New York appeals to him). This is a serious loss of descriptive
adequacy, because the same two relations (GOAL and DATIVE/EXPERIENCER) are realized by
the same postposition in Japanese (ni) and Hindi (ko), the same preposition in Italian (a) and Welsh
(i), the same inflectional case affix in ancient Indo–European languages like Sanskrit and Latin
(dative case), the same case in non–Indo–European languages like Finnish and Estonian (allative
case) and Turkish (dative case), and so on. When such a wide range of languages realizes ostensibly
different relations in the same way, it is clear that the relations have something in common, and that
a descriptively adequate theory of language must discover and formalize what that commonality is
if it is to make revealing generalizations about natural language.
That such generalizations must be made is indicated by sets of data like the following; an example
of literal motion toward a place occurs in the (a)–sentences expressing a GOAL; of non–literal
motion in the (b)–sentences expressing a RECIPIENT; of no perceptible motion at all, but rather of
the person affected or EXPERIENCER in the (c)–sentences:
(14) English (same preposition, to).
a. She drove the car to New York. (A question like Where did she drive the car (to)?
is completely acceptable and asks about literal motion toward some unknown place.)
b. She gave the book to him./She gave him the book. (To him cannot be the answer to
a question like Where did she give the book?; in fact, such questions are marginal,
at best.)
c. The book appeals to him. (*Where does the book appeal?)
(15) Latin (same grammatical case, dative).4
a. Hostes finibus (dative) appropinquant.

enemy border approach
‘The enemy approaches the border.’
b. Litteras mihi (dative) nuntius reddidit.

letter to me messenger delivered
‘The messenger delivered a letter to me.’
c. Mihi (dative) placet.

to me it pleases
‘It pleases me.’
Chapter One 7
(16) Italian (same preposition, a).
a. Mio fratello va a scuola ogni giorno.

my brother goes to school every day
‘My bother goes to school every day.’
b. Paulo scrive una lettera a Maria.

Paul wrties a letter to Mary
‘Paul is writing a letter to Mary.
c. A mio fratello piace il romanzo.

to my brother pleases the novel
‘The novel pleases (is pleasing to) my brother.’
(17) Sanskrit (same grammatical case, dative).
a. r~j~ van~ya (dative) pratis;t;hati.

king forest sets out
‘The king sets out for the forest.’
b. mahyam ; (dative) pustakam

; dehi.
to me book give
‘Give me the book.’
c. rocate viprebhyah (dative).

it is pleasing to the Brahmans
‘It is pleasing to the Brahmans.’
(18) Hindi (same postposition ko).5
a. vah apne deÑ ko laut; gay~. (example from McGregor 1995: Page 54)
he own country to return went
‘He went back to his own country.’
b. us ~dm§ ko t§n pustkem < d§jie. (example from McGregor 1995: Page 54)
that man to three books give
‘Give three books to that man.’
c. landan Ram ko pasand hai.

London Ram to pleasing is
‘Ram likes London.’
8 Chapter One
(19) Welsh (same preposition, i).
a. Ddaru nhw fynd i Iwerddon. (example from King, G. 1993: 187)

did they go to Ireland
‘Did they go to Ireland?’
b. Rhoddias fwyd i gath. (example from Thorne 1993: 405)

I gave food to cat
‘I gave food to a cat.’
c. Dylem ni maddau i’n gelynion. (example from Thorne 1993: 405)

necessary we forgiving to–our enemies
‘We ought to forgive our enemies.’
(20) Japanese (same postposition, ni).
a. Mary–wa Tokyo–ni itta.

Mary Tokyo–to went
‘Mary went to/toward Tokyo.’
b. Mary–wa sensei–ni tegami–o kaku.

Mary teacher–to letter writes
‘Mary writes a letter to the teacher.’
c. John–ni eiga–ga omoshiroi

John to movie is interesting
‘The movie is interesting to John.’
(21) Finnish (same grammatical case, allative).
a. Menimme asemalle (allative). (example from Olli 1958: 147)

we went to the station
‘We went to the station.’
b. Annoin miehelle (allative) rahaa. (example from Olli 1958: 147)

I gave man money
‘I gave the man some money.’
c. Jumala on laupias syntisille (allative). (example from Eliot 1890: 155)

God is merciful to sinners
‘God is merciful to sinners.’
Chapter One 9
(22) Turkish (same grammatical case, dative).
a. Türkiye’ye (dative) döndüler. (example from Lewis 1967: 36)

Turkey they returned
‘They returned to Turkey.’
b. Mektubu Ali’ye (dative) gösterdim. (example from Lewis 1967: 36)

letter Ali I showed
‘I showed the letter to Ali.’
c. Tütün size (dative) dokunur–mu. (example adapted from Deny 1971: 187)
tobacco you annoy–question
‘Does tobacco annoy you?’
Given these data, suppose we explore the hypothesis that thematic relations like GOAL,
EXPERIENCER, SOURCE, CAUSE, etc. are actually categorial labels for constellations of
semantic features. We might then attribute the use of one marker over several thematic relations to
a common semantic feature which the relations share. For example, the commonality in GOAL and
EXPERIENCER might be a feature [+CONJUNCTURAL] which, roughly speaking, would denote
association or union. The commonality in SOURCE, CAUSE and all the examples in (13), might
be [+DISJUNCTURAL], which, again roughly speaking, would denote dissociation or separation
(a precise definition of these features will be given below).6 Therefore, the use of one thematic
marker (preposition, postposition, grammatical case, etc.) for a variety of thematic relations can be
attributed to the presence of identical feature(s) in the set of features that defines each of those
relations.
This approach would overcome the loss of descriptive adequacy that the theories of thematic
relations mentioned above have shared. In those systems, the common features associated with
thematic relations are not expressible, so that it is an accident that the same marker is used across
relations. Under the present hypothesis, rather than saying that the thematic markers in (14)
through (22) indicate three different unrelated thematic relations (GOAL, RECIPIENT and
EXPERIENCER), we say they indicate the feature [+CONJUNCTURAL] which is a member of the
set of features defining each of these three relations.
Another advantage of the present hypothesis is that it would allow for specificity along with
generality. We need a descriptive system that will allow us to generalize a marker across relations
as well as one which would allow divergence. For example, consider again the relations GOAL,
RECIPIENT and EXPERIENCER as they are expressed in Newari, a Tibeto–Burman language
spoken in Nepal. In this language, the distribution splits in an interesting way. Literal motion,
always in the locative case and marked by a distinct inflectional affix, can only be made to places
(23a and 23b), never directly to people (23c); accordingly, there is no dative counterpart to the “a”
sentences in (14) through (22), and (23d) does not occur. However, alongside of the expected
RECIPIENT in (23e) in the dative case, we still get the EXPERIENCER example (23f).7
10 Chapter One
(23) a. Jĩ Kathmand–e (locative) safu yãka.

I Kathmandu–to book took
‘I took the book to Kathmandu.’
b. Jĩ R~m–y~ tha–e (locative) safu yãka.

I Ram–of place–to book took
‘I took the book to Ram.’ (Literally: to Ram’s place)
c. *Jĩ R~m–y~ke (locative) safu yãka.

I Ram–to book took
‘I took the book to Ram.’
d. *Jĩ waita (dative) safu yãka.

I to him book took
‘I took the book to him.’
e. Jĩ waita (dative) safu biya.

I to him book give
‘I give the book to him.’
f. Jĩ–ta (dative) cha ya.

to me you there is a liking
‘I like you.’
In Tinrin, a Melanesian language of New Caledonia, we find the same dichotomy. Motion to a
GOAL is usually expressed by the preposition pwere, whereas the RECIPIENT and
EXPERIENCER are regularly marked by the preposition ei (examples from Osumi 1995; 1SG = first
person singular; 3SG = third person singular; COMP = complementizer):
(24) a. mwairrù nrî–wâdrâ toni nrâ fi pwere numea (Page 92)

a while ago in the morning Tony 3SG go to Noumea
‘This morning Tony went to Noumea.’
b. nrâ nrorri nraasi ei gogo (Page 118)

3SG give rice to Gogo
‘He gave rice to Gogo.’
c. nrâ horro ei rò bee nrôsù nrî–wâdrâ mesi (Page 224)

3SG hard for 1SG COMP wake in the morning early
‘It is hard for me to wake up early in the morning.’
The [±POSITIONAL] dichotomy is also found in Indo–European. For example, in Russian, the
GOAL of motion is expressed with various prepositions, whereas the RECIPIENT and
Chapter One 11
EXPERIENCER are regularly expressed by the dative case alone (examples from Borras and
Christian 1971):
(25) a. Ljénin pojéxal na Kápri. (Page 340)

Lenin went to Capri
‘Lenin went to Capri.’
b. Ja dal knígu yç…ítjelju (dative). (Page 31)

I gave book teacher
‘I gave the book to the teacher.’
c. Ja vam (dative) nje mješáju? (Page 32)

I you not disturbing
‘I am not disturbing (to) you, am I?’
Similarly, in Ancient Greek, the GOAL of motion is expressed with prepositions, while the dative
marks the RECIPIENT and EXPERIENCER (examples from Smyth 1956):
(26) a. e. kselaúnei e. pí tòn potamón. (Page 379, §1689.3.a)

he marches to the river
‘He marches to the river.’
b. Kûros dídÇsin au. tô' (dative) misthón. (Page 340, §1469)

Cyrus gives him wages
‘Cyrus gives wages to him.’
c. toîs (dative) pléosin (dative) a* réskontés e. smen. (Page 339, §1461)

the majority pleasing we are
‘We are pleasing to the majority.’
Given the features we have proposed, we can say that themes which are [+POSITIONAL,
+CONJUNCTURAL] are marked in Newari with the locative case, in Tinrin with the preposition
pwere, and in Russian and Ancient Greek with various prepositions. Relations that are
[–POSITIONAL, +CONJUNCTURAL] are marked with the dative case in Newari, Russian and
Ancient Greek, and with the preposition ei in Tinrin. Such variation is typical across languages.
As we saw above, words like where, there, and here are only used for [+PST] expressions in
English.
Thematic relations are not always overtly marked by a case or a particle (preposition or
postposition), that is, in many languages, it is the meaning of the verb alone which determines the
appropriate relations for complements. We find this in English in examples like the following:
12 Chapter One
(27) [+DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL].
a. He exited the building. (took himself OUT OF the building)

b. He exhumed the body. (took the body OUT OF the ground)
c. He uncorked the bottles. (took corks OUT OF the bottles)
d. He decontaminated the specimen. (took contamination OUT OF the specimen)
e. He bleached the fabric. (took color OUT OF the fabric)
(28) [–DISJUNCTURAL, +CONJUNCTURAL].
a. He entered the building. (put himself INTO the building)

b. He inhumed the body. (put the body INTO the ground)
c. He corked the bottles. (put corks INTO the bottles)
d. He contaminated the specimen. (put contamination INTO the specimen)
e. He dyed the fabric. (put color INTO the fabric)
In examples like the above, the thematic marker is “incorporated” (Gruber 1976) into the meaning
of the verb, sometimes as an affix, but in many instances without any overt morphological element
signifying the thematic relation involved. An adequate theory of thematic relations must account
for such incorporation since it occurs in widely divergent languages. For example, in Ayutla
Mixtec, an Oto–Manguean language of Mexico, we find pairs like the following (from Hills 1990:
14–15):
(29) a. t~sh§h i tutu ndah~h sih§h ah

give I paper hand mother her
‘I am giving the paper to her mother’
b. k§h§nh sih§h ah tutu ndah~h i

get mother her paper hand I
‘Her mother is receiving the paper from me.’
(30) a. shikoh chi nãnih nãuh ra

sell she corn face his
‘She will sell corn to him.’
b. satah chi nãnih nãuh ra

buy she corn face his
‘She will buy corn from him.’
Similarly, in Bemba, a Bantu language of northeastern Zambia, the verb itself carries distinctions
like GOAL and SOURCE. Consider the following examples adapted from Givon (1984: 110),
where LOC marks general location:
Chapter One 13
(31) a. a–à–ya ku–mushi

he–past–go to LOC–village
‘He went to the village.’
b. a–à–shya ku–mushi
he–past–go from LOC–village
‘He went from the village.’
c. a–à–isa ku–mushi
he–past–come to LOC–village
‘He came to the village.’
d. a–à–fuma ku–mushi
he–past–come from LOC–village
‘He came from the village.’
In Tagalog, an Austronesian language of the Philippines, the marker sa introduces a complement

which often corresponds to a preposition in languages like English, but one of very generalized
meaning. “The particular preposition used depends on the verb in the Tagalog sentence” (Schachter
and Otanes 1972: 77). The following illustrations are from Aspillera 1993:73, unless otherwise
noted:
(32) a. POSITIONAL GOAL.

Pupunta kami sa Tagaytay búkas.
go to we PREP Tagaytay tomorrow
‘We shall go to Tagaytay tomorrow.’
b. NONPOSITIONAL GOAL (RECIPIENT).

Ebibigay ko ito sa kanya.
give to I this PREP her
‘I shall give this to her.’
c. POSITIONAL SOURCE.
Galing kami sa Baguio.
come from we PREP Baguio
‘We came from Baguio.’
d. NONPOSITIONAL SOURCE (GIVER).

Bumibili sa amin ang bata. (example from Bowen 1965: 197)
buy from PREP us TOPIC child
‘The child buys from us.’
14 Chapter One
To summarize, the wide range of data in (14) through (32) indicates that a descriptively adequate
grammar must account for the following facts regarding thematic relations as they are expressed in
various languages:
(33) a. Languages often make a fundamental distinction between thematic relations that are
POSITIONAL ([+PST]) and those that are NONPOSITIONAL ([–PST]).
b. Languages often use the same marker (grammatical case, preposition, postposition)
to specify semantically similar thematic relations, sometimes even blurring the
distinction between [+PST] and [–PST] relations.
c. Languages often do not signal thematic relations with specific markers; rather, the
different thematic relations are incorporated directly into the meaning of predicates.
1.1.2 DESCRIPTIVE ADEQUACY IN DIACHRONIC ANALYSIS.
Turning from synchronic to diachronic analysis, we find that theories which analyze thematic
relations as atomic categories often fail to account for historical change and dialect divergence in
the expression of thematic relations. I have alluded to this above in my discussion of Ancient Greek.
The parent Indo–European language had separate grammatical cases for the expression of different
thematic relations. These uses are summarized in (34).
(34) a. Ablative: separative expressions.
b. Genitive:
(1) Possessive (alienable) expressions.

(2) Originative and partitive expressions.
c. Locative: expressions involving location in place and time.
d. Instrumental: instrumental and comitative expressions.
e. Dative:
(1) Possessive (inalienable) expressions.

(2) Experiencer, referential, and recipient expressions.
Some languages like Sanskrit and Avestan, in general, preserve these distinctions. However, in most
daughter languages, various mergers occur. For example, in Ancient Greek, the uses of the ablative
merge with the uses of the genitive, and the locative and instrumental merge with the dative. In
Latin, the separative uses of the ablative merge with the instrumental, and, in some instances, with
the locative. This regrouping of thematic relations is not haphazard, as we will see in Chapter Four.
Chapter One 15
Given a feature based approach to thematic relations, I will propose that the system in Greek
involves a redistribution of the feature [±DISJUNCTURAL]. In theories which describe thematic
relations as atomic categories, such an explanation is not possible, and there is no way to account
for either loss of case or mergers of case.
1.1.3 EXPLANATORY ADEQUACY.
The loss of descriptive adequacy in past theories of thematic relations leads to a loss of explanatory
adequacy as well. The emphasis in theoretical linguistics, due in large part to research in generative
grammar, is on the search for the most highly generalizable analyses. The study of thematic
relations involves one area of semantics. The descriptions used in this area must be relatable to
descriptions used in other areas of semantics and to the whole grammar in general. But a theory
such as Fillmore’s case grammar is not easily relatable to other work. To see this, consider the
following list of cases drawn from Fillmore 1968, 1971a:8
(35) a. AGENTIVE: the case of the typically animate perceived instigator of the action
identified in the verb. JOHN opened the door; The door was opened BY JOHN.
b. INSTRUMENTAL: the case of the inanimate force or object causally involved in

the action or state identified in the verb. A HAMMER broke the window; The
window was broken WITH A HAMMER; A HURRICANE destroyed the village.
c. OBJECTIVE: the semantically most neutral case, the case of anything representable
by a noun whose role in the action or state identified by the verb is identified by the
semantic interpretation of the verb itself (not to be confused with the notion direct
object). Someone opened THE DOOR; THE DOOR opened.
d. EXPERIENCER: the case of the animate being affected by the state or action
identified in the verb. John gave the book TO BILL; BILL received the book; The
movie appeals to HIM.
e. LOCATIVE: the case which identifies the location or spatial orientation of the state
or action identified in the verb. It happened IN ITALY; The book is ON THE TABLE.
f. GOAL: the case which identifies the direction of the state or action identified in the
verb. John flew TO ITALY; John ran INTO THE HOUSE.
g. SOURCE: the case which identifies the origin of the state or action identified in the
verb. John flew FROM ITALY; John ran OUT OF THE HOUSE.
Now consider the following semantic primitives proposed in Schank and Abelson 1977: 12–14:
16 Chapter One
(36) a. MOVE: the movement of a body part of an animal by that animal.
b. PROPEL: the application of a physical force to an object.
c. INGEST: the taking in of an object by an animal to the inside of that animal.
d. EXPEL: the expulsion of an object from the body of an animal into the physical
world.
e. GRASP: the grasping of an object by an actor.
f. PTRANS: the transfer of the physical location of an object.
g. ATRANS: the transfer of an abstract relationship such as possession, ownership or

control.
h. SPEAK: the action of producing sounds.
i. ATTEND: the action of attending or focusing a sense organ toward a stimulus.
j. MTRANS: the transfer of mental information between animals or within an animal.
k. MBUILD: the construction by an animal of new information from old information.
Although Fillmore’s objectives were different from those of Shank and Abelson, it is clear that the
two systems outlined above contain substantial overlap. For example, the primitive EXPEL, which
refers to the expulsion of an object from the body of an animal, is part of the meaning of verbs like
sweat, spit, and cry. The primitive INGEST, which refers to the taking in of an object, is part of the
meaning of verbs like eat, smoke, and breathe. Clearly, EXPEL is related to SOURCE and INGEST
is related to GOAL. But Fillmore’s theory and Schank’s theory are stated in such as way that this
relationship cannot be precisely specified. Thus, there is little transportability between these
systems, so that the valuable insights of each cannot be gathered into one framework. Yet, the
grammatical facts of natural language, in particular, the distribution of thematic markers, clearly
indicate that there must be a connection between thematic relations and semantics in general. That
is, the same feature which shows up in relations like SOURCE and CAUSE ([+DISJUNCTURAL],
e.g., from) should form part of the definition of words like aversion, deprive, empty, and so on; and,
that feature should also show up in the definition of a primitive like EXPEL if a theory contains such
a primitive. Similarly, the same feature that shows up in relations like GOAL and EXPERIENCER
([+CONJUNCTURAL], e.g., to) should form part of the definition of words like inclination, supply,
fill, and the like and show up in a putative primitive like INGEST.9
The feature based approach to thematic relations that I have suggested above provides an
explanation for why the same groupings of markers occur repeatedly in natural languages. There
is, of course, nothing particularly novel in this approach. Feature analysis has had long history in
Chapter One 17
generative grammar going back to the earliest work in the Standard Theory (Chomsky 1965;
Chomsky and Halle 1968; Katz and Fodor 1964; Weinreich 1966) where features have been
proposed for the same reason they are proposed here: to express cross–categorial generalizations.
In the remainder of this chapter, I will show that the semantic features which form complex semantic
categories like thematic relations are features that can be grounded in perception so that they specify
a connection between language and the nature of human beings. Any system which does not make
this connection will fail to attain explanatory adequacy in the sense of Chomsky 1965. Further, I
will argue that thematic relations that are [–POSITIONAL] are metaphors for those that are
[+POSITIONAL], so that the same features that distinguish and relate the latter group are employed
in distinguishing and relating the former.
1.2 POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS.
I began the discussion of thematic relations by making a distinction between expressions which
indicate positional relations like He ran from his office and those which do not like He died from
overexposure. To this, we must add a fundamental breakdown between those positional relations
which refer to position in time [+TEMPORAL] and those which refer to position in space
[–TEMPORAL].10 We can loosely define these features as follows:
(37) a. [+POSITIONAL] ([+PST, ±TMP]): having the primary focus on location,

orientation, or movement in space or time, e.g., He went FROM CALIFORNIA TO
NEW YORK, He remained FROM SUNRISE TO SUNSET.
b. [–POSITIONAL] ([–PST]): not having the primary focus on location, orientation,

or movement in space or time, e.g., FROM MY DESCRIPTION, he believes the
movie will appeal TO HIM.11
(38) a. [+TEMPORAL] ([+PST, +TMP]): focusing on time, e.g, He remained FROM

SUNRISE TO SUNSET.
b. [–TEMPORAL] ([+PST, –TMP]): focusing on place, e.g., He went FROM

CALIFORNIA TO NEW YORK
Given a perceptual apparatus (human or machine), these definitions can be made very precise. For
example, a computer equipped with a vision system and an internal clock can assign specific values
to each of these features: the definition of [+PST] relations involving movement can be equated
with changes in positional vectors over time; the definition of [+PST] relations not involving
movement can be equated with a lack of change in positional vectors over time; the definition of
[–PST] relations can be equated with the lack of a positional vector altogether; and so on. Thus, the
features can be used to bridge the gap between the concrete (measurable, literal) and the abstract
(metaphorical), a very important objective in semantic analysis.
18 Chapter One
The vector components for space include values of length, width and depth although spatial relations
do not always refer to all three components. For example, a region may be viewed as a surface in
examples like They are on the lawn, where the depth of the lawn is not relevant. On the other hand,
a region can also be viewed as an area of three dimensional space in examples like They are in the
lawn, where the depth is relevant. Compare also They are on the bed and They are in the bed; Look
at the smudge on the mirror and Look at your reflection in the mirror; The ants are on the floor and
The termites are in the floor.
1.3 SOME BASIC FEATURE DISTINCTIONS.
Within the compass of positional relations, languages make a fundamental distinction between
relations that involve three dimensions and those that do not, e.g., in English, the difference between
in and on. We will specify this distinction as first and second order positional arguments as
follows:12
(39) [±FIRST ORDER] ([±FST]).
a. [+FST]: Thematic relations which are [+PST, +FST] express relationships relative
to a point, line or surface. Depth is not involved so that “surface” refers to a region
with only length and width.
Examples: on the table, off the table, at the door; on Tuesday, at six o’clock.
b. [–FST] (SECOND ORDER): Thematic relations which are [+PST, –FST] express
relationships relative to volume. Depth is involved so that “area” refers to a region
with length, width, and height; compare He is on the field (surface) versus He is in
the field (area).
Examples: in the room, out of the office; in March, (He never sees students)out of
office hours.
Within each of these categories, natural languages have positional markers to indicate whether there
is contact or lack of contact between the object and the location. If the location is a container, e.g.,
a building, then part of the container includes its interior space; hence, anything within that interior
space is viewed as being in contact with a part of the container. This detail, which we will discuss
in Chapter Two, is crucial to understanding the possible meaning of sentences like The balloon
floated around in the smoke–filled room and She put the (porcelain) elephant into her purse. We
will express the feature of contact with the following opposition:
Chapter One 19
(40) [±PROXIMAL] ([±PRX]).
a. [+PRX]: involving contact between the object and the location.
Examples: on the floor, in the drawer; on Tuesday, in March.
b. [–PRX]: not involving contact between the object and the location.
Examples: at the door, near his office; around noon, near July 4.
The precise definition of expressions like near, close, by, etc. is complicated, involving both the size
and shape of the objects, their relative distance and other factors. Interestingly, propositions like
(41a) and (41b) can be more easily specified by representations like (42a) and (42b), respectively,
than a proposition like (43) which contains no overt comparison.
(41) a. X is nearer to Y than Z is.

b. X is further from Y than Z is.
(42) a. LESS (DISTANCE (x,y), DISTANCE (y,z))

b. GREATER (DISTANCE (x,y), DISTANCE (y,z))
(43) X is near Y.
On the other hand, it seems that (43) does contain a comparison to some established norm for a
given speaker. Accordingly, Miller and Johnson–Laird (1976: 392) offer the following conditions
to characterize “near”:
(44) NEAR (x,y): A referent x is “near” a relatum y if:
a. GREATER (NORM (DISTANCE (y)), DISTANCE (x,y))

b. SEPARATE (x,y)
c. not (IN (x,y) or IN (y,x))
where NORM (DISTANCE (y)) yields a norm, which is a distance that includes the region
of the relatum, that is, the area surrounding the relatum within which interactions with the
relatum are possible.
Essentially, then, X (a referent) is near Y (a relatum), if X and Y are not in contact (separate), if
neither is in the other, and if the distance of X from Y is within a norm. Thus, an arbitrary object
like a chair (a relatum in the above), given its size and shape, is surrounded by a space (region). If
some other arbitrary object like a lamp is within that space, it can be said to be near the chair.13
20 Chapter One
Thematic relations that are [+PST, ±FST, ±PRX] do not necessitate motion, although motion is
possible, e.g., He walked out of his office versus He is out of his office. Such an option is not
available with all positional markers. For example, positional uses of to typically involve movement
of some kind (cf. He has never been to Europe, where the use of to necessitates interpreting been
as gone). Positional uses of to without movement as in They stood back to back are less common.
Turning to expressions indicating GOAL, SOURCE, and LOCATION, there are four basic relations
to be described: motion to (She went into the office), motion away (She went out of the office),
location in (She is in the office), and location away (She is out of the office). Of the four, the last is
the most difficult to describe because it specifies a place both where some entity is not currently
located and where that same entity was either previously located or otherwise might be expected to
be located. Generally, one would say She is out of the office only to a person who expected her to
be in the office. Similarly, in This wine is from Italy, the wine is not in the locale in Italy where it
was made but at one time must have been; in All of the smoke is out of the house, we infer that the
smoke was in the house previously. Thus, expressions of location–away specify both a current
separation and some sort of prior connection so that some lapse of time must have occurred even
though no movement is expressly indicated.
Significantly, all expressions of motion also have both a separative and connective component
although in common usage only one is generally mentioned (She walked out of the office): it is
impossible to move away from some location without simultaneously moving to some other
location, and vice versa. Again, some time lapse has occurred between the two positions involved
in the movement. On the other hand, expressions of location–in (She is in the office) do not
necessarily involve any lapse of time or any movement or change in position. They are thus the least
complex of the four basic relations. Lastly, notice that thematic markers generally have both
motional and nonmotional uses, for example, from can be used with a motion verb (She moved from
Detroit) or a location verb (She is from Detroit), in can be used with a motion verb (She went in the
office) or a location verb (She is in the office), etc.
We can account for the above facts with two feature oppositions, CONJUNCTURAL ([±CNJ]) and
DISJUNCTURAL ([±DSJ]). DISJUNCTURAL relations ([+DSJ]) specify a place or places from
which one or more entities have moved (She went out of the office; They walked away from their
desks) or are somehow dislocated (She is out of the office; They are away from their desks).
NONDISJUNCTURAL relations ([–DSJ]) do not involve these situations; motion to a place (She
went in the office; They walked to their desks) and location in a place (She is in the office; They are
at their desks) are both [–DSJ]. Therefore, [+DSJ] relations are those which encode a separation
over time, either as the result of an expressed movement (She went out of the office) or an inferred
movement (She is out of the office).
CONJUNCTURAL relations ([+CNJ]) specify a place or places to which one or more entities have
moved (She went in the office; They walked to their desks) or where one or more entities were
formerly located or otherwise might be expected to be located (She is out of the office; They are
away from their desks). NONCONJUNCTURAL relations ([–CNJ]) do not involve these situations;
motion from a place (She went out of the office; They walked away from their desks) and location
Chapter One 21
in a place (She is in the office; They are at their desks) are both [–CNJ]. Therefore, [+CNJ] relations
are those which encode some sort of connection over time, either as the result of an expressed
movement (She went in the office) or an inferred movement (She is out of the office).
Given these definitions, from is a marker of [+DSJ] relations, while in is a marker of [–DSJ]
relations. Thus, these two interacting feature oppositions, [±CNJ] and [±DSJ], can be used to
account for the differences between movement and rest in space or time as follows:
(45) INVOLVING EXPRESSED MOVEMENT:
a. [–DSJ, +CNJ]: involving expressed movement toward one or more locations in space
or time, the SOURCE location being unspecified or not mentioned:
Examples: He went as far as/up to the river; He’ll be here until/up to Friday.
b. [+DSJ, –CNJ]: involving expressed movement away from one or more locations in
space or time, the GOAL being unspecified or not mentioned:
Examples: He left from Detroit; He’s been here since Easter.
(46) NOT INVOLVING EXPRESSED MOVEMENT:
a. [–DSJ, –CNJ]: not involving expressed movement and relating to one or more
locations, specifically the place(s) where some object(s) is/are located:
Examples: He is in Europe; The meeting is in June.
b. [+DSJ, +CNJ]: not involving expressed movement and relating to one or more
locations, specifically the place(s) where some object(s) is/are not located any
longer. Temporal examples like out of season are uncommon.14
Examples: He is away from his desk, out of the office.
More formally, we may view the features [±DSJ] and [±CNJ] as interacting in the following way.
A vision system takes a picture of two separate objects (O1,O2) at one time (Tk) and records a
positional feature vector for each object, V(O1,Tk) and V(O2,Tk) where the vector components
include values on the three coordinate axes (x,y,z) within the visual field. The same vision system
takes a picture at a second, later time (Tn) and records a second positional feature vector for each
object, V(O1,Tn) and V(O2,Tn).
Borrowing the terms from Miller and Johnson–Laird (1976) discussed above, for illustrative
purposes let us consider O1 the referent. Generally, this is an object which is capable of moving or
being moved. Let us also consider O2 the relatum. Given only one time reference, e.g., Tk or Tn, we
express the location of the entity as ["DSJ, "CNJ].15 A specification that is [–DSJ, –CNJ] indicates
22 Chapter One
where the referent is located (The president is in the country); a specification that is [+DSJ, +CNJ]
indicates where the referent is not located (The president is out of the country).
Given two temporal references, a wide variety of other conditions are possible. For our purposes,
the following four conditions are the most relevant:
(47) If V(O1,Tk) … V(O1,Tn) or V(O2,Tk) … V(O2,Tn), k<n, then movement has occurred, a
condition we express by the feature constellation ["DSJ, –"CNJ].
a. A decrease in the Euclidean distance between the referent and the relatum is
expressed by the feature constellation [–DSJ, +CNJ]. If V(O1,Tk) … V(O1,Tn) and
V(O2,Tk) = V(O2,Tn), then O1 has moved toward O2.
b. An increase in the Euclidean distance between the referent and the relatum is
expressed by the feature constellation [+DSJ, –CNJ]. If V(O1,Tk) … V(O1,Tn) and
V(O2,Tk) = V(O2,Tn), then O1 has moved away from O2.
(48) If V(O1,Tk) = V(O1,Tn) and V(O2,Tk) = V(O2,Tn), k<n, then no movement has occurred, a
condition we express by the feature constellation ["DSJ, "CNJ].16
a. If the relatum is used to specify the place where the referent is located, we have
[–DSJ, –CNJ], e.g., He is in the pool, He is near the pool.
b. If the relatum is used to specify the place where the referent is not located, we have
[+DSJ, +CNJ], e.g., He is out of the pool, He is away from the pool.
Notice that, for movement to occur, at least two locations are required. In ["DSJ, –"CNJ] relations,
only one location need be mentioned; the other is implied and could be mentioned (He departed
from the city (for the country)). However, in [+DSJ, +CNJ] cases, any second implied location
cannot be mentioned unless a coordinating conjunction or comma intonation is used between the
two, otherwise, the object appears to be in two places at once:
(49) a. *It is now off the wall on the table.

b. It is now off the wall and on the table.
The last feature opposition to be presented in this section is one needed to capture the distinction
between pinpointed and widespread positional expressions, e.g., on versus over, and in versus
throughout. We therefore add (50).
Chapter One 23
(50) [±EXTENSIONAL] ([±EXT])
a. [+EXT]: expressing extent in space or time.
Examples: over the floor, all around the house; over the weekend, all during
February.
b. [–EXT]: not expressing extent in space or time.
Examples: on the horse, in the box; on Monday, in July.
When [+EXT] and ["DSJ, "CNJ] co–occur in the specification of a thematic relation, it becomes
possible for that relation to be associated with motion verbs such as dance, wander, work, play, etc.
The feature set [–EXT, "DSJ, "CNJ] refers to one internal or external location (where an object is
or is not, e.g., He is in/out of town). On the other hand, [+EXT, "DSJ, "CNJ], which emphasizes
an extent of space, refers to many such internal or external locations, as in The children are sleeping
in the house. Since more than one location, i.e., many points in an expanse, is explicit in this
constellation of features, motion verbs can be used: The children are playing in the house.
Therefore, two possibilities exist.
First, when a relation is defined by the features ["DSJ, "CNJ, –EXT], it can only co–occur with
stative verbs. Second, when a relation is defined by the features ["DSJ, "CNJ, +EXT], it can
co–occur with either stative verbs used in an expanse (over versus on, around versus in, etc.) or
nonstative verbs:
(51) a. The food is on the floor.

ON is [–DSJ, –CNJ, –EXT]
b. The food is all over the floor. (The food covered the floor.)
OVER is [–DSJ, –CNJ, +EXT]
c. The children were playing all over the playground.

OVER is [–DSJ, –CNJ, +EXT]
Notice that we do not distinguish the use of over in (51b) and (51c); both are [–DSJ, –CNJ, +EXT]
since an expanse is covered and no specific direction or orientation is involved. The distinction
between the two examples derives from the verb: be is stative; play is nonstative.
In contrast to this, the co–occurrence of ["DSJ, –"CNJ] with either [+EXT] or [–EXT] always
indicates the actual performance, experience or avoidance of movement as we have seen. Therefore,
we can make the following basic distinctions:
24 Chapter One
(52) a. [+STATIVE] = ["DSJ, "CNJ, –EXT] (nonmotion)
b. [±STATIVE] = ["DSJ, "CNJ, +EXT] (nonmotion or motion without specific

orientation)
c. [–STATIVE] = ["DSJ, –"CNJ, $EXT] (motion with specific orientation)
Notice that, when movement occurs, the orientation of movement is specified by the values for
[±DSJ] and [±CNJ]. If they have the same value (52b), then there is no specific orientation; if the
values are different (52c), then there is specific orientation, namely, SOURCE orientation ([+DSJ,
–CNJ]) or GOAL orientation [(–DSJ, +CNJ]). These interacting features will allow us to generalize
the uses of thematic markers when they spread over both stative and nonstative relations in
semantically very complex prepositions like over, which I will discuss in the Section 1.14.
As a further illustration of the above differences, consider German prepositions like an, auf, hinter,
in, etc., which can be used with both the dative and the accusative. There are difficulties with
characterizing the two uses in terms of a simple location versus motion analysis. Haider (1985)
characterizes the dichotomy as local (for the dative) versus directional (for the accusative). He
provides (Page 82) examples like the following:
(53) a. Sie tanzten in diesem Saal.

they danced in the–dative ballroom
‘They danced in this ballroom.’
b. Sie tanzten in den Saal.

they danced into the–accusative ballroom
‘They danced into this ballroom.’
(54) a. Sie schwammen nur an diesem Ufer.

they swam only at this–dative bank
‘They only swam at this bank.’
b. Sie schwammen an dieses Ufer.

they swam to that–accusative bank
‘They swam to that bank.’
Smith (1993) also argues against the traditional location versus motion analysis offering other
examples like the following:
(55) a. Wir wanderten in den Bergen.

we wandered in the–dative mountains
‘We wandered (around) in the mountains.’
Chapter One 25
b. Wir wanderten in die Berge.

we wandered in the–accusative mountains
‘We wandered into the mountains.’
Making use of the distinctions described above, we can accommodate the German data by saying
that the accusative is used prototypically for [–DSJ, +CNJ, $EXT] (nonstative) relations, and the
dative is used prototypically for [–DSJ, –CNJ, $EXT] (stative or nonstative) relations. The former
feature cluster expresses ILLATIVE and ALLATIVE relations; the latter, LOCATIVE and
ADESSIVE relations. Thus, the prepositions an, auf, hinter, in, etc., express [–DSJ, "CNJ, $EXT]
relations. Further, these relations may or may not involve contact ([±PRX]) and confinement
([±FST]).
A summary of examples of the positional, non–temporal thematic relations is given in Figures One
and Two, which contain new category labels to represent finer distinctions than those generally
available in the literature (e.g., ILLATIVE and ALLATIVE instead of GOAL; ELATIVE and
ABLATIVE instead of SOURCE). Most of the names for these relations derive from the case
designations used in grammars of languages like Finnish. Consider the following examples adapted
from Eliot (1890: 131–162) and Olli (1958: 129–149):17
(56) a. LOCATIVE (Finnish inessive case; Eliot 1890: 139).

Mies istuu tuvassa.
man sits in the hut
‘The man sits in the hut.’
b. ABSENTIVE (no corresponding case in Finnish).
c. ILLATIVE (Finnish illative case; Eliot 1890: 145).

Merimies putosi veteen.
sailor fell into the water
‘The sailor fell into the water.’
d. ELATIVE (Finnish elative case; Eliot 1980: 144)

Mies lähti tuvasta
man went out of the hut
‘The man went out of the hut.’
e. ADESSIVE (Finnish adessive case; Olli 1958: 145)

Tyttö oli kaivolla
girl was at the well
‘The girl was at the well.’
26 Chapter One
f. ABESSIVE (Finnish abessive expresses nonpositional relations; Olli 1958: 149).

Olen rahatta
I am without money
‘I have no money.’
g. ALLATIVE (Finnish allative case; Olli 1958: 147)

Menen kaivolle
I go to the well
‘I am going to the well.’
h. ABLATIVE (Finnish illative case; Eliot 1890: 145).

Merimies putosi laivalta.
sailor fell from the ship
‘The sailor fell from the ship.’
Figure One contains examples of relations that are [+PST, –TMP, +PRX]; Figure Two contains
those that are [+PST, –TMP, –PRX]. In both figures, notice that English frequently neutralizes
features so that the same preposition is used throughout a row. This is, in fact, one of the
motivations behind the feature system proposed here. One needs to be able to both pinpoint and
generalize prepositional usage as we noted in the Introduction. In some instances, there are fine
distinctions available: in, on, over, throughout, etc. In others, the same preposition marks a wide
range of themes, e.g., from and to. Notice, in particular in Figure Two, that the sentence The planes
flew away from the clouds has two distinct meanings. As an example of ABESSIVE4, the planes
are maintaining their flight pattern so that they are away from the clouds, whereas the same sentence
as ABLATIVE4 means that the planes are flying in a direction away from the clouds. As we will
see throughout this discussion, different languages instantiate the features in different ways. Further,
it is doubtful that any one language will have a different marker for each of the thirty–two cells in
Figures One and Two, particularly when the temporal dimension is included. Still, the present
system does not appear to be overly specified, since it is possible to find many examples of the
individual thematic relations we have discussed across a wide variety of the world’s languages.
Chapter One 27
FIGURE ONE: PROXIMAL POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS ([+PST, –TMP, +PRX])
–EXT +EXT
+FST –FST +FST –FST
–DSJ LOCATIVE1 (LOC1) LOCATIVE2 (LOC2) LOCATIVE3 (LOC3) LOCATIVE4 (LOC4)

–CNJ on, on top of in, within over, on in, through(out)
He was on the horse. He was in the pool. The hay was over the There was smoke
field. throughout the house.
+DSJ ABSENTIVE1 (ABS1) ABSENTIVE2 (ABS2) ABSENTIVE3 (ABS3) ABSENTIVE4 (ABS4)

+CNJ off, off of out of off, off of out of
He was off the horse. He was out of the pool. The hay was off the The smoke was out of
field. the house.
–DSJ ILLATIVE1(ILL1) ILLATIVE2 (ILL2) ILLATIVE3 (ILL3) ILLATIVE4 (ILL4)

+CNJ on, onto into, in over, on into, through(out)
He got on the horse. He jumped into the He put hay over the He got smoke
pool. field. throughout the house.
+DSJ ELATIVE1 (ELA1) ELATIVE2 (ELA2) ELATIVE3 (ELA3) ELATIVE4 (ELA4)

–CNJ off, off of, from out of, from off, off of, from out of, from
He got off the horse. He jumped out of the He took the hay off the He got the smoke out
pool. field. of the house.
FIGURE TWO: NONPROXIMAL POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS ([+PST, –TMP, –PRX])
–EXT +EXT
–DSJ ADESSIVE1 (ADE1) ADESSIVE2 (ADE2) ADESSIVE3 (ADE3) ADESSIVE4 (ADE4)

–CNJ near, at near, at along, near, at among, amid
He was near the horse. The balloon was near The signs were along The planes were/flew
the ceiling. the road. amid the clouds.
+DSJ ABESSIVE1 (ABE1) ABESSIVE2 (ABE2) ABESSIVE3 (ABE3) ABESSIVE4 (ABE4)

+CNJ away from, from away from, from away from, from away from, from
He was away from the The balloon was away The signs were away The planes were/flew
horse. from the ceiling. from the road. away from the clouds.
–DSJ ALLATIVE1 (ALL1) ALLATIVE2 (ALL2) ALLATIVE3 (ALL3) ALLATIVE4 (ALL4)

+CNJ to, toward to, toward along, near among, amid
He walked toward the The balloon floated He put the signs along The planes flew
horse. toward the ceiling. the road. toward the clouds.
+DSJ ABLATIVE1 (ABL1) ABLATIVE2 (ABL2) ABLATIVE3 (ABL3) ABLATIVE4 (ABL4)

–CNJ away from, from away from, from away from, from away from, from
He walked away from The balloon floated He put the signs away The planes flew away
the horse. away from the ceiling. from the road. from the clouds.
28 Chapter One
1.4 MOVEMENT AND NONMOVEMENT.
Given the interacting features described above, we have a simple and elegant definition of
movement and nonmovement: movement or nonstativity is represented by the cluster (57a);
nonmovement or stativity by (57b).18
(57) a. ["DSJ, –"CNJ] (MOVEMENT; NONSTATIVE RELATIONS)
b. ["DSJ, "CNJ] (NONMOVEMENT; STATIVE RELATIONS)
In addition, the relationship between movement and nonmovement can be expressed in the formula
(58), where the arrow denotes entailment, that is, the feature cluster on the left of the arrow entails
or reduces to the feature cluster on the right.
(58) ["DSJ, –"CNJ, $PRX] | ["DSJ, "CNJ, $PRX]
This equation, which I will call NONSTATIVE REDUCTION (NSR), generalizes the following:
|
|
(59) a. [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX] [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]
ILLATIVE LOCATIVE
|
|
b. [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX] [+PST, +DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]
ELATIVE ABSENTIVE
|
|
c. [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX] [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX]
ALLATIVE ADESSIVE
|
|
d. [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX] [+PST, +DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX]
ABLATIVE ABESSIVE
Thus, a sentence like He went into the building yesterday entails that He was in the building
yesterday; one like He went out of the building yesterday entails that He was out of the building
yesterday. Similarly, as we will see, a sentence such as He entered the building yesterday entails
that He was in the building yesterday while He exited/left the building yesterday entails that He was
out of the building yesterday. Such entailments are crucial to the appropriate understanding of
discourse even in simple examples like The police entered the building and found the victim in the
bathroom, where one knows that the bathroom is in the building and that the police went into the
bathroom.
Further, given the above feature space, we can distinguish the meanings of a marker like from in (60)
by their feature specifications given respectively in (61).
Chapter One 29
(60) a. He ran FROM his office.

b. He is FROM New York.
c. He worked FROM dawn until dusk.
d. He died FROM overexposure.
(61) a. [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –TMP] (SOURCE OF MOVEMENT)

b. [+PST, +DSJ, +CNJ, –TMP] (SOURCE AT REST)
c. [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +TMP] (TEMPORAL SOURCE)
d. [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] (CAUSE)
One can see from (61) that the preposition from in English has the primary feature specification
[+DSJ] whether the relation is concrete ([+PST]) or abstract ([–PST]). In fact, I am not aware of any
uses of from which are not [+DSJ]. This might, of course, be considered an accident if the only
data available were the examples in (60). However, as before, we find similar groupings of thematic
relations expressed by the same marker in many languages. In short, the feature system we have
proposed is highly predictive. In moving from language to language, say from Sanskrit to Finnish,
one expects that thematic markers will not be distributed haphazardly, that individual grammatical
cases, for example, will mark relations that have a semantic commonality. As we saw at the
beginning of this chapter, the ablative is the from–case in those Indo–European languages which
have an ablative. Thus, one finds that the ablative marks similar semantic relations in the various
daughter languages which retain the ablative, and, when a particular language has lost the ablative
as a result of syncretism (Kury»owicz 1964: Chapter VIII), there is order to the manner in which
those relations are distributed over the remaining grammatical cases.
In English, from is the unmarked preposition for [+DSJ] relations, that is, from introduces all [+DSJ]
expressions unless the grammar contains a specific statement to the contrary. Although all uses of
from in English are [+DSJ], notice that the reverse is not true, that is, that all [+DSJ] relations in
English are always and only introduced by from. In this regard, English is typical. Certain
constructions in individual languages are often introduced by specialized markers. For example,
although AGENT is a [+DSJ] relation, being the source of an activity, the AGENT phrase is
signaled in the passive in English with the preposition by as in He was killed by a dog. We
characterize this use of by as “marked” since the expected [+DSJ] preposition from is not used. In
Italian, on the other hand, the AGENT in the passive is signaled by the same preposition that is used
for other [+DSJ] relations; hence, the use is “unmarked.” Consider the following (dal = da + il
‘from the’):
(62) a. Il meccanico ha riparato la macchina.

the mechanic has repaired the car
‘The mechanic has repaired the car.’
b. La macchina è stata riparata dal meccanico (AGENT).

the car has been repaired by the mechanic
‘The car has been repaired by the mechanic.’
30 Chapter One
(63) a. Giovanni èsce dal negozio (SOURCE).

Giovanni comes from the store
‘Giovanni is coming from the store’
b. Giovanni trema dal freddo (CAUSE).

Giovanni trembles from the cold
‘Giovanni is trembling from the cold’
Since the feature [+DSJ] is common to all the English examples in (60), we can now understand how
one preposition can be used to express different thematic relations. We do not have to list from in
the lexicon with verbs like free, depart, prevent, steal, etc. or adjectives like free, absent, distinct,
etc. or nouns like freedom, separation, absence, etc. The lexicon specifies that all these words have
a [+DSJ] meaning so the unmarked disjunctural preposition from introduces their complements. As
we will see in the next chapter, we will be able to predict when of shows up instead of from, e.g.,
The dictator stripped/deprived/robbed the people of their rights. Similarly, if a [+DSJ] relation is
also [+FST] or [–FST], we will be able to predict that off and out of occur as alternatives to from,
e.g., It fell off/from the table and He took the money out of/from the safe.
Further, we can use feature oppositions like [±DSJ] to organize the lexicon into synonyms and
antonyms. For example, in English we have adjectives like apart, detached, different, distinct,
isolated, removed, separate, etc., all of which are [+DSJ] and take complements introduced by from.
Their opposites, akin, attached, close, comparable, identical, related, similar, etc. are [–DSJ] and
take complements introduced by to. This is an important achievement descriptively since it accounts
for the concerns of predictability and expectation raised at the beginning of this chapter. The fact
is that speakers can make very good guesses about the meaning of an unknown lexical item from
the prepositions it constructs with.
There are also syntactic consequences of the above characterization. If a verbal occurs as the
complement of a [+DSJ] predicate, then the verbal must be the gerund and not the infinitive since
the bare verb cannot follow prepositions other than to in English (I will discuss examples like He
will do anything except sing in Chapter Seven, Page 477 ff.). Compare the following:
(64) a. We discouraged him from going.

b. *We discouraged him from (to) go.
(65) a. He died from smoking.

b. *He died from (to) smoke.
(66) a. We encouraged him to go.

b. *We encouraged him to going.
(67) a. He is dying to smoke.

b. *He is dying to smoking.
Chapter One 31
Figures One and Two reveal an important advantage to having two interacting features ([±DSJ] and
[±CNJ]) with two values (plus and minus) to account for positional relations; specifically, it affords
us a simple way of accounting for the many markers that spread over both STATIVE and
NONSTATIVE relations. For example, from is either [+DSJ, +CNJ], that is, stative, as in He is from
Detroit, or [+DSJ, –CNJ], that is, nonstative, as in He moved from Detroit. Using "–notation, we
can generalize this as [+DSJ, "CNJ].
A possible system which begins with primitive categories (or features) like STATIVE or MOTION
and then attempts to categorize predicates in terms of these primitives cannot be generalized to cover
the range of markers found with those predicates without adding essentially redundant categories
(or features) to separate SOURCE and GOAL. A marker like from is essentially separative, i.e.,
[+DSJ], however one wishes to label this; it is not essentially either a marker of motion or a marker
of nonmotion. Thus, English from is [+DSJ, "CNJ]. Interestingly, English to is not essentially
[+CNJ]; rather, its basic feature is [–DSJ]. There are LOCATIVE uses (It is stuck to the wall, They
are cheek to cheek) and ADESSIVE uses (His back is to the wall, They stood to one side, It lies to
the north), i.e., to is [–DSJ, "CNJ]. We find similar data in other languages. In French, for
example, en is also used for [–DSJ, "CNJ] expressions: aller en France (‘go to France’), entrer en
ville (‘go into town’), vivre en Angleterre (‘live in England’).
Nonetheless, MOTION is often assumed to be a semantic primitive. For example, Jackendoff (1976,
1983, 1993) analyzes motional predicates in terms of the primitive semantic function GO, and Miller
and Johnson–Laird (1976) posit the primitive predicate TRAVEL. In his arguments for not reducing
GO to the inchoative of BE, Jackendoff (1993: 94) has this to say: “The third argument for the
nonreducibility of GO to INCH BE is that motion must be a primitive in spatial cognition anyway
– we can perceive an object as in continuous motion without knowing anything about the endpoints
of its motion” [italics mine]. But this observation does not compel us to treat MOTION or GO as
a primitive; in fact, the notation used here, ["DSJ, –"CNJ], is intended to mean exactly what
Jackendoff observes, namely, motion with unspecified direction.19
In general, thematic markers in the world’s languages have both stative and nonstative uses, and are
not primarily associated with either motion or nonmotion though this certainly does occur.
Crucially, even when this does occur, the relations are still best expressed along the lines of Figures
One and Two, that is, in terms of contrasting features [±DSJ, ±CNJ]. For example, as we have seen,
many German prepositions (an, auf, hinter, in, etc.) are used with the accusative case for nonstative
relations and the dative case for either stative or nonstative relations. As we have seen, this means
that the accusative is associated with [–DSJ, +CNJ, $EXT] and the dative with [–DSJ, –CNJ,
$EXT]. Generalized, these prepositions express [–DSJ, "CNJ, $EXT] relations.
It is not difficult to find similar data supporting our hypothesis in languages very different from
English typologically. For example, Japanese uses the postposition ni for LOCATIVE,
ADESSIVE, ILLATIVE, and ALLATIVE relations (data from Yukari Mori, a native speaker;
personal communication):
32 Chapter One
(68) a. Hon–ga tsukue–ni aru. LOCATIVE

book desk be
‘The book is on the desk.’
b. kyaku–ga genkan–ni iru. ADESSIVE

guest door be
‘The guest is at the door.’
c. Mary–wa ie–ni kakekonda. ILLATIVE

Mary house ran
‘Mary ran into the house.’
d. Mary–wa Tokyo–ni itta. ALLATIVE

Mary Tokyo went
‘Mary went to Tokyo.’
In the present feature system, these uses are generalized by the feature constellation [+PST, –DSJ,
"CNJ, $PRX]. The same group of thematic relations are expressed in Newari by one grammatical
case, the locative. Consider the following:
(69) a. Safu tebal–e du LOCATIVE

book table is
‘The book is on the table.’
b. Jĩ lukha–e dan~ ADESSIVE

I door stood
‘I stood at the door.’
c. Jĩ sima–e gay~ ILLATIVE

I tree climbed
‘I climbed (into) the tree.’
d. Jĩ Nepal–e wana. ALLATIVE

I Nepal went
‘I went to Nepal.’
In both Japanese and Newari, finer distinctions can be made with the use or addition of other
markers with more circumscribed feature distinctions. For example, in Newari, one can stress the
ILLATIVE relation by saying ‘to the inside of’ (dune ‘inside’); one can stress LOCATIVE by saying
‘to the top of’ (dyane ‘top’). In Finnish and Estonian, as we have noted, there is a separate
grammatical case for LOCATIVE, ADESSIVE, ILLATIVE, ALLATIVE, ELATIVE, and
ABLATIVE relations; correspondingly, these languages have fewer prepositions than a language
like English or German.
Chapter One 33
What we do not find in natural language are examples where markers are confined to motion or
nonmotion and within each category have both DISJUNCTURAL and CONJUNCTURAL
meanings, that is, a marker that means either ‘motion to’ or ‘motion from,’ or one that means either
‘rest in’ or ‘rest out of.’ For these reasons, concepts like STATIVE are derivative, not primitive,
in the system described here.
1.5 NEGATION AND CAUSATION.
Observe that most positional markers do not have absolute opposites in negation. A pair such as
on/off or in/out of is atypical: if something is not on something else, then it is off it; if something
is not in something else, then it is out of it. For example, This vase was not on the table this morning
means ‘This vase was off the table this morning.’ The exact location of the vase is unimportant;
whether it was near the table, away from the table, or in the closet, it was still off the table.
Conversely, This vase was not off the table this morning means that it was on it.
The same complete antithesis is not found in other apparent opposites, e.g., into/out of, or to/from,
or onto/off of. Thus, This vase was not put onto the table does not mean that the vase was taken off
the table; John did not go to New York does not mean that John went from New York. Despite this,
pairs like to/from are considered opposites in some sense which must be made clear.
Given that positional markers like on/off represent feature clusters, their relationship can be encoded
into the following simple equation:
(70) not ["DSJ, "CNJ] = [–"DSJ, –"CNJ]
This equation is realized in examples like the following:20
(71) a. (It is) not on the table. = (It is) off the table.
b. (It is) not off the table. = (It is) on the table.
The existence of (70) suggests that a language might dispense with specific markers for either
[–DSJ, –CNJ] or [+DSJ, +CNJ] relations. Since each group is the negative of the other, a language
with a negator like not could get along with only one. Rather than saying off, for example, one
would say not on. In fact, that is correct. Newari does not have any grammatical case distinctively
representing [+DSJ, +CNJ] relations; such relations are generally expressed by [–DSJ, –CNJ] (the
locative case) and a negative element. Stative uses of English off and from are generally expressed
in Japanese as negatives of the postposition ni ‘in, to.’ Even in English, temporal examples with off
or out of are very hard to think up; they are generally expressed by negatives of on and in, e.g., he
was not here on Monday/in March.
Turning to nonstative positional relations, one would expect to find (72).

34 Chapter One
(72) not ["DSJ, –"CNJ] = [–"DSJ, "CNJ]
But (72) is wrong because it asserts that the “a” and “b” examples in the following should be
synonyms:
(73) a. He did not go into the building.

b. He went out of the building.
(74) a. He did not exit the building.

b. He entered the building.
The explanation of this apparent contradiction derives from NSR (58). Nonstative positional
relations like ILLATIVE and their corresponding predicates like enter entail relations like
LOCATIVE and predicates like be in. In other words, ILLATIVE is the causative of LOCATIVE,
and enter is the causative of be in. The negatives of nonstative relations and predicates negate the
causation itself, not the particular type of transition (into versus out of). Thus, he did not enter the
building means ‘he did not cause himself to be in the building’ not ‘he caused himself to be out of
the building.’ The negative of (58) is therefore (75).21
(75) not ["DSJ, –"CNJ, $PRX] | not ["DSJ, "CNJ, $PRX]
Specifically, we have reductions like (76) and (77).
(76) not [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX] | not [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]
not ILLATIVE not LOCATIVE
not enter not be in
(77) not [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX] | not [+PST, +DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]
not ELATIVE not ABSENTIVE
not exit not be out
Thus, He did not go into the building yesterday and He did not enter the building yesterday both
entail that He was not in the building yesterday; He did not go out of the building yesterday and He
did not exit/leave the building yesterday both entail that He was not out of the building yesterday.
Alternatively, (75) can be stated as (78).
(78) not ["DSJ, –"CNJ, $PRX] | [–"DSJ, –"CNJ, $PRX]
Note that the negativity on the right side of the arrow is now accounted for by reversing the feature
values for [±DSJ] and [±CNJ]. Thus, (76) and (77) become (79) and (80), respectively.
Chapter One 35
(79) not [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX] | [+PST, +DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]
not ILLATIVE ABSENTIVE
not enter be out of
(80) not [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX] | [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]
not ELATIVE LOCATIVE
not exit be in
Given (75) or (78), there can be no nonstative counterpart of (70), i.e., (72) does not exist. Only
(75) and (78) are relevant in formal semantic descriptions of thematic relations.
1.6 NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS.
The most obvious positional features that have nonpositional correlates are the four DSJ/CNJ pairs
of Figures One and Two. Certain nonpositional thematic relations are viewed by speakers as
involving a conjunction (to and into), others a disjunction (from and out of), and still others a
combination of disjunction and conjunction (off and away) or lack of both (on and in). Accordingly,
the same prepositions that occur in the positional relations show up in the nonpositional ones. We
have very clear–cut examples like (81) though (84).
(81) a. He turned the car into an alley. [+PST]

b. He turned the car into a collector’s item. [–PST]
(82) a. He leaned against them. [+PST]

b. He fought against them. [–PST]
(83) a. They roamed about the city. [+PST]

b. They talked about the city. [–PST]
(84) a. They live by water. [+PST] or [–PST]

b. They travel by water. [+PST] of [–PST]
1.7 GENERAL HYPOTHESIS.
Suppose we adopt the hypothesis that nonpositional thematic relations are metaphors for their
positional counterparts. That is, a [+PST, +DSJ] theme expresses literal (measurable) separation,
whereas a [–PST, +DSJ] theme expresses figurative separation. A theme like SOURCE is [+PST,
+DSJ]; one like CAUSE is [–PST, +DSJ]. Similarly, a [+PST, –DSJ] theme expresses literal
(measurable) union, whereas a [–PST, –DSJ] theme expresses figurative union. Thus, GOAL is
[+PST, –DSJ]; EXPERIENCER is [–PST, –DSJ].
36 Chapter One
In addition, suppose we hypothesize that causation is a metaphor for movement, the former
expressed as (85a), the latter as (85b).
(85) a. [–PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ] (causation)

b. [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ] (movement)
These hypotheses require that we examine metaphor at the level of the proposed features, since the
categories themselves are nothing more than abbreviations for features. Before we can do this,
however, there are a number of semantic distinctions involving possession that must be considered.
The importance of possession to any analysis of thematic relations will become clear as we proceed.
Basically, it can be summarized as follows: the central relation in [+PST] themes is LOCATION.
The [–PST] counterpart of this is POSSESSION. In short, possession is a metaphor for location, just
as causation is a metaphor for movement. For this reason, a verb like have or give can sometimes
be used in the answer to a question about location. Compare (86) and (87).22
(86) a. Where are the keys?

b. They are on the table./I put them on the table.
(87) a. Where are the keys?

b. Mary has them./I gave them to Mary.
1.8 EXPRESSIONS OF POSSESSION.
As we saw above (see Page 33), stative positional predicates are subject to the equation (70),
repeated here as (88) with the examples (89).
(89) a. It is not on the table. = It is off the table.

b. It is not off the table. = It is on the table.
Equation (88) states that stative relations are absolute opposites. The examples in (89) are of stative
positional relations. The same equation (88) also holds for stative nonpositional relations, at the
crux of which are all of the expressions which indicate possession such as the following:
(90) The POSSESSIVE/NONPOSSESSIVE NONPOSITIONAL relation.
a. POSSESSION OF SOMETHING
He is a man with ambition.

He has ambition. (=He doesn’t lack ambition.)
He is ambitious.
Chapter One 37
b. POSSESSION OF THE LACK OF SOMETHING
He is a man without ambition/with no ambition.

He has no ambition.
He is unambitious.
c. NONPOSSESSION OF SOMETHING
He is not a man with ambition.

He does not have ambition. (=He lacks ambition.)
He is not ambitious.
d. NONPOSSESSION OF THE LACK OF SOMETHING
He is not a man without ambition/with no ambition.

He doesn’t have no ambition.
He is not unambitious.
Expressions of possession occur in a variety of forms in the world’s languages, and there are many
idiosyncrasies. Nonetheless, possessive systems generally involve two distinctions: alienable
versus inalienable possession and possession versus nonpossession.
1.8.1 INALIENABLE AND ALIENABLE POSSESSION.
The first distinction concerns the type of object possessed. Inalienable possession is the possession
of relatively permanent, intrinsic objects or attributes (e.g., one’s children, one’s blue eyes, one’s
ambition); whereas, alienable possession refers to the possession of relatively transient and extrinsic
objects or attributes (e.g., one’s home, one’s money).
A discussion of this distinction for linguistic purposes requires establishing a frame of reference; in
particular, to understand how alienable versus inalienable objects and attributes are treated in the
world’s languages, we must suspend such modern wonders as cosmetic surgery, artificial
insemination, genetic engineering, and the like. In general, we must view objects such as children
and attributes such as blue eyes as relatively permanent and intrinsic (natural) “possessions.” This,
despite the fact that sentences like (91) are certainly possible.
(91) a. I sometimes have a son. (= ‘Actually, I always have a son, but only on occasion does
he behave as I think a son should’ or ‘Actually, I don’t have a son, but there is a male
who sometimes behaves in such a way that I seem to have a son’).
b. I often have blue eyes (when I remember to put in my colored contact lenses).
38 Chapter One
Given a world where examples like (91) are understood as requiring special circumstances, we can
proceed.
Although inalienable possessions tend to be intrinsically and permanently acquired, their most
important feature is that they are not reciprocally transferable, that is, their acquisition does not
require a corresponding loss from the giver. To see this, compare the following:
(92) a. Bob sold the book to Joe.

entails: Joe has the book, and Bob does not have the book.
b. Joe bought the book from Bob.

entails: Joe has the book, and Bob does not have the book.
(93) a. Joe taught French to Bob.

entails: Bob knows French, and Joe knows French.
b. Bob learned French from Joe.

entails: Bob knows French, and Joe knows French.
The difference between (92) and (93) is that the examples in (92), in their literal uses, involve
reciprocal transfer, which we define as “the physical relocation of an object from one entity to
another, so that the recipient or place of destination gains what the giver or place of origin loses”
(cf. Schank’s PTRANS in (36f)). On the other hand, the examples in (93) do not involve the
transference of an object from one location to another. In teaching someone French, one helps
another to know French, but in the process one does not lose one’s own knowledge of the language.
Thus, in nonreciprocal transfer, the entity which is the SOURCE of the transfer (Joe in (93)) does
not lose what the entity which is the GOAL of the transfer (Bob in (93)) gains. This distinction
between reciprocal and nonreciprocal transfer arises directly out of the alienable/inalienable
distinction.
In general, one can possess objects or attributes either inalienably or alienably, as follows:23
(94) a. INALIENABLE: Generally animate objects like next of kin, body parts, etc.;
intrinsic characteristics like eye color, skin color, nose shape, language, etc.
Included here also are certain gradable and complementary variations. For example,
a rubber band has the inalienable characteristic of elasticity which means it can, as
part of its intrinsic nature, have more than one shape.
b. ALIENABLE: Generally inanimate objects like books, cars, money, etc.;

non–intrinsic characteristics like being penniless, drugged, etc.
Of these types of “possessions,” the only ones that are reciprocally transferred are alienable objects.
Consider the following:
Chapter One 39
(95) a. Sue gave Joe a five dollar bill.

b. Sue gave Joe a bloody nose/a black eye/a headache.
c. Sue gave Joe her baby for adoption.
The giver (Sue) becomes dispossessed of an object or attribute only in (95a). In (95b), the giver
does not transfer something from herself, but does cause it to arise in the recipient. In (95c), the
giver does not cease to be the baby’s natural mother, only the baby’s custodial parent.
1.8.2 POSSESSION AND NONPOSSESSION.
The second distinction that is important in any discussion of possession is the distinction between
actual possession and nonpossession, despite the fact that the same markers are usually used for both
in the world’s languages (English preposition of, Japanese postposition no, Latin genitive case, etc.).
Discourse involves understanding that a statement like John lacks ambition is a remark about
something that John does not possess; similarly, that a statement like John sold the car to Mary,
reveals that John no longer possesses the car. The stative pair have/lack are absolute opposites; the
nonstative pair buy/sell are not.
Possession and nonpossession are categorized as stative nonpositional relations and follow (88).
In short, both positional and nonpositional stative relations behave in the same way with regard to
negation: they form absolute opposite pairs and follow (88). We have positional pairs like be on/be
off and nonpositional pairs like have/lack and remember/forget.
Nonstative relations do not behave in this manner, as we have seen. The generalization in positional
themes discussed in Section 1.5 (Page 33) extends to nonpositional themes. Just as the pairs in (73)
and (74) are not synonyms, the following are not synonyms:24
(96) a. He didn’t sell the car.

b. He bought the car.
The reason the sentences in (96) are not synonymous is the same as before: there is no nonstative
counterpart to (88). Rather, sentences like those in (96) must be related via NSR.
Part of the meaning of the verb own is expressed in the feature cluster [–DSJ, –CNJ]; own is like
have, be in/with, and Latin inesse (see Endnote 20). Sell is ["DSJ, –"CNJ]; its subject, the
SOURCE of the transaction [+DSJ, –CNJ], reduces to the NONPOSSESSOR [+DSJ, +CNJ]. If one
negates sell, as in (96a), the reverse reduction occurs, i.e., the SOURCE remains the POSSESSOR
[–DSJ, –CNJ]. Buy is also ["DSJ, –"CNJ]. However, its subject is the GOAL of a transaction
[–DSJ, +CNJ], so that it becomes the POSSESSOR [–DSJ, –CNJ] as a result of the transaction.
Given these remarks, both transactions in (96) reduce to the same state: he has possession of the car.
In short, the themes that express possession and transference of possession parallel the positional
relations.
40 Chapter One
1.9 THE METAPHORICAL USES OF THE FEATURES.
I have argued above that the nonpositional thematic relations are metaphors for their positional
counterparts. To repeat, a [+PST, +DSJ] theme expresses literal (measurable) separation, whereas
a [–PST, +DSJ] theme expresses figurative separation. A theme like SOURCE is [+PST, +DSJ];
one like CAUSE is [–PST, +DSJ]. Similarly, a [+PST, –DSJ] theme expresses literal (measurable)
union, whereas a [–PST, –DSJ] theme expresses figurative union. Thus, GOAL is [+PST, –DSJ];
EXPERIENCER is [–PST, –DSJ].
Since themes are nothing more than abbreviations for feature constellations, we must ground
metaphorical uses in the features themselves. Generally speaking, it is not difficult to imagine how
a connection can be made by speakers between, say, a positional GOAL like he turned the car into
an alley and a nonpositional GOAL like he turned the car into a collector’s item. However, we
would like to be more specific about the connection to strengthen the argument. This is the subject
of the next four subsections.
1.9.1 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±PROXIMAL].
Among positional relations, the feature opposition [±PRX] separates those themes that involve
contact from those that do not. Given the preceding discussion of possession, suppose we equate
inalienable possession with [–PST, +PRX] and alienable possession with [–PST, –PRX].
Inalienably possessed objects and attributes are not reciprocally transferrable; they remain
permanently “attached” to the possessor. On the other hand, alienably possessed objects and
attributes are reciprocally transferrable; their attachment to the possessor is not necessarily
permanent. Thus, the metaphorical extension of proximal is based on some perceived similarity
between actual physical proximity between two objects, as in the book is on the desk/the book is
near the lamp, and figurative proximity, as in she has brown eyes/she has brown shoes.
1.9.2 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±DISJUNCTURAL]/[±CONJUNCTURAL].
Turning to the features [±DSJ] and [±CNJ], recall that their positional definitions can be verified by
a perceptual system (man or machine). For example, a robotic eye can take a picture of two objects
at two different times. If the distance between the two changes, then one of the situations in (47)
has occurred. If the distance remains unchanged, then either of the situations in (48) obtains.
The metaphorical uses of these features cannot involve simple visual verification. An expression
like He died from emphysema cannot be comprehended with simple visual inspection. Still,
emphysema must somehow be viewed as the SOURCE of death. As we have noted, if we do not
connect CAUSE with SOURCE then we have no explanation for why the same marker is used for
the two relations: the prepositions from in English, da in Italian, and aus in German; the ablative
case in Latin, Sanskrit, and Turkish; the nasal case ending in Newari (see Chapter Four, Page 299
ff.); the postposition kara in Japanese; etc. In language after language, we see the nonpositional
Chapter One 41
(metaphorical) themes expressed by the same markers used to express their positional (literal)
counterparts. Our proposal, therefore, is that a theme like CAUSE is an abbreviation for [–PST,
+DSJ, –CNJ,...], meaning that it involves a disjunction but one that is metaphorical ([–PST]) rather
than literal ([+PST]).
The distribution of thematic markers in a wide variety of languages supports the hypothesis that
languages dichotomize nonpositional themes into two main groups that parallel positional themes.
Basically, the division separates SOURCES and GOALS. We see this dichotomy in the sharp
division between the uses of the ablative versus the dative cases in Sanskrit, the prepositions from,
out of and by versus to, into and for in English, the postpositions kara versus ni in Japanese, as well
as the uses of cases in languages as diverse as Finnish and Newari. Before we turn to the specific
evidence, let us consider the thematic relations involved. First, given the distribution of thematic
markers in a variety of languages, the metaphorical disjunctions or SOURCES which we propose
include the following:25
(97) EFFECTIVE (EFC): The animate being, missile, or force typically perceived as bringing
about the action identified in the predicate (variously called AGENTIVE, AGENT, and
FORCE).
BILL killed the bug./The bug was killed BY BILL.

THE BOULDER totaled the car./The car was totaled BY THE BOULDER.
THE TORNADO destroyed the crops./The crops were destroyed BY THE TORNADO.
(98) COMPOSITIONAL (CPS): The entity, materials, or condition out of which something is
composed; related to INALIENABLE POSSESSION, that is, the properties gained or the
materials used become intrinsic and relatively permanent possessions or attributes.
They crafted the vase OUT OF/FROM SILVER.

The cabinets are made OF/FROM WOOD.
The oak grew OUT OF/FROM AN ACORN.
(99) EXPEDIENTIAL (EXP): The means by which something is done.
We went BY CAR.
BY COUNTING TO TEN, she manages not to abuse the kids.
(100) CAUSAL (CAU): The entity which expresses the cause of the action or state identified in
the predicate.
He died FROM SMOKING./He died OF CANCER.

He collapsed FROM THE HEAT.
He acted OUT OF/FROM GUILT.
42 Chapter One
(101) EFFERENTIAL (EFR): The quasi–positional entity from which an action emanates.
Often called SOURCE by others.
John received/bought the car FROM BILL.

BILL gave/sold the car to John.
(102) ORIGINATIVE (ORG): The entity, materials, or condition out of which something is
transformed; related to ALIENABLE POSSESSION, that is, the properties gained or the
materials used tend to involve relatively transient and extrinsic possessions or attributes.26
He got himself OUT OF DEBT.

He detoxed FROM HEROIN.
He made a showplace OUT OF HIS HOUSE.
(103) DIFFERENTIAL (DIF): The degree of difference expressed in a contrast.
He won BY A MILE.
They are distinguished BY MANY CHARACTERISTICS.
(104) DELIMITIVE (DEL): Delimitive themes specify the condition(s) from which something
results; hence, they are classified as [+DISJUNCTURAL].27 Most delimitive expressions
in English are clauses introduced by if.
His sister will care for his children, IF HE DIES.

IN THE EVENT OF HIS DEATH, his sister will care for his children.
He works well UNDER PRESSURE./He works well IF HE IS PRESSURED.
The markers for the above DISJUNCTURAL relations in a variety of languages are often strikingly
consistent, and this fact is the primary motivation for placing all of the above relations in the same
group ([+DSJ, –CNJ]). Languages with case systems frequently express both literal and
metaphorical disjunctions with the same case, a fact that we will examine in detail in Chapter Four.
We saw some examples at the beginning of this Chapter with the Indo–European ablative case.
Considering a broader spectrum of uses, in Latin, we will see that all of the above DISJUNCTURAL
themes are marked by the ablative (specific examples are discussed below in Chapter Four, Page 293
ff.). This generalization must be accounted for by an adequate theory of grammar, particularly since
it extends to languages that are not historically related. For example, in Newari, all but one of the
above DISJUNCTURAL relations are marked by a nasal case ending (see Chapter Four, Page 299
ff.). In Finnish (Eliot 1890; Olli 1958) and Estonian (Oinas 1966), all SOURCES, both metaphorical
and literal, are marked by the elative and ablative cases. In Japanese, the principal marker for
DISJUNCTURAL relations is the postposition kara (see Chapter Four, Page 300 ff.). In English,
which separates DISJUNCTURAL relations into several subclasses, the markers are the prepositions
from, out of, and by.
Chapter One 43
The metaphorical conjunctions or GOALS which we propose include the following:
(105) AFFECTIVE (AFC): The animate or inanimate entity directly affected by the state or
action identified in the predicate. Variously called EXPERIENCER or DATIVE by others.
John is nice/mean/helpful to SUE.

JOHN feels that Bill will win.
John killed BILL./BILL died.
John melted THE ICE./ THE ICE melted.
He put the money IN HIS POCKET.
(106) RESULTATIVE (RES): The entity or condition into which something is transformed;
related to INALIENABLE POSSESSION, that is, the properties gained or the materials
used become intrinsic and relatively permanent possessions or attributes.
The wove the straw INTO BASKETS.

THE BASKETS were made out of straw.
She baked (the ingredients into) A CAKE.
The acorn grew INTO AN OAK.
He invented THE TELEPHONE.
John became A TEACHER.
(107) REFERENTIAL (REF): The person or thing in reference or relation to which something
occurs.
John will always be a hero TO BILL (AS FAR AS BILL IS CONCERNED).

A term paper is optional FOR UNDERGRADUATES.
He is smart FOR HIS AGE.
Bill is a stickler FOR DETAILS.
(108) CONSECUTIVE (CNS): The result or consequences of an action or state.
He became too sick TO/FOR WORK.

He became so sick THAT HE COULDN’T WORK.
It’s too early FOR DINNER.
He has enough qualifications/qualifies FOR THE JOB.
(109) AFFERENTIAL (AFR): The quasi–positional entity to which an action is directed. Often
called GOAL by others.
Bill sold the car TO JOHN./Bill sold JOHN the car.

JOHN received/bought the car from Bill.
He gave a new coat of paint TO THE HOUSE./He gave THE HOUSE a new coat of paint.
44 Chapter One
(110) TERMINATIVE (TRM): The entity or condition into which something is transformed;
related to ALIENABLE POSSESSION, that is, the properties gained or the materials used
tend to involve relatively transient and extrinsic possessions or attributes.
He came INTO A FORTUNE./He became WEALTHY.

He got himself INTO DEBT.
He turned his house INTO A SHOWPLACE.
He washed his car CLEAN.
(111) BENEFACTIVE (BEN): The entity, usually animate, for whose benefit or on whose
behalf the action or state identified in the predicate occurs (see below, Endnote 32).
Bill bought a gift FOR JOAN/bought JOAN a gift.

JOAN was bought a gift by Bill.
(112) PURPOSIVE (PUR): The entity which specifies the reason or purpose for the action or
state identified in the predicate.
They trained him FOR THE JOB/TO DO THE JOB.

He entered the competition FOR THE MONEY/TO GET MONEY.
They dug a hole FOR WATER/TO GET WATER.
She jumped FOR JOY.
They rewarded him FOR HIS RESEARCH.
Paralleling the DISJUNCTURAL relations, languages mark the above CONJUNCTURAL relations
with a distinct marker or set of markers. In languages with a case system, metaphorical GOALS are
most often marked by the same case. This is true generally of the dative case in Indo–European (for
examples in Latin, see Allen and Greenough 1930: 224–239; for Sanskrit, see Whitney 1955:
386–387), as well as the dative in Turkish (Lewis 1967: 36–37 and 87–89) and the illative and
allative in Finnish (Eliot 1890: 145–149 and 155–156 ). In English, the most common prepositions
marking [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] relations are to (AFFECTIVE and AFFERENTIAL), into
(RESULTATIVE and TERMINATIVE) and for (REFERENTIAL, CONSECUTIVE,
BENEFACTIVE and PURPOSIVE). In Japanese, as we have seen, the postposition ni is used for
[+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] relations; it also has many [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] uses, such as the following
(examples from Yukari Mori, personal communication, and Yasutake 1995):28
(113) John–ni tennis–ga tanoshii. AFFECTIVE

John tennis enjoyable
‘To John, tennis is enjoyable./John enjoys tennis.’
(114) John–wa Mary–ni hon–o yatta. AFFERENTIAL

John Mary book gave
‘John gave the book to Mary.’
Chapter One 45
(115) John–wa sensei–ni natta. RESULTATIVE

John teacher became
‘John became a teacher.’
John–ga musuko–o isha–ni sita. RESULTATIVE

John son doctor made
‘John made his son a doctor.’
(116) Sono eiga–wa dai–hyooban–ni natta. TERMINATIVE

that movie big–popularity became
‘That movie became very popular.’
John–ga kuruma–o kirei–ni aratta. TERMINATIVE

John car clean washed
“John washed his car clean.’
(117) Mary–ni eigo–ga hanas–eru. REFERENTIAL

Mary English speak–can
‘Mary can speak English.’
(118) John–wa Mary–ni hon–o katteyatta. BENEFACTIVE

John Mary book bought
‘John bought the book for Mary.’
(119) Mary–wa America–ni benkyoo–ni iku. PURPOSIVE

Mary America studying goes
‘Mary is going to America for studying.’
Data such as that presented above, which we will investigate in more detail as we proceed, strongly
suggest that languages, in general, dichotomize SOURCES and GOALS into two distinct groups
each indicated by a distinct marker or set of markers. Further, languages spread these markers over
both POSITIONAL (literal) and NONPOSITIONAL (metaphorical) themes. Given that, we are able
to generalize the groups as follows:
(120) LANGUAGE MARKER TYPE SOURCES GOALS
Latin case ablative dative

Finnish case ablative and elative allative and illative
English preposition from, out of, and by to, into and for
Japanese postposition kara ni
Note that Finnish and English regularly encode the [±PROXIMAL] distinction: the ablative and
allative cases in Finnish and the prepositions from and to in English are [–PROXIMAL], whereas
the elative and illative cases and the prepositions out of and into are [+PROXIMAL]. Latin and
46 Chapter One
Japanese, on the other hand, do not regularly encode the [±PROXIMAL] distinction, though that is
certainly possible in both languages. For example, in Latin, a POSITIONAL GOAL which is
[–PROXIMAL] can be expressed with the preposition ad ‘to’; one that is [+PROXIMAL] can be
expressed with the preposition in ‘into.’
There are, of course, deviations from the above generalizations which we will examine in due
course. For example, English marks EFFECTIVE and EXPEDIENTIAL themes with the
preposition by and REFERENTIAL, CONSECUTIVE, BENEFACTIVE, and PURPOSIVE themes
with for, specializations which we will account for in terms of features in Section 1.10.
Also, it appears that ancient Indo–European represents an interesting departure from the prevailing
tendencies in the way CONJUNCTURAL relations are marked. In Sanskrit, the accusative is the
case for the grammatical direct object, but it is also frequently found with verbs of going and
coming, both transitive and intransitive (Kurylowicz 1964; Whitney 1955); the dative, on the other
hand, is the case for the indirect object and the person affected, uses that are well documented in the
world’s languages (Van Belle and Van Langendonck 1996). Sanskrit has no real prepositions in the
modern sense (Whitney 1955: 414). Thus, there may have been a fundamental split between [+PST,
–DSJ, +CNJ] and [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] inherent in the parent language not unlike the distinction
between the locative and the dative cases in Newari discussed above (23).
In Latin, following the regular Indo–European model, the accusative is the case for the grammatical
direct object. The GOAL of motion is regularly expressed by prepositional phrases, the accusative
instances confined to place names only. The most frequent uses of the Latin dative parallel Sanskrit:
indirect object and person affected. However, there are uses of the dative as GOAL of motion,
particularly in poetry (cf. the oft–quoted example from Vergil, it clamor caelo (dative), ‘the shout
goes to heaven’). What I am suggesting is that the Latin positional dative (GOAL) may be a usage
derived from the inherited Indo–European nonpositional uses, a curious reversal of the prevailing
tendencies as I have described them here (for an excellent discussion and hundreds of examples of
the dative in Early Latin, see Bennett 1910). Ancient Greek parallels Latin. GOAL is regularly
expressed by prepositional constructions, the accusative used primarily as the case for the
grammatical direct object. But there are also uses of the dative as GOAL, again mainly confined
to poetry (Smyth 1956, Page 341, § 1475).
These departures do not conflict with the general hypothesis presented here, namely, that languages
frequently use the same markers for semantically similar positional and nonpositional relations. As
I have indicated at several points, an adequate theory of thematic relations must allow for specificity
as well as generality in the use of markers. The above comments regarding the dative in Latin and
Greek simply indicate a reversal of the analogies generally made. Usually, it is from positional to
nonpositional; however, in some instances, we seem to have the reverse.
To summarize, our central argument is as follows: if we do not say that the above two groups of
thematic relations share some kind of feature(s) in common, then we are forced to conclude that it
is an accident that the same marker or sets of markers (prepositions, postpositions, or grammatical
cases) show up repeatedly in the world’s languages to specify them. We propose that all SOURCES,
Chapter One 47
both metaphorical and literal share the features [+DSJ, –CNJ], and that all GOALS, both
metaphorical and literal, share the features [–DSJ, +CNJ]. The metaphorical uses are [–PST]; the
literal ones, [+PST].
1.9.3 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±EXTENSIONAL].
Among positional relations, extensional themes ([+PST, +EXT]) express widespread location in
space or time, while nonextensional themes ([+PST, –EXT]) do not. The metaphorical use of this
feature opposition finds expression in the division between themes that have widespread application
in sentence grammar ([–PST, +EXT]) and those with much more restricted application ([–PST,
–EXT]). The former have very free distribution and can generally be used in conjunction with
almost any predicate while the latter tend to be localized to specific predicates and to occupy
argument positions in syntax (subject, direct object, indirect object, etc.). For example, of the
themes mentioned in the preceding subsection, many regularly participate in subcategorization:
(121) a. John (EFFECTIVE) killed the bug (AFFECTIVE).

b. Harry (EFFERENTIAL) sold the car to Helen (AFFERENTIAL).
The verb kill, which involves the nonreciprocal transference of an inalienable attribute (death), is
subcategorized for EFFECTIVE (the SOURCE of the killing) and AFFECTIVE (the GOAL of the
killing).29 The verb sell, on the other hand, which involves the reciprocal transference of some
alienable object (the car in (121b)), is subcategorized for EFFERENTIAL and AFFERENTIAL.
As we will see in the chapters that follow, the choice between EFFECTIVE/AFFECTIVE themes
as opposed to EFFERENTIAL/AFFERENTIAL themes can be predicted from the nature of the
object transferred: inalienable in the former, alienable in the latter.
Other themes regularly do not participate in subcategorization; rather, they can be modifiers of
almost all predicates. Almost any action can have a purpose, cause, result, expedience, etc. Hence,
PURPOSIVE, CAUSAL, CONSECUTIVE, EXPEDIENTIAL, etc. themes are all [–PST, +EXT]
and generally serve as modifiers:
(122) John went to New York with Sue (COMITATIVE)/by car (EXPEDIENTIAL)/with great
expectations (CIRCUMSTANTIAL)/for a better job (PURPOSIVE)...
Notice that this reflects tendencies, not absolutes. Some predicates do subcategorize for extensional
themes. For example, verbs like meet allow COMITATIVE subjects: John and Bill met. However,
this use of the COMITATIVE theme is quite exceptional; generally, it is a predicate modifier. The
correct generalization appears to be that [–EXT] themes are always involved in verbal
subcategorization and therefore occur only in argument positions (subject, object, indirect object),
whereas [+EXT] themes can occupy either argument or modifier positions.
48 Chapter One
1.9.4 THE METAPHORICAL USE OF [±FIRST ORDER].
A summary of the nonpositional thematic relations discussed above is given in Figures Three and
Four, which contain the new category labels. These figures, together with Figures One and Two
above include all the thematic relations discussed thus far.
Notice that the positional relations in Figures One and Two that are [+PST, ±FST] refer to the
endpoints in any change of location, whether those endpoints terminate or originate in a point, line,
or surface ([+PST, +FST]) or within an area or volume ([+PST, –FST]). Phrases that specify [+PST,
+FST] relations are generally marked by prepositions like on, onto, off and off of when contact is
involved, and to, toward, from, and away from when contact is not involved. Such relations include
examples like He put the book on the table (ILLATIVE1; [–DSJ, +CNJ]), He took the book off the
table (ELATIVE1; [+DSJ, –CNJ]), He walked to/toward her (ALLATIVE1; [–DSJ, +CNJ]), and
He walked (away) from her (ABLATIVE1; [+DSJ, –CNJ]). Phrases that specify [+PST, –FST]
relations are generally marked by the prepositions into and out of when contact is involved, and, as
before, by the prepositions to, toward, from, and away from when contact is not involved. Such
relations include examples like He walked into the room (ILLATIVE2; [–DSJ, +CNJ]), He walked
out of the room (ELATIVE2; [+DSJ, –CNJ]), He moved toward the rear of the auditorium
(ALLATIVE2; [–DSJ, +CNJ]), and He moved away from the rear of the auditorium (ABLATIVE2;
[+DSJ, –CNJ]).
The metaphorical uses of these features, specified in the nonpositional themes in Figures Three and
Four, preserve this dichotomy. Relations that are [–PST, ±FST] mark the endpoints in a transfer of
possession whether those endpoints terminate or originate in a point, line, or surface ([–PST, +FST]
or in an area or volume ([–PST, –FST]). Examples involving [–PST, +FST] include to her
(AFFERENTIAL; [–DSJ, +CNJ]) in He gave the book to her and from her (EFFERENTIAL; [+DSJ,
–CNJ]) in He received the book from her. Examples involving [–PST, –FST] include He pounded
the facts into her and He wormed the facts out of her. Thus, the same set of markers used in various
[+PST, ±FST] relations are used in the corresponding [–PST, ±FST] relations.
Verbs of giving and receiving do not seem to occur with [–PST, –FST] markers like into and out of.
When the GOAL or SOURCE is a person or organization, verbs of giving like give, sell, grant,
present, donate, etc. cannot govern complements introduced by into, and verbs of receiving like
receive, buy, purchase, acquire, obtain, etc. cannot govern complements introduced by out of. There
are no sentences like *I gave the presents into them or *I received the presents out of them, most
probably because such statements suggest that the objects are entering and exiting the persons’
bodies (cf. the above examples He pounded the facts into her and He wormed the facts out of her).
On the other hand, verbs of transferring do allow [–FST] markers as in I deposited the money into
the bank and I withdrew the money out of the bank. But such examples are [+PST]: I deposited the
money right there into that bank where you told me to deposit it (cf. *I donated the money right
there to the city of Detroit where you told me to donate it).
The above discussion reveals that the endpoints in both [+PST] and [–PST] themes can involve
themes that are either [+FST] (toward the table, away from the table, to her, from her, etc.) or
Chapter One 49
[–FST] (into the room, out of the room, into the bank, out of the bank, into her, out of her, etc.). In
any change of location, [+PST, ±FST] relations refer to the endpoints of movement, with the
SOURCE and the GOAL marking the places of departure and destination, respectively. The
metaphorical uses of these features preserve this dichotomy. Relations that are [–PST, ±FST] refer
to the endpoints in any transfer of possession, with the SOURCE and the GOAL marking the giver
and the receiver, respectively.
Crucially, whether or not the phrases only express position, they entail that the entity that “moves”
between the SOURCE and the GOAL is at various times possessed by or contained in both. Thus,
in any kind of transfer, either location or possession, relations that are [±PST, +DSJ, ±FST] refer
to the SOURCE and those that are [±PST, –DSJ, ±FST] refer to the GOAL. Relations that are
[–PST, –FST] refer to the entity that undergoes the change in location or possession, that is, the
thing that “moves” from the SOURCE to the GOAL. In marking the endpoints in any transfer, the
extension to [–PST] relations seems most natural in the transference of alienable possessions. For
example, in He sold the book to her, the book (an instance of the ASSOCIATIVE theme expressing
an alienable possession; [–PST, –FST]) “moves” from his possession to her possession, that is,
between the two endpoints SOURCE and GOAL. As we will see in Chapter Two, this distinction
forms the basis of a typology of predicates that makes possible the reduction of all predicates to one
basic schema.
1.10 HOW MANY THEMATIC RELATIONS ARE THERE?
In both Figure Three and Figure Four, notice that the first two rows of the first column refer to the
possessor (POS), and that the first two rows of the second column refer to the possession. Thus, two
themes occur in a sentence like He is black: he is the inalienable possessor of the attribute black,
the inalienable possession. Similarly, in He has money, he is the alienable possessor of the money,
an alienable possession. In English, the possessor is generally the grammatical subject, and the
possession is generally the predicate complement (She is rich) or the direct object (She has money).
But, other constructions do occur: The money is hers, There’s a coat of Mary’s in the closet, That
is her wallet, etc.
In ancient Indo–European, the possessor was frequently put in the dative case, as in the Latin Liber
est mihi ‘the book is mine’ or literally ‘the book is to me.’ This is the same dative that shows up as
the indirect object of verbs of giving: Dabit librum mihi ‘he will give the book to me.’ Thus, there
is a direct connection between the receiver and possessor, on the one hand, and the giver and
nonpossessor, on the other. In this regard, in Figures Three and Four, notice that the first column
(all [–EXT, +FST] relations) are the endpoints of possession. These are themes that signify the
possessor, nonpossessor, receiver, or giver (causer). In Chapter Two, we will extend
NONSTATIVE REDUCTION (58) to nonpositional examples, accounting for the fact that He gave
the book to me entails or reduces to I have the book.30
50 Chapter One
FIGURE THREE: PROXIMAL NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS ([–PST, +PRX])
–EXT +EXT
–DSJ INALIENABLE ATTRIBUTIVE COMPARATIVE CIRCUMSTANTIAL

–CNJ POSSESSOR (ATT) with, of, in (CPR) like, with, to (CIR) with
(IPS) Ø Ed is a man with/of many He is similar to me. He does everything with
Ed knows the fears./Ed is fearful. He is like me. haste.
explanation.
+DSJ INALIENABLE NONATTRIBUTIVE NONCOMPARATIVE NONCIRCUMSTANTIAL

+CNJ NONPOSSESSOR (NATT) without, out of, (NCPR) unlike, from (NCIR) without
(NIPS) Ø from He differs from me. He does everything without
Ed doesn’t know the Ed is a man without any He is unlike me. haste.
explanation. fears./Ed is fearless.
–DSJ AFFECTIVE RESULTATIVE REFERENTIAL CONSECUTIVE

+CNJ (AFC) to (RES) into (REF) for (CNS) for
It was explained to Ed. Al fashioned the gold into For her, the price is He’s too ill for work.
a bracelet. right.
+DSJ EFFECTIVE COMPOSITIONAL EXPEDIENTIAL CAUSAL

–CNJ (EFC) by, from (CPS) out of, from (EXP) by (CAU) of, from
It was explained by Al. Al fashioned a bracelet out He got there by plane. He died of/from a
(explanations from Al) of the gold. mysterious disease.
FIGURE FOUR: NONPROXIMAL NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS ([–PST, –PRX])
–EXT +EXT
–DSJ ALIENABLE ASSOCIATIVE COMITATIVE INSTRUMENTAL

–CNJ POSSESSOR (ASC) in, with, of (COM) with (INS) with
(APS) Ø Ed is in debt. He’s a man He made the dinner with He built the fort with
Ed has a Volvo. with/of many debts. her. tools.
+DSJ ALIENABLE NONASSOCIATIVE NONCOMITATIVE NONINSTRUMENTAL

+CNJ NONPOSSESSOR (NASC) out of, without, (NCOM) without (NINS) without
(NAPS) Ø from He made the dinner He built the fort without
Al doesn’t have a Volvo. Ed is out of debt. He’s a without her. tools.
man without debts.
–DSJ AFFERENTIAL TERMINATIVE BENEFACTIVE PURPOSIVE

+CNJ (AFR) to (TRM) into (BEN) for (PUR) for
Al sold his Volvo to Ed. Al got Ed into debt. He did it for her. He learned Italian for fun.
He did it for laughs.
+DSJ EFFERENTIAL ORIGINATIVE DIFFERENTIAL DELIMITIVE

–CNJ (EFR) from (ORG) out of, from (DIF) by (DEL) under, if
Ed bought his Volvo Al got Ed out of debt. He won by a mile. He works well under
from Al. pressure.
Chapter One 51
Since the same marker is often used for different thematic relations across languages, one might
argue that, in fact, we are not dealing with separate themes at all and that the present system is
overly specified. But this is incorrect. Any particular constellation of relations that is expressed in
one language by one marker, may be distinguished by more than one marker in another language,
as we have seen. For example, while English uses to to mark the GOAL (of motion), the
RECIPIENT, and the EXPERIENCER, Newari marks GOAL with one case (locative) and
RECIPIENT and EXPERIENCER with another (dative). Similarly, although Japanese uses –ni to
mark GOAL, EXPERIENCER, RECIPIENT and BENEFACTIVE themes, English marks the first
three with to and the last with for. These overlaps and distinctions are the principal reason for
proposing a feature system like the one suggested here. For example, we can say that the unmarked
prepositions for all [+DSJ, –CNJ] relations in English are from ([–PROXIMAL]) and out of
([+PROXIMAL]); the use of by to indicate EFFECTIVE and EXPEDIENTIAL themes is a
idiosyncratic specialization for the features [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, +FST]. Similarly, we can
say that the unmarked prepositions for [–DSJ, +CNJ] relations in English are to ([–PROXIMAL])
and into ([+PROXIMAL]); the use of for to indicate REFERENTIAL, CONSECUTIVE,
BENEFACTIVE, and PURPOSIVE themes is an idiosyncratic specialization for the features [–PST,
–DSJ, +CNJ, +EXT].
Hale and Keyser (1993: 65) ask why there are so few thematic roles; they observe that most
proposals include only AGENT, EXPERIENCER, GOAL, SOURCE, LOCATION, THEME and
perhaps a few others. The answer to their question seems to be that most studies fail to compare the
breadth and variability of thematic relations across languages in the manner that we have done
above. Thus, the number only appears small. For example, given a system that contains
EXPERIENCER and GOAL but does not contain AFFERENTIAL (RECIPIENT) and
BENEFACTIVE, there is no way to account for the abovementioned data from English, Newari, and
Japanese without broadening and/or restricting the definitions of EXPERIENCER and GOAL as one
moves from language to language.
To be more specific, if there is no universal theme AFFERENTIAL to cover the to–phrase in an

English sentence like I gave the book to Bill, then presumably that phrase must be subsumed
somewhere under the putative list of universal themes. Let us say first that it is subsumed under the
thematic category GOAL, in which case a GOAL is defined as a place (I drove the car to New York)
or person (I gave the car to Bill) to which the action proceeds. But such a definition is inappropriate
for Newari as we have seen: motion to a place is always in the locative; motion to a person is
always in the dative. Even in English some kind of distinction is necessary to account for the fact
that we have He drove the car there but not *He gave the car there, and He gave Bill the book but
not *He drove New York the car. Thus, some other dimension for GOAL is necessary such as the
opposition [±POSITIONAL] that we have suggested. In short, we must distinguish [+PST] goals
and [–PST] goals since a uniform category GOAL by itself is insufficient.
Alternatively, suppose we say that AFFERENTIAL themes are subsumed under the category
AFFECTIVE, forming a universal supercategory AFFERENTIAL–AFFECTIVE, which we now
define as the person or thing internally or externally affected by the action in the verb. While this
might seem appropriate for many of the languages we have considered (see examples (14) – (22)),
52 Chapter One
such a conflation of categories is sometimes inappropriate. For example, there are several
prepositions in Danish and Swedish that mark a GOAL of various kinds, e.g., mod and til in Danish
and mot and till in Swedish. However, mod/mot do not have the same uses as til/till. The former
pair is generally used for the AFFECTIVE (internally affected) theme after adjective and participles:
ond mod and grym mot ‘cruel to,’ sød mod and trevlig mot ‘nice to,’ etc., while the latter pair is used
for the indirect object (AFFERENTIAL or externally affected theme):
(123) a. Hun skrev et brev til mig. (example from Allan et al. 1995: 422)
‘She wrote a letter to me.’
b. Skriv (ett brev) till mig. (example from Holmes and Hincliffe 1994: 397)
‘Write (a letter) to me.’
In short, without adding other dimensions or features to the small set of themes mentioned by Hale
and Keyser, we cannot account for the variations that exist across languages. Accordingly, a system
with a small number of atomic themes is forced to vary the definition of those themes in different
languages. Such variation runs counter to the spirit of work on the universal components of
language: categories cannot be universal if their definition varies from language to language.
As we have noted, the difficulty with most systems of thematic relations discussed in the literature
is that the categories are atomic. We should not expect any particular thematic relation in one
language to be defined by precisely the same feature values used in another, any more than we
expect such uniformity in syntax or phonology. For example, as we will see in Chapter Three,
determiners in English are [+PREHEAD, –POSTHEAD], meaning that they occur before and not
after the head noun. In Thai, determiners are [–PREHEAD, +POSTHEAD], signifying the reverse.
Thus, in the two languages, the syntactic category DETERMINER is not defined by the same values
for all features, though their function is the same, to specify a noun. Similarly, in semantics, it is
entirely possible that the precise feature specification for a thematic relation and its associated
thematic marker(s) will vary from language to language both synchronically and diachronically.
Our proposal is that the definition for each feature is constant (universal), but the organization of
the features into categories specified by individual or collective markers is not.
To take another related example, consider the use of the preposition for in English in examples like
the following where it marks both the BENEFACTIVE (for his dogs) and PURPOSIVE (for his
retirement) themes:31
(124) a. Bill built a house for his dogs (BENEFACTIVE).

b. Bill built a house for his retirement (PURPOSIVE).
A distinction between the two for–phrases above must be made somehow since only
BENEFACTIVE themes appear in the double object construction (Levin 1993: 45–49):
(125) a. Bill built his dogs (BENEFACTIVE) a house.

b. *Bill built his retirement (PURPOSIVE) a house.
Chapter One 53
Still, there is such a close connection between BENEFACTIVE and PURPOSIVE themes in so
many languages that it might seem appropriate to collapse them into one theme distinguished by
differences in the kind of complements they govern. For example, the complements of
BENEFACTIVE themes are generally animate, and the complements of PURPOSIVE themes are
generally inanimate. However, this distinction often breaks down: a sentence like (124a) can have
a PURPOSIVE reading such as He built a house to put his dogs in (cf. He built a shed for his tools).
Crucially, the PURPOSIVE reading is not possible in a double object construction like He built his
dogs a house, and we do not have *He built his tools a shed. Thus, we must make a distinction
between BENEFACTIVE and PURPOSIVE themes in English even though they are marked by the
same preposition.
Looking at the matter from a different perspective, we see that the double object construction is
possible for AFFERENTIAL themes as well as BENEFACTIVE themes:
(126) a. He gave the treats to his dogs (AFFERENTIAL).

He gave his dogs the treats.
b. He built the house for his dogs (BENEFACTIVE).

He built his dogs the house.
Levin 1993: 45–49 distinguishes the alternations in (126a) and (126b) probably because there are
two different prepositions involved. She labels the former the Dative Alternation and the latter the
Benefactive Alternation. However, despite the fact that there are two different themes, an adequate
feature system can collapse these themes into one category with the features [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ,
–PRX, +FST] (see Figure Four). Thus, for some purposes (the double object construction) we are
dealing with a supercategory AFFERENTIAL–BENEFACTIVE, while for other purposes (the
choice of markers to versus for), we are dealing with separate categories.32
We find similar issues in the distinction between COMITATIVE and INSTRUMENTAL themes.
In many historically unrelated languages, e.g., Finnish (Olli 1958: 148) and Tocharian (Beekes
1995:92), these two themes are specified by separate markers. In English, however, they are both
marked by the preposition with. Again, one might point to a distinction in the types of complements:
the complements of COMITATIVE themes are generally animate while those of INSTRUMENTAL
themes are generally inanimate suggesting that they too might be collapsed into one theme. But
again, this distinction breaks down in examples like the following:
(127) He broke into the vault with an accomplice.
a. He and an accomplice broke into the vault (COMITATIVE).

b. He used an accomplice to break into the vault (INSTRUMENTAL).
Again, there are syntactic consequences of the distinction between COMITATIVE and
INSTRUMENTAL themes which indicate that we are dealing with two separate themes even when
they are specified by the same marker. Thus, although (127) is ambiguous, the following questions,
54 Chapter One
which can both receive the answer with an accomplice, are not:
(128) a. Who did he break into the vault with? (COMITATIVE)

b. How did he break into the vault? (INSTRUMENTAL)
Consider also the following where the with–phrases, though thematically ambiguous, are intended
to represent the themes indicated (see Levin 1993: 64):
(129) a. John entered the vault with Mary (COMITATIVE).

b. John entered the vault with the nail file (INSTRUMENTAL).
(130) a. John and Mary entered the vault (together).

b. *John and the nail file entered the vault (together).
The above examples indicate that it is not possible to speak of a universal thematic category like
GOAL or EXPERIENCER or INSTRUMENT that always has the same definition and subsumes
the same set of expressions in all languages. Some other dimension is necessary to account for the
variations which exist; hence, the feature system we have proposed which distinguishes many more
possible thematic relations than the number usually mentioned.
As we saw in Figures One and Two, thematic relations like ILLATIVE and ALLATIVE are actually
categorial labels for constellations of semantic features. This is extended in Figures Three and Four.
For example, the commonality in ALLATIVE, AFFECTIVE, etc. is the feature [–DSJ]:
(131) a. He got to campus. ILLATIVE [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]

b. He ran to the dog. ALLATIVE [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX]
c. The drug is harmful to children. AFFECTIVE [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]
d. He gave the book to her. AFFERENTIAL [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX]
The commonality in ABLATIVE, EFFECTIVE (AGENT), etc. is [+DSJ]:
(132) a. He left from campus. ELATIVE [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]

b. He ran from the dog. ABLATIVE [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX]
c. He learned it from John. EFFECTIVE [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]
d. He took the book from her. EFFERENTIAL [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX]
Therefore, the use of one thematic marker (preposition, postposition, grammatical case, etc.) for a
variety of thematic relations can be attributed to the presence of some identical feature(s) in those
relations: the unmarked [–DSJ] preposition in English is to; the unmarked [+DSJ] preposition is
from. In the next chapter, we will see that this characterization accounts for the kinds of
prepositions which “surface” in alternative constructions like He presented it to them, He presented
them with it, He stripped it from them, He stripped them of it, etc.
Chapter One 55
1.11 THEMATIC AND ATHEMATIC ASPECTS OF PERCEPTION.
The semantic features we have discussed are based on visual data. It is clear that a complete
semantic system must also include information about other characteristics of objects, activities, and
events that humans can perceive such as auditory and olfactory characteristics. Even in the sphere
of vision, no mention has been made of color, shape, size, and many other visually verifiable
characteristics.33 Interestingly, none of these additional characteristics, which all normal humans
can perceive, seem to be encoded into thematic relations in the world’s languages. To see this,
consider the following variations on movement verbs:
(133) a. VELOCITY: rush, dash, ricochet, etc.

b. MEDIUM OF MOVEMENT: fly, soar, etc. (air); swim, wade, etc. (water); skip,
hop, etc. (land); tunnel, burrow, etc. (underground).
c. MECHANISM OF MOVEMENT: walk (on legs), crawl (on hands and knees), drive
(in vehicle), beam up (by a transporter), etc.
d. DIRECTNESS: mosey, roam, amble, etc.
e. RESISTANCE: plod, trudge, wade, etc.
f. AXIS OF ORIENTATION: climb, descend, lower, precede, follow, etc.
None of the parameters in (133) seem to be encoded into separate thematic relations in natural
languages. We do not find languages containing separate grammatical cases, say, for direct objects
of verbs of fast, unimpeded motion as opposed to verbs of slow, plodding motion. Even when a
language such as English does contain specific words to indicate parameters like the axis of
orientation (up, down, above, below, behind, before, etc.), such parameters are expressible
periphrastically in terms of the basic distinctions we have made, e.g., TO a higher position, IN a
lower position, FROM the front of, IN the back of, etc. Further, as we have seen, there are many
languages which make distinctions in features like [±PROXIMAL], e.g., ILLATIVE (into) and
ALLATIVE (to), but there do not seem to be any languages that express parameters like verticality
in separate grammatical cases.34 An interesting (though hardly scientific) fact is that grammars of
scores of unrelated languages contain descriptions of specialized constructions for expressions
denoting place whence, time when, purpose, agency, and the other thematic relations we have
considered. The same cannot be said of expressions denoting, say, motion upward in air as opposed
to motion downward in water. Such distinctions are generally expressed in the verb itself, e.g., soar,
dive, submerge, etc.
These remarks do not preclude the existence of a human language which might encode some of these
parameters, e.g., axis of orientation, into its set of thematic relations. There are certain phonological
features that are very common in the world’s languages like [±CONSONANTAL], [±VOICED], and
[±NASAL]. Other features are rarer, such as features of release and suction (see Chomsky and Halle
1968, Chapter Seven). In short, there is reason to believe that some semantic features will be
widespread in natural languages, others more language specific. The seven semantic feature
oppositions that we have proposed, [±POSITIONAL, ±TEMPORAL, ±DISJUNCTURAL,
±CONJUNCTURAL, ±PROXIMAL, ±FIRST ORDER, ±EXTENSIONAL], seem to be relevant to
define the thematic relations in a variety of languages. Whether or not features need to be added to
56 Chapter One
or removed from this inventory is entirely an empirical matter (in fact, in Chapter Five, I will
propose an eighth feature opposition, [±DIMENSIONAL]).
These facts suggest that we might formally distinguish between perceptible characteristics of
objects, activities, and events which are encoded in thematic relations (thematic characteristics), and
those which are not (athematic characteristics). Thematic characteristics are represented here by
primitive semantic features which define the possible thematic relations that occur in natural
language. Characteristics involving sound, color, size, shape, verticality and the like are athematic.
Of course, there are verbs that incorporate such athematic characteristics: blare, sing, blacken,
blush, increase, elongate, square, climb, fall, and so on. But these athematic characteristics are not
organized into thematic relations, at least not in English or any of the languages we have
investigated here.35 To implement the expression of such athematic characteristics, we now turn our
attention briefly to the topic of semantic networks.
1.12 A PREVIEW OF SEMANTIC NETWORKS.
Although I will not discuss semantic networks in detail until Chapter Five, it is necessary at this
point to describe their basic purpose and structure. A semantic network is a database for storing and
retrieving information. As we noted in the last section, an adequate semantic theory must account
for distinctions in subcategorization that go beyond those represented by the thematic features we
have proposed. For example, there are predicates in English which are subcategorized for
distinctions relating to the axis of orientation: motion upward (rise), downward (drop), across
(transport), behind (follow), before (precede), above (hover), below (tunnel), etc.
The grammar which underlies the Langtech Parser mentioned in the Preface accounts for such
distinctions with a semantic network consisting of nodes which specify language independent “word
senses” or actual words and links which specify the relationship between nodes. In this book, word
senses are indicated by English words in uppercase type followed by a numerical suffix. Consider,
for example, the following simple network:36
(134) NODE ONE LINK NODE TWO
a. BIRD–1 ––IPS ––> BILL–1

b. BIRD–1 ––IPS ––> WING–1
c. BIRD–1 ––APS ––> NEST–1
d. BIRD–1 ––EFC ––> FLY–1
e. BIRD–1 ––EFC ––> LAY_EGGS–1
f. AIR–1 ––LOC2 ––> FLY–1
g. WING–1 ––INS ––> FLY–1
The above network encodes the fact that the language independent word sense BIRD–1, which
denotes the familiar animal (‘a member of the class Aves’), is the inalienable possessor (IPS) of
BILL–1 and WING–1 and the alienable possessor of NEST–1. Further, the network expresses the
Chapter One 57
information that BIRD–1 is an agent (EFC) of FLY–1 and LAY_EGGS–1, that AIR–1 is the place
(LOC2) in which FLY–1 occurs, and that a WING–1 is used in FLY–1. Thus, each link specifies
the thematic relationship that the node on the left has in relation to the node on the right. Specific
words like bird, nest, and air from specific languages are connected to one or more of the language
independent word senses. Thus, the English word bill is linked to BILL–1 in (134) ‘the jaws of a
bird,’ BILL–2 ‘a piece of paper money,’ BILL–3 ‘an itemized statement,’ and so on; the word fly
is linked to FLY–1 ‘to move through the air,’ FLY–2 ‘an insect,’ FLY–3 ‘a zipper,’ etc.
The links are “bidirectional” in the sense that the network can be traversed in both directions. For
example, (134a) expresses the fact that BIRD–1 is the inalienable possessor of BILL–1, as well as
the reverse, namely, that BILL–1 is inalienably possessed by BIRD–1.
The names for the word senses are arbitrary, resembling English words or phrases only for
expository purposes. Moreover, my choice of word senses tends to be nontechnical, e.g.,
LAY_EGGS–1 instead of OVIPOSIT–1 or OVIPARATE–1, even though the network does contain
technical information like the fact that birds are OVIPAROUS–1 (‘egg laying’). The definitions for
word senses, often given here enclosed in single quotes or in paraphrased form, are actually not used
in determining what a sentence means. In paraphrasing what a link means, I will often use ordinary
words, e.g., A bird is capable of flight rather than A BIRD–1 can effect FLY–1 since the latter is
cumbersome and unnecessarily cryptic. Technically, a word sense represents a conceptualization
of experience and denotes no more than the sum of all the links it has in the network; thus, a member
of the class BIRD–1 is, among other things specified in a complete network, something that has a
bill and a nest and is capable of flight and laying eggs. However, the system is not circular since,
it is assumed, many individual word senses will ultimately be connected to real world referents, e.g.,
an actual bird, a drawing or picture of a bird, and so on.
Notice that the theory of thematic relations we are developing affords us a way of grounding the
links in a semantic network to real word referents since all links are specified by thematic relations
which are nothing more than abbreviations for visually verifiable features. There is a direct path
from features like [+PST, –TMP, –DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, –FST, –EXT] to categories like LOCATIVE2
to links like those in (134f).
Further, the thematic relations we have proposed offer a richer way of encoding information than
the links which are found in many semantic networks described in the literature or available on–line.
For example, WordNet (Miller 1990, Miller and Fellbaum 1992) is basically driven by only a few
semantic relationships such as hyponymy/hypernymy (member/class links or ISA links) and
meronymy/holonymy (part/whole links or HASA links) like the following:37
(135) a. BIRD–1 ––ISA ––> ANIMAL–1

b. BIRD–1 ––HASA ––> WING–1
If one queries WordNet for a word such as bird one is given much useful information about what
a bird is (an animal, an organism, an entity, etc.), about the parts of a bird (feather, wing, bill, etc.),
and the like. Much of the information, though scientifically accurate, has little to do with the way
58 Chapter One
people categorize things. For example, discourse rarely involves mention of the fact that any
particular bird is a cuculiform bird because it has zygodactylic feet. On the other hand, a network
like (134) encodes information in the way people do. For example, it indicates what birds can do
and where. Additional links express what birds can experience (AFFECTIVE) and use
(INSTRUMENTAL), where they are found, what they eat, what color and size each specific bird
is, and so on. The availability of thematic links like AFFECTIVE and INSTRUMENTAL increases
the specificity of the connections in the network thereby constraining any particular search of the
network such as one that would be required to answer a question like How does a bird fly? A
network consisting of only ISA and HASA links lacks this advantage.
Searching the network to find appropriate relationships is a complex task. If a network is limited
to ISA and HASA links, then special classes have to be invented like THINGS_THAT_FLY and
THINGS_THAT_SWIM. When many such classes are included, it becomes difficult to constrain
a search along appropriate parallel links. Suppose, to take an illustrative example, one wished to
solve an analogy like the following by tracing parallel links in a semantic network:
(136) bird : fly :: fish :
If all the links are ISA and HASA links, the search algorithm has few “guidelines” to use. On the
other hand, a network like (134) makes parallel connections more apparent. Consider, for example,
an expanded network like the following, where TYP (for TYPOLOGICAL) is the name we will use
for ISA links):
(137) a. BIRD–1 ––TYP ––> ANIMAL–1

b. BIRD–1 ––IPS ––> WING–1
c. BIRD–1 ––EFC ––> FLY–1
d. AIR–1 ––LOC2 ––> FLY–1
e. WING–1 ––INS ––> FLY–1
f. FLY–1 ––TYP ––> LOCOMOTE–1
g. ANIMAL–1 ––EFC ––> LOCOMOTE–1
(138) a. FISH–1 ––TYP ––> ANIMAL–1

b. FISH–1 ––IPS ––> FIN–1
c. FISH–1 ––EFC ––> SWIM–1
d. BODY_OF_WATER–1 ––LOC2 ––> SWIM–1
e. FIN–1 ––INS ––> SWIM–1
f. SWIM–1 ––TYP ––> LOCOMOTE–1
The specificity of the above connections, stated in terms of a variety of thematic relations, facilitates
both the inclusion of information into a network and the retrieval of such information during a
search. In solving the illustrative analogy in (136), the system first finds the connection between
all the word senses attached to the word bird and all those attached to the word fish which point to
a common higher class. In the present instance, the word senses are BIRD–1 and FISH–1 which
point to the higher class ANIMAL–1. In the second step, the system finds all the word senses for
Chapter One 59
fly and ascertains which of these have a link to BIRD–1. In the present instance, it is FLY–1, as
opposed to FLY–2 or FLY–3 mentioned above, and the connection between BIRD–1 and FLY–1
is EFC. Next, the system searches for a similar connection to FISH–1, in particular, an EFC link
from FISH–1 to some word sense which, in turn, points to a common higher class to which FLY–1
also points. In the present instance, that is SWIM–1, which, together with FLY–1, points to
LOCOMOTE–1. Lastly, the system checks for an EFC connection between the two higher classes,
ANIMAL–1 and LOCOMOTE–1, and finding one, namely (137g), it concludes that the answer to
the analogy is SWIM–1, that is, the word swim.
Naturally, a full semantic network is considerably more complex that the simple one we have
described here, and we will return to these matters in greater detail in Chapter Five. For the present
purposes, given a full semantic network along the line of (134), (137), and (138), we can account
for athematic characteristics of verbal subcategorization with word senses like the following:
(139) a. SUPERIOR–1: at or toward a higher position on the vertical axis

b. INFERIOR–1: at or toward a lower position on the vertical axis
(140) a. ANTERIOR–1: at or toward a forward position on the horizontal axis

b. POSTERIOR–1: at or toward a rearward position on the horizontal axis
(141) a. INTERIOR–1: at or toward the center

b. EXTERIOR–1: at or toward the periphery
(142) a. RECTILINEAR–1: characterized by straight lines

b. CURVILINEAR–1: characterized by curved lines
(143) a. CONTINUOUS–1: characterized by unbroken succession

b. CIRCUITOUS–1: characterized by a meandering course
The English verb rise (‘ascend to a higher position’) has a link to RISE–1 which is further linked
to SUPERIOR–1; drop (‘descend to a lower position’) has a link to DROP–1 which is further linked
to INFERIOR–1; roam (‘wander about aimlessly’) is linked to ROAM–1 which is further linked to
CIRCUITOUS–1; and so on. Further, RISE–1 is linked to the thematic features [+PST, –DSJ,
+CNJ] indicating that RISE–1 is a motion verb with GOAL ORIENTATION. Thus, the actual
meaning of the word sense RISE–1 is nothing more than the sum of the links which RISE–1 has to
other nodes in the network. From these links, we derive the meaning of the word sense RISE–1:
it denotes upward motion toward a GOAL.
1.13 GENERALIZING MEANING: MOTION OVER AN EXPANSE.
In the feature system we have described, there is one important deviation from other recent work on
verbal semantics (Taylor, J. 1993; Jackendoff 1983, 1993; Blake, B. 1994). Specifically, the notion
PATH is not considered a primitive here, but rather a derived relation like MOTION and
60 Chapter One
CAUSATION. To see how this is achieved, let us consider Jackendoff’s description of PATH. In
Semantics and Cognition (1985, Pages 161–170), Jackendoff asserts that PATH may focus on
boundary, direction, or route and that each of these three parameters interacts with three other
parameters involving traversal, extension or orientation, for a total of nine combinations. His
definitions are given in (144) and (145).
(144) From Jackendoff (1983: 165).
a. Boundary: “the reference object or place is an endpoint of the path.”
b. Direction: “the reference object or place does not fall on the path, but would if
the path were extended some unspecified distance.”
c. Route: “the reference object or place is related to some point in the interior
of the path.”
(145) From Jackendoff (1983: 168).
a. Traversal: [THING] traverses [PATH].
b. Extension: [THING] extends over [PATH]; “the subject of the sentence is not
understood as being in motion.”
c. Orientation: [THING] is oriented along [PATH]; “the subject, if in motion, is

understood to be adopting an orientation, not traversing the path.”.
Given these definitions, Jackendoff (1983: 168) provides the following examples:
(146) Boundary:
a. Traversal: John ran into the house.
b. Extension: The highway extends from Denver to Indianapolis.
c. Orientation: The sign points to Philadelphia.
(147) Direction:
a. Traversal: The mouse skittered toward the clock.
b. Extension: The flagpole reaches (up) toward the sky.
c. Orientation: The house faces away from the mountains.
(148) Route:
a. Traversal: The train rambled along the river.
b. Extension: The sidewalk goes around the tree.
c. Orientation: The cannons aim through the tunnel.
Chapter One 61
Of these nine possibilities, Jackendoff’s three broad types (bounded, directional, route) seem to be
directly related to features described here. The difference between bounded paths and directional
paths is encoded in the distinction between [+PROXIMAL] and [–PROXIMAL], respectively.
Route type paths, which necessarily involve an expanse of space, are expressed by the feature
[+EXTENSIONAL]. Beyond this, it is not possible to associate Jackendoff’s description directly
with any one feature described here. The reason for that, I believe, is that notions like traversal,
extension and orientation are not primitive notions but complex, derived notions. In Chapters Two
and Four, I will show that all expressions of motion must be analyzed as involving both a SOURCE
and a GOAL implicitly even when not stated explicitly. In (146a) for example, John must be outside
of the house to begin with. Similarly, in John ran through the tunnel, a beginning point (SOURCE)
and an endpoint (GOAL) are both unspecified; in particular, John went from one end of the tunnel
to the other. Thus, PATH is implicit in every motion.
The difference between Jackendoff’s traversal and extension is that the former involves movement
at each point of the path while the latter does not, a distinction specified by the feature clusters in
(52). The oppositions are illustrated in the following:
(149) a. The boy ran from Troy [+DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX] to Detroit [–DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX].
b. The road extends from Troy [+DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX] to Detroit [–DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX].
Thus, traversal and extension do not need to be analyzed as primitive concepts; rather, they can be
derived from specific clusters of features described in the present system. This is important because
many verbs can express either traversal (movement over an expanse) or extension (nonmotion over
an expanse) as we saw in Endnote 19:
(150) a. The campers went (all the way) out of the city. go is [+DSJ, –CNJ, +EXT]
b. The road now goes (all the way) out of the city. go is [+DSJ, –CNJ,
+EXT]
(151) a. The campers went (all the way) into the country. go is [–DSJ, +CNJ, +EXT]
b. The road now goes (all the way) into the country. go is [–DSJ, +CNJ, +EXT]
We can express the uses of go in (150) and (151) with the feature cluster ["DSJ, $CNJ, +EXT], that
is, with only three primitives.
Orientation, mentioned briefly in connection with (52), will be described fully in Chapters Two and
Four, where a formal distinction is made between GOAL orientation ([–DSJ, +CNJ]) and SOURCE
orientation ([+DSJ, –CNJ]). Beyond this, we should note here that a thorough account of all the
possibilities is actually more complicated than the examples Jackendoff offers. Consider the
following where I make use of the finer distinctions in orientation described in the previous section:
(152) a. The house faces (toward) a cemetery. ANTERIOR–1

b. The seats in the stadium face (toward) the playing field. INTERIOR–1
c. The telescopes face (toward) the sky. SUPERIOR–1
62 Chapter One
Thus, the verb face can involve a variety of orientations derivable from the relative positions of the
objects involved, not the verb face itself. In (152a), the direction is toward something in the front
(ANTERIOR–1) since houses and cemeteries are oriented along the horizontal axis relative to each
other. In (152b), it is toward something in the center (INTERIOR–1) since the seats in a stadium
generally surround the playing field. In (152c), it is toward something above (SUPERIOR–1) given
the location of the sky relative to the earth.
To summarize, the feature system described here views all the following notions as derivative:
REST (NONMOTION), MOTION, POSSESSION, CAUSATION, PATH, TRAVERSAL,
EXTENSION (in Jackendoff’s sense), and ORIENTATION. The interactions of these distinctions
are illustrated in the next section which contains a partial specification for the very complex
preposition over.
1.14 LEXICAL SPECIFICATION OF MEANING.
The actual number of thematic markers (prepositions, postpositions, case endings, etc.) that occur
in any language is relatively small compared to, say, the number of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and
adverbs. Necessarily, this entails that the same marker will be used to express a large number of
relations. In English, prepositions like over and with are associated with many different themes.
The same can be said of the Japanese postpositions like –ni and –kara and of the individual cases
in Newari. We, therefore, need a way of generalizing the meanings, and the feature system we have
proposed accomplishes this. For example, the positional uses of the preposition over can be
described by the following generalized feature cluster:
(153) [+PST, –DSJ, "CNJ, +FST, ßEXT, (PRX]
In addition to the features specified in (153), it might appear that we must make use of concepts like
superiority to fully characterize the word over. This is correct, and discussions of over have
generally involved issues of verticality (Lakoff 1987: 418 ff.; Taylor, J. 1993: 167 ff.) However,
it is not necessary to say that grammars must therefore contain a primitive feature opposition like
[±SUPERIOR]. Indeed, we have argued that this approach is incorrect since putative feature
oppositions like [±SUPERIOR] are not encoded into thematic relations in the world’s languages.
In languages with elaborate case systems, we do not find different cases being used for motion that
is upward, downward, rearward, forward, inward, outward, etc.
In most of the examples we have considered, the orientation has been along the horizontal axis, e.g.,
They walked into the ocean ([+PRX]) versus They walked toward the ocean ([–PRX]). It is possible,
however, to switch the orientation of a feature like PROXIMAL to the vertical axis, e.g., They
jumped up into the loft ([+PRX]) versus They jumped up toward the ceiling ([–PRX]). Significantly,
the orientation of a word like into or toward is assumed to be basically horizontal unless some other
particle is added, and, when that other particle is added, it cannot stand directly before the object NP:
we have up into and up toward, but not *into up or *toward up. The primacy of the horizontal axis
is supported by the fact that, among languages with elaborate case systems, there do not appear to
Chapter One 63
be any (morphological) cases which are specific to the vertical axis. This gap may be a matter of
physics more than anything else. Motion is involved in most expressions involving the vertical axis,
since it is impossible for an object to exist in mid air at rest. The chandelier is above the table
implies that it is being held in place from above. At ground level, objects are freely in motion or
at rest.
These facts suggest that a feature like PROXIMAL is basic in a way that a putative feature like
SUPERIOR is not. As we have seen, there are morphological case distinctions specifically related
to the feature PROXIMAL (illative and allative in Finnish). Further, the facts suggest that we can
simply view over as a preposition specifically oriented along the vertical axis in many uses (it has
a link to SUPERIOR–1 described in Section 1.12 above), the primary feature opposition still being
[±PRX], e.g., The cars are driving over the field ([+PRX]) versus The planes are flying over the field
([–PRX]) or He climbed over the wall ([+PRX]) versus He jumped over the wall ([–PRX]).38
For the above reasons, I have not included any mention of the vertical axis in the following
description of over. Furthermore, I will ignore several other factors that are important in
understanding the use of over, such as the capabilities of the entity that is the subject of the sentence
and the physical characteristics of the object of over (for discussion, see Lakoff 1987: 419–425;
Taylor, J. 1993, 1995: Section 6.3; Sandra and Rice 1995). Still, we can recognize ten individual
senses using the thematic features from Figures One and Two. Five of these, the examples in (154)
and (155), involve contact; they are all [+PROXIMAL]. The remaining five, the examples in (156)
and (157), do not involve contact; they are all [–PROXIMAL].
(154) LOCATIVE [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]; involving contact between entity and place; not
emphasizing direction forward or toward.
a. [–EXT]; over = on the other side of; not emphasizing extent of space, i.e., coverage;
not involving motion: They are over the bridge. (They are on the other side of the
bridge.)
b. [+EXT]; over = from one side to the other and in between; emphasizing extent of
space, i.e., coverage.
1. Not involving motion: The leaves lay (all) over the ground. (cf. The leaves
blanketed the ground.)
2. Involving motion: The bugs are crawling all over the table.
(155) ILLATIVE [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]; involving contact between entity and place;
emphasizing direction forward or toward; involving motion.
a. [–EXT]; over = from one side to on the other side; not emphasizing extent of space,
i.e., coverage: The bookcase fell over.
space, i.e., coverage: They threw the blanket over the patient.
64 Chapter One
(156) ADESSIVE [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX]; not involving contact between entity and place;
not emphasizing direction forward or toward.
a. [–EXT]; over = on the other side of; specifically, above; not emphasizing extent of
space, i.e., coverage; not involving motion: The chandelier is over the table. (cf.
hang above)
b. [+EXT]; over = on the other side of; specifically, above, but covering an area
between; emphasizing extent of space, i.e., coverage.
1. Not involving motion: The bridge is over the river. (cf. The bridge spans the
river.)
2. Involving motion: The helicopters hovered over the field.
(157) ALLATIVE [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX]; not involving contact between entity and place;
emphasizing direction forward or toward; involving motion.
a. [–EXT]; over = from one side to the other; not emphasizing extent of space, i.e.,
coverage: The boy jumped over the puddle.
space, i.e., coverage: The planes flew over the city.
Chapter One 65
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER ONE
1. Hereafter, I will use the label “MA” as a cover term to embrace a model of language which
allows syntactic movement rules as described in various works by Noam Chomsky. This includes
the earliest work in TG (Chomsky 1955, 1957), the Standard Theory of TG (Chomsky 1965),
Government and Binding Theory and the Principles–and–Parameters Model (Chomsky 1981;
Culicover 1997), and the Minimalist Program (Chomsky 1995).
2. Terminology varies from author to author. In some discussions, e.g., Fillmore (1968), a category
like AGENT was referred to as a case, and the model was called case grammar. Later work calls
a category like AGENT a thematic relation or theme. Proposals within the framework of
Government and Binding Theory or the Minimalist Program commonly refer to thematic relations
as theta–roles (›–roles).
In the present study, I will try to avoid the term ‘case’ because of the ambiguity between
morphological case, which involves inflectional variations such as the differences between he, him,
and his; syntactic case, which involves variations due to syntactic function such as the use of the
nominative to indicate subject; and semantic case, which involves the role a noun phrase has in a
clause. Generally, I will use “thematic relation” or “theme” to mean semantic case only. To avoid
ambiguity, I will give thematic relations in upper case type, e.g., DATIVE, and grammatical case
in lower case type, e.g., dative.
The number and definition of the various thematic relations also varies from author to author.
Within the framework of generative grammar, the theta–roles identified are essentially those
originally proposed by Fillmore, e.g., AGENT, INSTRUMENT, EXPERIENCER, SOURCE,
GOAL, etc. Thus, the discussion which immediately follows will focus on Fillmore’s system.
The reader is referred to two summary sections that appear as appendices to this book: An Outline
of Technical Terms (Page 607 ff.) and A Glossary of Terms and Abbreviations (Page 615 ff.).
3. Sanskrit has many external and internal sandhi rules which govern the combination of adjacent
sounds (Whitney 1955: Chapter Three, 34–87). Without external sandhi rules, the examples in (10)
are as follows (note that the ablative marker is regularly –~3 t; on the irregular declension of path–,
see Whitney 1955: 160–161, §433):
(i) té sédhanti pathó vË;kam.

té sédhanti pathás (ablative) vË;kam
they drive away path wolf
‘They drive away the wolf from the path.’
66 Chapter One
(ii) n~4 sm~d gan; áç chidyát‘.
ná asm~3 t (ablative) gan; ás chidyát‘
not him people cut off
‘The people are not cut off from him.’
(iii) sá ‘v~ínam; varun; ap~ç~3 n muñcáti.

sás ‘vá enam varun; ap~ç~3 t (ablative) muñcáti
he even him Varuna–snare release
‘He releases even him from Varuna’s snare.’
Generally, I will quote Sanskrit examples as they occur in the original source, usually with the
sandhi rules having applied, since we are not concerned here with a detailed morphological analysis
of case endings.
4. In Latin, the goal of motion is also expressed by prepositions like ad ‘to’ and in ‘into’ with an
accusative complement. We will discuss the difference between dative and prepositional
complements in detail in Chapter Four.
5. I would like to thank Carlo Coppola for help with the Hindi examples.
6. In earlier versions of the present work the terms “conjunctive” and “disjunctive” were used for
“conjunctural” and “disjunctural,” respectively. The original terms turned out to be too confusing
because of their use in logic; hence, the change in terminology. Unfortunately, there seem to be no
other ordinary words which do not carry some similar potential for confusion, e.g., join and union,
so it seemed prudent to simply invent new words. Though unwieldy, the new terms have the virtue
of offering the same abbreviation (CNJ and DSJ) as the previous terms.
7. I am indebted to Jyoti Tuladhar for these data and all discussions involving examples from
Newari, which is Professor Tuladhar’s native language.
8. As I mentioned in Endnote Two, the number and definition of the various thematic relations
currently used in various models of grammar are essentially those of Fillmore 1968. Thus, the
present discussion uses Fillmore’s system as a point of comparison despite the fact that Fillmore’s
work was done over thirty years ago. Other systems, e.g., Cook 1979 and Croft 1991, are like
Fillmore’s in an essential way, specifically, thematic relations are viewed as atomic categories.
9. As we will see below, this generality is essential to account for the manner in which meaning is
distributed between a predicate and its associated themes. Predicates themselves must be defined
as [±DISJUNCTURAL], [±CONJUNCTURAL], etc., to account for the themes that they construct
with. Often, a disjunction or conjunction is expressed both in the meaning of the predicate itself and
in an associated theme. For example, exit is a disjunctural verb, the disjunction incorporated into
the verb itself by the prefix ex; thus, we can say he exited the room. However, it is also possible to
say he exited from the room, that is, to express the disjunction both in the verb and in the thematic
Chapter One 67
marker (from). All predicates do not work in this way. For example, enter is a conjunctural verb
which does not always permit the conjunction to be expressed in a thematic marker: he entered the
building, *he entered into the building, he entered into the debate, he entered the figures into the
table. What is important here is the particular prepositions that are used with the verbs. Notice that
there is an unspecified missing complement in a sentence like He entered from stage right, namely,
a phrase indicating the place he entered (into). The [+CONJUNCTURAL] meaning of the verb
enter requires this. Similarly, it is not accidental that we do not find examples like *He inserted the
key out of the lock.
10. As Miller and Johnson–Laird 1976: 411 note “many expressions of temporal relations borrow
directly from spatial language.” We have examples like during the weekend, all through July, up
to Labor Day, right into March, towards Christmas, etc.
11. Since [–PST] relations are defined here as those which have no positional vector in either
space or time, relations that are [–PST, ±TMP] are not possible. The situation is analogous to a
phonological feature opposition like [±SIBILANT] which applies to sound that are
[+CONSONANTAL] and never to those that are [–CONSONANTAL].
12. The definitions given below are stated in terms that can be verified visually. I include
temporal examples for comparison to show how the system can relate spatial expressions (on the
table) and temporal expressions (on Tuesday). Examples like on Tuesday and out of office hours,
of course, cannot be defined visually. They require, among other things, reference to temporal
boundaries rather than spatial boundaries. Definitions would also have to be modified to account
for language in the blind or in machine systems without access to visual input. I will not explore
these variations here.
13. There are many other factors involved in the use of near. As Miller and Johnson–Laird (1976:
392) point out: “People are likely to describe any referent within the region of the relatum (but not
touching it) as near the relatum, but they are also likely to describe more distant referents as near
the relatum...People seem to have sets of norms for geographical distances, for distances with
respect to buildings, persons, vehicles, domestic interiors, tabletops, and so on.” I will not pursue
these complexities here.
Talmy (1978) discusses near in terms of the Gestalt notions Figure and Ground, which are roughly
equivalent to Miller and Johnson–Laird’s referent and relatum, respectively. Further, Talmy argues
for representations which relate positional and nonpositional uses, though his terms are “physical”
and “non–physical.” For example, he provides a description, similar to the one we will propose,
which would relate the following:
(i) She is near him. (positional/physical)

(ii) She resembles him. (nonpositional/non–physical)
For a more recent discussion of near in terms of Figure and Ground, see Herskovitz 1986: 35–38.
68 Chapter One
14. In [+DSJ, +CNJ] relations, there is a further implication that the location which the object is
not at is relatively close to some other location where the object, in fact, is; furthermore, the former
location of the object is what is mentioned. Observe that expressions like X is out of Y are
constrained by the distance between X and Y, that is, the further away X is, the larger Y must be.
For example, if the president of the United States is in Europe, a telephone operator at the White
House would not ordinarily tell a caller either (i), (ii) or (iii).
(i) He is out of the Oval Office right now.

(ii) He is out of the building right now.
(iii) He is out of Washington right now.
The appropriate response is something like (iv).
(iv) He is out of the country right now.
If, on the other hand, the president is not in the White House but somewhere else close by in
Washington D.C., the operator might respond with (ii). These remarks apply even in those instances
where the object has never been at, in or on the location as in the following:
(v) In that campground, the toilets are off the campsites.
In this example, I believe that it would generally be assumed that the toilets are somewhere in the
vicinity of the campsites. Further, a sentence like (v) seems most appropriate in situations where
someone expects the toilets to be on the campsites.
As we will see below, a fully specified semantic feature space will be able to relate (v) to (vi).
(vi) In that campground, the toilets are not on the campsites.
Further, in our discussion of nonpositional relations, we will extend the analysis to cover contrasts
like He didn’t go with her and He went without her.
15. My use of Greek letters throughout this book parallels their use in phonology: each Greek
letter can be interpreted as a “+” or a “–”; however, the value given to any one Greek letter is
constant as follows:
(i) ["HIGH, –"LOW] includes [+HIGH, –LOW] and [–HIGH, +LOW]
(ii) ["DSJ, –"CNJ] includes [+DSJ, –CNJ] and [–DSJ, +CNJ]
16. Of course, other possibilities exist. For example, the referent might have moved and returned
to its exact original location. However, in the scenario being described, the vision system has only
two pictures of the objects at two separate times so it is unaware of any intermediate movement.
Chapter One 69
17. Oinas 1966: 110 provides the following paradigm for an Estonian noun (the basic
correspondences with the system presented here are in the last column; as before, upper case
indicates a thematic relation and lower case indicates a grammatical case):
Nominative kohvik coffee house (nominative; accusative)

Genitive kohviku of the coffee house (genitive)
Partitive kohvikut coffee house (accusative)
Illative kohvikussee into the coffee house (ILLATIVE)
Inessive kohvikus in the coffee house (LOCATIVE)
Elative kohvikust out of the coffee house (ELATIVE)
Allative kohvikule to the coffee house (ALLATIVE)
Adessive kohvikul by the coffee house (ADESSIVE)
Ablative kohvikult from the coffee house (ABLATIVE)
Translative kohvikuks for (as) the coffee house (TERMINATIVE)
Essive kohvikuna as the coffee house (COMPARATIVE)
Terminative kohvikuni as far as the coffee house (ALLATIVE)
Comitative kohvikuga with the coffee house (COMITATIVE)
Abessive kohvikuta without the coffee house (NONCOMITATIVE)
18. As is well known, the distinction between ["DSJ, "CNJ] and ["DSJ, –"CNJ] forms the basis
of many variations. Nonstative predicates can occur with do, are found in the progressive, freely
admit expressions of manner, etc. (see Lakoff 1970 for discussion):
(i) a. What John did was have a party.

b. John is having a party.
c. John had a party eagerly.
d. *What John did was have a new car.

e. *John is having a new car.
f. *John had a new car eagerly.
(ii) a. What John did was go out of town.

b. John is going out of town.
c. John went out of town eagerly.
d. *What John did was be out of town.

e. *John is being out of town.
f. *John is out of town eagerly.
19. Jackendoff’s other two arguments against reducing GO to INCH BE are problematic. His first
argument is that travel, in a sentence like The train traveled through the tunnel, cannot be described
as movement that comes to be at a place. Yet, we certainly can say The train is through the tunnel
and would only say it if, in fact, the train had gone all the way through the tunnel; thus, travel
through would seem to reduce to come to be through or simply be through.
70 Chapter One
His second argument is that GO–verbs can appear in expressions of extent as in The fence goes
along the river. But this is not a motional use of the verb go. There are many such nonmotional
uses of generally motional verbs, e.g., This blouse goes with that skirt, where go (with) means
‘match.’ It is only motional uses of go and other motion verbs that should reduce to INCH BE or
BE. Indeed, many positional verbs are very general. For example, lead has motional uses involving
both SOURCE (John lead the troop out of the city) and GOAL (John lead the troop into the city)
as well as nonmotional uses involving both SOURCE (The road leads out of the city) and GOAL
(The road leads into the city). Thus, lead is ["DSJ, $CNJ].
20. English does not have a simple predicate that means ‘be in’ or ‘be on,’ e.g., *The money ins
my pocket (cf. They upped the price). Other languages have such verbs. For example, consider the
Latin sentence in (i).
(i) Nummi in marsupio infuerunt

money in purse in–be
‘The money was in the purse.’
The compound verb inesse itself means ‘be in.’ In addition, the example (i) contains a LOCATIVE
theme introduced by the LOCATIVE marker in. Thus, the feature cluster [–DSJ, –CNJ] forms part
of the meaning of inesse itself. Because of this, the verb constructs with themes that are [–DSJ,
–CNJ]. The important point to keep in mind in the discussion here is that the proposed features are
intended to define both the meaning of verbs and the meaning of associated themes.
Since features lie both with the verb and its associated themes, the system affords us a descriptive
mechanism that can account for many of the primitive relations expressed in child speech. For
example, at the two word stage of language acquisition (Stage I; Brown, R. 1975) children utter
sentences like (ii), from de Villiers and de Villiers (1985 44).
(ii) a. Red car.

b. Daddy pipe.
c. Adam ball.
d. Cup table.
In these examples, no predicate occurs; yet, children clearly are encoding their understanding of
thematic relationships between the words (Adam is an agent in (i–c), and ball is an object acted
upon). Therefore, at this stage of acquisition, we can say that children are expressing the observed
thematic relationships but have not yet linked them with any specific predicate that is subcategorized
for those relationships. The semantic features distinguishing the themes are part of the thematic
phrases themselves (I will discuss structural representations in Chapter Three). At a later stage of
development, children master the link between a predicate and its subcategorized themes, saying
such things as Adam throw ball.
21. A full treatment of negation is beyond the scope of this book; however, one point must be
clarified. A proposition consists of a predicate (P) and one or more arguments (A), as follows:
Chapter One 71
(i) (P A1 A2...An)
The negative of such a proposition can be represented as (ii).
(ii) (NEG (P A1 A2...An))
In any actual sentence, the NEG of (ii) might show up either in the predicate or in a theme. Consider
(iii) and its possible negatives in (iv):
(iii) Everyone has ambition.
(iv) a. Everyone lacks ambition.

b. Everyone is without ambition.
c. No one has ambition.
In (iv–a), the negative is incorporated into the meaning of the verb (lack); in (iv–b), the negative is
part of the complement theme; and in (iv–c), the negative is part of the subject theme.
In addition to the three possible negatives given in (iv), we have (v) which has the two readings in
(vi).
(v) Everyone doesn’t have ambition.
(vi) a. No one has ambition.

b. Not everyone has ambition.
As these examples indicate, stative relations can have absolute opposites of each other, and those
oppositions can show up in a variety of places within the clause, as a negative element in the verb
or in one of its associated themes. The notion of loss in examples like those in (iv), can be expressed
by the distinction [+DSJ], which is part of the meaning of the verb lack in (iv–a), the preposition
without in (iv–b), and the element no in (iv–c). This is not to say that the sentences in (iv) and other
related sentences are equivalent. Indeed, they must be treated differently as the following examples
of make clear:
(v) a. He has ambition, doesn’t/*does he?

b. He lacks ambition, doesn’t/*does he?
c. He doesn’t have any ambition, *doesn’t/does he?
d. He is ambitious, isn’t/*is he?
e. He is unambitious, isn’t/*is he?
f. He is not ambitious, *isn’t/is he?
(vi) a. He has ambition, and so/*neither does she.

b. He lacks ambition, and so/*neither does she.
72 Chapter One
c. He doesn’t have any ambition, and *so/neither does she.
d. He is ambitious, and so/*neither is she.
e. He is unambitious, and so/*neither is she.
f. He is not ambitions, and *so/neither is she.
My concern in this book is with the relationship between a verb like have in (iii), on the one hand,
and a verb like lack in (iv–a) and a preposition like without in (iv–b), on the other. Further, my
focus here in not on the precise meanings of expressions, e.g., the differences in (iv); rather, I am
concerned with providing a representation for expressing the stative results of actions (nonstative
predicates), for example, expressing the relationship between buy, sell, and own.
In positional predicates, the focus is the same; I am concerned with a representation that will reduce
enter the building and go into the building to states (vis–à–vis the building) that are the opposite of
exit the building and go out of the building, and to states that are the same as not exit the building
and not go out of the building. These reductions are essential to any further consideration of precise
meaning differences. We will return to these matters at several points below.
22. To these examples we can add pairs like the following where the locative phrase alternates
with a possessive:
(i) a. Mary pinched John on the nose. (Fillmore 1968: 68 ff.)

b. Mary pinched John’s nose.
(ii) a. The horse kicked Penny in the shin. (Levin 1993: 71)
b. The horse kicked Penny’s shin.
(iii) a. Alison poked Daisy in the ribs. (Levin 1993: 72)

b. Alison poked Daisy’s ribs.
(iv) a. I admired the honesty in him. (Levin 1993: 74)

b. I admired his honesty.
(v) a. The meat fell in price. (Levin 1993: 77)

b. The price of the meat fell.
23. The distinction is crucial since many languages, including English, have different
constructions for inalienable and alienable possession (Fillmore 1968).
(i) a. He has a missing tooth.

b. *He has a missing five–dollar bill.
(ii) a. Ich wasche mir die Hände.

I wash to me the hands
‘I wash my hands.’
Chapter One 73
b. *Ich wasche mir das Auto.
I wash to me the car
‘I wash my car.’
24. We have observed that oppositional meaning can be expressed in the verb itself (have versus
lack) or in the theme markers (with versus without). Further, the focus here is not on expressing all
the differences in meaning in the examples cited; rather, it is on providing a system for representing
the stative results of actions (nonstative predicates). The focus in examples like those in (i) is that
they both entail certain states (vis–à–vis the transaction) that are the opposite of those in (ii).
|
|
(i) a. He did not sell it. He (still) owns it.
b. He bought it. He (now) owns it.
|
|
(ii) a. He did not buy it. He does not (now) own it.
b. He sold it. He does not (any longer) own it.
A full discussion of examples like these must take many other factors into consideration. For
example, consider the following:
(iii) The real estate agent did not sell John’s house quickly.
In this sentence, the subject of sell is the real estate agent; the owner of the house is John; and, the
negative applies to quickly, not to sell. Thus, an adequate (logical) representation must establish the
ownership of the transferred object; one cannot simply assume that the seller is the owner. Further,
one must establish what a negator negates. My concern in (i) is the situation in which the seller is
also the owner and in which there is no sale. This seems to me the simplest or core situation. I will
return to these matters in Section 2.8 (Page 98) after presenting a typology of predicates.
25. The literature on thematic relations contains references to many different themes. Some
authors make distinctions which others do not. This is true even in the earliest work done in the
framework of case grammar; for some discussion of alternatives see Fillmore 1977 and Cook, W.
1979. The number of themes distinguished in the present system is considerably larger than most.
Whether or not this represents an overspecificity remains to be seen. However, since the themes
described here are not atomic categories, the real issue is the number of features the system
distinguishes. The point is that people talk about a variety of things, and languages encode those
thoughts in different kinds of expressions. Some themes participate in verbal subcategorization
(Cook’s ‘nuclear’ themes, Cook 1979: 19); others do not. This distinction is important and we will
specify it in terms of features below; however, the basis for calling something a category cannot
simply be how frequent or central it is in discourse. Again, my point is to develop a system that can
encode all the relationships people talk about, and do so in a way that allows both for wide
generality and great specificity.
I have invented new names for many themes, e.g., AFFECTIVE, to avoid confusion with labels like
EXPERIENCER which have been used in many different ways in the literature. In the present
74 Chapter One
system, AFFECTIVE refers to the animate or inanimate entity that is directly affected by the state
or action identified in the predicate. Thus, AFFECTIVE appears in both of the following although
only (i) and not (ii) is generally regarded as EXPERIENCER in other systems:
(i) He melted THE ICE. (The physical state of ICE is affected.)

(ii) He put the money IN HIS POCKET. (The interior space of POCKET is affected.)
The reasons for the new labels will become clear as we proceed. Since the new terminology places
a considerable burden on the reader, I will repeat the labels with examples frequently throughout the
book. There is a summary list of terms and abbreviations beginning on Page 615. For a discussion
of one set of themes commonly used, see Spencer 1991, Section 6.1.3. For a more elaborate system,
which distinguishes twenty different thematic relations, see Croft 1991.
26. Note that a material like silver is an alienable possession in a sentence like the following:
(i) Bob sold the silver to Joe.
In (i), the silver is reciprocally transferred from Bob to Joe, that is, Joe acquires the silver which Bob
loses. Reciprocal transfer is also entailed in an example like the following:
(ii) They made the vase out of silver.
In (ii), the silver must have come from some source before it was fashioned into the vase. Note that
we have examples like (iii).
(iii) They made the vase out of silver from a local jewelry store.
However, (iii) involves more that the reciprocal transfer of the silver. Specifically, the silver
becomes an intrinsic property of the vase, what the vase is composed of (COMPOSITIONAL
theme). Sentences like (ii) and (iii) are therefore related to (iv) via NSR, and not (v).
(iv) The vase is silver.

(v) The vase is not silver.
The above examples contrast with those containing an ORIGINITIVE theme like (vi), which entails
(vii) because the sentence deals with the reciprocal transfer of an alienable possession, the debt:
(vi) They got the man out of debt.

(vii) The man is out of debt. (=The man is not in debt/indebted)
I will provide a full analysis of such complex examples in Chapter Two. For the moment, note that
silver in (ii) becomes an intrinsic property of the vase, making it an inalienable attribute.
Chapter One 75
27. I have chosen the label DELIMITIVE to express the conditional thematic relation to avoid
confusion with CONDITIONAL which we will use in later chapters for the conditional mood, as
is customary.
DELIMITIVE themes must be distinguished from TEMPORAL, CIRCUMSTANTIAL, CAUSAL,

and INSTRUMENTAL themes. Prepositional phrases introduced by in, with and under are often
used in English for expressions that are very similar in content to a conditional clause:
(i) You should not attempt to go sailing
a. in inclement weather/when the weather is inclement/if the weather is inclement.

b. with the skies so cloudy/since the skies are so cloudy/if the skies are so cloudy.
c. under such cloudy skies/when the skies are so cloudy/if the skies are so cloudy.
The exact classification and possible paraphrases of the prepositional phrases in (i) is itself cloudy.
Certainly, the particular prepositions used (in, with, and under) suggest that we have examples of
TEMPORAL or CIRCUMSTANTIAL or CAUSAL themes, and perhaps we should classify them
as such and restrict DELIMITIVE themes only to expressions that clearly state a condition. On the
other hand, the prepositional phrases in (i) do seem to have a conditional import.
We have a very similar situation in Latin with the ablative absolute construction, which is often
paraphrasable by a conditional (DELIMITIVE) clause:
(ii) Occurrebat ei mancam et debilem praeturam futuram suam consule Milone

it occurred to him maimed and feeble praetorship would be his consul Milo
‘It occurred to him that his praetorship would be maimed and feeble, if Milo were consul.’
(Cicero, Oratio pro Milone, 25)
(iii) Tranquillo ut aiunt quilibet gubernator est.

tranquil as they say anyone pilot is
‘If the weather is tranquil, as they say, any man is a pilot.’
(Seneca, Epistulae, 85, 34)
In (ii), the ablative absolute consule Milone is equivalent to a conditional clause si Milo consul esset
‘if Milo were consul’ (Allen and Greenough 1931: 265). Similarly, in (iii), the ablative of the
adjective tranquillus means ‘if the weather is tranquil.’ As we have seen, the Latin ablative is used
for relations that are [+DISJUNCTURAL].
On the other hand, the Latin ablative also marks TEMPORAL, CIRCUMSTANTIAL, CAUSAL and
INSTRUMENTAL themes, so my description of the ablative absolute as being DELIMITIVE is too
narrow. Note that we can translate consule Milone in (ii) as ‘with Milo being consul’ and tranquillo
in (iii) as ‘under a tranquil sky’ or ‘with the weather being tranquil.’ Thus, perhaps we should say
that the Latin ablative absolute expresses any of the aforementioned themes. This conclusion is the
one favored by classical grammarians (for discussion, see Woodcock 1959: 34–35). Allen and
76 Chapter One
Greenough 1931: 263 offer the following comment: “The Ablative Absolute is perhaps of
instrumental origin. It is, however, sometimes explained as an outgrowth of the locative, and in any
event certain locative constructions (of place and time) must have contributed to its development.”
Thus, we may say that the ablative absolute either expresses a LOCATIVE relation ([+PST, ±TMP])
or a relation that is [–PST, ±DSJ, –CNJ, ±PRX, –FST, +EXT], that is, either CIRCUMSTANTIAL,
CAUSAL, INSTRUMENTAL or DELIMITIVE.
In Ancient Greek, absolute constructions like the above are in the genitive case (Smyth 1956: 459
ff.), as expected since the language has no ablative case and the Greek genitive expresses the
functions of Indo–European relations that are [+DISJUNCTURAL]. Interestingly, there is no dative
absolute in Ancient Greek, only a genitive absolute, suggesting that the absolute construction in
Ancient Greek is [+DISJUNCTURAL], a reflex of the Indo–European ablative, not the
Indo–European locative or sociative/instrumental.
28. The one theme missing from the list of Japanese examples of the uses of ni is the
CONSECUTIVE theme, which expresses the consequences of an action or state. I am informed by
Professor Seigo Nakao that is not possible to literally translate an English sentence like Mary is too
sick for work or Mary is so tired that she cannot study into Japanese. Rather, such sentences would
normally be rephrased to express cause, e.g., Mary cannot work/study because she is too (overly)
sick/tired.
29. Notice that verbs involving inalienable transfer incorporate the transferred attribute into their
meaning. We will elaborate on this below.
30. In comparing the prepositional uses, it is important to look at the cells in both Figure Three
and Figure Four with the features in mind, that is, if the same preposition shows up in two or more
cells, the features involved may be grouped according to rows only, columns only, or both rows and
columns. For example, notice that the principal uses of English for (REFERENTIAL,
CONSECUTIVE, BENEFACTIVE and PURPOSIVE) are abbreviated by the feature cluster [–PST,
–DSJ, +CNJ, +EXT]. RESULTATIVE and TERMINATIVE expressions are primarily introduced
by into and abbreviated by the features [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –EXT, –FST], while their opposites,
COMPOSITIONAL and ORIGINATIVE expressions are primarily introduced by either out of or
from and abbreviated by the features [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –EXT, –FST].
31. The meaning difference in the use of English for often becomes apparent when one attempts
to translate the expressions it introduces into other languages. German für is often appropriate, but
sometimes um or zu is required (Durrell 1983: Chapter 20). Similarly, Spanish para and por cannot
be used interchangeably wherever English for is used (Butt and Benjamin 1988: Chapter 34). Such
differences come as no surprise to a person who knows more than one language. Accounting for
such differences in the framework of a theory of thematic relations as we are attempting to do here
is, of course, an entirely a different story.
Chapter One 77
32. The distinction between the choice of markers can be related to the immediacy of the activity:
BENEFACTIVE themes, which are marked with for, are intended recipients, whereas
AFFERENTIAL themes, which are marked with to, are actual, not intended, recipients:
(i) a. Sue bought Fido (BENEFACTIVE) a bone but forgot to give it to him.
b. *Sue gave Fido (AFFERENTIAL) a bone but forgot to give it to him.
Generally, BENEFACTIVE themes can be interpreted in two ways, either as the entity for whose
sake or benefit something is done (the SAKE–BENEFACTIVE), or as the entity in whose stead or
on whose behalf something is done (the STEAD–BENEFACTIVE). Further, for–phrases can often
be interpreted as PURPOSIVE themes even when they contain an animate complement. Thus, we
frequently have a three–way ambiguity; however, it is only the SAKE–BENEFACTIVE theme that
marks an intended recipient, and, accordingly, only the SAKE–BENEFACTIVE theme that occurs
in the double object variant:
(ii) Bill built the house for the children.
a. SAKE–BENEFACTIVE: the children are the intended recipients of the house. (= Bill
built the children the house.)
b. STEAD–BENEFACTIVE: the children couldn’t build the house for some reason, so
Bill did it for them. (=/Bill built the children the house.)
c. PURPOSIVE: Bill built a house to keep the children in. (=/Bill built the children the
house; cf. Bill built a shed for his tools/*Bill built his tools a shed.)
The three way ambiguity occurs even when the verb is intransitive and no double object construction
is possible at all:
(iii) Bill went to Italy for his father.
a. SAKE–BENEFACTIVE: Bill went to Italy for his father’s benefit, i.e., Bill’s father
reaped the benefit of Bill’s going to Italy.
b. STEAD–BENEFACTIVE: Bill went to Italy in his father’s stead, i.e., Bill went
because his father couldn’t or wouldn’t go.
c. PURPOSIVE: Bill went to Italy to get his father.
In short, in the double object construction, the first noun phrase must be interpreted as the actual
(AFFERENTIAL) or intended (SAKE–BENEFACTIVE) recipient, and that recipient is almost
always animate.
33. For a formal statement of such characteristics, see Miller and Johnson–Laird 1976: Chapter
Two, especially Pages 113–115.
34. Of course, any given language might have an system of some kind for expressing such
distinctions. In fact, Tinrin has a set of verbal suffixes which express such distinctions as motion
78 Chapter One
upwards, motion downwards, motion on the same level, motion around, etc. (Osumi 1995:
133–134):
(i) si–roa (go or pass–up or away) ‘to go out’

(ii) si–rù (go or pass–higher or hither) ‘to return, come up the river’
(iii) si–rùa (go or pass–away or down) ‘to go out, go down’
(iv) si–ro (go or pass–corner) ‘to pass, curved’
These suffixes modify the meaning of verbs, not unlike the semi–productive English prefixes up–
and down– found in (nonverbal) pairs like uphill/downhill, upscale/downscale, upstate/downstate,
upstairs/downstairs, upstream/downstream, uptown/downtown, and so on. Notice that affixation
itself does not alter the thematic relations of the complements in the few verbal pairs that exist in
English:
(v) a. He upshifted/downshifted/shifted into (ILLATIVE) third gear.

b. He upshifted/downshifted/shifted out of (ELATIVE) third gear.
c. They upgraded/downgraded/graded their employees (ASSOCIATIVE).
35. These same features used to specify the thematic structure of verbs will show up in the
definitions of other parts of speech such as nouns, including not only deverbative concrete nouns
like entrance and abstract nouns like freedom, but also root common nouns. For example, there are
nouns like mirror and paper which are generally [+FST] (a smudge on the mirror) but can also, in
some instances, be [–FST] (a reflection in the mirror). Some nouns are generally [+EXT] such as
meadow and farm. A noun such as point, which is [+FST, –EXT], has a literal meaning in the point
of the pencil, but a figurative one in the point of the lecture; the former is visually verifiable, the
latter metaphorical. Crucially, this particular difference has nothing to do with the word point itself;
rather, it is the concrete nature of pencil and the abstract nature of lecture that determines the degree
of literalness of point.
36. For an illustrative fragment of a network , see Appendix C, Page 623 ff. The various types
of links included in Appendix C will be discussed in the following chapters.
37. WordNet 1.5 (Copyright 1995 by Princeton University) is available by anonymous ftp from
clarity.princeton.edu/pub/wordnet. The program is free of charge in accordance with a licensing
agreement. I will discuss ISA and HASA links in Chapter Five.
38. I will make this characterization much more precise in Chapter Five and Six in connection
with a more detailed discussion of semantic networks. Specifically, in Chapter Six, I will suggest
a possible network for a verb like climb which expresses the fact that the verb has vertical
orientation (see example (115) on Page 418).
Chapter One 79
CHAPTER TWO
2.1 THE NEED FOR A TYPOLOGY OF PREDICATES.
An examination of the full range of predicate types in English reveals that many sets of sentences
must be treated in an ad hoc way if semantic analysis does not contain a comprehensive theory of
thematic relations. In particular, accounting for the prepositions that mark specific themes is often
very difficult. There are many idiosyncratic uses, and it is not obvious how these should be
distinguished from underlying systematic uses. Consider, for example, the uses of with illustrated
in (1).
(1) a. I met a person with blue eyes. (ATTRIBUTIVE)

b. I met a person with many debts. (ASSOCIATIVE)
c. She compared the boys with the girls. (COMPARATIVE)
d. He did it with enthusiasm. (CIRCUMSTANTIAL)
e. The child went with his parents. (COMITATIVE)
f. He made it with tools. (INSTRUMENTAL)
An adequate analysis must be able to justify the theme assignments in parentheses in (1). In these
particular instances, justification is fairly straightforward. Paraphrases like the following are helpful
in identifying themes:
(2) a. I met a person who has blue eyes.

b. I met a person who has many debts.
c. She compared the boys to the girls.
She compared the boys and the girls.
d. He did it enthusiastically.
e. The child and his parents went together.
f. He used tools to make it.
These paraphrases are possible because of the following generalizations:
(3) a. ATTRIBUTIVE themes indicate inalienable possessions or characteristics; they can

generally be paraphrased with have or be.
b. ASSOCIATIVE themes indicate alienable possessions or characteristics; they can
generally be paraphrased with have or be.
c. COMPARATIVE themes can usually be paraphrased with to or like; conjunction
between themes compared also occurs.
d. CIRCUMSTANTIAL themes can usually be paraphrased with a manner adverb.
e. COMITATIVE themes can usually be conjoined with the subject.
f. INSTRUMENTAL themes can usually be paraphrased with the verb use.
82 Chapter Two
Given the themes identified in parentheses in (1) and examining their feature composition in Figures
Three and Four, we can generalize the relationships: the preposition with is the unmarked
preposition for most [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] themes. Similarly, except for the COMPARATIVE, the
unmarked preposition for the negative counterparts of the themes in (1), specifically, those that are
[–PST, +DSJ, +CNJ], is without:
(4) a. I met a person (born) without eyelashes.

I met a person who has no eyelashes.
b. I met a person without debts.

I met a person who has no debts.
c. The boys are unlike (*without) the girls.

The boys are not like the girls.
d. He did it without enthusiasm.

He did it unenthusiastically.
e. The child went without his parents.

The child did not go with his parents.
f. He made it without tools.

He did not use tools to make it.
In terms of these data, the feature system we have proposed allows us to reach a high level of
generality in describing the relationships that exist among themes. In particular, the positive and
negative counterparts are related by (70) in Chapter One, repeated here for convenience as (5):
From (5), we derive the following:
(6) a. not with = without

b. not have = lack
c. not like = unlike
d. not without = with

e. not lack = have
f. not unlike = like
Despite this high level of generality, we have other sets of examples that are not so easy to identify
and generalize:
Chapter Two 83
(7) [NP1 – to NP2] versus [NP2 – with NP1].
a. He presented/supplied/furnished it to them.
b. He presented/supplied/furnished them with it.
c. He gave/sold/taught it to them.
d. *He gave/sold/taught them with it.
e. *He equipped/filled/inculcated it to them.

f. He equipped/filled/inculcated them with it.
Our task with regard to these data is to identify the specific theme that with expresses. Further, our
description must relate (7) to (8), since the two sets of examples contain pairs that are often used as
opposites, e.g., buy/sell, give/take, etc., as well as pairs that have roughly the same meaning but quite
different prepositional markers, e.g., teach to/inculcate with.
(8) [NP1 – from NP2] versus [NP2 – of NP1].
a. He robbed/stripped/drained it from them.

b. He robbed/stripped/drained them of it.
c. *He deprived/disabused/relieved it from them.

d. He deprived/disabused/relieved them of it.
e. He took/bought/extracted it from them.

f. *He took/bought/extracted them of it.
Lastly, both (7) and (8) must be related to (9). The verbs in (7) have a conjunctural meaning,
whereas those in (8) and (9) have a disjunctural meaning. Still, the prepositional markers in (9) look
in part like those of (7) since to shows up, and in part like those of (8), since from shows up.
(9) [NP1 – to NP2] versus [NP2 – from NP1].
a. He barred it to them./He closed it off to them.

b. He barred them from it./He closed them off from it.
c. He denied/begrudged/refused it to them.
d. *He denied/begrudged/refused them from it.
e. *He banned/excluded/discouraged it to them.

f. He banned/excluded/discouraged them from it.
84 Chapter Two
What is needed to account for the above data in a systematic way is a typology of predicates. This
typology must account for the thematic relations that appear with various predicates as well as for
the prepositions which mark those relations. In this Chapter, we will supply such a typology.
2.2 POSITIONAL VERSUS NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES.
The features specified in the preceding sections will allow us to make very generalized statements
about the structure and meaning of all predicates and, accordingly, arrive at a coherent typological
classification. At the core of this classification, the present system reveals that there are two basic
semantic classes of predicates in language: positional ([+PST]) predicates, which have to do with
the location of objects in space or time, such as go, enter, exit, insert and extract; and nonpositional
([–PST]) predicates, which have to do with possession, such as have, give, receive, buy and sell. As
common usage attests, possession is a metaphor for location: he entered the data into the table
reduces to the table has the data in it, the table’s data, etc. Therefore, nonpositional predicates are
really systematic or conventionalized metaphors for positional predicates, meaning that the usage
of the former group primarily concerns situations that have many of the characteristics of the latter
but do not involve position per se.1
Even though this distinction is often blurred and many verbs have both positional and nonpositional
uses, there are several reasons for asserting that predicates are basically either positional or
nonpositional.
First, positional predicates typically take complements that are places, such as Detroit, desert, and
building. This attribute, like most semantic attributes is a matter of degree, since almost anything
can be viewed as a place: there is a fly in my soup, he has a pimple on his nose, etc. When speakers
are asked what a desert or a building is, however, they generally respond with a definition that
includes “it is a place where...” Concepts like soup and nose, on the other hand, are not ordinarily
defined as places. Of course, nonpositional predicates can have complements that are places, e.g.,
he donated it to Detroit, but such a locution is about recipiency, not destination of movement.
Second, the complements of positional predicates can be filled with positional quantifiers like here,
there, nowhere, somewhere, downhill, downstairs, downstream, overseas, yonder, etc.; for example,
he went there, they traveled east, she fell overboard, etc. These positional expressions do occur with
nonpositional predicates; however, they generally do not occur in a complement slot, e.g., they spoke
to each other about it downstairs.
Third, positional predicates freely occur with phrases containing a distance measurement, e.g., miles,
feet, fathoms, knots, etc.: they drove for six miles, it sunk 20 fathoms, etc. A sentence like you have
been talking for 50 miles straight is acceptable only when the talking is accompanying movement.
Fourth, positional predicates freely admit positional question phrases like where, how far, in which
direction, etc. We have how far did he go (travel, insert the key, throw the ball, etc.), but not *how
far did he wait (speak, buy the car, wash the dishes, etc.). At a very basic level, all grammars must
Chapter Two 85
distinguish usages like He turned into an alley from He turned into a prince. The former is clearly
positional: only it can be a response to a question like Where did he turn (into)?2
Fifth, positional predicates enter into construction with a larger range of prepositions than
nonpositional predicates even when orientation (GOAL or SOURCE) is fixed. Indeed, orientation
itself tends to be much more specific in nonpositional predicates so that prepositional construction
is often characterized as idiomatic. For example, the GOAL directed positional verb place
constructs with in, into, onto, upon, behind, underneath, etc., whereas nonpositional give, which is
also GOAL directed, is entirely restricted to construction with to. We have neither *I gave it into
him nor *I gave it toward him, though both are interpretable. It is easy to think of positional
predicates that are as specifically oriented as give, e.g., insert, interpose, extract, etc., but difficult
to think of nonpositional predicates as general in orientation as place or move.
Despite these tendencies, positional predicates do have occasional (versus systematic) metaphorical
uses: he went nuts, the baby fell to sleep, she entered puberty at an early age, etc.3 And,
nonpositional predicates can have quasi–positional uses: he received mail from all over the world.
2.3 SEMANTIC DISTINCTIONS AMONG PREDICATES.
In classifying predicates, five other global distinctions are can be expressed using the feature space
we have described.
First, predicates are either nonstative (INGRESSIVE or IGR; ["DSJ, –"CNJ]) or stative
(CONGRESSIVE or CGR; ["DSJ, "CNJ]). Further, there is a formal relationship between IGR
predicates and CGR predicates, namely NSR (see Page 28), repeated here for convenience:
(10) ["DSJ, –"CNJ, $PRX] | ["DSJ, "CNJ, $PRX]
For example, enter reduces to be in, exit reduces to be out, give reduces to have, show reduces to see,
kill reduces to die, etc.
Second, all predicates involve at least one triplet of thematic relations consisting of a SOURCE, a
GOAL, and an entity that I will refer to as the SCT, that is, the entity that is Specified, Changed, or
Transferred in the shift of location or possession.4 The general form for such triplets, each indicated
by a feature specification, is the following, which I will call a “spectrum specification”:
(11) a. ( SOURCE SCT GOAL )

b. ( [+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST] )
Each of the three slots in this spectrum must be filled by a theme that has the features specified in
the slot. For example, the verb fall in a sentence like (12a) is associated with the spectrum
specification (12b) instantiated in (12c).
86 Chapter Two
(12) a. He fell out of the tree (and) onto the ground.5
b. (ELATIVE ASSOCIATIVE ILLATIVE)
c. (tree he ground)
Similarly, pour in a sentence like (13a) is associated with the spectrum specification (13b)
instantiated in (13c):
(13) a. The man poured the water from the bottle into the glass.
b. (ELATIVE ASSOCIATIVE ILLATIVE)
c. (bottle water glass)
As we will see, some of the slots in the spectrum specification may contain an unspecified phrase
(symbolized as “U”) or an abstract phrase. The former condition occurs in a sentence like he fell,
where some SOURCE and GOAL are left unspecified; the latter, in a sentence like he shelved the
books, which would receive a specification equivalent to he put the books on the shelf. The full
range of possibilities for each of the three slots is charted in Figure Five below.6
Third, all predicates involve either the transference or the location/possession of either alienable
(nonintrinsic) objects, such as a book, or inalienable (intrinsic) objects, such as knowledge. A
combination of the two is possible as in a verb like wax, where one transfers both an alienable
substance, the wax, and an inalienable attribute, the shine. Predicates involving alienable
relationships are characterized by reciprocal transfer: what the GOAL gets the SOURCE loses. For
example, he gave the book to her means she has just that book which he no longer has. Predicates
involving inalienable objects are characterized by nonreciprocal transfer: what arises in a GOAL
or disappears from a SOURCE is not reciprocally lost or gained by another entity. For example,
when one begets children, that is, gives them life, one does not give up one’s own life (despite some
rather convincing arguments to the contrary by some parents). Alienable themes are [–PRX];
inalienable themes are [+PRX].
Fourth, predicates fall into two groups: main verbs, which are associated with a theme list specifying
the thematic relations that the verb is subcategorized for, and non–main verbs, which are not
associated with a theme list and include the verbal auxiliaries (AUX). Each thematic relation has
a specific grammatical function. All main verbs have at least a SUBJECT argument, that is, a
thematic role that fills the grammatical function of subject. Generally, main verbs also have a
primary complement (PCOMP), which fills the function of direct object or predicate nominative.
Some main verbs have additional secondary complements (SCOMP1, SCOMP2,...SCOMPn) and
also allow specific modifiers (MOD1, MOD2,...MODn) as arguments. I will refer to those positions
in syntax containing the MAIN VERB, AUX, SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP, and MOD as “base
positions.” Essentially, the base positions specify the basic elements of simple declarative
sentences:
(14) a. SUBJECT + AUX + MAIN VERB + PCOMP + SCOMP + MOD

b. the man will pour the water into the glass slowly
Chapter Two 87
The present feature space captures the distinction between complement themes and modifier themes:
PCOMP themes are generally [–EXT], SCOMP themes are [±EXT]; MOD themes are usually
[+EXT]. Below, by convention, we will specify the order of arguments in the theme list in the base
(active) form: SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP, MOD, e.g., she sold the book to him for ten dollars,
though, in Chapter Five, we will see that the instantiation of themes into arguments can be predicted
and, therefore, the theme list is unordered.
FIGURE FIVE: SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS
[+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST]
SOURCE, ORIGIN, SCT GOAL, LOCATION,

NONPOSSESSOR, or U POSSESSOR, or U
[+PST]
IGR: ELA_ABL ASC_NASC ILL_ALL
CGR: ABS_ABE ASC_NASC LOC_ADE
[–PST]
IGR: IPS EFC_CPS ATT_NATT AFC_RES

APS EFR ASC_NASC_TRM_ORG AFR
CGR: IPS NIPS ATT_NATT IPS

APS NAPS ASC_NASC APS
ABE = ABESSIVE ELA = ELATIVE

ABL = ABLATIVE IGR = INGRESSIVE (NONSTATIVE)
ABS = ABSENTIVE ILL = ILLATIVE
ADE = ADESSIVE IPS = INALIENABLE POSSESSOR
AFC = AFFECTIVE LOC = LOCATIVE
AFR = AFFERENTIAL NAPS = ALIENABLE NONPOSSESSOR
ALL = ALLATIVE NASC = NONASSOCIATIVE
APS = ALIENABLE POSSESSOR NATT = NONATTRIBUTIVE
ASC = ASSOCIATIVE NIPS = INALIENABLE NONPOSSESSOR
ATT = ATTRIBUTIVE ORG = ORIGINITIVE
CGR = CONGRESSIVE (STATIVE) RES = RESULTATIVE
CPS = COMPOSITIONAL TRM = TERMINATIVE
EFC = EFFECTIVE U = unspecified
EFR = EFFERENTIAL
Fifth, predicates generally have either GOAL ORIENTATION (they specify or designate a GOAL
in their theme list, e.g., enter, give, etc.) or SOURCE ORIENTATION (they specify or designate
a SOURCE in their theme list, e.g., exit, receive, etc.). Typically, the designated theme is one that
occupies one of the two COMP slots of the theme list (PCOMP or SCOMP). But some verbs are
88 Chapter Two
unspecified (go, have, etc.). GOAL ORIENTATION is associated with themes that are [–DSJ];
SOURCE ORIENTATION, with themes that are [+DSJ].
2.4 INGRESSIVE (IGR) PREDICATES.
All positional IGR predicates have at least two spectrum specifications as part of their semantic
structure. One triplet is associated with an SCT that is some alienable object or attribute, the other,
with an SCT that is some inalienable object or attribute. For example, the specification of pour in
(13) is incomplete, showing only the alienable spectrum. In addition, pour involves an inalienable
spectrum deriving from the fact that all positional IGR predicates, whether designating GOAL or
SOURCE in their theme list, involve a change of some inalienable attribute of that GOAL or
SOURCE. When an object is moved from one place to another, the object itself is not the primary
thing effected; rather, the GOAL and SOURCE are affected. Consider the following:
(15) a. He poured the water from the bottle into the glass.
b. He put the cake into the oven.
Strictly speaking, neither the water nor the cake is affected by the action of pouring or putting. Of
course, other conditions might cause these objects to be affected:
(16) a. He poured the water into the frozen glass.

b. He put the cake into the hot oven.
However, again strictly speaking, physical relocation of an object itself does not affect the object.
What is affected in the examples of (15) is the bottle, the glass and the oven. Bottles, glasses and
ovens are containers, and the interior space of these containers is one of their distinguishing
characteristics. Without such space, they would not be the objects we name them. In the
transference of the water, for example, the glass’s empty interior space decreases by exactly the
same amount that the bottle’s empty interior space increases (ignoring spillage). Hence the change
is reciprocal. Moreover, the change is recoverable. The water can always be poured back into the
bottle. We label this inalienable aspect of an object its FORM–1.7
Generally, changes in an object’s spatial characteristics are recoverable (reversible) even though
such changes affect inalienable characteristics. We see that in the examples already cited as well
as other examples like He switched on the light switch and He opened the book. In every positional
IGR predicate, the FORM–1 of both GOAL and SOURCE is affected; however, predicates usually
designate only one of these as primary (cf. put in (16b)), that is, they have a specific
ORIENTATION. Again, strictly speaking, both GOAL and SOURCE must be involved and the
FORM–1 of both must be affected.
This aspect of form contrasts with the FORM–2 of an object, which is ‘the internal composition of
an object’; for example, a bottle might be made of plastic or glass. Changes in FORM–2 are also
changes in inalienable attributes; however, such changes are nonreciprocal. When they arise in a
Chapter Two 89
GOAL, for example, they are not accompanied by a concomitant loss from a SOURCE: a murderer
does not die in the process of killing someone; when ice melts, nothing happens to the agent that
caused the melting. We will distinguish two types of FORM–2 changes: those that are largely
permanent such as death as opposed to those that are dynamic such as melt; the former are generally
not recoverable or reversible, the latter are.8
Generally, we can equate FORM–1 changes with the changes that occur in change–of–position verbs
like go, move, enter, exit, insert, and extract, as well as verbs like give, take, and sell. FORM–2
changes can be equated with the changes that occur in change–of–state verbs including
physiological changes (kill), mental changes (teach), compositional changes (melt), and the like.
The most important difference between FORM–1 and FORM–2 concerns RECIPROCITY. Changes
in FORM–1 are reciprocal; changes in FORM–2 are nonreciprocal.
Under a given set of circumstances, the FORM–2 of a GOAL or SOURCE could be affected in the
transference:
(17) He poured the molten lead into the plastic cup.
The FORM–2 of the cup will clearly be affected under this set of circumstances; but, strictly
speaking, that has nothing to do with the act of pouring. One must keep examples like (16) and (17)
in mind when trying to determine what is affected in a transference. In simple cases of relocation,
it is the GOAL and SOURCE that are affected, not the object that moves. Such careful
consideration is essential in the analysis of all predicates, otherwise more opaque cases like (18)
cannot be understood.
(18) He boiled the water.
In this example, water is the GOAL (AFFECTIVE, specifically) of the action, and its FORM–2 or
composition is affected by boiling. What is transferred is heat.
We can summarize the distinction between FORM–1 and FORM–2 as follows:
(19) FORM–1: pour in He poured the water from the bottle into the glass.
a. FORM–1 involves inalienable attributes of an object’s outward appearance such as

its spatial configuration.
b. FORM–1 is altered in change–of–position predicates like pour.
c. FORM–1 changes are reciprocal (both the SOURCE and the GOAL are affected).
90 Chapter Two
(20) FORM–2: teach in He teaches linguistics to undergraduates.
a. FORM–2 involves inalienable attributes of an object’s inner nature such as what it

is made of, what it knows, and what it experiences.
b. FORM–2 is altered in change–of–state predicates like kill (physiological change),
teach (mental change), and melt (compositional change).
c. FORM–2 changes are nonreciprocal.
Returning to our main examples, we must modify a spectrum specification like (13b) and say that
the verb pour has the following two spectrums (see Figure Five on Page 87 for abbreviations and
Section 1.9.2, Pages 40 ff., for examples of the themes):
(21) He poured the water into the glass.
a. (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL)

b. (he FORM–1 glass) (U water glass)
EFC = EFFECTIVE = nonpositional SOURCE (often called AGENT)

ATT = ATTRIBUTIVE = inalienable SCT (often called THEME)
AFC = AFFECTIVE = nonpositional GOAL (often called PATIENT)
ELA = ELATIVE = positional SOURCE (often simply called SOURCE)
ASC = ASSOCIATIVE = alienable SCT (often called THEME)
ILL = ILLATIVE = positional GOAL (often simply called GOAL)
U = unspecified
The first spectrum includes the inalienable SCT, specifically the FORM–1 of the glass, its interior
space which is altered in the act of pouring. The second spectrum includes the alienable SCT,
specifically the water. The verb pour is generally GOAL oriented as in (21), though the SOURCE
can be mentioned as in (15a). Again, strictly speaking, whether or not the SOURCE is mentioned
is immaterial; it always exists conceptually. In (21b), the nonpositional SOURCE is the EFC and
the positional SOURCE is left unspecified as U because the example does not name it. The
positional GOAL is the glass, and since the verb has GOAL ORIENTATION in the example, the
nonpositional GOAL is also the glass, the thing affected (AFC).
If the sentence to be analyzed contains the positional SOURCE, the derived spectrum specifications
are as follows:
(22) He poured the water out of the bottle.
a. (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA ASC ILL)

b. (he FORM–1 bottle) (bottle water U)
This representation records the fact that the sentence exhibits SOURCE ORIENTATION and that
the positional GOAL is unspecified.
Chapter Two 91
From this discussion, we derive the following generalizations:
(23) a. All positional predicates must have both an inalienable and alienable SCT;
conceptually, they must also have both a positional and nonpositional SOURCE and
GOAL.
b. The inalienable SCT is always some attribute of the thing affected (AFC).
c. The AFC will be the theme expressing ORIENTATION, that is, GOAL and/or
SOURCE. Conceptually, both are always present and both are always affected.
Even in sentences like (24), which only mentions the alienable SCT, all the other components of
(23) are present as the additions in (25) show, that is, something must have been the cause (CAU)
of the lamp’s falling, it must have fallen from somewhere (positional SOURCE) to somewhere
(positional GOAL).9
(24) The lamp fell.
(25) a. The lamp fell because of the severe vibrations that occurred during the earthquake.
b. The lamp fell onto the floor.
c. The lamp fell off the table.
Conceptually, therefore, (24) has the spectrum specification in (26a) instantiated as (26b), where
ELA_ABL = ELATIVE_ABLATIVE ([+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, ±PRX]) and where ILL_ALL =
ILLATIVE_ALLATIVE ([+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, ±PRX]); see the notation in Figure Five.10
(26) a. (fall (CAU FORM–1 AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL)

b. (fall (U FORM–1 U) (U lamp U))
In GOAL oriented verbs, the designated theme is typically ILLATIVE or ALLATIVE in positional
predicates and AFFERENTIAL (RECIPIENT) in nonpositional predicates. In SOURCE oriented
verbs, the designated theme is typically ELATIVE or ABLATIVE in positional predicates and
EFFERENTIAL (GIVER) in nonpositional predicates. The first group shares the feature [–DSJ];
the second, [+DSJ].
When verbs exhibit alternative constructions, the variations often change the precise meaning of the
relationship between the SCT and the GOAL or SOURCE, as others have observed:11
(27) a. He stuffed the cotton (ASC) into the sack.

b. He stuffed the sack with cotton.
(28) a. He stripped the paint (ASC) off the wall.

b. He stripped the wall of paint.
92 Chapter Two
The above sentences illustrate core examples of simple predication. Certain sentences require more
extensive representation. For example, a particular sentence might mention both the SOURCE and
the GOAL, in which case the representation would contain more than two spectrum specifications.
(29) a. He poured the water from the bottle into the glass.
b. He poured the water into the glass from the bottle.
Since both the SOURCE and the GOAL are mentioned in the above, the representation is as follows:
(30) (pour (EFC ATT AFC) (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))
(pour (he FORM–1 bottle) (he FORM–1 glass) (bottle water glass))
This representation makes explicit the fact that the agent (EFC) has brought about a change in the
FORM–1 of both the bottle and the glass by pouring the water out of the former into the latter. Such
a sentence, therefore, has two affected objects (AFC), the bottle and the glass. The most common
class of predicates that regularly involve such complex representations are explicitly inchoative
verbs like make, craft, develop, etc., which I will discuss in Section 2.8.
2.5 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS: POSITIONAL PREDICATES.
As we have noted, positional predicates (go, enter, insert, exit, etc.) are associated with two
spectrum specifications. One involves inalienable transfer; the other, alienable transfer. These are
typically realized as the following thematic specification (ATT is an inalienably possessed
ATTRIBUTE; ASC is an alienably possessed object; NASC is an alienably dispossessed object; see
Figure Five on Page 87):
(31) ( (EFC ATT_NATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC_NASC ILL_ALL))
The triplets in these spectrum specifications always contain both a GOAL and a SOURCE because
conceptually both must be present. Theme lists, however, usually contain just one GOAL or
SOURCE theme as the designated focus (ORIENTATION) and just one SCT theme.
Both positional and nonpositional IGR predicates can involve a reciprocal transfer (FORM–1) which
is recoverable and reversible. The reason for this is most transparent in a true positional locution
like He put the spoon into the cup. Here, the SUBJECT is EFC (he) and the PCOMP is ASC (the
spoon); the GOAL is the ILLATIVE phrase (into the cup). Clearly, the spoon was somewhere
outside the cup before it was moved, so some ELATIVE phrase is implied. However, the sentence
given designates the GOAL. In relocating the object, the EFC changes the object’s position, an
alienable change of the object since the intrinsic nature of the object is not altered. However, an
inalienable change also occurs in the designated GOAL (and SOURCE); specifically, the interior
space of the cup is affected, and that interior space is an inalienable possession of the cup. Strictly
speaking, the interior space of the SOURCE (ELATIVE argument) is also altered, but, as we have
Chapter Two 93
noted, verbs generally designate one GOAL or SOURCE as focus. Thus, by (23), the AFC is the
cup, and the attribute affected is its FORM–1. Filling the spectrum specification (31) with words,
yields the following representation (U = unspecified):
(32) (put (he FORM–1 cup) (U spoon cup))
If the sentence were He removed the spoon from the drawer, the representation would be as follows:
(33) (remove (he FORM–1 drawer) (drawer spoon U))
As this example and others reveal, ORIENTATION determines which GOAL or SOURCE theme
is also the primary AFC. Again, strictly speaking, in the transference of some ASC or NASC from
one location to another, both locations are affected (AFC), which reciprocal transfer always
demands, that is, there is always a secondary, generally unspecified AFC as well. But most verbs
are oriented toward one designated primary AFC. Orientation is not the same as obligatoriness:
designated themes are quite often optional, the meaning being supplied from the context.
When a designated SOURCE or GOAL theme is omitted in a specific context, we express this in
the spectrum specification with a “U” in individual SOURCE and GOAL slots. For example, the
predicate add is generally GOAL oriented, so its theme list designates the GOAL. However,
sentences like He added some special ingredient from this spice rack are certainly possible in
context. In such instances, the SOURCE is focused in the discourse so it becomes the primary AFC,
the GOAL being unspecified and relegated to subsidiary status (secondary AFC). This shift in focus
becomes possible because of the nature of reciprocal transfer. Although a particular predicate might
designate SOURCE or GOAL as AFC, the focus can shift since both SOURCE and GOAL are
always affected in reciprocal transfer. The only barrier to this shift occurs when a particular
predicate designates a required SOURCE or GOAL, e.g. put.
2.6 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS: NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES.
In nonpositional predicates, the general spectrum specification is typically realized as one of two
thematic specifications. The first is like the specification for positional predicates, except that the
GOAL and SOURCE slots are filled with nonpositional themes, as in the following thematic
specification for predicates like give, accept, buy and sell:
(34) ( (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC_NASC AFR))
Sentences like He gave the book to her and She accepted the book from him have the following
representations:
(35) (give (he FORM–1 her) (he book her))
(36) (accept (she FORM–1 him) (him book she))

94 Chapter Two
The theme list of give specifies its subject as EFC_EFR meaning it is both agent (EFC) and
SOURCE; further, it designates an AFR GOAL as its SCOMP theme. Since give designates the
GOAL, the primary AFC is her in the present example. Conceptually, the EFR is also affected; it
is the secondary AFC. When the EFR is not mentioned (She was given an award), the focus
switches to the AFR, which is then the primary AFC.
On the other hand, the theme list of accept specifies its subject as EFC_AFR meaning it is both
agent (EFC) and GOAL; further, it designates an EFR SOURCE as its SCOMP theme. Since accept
designates SOURCE, the primary AFC is him in the example. Again, conceptually, the AFR is also
affected; it is the secondary AFC. When the EFR is not mentioned in the sentence (She accepted
an award), the focus switches to the AFR, which is then the primary AFC.
The second typical spectrum specification for nonpositional predicates involves predicates which
instantiate changes in some inalienable aspect of an object other than its FORM–1, that is, its
FORM–2. The general spectrum specification for FORM–2 changes is as follows:
(37) ( (EFC FORM–2 AFC) (EFR ASC_NASC AFR))
When a FORM–2 type of change is present in the spectrum specification, the AFC is, again, the
theme specified by the predicate’s ORIENTATION in all cases except one (see below). Sometimes
the AFC experiences a gain or addition in some FORM–2; this occurs in predicates like polish and
poison.12 For example, The butler polished the silver, has the following spectrum:13
(38) (polish (butler SHINE–1 silver) (U POLISH–1 silver))
Sometimes, the FORM–2 is quite abstract, that is, something that cannot be perceived visually.
Nonetheless, it can be related to the system described here.14 This occurs with predicates like teach,
inculcate, or learn where the FORM–2 is some kind of KNOWLEDGE–1, and the right half of the
spectrum specification contains an abstract ASC. For example, He taught French to them has the
following spectrum:15
(39) (teach (he KNOWLEDGE–1 them) (he French them))
In other cases, the AFC experiences a loss in some FORM–2; this occurs in predicates like disabuse
or forget where the FORM–2 is again KNOWLEDGE–1, but the right half of the spectrum
specification contains EFR ORIENTATION which reduces to NPOS (NONPOSSESSION; see (66)
below).
In both types, the FORM–2 change appears in the AFC, induced by the agent, without a reciprocal
loss from or gain to the agent. This derives directly from the nature of inalienable possession and
nonreciprocal transfer. The agent of any FORM–2 change is itself not affected by having
engendered that change in some other entity. Sentences like He disabused them of such ideals and
He inculcated them with such ideals have the following representations.
Chapter Two 95
(40) a. (disabuse (EFC KNOWLEDGE–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
b. (disabuse (he KNOWLEDGE–1 them) (them ideals U))
(41) a. (inculcate (EFC KNOWLEDGE–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

b. (inculcate (he KNOWLEDGE–1 them) (U ideals them))
These are both FORM–2 changes. The difference between the two predicates is in the nature of the
right–hand portion of the spectrum. In disabuse, the predicate has EFR ORIENTATION; notice that
them is mentioned in the sentence He disabused them of such ideals. In inculcate, the predicate has
AFR ORIENTATION. I will offer an explanation for the different choices in prepositions below
on Page 98 ff.
Predicates like forget and learn are different from the above in that the EFR or AFR theme is
coreferential with the EFC (EFC_EFR or EFC_AFR subject). Hence, the one affected is oneself.
Sentences like They forget such ideals and They learned such ideals from him have the following
representations.
(42) a. (forget (EFC KNOWLEDGE–1 AFC) (EFR ASC U))

b. (forget (they KNOWLEDGE–1 they) (they ideals U))
(43) a. (learn (EFC KNOWLEDGE–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

b. (learn (they KNOWLEDGE–1 they) (him ideals they))
Furthermore, a verb like learn is a principled exception to the use of ORIENTATION to determine
primary AFC. Even when the EFR is mentioned, the primary AFC is the AFR. Again, this derives
from the nature of inalienable change. When an EFC_AFR learns something from a teacher (EFR),
that teacher does not lose his knowledge; hence, the EFC_AFR is the primary AFC. In short, we
have the following generalization:
(44) If the EFC is the AFR, and the inalienable transfer involves something other than
FORM–1, then the primary AFC is always the EFC_AFR, regardless of which theme is the
designated theme. In all other transfers, the primary AFC is the designated theme (PCOMP
or SCOMP1) in the list.
2.7 SUMMARY OF PREDICATE TYPES.
The following is a summary of the six major types of predicates (For examples of spectrum
specifications, see also Section 2.12, A Summary of Spectrum Specifications, Page 126 ff.).
Significantly, predicates can belong to more than one class. For example, positional predicates can
often be used nonpositionally, some predicates allow either SOURCE or GOAL ORIENTATION,
etc. In Figure Six, an ASC that is abstract is one which is realized in the spectrum specification as
a word sense; a non–abstract ASC is one that is realized as a word.
96 Chapter Two
FIGURE SIX: SUMMARY OF PREDICATE TYPES
CATEGORY EXAMPLES ORIENTATION AFC SCT (alienable)
+PST; FORM–1 enter, insert ILL_ALL ILL_ALL ASC

–PST; FORM–1 sell, give, supply AFR AFR ASC
–PST; FORM–2 teach, inculcate AFR AFR ASC (non–abstract)
–PST; FORM–2 polish, poison AFR AFR ASC (abstract)
+PST; FORM–1 exit, extract ELA_ABL ELA_ABL ASC

–PST; FORM–1 buy, take EFR EFR ASC
–PST; FORM–2 disabuse, forget EFR EFR ASC (non–abstract)
–PST; FORM–2 anesthetize, starve EFR EFR ASC (abstract)
The prepositional alternations among these predicates are one of the chief clues to categorization.
The nondisjunctural preposition is to (ILL/ALL/AFR) and the disjunctural preposition is from
(ELA/ABL/EFR). Further, the associative (ASC) preposition is with in verbs with GOAL
ORIENTATION and of in verbs with SOURCE ORIENTATION. The use of these prepositions is,
therefore, principled, not idiosyncratic (see Figures Three and Four on Page 50).
The following examples illustrate the eight classes from Figure Six:
(45) a. He inserted the key into the lock./He loaded the hay into the wagon./He loaded the
wagon with hay.
b. He supplied the books to them./He supplied them with books.
c. He taught such ideals to them./He inculcated them with such ideals.
d. He polished the silver.
(46) a. He extracted the key from the lock./He emptied the gas from the tank./He emptied
the tank of gas.
b. He stripped all authority from the king./He stripped the king of all authority.
c. He dispelled such ideals from them./He disabused them of such ideals.
d. He starved the dog.
As we noted above (44), there is one principled deviation where the designated theme is not the
primary AFC. This occurs in a predicate like learn, which designates an EFR but has AFR as
primary AFC because of the nature of inalienable transfer. We record this in the following
supplement to Figure Six:
FIGURE SIX: SUPPLEMENT ONE
–PST; FORM–2 learn, understand EFR AFR ASC

Chapter Two 97
Using the semantic feature system described above, we see that all spectrum specifications are
variations on one generalized specification; therefore, we can say that the semantic mapping of all
predicates is a variation of the following:16
(47) ([+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST])
In this spectrum specification, the feature clusters, [+DSJ, ±FST], [–PST, –FST], and [–DSJ, ±FST],
correspond to SOURCE/ORIGIN/NONPOSSESSOR, SCT, GOAL/LOCATION/POSSESSOR,
respectively. Sometimes, instead of a thematic relation occurring in one of the slots, a word sense
occurs. For example, the inalienable SCT for the verb kill is DEATH–1, DEATH–2, etc. Recall that
these word senses are like phonetic symbols in that they are language independent. They are part
of the metalanguage of our theory. DEATH–1 denotes ‘the state of being dead in an animate being,’
regardless of how that concept is realized in any specific language; DEATH–2 denotes ‘a
termination,’ as in the death of imperialism. The different senses occur in He killed the bug versus
He killed the argument.17
Every predicate is a variation of schema (47), and every instance of every predicate in a sentence
must be able to be mapped onto this schema. This means that all three components are obligatory
conceptually, even though one or more might be optional syntactically. For example, when a
movement occurs, there is always a GOAL, but not every verb requires that the GOAL be
mentioned. Consider these examples:
(48) a. John put the vase onto the table.

b. *John put the vase.
c. John put the vase from the box onto the table.
(49) a. John moved the vase onto the table.

b. John moved the vase.
c. John moved the vase from the box onto the table.
Clearly, although no SOURCE is mentioned in either (48a) or (49a), and although no GOAL is
mentioned in (49b), such components of the spectrum must exist. In these examples, they are
unspecified.
Sometimes an unspecified relation is REFLEXIVE, that is, refers back to the subject of the sentence
(I will define “subject” formally in the next chapter):
(50) a. John entered.

b. John entered the debate.
c. John entered into the debate.
d. John entered himself into the debate.
Notice also that the verb enter, in its general use, has GOAL ORIENTATION, meaning that it is
oriented forward, whether or not the GOAL is expressed:
98 Chapter Two
(51) a. John entered from the hall.
b. John entered the kitchen from the hall.
We will return to this matter in our discussion of motion verbs in Chapter Five.
2.8 NONSTATIVE REDUCTION.
As we saw in Section 1.8 (Page 36), possessive themes combine with associative themes to yield
four possible types of possession:
(52) POSSESSION OF SOMETHING
He is a man with ambition.

He has ambition. = He doesn’t lack ambition.
He is ambitious.
(53) POSSESSION OF THE LACK OF SOMETHING
He is a man without ambition.

He has no ambition.
He is unambitious.
(54) NONPOSSESSION OF SOMETHING
He is not a man with ambition.

He does not have ambition. = He lacks ambition.
He is not ambitious.
(55) NONPOSSESSION OF THE LACK OF SOMETHING
He is not a man without ambition.

He doesn’t have no ambition.
He is not unambitious.
POS is the reduction of AFR: X gives Y to Z reduces to Z has Y. NPOS is the reduction of EFR:
X takes Y from Z reduces to Z lacks Y.
Given this framework, there should be four types of causative verbs of possession, two verbs of
giving and two of taking, related by NSR (see Page 28) as follows:
Chapter Two 99
|
|
(56) a. AFR + ASC POS + ASC (cf. (52))
b. AFR + NASC POS + NASC (cf. (53))
|
|
c. EFR + ASC NPOS + ASC (cf. (54))
d. EFR + NASC NPOS + NASC (cf. (55))
Of these four possibilities, two are common (56a & c) , one is rare (56b), and one does not appear
to occur (56d). The two common types are the two major classes in Figure Six. In one, the
designated theme is nondisjunctural (ILL/ALL/AFR); in the other, the designated theme is
disjunctural (ELA/ABL/EFR). These reduce, respectively, via (56a) and (56c). Thus, we have a
formal expression of the following relations:
he inserted the key into the lock | the lock has the key
he gave the book to her | she has the book
(57) a.
b.
he extracted the key from the lock | the lock doesn’t have the key
he took the book from her | she doesn’t have the book
(58) a.
b.
Examples of reductions via (56b) are rare in English, though they do occur. We already noted them
above in (9) and repeat them here in charted form:
FIGURE SIX: SUPPLEMENT TWO
+PST; FORM–1 bar, close ILL_ALL ILL_ALL NASC

–PST; FORM–1 deny, forbid AFR AFR NASC
–PST; FORM–2 discourage AFR AFR NASC
Examples of these predicates occur in the following:
(59) a. He barred the street to traffic./He barred traffic from the street.
b. He denied employment to them./He banned them from employment.
c. He discouraged smoking./He discouraged them from smoking.
These examples are a somewhat peculiar variation on the themes in Figure Six because they
designate a GOAL (ILL/ALL/AFR) and, at the same time, involve a loss (NASC) rather than a gain
(ASC). Further, the NASC preposition is from. Still, they are a conceptually expected case given
(52) – (55). We find similar examples in other languages. In Latin, for example, we have (60b)
alongside of (60a), both meaning ‘violence deprives a young man of life.’
100 Chapter Two
(60) a. Vitam (accusative) adulescente (ablative) vis privat.
life young man violence deprives
b. Vitam (accusative) adulescenti (dative) vis aufert.

life young man violence deprives
(60b) contains an instance of the so–called ‘dative of separation,’ which has always mystified Latin
grammarians because the dative is traditionally viewed as the to–case ([–DISJUNCTURAL], in our
terms) while the ablative is traditionally viewed as the from–case ([+DISJUNCTURAL] in our
terms). Yet, (60b) has a dative after a separative verb. As Woodcock (1959: 44) notes, “Logically
one would expect the Ablative of Separation of the person from whom the thing is taken.” Not
necessarily. In the system proposed here, construction with the dative is both possible and expected.
The literal translation of (60a) is something like ‘Violence takes life from a young man’; the
ablative expresses the SOURCE which reduces to the nonpossession of something (see (56c) above
and (63) below). The literal translation of (60b) is something like ‘Violence denies life to a young
man’; the dative expresses the GOAL which reduces to the possession of some lack (see (56b) above
and (62c) below).18
The one reduction that does not seem to occur is (56d). Possibly this is because such a predicate
would reduce to double negative expressions like ‘he is not a man without ambition.’ The causative
of this is ‘to cause someone to not be without something’ which actually means ‘to cause someone
to have something.’
Given these remarks, we can make several general statements about verbs of giving and taking. As
expected, there are two classes of verbs of giving:
(61) To cause to have X; cause to be with X.
|
|
ILL/ALL/AFR + ASC POS + ASC
TRM ASC
a. He forced the men (ASC) into the room (ILL).

The room (POS) contains the men (ASC).
b. He supplied/furnished/gave the computers (ASC) to the school (AFR).

The school (POS) has computers (ASC).
c. He supplied/furnished/equipped the school (AFR) with computers (ASC).

The school (POS) has computers (ASC).
d. He got the family (AFR) into debt (TRM).

The family (POS) got into debt (TRM)
The family (POS) has debt (ASC)
Chapter Two 101
(62) To cause to have no X; cause to be without X.
+ NASC |
ORG |
ILL/ALL/AFR POS + NASC
NASC
a. He barred that street (NASC) to traffic (AFR).

That street (POS) has no traffic (NASC).
b. He barred traffic (AFR) from that street (NASC).

That street (POS) has no traffic (NASC).
c. Vitam (NASC) adulescenti (AFR) vis aufert. ‘Violence denies life to a young man.’
Young man (POS) has no life (NASC).
d. He got the family (AFR) out of debt (ORG).

The family (POS) got out of debt (ORG)
The family (POS) has no debt (NASC)
With the apparent lack of reductions via (55), there is only one general class of verbs of taking:
(63) To cause to lack X.
ELA/ABL/EFR + ASC | NPOS + ASC
a. He forced the men (ASC) out of the room (ELA).

The room (NPOS) does not contain the men (ASC).
b. He cleared the dissidents (ASC) out of the room (ELA)

The room (NPOS) does not contain the dissidents (ASC).
c. He cleared the room (ELA) of the dissidents (ASC).

The room (NPOS) does not contain the dissidents (ASC).
d. He robbed/snatched/took the right to vote (ASC) from the women (EFR).

The women (NPOS) lack the right to vote (ASC).
e. He robbed/cheated/deprived the women (ERF) of the right to vote (ASC).

The women (NPOS) lack the right to vote (ASC).
f. Vitam (ASC) adulescente (EFR) vis privat. ‘Violence takes life from a young man.’
Young man (NPOS) lacks life (ASC).
Generalizing these reductions to further positional and nonpositional predicates including those with
complement verbs, we have the following examples, which I will discuss directly:19
102 Chapter Two
(64) To cause to have X; cause to be with X.
|
|
ILL/ALL/AFR + ASC POS + ASC
TRM ASC
He supplied the drugs to the students./ He supplied the students with drugs.
He sold the book to her./He sold her the book.
He taught swimming to the students./He taught the students to swim.
He persuaded the students to swim.
He lead him men to the river.
He raced her to the top of the hill.
He inserted the key into the lock.
He got them into the shelter.
He forced them into the room.
He got them into debt.
He forced a reconciliation upon them./He forced them into reconciliation.
He encouraged them to riot./He goaded them into rioting.
He started them drinking./He started them into drinking.
Analysis: VERB EFC ASC (with) ALL/AFR (to)

TRM (into) ILL (into)
[–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST]
supply he drugs (ASC) students (AFR)

sell he book (ASC) her (AFR)
teach he swimming (ASC) students (AFR)
to swim (ASC) students (AFR)
persuade he to swim (ASC) students (AFR)
lead he them (ASC) river (ALL)

race he her (ASC) top (ALL)
insert he key (ASC) lock (ILL)

get he them (ASC) shelter (ILL)
force he them (ASC) room (ILL)
get he debt (TRM) them (AFR)

force he reconciliation (TRM) them (AFR)
encourage he to riot (TRM) them (AFR)
goad he rioting (TRM) them (AFR)
start he drinking (TRM) them (AFR)
Chapter Two 103
(65) To cause to have no X; cause to be without X.
+ NASC |
ORG |
ILL/ALL/AFR POS + NASC
NASC
He barred the students from admission./He barred admission to the students.

They denied admission to the students./They denied the students admission.
He discouraged them from rioting./He talked them out of rioting.
He dissuaded them from going./He talked them out of going.
He stopped them from drinking.
He got them out of debt.
Analysis: VERB EFC NASC (from) AFR (to)

ORG (from, out of)
[–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST]
bar he admission (NASC) students (AFR)

deny he admission (NASC) students (AFR)
discourage he rioting (ORG) them (AFR)

talk he rioting (ORG) them (AFR)
dissuade he going (ORG) them (AFR)
talk he going (ORG) them (AFR)
stop he drinking (ORG) them (AFR)
get he debt (ORG) them (AFR)
104 Chapter Two
(66) To cause to lack X.
ELA/ABL/EFR + ASC | NPOS + ASC
He stripped the bark from the tree./He stripped the tree of its bark.
He bought the book from them.
He learned Greek from them.
He deprived them of their rights.
He disabused them of those ideas.
He cured them of the disease.
He forced the truth out of them.
He expected an apology from them./He expected them to apologize.
He lead his men away from the river.
He raced her from the bottom of the hill.
He extracted the key from the lock.
He got them out of the shelter.
He forced them out of the room.
Analysis: VERB EFC ASC (of) ABL/EFR (from)

ELA (out of)
[–PST, –FST] [+DSJ, ±FST]
strip he bark (ASC) tree (EFR)

buy he book (ASC) them (EFR)
learn he Greek (ASC) them (EFR)
deprive he rights (ASC) them (EFR)
disabuse he ideas (ASC) them (EFR)
cure he disease (ASC) them (EFR)
force he truth (ASC) them (EFR)
expect he apology (ASC) them (EFR)
to apologize (ASC) them (EFR)
lead he them (ASC) river (ABL)

race he her (ASC) bottom (ABL)
extract he key (ASC) lock (ELA)

get he them (ASC) shelter (ELA)
force he them (ASC) room (ELA)
Chapter Two 105
2.9 GENERALIZATIONS.
These analyses provide an account of all the difficulties mentioned at the beginning of this chapter,
specifically in regard to (7), (8), and (9). The following generalizations exist.
First, in English and many other languages, prepositions are suppressed when a theme occupies
either SUBJECT or PCOMP (primary complement) positions. Conversely, they generally surface
whenever a theme occupies an SCOMP (secondary complement) or MOD (modifier) position.
Double object constructions (Larson 1988, 1990; Jackendoff 1990), where the prepositions for both
the PCOMP and the SCOMP are suppressed, are possible only in constructions of type (64) and
(65), that is, with verbs which reduce to possession. One might conjecture that constructions of type
(66) do not admit a double object paraphrase for the following reason. Both (65) and (66) contain
a negative element: (65) involves a lack (NASC) and (66) involves a nonpossession (NPOS); both
themes are [+DSJ, +CNJ], the absolute opposites of [–DSJ, –CNJ] as we saw in Chapter One (Page
33 ff.). If both (65) and (66) admitted double object paraphrases, then it would be impossible to
determine where the negative element is, i.e., whether in fact we have (65) or (66). Indeed, double
object paraphrases of type (65) are uncommon in English (We begrudged him the opportunity, ?We
refused him the loan, *We banned him admission). Perhaps the correct generalization is that double
object paraphrases are only possible with nonpositional verbs of type (64), the most common of the
three constructions under examination and the only one lacking a negative component (I will return
to double object constructions in greater detail in Chapter Six).
Second, lexical idiosyncrasy apparently determines which theme surfaces as a prepositional phrase
in all three constructions and whether or not a double object construction is possible in (64) and (65).
Verbs of very similar meaning take different constructions, as we saw at the beginning of our inquiry
with (7), (8), and (9), repeated here for convenience:20
(67) =(7) [NP1 – to NP2] versus [NP2 – with NP1].
e. *He equipped/filled/inculcated it to them.

f. He equipped/filled/inculcated them with it.
(68) =(8) [NP1 – from NP2] versus [NP2 – of NP1].

106 Chapter Two
c. *He deprived/disabused/relieved it from them.
d. He deprived/disabused/relieved them of it.
e. He took/bought/extracted it from them.

f. *He took/bought/extracted them of it.
(69) =(9) [NP1 – to NP2] versus [NP2 – from NP1].
a. He barred it to them./He closed it off to them.

b. He barred them from it./He closed them off from it.

Third, when the ILL, ALL, or AFR theme surfaces as an SCOMP, the [–DISJUNCTURAL]
markers are the expected prepositions into and to. We see this in both (64) and (65). Further,
recognizing that an SCT can specify something that is lost, we have an explanation for the
problematic “dative of separation” in English ((59a) and (59b)) and Latin (60b).
Fourth, when the ELA, ABL, or EFR theme surfaces as an SCOMP, the [+DISJUNCTURAL]
markers are the expected prepositions out of and from. This occurs in (66).
Fifth, when an ASC theme surfaces as an SCOMP, the marker is with in GOAL oriented verbs (64),
e.g., He infected them with the disease. This is the expected preposition since with is the general
marker of the thing possessed (He is a man with many fears; She has the children with her).
Sixth, when an ASC theme surfaces as an SCOMP, the marker is of in SOURCE oriented verbs (66),
e.g., He cured them of the disease. Further, when the NASC theme surfaces as an SCOMP (65), the
marker is from or out of, e.g., He dissuaded them from going and He talked them out of going. This
distinction is interesting. Notice again that (65) and (66) each have a negative element: NASC in
(65) and NPOS in (66). Some kind of dissociation/separation occurs in both. The major
dissociative/separative prepositions in English are, in fact, out of and from: out of sorts, out of tune,
out of practice, cheated out of a commission, frightened out of his wits; free from blame, relief from
pain, excused from work, far from happy, etc.21 We might simply say that of marks the ASC in (66)
and from and out of mark the NASC in (65) and the NPOS theme in (66). But perhaps we can do
more that just stipulate the markers. Suppose we say that any theme marked with out of or from is
one that requires the presence of a negative element (NASC or NPOS) in the underlying analysis
of the themes. Note that I am not proposing that all SOURCES must be marked by out of or from,
which would be a much stronger proposal. As we have seen, such a strong proposal is not possible
because CAUSAL themes, which are a type of SOURCE, allow of, e.g., He died of/from a
mysterious disease. Further, we have examples like devoid of reason, short of cash, bereft of
Chapter Two 107
friends, etc., showing that of can mark a separation. It appears that the best we can do is propose
that the presence of out of or from indicates a negative element in the underlying analysis (NASC
or NPOS), which, in itself, is significant.
Lastly, given NONSTATIVE REDUCTION (NSR, Page 28), we can determine the location or
possession of objects after each of the transactions in (64), (65), and (66) occur. This is clear for
both positional and nonpositional relations as well as concrete and abstract relations. I moved the
piano into the room reduces to the room has (contains) the piano; I cheated her out of the
opportunity reduces to she did not have the opportunity. Further, a sentence like John killed the
corpse is, at best, redundant. Since killing involves the transference of DEATH–1 to the AFC (the
corpse) and since corpses inalienably possess DEATH–1 by definition, the sentence is bizarre.
In short, much more is at stake here than providing a motivation for the prepositions which mark
various themes. Grammars must contain some principle like NSR and some formulas like the
spectrum specifications in Figure Five to specify the shifts in location and possession that occur in
such opaque examples as the warden stripped the prisoners of their rights, the prisoners stripped
(off their clothes), the carpenter stripped the wood (of its finish), and the sailors stripped the sails
(of their rigging). Crucially, the effects of such principles and formulas go beyond the mere
semantics of predication. Observe that, in examples like the sailors stripped the sails of their
rigging, the possessive their most likely refers to the sails, not the sailors. This is clear from the
account we have presented because a rigging is a possession of sails, not sailors. Conversely, in the
editors stripped the manuscripts of their counterexamples, the possessive their can refer either to
the editors or to the manuscripts (cf. They stripped the manuscript of their nasty comments before
returning it to the author and he stripped the manuscripts of their vitality, where the number on the
nouns restricts the reference).
2.10 SOME APPARENT PROBLEMS.
In attempting to determine which of the above patterns is appropriate for any particular sentence,
one must first establish whether the verb involves a POSITIONAL change or a NONPOSITIONAL
change. Further, one must establish whether the change involves an alienable possession or an
inalienable possession, and also whether the change affects the FORM–1 (‘spacial configuration’)
or FORM–2 (‘internal composition’) of the primary AFC. Quite often, sentences which are
superficially similar have very different semantic analyses. Consider, for example, the following:
(70) a. He got the family into the shelter.

b. He got the family into debt. (cf. He brought debt upon the family.)
The two sentences above appear to involve parallel thematic representations; close examination,
however, reveals that they are not parallel. First, into the shelter must be a [+PST] theme, whereas
into debt must be [–PST]. Notice that we have He managed to get his family there into the shelter
before the tornado struck, but not *He managed to get his family there into debt after a week–long
gambling binge.
108 Chapter Two
Second, while He got the family into the shelter entails that the family is in the shelter and He got
the family into debt entails that the family is in debt, the analyses of the two sentences must be
different. In the former, the shelter possesses the family (The shelter contains the family); in the
latter, the family possesses the debt (The family has debt). While one can paraphrase He got the
family into shelter (without the definite article before shelter) as He gave the family shelter, one
cannot paraphrase He got the family into the shelter (with the definite article) as He gave the family
the shelter. The two sentences have very different interpretations. Further, if we change the shelter
to some other container like a car, similar paraphrases are also impossible: He got the family into
the car does not mean that He gave the family the car.
Third, the selectional restrictions between the phrases in (70a) and those in (70b) are very different.
To illustrate this, let us refer to the phrase that occupies the slot in the spectrum specification
containing family as the “entity,” the one containing shelter as the “location,” and the one containing
debt as the “condition.” In (70a), the entity and the location are constrained by such considerations
as number and size. For example, He got/put all fifty members of his family into the car seems
farfetched, whereas He got/put all fifty members of his family into the bus does not. Notice that no
such constraint exists in a sentence like He got/put all fifty members of his family into debt or He
got/put the entire population of the city into danger. This distinction derives from the fact that
phrases like into the shelter and into the car are [+PST] whereas phrases like into debt and into
danger are [–PST]. As a result, the shelter must be analyzed as the primary AFC (the affected
object) in (70a). This is exactly what our theory predicts; recall that, in the physical relocation of
an entity (or entities), it is the space into and out of which a entity moves that is primarily affected,
not the entity itself.
The constraint between the entity and the condition in (70b) is entirely different. Basically, the
entity must be able to experience the condition. Thus, He got the family into debt and He got the
family into danger are possible because families can experience debt and danger. On the other hand,
He got the snake into debt and He got the pencil into danger make very little sense, if any. This
distinction derives from the fact that phrases like into debt and into danger are [–PST]. As a result,
the family must be analyzed as the primary AFC in (70b), not debt.
Lastly, while both of the sentences in (70) involve alienable possession, the family is the ASC (the
thing that is acquired by the shelter) in (70a), whereas debt is the ASC (the thing that is acquired by
the family) in (70b).
Given the above differences, into the shelter should be analyzed as an ILLATIVE (ILL) theme,
whereas into debt should be analyzed as a TERMINATIVE (TRM) theme, the theme which
expresses the condition into which something is transformed (see Page 44). Further, the position
in the spectrum specification occupied by into the shelter for a sentence like (70a) must be occupied
by the family for a sentence like (70b), not debt. Parallel representations are also required for the
following sentences:
(71) a. He got the family out of the shelter.

b. He got the family out of debt.
Chapter Two 109
The phrase out of the shelter is an ELATIVE (ELA) theme, whereas out of debt is an
ORIGINATIVE (ORG) theme, the theme which expresses the condition out of which something is
transformed (see Page 42). A comparison of the sentences in (70) with those in (71) is illuminating.
In both He got the family into the shelter and He got the family out of the shelter, it is the shelter that
is affected. Thus, He got the family into the shelter falls into the pattern of (64), and He got the
family out of the shelter falls into the pattern of (66). On the other hand, in both He got the family
into debt and He got the family out of debt, it is the family that is affected, so that, while the former
falls into the pattern of (64), the latter falls into the pattern of (65), not (66).
Before turning to the analysis of (70) and (71), recall that the schema for spectrum specifications
in Figure Five (Page 87) stipulates that the SOURCE slot must be filled by a theme that is [+DSJ,
±FST], that the GOAL slot must be filled by a theme that is [–DSJ, ±FST], and that the SCT must
be filled by a theme that is [–PST, –FST]. Recall also that TERMINATIVE (TRM) and
RESULTATIVE (RES) themes are [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –FST] and that ORIGINITIVE (ORG) and
COMPOSITIONAL (CPS) themes are [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –FST] (see Figures Three and Four on
Page 50). This means that, potentially, TRM and RES themes can fill the GOAL slot, that ORG
and CPS themes can fill the SOURCE slot, and that all four themes can fill the SCT slot as well.
In actuality, because of the distinction between alienable and inalienable possession, of the four
themes, only RES occurs in the GOAL slot, only CPS occurs in the SOURCE slot, and only TRM
and ORG occur as the SCT, as we will see directly.
NONSTATIVE REDUCTION (NSR; Page 28) will reduce a TRM to ASC, ORG to NASC, and
RES to ATT. CPS, however, will not reduce to NATT because CPS specifies an inalienable source.
Recall that EFC does not reduce to NPOS because, in nonreciprocal transfer, the entity which is the
SOURCE of the transfer does not lose what the entity which is the GOAL of the transfer gains (Page
38). Thus, a teacher does not lose his knowledge of French in teaching French to another, parents
do not lose their lives when they beget children, etc. Also, the material out of which some object
is made (the CPS theme) is not lost during the object’s creation. This distinction is a direct result
of the nature of inalienable possession. In a sentence like They crafted the vase out of silver, the
silver is both an alienable possession (it came from some place before it was used to make the vase)
and an inalienable possession (it becomes an intrinsic part of the vase). It remains part of the vase
during and after the vase’s creation, just as teachers retain their knowledge of a subject during and
after teaching. As such, it is both the ASC (alienable possession) and CPS (inalienable source).
Returning to (70) and (71), we propose the following analyses:
(72) POSITIONAL change (possession is alienable).
a. (get (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))

(get (he FORM–1 shelter) (U family shelter))
He (EFC) got the family (ASC) into the shelter (ILL).

The family (ASC) is in the shelter (LOC)
The shelter (POS) contains the family (ASC).
110 Chapter Two
b. (get (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))
(get (he FORM–1 shelter) (shelter family U))
He (EFC) got the family (ASC) out of the shelter (ELA).

The family (ASC) is out of the shelter (ABS).
The shelter (NPOS) does not contain the family (ASC).
(73) NONPOSITIONAL change (possession is alienable).
a. (get (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR TRM AFR))

(get (he FORM–1 family) (U debt family))
He (EFC) got the family (AFR) into debt (TRM).

The family (POS) is in debt (ASC).
The family (POS) has debt (ASC).
b. (get (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ORG AFR))

(get (he FORM–1 family) (U debt family))
He (EFC) got the family (AFR) out of debt (ORG).

The family (POS) is out of debt (NASC)
The family (POS) has no debt (NASC).
The above representations will yield the correct results. Specifically, in (72), He got the family into
the shelter will correctly reduce to The shelter contains the family, and He got the family out of the
shelter will correctly reduce to The shelter does not contain the family. In (73), He got the family
into debt will correctly reduce to The family has debt, and He got the family out of debt will correctly
reduce to The family has no debt. Notice that the ASC, TRM, and ORG themes are all [–FST],
which allows them to occupy the SCT portion of the spectrum specifications as Figure Five (Page
87) requires.
It may appear that the above representations are counter–intuitive because they line up the themes
differently, that is, we have (74) instead of (75).
(74) a. family into the shelter / family out of the shelter

b. into debt family / out of debt family
(75) a. family into the shelter / family out of the shelter

b. family into debt / family out of debt
There is, however, a logic to the reversals in (74). Notice that debt cannot be considered a container
like the shelter and cannot experience or undergo family. We therefore have the following principle:
Chapter Two 111
(76) When the noun serving as the GOAL or SOURCE cannot be an affected entity, the primary
AFC defaults to the AFR, regardless of where that AFR is in the spectrum specification.
We see the above principle operating very clearly in a verb like force, whose lexical specification
will be discussed in detail in Chapter Seven in connection with nonfinite phrases (He forced them
into reconciling; He forced them to reconcile; see especially Page 473). Consider the following:
(77) a. He forced them (ASC) into the shelter (ILL).

b. They (ASC) are in the shelter (LOC).
c. The shelter (POS) contains them (ASC).
(78) a. He forced the peace treaty (TRM) upon/on them (AFR).

b. He forced them (AFR) into the peace treaty (TRM).
c. They (POS) have the peace treaty (ASC).
Note that (78a) parallels (77a). However, (78b), which means roughly the same thing as (78a),
reverses the order of the themes and reduces to (78c) since AFR reduces to POS and TRM reduces
to ASC via NSR. Since peace treaties cannot experience people, (76) applies.
The use of upon/on in (78a), instead of the expected to, is interesting and may reflect a subregularity
in the choice of markers. Quite often, English selects prepositions which rather graphically illustrate
the type of movement implied, as the following pairs show:
(79) a. He put a spell on her.

b. He put her under a spell.
(80) a. He got the overalls on the baby.

b. He got the baby into the overalls.
Consider now the following pair:
(81) a. He made the spare room into his office with some new office furniture.
b. He made his office out of the spare room with some new office furniture.
These sentences require three special comments. First, both of the above examples entail that the
room (an inalienable SOURCE; CPS) becomes an office (an inalienable GOAL; RES), that is, what
had been just a spare room is now an office. Further, the transformation was accomplished with the
addition of furniture to the room. The furniture must be considered alienable, because it can be
removed and returned to wherever it came from, so that the room can regain its original form.
Crucially, when the furniture is removed, the room does not disappear; it remains a room. However,
the office nature of the room does disappear.
Second, in addition to involving alienable possession, the sentences in (81) also involve inalienable
possession. As expected, there is a FORM–1 change. Further, the inalienable source (the room in
112 Chapter Two
our example) has a new function. We will represent this change with the word sense USE–1 (‘the
function of an entity’).
Third, verbs of creation like the above have GOAL ORIENTATION or, more specifically RES
ORIENTATION. Notice that related sentences are ungrammatical when the RES theme is left
unexpressed:
(82) a. Has he finished making the spare room? (grammatical only if the room is RES)
b. Has he finished making his office?
We would expect, therefore, that the RES theme is the primary AFC. However, in verbs of creation,
the primary AFC (the entity that experiences or undergoes the change) is the SOURCE theme, the
entity out of which the RES is made. For example, when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly, it is the
caterpillar (or, perhaps, “proto–butterfly”) that experiences the transformation; similarly, when a
tadpole metamorphoses into a frog, it is the tadpole (or, perhaps, “proto–frog”) that experiences the
metamorphosis. These changes are, of course, gradual, with the original organism slowly assuming
the new form as a result of the loss of old characteristics and the gain of new ones. Technically, one
cannot speak of the butterfly or the frog as existing until the transformation is complete, so it is the
SOURCE or CPS theme that experiences the change.22
Actually, with a slight modification in our theory, we can account for this apparent contradiction in
determining the primary AFC. Recall that we have seen one exception to determining the primary
AFC in terms of the theme designated for orientation in a predicate’s lexical specification. The
exception occurs in verbs like learn and receive where the EFC theme is the primary AFC. From
this, we formulated the following principle (see Example 44 on Page 95):
Now, observe that the CPS theme in the above examples, like the EFC theme, is an inalienable
SOURCE (see Figure Three on Page 50). To account for verbs of creation like the above, we need
merely modify (83) to (84), which, as before, derives directly from the nature of inalienable
possession.
(84) If the inalienable source (EFC or CPS; [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, –EXT]) is the AFR,
and the inalienable transfer involves something other than FORM–1 alone, then the
primary AFC is always that inalienable SOURCE regardless of which theme is the
Given all these considerations, we propose the following spectrum specification for both of the
above examples:
Chapter Two 113
(85) NONPOSITIONAL change (possession is both alienable and inalienable).
(make (EFC ATT AFC) (CPS ATT RES) (EFR ASC AFR))
(make (he FORM–1 room) (room USE–1 office) (U furniture room))
He (EFC) made the room (CPS) into the office (RES) with the furniture (ASC).
He (EFC) made the office (RES) out of the room (CPS) with the furniture (ASC).
The room (POS) has the furniture (ASC).
The above representation yields exactly the right results. The room (AFR) undergoes a change in
its FORM–1 by the addition of the furniture (ASC); further, it retains its function as a room
(container) and, as an office (RES), acquires the function of an office.
As a last example, let us consider pairs of sentences like the following, which are different from the
above in a number of ways:
(86) a. He knitted the leftover yarn into a scarf.

b. He knitted the scarf out of the leftover yarn.
In these examples, the yarn is the inalienable SOURCE (CPS), the ASC, and the AFR. In both (86a)
and (86b), the (unknitted) yarn, an alienable possession (ASC), is gradually transferred to itself
(AFR) in the form of knitted yarn. The (unknitted) yarn undergoes a FORM–1 change and a change
in growth (GROWTH–1) during the knitting. This example, therefore, differs from the ones in (81)
in an essential way. In (81), the room exists before it is turned into an office. A caterpillar and a
tadpole exist before they experience the physical and physiological changes that produce the mature
organism. But, in the present example, nothing exists before the knitting aside from the yarn (except
perhaps some Platonic idea of a scarf in the yarn). Furthermore, the (unknitted) yarn becomes an
intrinsic part of the scarf. As such, it is an inalienable source (CPS) out of which the scarf (RES)
is made, so that the scarf ceases to exist if the yarn is removed. The yarn is therefore the primary
AFC, and since it is also the AFR and experiences a change other than FORM–1 alone, (84) is
applicable and the resulting product (the knitted yarn in the form of a scarf) contains the (unknitted)
yarn.
Given these considerations, we propose the following:
(87) NONPOSITIONAL change (possession is both alienable and inalienable).
(knit (EFC ATT AFC) (CPS ATT RES) (EFR ASC AFR))
(knit (he FORM–1 yarn) (yarn GROWTH–1 scarf) (U yarn yarn))
He (EFC) knitted the leftover yarn (CPS) into the scarf (RES).
He (EFC) knitted the scarf (RES) out of the leftover yarn (CPS).
He (EFC) knitted the scarf (RES) with the leftover yarn (ASC).
The (knitted) yarn (POS) has the (unknitted) yarn (ASC).
114 Chapter Two
Again, the above representations capture the facts correctly and yield the correct results. In both
examples, the (knitted) yarn (AFR) will reduce to POS via NSR so that both (86a) and (86b) entail
that the (knitted) yarn contains the (unknitted) yarn (ASC).
2.11 INCORPORATION.
Frequently, the meaning of a word is complex and contains several distinct elements. For example,
we have suggested that words like teach, inculcate, disabuse, forget, etc. incorporate the idea
KNOWLEDGE–1. In this section, we will explore this hypothesis in more detail beginning with
a discussion of adjective classes in English.
Consider the following three groups of adjectives and their syntactic/semantic restrictions (the
adjective black is intended to refer to skin color only):
(88) a. Joe is black/blond/blind/blue–eyed/feverish.

b. Joe is rich/bearded/drunk./The room is furnished./The shirt is pleated.
c. Joe is quiet/confident/abusive/ambitious/loving.
(89) a. *Joe blackly did it.

b. *Joe richly did it.
c. Joe quietly did it.
(90) a. *Joe did it blackly.

b. *Joe did it richly.
c. Joe did it quietly.
(91) a. *Joe is being black./*What he’s doing is being black.

b. *Joe is being rich./*What he’s doing is being rich.
c. Joe is being quiet./What he’s doing is being quiet.
(92) a. *Joe has been black often in his life.

*I consider Joe black./*He acts black.
b. Joe has been rich often in his life.
I consider Joe rich./He acts rich.
c. Joe has been quiet often in his life.
I consider Joe quiet./He acts quiet.
The first group of adjectives (Class I: ATTRIBUTIVE) includes attributes like skin color, eye color,
and sightedness (88a), which are clear cases of inalienable possessions: they are intrinsic, originate
or result from purely internal conditions or states, and are not reciprocally transferable. Thus, black
in the above examples is used to refer to skin color alone, not behavior.
Chapter Two 115
The second group (Class II: ASSOCIATIVE) includes attributes like affluence, sobriety, and satiety
(88b), which, on the other hand, have the characteristics of alienable possessions: they are extrinsic,
do not result from purely internal conditions or states, and are reciprocally transferable. Being rich,
drunk, or full is a state that generally results from the acquisition or nonacquisition of some external
substance, and one cannot acquire that substance without a concomitant loss elsewhere. Of course,
situations which contradict this are imaginable, and it is entirely possible, if not expected, that other
languages will view things differently (see below); however, in English, the behavior of these
modifiers suggests that they are viewed as involving the transfer of some substance or condition
from without so that they tend to be used as modifiers describing impermanent conditions. Though
they have internal effects, they are properly classed as extrinsic. For this reason, we have the
examples in (92b). If the subject is human, choice becomes possible. On the other hand, there is
no choice, it appears, with regard to attributes like skin color.
The third group (Class III: CIRCUMSTANTIAL) includes inalienable attributes that are nonstative.
They are inalienable because they generally are intrinsic characteristics not acquired from without;
they are nonstative or dynamic, as the examples in (91c) clearly show. Given these qualities, we can
label them CIRCUMSTANTIAL, which is a relation like ATTRIBUTIVE except that it is
[+EXTENSIONAL]. Recall that EXTENSIONAL relations can be dynamic even when they are
["DISJUNCTURAL, "CONJUNCTURAL]. In English, circumstantial adjectives are the basis for
manner adverbs and usually have a variety of paraphrases: X–ly, with X–ness, in an X manner; for
example, quietly, with quiet(ness), in a quiet manner.
There is a fourth group (Class IV: INSTRUMENTAL) of descriptive expressions that completes this
quartet, namely, expressions indicating instrumentality. Their most common use is adverbial, and,
in this regard, they are very much like Class III manner adverbs. We have examples like (93).
(93) a. He viewed the heavens telescopically. (=with a telescope; using a telescope)

b. He fastened the handouts with a stapler.
c. He loaded the hay with a pitchfork.
d. He stabbed the soldier with a bayonet.
As adjectives and/or verbs, we have examples like those in (94).
(94) a. The landing gear is telescopic. (=operates with a telescope)

b. The handouts are all stapled.
c. The hay was pitchforked into the wagon.
d. He bayoneted the soldier.
The use of instrumental adjectives as predicate adjectives referring to animate subjects or as

prenominal modifiers (a telepathic man) is somewhat marginal; typically, instrumental expressions
are verbal modifiers (93). For this reason, examples of Class IV modifiers were not given along
with the other three classes in (88) ) (92). Class I and II expressions are mainly descriptive
adjectives. Class III modifiers are common as both descriptive adjectives (ambitious) and manner
adverbs (ambitiously).
116 Chapter Two
Classes I and II are found mainly in phrases with noun heads; Classes III and IV, in phrases with
verb heads. But there is overlap: all classes are potentially predicate adjectives (Class IV, rarely).
As a group, these four modifiers, (ATTRIBUTIVE, ASSOCIATIVE, CIRCUMSTANTIAL, and
INSTRUMENTAL) share the following features: [–POSITIONAL, "DISJUNCTURAL,
"CONJUNCTURAL, –FIRST ORDER]. ATTRIBUTIVE and CIRCUMSTANTIAL, furthermore,
are [+PROXIMAL], while ASSOCIATIVE and INSTRUMENTAL are [–PROXIMAL].
Class membership for modifiers must be assigned with great care for several reasons. First,
modifiers often have more than one sense. Sometimes there is a meaning change: rich meaning
‘wealthy, vivid, full,’ etc. The word microscopically, as an INSTRUMENTAL adverb, means ‘with
a microscope,’ but as a CIRCUMSTANTIAL adverb, means with great detail; thus, (95) is
ambiguous (See Quirk, R. et al. 1985, Chapter Eight, for discussion).
(95) He examined the specimen microscopically.
INSTRUMENTAL expressions typically involve something that is used as a tool even when they
do not specify a concrete object as in He used statistics in his analysis. CIRCUMSTANTIAL
expressions, on the other hand, do not involve something that is used as a tool; rather, they describe
the manner in which an act is done. As a result, a sentence like He analyzed the problem
statistically can be paraphrased by In analyzing the problem, he made use of statistics. On the other
hand, He analyzed the problem confidently would not ordinarily be paraphrased by In analyzing the
problem, he made use of confidence. In (95), microscopically refers either to the tool used in the
examination or to the manner in which the examination was conducted. Only the former reading
can be paraphrased by In examining the specimen, he made use of a microscope.
Second, modifiers can often be used with more than one orientation. For example, cleverly, is a
subject–oriented modifier in (96a), but a verb–oriented modifier (CIRCUMSTANTIAL) in (96b)
(See Jackendoff 1972, Chapter Three, for discussion).
(96) a. Cleverly, Joe answered the question. (= Joe was clever to answer the question.)
b. Joe answered the question cleverly. (= The manner in which Joe answered the
question was clever.)
Third, modifiers have both literal and extended senses. For example, blind denotes ‘lack of sight,’
but connotes ‘lack of discernment.’ The denotative meaning is ATTRIBUTIVE, referring to an
inalienable characteristic; the connotative meaning is CIRCUMSTANTIAL, referring to a dynamic,
optional characteristic. In (97), the meaning must be CIRCUMSTANTIAL.
(97) a. Joe acted blindly.

b. Don’t be so blind.
Fourth, there are some modifiers which, though related semantically, are best treated separately
because their usages are so different. For example, the adjective nervous has a clearly
ATTRIBUTIVE use in (98a), but is more commonly used as a CIRCUMSTANTIAL modifier (98b).
Chapter Two 117
(98) a. This is nervous tissue. (cf. *This tissue is nervous.)
b. Joe is a nervous person. (cf. Don’t be so nervous.)
To summarize, the individual modifiers display the following characteristics:
(99) CLASS I: ATTRIBUTIVE. Example: black meaning ‘having black skin color.’
a. Do not occur in the progressive or imperative: *Joe is being too black./*Do be black.
b. Do not allow frequentative expressions: *Joe is often black.
c. Cannot modify the verb do: *Joe did it blackly.
(100) CLASS II: ASSOCIATIVE. Example: rich meaning ‘having a lot of money.’
a. Do not occur in the progressive or imperative: *Joe is being too rich./*Do be rich.
b. Do allow frequentative expressions: Joe is often rich.
c. Cannot modify the verb do: *Joe did it richly.
(101) CLASS III: CIRCUMSTANTIAL. Example: quiet meaning ‘making little noise.’
a. Do occur in the progressive and imperative: Joe is being too quiet./Do be quiet.
b. Do allow frequentative expressions: Joe is often quiet.
c. Can modify the verb do: Joe did it quietly.
d. Cannot be paraphrased by make use of: *He made use of quiet in doing it.
(102) CLASS IV: INSTRUMENTAL. Example: statistical meaning ‘using statistics.’
a. Do occur in the progressive and imperative: Joe is being too statistical./Don’t be so

statistical.
b. Do allow frequentative expressions: Joe is often statistical.
c. Can modify the verb do: Joe did it statistically.
d. Can be paraphrased by make use of: Joe made use of statistics in doing it.
As we have noted, the adjectival constructions above alternate with verbal and prepositional
constructions that have similar meanings:
(103) ATTRIBUTIVE.
a. a freckly face/his face has freckles/a face with freckles

b. a shiny floor/the floor has a shine/a floor with a shine
c. a long–legged woman/the woman has long legs/a woman with long legs
118 Chapter Two
(104) ASSOCIATIVE.
a. a furnished room/the room has furniture/a room with furniture

b. a coiffured woman/the woman has a coiffure/a woman with a coiffure
c. a ruffled skirt/the skirt has ruffles/a shirt with ruffles
(105) CIRCUMSTANTIAL.
a. an ambitious woman/the woman has ambition/a woman with ambition

b. a scrupulous man/the man has scruples/a man with scruples
c. a patient teacher/the teacher has patience/a teacher with patience
(106) INSTRUMENTAL.
a. a surgical treatment/he used surgery in the treatment/to treat with surgery

b. a statistical analysis/he used statistics in the analysis/to analyze with statistics
c. a metaphorical description/he used metaphor in the description/to describe with
metaphor
There are negative counterparts of the above four classes as our theory predicts:
(107) NONATTRIBUTIVE.
a. a unfreckled face/his face has no freckles/a face without freckles

b. a fearless man/he has no fears/a man without fear
c. a toothless animal/the animal has no teeth/an animal without teeth
(108) NONASSOCIATIVE
a. an unfurnished room/the room has no furniture/a room without furniture

b. an unsigned check/the check has no signature/a check without a signature
c. a shoeless beggar/the beggar has no shoes/a beggar without shoes
(109) NONCIRCUMSTANTIAL.
a. an unambitious woman/the woman has no ambition/a woman without ambition

b. an undisciplined child/the child has no discipline/a child without discipline
c. a purposeless job/the job has no purpose/a job without a purpose
(110) NONINSTRUMENTAL.
a. a nonsurgical treatment/he used no surgery in the treatment/to treat without surgery

b. salt–free cooking/he used no salt in his cooking/to cook without salt
c. an unguarded prison/they used no guards in the prison/to imprison without guards
Chapter Two 119
Thus, we have adjectival, verbal, and prepositional constructions each occurring both positively and
negatively. As expected, different languages express the same idea in different ways. Consider the
following, where the “a” example is English, the “b” example is German, the “c” example is French
and the “d” example is Italian (the literal translations are in parentheses).
(111) a. I am cold.
b. Mir ist kalt. (To me is cold)
c. J’ai froid. (I have cold)
d. Ho freddo. (I have cold)
(112) a. I am glad.
b. Es freut mich. (It gladdens me)
c. Je suis heureux. (I am happy)
d. Sono contento. (I am content)
(113) a. I am hungry.
b. Ich habe Hunger. (I have hunger)
Ich bin hungrig. (I am hungry)
c. J’ai faim. (I have hunger)
d. Ho fame. (I have hunger)
(114) a. I am in a hurry.
b. Ich bin in der Eile. (I am in the hurry)
c. Je suis pressé. (I am pressed)
d. Ho fretta. (I have hurry)
(115) a. I am sorry.
b. Es tut mir leid. (It does to me sorry)
c. Je (le) regrette. (I (it) regret)
d. Mi dispiace. (It sorrows me)
(116) a. I’m fine.

b. Es geht mir gut. (It goes to me well)
c. Je vais bien. (I go well)
d. Sto bene. (I am/stay well)
Even within any one language there is much idiosyncratic variation. For example, in English, there
are numerous periphrastic expressions using “light” verbs like have, take, make, do, give, etc.
(Cattell 1984). Consider the following:23
(117) a. He had a dream. He dreamt.

b. He had a meeting with her. He met with her.
c. He had an argument with her. He argued with her.
120 Chapter Two
(118) a. He took a bath every day. He bathed every day.
b. He took a walk around the block. He walked around the block.
c. He took a nap. He napped.
d. He took a look at it. He looked at it.
(119) a. He made a dash for his car. He dashed for his car.
b. He made an attempt to finish. He attempted to finish.
c. He made an escape. He escaped.
d. He made an offer of money to her. He offered money to her.
(120) a. He did a dance around the room. He danced around the room.
b. He did a cartwheel. He cartwheeled.
c. He did them harm. He harmed them.
(121) a. He gave her a warning about it. He warned her about it.
b. He gave the children a spanking. He spanked the children.
c. He gave her a kiss. He kissed her.
d. He gave her a back rub. He rubbed her back.
We find light verb paraphrases in other languages as well.24 Consider the following where the
choice of light verb alternative is apparently idiosyncratic (again, the order of languages is English,
German, French, Italian, and the literal translations are in parentheses) :
(122) a. to take a bath

b. baden (to bathe)
c. se baigner (to bathe oneself)
prendre un bain (to take a bath)
d. fare il bagno (to make a bath)
(123) a. to take a nap

b. ein Schläfen halten (to keep a sleep)
c. faire la sieste (to make a nap)
d. fare un somnellino (to make a nap)
(124) a. to take a walk

b. spazierengehen (to go walking)
c. faire un promenade (to make a walk)
d. passeggiare (to walk)
Given these data, it is clear that a mechanism must be found which can reduce the varying
constructions to similar representations thereby facilitating semantic analysis. The varying
expressions in (111) through (116) and the light verb paraphrases in (117) through (124) suggest that
the kinds of spectrum specifications we have already discussed should be extended to cover all
predicates. To see how that can be achieved, recall first that spectrum specifications often contain
Chapter Two 121
a word sense, particularly in the SCT slot. We have discussed examples like (125).
(125) John killed the snake.
(kill (EFC DEATH–1 AFC))
The SCT in this representation is DEATH–1, ‘the state of being dead in an animate being.’ The
lexical specification for DEATH–1 indicates that it is an IPS characteristic, that is, an inalienably
possessed characteristic (the ATTRIBUTIVE theme). This information is incorporated into the
meaning of kill in (125), as well as die in (126) and dead in (127), where the “U” indicates that the
SOURCE is unspecified.
(126) The snake died from overexposure.
(die (CAU DEATH–1 AFC))
(127) The snake is dead.
(dead (U DEATH–1 IPS))
Notice that (125) and (126) are virtually identical, the only difference being the SOURCE of the
death (EFFECTIVE or agent in (125) and CAUSAL in (126)). Both are INGRESSIVE (IGR)
predicates (see Section 2.3, especially Figure Five on Page 87) because the endpoints of their
spectrum specifications are both ["DSJ, –"CNJ]. Thus, excessive smoking killed John and John
died from excessive smoking would have identical spectrum specifications since both have a
CAUSAL theme. The AFFECTIVE theme in both (125) and (126) will reduce, via NONSTATIVE
REDUCTION (NSR) in (see Page 28), to an IPS theme indicating that the snake is the possessor of
the inalienable attribute DEATH–1. Since the transfer involves an inalienable attribute, the
EFFECTIVE theme will not reduce: as discussed in Section 2.6 (Page 93), when an inalienable
attribute arises in an AFC there is no concomitant loss from the EFC, a fact rooted in the nature of
inalienable possession.
Unlike these examples, (127) is a CONGRESSIVE (CGR) predicate since it contains IPS, an
["DSJ, "CNJ] relation. Even if the SOURCE is specified as in (128), the predicate remains stative:
CAU cannot reduce because DEATH–1 is an inalienable attribute.
(128) ?The snake is dead from overexposure.
(dead (CAU DEATH–1 IPS))
Second, notice that many English verbs reduce to one or more incorporated case relations, quite
commonly, to one of the four modifier classes discussed above, ATTRIBUTIVE, ASSOCIATIVE,
CIRCUMSTANTIAL, and INSTRUMENTAL:
122 Chapter Two
(129) Joe killed Bob.
DEATH–1 is ‘the state of being dead in an animate being.’
(kill incorporates DEATH–1 which is ATT)
a. *Joe is being dead.

b. *Joe is often dead. (not literally)
(130) Joe nauseated Bob.

NAUSEA–1 is ‘a bodily disturbance inducing a need to vomit.’
(nauseate incorporates NAUSEA–1 which is ASC)
a. Don’t be nauseous.
b. ?Joe did it nauseously.
(131) The accident troubled Bob.

TROUBLE–1 is ‘a state of distress, affliction, or need.’
(trouble incorporates TROUBLE–1 which is CIR)
a. Don’t be troubled.
b. Joe is often troubled.
(132) Joe hammered the nail.

HAMMER–1 is ‘a hand tool used to exert an impulsive force by striking.’
(hammer incorporates HAMMER–1 which is INS)
a. Joe used a hammer to nail.

b. Joe did the nailing with that hammer.
Examples like (129) ) (132) indicate that some items that occur in a particular slot in a spectrum
specification can be incorporated into a main verb. Since the slots in every spectrum specification
are filled either with feature clusters defining thematic relations or with a word sense, suppose we
say that any word sense mentioned anywhere in a spectrum specification is a concept incorporated
into a predicate’s meaning. Such word senses are abstract universal concepts and have no particular
part of speech. Generally, such a concept is an inalienable SCT, but it could be an alienable SCT
as in butter the bread, salt the soup, desalinate the water, etc. Further, the concept could be a one
that specifies a thematic relation, e.g., INTO–1 is incorporated in the verb enter in sentences like He
entered the room. Incorporated concepts define part of a predicate’s meaning necessary to complete
the spectrum specification. However, these concepts are abstract and not realized in syntax as an
overt phrase with a grammatical function. Thus, (133a) is analyzed like the light verb paraphrase
in (133b).
(133) a. The cop ticketed John.

b. The cop gave John a ticket.
Chapter Two 123
The spectrum specification for (133a) is (134a), instantiated as (134b).
(134) The cop ticketed John. (TICKET–1 is incorporated into the verb)
a. (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR TICKET–1 AFR)

b. (cop FORM–1 John) (cop TICKET–1 John)
The spectrum specification for (133b) is (135a), instantiated as (135b).
(135) The cop gave John a ticket.
a. (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR)

b. (cop FORM–1 John) (cop ticket John)
The difference between the two examples above is that (134) involves the incorporation of the word
sense TICKET–1, whereas (135) involves the actual use of the lexical item ticket. Since TICKET–1
is an alienable possession, it corresponds to the theme ASC in (135).
Sometimes, more than one word sense is incorporated, so that the internal representation of a verb’s
meaning is very complex. For example, consider again the verb wax. On the one hand, this verb
involves reciprocal transfer, the transfer of wax (WAX–1), an ASC possession, from some
U(nderstood) container to the floor. We represent this as (136).
(136) U ) waxed ) the floor

EFR ) WAX–1 ) AFR
But there is more to waxing a floor than simply transferring wax to it. In addition to meaning ‘give
wax to,’ wax means ‘give a shine to’: when one waxes a floor, one transfers the wax to the floor and
then rubs it in to give the floor a shine. Since SHINE–1 is an IPS concept, another part of the
activity of the verb wax has a pointer to ATT. This activity is a case of nonreciprocal transfer, which
we represent as (137).
(137) Joe ) waxed ) the floor

EFC ) SHINE–1 ) AFC
These data indicate that Joe waxed the floor is a composite proposition with the spectrum
specification in (138) instantiated in (139):
(138) (IGR (EFC SHINE–1 AFC) (EFR WAX–1 AFR))
(139) (wax (Joe SHINE–1 the floor) (U WAX–1 the floor))
The above examples involve the incorporation of one or more lexical concepts into the meaning of
lexical items. Verbs similar to wax include poison, where both DEATH–1, or perhaps INJURY–1
124 Chapter Two
(They poisoned him, but he didn’t die), and POISON–1 are transferred; inflate, where both
EXPANSION–1 and AIR–1 are transferred; acidify, where both ACIDITY–1 and ACID–1 are
transferred; and so on.
In a verb such as bleach, the bleach is transferred to the object and its color is removed. Thus, we
have representations like (140).
(140) Joe bleached the fabric.
(IGR (EFC NATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(bleach (Joe COLOR–1 fabric) (U BLEACH–1 fabric))
Other verbs like bleach include anesthetize or numb, where an ANESTHETIC–1 is transferred and
CONSCIOUSNESS–1 or SENSATION–1 is removed; embalm or mummify, where
BODILY_FLUID–1 is replaced with a PRESERVATIVE–1; evaporate, where MOISTURE–1 is
lost as HEAT–1 is gained; and so on.
In some complex cases, the SOURCE or GOAL slots of the spectrum specification have the entire
theme (preposition and object) represented by word senses. This most frequently occurs in verbs
like bottle, pocket, imprison, shelve, land, beach, inter, disinter, unanchor, unfetter, exhume, etc.
For example, consider the representation of pocket in (141), where the notation specifies a
(sub)predicate INTO–1 with an argument POCKET–1.25
(141) Joe (EFC) pocketed the money (ASC).
(IGR (EFC ATT AFC ) (ELA ASC ILL))

(pocket (Joe FORM–1 POCKET–1) (U money (INTO–1 POCKET–1))
Sometimes a modifier theme can be incorporated into the meaning of a verb. Consider the
following:
(142) John ferried to the island.
This sentence can mean either (143) or (144).
(143) John ferried himself to the island./John got himself to the island by ferry.
a. (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ABL ASC ALL)

b. (John FORM–1 island) (U John island)
(144) A ferry got John to the island./A ferry took John to the island.
a. (EXP FORM–1 AFC) (ABL ASC ALL)

b. (ferry FORM–1 island) (U John island)
Chapter Two 125
The same ambiguity in (142) occurs in the following:
(145) a. John took a ferry to the island.

b. John got to the island by ferry.
c. John went to the island by ferry.
Note that (146) can only have the interpretation with John as EFC, that is, (143) not (144).
(146) A ferry was taken to the island by John.
All these examples are related to (147) which have the spectrum specifications in (148):
(147) a. They got John to the island by ferry.

b. They took John to the island by ferry.
c. They ferried John to the island.
(148) a. (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ABL ASC ALL)

b. (they FORM–1 island) (U John island)
The verb ferry has the following theme list:
(149) ferry
a. SUBJECT: EFC
b. PCOMP: ASC
c. SCOMP1: ILL_ALL
d. SCOMP2: ELA_ABL
e. MOD: EXP: (BY–1 FERRY–1)
The modifier theme in this theme list is specified as EXP: (BY–1 FERRY–1), which means that the
preposition BY–1 and its complement FERRY–1 is an incorporated EXPEDIENTIAL phrase (one
that expresses means). The verb also has GOAL ORIENTATION since ILL_ALL is mentioned in
the first SCOMP slot. If the first three slots of the theme list are realized lexically, we get example
(142) with the reading (143) when the EFC and the ASC are coreferential, and example (147c) when
the EFC and the ASC are not coreferential. If the EFC is not instantiated, then the ASC is promoted
to SUBJECT slot, and we get example (142) with the reading (144). These examples can be
generalized to others involving different conveyances:
(150) John jetted to Paris.
a. A jet took John to Paris.

b. John took a jet to Paris.
c. John got to Paris by jet.
d. John went to Paris by jet.
126 Chapter Two
What is needed in the above account is a way to eliminate the redundancies between the spectrum
specifications and the theme list. Further, we need a way to predict which themes can be promoted
up the theme list, e.g., from PCOMP to SUBJECT, when a prior theme is not instantiated. Such
alternations are of the type discussed exhaustively in Levin (1993). We will address these issues
in Chapters Five and Six.
2.12 SUMMARY OF SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS.
Although it is not possible to outline a set of steps by which one can automatically determine the
spectrum specification for individual predicates, we have seen above that there are a number of
guidelines one can follow. The purpose of this summary is to collect those observations into one
section and to present a representative list of spectrum specifications.
First, one must determine whether the specific use of a predicate is [+PST] or [–PST]. As we have
noted, positional predicates have the following characteristics:
(151) a. Positional predicates take complements that are places, e.g., Detroit, desert, and
building.
b. The complements of positional predicates can be filled with positional quantifiers
like here, there, downstairs, overseas, etc.
c. Positional predicates freely occur with phrases containing a distance measurement,
e.g., miles, feet, etc.
d. Positional predicates freely admit positional question phrases like where, how far and
in which direction.
e. Positional predicates enter into construction with a larger range of prepositions than
nonpositional predicates.
Second, one must determine the orientation of the predicate, specifically, whether it has SOURCE
ORIENTATION, GOAL ORIENTATION or NONSPECIFIC ORIENTATION. The indicators of
ORIENTATION are the markers (prepositions, postpositions, or cases) that surface when the themes
have the structure of a prepositional phrase (or postposition phrase or oblique case).
ORIENTATION determines which theme is the primary AFC (affected entity) in the spectrum
specification, except when the subject is an inalienable source (EFC or CPS; see (84)). The two
major groups for English are as follows:
(152) SOURCE ORIENTATION (from, out of, of).
a. He bought the car from her.

b. He lead the army out of the city.
c. He died of cancer.
Chapter Two 127
(153) GOAL ORIENTATION (to, into, for).
a. He sold the car to her.

b. He lead the army into the city.
c. He read for relaxation.
Third, one must determine what specific themes the predicate is subcategorized for. Again, the
indicators of the themes involved are the markers that surface when the themes have the structure
of a prepositional phrase (or postposition phrase or oblique case). The unmarked prepositions for
English are those indicated in Figures One and Two for positional themes (Page 27) and Figures
Three and Four for nonpositional themes (Page 50). Some of the most common nonpositional
themes and their associated, unmarked prepositions in English are the following:
(154) a. [+DSJ, –CNJ]]
1. EFFERENTIAL EFR from He bought it FROM HER.

2. EFFECTIVE EFC from He had a visit FROM HER.
3. COMPOSITIONAL CPS out of He made it OUT OF WOOD.

4. CAUSAL CAU out of He acted OUT OF GUILT.
b. [–DSJ, +CNJ]]
1. AFFERENTIAL AFR to He sold it TO HER.

2. AFFECTIVE AFC to He was mean TO HER
3. BENEFACTIVE BEN for He went to the store FOR HER.

4. PURPOSIVE PUR for He exercises FOR FUN.
c. ["DSJ, "CNJ]
1. ASSOCIATIVE ASC with He supplied her WITH DRUGS.

2. INSTRUMENTAL INS with He built it WITH TOOLS.
3. COMITATIVE COM with He built it WITH HER.
4. CIRCUMSTANTIAL CIR with He built it WITH CARE.
Fourth, one must determine the alienable and inalienable SCT’s (the entity that is Specified,
Changed, or Transferred) in any instance of location ([+PST]) or possession ([–PST]). Once again,
the indicators of the SCT are the markers. Generally, in alienable possession and GOAL
ORIENTATION, the SCT is marked by the preposition with (see (64)); in alienable possession and
SOURCE orientation, it is marked by of (see (66)). Generally, in inalienable possession, the SCT
is an abstract word sense, most commonly FORM–1 (‘the spacial configuration of an object
including any interior space’) or FORM–2 (‘the internal composition of an object, i.e., what it is
made of’). The distinction between FORM–1 and FORM–2 as follows (see Page 89):
128 Chapter Two
(155) FORM–1: pour in He poured the water from the bottle into the glass.
a. FORM–1 involves inalienable attributes of an object’s outward appearance such as

its spatial configuration.
b. FORM–1 is altered in change–of–position predicates like pour.
c. FORM–1 changes are reciprocal (both the SOURCE and the GOAL are affected).
(156) FORM–2: teach in He teaches linguistics to undergraduates.
a. FORM–2 involves inalienable attributes of an object’s inner nature such as what it

is made of, what it knows, and what it experiences.
b. FORM–2 is altered in change–of–state predicates like kill (physiological change),
teach (mental change), and melt (compositional change).
c. FORM–2 changes are nonreciprocal.
It should be clear from the above synopsis that the theory presented in this book places great stress
on the significance of the particular markers that show up in the expression of themes. Although
the uses of prepositions in English often appears to be idiosyncratic, careful examination reveals that
there is an underlying system which predicts which prepositions will mark the themes in an
overwhelming majority of the uses. The same conclusion holds for the markers (prepositions,
postpositions and oblique cases) of themes in languages which differ from English, typologically,
historically and structurally.
We are now in a position to provide some answers to the questions asked in the Preface and repeated
here for convenience.
(157) a. Question: What accounts for the fact that lexical items with similar meaning govern
the same thematic marker (preposition, postposition or grammatical case)? For
example, in English, why are the complements of verbs like remove (She removed
the book from the shelf) and discourage (She discouraged him from going) both
introduced by the same marker from? Why does into show up in both She inserted
the key into the lock and She forced them into reconciling? What accounts for the
fact that similar classes of lexical items exist in other languages as diverse as
Japanese and Newari?
b. Answer: All predicates can be mapped into spectrum specifications of a universal

form that involves a SOURCE, a GOAL, and an SCT (something that is Specified,
Changed, or Transferred). The individual characteristics of spectrum specifications
reveal a typology of predicates, which is grounded in a formal distinction between
positional and nonpositional thematic relations, specific and nonspecific orientation,
and alienable and inalienable possession. Lexical items with similar meanings
govern the same thematic markers because they reduce to the same spectrum
specifications with the same thematic relations. Regardless of the language involved,
thematic markers are predictable from the features which define thematic relations.
Chapter Two 129
(158) a. Question: Why does the same thematic marker show up repeatedly in the world’s
languages for the same set of thematic relations? For example, why is the English
preposition to used to indicate the goal of motion (He flew to Paris), the recipient
(He gave it to her), and the person affected (He was mean to her)? And why are the
same three relations expressed by the preposition i in Welsh and the preposition a in
Italian, by the postposition ni in Japanese and the postposition ko in Hindi, by the
allative case in Finnish and Estonian and by the dative case in Latin, Sanskrit and
Turkish?
b. Answer: Thematic relations are semantic categories that consist of semantic features
defined in terms of human visual perception. The same marker is used for a set of
thematic relations because the relations in the set are defined by the same semantic
features. The markers (prepositions, postpositions, and cases) reflect the features,
not the thematic relations.
(159) a. Question: How can the uses of particular markers be generalized so that the
individual uses do not have to be listed? Specifically, is there some element common
to all uses of a preposition like to in English so that the presence of that element
“triggers” its occurrence? Further, can the same common element be generalized to
account for the use of the postposition ni in Japanese, the dative case in Turkish, and
semantically related markers in other languages?
b. Answer: The use of thematic markers can be generalized by making reference to the
features that make up the thematic relations the markers represent.
(160) a. When a language loses a particular thematic marker over time, say, a grammatical
say, the Greek dative? How does one account for the evolution of a language like
Latin, which marks many thematic relations with specific grammatical cases, into
one like Italian, which marks those same relations with prepositions?
b. Answer: The answer to this question is a combination of the preceding two answers.
We will explore the matter fully in Chapter Four.
Given the above remarks we have the following typical examples of spectrum specifications
involving POSITIONAL and NONPOSITIONAL predicates.
130 Chapter Two
POSITIONAL PREDICATES
(161) a. GOAL ORIENTATION ([+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] | [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ]).
IGR: John inserted the key into the lock./John put the spoon into the cup.
(insert (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL2))

(insert (John FORM–1 lock) (U key lock))
CGR: The key is in the lock.
(be (U ASC LOC2))

(be (U key lock))
b. SOURCE ORIENTATION ([+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] | [+PST, +DSJ, +CNJ]).
IGR: John extracted the key from the lock./John took the spoon out of the cup.
(take (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA2 ASC ILL_ALL))

(take (John FORM–1 lock) (lock key U))
CGR: The key is out of the lock.
(be (U ASC ABS2))
GOAL ORIENTATION ([+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] | [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ]).

(be (U key lock))
(162) a.
IGR: John moved Sue into the house.
(move (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL2))

(move (John FORM–1 house) (U Sue house))
CGR: Sue lives in the house.
(live (U ASC LOC2))

(live (U Sue house))
IGR: John moved Sue out of the house.
(move (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA2 ASC ILL_ALL))

(move (John FORM–1 house) (house Sue U))
CGR: Sue lives out of the house.

(live (U ASC ABS2))
(live (U Sue house))
Chapter Two 131
IGR: John moved into the house.
(move (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL2))

(move (John FORM–1 house) (U SELF–1 house))
CGR: John lives in the house.
(live (U ASC LOC2))

(live (U John house))
IGR: John moved out of the house.
(move (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA2 ASC ILL_ALL))

(move (John FORM–1 house) (house SELF–1 U))
CGR: John lives out of the house.
(live (U ASC ABS2))

(live (U John house))
IGR: John entered the room.
(enter (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL2))

(enter (John FORM–1 room) (U SELF–1 room))
CGR: John is in the room.
(be (U ASC LOC2))

(be (U John room))
IGR: John exited the room.
(exit (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA2 ASC ILL_ALL))

(exit (John FORM–1 room) (room SELF–1 U))
CGR: John is out of the room.
(be (U ASC ABS2))

(be (U John room))
132 Chapter Two
IGR: John poured the water into the tub.
(pour (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL2))

(pour (John FORM–1 tub) (U water tub))
CGR: The water is in the tub.
(be (U ASC LOC2))

(be (U water tub))
IGR: John poured the water out of the tub.
(pour (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA2 ASC ILL_ALL))

(pour (John FORM–1 tub) (tub water U))
CGR: The water is out of the tub.
(be (U ASC ABS2))

(be (U water tub))
IGR: John stood the vase on the table.
(stand (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL1))

(stand (John FORM–1 vase) (U vase table))
CGR: The vase is standing on the table.
(stand (U ASC LOC1))

(stand (U vase table))
IGR: John stood the vase away from the table.
(stand (EFC ATT AFC) (ABL2 ASC ILL_ALL))

(stand (John FORM–1 vase) (table vase U))
CGR: The vase is standing away from the table.
(stand (U ASC ABE2))

(stand (U vase table))
Chapter Two 133
IGR: John jumped onto the horse.
(jump (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL1))

(jump (John FORM–1 horse) (U SELF–1 horse))
CGR: John is on the horse.
(be (U ASC LOC1))

(be (U John horse))
IGR: John jumped off the horse.
(jump (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA1 ASC ILL_ALL))

(jump (John FORM–1 horse) (horse SELF–1 U))
CGR: John is off the horse.
(be (U ASC ABS1))

(be (U John horse))
IGR: The lamp fell onto the floor.
(fall (CAU ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL1))

(fall (U FORM–1 floor) (U lamp floor))
CGR: The lamp is on the floor.
(be (U ASC LOC1))

(be (U lamp floor))
IGR: The lamp fell off the table.
(fall (CAU ATT AFC) (ELA1 ASC ILL_ALL))

(fall (U FORM–1 table) (table lamp U))
CGR: The lamp is off the table.
(be (U ASC ABS1))

(be (U lamp table))
NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES
134 Chapter Two
(169) a. GOAL ORIENTATION ([–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] | [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ]).
IGR: John sold the car to Sue./John gave the car to Sue.
(sell (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(sell (John FORM–1 Sue) (U car Sue))
CGR: Sue owns the car./Sue has the car.
(own (U ASC APS))

(own (U car Sue))
b. SOURCE ORIENTATION ([–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] | [–PST, +DSJ, +CNJ]).
IGR: John bought the car from Sue./John took the car from Sue.
(buy (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(buy (John FORM–1 Sue) (U car John))
CGR: Sue does not own the car./Sue does not have the car.
(own (U ASC NAPS))

(own (U car Sue))
IGR: John provided Sue with that right.
(provide (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(provide (John FORM–1 Sue) (U right Sue))
CGR: Sue has that right.
(have (U ASC APS))

(have (U right Sue))
IGR: John deprived Sue of that right.
(deprive (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(deprive (John FORM–1 Sue) (Sue right U))
CGR: Sue lacks that right.
(lack (U ASC NAPS))

(lack (U right Sue))
Chapter Two 135
IGR: John filled the tub with water.
(fill (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(fill (John FORM–1 tub) (U water tub))
CGR: The tub is full of water./The tub is filled with water.
(full (U ASC APS))

(full (U water tub))
IGR: The king robbed those rights from the women./The king robbed the women of those rights.
(rob (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(rob (king FORM–1 women) (women rights U))
CGR: The women lack those rights./The women are bereft of those rights.
(lack (U ASC NAPS))

(lack (U rights women))
IGR: John showed the car to Sue.
(show (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(show (John VISION–1 Sue) (U car Sue))
CGR: Sue saw the car.
(see (U ATT IPS) (U ASC APS))

(see (U VISION–1 Sue) (U car Sue))
IGR: John stole the car from Sue.
(steal (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(steal (John FORM–1 Sue) (Sue car U))
CGR: Sue lost the car to John.
(lose (NAPS ASC APS))

(lose (Sue car John))
136 Chapter Two
IGR: John taught French to Sue./John taught Sue French
(teach (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(teach (John KNOWLEDGE–1 Sue) (U French Sue))
CGR: Sue knows French.
(know (U ATT IPS) (U ASC APS))

(know (U KNOWLEDGE–1 Sue) (U French Sue))
IGR: John disabused Sue of such ideas.
(diabuse (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(disabuse (John DISBELIEF–1 Sue) (Sue ideas U))
CGR: Sue doesn’t have such ideas.
(have (U ATT IPS) (NAPS ASC U))

(have (U DISBELIEF–1 Sue) (Sue ideas U))
(174) a. GOAL ORIENTATION ([–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] | [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] (Primary AFC is AFR)).
IGR: Sue learned French from John.
(teach (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(teach (Sue KNOWLEDGE–1 Sue) (John French Sue))
CGR: Sue knows French.
(know (U ATT IPS) (U ASC APS))

(know (U KNOWLEDGE–1 Sue) (U French Sue))
IGR: Therapy erased the incident from Sue’s mind.
(erase (EFC NATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(erase (therapy MEMORY–1 mind) (mind incident U))
CGR: Sue forget the incident.
(forget (U NATT IPS) (NAPS ASC U))

(forget (U MEMORY–1 Sue) (Sue incident U))
Chapter Two 137
IGR: John corked the bottle.
(cork (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(cork (John FORM–1 bottle) (U CORK–1 bottle))
CGR: The bottle has a cork.
(have (U ASC APS))

(have (U cork bottle))
IGR: John uncorked the bottle.
(uncork (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(uncork (John FORM–1 bottle) (bottle CORK–1 U))
CGR: The bottle lacks a cork.
(lack (U ASC NAPS))

(lack (U cork bottle))
IGR: The cop gave John a ticket.

(give (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
(give (cop FORM–1 John) (U ticket John))
IGR: The cop ticketed John.

(ticket (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
(ticket (cop FORM–1 John) (U TICKET–1 John))
CGR: John has a ticket.

(have (U ASC APS))
(have (U ticket John))
IGR: The cop stripped John of his clothes./The cop stripped the clothes off John.
(strip (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
(strip (cop FORM–1 John) (John clothes U))
IGR: The cop stripped John.

(strip (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
(strip (cop FORM–1 John) (John CLOTHES–1 U))
CGR: John has no clothes.

(have (U ASC NAPS))
(have (U clothes John))
138 Chapter Two
IGR: The butler shined the silver with this polish.
(shine (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(shine (butler SHINE–1 silver) (U polish silver))
IGR: The butler polished the silver.
(polish (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(polish (butler SHINE–1 silver) (U POLISH–1 silver))
CGR: The silver has a shine./The silver is shiny.
(have (U ATT IPS))

(have (U shine silver))
CGR: The silver has polish.
(have (U ASC APS))

(have (U polish silver))
IGR: John bleached the color from the shirt./John bleached the shirt of color.
(bleach (EFC NATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(bleach (John COLOR–1 shirt) (U BLEACH–1 shirt))
IGR: John bleached the shirt.
(bleach (EFC NATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(bleach (John COLOR–1 shirt) (U BLEACH–1 shirt))
CGR: The shirt has no color.
(have (U NATT IPS))

(have (U color shirt))
CGR: The shirt has bleach.
(have (U ASC APS))

(have (U bleach shirt))
Chapter Two 139
IGR: John killed the snake with this poison.
(kill (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(kill (John DEATH–1 snake) (U poison snake))
IGR: John poisoned the snake.
(poison (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(poison (John DEATH–1 snake) (U POISON–1 snake))
IGR: The snake died from the poison.
(die (CAU ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(die (poison DEATH–1 snake) (U poison snake))
CGR: The snake is dead from the poison.
(dead (CAU ATT IPS))

(dead (poison DEATH–1 snake))
IGR: John killed the snake with this poison.
(kill (EFC NATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(kill (John LIFE–1 snake) (U poison snake))
IGR: John poisoned the snake.
(poison (EFC NATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))

(poison (John LIFE–1 snake) (U POISON–1 snake))
IGR: The snake died from the poison.
(die (CAU NATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

(die (poison LIFE–1 snake) (U poison snake))
CGR: The snake is dead from the poison.
(dead (CAU NATT IPS))

(dead (poison LIFE–1 snake))
140 Chapter Two
(179) a. [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] | [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ]
IGR: John got Ed into debt.
(get (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR TRM AFR))

(get (John FORM–1 Ed) (U debt Ed))
CGR: Ed is in debt./Ed has debt.
(have (U ASC APS))

(have (U debt Ed))
b. [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] | [–PST, +DSJ, +CNJ]
IGR: John got Ed out of debt.
(get (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ORG AFR))

(get (John FORM–1 Ed) (U debt Ed))
CGR: Ed is out of debt./Ed has no debt.
(lack (U NASC APS))

(lack (U debt Ed))
(180) a. [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] | [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] (changes the story receives left unspecified)
IGR: They developed the story into a novel.
(develop (EFC ATT AFC) (CPS ATT RES))

(develop (they FORM–1 story) (story GROWTH–1 novel))
IGR: The story developed into a novel./The story became a novel.
(develop (U ATT AFC) (CPS ATT RES))

(develop (U FORM–1 story) (story GROWTH–1 novel))
b. [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] | [–PST, +DSJ, +CNJ] (changes the story receives left unspecified)
IGR: They developed a novel out of the story.
(develop (EFC ATT AFC) (CPS ATT RES))

(develop (they FORM–1 story) (story GROWTH–1 novel))
IGR: A novel developed out of the story.
(develop (U ATT AFC) (CPS ATT RES))

(develop (U FORM–1 story) (story GROWTH–1 novel))
Chapter Two 141
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER TWO
1. For a discussion of metaphorical ([–PST]) uses of positional predicates, e.g., John put his ideas
into words, see Lakoff and Johnson 1980.
2. Sometimes a considerable amount of abstraction is required to explicate the way in which a

nonpositional predicate reduces to an expression involving possession. In a sentence like He washed
the dishes, the dishes become dispossessed of whatever is soiling them (grime, grease, etc.). In one
like He turned into a prince, he comes to possess the characteristics of a prince. For further
examples of spectrum specifications, Section 2.12, A Summary of Spectrum Specifications, Page
126 ff.
3. The close relationship between positional and nonpositional expressions is further evidenced by
the fact that the quantifiers far, farther, further, etc. are often used for both:
(i) a. John went very far into the cave.

b. John went very far into debt.
(ii) a. How far into the cave did he go?

b. How far into debt did he go?
4. Since Gruber’s dissertation (Gruber 1965), many linguists have referred to this entity with the
label THEME, the current label of choice within Government and Binding Theory (Haegeman 1994,
Chapter 1) and its descendants (Chomsky 1995: 30). Fillmore first referred to it as OBJECT, then
OBJECTIVE. It has also been called PATIENT, GOAL, and NEUTRAL.
5. I have no explanation for why sentences containing both ELATIVE and ILLATIVE themes
realized with the prepositions out of and into are better when and occurs between the themes,
whereas sentences containing the same themes realized with the prepositions from and to are worse,
if not ungrammatical, when and occurs between the themes. Consider the following in a situation
where the kitchen and the dining room are adjoining rooms:
(i) John walked out of the kitchen (and) into the dining room.
(ii) John walked from the kitchen (*and) to the dining room.
6. When themes are separated by an underscore, e.g., ASC_NASC_TRM_ORG, the notation signifies
that they are an abbreviation for a feature cluster. For example, the previous four themes are
uniquely [–PST, –PRX, –FST, –EXT].
142 Chapter Two
7. As we indicated in Section 1.12 (Page 56), words in all capital letters followed by a numerical
suffix, e.g., FORM–1, FORM–2, etc. are language independent word senses. Let us assume, for
example, that FORM–1 means ‘the spatial form of an object including any interior space(s).’ As
we noted in Chapter One, the definitions that accompany the word senses used throughout this book
are for expository purposes only. Technically, the meaning of a word sense is no more than the sum
of all the links that the word sense has in the semantic network. This applies to the word senses in
the Langtech Parser and to the entries found in other semantic networks. For example, in WordNet
(Miller and Fellbaum 1992), the word sense FORM–1, as used in the present book, is identified as
“Sense 6” of the word form: “shape, form -- (the spatial arrangement of something as distinct from
its substance).” In all, WordNet lists eleven senses for the noun form and seven senses for the verb
form. Thus, a complete printout of all the links to the word form would be very, very long. To take
a simpler and more manageable example, in WordNet, the English word piano has two senses, one
denoting the musical instrument, the other denoting softness. Traversing the links of the first sense,
one finds the following paths among others (the actual printout in my word processor is four pages):
(i) piano => stringed instrument => musical instrument => device => object => entity
(ii) piano HAS PART: keyboard

piano HAS PART: soft pedal
piano HAS PART: sounding board
Thus, a piano is a stringed musical instrument with a keyboard, soft pedal and soundboard. As this
example shows the meaning of the word piano is, in effect, derivable from the sum of the links the
word has to other nodes in the network. Since the number of links for most words is very large, the
definitions we supply, such as the definition of FORM–1 directly above, are only rough
approximations. In Chapter Five, p. 322 ff., I will discuss word senses in more detail providing
examples from the Langtech Parser and presenting further examples from WordNet beyond those
already mentioned. For some specific examples of word senses from the Langtech Parser, see
examples (115) – (119) beginning on Page 418 below.
For a very different approach to semantic categorization which attempts to account for the meaning
of all English words in terms of 118 concept categories, see Laffal 1973. For another approach that
seeks to define all the words in a language in terms of a base vocabulary of word senses, the reader
is referred to The Cambridge International Dictionary of English (Procter 1995) which defines
100,000 English words and phrases in terms of a 2000–word defining vocabulary. Compare also
the Cambridge “Word Routes” series, e.g., Cambridge Word Routes, Anglais–Français (McCarthy
1994) and Cambridge Word Routes, Inglese–Italiano (McCarthy 1995). Lastly, see Cruse (1986)
for a discussion of important relationships between lexical entries especially typological
relationships (taxonomy, hyponymy, hypernymy) and componential relationships (meronymy,
holonymy), and Lehrer and Kittay 1992 for a collection of papers on semantic and lexical
organization.
8. Of course, we have expressions like he came back from the dead. Further, modern medicine has
provided the tools to revive patients who are clinically dead. As I noted in our original discussion
Chapter Two 143
of inalienable possession, such occurrences must be viewed as requiring special circumstances
which derive from scientific advancement, not language.
9. Typically, IGR (nonstative) predicates express an activity initiated by some causer which, in the
prototypical clause, is some EFC (the agent), a willful animate being. Sometimes the EFC is a force,
e.g., A tornado destroyed the town. The passive of an EFC theme is marked by the preposition by,
whether an animate being or a force: The town was destroyed by John/a tornado.
Sometimes, the causer is not represented by the EFC relation, but by another relation that usually
functions as a modifier, in particular, by the CAUSAL and EXPEDIENTIAL (means) relations:
(i) a. Sue ran away from home out of fear. CAUSAL as MODIFIER
b. John went to the island by Ferry. EXPEDIENTIAL as MODIFIER
(ii) a. Fear caused Sue to run away from home. CAUSAL as SUBJECT
b. A ferry took John to the island. EXPEDIENTIAL as SUBJECT
When a predicate has no EFC, a CAUSAL or EXPEDIENTIAL theme can occupy the inalienable
source slot in a spectrum specification. INSTRUMENTAL themes, which can also function as
subject, tend more often to be used by an EFC and transferred by that EFC to the GOAL during the
execution of an activity. Still, they can be subjects:
(iii) a. John killed the ants with poison. INSTRUMENT as MODIFIER and
ALIENABLE SCT
b. The poison killed the ants. INSTRUMENT as SUBJECT.
We will see a variety of uses of these themes in the pages that follow. In Chapter Six, I will specify
the principles that allow various themes to assume subject position other than the typical EFC.
There, I will argue that INSTRUMENTAL themes cannot, in fact, serve as subjects when they have
a purely instrumental sense.
10. It may seem unnecessary to include so much unspecified information in a semantic

representation, but that is not the case. Without some conceptually understood cause, for example,
a sentence like The lamp accidentally fell off the table, would be hard to fathom.
With regard to the SCT, Blake, B. (1994: 69) makes the following remark: “A number of linguists
including Gruber (1976: 38) have claimed that it [THEME, our SCT] is an obligatory role, though
that would not appear to be true for a small number of one–place predicates such as SHOUT and
URINATE.” As we will see, even in these predicates there is an SCT in the spectrum specification,
but it is abstract and not instantiated as an argument in the syntax. For example, John shouted into
the well and John urinated into the well have the following representations:
(i) (shout (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))

(shout (John FORM–1 well) (U SHOUT–1 well))
144 Chapter Two
(ii) (urinate (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))
(urinate (John FORM–1 well) (U URINE–1 well))
John shouted and John urinated have the following representations (cf. John let out a shout that
shook the rafters and John took a leak):
(iii) (shout (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))

(shout (John FORM–1 U) (U SHOUT–1 U))
(iv) (urinate (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))

(urinate (John FORM–1 U) (U URINE–1 U))
Predicates with an understood body–part object like blink (one’s eyes) or cognate object like sleep
(a sleep) will be discussed in detail in Chapter Six in connection with the alternations found in Levin
1993.
11. Specifically, if the GOAL or the SOURCE is the direct object, the possession/dispossession
is viewed as complete. Compare, he sprayed the paint on the wall and he sprayed the wall with
paint. For discussion and comment see Andersen (1971) and Fillmore (1977). I will return to such
examples in Chapter Six.
12. It may appear that the SCT in these verbs is not inalienable because recovery is often possible,
that is, something that has been polished may (and probably will) lose its shine. In the next section,
I will argue that these kinds of inalienable characteristics are CIRCUMSTANTIAL, not
ATTRIBUTIVE because their possession is dynamic (see Figure Three on Page 50). For the
moment, observe that an attribute such as a shine is not reciprocally transferred, that is, the shine
does not leave some other object to become the possession of the thing polished. Nonreciprocal
transfer is the essential nature of inalienable possession (Section 1.8.1 on Page 37). Further, notice
also that both ATTRIBUTIVE and CIRCUMSTANTIAL themes are [+PROXIMAL], the feature
used (metaphorically) to express inalienable possession (Section 1.9.1 on Page 40).
13. Since there are sentences like the butler used polish to shine the silver, POLISH–1 in the
butler polished the silver is both ASC (the alienable substance transferred) and INS (the instrument),
that is, it is ASC_INS or [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –FST]. Notice that secondary instruments are also
possible:
(i) The butler polished the silver with this polish.

(ii) The butler polished the silver with that cloth.
(iii) The butler polished the silver with this polish and that cloth.
(iv) The butler shined the silver with this polish and that cloth.
Some speakers may feel that SHINE–1 cannot be part of the meaning of polish because it is possible
to say The butler polished the silver, but couldn’t get it to shine. Despite the fact that standard
Chapter Two 145
dictionaries define the word polish as imparting some sort of shine, refinement or veneer to an
object, if speakers accept such sentences, we are forced to conclude that there is more than one verb
polish. In one, SHINE–1 is transferred; in the other, the inalienable attribute affected is simply the
FORM–1 of the object. We can generalize such variation over other verbs by including the
following lexical redundancy rule:
(v) Verbs which involve the transference of a FORM–2 inalienable attribute can have an
alternative meaning where the inalienable attribute affected is the simply object’s FORM–1.
This redundancy rule will account for all of the following:
(vi) The butler polished the silver, but couldn’t get it to shine.
(vii) John waxed the floor over and over, but it’s still as dull as can be.
(viii) He bleached the fabric, but none of the color came out.
(ix) The doctor anesthetized the patient; yet, the patient (claims he) was fully awake and felt
everything.
14. Recall that this was a primary concern in Chapter One. If an arbitrary device such as a
machine is to really acquire language, there must be some way to relate abstract notions to concrete
ones. We return to this matter in Chapter Five.
15. Notice that there is a direct connection always between the inalienable and alienable SCT.
In an example like he poured the water into the glass, the alienable SCT is water. The inalienable
SCT is the FORM–1 of the glass, that is, its interior space. That FORM–1 is altered in a specific
way due to the nature of water. Note the difference in he poured the sand into the sandbox, where
the sand might all be piled in the middle, a result that is possible because of the nature of sand.
Similarly, in he teaches algebra to engineers, the alienable SCT is algebra, while the inalienable
SCT is the knowledge of the engineers. Knowledge is a type of FORM–2 (inalienable aspect) of
the engineers. This is altered in a specific way due to the nature of the thing taught; specifically, in
the example, the engineers gain knowledge of algebra (or at least that is the intent). Knowledge of
algebra is different from algebra itself. Thus, a sentence like I wish I understood algebra refers to
a specific branch of mathematics of which one does not have knowledge. The distinction is essential
to the understanding of many expressions, e.g., I sort of understand algebra, meaning my knowledge
of algebra is incomplete. The thing taught is often very complex. Consider, for example, he teaches
aerobics to heart patients, where much more than the heart patients’ knowledge of aerobics is
affected. Like the discussion of water and sand above, this has to do with the difference between the
nature of algebra and the nature of aerobics. I will not discuss these complexities here since they
have more to do with (meta)physics than language.
16. In this spectrum specification, we see that the metaphorical use of the [±FST] distinction is
global and spreads over all predicates. Basically, all transfers involve a SOURCE and a GOAL
which are viewed as endpoints ([+FST]) of the transfer. The SCT is that object or attribute which
146 Chapter Two
“moves” from one point to the other.
17. A predicate like kill can be viewed as giving DEATH–1 or taking LIFE–1. Similarly, die can
be viewed as either gaining DEATH–1 or losing LIFE–1. We can account for this with the concept
of absolute opposites discussed in Section 1.5 (Page 33), from which we can form the following
equations (see also NSR in Section 2.8, Page 98 ff. directly below):
(i) DEAD = NOT ALIVE

ALIVE = NOT DEAD
Given the equations in (i), we can represent Bill died as either of the following:
(ii) CAU ATT AFC

U DEATH–1 Bill
(iii) CAU NATT AFC

U LIFE–1 Bill
Similarly, we can represent Bill is dead as either of the following:
(iv) CAU ATT IPS

U DEATH–1 Bill
(v) CAU NATT IPS

U LIFE–1 Bill
Notice that we have both Bill met his death in the war and Bill lost his life in the war, as well as
They put Bill to death and They took Bill’s life. The essential point is that dead and alive must be
related quite simply because speaker’s know that all the examples in the previous sentence reduce
Bill to the same state. For a complete specification of the alternative representations of kill, die, and
dead, see Section 2.12, A Summary of Spectrum Specifications, Page 126 ff.
Of these representations, (ii) and (iv) seem more justifiable than (iii) and (v) for the analysis of die
and dead, respectively. Notice that we have the following:
(iv) a. Death to all who disagree with me!

b. *No life to all who disagree with me!
(v) a. It is deadly to children.

b. *It is lifeless to children.
To simplify the discussion, I will therefore generally discuss kill, die and dead in terms of
representations like (ii) and (iv). However, it is important to stress that one advantage of the present
model is that it allows us to relate the alternatives in a very direct way.
Chapter Two 147
18. A dative of separation also occurs in German, though German grammarians do not ordinarily
refer to it as such. Consider the following examples from Foley and Van Valin 1985:292:
(i) Das Kind nimmt dem Mann die Gemüse

the (NOM) child take the (DAT) man the (ACC) vegetables
‘The child takes the vegetables from the man.’
(ii) Der Mann gibt dem Kind die Gemüse

the (NOM) man give the (DAT) child the (ACC) vegetables
‘The man gives the vegetables to the child.’
19. An adequate theory of thematic relations must assign a theme even to infinitives, gerunds, and
full clauses (Jackendoff 1993: 49 ff.). This is necessary to account for examples like the following.
(i) a. We forced them into reconciliation.

b. We forced them into reconciling.
c. We forced them to reconcile.
d. They were forced by us into reconciliation.

e. They were forced by us into reconciling.
f. They were forced by us to reconcile.
If into the lock in (ii) is ILLATIVE, which it most certainly is, then the SCOMP in all the examples
in (i) must also be some [+DSJ, "CNJ] theme. This includes the gerunds and the infinitives.
(ii) He forced the key into the lock.
There are many sets of examples which have nominals of various kinds alternating with infinitives
and clauses:
(iii) a. I wish them success.

b. I want them to succeed.
c. I hope that they succeed.
(iv) a. She recommends regular exercise to her patients.

b. She recommends to her patients that they exercise regularly.
c. She urges her patients to exercise regularly.
(v) a. They prefer relaxation rather than hard work.

b. They prefer relaxing rather than working hard.
c. They prefer to relax rather than to work hard.
(vi) a. They considered further discussion of the matter dumb.

b. They considered discussing the matter further dumb.
148 Chapter Two
c. They considered it dumb to discuss the matter further.
d. Further discussion of the matter was considered dumb.

e. Discussing the matter further was considered dumb.
f. It was considered dumb to discuss the matter further.
To account for such parallels, an adequate grammar must assign a thematic relation to all syntactic
arguments (subject and complements) whether they are nouns or clauses. In Chapter Three, I will
turn to a consideration of the structural representation of thematic relations. The syntactic system
used there is a variation of three level X–bar theory which represents sentences as V3. Given this,
we will be able to generalize arguments to X3 whether X is an N or a V.
For a discussion of gerunds as objects of prepositions, particularly, in, to, at, on, with, and of, see
Rudanko 1996. I will discuss embedded V3 (tensed clauses, infinitives, participles, and gerunds)
in detail in Chapter Seven.
20. It appears that structural variation has a great deal to do with ORIENTATION, that is, which
theme is the primary AFC. Thus, the real question is, Can the ORIENTATION be linked to some
meaning component of the predicate so that the structural possibilities become predictable rather
than idiosyncratic? I believe this approach is essentially correct and underlies various classes that
have been proposed, most recently in Levin (1993). For example, it may be the prefix in– in a word
like insert that determines GOAL ORIENTATION. I will return to this issue in Chapter Six.
21. Notice that without is not a possible option to express the negative element in (65) where we
might expect it. Oddly, we never find without used as an SCOMP, a strange gap with no obvious
explanation. Indeed, the differences between with and without are very fuzzy in English and
elsewhere. Consider the following:
(i) a. Paul is a man with ambition

b. Paul is a man without ambition.
c. *Paul is with ambition.
d. Paul is without ambition.
(ii) a. Paul est un homme avec de l’ambition.

b. Paul est un homme sans ambition.
c. *Paul est avec de l’ambition.
d. Paul est sans ambition.
Other languages do allow constructions like (i–c) and (ii–c). Freeze, R. (1992: 597) gives the
following examples from Portuguese:
(iii) O menino esta com fome

the child is with hunger
‘The child is hungry.’
Chapter Two 149
Bresnan and Kanerva (1989: 39) give the following from Chicheëa (the Arabic numerals designate
noun classes):
(iv) Ka–mwa–ana k–anga ka–li ndi njala

12–1–child 12–my 12subject–be with 9–hunger
‘My small child is hungry’ (literally: ‘My small child is with hunger’)
22. To take an example which might be more familiar to readers, consider the following, which
were suggested to me by Rich Campbell:
(i) Latin developed into the Romance Languages.

(ii) The Romance Languages developed out of Latin.
Of course, the development of Latin into the Romance Languages was a gradual process over several
thousand years. During the development, several intermediate stages have been identified, e.g., Old
French, Old Spanish, even Old Catalan, etc. However, in terms of examples like (i) and (ii), it is the
beginning point (the CPS theme, Latin) and the endpoint (the RES theme, the Romance Languages)
that is significant. We must therefore say that Latin underwent the changes which culminated in the
various Romance Languages, and that the Romance Languages themselves did not undergo those
changes because they did not exist. If we select an intermediate point in the development, then
matters change. Consider the following:
(iii) Latin developed into Old Italian.

(iv) Old Italian developed out of Latin.
In these sentences, Latin (CPS) undergoes the changes that culminated in Old Italian (RES), and Old
Italian does not undergo any changes because it does not exist until that point in time when it is
actually Old Italian. Note further that Latin was, like all languages, in a constant process of
development; yet, all of the examples above ignore that fact.
23. For a recent discussion of the causative use of the main verbs have and make, see Ritter and
Rosen 1993, who discuss examples like the following:
(i) Sherry had George water her plants.

(ii) Ralph made Sheila fall down.
These examples are different from the light verb use of have and make in a number of ways. Most
importantly, pairs like the following are not paraphrases:
(iii) a. John made a dash for the car. (light verb make)
b. John made himself dash for the car. (causative make)
(iv) a. John made an attempt to finish. (light verb make)

b. John made himself attempt to finish. (causative make)
150 Chapter Two
Note the following:
(v) a. John made his/*Sue’s dash for the car as soon as the rain let up.
b. John made himself/Sue dash for the car although it was raining cats and dogs.
24. For a discussion of light verbs in Japanese, see Grimshaw and Mester (1988), Miyagawa
(1989a) and Dubinsky (1990).
25. Gruber’s (1976) work on incorporation also discusses the incorporation of prepositions, e.g.,
the incorporation of THROUGH into pierce. The ideas here are not in conflict with his, though our
account of thematic relations is very different. We will discuss prepositional incorporation more
thoroughly in Chapter Five.
CHAPTER THREE
Let us now turn our attention to the question of representation, namely, how the thematic relations
are to be expressed in structural analyses. We begin with a discussion of morphosyntactic features
in an attempt to account for relationships between categories, e.g., between nouns and verbs,
between adjectives and manner adverbs, between determiners and complementizers, etc. In this
chapter, we will be concerned with defining a morphosyntactic feature space analogous to the
semantic feature space proposed in the first chapter. In the next chapter, we will examine specific
representations for thematic relations.
3.1 A FEATURE ANALYSIS FOR SYNTACTIC CATEGORIES.
Within the framework of TG, several feature systems have been proposed to specify cross–categorial
relationships among syntactic categories particularly within the framework of X–Bar Theory
(Chomsky 1970; Chomsky and Lasnik 1977; Jackendoff 1977; Hawkins 1983; Stuurman 1985;
Emonds 1985; Kerstens 1993). Generally, a feature consists of an ordered pair of the form [feature
value, feature name], such as [+POSITIONAL] used in the first two chapters or [–NASAL] used in
phonology. Feature values are drawn from a set of primitives {–, +, 0, 1, 2, 3, etc.}, as are feature
names.1 This form extends to syntax and morphology, for which we distinguish the following types
of features:
(1) a. Syntactic Feature: a feature referring to the linear or hierarchical position

that lexical items occupy in a phrase.
b. Morphological Feature: a feature referring to a property or characteristic of

lexical items independent of their position in a phrase.
An example of a syntactic feature is the feature name [POSTHEAD] indicating whether an item can
or cannot occur after the head of a phrase, e.g., in English, manner adverbs are [+POSTHEAD]
(speak softly) whereas determiners are [–POSTHEAD] (*man the). An example of a morphological
feature is the feature name [GENDER] indicating whether an item is masculine ([1GENDER]),
feminine ([2GENDER], or neuter ([3GENDER]).2
What is expressed syntactically in one language is often expressed morphologically in another, and
vice versa. For example, in English, modals, which indicate various moods like conditional, form
a separate syntactic class of verbs occupying a specific position: when they occur, they must be the
first verb in a sequence of verbs, e.g., he could have been fishing, *he has can been fishing; they can
not occur in infinitives, e.g., *I want to would go; and so on. In other languages, such as Latin,
changes in mood are signaled by a morphological change in the verb:
152 Chapter Three
(2) a. am~mus am–~–mus ‘we love’
b. am‘mus am–‘–mus ‘we could (should, would, must, may, etc.) love’
Even within English, we find variability. Future time is signaled by independent words (will, shall,
etc.) whereas present and past time are signaled by changes in the shape of words (goes, went, etc.).
Given the variable way in which morphological and syntactic features are realized in natural
languages, I will refer to features like those mentioned above as morphosyntactic features.3
Morphosyntactic features fall into three subgroups (Anderson, S. 1985): inherent, those that reflect
independent and constant properties or characteristics of lexical items like [POSTHEAD] and
[GENDER]; relational, those that reflect the relationship that lexical items have to each other like
[CASE]; and, concordant, those that are the result of agreement rules. Here too there is considerably
variability across languages. For example, in English, some verb forms can show distinctions in
properties like NUMBER and PERSON, but those distinctions are not inherent, whereas NUMBER
and PERSON in nominal forms is inherent. In English, agreement in NUMBER and PERSON
proceeds from the nominal subject to the verb, not vice versa. We see this most clearly in pronouns
which carry distinctions in NUMBER and PERSON whether or not they are the subject of the verb.
For example, consider the following in which all of the pronouns have distinctions in NUMBER and
PERSON, not just the subject pronouns:
(3) a. I am looking at myself/her/you.

b. They are looking at themselves/me/him.
Further, nominals retain their distinctions in NUMBER and PERSON even when they are in
construction with verb forms which cannot show these distinctions such as infinitives:
(4) a. I want those men to do it themselves.

b. I want that woman to do it herself.
c. I want you to do it yourself.
As the above examples show, NUMBER and PERSON in nominals is inherent and independent of
verbs, whereas NUMBER and PERSON in verbs is concordant.
One of the major problems in morphosyntactic subcategorization concerns the fact that lexical items
which clearly belong to different morphosyntactic categories often exhibit the same features. For
example, consider the words goes, woes, and those. Each of these words has an overt, unambiguous
NUMBER that is recognizable by the form of the words themselves. Yet, NUMBER is generally
cited as the distinguishing characteristic of nominals alone: “Probably the most widespread inherent
category in nouns in the languages of the world is that of number” (Anderson, S. 1985: 174).
The opposite problem also occurs, namely, that a feature which seems to be a distinguishing
characteristic of a syntactic category does not occur in every variation of that category. For
example, the words goes, went, and gone clearly are all verb forms. As Anderson, S. (1985: 190)
notes, “Perhaps the most important inherent category of verbs...is that of tense and aspect (together
Chapter Three 153
with mood).” If TENSE is a defining characteristic of verbs, then gone cannot be a verb because
it has no tense.
We can solve both of the above problems in terms of the distinction made above between inherent
features and noninherent (relational or concordant) features. Thus, adopting a rather traditional
approach, I propose here that the major syntactic categories in language are distinguished by the
following morphosyntactic features ([±NML] = [±NOMINAL]; [±VBL] = [±VERBAL]):
(5) a. [+NML]: inherently marked for distinctions in NUMBER, PERSON,

GENDER, and/or CASE.
b. [–NML]: not inherently marked for distinctions in NUMBER, PERSON,
GENDER, or CASE.
(6) a. [+VBL]: inherently marked for distinctions in TENSE, ASPECT, VOICE,

and/or MODE.4
b. [–VBL]: not inherently marked for distinctions in TENSE, ASPECT, VOICE,
or MODE.
The features NUMBER, PERSON, GENDER, CASE, TENSE, ASPECT, VOICE, and MODE have
the following realizations:5
(7) a. NUMBER: [0NUM] = [–NUM], unmarked for NUMBER

[1NUM] = [+NUM], specifically SINGULAR
[2NUM] = [+NUM], specifically PLURAL
b. PERSON: [0PER] = [–PER], unmarked for PERSON

[1PER] = [+PER], specifically FIRST PERSON
[2PER] = [+PER], specifically SECOND PERSON
[3PER] = [+PER], specifically THIRD PERSON
c. GENDER: [0GEN] = [–GEN], unmarked for GENDER

[1GEN] = [+GEN], specifically MASCULINE
[2GEN] = [+GEN], specifically FEMININE
[3GEN] = [+GEN], specifically NEUTER
d. CASE: [0CAS] = [–CAS], unmarked for CASE

[1CAS] = [+CAS], specifically NOMINATIVE
[2CAS] = [+CAS], specifically ACCUSATIVE
[3CAS] = [+CAS], specifically POSSESSIVE
e. TENSE: [0TNS] = [–TNS], unmarked for TENSE

[1TNS] = [+TNS], specifically PRESENT
[2TNS] = [+TNS], specifically PAST
[3TNS] = [+TNS], specifically FUTURE
154 Chapter Three
f. ASPECT: [0ASP] = [–ASP], unmarked for ASPECT
[1ASP] = [+ASP], specifically PROGRESSIVE
[2ASP] = [+ASP], specifically PERFECTIVE
g. VOICE: [0VOI] = [–VOI], unmarked for VOICE

[1VOI] = [+VOI], specifically ACTIVE
[2VOI] = [+VOI], specifically MIDDLE
[3VOI] = [+VOI], specifically PASSIVE
h. MODE: [0MDE] = [–MDE], unmarked for MODE

[1MDE] = [+MDE], specifically INDICATIVE
[2MDE] = [+MDE], specifically IMPERATIVE
[3MDE] = [+MDE], specifically SUBJUNCTIVE
[4MDE] = [+MDE], specifically CONDITIONAL
[5MDE] = [+MDE], specifically PARTICIPIAL
[6MDE] = [+MDE], specifically GERUNDIAL
[7MDE] = [+MDE], specifically INFINITIVAL
Given the above features, we have the following specifications:
(8) a. goes: [+VBL, –NML, 1NUM, 3PER, 1TNS, 1MDE, ...]

b. woes: [–VBL, +NML, 2NUM, 3PER, 3GEN, ...]
c. those: [–VBL, –NML, 2NUM, ...]
As we observed above, forms like goes, woes and those would fall together into the same syntactic
class if the designation [+NML] simply meant that the form showed an overt number marking. By
making a distinction between the feature names [NOMINAL] and [NUMBER], we circumvent that
obstacle. Thus, while woes has inherent plural number and third person, goes has noninherent
(concordant) singular number and third person.6
Notice that a determiner like those is marked [–NML, 2NUM] meaning that it has noninherent
(concordant) plural NUMBER, in particular, it is plural by agreement. The argument for
determiners parallels the one given above for NUMBER in verbs. Common nouns can occur with
an overt determiner (the women, the milk, etc.) or a phonologically null determiner (Ø), whereas
proper nouns cannot (*a Fred, *this Ann, *Ø John etc). In a sentence like I know a Fred, Fred is
a common noun meaning ‘person with the name Fred.’ As such, it can be pluralized as in I know
several Freds. When common nouns are used without an overt determiner, their reference is
generic, e.g., Let’s talk about vegetarians (Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 275).
Conversely, most determiners, e.g., the, a/an, no, etc. cannot occur independently. When a
determiner appears to be used independently as in (9), some noun is always understood ([u]):7
(9) I like that [u].

Chapter Three 155
The empty element [u] in (9) has very specific reference and must indicate something in the context
of the discourse: it can always be specified as in (10a), and there are no sentences like (10b).8
(10) a. I like that pen.

b. *I like that. (where that does not point or refer to something specific in the context)
In short, determiners are dependent categories that never occur in isolation. Although a word like
those is, all by itself, recognizably plural, the fact is that those never occurs all by itself; if no overt
noun occurs, one is always understood. It would be perverse for a parser not to use such overt
number marking in parsing since it provides useful information. The specification [–NML, 2NUM]
allows us to make use of the overt plurality of the word even though the NUMBER is not inherent.
Unlike determiners, pronouns are [+NML], that is, they are marked inherently for NUMBER, as
well as PERSON, GENDER and CASE. Pronouns are independent phrases which can fill any of
the grammatical positions that a noun phrase can. Although pronouns must agree with their
referents in NUMBER, PERSON, and GENDER, pronouns do not form phrases with the noun
phrases they refer to; rather, they are used in place of the noun phrases. Hence, there are no
sentences like (11), analogous to (10a).
(11) *I like that it.
As we will see in Chapter Five, the lexicon is actually a network with various nodes and pointers.
For example, the node go has pointers to go, goes, went, gone, going. Attached to the higher node
go is the specification [+VBL, –NML] which tells us that all forms to which go points are verbs
inherently marked for the verbal features TENSE, ASPECT, VOICE and/or MODE. A form like
goes points to the specification [1NUM, 3PER, 1TNS, 1VOI, 1MDE], that is, singular, third person,
present, active, indicative. Since go points to goes, we know that the present tense, active voice, and
indicative mood of goes is inherent, but the singular number and third person are not.
The features [±VBL, ±NML] define two traditional categories (Verb and Noun) as well as two
supercategories: Subjuncts, which are [–VBL]; and Characterizers, which are [–VBL, –NML] and
include determiners, complementizers, adjectives, adverbs, prepositions and subordinators
(subordinating conjunctions). The breakdown is as follows:
(12) a. Verbs: [+VBL]
b. Subjuncts: [–VBL]
1. Nouns: [+NML, –VBL]

2. Characterizers: [–NML, –VBL]
Additionally, English contains at least one category that has both inherent verbal and inherent
nominal features, namely, gerundial nominals (gerunds).9 These are classified here as [+VBL,
+NML] following their traditional description as verbal nouns. They are inherently third person
156 Chapter Three
singular [1NUM, 3PER] which makes them [+NML], but they also carry an inherently verbal
MODE (–ing). Accordingly, they are modified by adverbs and take direct objects without of:
Dismissing the proposal summarily seems unfair.10
Following Jackendoff (1977), Marantz (1980), and Borsley (1983), I have argued elsewhere (Binkert
1984, 1994) for a three level version of X–bar theory which equates V3 with S of the Standard
Theory of TG (Chomsky 1965). Adopting the three level hypothesis and the above categorial
analysis, we have parallel structures like the following ([2TNS, 1MDE] = PST = PAST TENSE,
INDICATIVE MODE; [3CAS] = POS = POSSESSIVE CASE):11
(13) a. The lawyers carefully interrogated the witness with very precise questions.
[V3 [N3 the lawyers] [C3 2TNS, 1MDE] [V2 [C3 carefully] [V1 [V0 interrogate]
[N3 the witness] [C3 with very precise questions] ] ] ]
b. The lawyers’ careful interrogation of the witness with very precise questions...
[N3 [N3 the lawyers] [C3 3CAS] [N2 [C3 careful] [N1 [N0 interrogation] of
[N3 the witness] [C3 with very precise questions] ] ] ]
As these examples illustrate, specifiers (determiners, possessives, tense/mode) occur on the X3 level,
modifiers (adjectives and adverbs) occur on the X2 level, and complements occur on the X1 level;
thus, specifiers C–command modifiers, and modifiers C–command complements.12 Notice that
lawyers, careful(ly), and witness occupy the same position in (13a) and (13b) so generalizing
relationships like subject, modifier, and object in both sentences and noun phrases is
straightforward: subjects are X3 level elements, modifiers are X2 level elements, and objects are
X1 level elements. I will discuss the status of of in (13b) in Section 3.2 below.
The C–command relations that exist between specifiers, modifiers, and complements prevent the
intermingling of levels, that is, level recursion is possible so long as each lower level is of equal or
lesser bar value than the one above. Thus, successive sequences like (14a) are possible, but those
like (14b) are not.
(14) a. [N3 John’ s [N2 pretty [N2 little [N2 yellow [N1 cape cod [N1 vacation [N0 home]]]]]]]
b. *[N3 John’s [N2 pretty [N1 cape cod [N2 little [N1 vacation [N2 yellow [N0 home]]]]]]]
The impossibility of (14b) offers strong support for the existence of three separate levels above the
head X0, an issue that we will return to in more detail below. An additional example of these
relationships and restrictions is given in on the following page in tree format (for further arguments,
details, and structures, see Binkert 1984, 1994).
Chapter Three 157
(15) The friendly flight attendant patiently described the safety precautions to the nervous
passengers in their native language.
(16) the friendly flight attendant’s patient description of the safety precautions to the nervous
passengers in their native language...
158 Chapter Three
English is a head–center language, that is, one that tolerates elements both before and after the head;
many phrases can occur alternatively in prehead or posthead position. For example, we have noun
phrase pairs like the following:
(17) a. [N3 the [N2 Spanish [N1 math [N0 teacher] ] ] ]
b. [N3 the [N2 [N1 [N0 teacher] of math ] from Spain ] ]
We have other examples of prehead/posthead alternations like the following (the full structures will
be given below):13
(18) a. V3: Ultimately, peace will prevail/Peace will prevail, ultimately.

That guy there, he’s my friend./He’s my friend, that guy there.
b. N3: enough money/money enough
as many too many marbles/as many marbles too many
c. C3: quite far down the road/down the road quite far
two miles down the road/down the road two miles
(19) a. V2: enthusiastically sang the aria/sang the aria enthusiastically

often sang the aria/sang the aria often
b. N2: a sleeping baby/a baby sleeping
a 5000 foot high mountain/a mountain 5000 feet high
a courageous man/a man of courage
c. C2: directly down the road for a mile/down the road directly for a mile
especially for Sue/for Sue especially
In English, complements are generally posthead, although there are productive alternatives in noun
phrases (history student versus student of history; *history studied versus studied history) and
participial phrases (French speaking students versus students speaking French). Depending on the
language (head center, head initial, head final), complements generally either precede or follow the
head. However, the C–command relationships between specifiers, modifiers, and complements
given above appear to hold for a variety of language types.
The three level version of X–bar theory described in Binkert (1984) has been thoroughly examined
in languages like Thai, where the head of N3 is initial, and Newari, where the head of N3 is final.
Despite the different positions of the head in the phrase, the C–command requirements regarding
specifiers, modifiers and complements are the same as in English. The data supporting this are
given in (20) and (21).14
(20) Thai (data from Deepadung, 1989).
a. nók phíraâp tua lék tua nán

bird kind of bird small that
‘that small pigeon’
Chapter Three 159
b. rôm kradaàt khan yày khan nií
umbrella paper big this
‘this big paper umbrella’
(21) Newari (data from Tuladhar, 1985).
a. Jigu thwa R~mã dek~byugu chakh~ chẽ

my this Ram build one house
‘this one house of mine which Ram built’
b. R~my~ wa murkhamha Beng~li p~s~

Ram’s that stupid Bengali friend
‘that stupid Bengali friend of Ram’s’
c. mistegu nhugu dheb~ kame y~gu hak

women’s new money earn to do right
‘women’s new right to earn money’
In these examples, we see determiners and possessives C–commanding modifiers, and modifiers
C–commanding complements and all compounds.
In Japanese, a head final language, we find the same C–command relations realized, although the
language is frequently described as nonconfigurational. The most interesting parallel involves the
postposition no (‘of’), which can signal either a possessive, an agentive modifier or a complement.
Thus, a phrase with the head e (‘picture’), like (22), can mean any of the given translations, similar
to the English noun phrase John’s picture.
(22) John–no e
a. the picture which John has

b. the picture painted by John
c. the picture with John in it
Crucially, a double occurrence of –no, as in (23), can only mean one of the three given translations
(data verified by Yukari Mori and Keiko Noji, both native speakers).
(23) Mary–no John–no e
a. the picture painted by John which Mary has

b. the picture with John in it which Mary has
c. the picture with John in it which Mary painted
d. *the picture painted by Mary which John has
e. *the picture with Mary in it which John has
f. *the picture with Mary in it which John painted
160 Chapter Three
These data are exactly what our C–command relationships predict. If possessives must
C–command modifiers and modifiers must C–command complements, then the only possible
combinations are (24).
(24) a. POSSESSIVE + MODIFIER (cf. 23a)

b. POSSESSIVE + COMPLEMENT (cf. 23b)
c. MODIFIER + COMPLEMENT (cf. 23c)
Furthermore, (25a) can only mean (25b).
(25) a. Mary–no John–no Bill–no e

b. the picture of Bill that John painted that Mary has
Given these examples, we might propose that, in the unmarked case, the C–command relations are
universal: specifiers must C–command modifiers, and modifiers must C–command complements.15
Further, on any given level, [+NML] categories generally precede [–NML] categories, the order in
noun phrases being especially rigid. In particular, the ordering restrictions seen in examples like
these five large houses are stated as a universal by Greenberg (1963:87):
(26) Greenberg’s Universal 20.
When any or all of the items (demonstrative, numeral, and descriptive adjective) precede
the noun, they are always found in that order. If they follow, the order is either the same
or its exact opposite.
Hawkins (1983: 117–120) discusses some problems with (26) and provides the following illustrative
examples:16
(27) a. Three modifiers on the left/none on the right.
Dem–Num–Adj–N English, Finnish, Hindi, Hungarian, Mandarin, Maung
b. Two modifiers on the left/one on the right.
Dem–Num–N–Adj French, Italian

Dem–Adj–N–Num No examples
Num–Adj–N–Dem No examples
c. One modifier on the left/two on the right.
Dem–N–Adj–Num Kabardian, Warao

Num–N–Adj–Dem Basque, Easter Island, Indonesian, Jacaltec, Maori,
Vietnamese, Welsh
Adj–N–Num–Dem No examples
Chapter Three 161
d. No modifiers on the left/three on the right.
N–Adj–Num–Dem Selepet, Yoruba, Akan
On the basis of the data in (27), Hawkins (1983: 119–120) revises (26) to (28).17
(28) When any or all of the modifiers (demonstrative, numeral, and descriptive adjective)
precede the noun, they (i.e., those that do precede) are always found in that order. For
those that follow, no predictions are made, though the most frequent order is the
mirror–image of the order for preceding modifiers. In no case does the adjective precede
the head when the demonstrative or numeral follow.
This revision is consistent with the observations made here. It is further supported by recent work
in generative syntax (Chomsky 1995; Haegeman 1994), the data on French and Italian adverbs just
mentioned being a notable exception apparently (see Section 3.6, Page 227 ff.). Even though
adjuncts, i.e., modifiers, are not accorded their own level distinct from complements in some other
theories of X–bar syntax, adjuncts are always on higher recursions of X' than complements.
3.1.1 THE SEPARATION OF X2 AND X1 LEVELS.
The theory of morphosyntactic categories outlined above differs from other current theories, e.g.,
Minimalism and GPSG, in recognizing an X2 Level distinct from an X1 Level. In this section, I
will present several arguments for this distinction (for more details, see Binkert 1984, 1994).
First, various proforms (one and do so) refer specifically to the X2 Level and never to the X1 Level:
(29) a. John met the young men from Cleveland, and Bill met the old ones.
b. John met the young men from Cleveland, and Bill met the ones from New York.
c. Do you know those men, the ones from New York?
d. *John met the sign language teachers, and Bill met the braille ones.
e. *John met the teachers of sign language, and Bill met the ones of braille.
f. *Do you know those teachers, the ones of braille?
(30) a. John will go to the play on Tuesday, and Bill will do so on Wednesday.
b. John watches television infrequently, and Bill does so frequently.
c. *John will go to this play, and Bill will do so to that play.

d. *John watches NBC, and Bill does so CBS.
162 Chapter Three
Second, various ambiguities and ordering restrictions can be directly accounted for by separating
the X2 and X1 Levels:18
(31) a. John met the Spanish teacher. (ambiguous)

b. John met the Spanish (origin) Spanish (language) teacher.
c. John met the Spanish braille teacher.
d. *John met the braille Spanish teacher.
e. John met the teacher of Spanish from Spain.
f. *John met the teacher from Spain of Spanish.
Notice that the first Spanish in (31b) is a modifier off N2 and must refer to the teacher’s origin; the
second is a complement (off N1) and must refer to the subject taught. Similarly, in posthead
position, the language (off N1) must precede the country of origin (off N2). These orders are
predicted by the level separation we propose.
Many adjectives can be ambiguously interpreted as either a simple descriptive modifier or as the first
element of a compound noun. For example, a straight man can refer to someone who is
heterosexual or to a kind of comedian; a practical nurse can refer to someone who is sensible and
realistic or to a kind of nurse. There are hundreds of other examples like heavy drinker, big eater,
old friend, short story, etc., so that the distinction is productive. In each case, only the use as
descriptive modifier (off N2) can be intensified, occur freely with other noun heads, and be replaced
by its opposite:
(32) a. a totally straight man/boy/doctor/nurse/etc. (straight must mean ‘heterosexual’)

b. a gay man/boy/doctor/nurse/etc.
(33) a. a very practical nurse/doctor/man/boy/etc. (practical must mean ‘sensible’)

b. an impractical nurse/doctor/man/boy/etc.
When both uses occur, the first is always a modifier (off N2), and the second is always the first
element of a compound noun (off N1). Consider the following:
(34) a. a totally straight (nongay) straight (comedian) man

b. *a straight (comedian) totally straight (nongay) man
(35) a. a very practical (sensible) practical (not registered) nurse

b. *a practical (not registered) very practical nurse.
The above distributions follow directly from the level distinctions we have made. Such distinctions
are important because the two uses of adjectives have different characteristics. An adjectival
component of a compound noun cannot be intensified or occur in the comparative or superlative (*a
very Big Mac, *really gross anatomy, *the tightest end in the league, etc.). On the other hand, the
modifier use can be specified by a degree word (a man so straight, a nurse that practical, a piano
that grand, a Big Mac as big, etc.) and can occur in the comparative and the superlative:
Chapter Three 163
(36) a. a grander grand piano/the grandest grand piano
b. *a grand grander piano/*the grand grandest piano
Third, paralleling the above, we can distinguish predicate nominatives (V2), which must agree in
number with the subject, from direct objects (V1), which do not have to agree in number with the
subject. Consider the following from Bresnan (1978: 22):
(37) a. The boys made good cooks. (good cooks is off V2)
b. The boys made good cakes. (good cakes is off V1)
c. *The boy made good cooks.

d. The boy made good cakes.
Fourth, if predicate nominatives are on a different level from direct objects, we can distinguish
phrases that refer back to the subject (V2) from phrases that refer back to direct objects (V1).
(38) a. John left the house messy (ambiguous).

[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 left] [N3 the house]] [C3 messy]]] (John is messy)
. [V3 John PST [V1 [V0 left] [N3 the house] [C3 messy]] (the house is messy)
b. John left the house unlocked drunk out of his mind.

[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 left] [N3 the house] [C3 unlocked]] [C3 drunk out of his mind]]
c. *John left the house drunk out of his mind unlocked.

*[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 left] [N3 the house] [C3 drunk out of his mind]] [C3 unlocked]]
d. John ate the food raw nude.

[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 ate] [N3 the food] [C3 raw]] [C3 nude]]
e. *John ate the food nude raw.

*[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 ate] [N3 the food] [C3 nude]] [C3 raw]]
This analysis extends to resolving infinitival ambiguities as in John defied Bill to get even. If Bill
is the subject of the infinitive, the infinitive is on V1; if John is subject, the infinitive is on V2:
(39) a. To get even is a complementary infinitive with subject Bill, which C–commands the
infinitive.
[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 defy] [N3 Bill] [C3 to get even]]]]
b. To get even a purposive infinitive with subject John; Bill does not C–command the
infinitive.
[V3 John PST [V2 [V1 [V0 defy] [N3 Bill]] [C3 to get even]]]
164 Chapter Three
Putting the above arguments together, we account for the following parallels between N3 and V3:
(40) a. the young math teacher

[N3 the [N2 young [N1 math [N0 teacher]]]]
b. The teacher of math is young.

[V3 [N3 the [N1 [N0 teacher] of math] PRS [V2 is [C3 young]]]
c. He taught math young.

[V3 he PST [V2 [V1 [V0 teach] math] young]]
(41) a. the superb math teacher

[N3 the [N2 superb [N1 math [N0 teacher]]]]
b. The teacher of math is superb.

[V3 [N3 the [N1 [N0 teacher] of math] PRS [V2 is [C3 superb]]]
c. He taught math superbly.

[V3 he PST [V2 [V1 [V0 teach] math] superbly]]]
These analyses suggest that predicate adjectives are related to manner adverbs, which is the case.
Compare the following:
(42) a. His actions were courageous.

b. He acted courageously.
(43) a. Her behavior was outrageous.

b. She behaved outrageously.
Notice also that predicate adjectives and manner adverbs can be conjoined and contrasted:
(44) a. The president entered the room angrily and red as a beet.
b. The president entered the room solemnly, yet composed and poised.
Further, they both can be referenced with how:
(45) a. Red as a beet is how the president entered the room.

b. Angrily is how the president entered the room.
Fifth, although there are ordering restrictions within levels, those restrictions are very different from
the ordering restrictions between levels. For example, it is well known that multiple adjectives in
English occur in a specific order (Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 1321–1349):
Chapter Three 165
(46) a. that expensive new grand piano
b. *?that new expensive grand piano
Yet, the preferred order can be violated when modifiers and conjunctions are added or pauses are
placed between the items:
(47) a. that very new and very expensive grand piano

b. that brand–new, unbelievably expensive, grand piano
On the other hand, no amount of modification, conjunction, or pausing can allow an N1 level item
to occur between elements on N2, as we saw above in (14):19
(48) a. *that Steinway grand, very new and very expensive piano
b. *that brand–new, Steinway grand, unbelievably expensive piano
The same restrictions apply to posthead elements:
(49) a. a teacher of Spanish that young and that talented

b. *a teacher that young, of Spanish, (and) that talented
Sixth, the restrictions on whether or not an element can occur in prehead or posthead position are
quite different for the X2 and X1 levels. For example, a nonadjectival descriptive phrase in
posthead position off N2 generally corresponds to an adjective in prehead position, not a prehead
noun:20
(50) a. a man of courage/a courageous man/*a courage man/*a man courageous

b. a bouquet of flowers/a floral bouquet/*a flower(s) bouquet/*a bouquet floral
c. a man with a beard/a bearded man/*a beard man/*a man bearded
This restriction does not occur on the N1 Level:
(51) a. a teacher of history/a history teacher/*a historical teacher

b. glasses for the opera/opera glasses/*operatic glasses
Similarly, the restrictions on prehead elements off V2 are tightly constrained but nonetheless freer
than the restrictions on V1 level elements which can never occur in prehead position in English:
(52) a. He enthusiastically did the job./He did the job enthusiastically.

b. He often watches TV./He watches TV often.
c. *He TV watches./He watches TV.
Seventh, following Jackendoff (1977), we also make a distinction between restrictive relatives (off
posthead N2) and appositive relatives (off posthead N3); see Binkert 1984:
166 Chapter Three
(53) a. The flowers that/which you sent me are on the table. (restrictive)
b. The flowers, which/*that are lovely, are on the table. (appositive)
c. The flowers that you sent me, which are lovely, are on the table.
d. *The flowers, which are lovely, that you sent me are on the table.
The above distinction is important for explaining the different characteristics of restrictive and
appositive relative clauses, which I will turn to in detail in Chapter Eight. For the present, note that
both types of relative clauses can be triggered by a relative pronouns (who, which, etc.), but only the
restrictive relatives can be triggered by the complementizers that (the flowers that he bought) and
Ø (the flowers Ø he bought). Furthermore, restrictive relative clauses (off N2) must be distinguished
from complement clauses (off N1). Consider the following:
(54) a. The rumor that they fabricated has no basis in fact. (restrictive relative clause)
b. The rumor that they shook hands has no basis in fact. (complement clause)
c. The rumor that they made up has no basis in fact. (either restrictive relative clause
or complement clause)
Eighth, as Jackendoff (1990: 452–3) points out, failure to distinguish between modifier and
complement levels leaves no basis for such differences like the following:
(55) a. John, in the morning, wrote a letter (to Mary).

b. *John, to Mary, wrote a letter (in the morning).
(56) a. *It was the morning that John wrote a letter (to Mary) in.
b. It was Mary that John wrote a letter to (in the morning).
Ninth, in many languages, e.g., Latin, the Romance Languages, etc., modifiers agree with the head
of a noun phrase in CASE, NUMBER, and GENDER. Complements, however, do not. If the N2
Level (modifiers) and N1 Level (complements) are not separated, this dichotomy is left without an
explanation. A phrase such as the tall man is clearly related to the man is tall. In the languages just
mentioned, both the attributive adjective and the predicate adjective would be marked nominative,
singular, masculine. This seems entirely consistent. Likewise, it would be inconsistent for a
complement to be marked with the same case as its governor. Separating the X2 and X1 levels is
thus a straightforward way of accounting for the different status of modifiers and complements.
For all the above reasons, the position taken here is that grammars contain an X2 level distinct from
an X1 level.
3.1.2 LEXICAL DECOMPOSITION.
As we saw above, phrasal levels (X3, X2, X1) can be recursive provided that each level dominates
a level of equal or lesser bar value (cf. (14)). Since the X0 level contains the morphological head
of any given phrase, it follows that recursion of the X0 level must involve morphological derivation
Chapter Three 167
or lexical structure. Actually, we have already had examples of such recursion, but not explicitly.
As we saw in (13a), English clauses have a structure like (57a) which is parallel to (57b), a familiar
structure from the Standard Theoryof TG (Chomsky 1965) and much other work:
(57) a. [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 "TNS, $MDE ]] V0 ]

b. [S NP [AUX [TNS PST ]] VP ]
The feature cluster ["TNS, $MDE] in (57a) is abstract like PST in (57b). It is a property of the head
of an abstract tense/mode characterizer. The abbreviations PRS (PRESENT) and PST (PAST) have
generally been used for PRESENT INDICATIVE and PAST INDICATIVE, respectively, in TG.
These designations seem appropriate for English, since tense distinctions for other moods, e.g., the
subjunctive, are questionable. Grammars, e.g., Quirk, R. et al. 1985: Chapter Three, often speak of
a present subjunctive form as in (58) distinct from a past subjunctive form as in (59):
(58) a. We demand/demanded/will demand that he be investigated.

b. Jesus be praised.
(59) a. I wish he were here.

b. If only he were here.
Although forms like be in (58) and were in (59) look like present and past tenses, respectively, they
do not really indicate distinctions in the feature TENSE like He is/was here. Sentences that contain
be generally express wishes, demands, or preferences, irrespective of time; those that contain were
generally express contrary–to–fact conditions. Therefore, it does not seem appropriate to speak of
a PRESENT or PAST SUBJUNCTIVE in English, where PRESENT and PAST refer to TENSE
distinctions. Still, we must account for sentences like those in (58) and (59), which are clearly not
INDICATIVE however one chooses to classify them. As a result I will use the term “mode
characterizer,” which will allow us to include (58) and (59) as well as sentences that contain modals
like can and must, instead of “tense characterizer,” which would appear to exclude (58) and (59).
Further, given these observations, it seems more appropriate to say that every English clause must
be marked for a mode than to say that every English clause must be marked for tense.
In addition to containing an abstract head (["TNS, $MDE]), the mode characterizer can contain an
overt verb such as a modal. Consider the following, where [3TNS, 1MDE] = FUTURE,
INDICATIVE:
(60) a. [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 3TNS, 1MDE ]]] V0 ]
b. [S NP [AUX [MODAL will] [TNS FUT ]] VP ]
As (60) indicates, the modal will is embedded into prehead position of the abstract mode
characterizer on the C0 level, the lexical level. The word will itself is lexically specified by the
features [+VBL, –NML, 3TNS, 1MDE,...] indicating that it is a verb with the features FUTURE and
INDICATIVE. Thus, it can appropriately occur in a structure like (60a) where the mode
characterizer is [3TNS, 1MDE].
168 Chapter Three
In addition to containing a modal, the mode characterizer in English can contain an emphatic form
of the verb do as in the following, where [1TNS] = PRS and [2TNS] = PST:
(61) a. [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 does]] [C0 1TNS, 1MDE ] V0 ]
b. [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 did]] [C0 2TNS, 1MDE ] V0 ]
The essential feature of the above structures is that a particular lexical item resides in a phrase under
co–occurrence restrictions with the abstract head ["TNS, $MDE]. The verbs does and did are
lexically specified as [1TNS, 1MDE] and [2TNS, 1MDE] forms of do, respectively. Thus, they can
occur as above.
We see identical structures in derived adjectives like charming (a charming lady) and charmed (a
charmed life). Consider the following, where [DA1] and [DA2] are abstract adjectival markers,
lexically linked to –ing and –ed, respectively:
(62) a charming lady

[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1 ] ]] [N0 lady] ]]
(63) a charmed life

[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2 ] ]] [N0 life] ]]
Crucially, words like charming and charmed in the above examples are adjectives (modifiers), that
is, X2 level characterizers, which occur with specifiers and modifiers typical of adjectives:
(64) a. a very charming/pretty lady

b. a very charmed/long life
(65) a. a lady so charming/pretty that she captivated everyone

b. a life so charmed/long that we were amazed
Nonetheless, charming and charmed are both clearly related to the verb charm. The above
structures capture this duality. Furthermore, with such structures, lexical decomposition to the
following is straightforward:21
(66) a charming lady

[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charm]] [C0 ing ] ]] [N0 lady] ]]
(67) a charmed life

[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charm]] [C0 ed ] ]] [N0 life] ]]
Thus, charming and charmed are characterizers, specifically adjectives, derived from the verb
charm.
Chapter Three 169
Paralleling these forms, we have the derived nominal charming (the charming of snakes) with the
following structure, where [DN] is linked to the abstract derived nominal marker –ing:
(68) the charming of snakes

[N3 [C3 the ] [N1 [N0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [N0 DN] ] of snakes ]]
[N3 [C3 the ] [N1 [N0 [V3 [V0 charm]] [N0 ing] ] of snakes ]]
When a structure is embedded into prehead position of the X0 level, as in the above, it cannot have
any internal posthead elements of its own. This constraint is a very general restriction in English
that does not permit prehead elements to have their own posthead modifiers or complements:22
(69) a. the baby sleeping in the crib/*the sleeping in the crib baby
b. a teacher of the history of colonial America/*a history of colonial America teacher
c. the man on the porch/*the on the porch man
On the other hand, there are forms related to the above derived adjectives and derived nominals
which can have the full range of posthead elements. These include progressive participles (PRGP),
passive participles (PSVP) and gerundial nominals (GN). Taking advantage of the many
prehead/posthead alternations that occur in English (see the examples in (18) and (19)), suppose we
say that these forms are derived from embedding into posthead position of X0 as follows:
(70) the lady charming the snakes

[N3 [C3 the] [N2 [N0 lady] [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V1 [V0 charming] [N3 the snakes] ]] ]] ]]
(71) the snakes charmed by the lady

[N3 [C3 the] [N2 [N0 snakes] [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V2 [V0 charmed] [C3 by the lady] ]] ]] ]]
(72) charming snakes (is fun)

[N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V1 [V0 charming] [N3 snakes]] ]]
The above structures indicate that progressive and passive participles are adjectival and that gerunds
are nominal. On the other hand, these nonfinite forms must also be classified as forms of a particular
verb (in the present case, the verb charm) because they have selectional and categorial restrictions
that are identical to that related verb. For example, snakes, children, students, etc. can be the object
of any form of the verb charm whether it be a finite form or a present participle or a gerund, whereas
desks, telephones, forks, etc. cannot be the object of any form of charm. There are many similar
relationships. For example, a finite verb that constructs with a particular particle (throw out, hand
in, call up, and so on) retains that same particle in nonfinite forms (throwing out, handing in, calling
up, and so on). In short, as traditional grammars have long observed, participles are verbal
adjectives and gerunds are verbal nouns. The above structures capture these dualities.
170 Chapter Three
Summarizing, the internal structure of all –ing and –ed forms are as follows:23
(73) Progressive Participles (PRGP) and Derived Adjectives (DA1).
a. Participle (the lady charming the man): [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 charming]]]]
b. Adjective (a very charming lady): [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1]]]
(74) Passive Participles (PSVP) and Derived Adjectives (DA2).
a. Participle (charmed by her flattery): [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 charmed]]]]
b. Derived Adjective (a very charmed life): [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2]]]
(75) Gerundial Nominals (GN) and Derived Nominals (DN).
a. GN (charming candy from a baby): [N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V0 charming]]]]
b. DN: (such charming of snakes): [N3 [N0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [N0 DN]]]
(76) Summary of Verbal Structures.
a. Verb resides in posthead position.
[C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 charming]] ]]

[C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 charmed]] ]]
[N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V0 charming]] ]]
b. Verb resides in prehead position.
[C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1] ]]

[C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2] ]]
[N3 [N0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [N0 DN] ]]
Notice, in particular, that the four possible ing–forms in English have the feature specification
[–VBL] (they are subjuncts); two are [–NML] (the derived adjective and the present participle); two
are [+NML] (the derived nominal and the gerundial nominal). Further, the two members of each
pair are mirror images of each other. Thus, all are subjuncts with a V3 embedded on their X0 level.
The nominal nature of gerunds is accounted for by embedding that V3 into an N3, and the adjectival
nature of participles is accounted for by embedding that V3 into a C3.
3.1.3 MAJOR AND MINOR MORPHOSYNTACTIC FEATURES.
The morphosyntactic feature oppositions [±VBL, ±NML] are not sufficient to distinguish the major
syntactic categories that occur in the world’s languages. For example, within the category verb,
there are subclasses which include finite verbs, nonfinite verbs (infinitives, participles, etc.),
Chapter Three 171
auxiliaries, and modals. Within the category characterizer, there are prepositions, subordinators
(subordinating conjunctions), adjectives, adverbs, determiners, and so on. To specify these
subclasses, I propose two features [±OPEN PHRASE] ([±OPH]) and [±OPEN CLASS] ([±OCL])
defined as follows:24
(77) a. [+OPH]: occurring as the head of a phrase that can contain specifiers,
quantifiers, or modifiers
b. [–OPH]: occurring as the head of a phrase that cannot contain specifiers,
quantifiers, or modifiers
(78) a. [+OCL]: unlimited in number

b. [–OCL]: limited in number
The syntactic feature specification [±OPH] separates categories whose internal phrase structure is
open in the sense that it can freely contain specifiers, quantifiers, or modifiers, from other categories
whose internal phrase structure is highly restricted.25 The [±OPH] distinction is most clearly seen
in the variety of structures possible for common nouns on the one hand, which can be specified,
quantified, and modified, and pronouns and proper nouns on the other hand, which cannot:26
(79) a. That very old woman left early./*That very old she left early.
b. All the tall women walked in./*All the tall they walked in.
c. A woman that is tall will get the job./*Mary that is tall will get the job.
Among quantifiers themselves, there are two broad classes: comparative quantifers, which are
[+OPH], like (much too) much, (a whole lot) more, (a very) few, etc.; and noncomparative
quantifiers, which are [–OPH], like (*too) all, (*very) both, (*each) some, etc. Further, I distinguish
here between absolute quantification, which does not involve partitioning, and partitive
quantification, which does (I will discuss partitives in detail in Section 7.3.1, Page 489 ff.). This
distinction is also observed most clearly in common nouns, which allow either type of
quantification, and pronouns and proper nouns, which only allow partitive quantification:
(80) Absolute Quantification:
a. He drank too much milk./He ate too many potato chips.

b. *He drank too much it./*He ate too many them./*He saw too much Mary.
(81) Partitive Quantification:
a. He drank too much of the milk./He ate too many of the potato chips.
b. He drank too much of it./He ate too many of them./He saw too much of Mary.
Given these distinctions, we have examples like the following of the interaction between the feature
[±OPH] and a category’s ability to be quantified absolutely (Q = quantifier):
172 Chapter Three
(82) [+OPH] (can be quantified absolutely):27
a. Common Verb: He works enough/(far) too much; He little realizes what

trouble he caused; The play lasted (far) too long; He weighs
(far) too much; The world will little note, nor long
remember, what we say here.
b. Common Noun: He drank enough milk; He asked many questions; Fewer

questions were asked than expected.
c. Comparative Q: He drank much too much milk; He asked far too many
questions.
d. Adjective: He is smart enough; He is much/far smarter than she is.
e. Adverb: He spoke clearly enough; He spoke much/far more clearly

than he ever spoke before.
f. Preposition: He lives a little down the road; He stepped further out of

bounds; He stayed far into the night; He is too much/far in
debt to buy it.
g. Subordinator: He left long before she arrived; He left a little after she
arrived; The accident occurred a little before the lanes
merge.
h. Particle: He lives far away; He stood a little further back.
(83) [–OPH] (cannot be quantified absolutely):
a. Modal: *He can enough work; *He enough can work.28
b. Pronoun: He drank enough *(of) it; He asked too many *(of) them;
Fewer *(of) them were asked than expected.
c. Proper Noun: He saw enough *(of) Mary; He saw a lot *(of) London.
d. Noncomparative Q: *He has enough all; *He took too much some.
e. Determiner: He has enough *(of) those.
The morphological feature [+OCL] specifies those categories which form an open class to which
an unlimited number of items may be added. Since classical antiquity, most grammarians have
observed the sharp distinction between the very large number of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and
Chapter Three 173
adverbs that occur in languages as opposed to the rather small fixed number of prepositions,
conjunctions, determiners, pronouns, etc. (for discussion, see Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 67 ff.). The
opposition [±OCL] is intended to capture this dichotomy. For the most part, in English, open class
words are marked by distinct inflectional suffixes, that is, variations in form: nouns show variations
in number and case (boy, boys, boy’s, boys’); verbs show variations in tense (plays, played); and
adjectives and adverbs show variations in comparison (fast, faster, fastest; long, longer, longest).29
Given the features [±OPH] and [±OCL], we have the following specifications for some familiar
categories (Q = quantifier):30
(84) NML VBL OPH OCL
a. Common Verb – + + + She went there a lot.

Auxiliary – + – – She has gone away.
Modal – + – – She will go away.
b. Common Noun + – + + Many women went away.

Pronoun + – – – He saw her go away.
Proper Noun + – – + John went away to London.
Noncomparative Q + – – – All the women went away.
Comparative Q + – + – Too many women went away.
c. Determiner – – – – That young woman went away.

Complementizer – – – – He knows that she went away.
Degree Word – – – – She went that far away.31
d. Preposition – – + – He went far down the street.

Subordinator – – + – Long after he went, she went.
Particle – – + – She went far away.
e. Adjective – – + + The younger women went away.

Adverb (manner) – – + + She went away a little fearfully.
Adverb (sentence) – – + + She’ll most probably go away.
The above feature space distinguishes five groups of morphosyntactic categories, with each group
specified by a unique cluster of features that distinguishes it from the other four groups. All verbs
are [–NML, +VBL], all nouns are [+NML, –VBL], all specifiers are [–NML, –VBL, –OPH, –OCL],
all modifiers are [–NML, –VBL, +OPH], and so on. Common nouns like dog and common verbs
like go are ["NML, –"VBL, +OPH, +OCL]. Given the fact that the four feature oppositions [±VBL,
±NML, ±OPH, ±OCL] define major morphosyntactic categories and supercategories, let us call
them “major morphosyntactic features.”
174 Chapter Three
Clearly, other features are needed to distinguish the individual categories within each of the five
groups above. These features, which we will refer to as “minor morphosyntactic features,” are
language specific and classified as follows (for further details, see Binkert 1984, 1994):32
(85) Linear Features ([±PRH] = [±PREHEAD]; [±PSH] = [±POSTHEAD]).33
a. [+PRH]: can freely occur before the head of a phrase

b. [–PRH]: cannot freely occur before the head of a phrase
c. [+PSH]: can freely occur after the head of a phrase

d. [–PSH]: cannot freely occur after the head of a phrase
(86) Hierarchical Features ([±X0L] = [±X0 LEVEL]; [±X1L] = [±X1 LEVEL]; [±X2L] = [±X2
LEVEL]; [±X3L] = [±X3 LEVEL]).
a. [+X0L]: can freely occur immediately dominated by an X0 level

b. [–X0L]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by an X0 level
c. [+X1L]: can freely occur immediately dominated by an X1 level

d. [–X1L]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by an X1 level
e. [+X2L]: can freely occur immediately dominated by an X2 level.

f. [–X2L]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by an X2 level
g. [+X3L]: can freely occur immediately dominated by an X3 level.

h. [–X3L]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by an X3 level
(87) Head Features ([±ENH] = [±IN THE ENVIRONMENT OF NOUN HEAD]; [±EVH] =
[±IN THE ENVIRONMENT OF VERB HEAD]; [±ECH] = [±IN THE ENVIRONMENT
OF CHARACTERIZER HEAD]).34
a. [+ENH]: can freely occur immediately dominated by a projection of N0

b. [–ENH]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by a projection of N0
c. [+EVH]: can freely occur immediately dominated by a projection of V0

d. [–EVH]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by a projection of V0
c. [+ECH]: can freely occur immediately dominated by a projection of C0

d. [–ECH]: cannot freely occur immediately dominated by a projection of a C0
The phrase “freely occur” is important in the above definitions. It means that the phrase can occur
in the position indicated without being bound to an [e] somewhere else. For example, a manner
adverb might occur in sentence initial position but only as a topicalized element bound to an [e] on
V2; hence, manner adverbs are [–X3L].
Chapter Three 175
Using these nine features, together with those previously discussed, we make the distinctions for
English that are specified in Figure Seven I and II.35
In Figure Seven II, a feature value of “+” is indicated when the category embraces more than one
positive value for features like [NUM], [PER], [TNS], etc. For example, the forms for auxiliaries
are specified as [+NUM, +PER, +TNS] since a form like am is [1NUM, 1PER, 1TNS] whereas was
is [1NUM, 1PER, 2TNS] or [1NUM, 3PER, 2TNS], and so on. If the value is constant, it is
indicated, e.g., will is [3TNS].In Figure Seven II, notice also that it is often not possible to assign
a value for some features of particular forms independent of context: thrown is [1VOI] when it
occurs as part of the perfective (have thrown) and [2VOI] when it occurs as a component of the
passive (be thrown). Similarly, a form like throwing is marked [1ASP], i.e., PROGRESSIVE, when
it is in construction with a form of be, e.g., She is throwing. However, as Comrie (1976: 39–40)
notes, “Although the –ing form is an essential ingredient of the English Progressive, in nonfinite
constructions without the auxiliary be, the –ing form does not necessarily have progressive meaning;
in fact, in such constructions, it typically indicates only simultaneity...” Compare the following
forms in –ing:
(88) a. The boy throwing the balls is a great pitcher.

b. The boy fell while throwing the ball.
c. The boy fainted after throwing his first pitch.
d. The boy smiled throwing the balls.
A participial form like throwing or thrown, as we have seen, is analyzed here as a characterizer
consisting of an adjectival marker and an embedded verb form, each specified by particular feature
values for ASPECT, VOICE, and MODE (cf. examples in Section 3.1.2, Page 166 ff.):
(89) a. [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 throwing] ]]] (progressive participle)
b. [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 thrown] ]]] (passive participle)
c. [C3 [C0 [C0 PFCP] [V3 [V0 thrown] ]]] (perfective participle)
[PRGP], [PSVP] and [PFCP] are abstract characterizers like the tense/mode characterizer in main
clauses. Similarly, a gerundial nominal like throwing is analyzed here as a noun phrase consisitng
of an abstract nominal marker (GN) and an embedded verb form:36
(90) [N3 [N0 [N0 [GN]] [V3 [V0 throwing] ]]] (gerund)
176 Chapter Three
FIGURE SEVEN I: FEATURES FOR ENGLISH MORPHOSYNTACTIC CATEGORIES

CATEGORIES & EXAMPLES VBL NML OPH OCL PRH PSH ENH EVH ECH X0L X1L X2L X3L
VERB: go, goes, went; am, are, + – + + – + + + + – + + +

is, was, were
VERB: gone, going; been, being + – + + – + – – + + – – –
AUX: have, has, had + – – – + + – + + + – – –
AUX: do, does, did + – – – + – – – + + – – –
MODAL: can, could, must + – – – + – – – + + – – –
NOUN: boy, milk, truck – + + + + + + + + – + + +
PRONOUN: she, he, herself – + – – + + + + + – + + +
PROPER NOUN: John, Mary, – + – + + + + + + – + + +

London
NUMERAL: one, two, ten, first, – + + – + – + – – – – + +

second, tenth
NONCOMPARATIVE Q: all, – + – – + – + – – – – – +
both, double
COMPARATIVE Q: much, – + + – + + + + + – – – +
more, most, many
DETERMINER: a, the, this, – – – – + – + – – – – – +

that, these, those, no
COMPLEMENTIZER: that, if – – – – + – – + – – – – +
DEGREE WORD: so, too, this, – – – – + – + – – – – – +

that, not
EMPHATIC: too, so, not – – – – – + – + + – – – +
NEGATOR: not – – – – + – + + + – – – +
PREPOSITION: in, out, after – – + – – + + + + – + + +
SUBORDINATOR: since, – – + – – + + + + – – + +
because, after
PARTICLE: in, out, back – – + – – + – + – – + + –
ADJECTIVE: happy, big – – + + – + + + – – + + –
MANNER ADVERB: happily, – – + + + + – + – – – + –

sadly
SENTENCE ADVERB: – – + + + + – + + – – – +
probably, ultimately
Chapter Three 177
FIGURE SEVEN II: FEATURES FOR ENGLISH MORPHOSYNTACTIC CATEGORIES

CATEGORIES & EXAMPLES VBL NML NUM PER GEN CAS TNS ASP VOI MDE
INDICATIVE (VERB1–1): throw + – + + – – 1 – 1 1
INDICATIVE (VERB2–1): throws + – 1 3 – – 1 – 1 1
INDICATIVE (VERB3–1): threw + – + + – – 2 – 1 1
AUX: have, has, had (thrown) + – + + – – + – 1 1
AUX: am, is, are, was, were + – + + – – + – 1 1

(throwing/thrown)
AUX: do, does, did (throw) + – + + – – + – 1 1
MODAL: will, shall (throw) + – + + – – 3 – 1 1
IMPERATIVE: throw + – + 2 – – 1 – 1 2
SUBJUNCTIVE: throw, be + – + + – – – – 1 3
CONDITIONAL: were + – + + – – – – 1 4
MODAL: could, would (throw) + – + + – – – – 1 4
VERB4–1a: (have) thrown, been + – – – – – – 2 1 5
VERB4–1b: (be) thrown + – – – – – – 2 2 5
VERB5–1a: (be) throwing, being + – – – – – – 1 1 5
VERB5–1b: throwing + – 1 3 3 + – – 1 6
INFINITIVE: to throw + – – – – – – – 1 7
GN (gerundial nominal marker): + + 1 3 3 + – – 1 6
NOUN: boy, milk, truck – + + + + + – – – –
PRONOUN: she, he, herself – + + + + + – – – –
OTHER NOMINALS: – + + – – – – – – –
DETERMINER: a, the, this, these – – + – – – – – – –
TENSE/MODE CHARACTERIZER: – – + + – – ± – + +
PRGP (progressive participle marker): – – – – – – – 1 1 5
PFCP (perfective participle marker) – – – – – – – 1 1 5
PSVP (passive participle marker): – – – – – – – 2 2 5
INF (infinitive marker to): – – – – – – – – 1 7
OTHER CHARACTERIZERS: – – – – – – – – – –
178 Chapter Three
Lexical items occur in tree structure in their full form: there is no rule of affix hopping in the
grammar being described here. The individual morphological variations of any particular lexical
item are specified in the lexicon with subclassifications like the following, where the labels VERB1
(VERB FORM1), VERB2 (VERB FORM2), NOUN1 (NOUN FORM1), etc. are word senses
associated with constellations of features for PERSON, NUMBER, TENSE, etc. (see Chapter Five,
Section 5.10 for further details):
(91) a. VERB1–1; present plural, all persons; present singular, first and second person.
ple+Ø play
b. VERB2–1; present singular, third person.
ple+z plays
c. VERB3–1; past, all persons and numbers.
ple+d played
d. VERB4–1a; perfective participle.
ple+d played
e. VERB4–1b; passive participle.
ple+d played
f. VERB5–1a; progressive participle.
ple+iõ playing
g. VERB5–1b; gerundial nominal.
ple+iõ playing
h. NOUN1–1; singular.
ple+Ø play
i. NOUN2–1; plural.
ple+z plays
Chapter Three 179
With the feature space in Figure Seven, we can define syntactic categories in terms of residences,
positions in syntactic structure associated with specific grammatical functions (subject, object, etc.)
or semantic relations (specification, modification, etc.). Specifiers reside on the X3 level; modifiers,
on the X2 level; and complements, on the X1 level. The process of encoding sentences, then,
involves building a structure which can “house” any arbitrarily selected item. For example, if a
manner adverb like enthusiastically is selected, the representation must include a V2. Similarly,
decoding sentences entails the same, that is, if a word like enthusiastically is encountered by a
parser, it must merge the word into a V2 structure; if there is no V2, one must be created.
Within each syntactic category, there are apparent idiosyncrasies which are marked in the lexicon.
For example, consider again the feature oppositions [±PRH, ±PSH] in terms of the following
categories:
(92) a. Specific lexical items that are both [+PRH] and [+PSH], i.e., that can occur on either
side of the head, sometimes with a variation in meaning:
1. A few adjectives: the available books; the books available

2. Manner adverbs: quickly left; left quickly
3. Sentence adverbs: probably, he will go; he will go, probably
he [probably will] go; he [will probably] go
4. Temporal quantifiers: he often sings; he sings often
he will soon leave; he will leave soon
5. Nominal quantifiers: as many too many marbles; as many marbles too
many
b. Specific lexical items that are [+PRH] and [–PSH], i.e., that can only occur in
prehead position:
1. Some adverbs: he barely finished;*he finished barely

2. Numerals: those three women; *those women three
those many women; *those women many
c. Specific lexical items that are [–PRH] and [+PSH], i.e., that can only occur in
posthead position:
1. A few adjectives: *the adrift garbage; the garbage adrift

2. Manner adjectives: *he hard threw it; he threw it hard
3. Verbal quantifiers: *he far threw it; he threw it far
4. Locative quantifiers: *he there stood; he stood there
We would like to provide an explanation for these variations and, in many cases, we can. For
example, the class of adjectives including adrift, astern, abroad, etc., which can never occur in
prehead position, are so restricted because they are equivalent to prepositional phrases which also
cannot occur in prehead position. Similarly, locative quantifiers like there are [–PRH, +PSH]
180 Chapter Three
probably because they are also equivalent to prepositional phrases, i.e., in/to/from that place.
Despite a few sporadic uses (the then president, the president then, *the then problem, the problem
then), temporal quantifiers have the same distribution.37 I will discuss such apparent idiosyncrasies
in the next section.
The feature specifications in Figure Seven mark base residences, that is, positions in which a
category is unbound. For example, the base residence for adjectives in English is [–PRH, +PSH].
There are several arguments for this specification.
First, [–PRH, +PSH] is the only possible position for adjectives of any kind in verb phrases: he is
tall/*he tall is and he threw it hard/*he hard threw it.
Second, some adjectives like astern, as we have just noted, are restricted to posthead position in N3
probably because they are actually prepositional phrases (at the stern or toward the stern).
Third, all other adjectives must occur in [+ENH, +PRH, –PSH] position except when they are
specified by an overt degree word (see Endnote 31):
(93) a. a tall woman; *a woman tall; *a that tall woman; a woman that all
b. the easiest students to teach; the students easiest to teach (easiest < –est [Q] easy)
As the above data indicate, a distinction must be made between an overt degree word like that and
an abstract degree word like [–er] or [–est]. When adjectives are not specified by an overt degree
word, they must occur in [+ENN, +PRH, –PSH] position except for a few sporadic cases like
available. Adjectives may also occur in [+ENN, +PRH, –PSH] position when they are specified by
an abstract degree word, e.g., [–er] and [–est]. Otherwise, adjectives in N3 are [–PRH, +PSH].
The real explanation for these restrictions is rooted in conditions on the form of N3 resulting from
constraints on parsing which we now consider.
3.2 THE ENGLISH NOUN PHRASE CONDITION (NPC).
As is well known, English subjects and tensed verbs must agree in number, as the following data
indicate.
(94) a. The books are good.

b. The book is good.
c. *The books is good.
d. *The book are good.
In short, one of the keys to understanding basic clausal structure in English is finding the head of
the subject noun phrase so that it and the tensed verb will agree. This is not a trivial matter.
Consider the following, where the italicized word is the main verb.
Chapter Three 181
(95) a. The school shows play here.
b. The school show plays here.
c. The school shows plays here.
d. The schools show plays here.
Despite the problems posed by such examples, English does have a number of constraints which
facilitate the location of the head of a noun phrase. Individually, the constraints appear arbitrary;
but together, they do not.
First, consider the following:
(96) If the head of a noun phrase is a singular count noun, e.g., a noun like book, then the noun
phrase must have an overt determiner (a word like the or a); if the head is plural (books),
the determiner need not be overt (it can be Ø, the phonologically null DET).
This constraint is illustrated in the following sentences:
(97) a. He is carrying the/a book.

b. He is carrying the books.
c. He is carrying Ø books.
d. *He is carrying Ø book.
Of course, the question is, Why is (97d) ungrammatical? It appears completely arbitrary.
Another constraint on noun phrases in English is the following:
(98) Between the determiner and the head noun of a noun phrase, there can be no plural noun.
This accounts for the data in (99) and (100).
(99) a. She is the teacher of history.

b. She is the history teacher.
c. She is the teacher of languages.
d. *She is the languages teacher.
(100) a. He submitted an abstract of 500 words.

b. *He submitted an abstract of 500 word.
c. He submitted a 500 word abstract.
d. *He submitted a 500 words abstract.
Again, it seems odd that English has the rule (98) and that the starred sentences in (99) and (100)are
impossible: their ungrammaticality appears completely arbitrary.
English noun phrases also obey the following constraint:

182 Chapter Three
(101) Between the determiner and the head noun of a noun phrase, no other determiner can occur.
This is borne out in (102) and accounts for the fact that adjectives containing an overt degree word
cannot occur in [+PRH, –PSH] position.
(102) a. A teacher of this language is hard to find.

*A this language teacher is hard to find.
A language teacher is hard to find.
b. A teacher that clever is hard to find.

*A that clever teacher is hard to find.
A clever teacher is hard to find.
Lastly, the English Noun Phrase Condition contains two other conditions:
(103) Any item which might occur to the left of the determiner must be separated from it by the
preposition of.38
a. A number of the systems are complicated.

b. The number systems are complicated. (here number systems is a compound noun)
(104) A noun head must be separated from posthead elements by some marker, frequently a
preposition. Often this marker is the same preposition used with the associated verb, e.g.,
against in John’s vote against gun control (cf. John voted against gun control). In other
instances it is a complementizer, e.g., that in the man that left. When the verb associated
with the nominal has no strictly subcategorized preposition, the complement of the head
is introduced by the preposition of .39
a. The student letters are here.

The student of letters is here.
b. His love stories are charming.

His love of stories is charming.
The general question is, Why does English have these constraints on the internal structure of its
noun phrases? If we represent these constraints diagrammatically, we have the following structure:
(105) N3
+))))0))))))3))))),
...of.......DET...........N0........of...
.)))0)))-
8 8 X 8 8
anchor cue head anchor
Chapter Three 183
The area marked “X” in (105) is the area in which three of the conditions on noun phrase structure
operate. Within X, there can be only one determiner and only singular nouns; if N0 is a singular
count count, then DET must be overt. Since any violation of these conditions makes it impossible
to locate the head unambiguously, the suggestion is that the conditions are not arbitrary; rather, they
exist to help speakers locate the head of a noun phrase.
Notice that, with the constraints, ambiguity disappears. First, the word of acts like anchor points
(Sternberg 1969; Anderson, John R. 1985) delineating the boundaries of the head. Second, if the
head is singular, the noun phrase must be cued by an overt determiner; we don’t have sentences like
*he is carrying book. Third, if the head is plural, the determiner need not be overt (he is carrying
books), but in such cases one knows that the plural noun must be the head, because the only
allowable plural between the DET and the head is the head. In short, the constraints appear to result
from cognitive limitations. Humans are not clairvoyant and need structural principles to locate the
heads of phrases in languages like English. Such principles are embodied in the NPC.
Given this analysis, we have an explanation for why the past tense has become regular in English
for all persons and number, but the present tense has not. Compare (106) and (107).
(106) Regular Past Tense; played for all persons and number: He/They played.
(107) Irregular Present Tense: He plays versus They play.
The basic problem is that singular and plural noun inflection is identical to verb inflection:
(108) a. play: either a singular noun or a plural present

b. plays: either a plural noun or a singular present
There are many nouns in English that also function as verbs. On the other hand, there are only a few
past tense verbs that are also nouns, and they are all irregular, e.g., cut and hit. Further, locating the
head of an English noun phrase is not a trivial matter. There are many opportunities for ambiguity.
All these potential ambiguities are eliminated by the rule of subject verb agreement. Quite simply,
without the inflectional differences between singular and plural count nouns and between singular
and plural present verbs, speakers would be unable to locate the head of a noun phrase. When these
inflections are removed from the sentences like those in (95), the result is *The school show play
here, which is not interpretable. Hence, the present tense of verbs cannot become regular.
Furthermore, the base residence of adjectives in N3 and V3 is [–PRH, +PSH, +X2L]. However, if
an adjective is not specified by an overt degree word, then it must occur in prehead position of a
noun phrase. If not, (104) will be violated.
The analysis given in this section suggests that we add one last feature opposition [±X1N] to our
feature space, to distinguish categories whose X1 Level can immediately dominate an N3 (transitive
verbs and prepositions):40
184 Chapter Three
(109) a. [+X1N]: categories whose X1 Level can immediately dominate an N3.
b. [–X1N]: categories whose X1 Level cannot immediately dominate an N3.
3.3 PHRASE STRUCTURE FRAMES.
Given the feature space in Figure Seven, it is possible to reduce all phrase structures in English to
variations of one basic schema or “frame”:41
(110) [Xn ([+NML]) ([–NML]) Xm ([+NML]) ([–NML]) ] where m # n
This frame states that each X level must dominate a level of equal or lesser bar value, as stipulated
by the C–command restrictions among specifiers (X3), modifiers (X2), and complements (X1).
Further, (110) states that there may be at most two constituents to the left and to the right of the head
on any X level of any phrase, and [+NML] categories (nouns) must precede [–NML] categories.
We see these restrictions met in all the structures given thus far, as well as more complex phrases
like the following which we will consider in detail in Chapters Seven and Eight:42
(111) a. [N3 [N3 all] [C3 those] [N2 [N3 many] [C3 presidential] [N1 [N3 affirmative action]
[N0 recommendations] [C3 to the Congress] ] [N3 last year]
[C3 to improve employment for minorities] ] ]
b. [N3 [N3 the vice president] [C3 POS] [N2 [N3 twelve] [C3 passionate] [N1
[N0 recommendations] [C3 for affirmative action] ] [N3 this past fall] ]
[V3 which turned out to be politically motivated] ]
In effect, (110) eliminates the standard phrase structure component of grammar. Structures can be
built up as a result of the residences specified in their lexical entry. For example, if the is chosen
at random from the lexicon it must be combined with whatever else has been and will be chosen so
that two conditions are met: (i) the must end up in a position that satisfies its feature specification
(see Figure Seven), and (ii) the resultant structure must obey frame (110).
The general frame specified in (110) means that syntactic categories all refer to the basic phrasal
architecture given in (112), where m # n (for further discussion, see Binkert 1983, 1984, 1994).
(112)
Chapter Three 185
From each X level (m # n), both to the left and to the right of the head, can occur at most two
elements. The first of these two is specified by the feature [+NML]; the second, by the feature
[–NML]. In short, the feature opposition [±NML] actually refers to specific linear positions in a
hierarchy of positions. Thus, [+NML] is something that occurs in position " of (113); [–NML] is
something that occurs in position $.
(113)
The feature [+NML] is the major defining feature of the English syntactic category commonly
referred to as NOUN. As we have seen, all syntactic categories are similarly defined. To take
another example, the feature opposition [±ENH] (in the environment of noun head) refers to either
" or $ in (114).
(114)
The claim here is that there can be at most five units on any one level. Although the above
structures were worked out solely on the basis of syntactic evidence, that is, autonomously, this
number is, interestingly, the lower end of human short term memory capacity (STM; Miller 1956).
One can infer from this that severe restrictions on STM demand that the syntax of human languages
be organized into hierarchical units, and that the definitions of syntactic categories make reference
to those hierarchical units. Despite this interesting correlation, the syntactic system described here
is merely “generative,” in the classical sense of that word (Chomsky 1965: 8–9), that is, the system
merely assigns structural descriptions to arbitrary sentences making no claim about how people
actually produce or understand such sentences.
There are, of course, dependencies. Consider for example the diagram (115).
186 Chapter Three
(115)
In (115), if X is [+NML], then $ is a characterizer, typically, a determiner. If X is [–NML] and *

is [+NML], then X can be a transitive verb and * is its direct object and " is its subject. These
specifications are determined by the syntactic feature matrix given in Figure Seven. From such
specificity, one derives the concept of residence. For example, one says that a determiner is nothing
more than a class of words that resides in X3 Level Prehead position of a noun phrase.
Of course it will be necessary to have certain conditions on well–formedness such as (116), which
we can derive from the morphological universal in (117).
(116) There may be only one mode characterizer on successive recursions of V3.
(117) The One Affix Condition (OAC).
A word cannot be marked by more than one grammatical marker from the same set of
mutually exclusive grammatical markers, i.e., no more than one number, no more than one
tense, no more than one case, etc.
The OAC prevents all of the following: *biggerest, *mans, *wented, *they’s, *persuadeds,
*persuadesed, *persuadinged, *persuadeding, *to went, etc.
Notice that a frame like (110) is an amalgamation of many individual details like the following each
of which can be encoded in a network (see Chapter Five, Section 5.10):
(118) a. Syntactic Feature: a syntactic feature F is a feature from the set of primitives
{NOMINAL, VERBAL, ...}.
b. Syntactic Category: a syntactic category is a syntactic feature matrix E consisting
of pairs :F, where : , {–, +, 1, 2, 3, ...} and where F is a syntactic feature.
c. Projection: a projection of a syntactic feature matrix E0, specified for a lexical
entry, is a syntactic hierarchy that includes E0 and (potentially) other syntactic
feature matrices. In English, the maximal projection of a syntactic feature matrix is
E3, and the minimal projection is E0.
d. Phrase: a syntactic feature matrix E3 representing the maximal projection of E0.
Chapter Three 187
e. Head: the terminal minimal projection E0.
f. Dominance: In a structure of the form ["...X...], if " and X are syntactic feature
matrices and if X is contained within the hierarchy ", then " dominates X. In such
a case, one also says X is bounded by ".
g. Precedence: In a structure of the form ["...X...Y...], if " and X and Y are syntactic
feature matrices and if X is to the left of Y, then X precedes Y.
The specifications in (118) combined with the feature specifications in Figure Seven allow for the
construction of a frame like (110), which is the general form for all phrases, as well as very specific
frames for different types of syntactic categories. All frames must conform to (110). In generating
a parse tree for some arbitrary input, the Langtech Parser (LTP) mentioned in the Preface and
described here first looks up each word in the input and obtains a list of all the syntactic categories
(parts of speech) to which the word belongs. From the specifications summarized in Figure Seven,
the LTP then generates a set of all the possible frames for each of the syntactic categories. For
example, from Figure Seven, the LTP generates the following frames, among others, for the lexical
items that, train, and passenger (note that each frame is a legitimate variation on (110)):
(119) a. that: [N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N1 [N0 NOUN] ]]

b. train: [N3 [N0 train] ]
c. train: [N3 [N1 [N3 [N0 train]] [N0 NOUN] ]]
d. passenger: [N3 [N0 passenger] ]
e. passenger: [N3 [N1 [N3 [N0 passenger]] [N0 NOUN] ]]
The generation of a specific frame like (119a) for the word that follows directly from the fact that
the word that is listed in the lexicon as a DET and all DET are characterizers ([–NML, –VBL]), in
particular, specifiers of nouns ([+PRH, +X3L, +ENH]). Of course, given the lexical items in our
example, many other frames can be generated since that could also be a complementizer or degree
word, train could also be a verb, and so on.
The second step in the parsing process consists of accepting or rejecting the frames which have been
generated by matching the slots in each frame with the individual items in the input string. For
example, given the input string that passenger train, the LTP rejects (119c) because of the conflict
between the order of the words in the input and the order of the elements in the frames. Conversely,
given the input string that train passenger, the LTP rejects (119e).
At this point the merge routines begin. The LTP attempts to combine all the frames for the first
lexical item with all the frames for the second one in such a way that (110) is not violated. Given
the input that passenger, two possibilities emerge:
(120) a. [N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N1 [N0 passenger] ]] = (119d)

b. [N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N1 [N3 [N0 passenger]] [N0 NOUN] ]] = (119e)
The LTP proceeds to the next word, attempting to merge the two structures above with all of the
188 Chapter Three
accepted frames for the word train. In the present simplified example, there is only one frame,
(119b). Thus, the following parse tree is produced (see Chapter Five, Section 5.10 for further
details):
(121) [N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N1 [N3 [N0 passenger]] [N0 train] ]]
Given (110) and the system we have proposed, there are essentially three possibilities for merging
adjacent frames (x) and (y). First, (x) can be merged into (y). This occurs when (119a) is merged
into (119d), given the input that passenger. Second, (y) can be merged into (x). Given the same
string, that passenger, such a merge is impossible since determiners are not open phrase categories
([–OPH]); being closed phrase categories, nothing can be merged into them. Third, (x) and (y) can
remain unmerged with respect to each other, that is, they can be placed on a stack for future merging
that involves some string (z). In the above example, this is essentially what occurs when the frames
involved are (119a) and (119e).
In a three level version of syntax where the resulting parse tree must preserve the linear order of the
input items (the system we have proposed), this means that there are essentially nine possibilities
a parser would consider: (x) is merged somewhere into prehead position on the X3, X2, X1, or X0
level of (y); (y) is merged somewhere into posthead position on the X3, X2, X1, or X0 level of (x);
and (x) and (y) remain unmerged with respect to each other. Given an arbitrary sequence of words
like that passenger, the feature system in Figure Seven eliminates all of these except two, one in
which that and passenger form an N3 with passenger as the head (120a), and another in which that
and passenger remain unmerged with respect to each other allowing for such possibilities as a
compound noun like that passenger train (120b)/(121). As a result, the parser carries only two
possibilities forward to the next word after passenger rather than nine, thereby greatly reducing the
number of potential structures it must subsequently examine. That result is very significant, since
the number of possible parse trees would otherwise increase exponentially as the parser analyzed
successive words.
Note that the number of possibilities a parser considers is directly related to the number of possible
levels the theory of syntax allows. For example, we have argued for a separation of the X2
(modifier/adjunct) and X1 (complement) levels. It would appear that the number of possibilities
could be immediately reduced if modifiers and complements were placed on the same level. But
this is only an apparent simplification; in effect, the burden of analysis must be shifted to some other
component of the grammar or parsing system to determine whether any particular phrase is a
modifier or a complement. We have argued here for the direct generation of disambiguating
structures because the syntactic specifications in the lexicon frequently make disambiguation
transparent. For example, in the overwhelming majority of cases, compound nouns consist of two
adjacent nouns. This is sufficient information for a parser to immediately place the first in prehead
position on the N1 level of the second as in math teachers (the NPC discussed in the last section
prevents the merger of the second into the first). Such a structure indicates directly that math is a
complement and not a modifier, so the parser never has to determine at any other point what the
internal syntactic structure of the N3 math teachers is. Since Spanish is listed in the lexicon as both
a adjective and a noun, two structures are immediately generated for Spanish teachers. Again, the
Chapter Three 189
parser never has to determine at any other point what the internal syntactic structure of the N3
Spanish teachers is.
Of course, the same parser will provide several possible syntactic structures for Spanish math
teachers, even though there is (presumably) no such thing as Spanish math. However, the apparent
nonexistence of Spanish math has nothing to do with the syntax of the phrase Spanish math teachers.
Since it is possible to imagine a context in which Spanish math would be appropriate, the parser
must carry forward the possibility. Still, an ideal and fully implemented parsing system would, in
fact, not generate Spanish math in the majority of contexts by somehow accessing the information
that the phrase is odd during the parsing process. That is, the goal would be to check all the
phonological, morphological, syntactic, semantic, and extra–linguistic information available to the
parser as phrase structure is built up so that only the most likely interpretations are directly
produced, that is, filtering the parse trees during the parse.
As we will see at several points below, the same strategy applies when the empty categories [u] and
[e] are inserted by the merge routines during the parsing process. For example, for the sentences
in (122), the parser provides the ambiguous readings indicated because the lexical specifications for
both promise and visit stipulate that they can have a [u] object in the given contexts.43
(122) a. Whoi did John promise [e]i that Bill would visit [u]?
b. Whoi did John promise [u] that Bill would visit [e]i?
Notice that, at the point that the parser reaches the word that in the above, parsing is effectively
delayed since all occurrences of that are [+PRH] (see Figure Seven); in short, the possible parses
for who did John promise are placed in a holding pattern, i.e., on the stack. Since the word after that
is a proper noun, that cannot be either a determiner or a degree word; it must be a complementizer
embedded in prehead position on the internal X3 level of a V3. It is at that point that frames with
either [e] or [u] in them can be merged with the items previously placed on the stack. We therefore
have the following:
(123) a. [V3 whoi did [V3 John PST [V1 promise [e]i ] [V3 that [V3 Bill...
b. [V3 who did [V3 John PST [V1 promise [u] ] [V3 that [V3 Bill...
If the complete input sentence is Who did John promise that bill, then the parser produces the
following:
(124) [V3 whoi did [V3 John PST [V1 [V1 promise [e]i ] [N3 that [N0 bill]] ] ]]
Note that (125) is not produced because there is no place for a coindexed [e], and every X3 level
WH–phrase must be bound to an [e] (see the ENC below on Page 232):
(125) *[V3 who did [V3 John PST [V1 [V1 promise [u]] [N3 that [N0 bill]] ] ]]
Declarative variants of the above, however, do tolerate a [u] in PCOMP position for some speakers:
190 Chapter Three
(126) a. John promised me that bill.
b. John promised [u] that bill. (cf. I never promised you/[u] a rose garden.)
Crucially, [e] and [u] must occur in every WH–question where a verb allows a [u] PCOMP;
otherwise, the parser would not produce the correct reading for classic examples like the following:
(127) a. Whati did the teacher read [u] to the children from [e]i?
b. *Whati did the teacher read [e]i to the children from [u]?
In their discussion of Optimality Theory, Archangeli and Langendoen (1997:viii–ix) compare the
problem of constructing a grammar to that of a fisherman trying to catch in a net only fish of a
certain type. They describe two possibilities. In one, the fisherman tries to construct an ideal net
which only captures the desired fish. However, they point out that it may not be possible to
construct such a net. Therefore, a second possibility would be to allow the net to catch everything
and construct a device (a separator) to remove all the unwanted things the net has captured. They
further describe Optimality Theory as an attempt to construct the ideal separator, one in which a
grammar generates all sentences, both grammatical and ungrammatical, and separates out the
ungrammatical ones with filters. In terms of this analogy, the LTP is largely an attempt to construct
an ideal net since, at each point in the parse, the goal is to generate and carry forward only fully
grammatical parse trees.44
We have been describing the LTP as operating on a given arbitrary input string, which we may view
either as a string that a user has typed into the parser or a string that the parser itself has constructed
by selecting items at random from the lexicon. Note that the two possibilities are equivalent: when
a parser constructs input sentences by randomly selecting items from the lexicon, it will eventually
construct sentences that are identical to all the sentences that a user might type into it. Many of
these will crash because there is no way to merge the items selected and meet the feature
specifications of Figure Seven. Others will converge, that is, produce a viable parse tree. For
example, if the LTP randomly selects the items the, man and laughed from the lexicon, it can
construct six possible input orders: the man laughed, the laughed man, man the laughed, man
laughed the, laughed the man and laughed man the. All but the first of these input orders will crash
because only the first will produce a parse tree that satisfies the feature specifications of the items
selected as given in Figure Seven, e.g., the must reside in prehead position on the X3 level of a noun
phrase ([+PRH, +X3L, +ENH]).
The one viable parse, the man laughed, is equivalent to the sentence The man laughed, which a user
might potentially type into the parser. Given that input, the LTP produces (128), which consists of
a “User Friendly Output” (UFO) and a tree diagram that specifies the residence of the lexical items.
Chapter Three 191
(128) The clause "the man laughed" is a statement.
The phrase "the man" is a noun phrase and the subject of the verb "laughed".
The word "laughed" is a past tense verb.
The word "laughed" is the main verb of "the man laughed".
The word "man" is a singular common noun.
The word "the" is a determiner specifying the noun "man".
V3
|---------|---------|
| | |
N3 C3 V0
|---------| | VERB
| | | laughed
C3 N0 C0
| NOUN PST
| man
C0
DET
the
Parse trees like (128) are reproduced here in the exact form outputted by the LTP with one
exception. The tree actually contains more specific designations of the parts of speech, e.g.,
NOUN1, which designates a singular count noun. I have replaced these codes with more readily
understandable simplified language. Such specifications identify the usage of the words in context,
e.g., in (128), man is a singular count noun whereas, in (129), it is a present tense verb.
(129) The clause "they man the boats" is a statement.

The phrase "the boats" is a noun phrase and the direct object of the verb "man".
The phrase "they" is a noun phrase and the subject of the verb "man".
The word "boats" is a plural common noun.
The word "man" is a present tense verb.
The word "man" is the main verb of "they man the boats".
The word "the" is a determiner specifying the noun "boats".
The word "they" is a third person plural subject pronoun.
V3
|---------|---------|
| | |
N3 C3 V1
| | |-------------------|
| | | |
N0 C0 V0 N3
PRO PRS VERB |---------|
they man | |
C3 N0
| NOUN
| boats
C0
DET
the
192 Chapter Three
Given a more complex arbitrary input string like The friendly flight attendant patiently described
the safety precautions to the nervous passengers in their native language, the parser produces a tree
exactly like (15), which specifies the residence of all the lexical items so that it is immediately
possible to determine the subject, direct object, modifiers, specifiers, complements, compounds, etc.
and construct the following UFO:
(130) The clause "the friendly flight attendant patiently described the safety precautions to the
nervous passengers in their native language" is a statement.
The phrase "friendly" is an adjective phrase modifying the noun "attendant".
The phrase "in their native language" is a prepositional phrase and a modifier of the verb
"described".
The phrase "nervous" is an adjective phrase modifying the noun "passengers".
The phrase "patiently" is an adverb phrase modifying the verb "described".
The phrase "the friendly flight attendant" is a noun phrase and the subject of the verb
"described".
The phrase "the nervous passengers" is a noun phrase and the object of the preposition "to".
The phrase "the safety precautions" is a noun phrase and the direct object of the verb
"described".
The phrase "their native language" is a noun phrase and the object of the preposition "in".
The phrase "to the nervous passengers" is a prepositional phrase and a complement of the
verb "described".
The word "attendant" is a singular common noun.
The word "described" is a past tense verb.
The word "described" is the main verb of "the friendly flight attendant patiently described
the safety precautions to the nervous passengers in their native language".
The word "flight" is a noun forming a compound noun with "attendant".
The word "flight" is a singular common noun.
The word "friendly" is a common adjective in the positive degree.
The word "in" is a preposition introducing the prepositional phrase "in their native
language".
The word "language" is a singular common noun.
The word "native" is a common adjective in the positive degree.
The word "native" is an adjective forming a compound noun with "language"
The word "nervous" is a common adjective in the positive degree.
The word "passengers" is a plural common noun.
The word "patiently" is a manner adverb in the positive degree.
The word "precautions" is a plural common noun.
The word "safety" is a noun forming a compound noun with "precautions".
The word "safety" is a singular common noun.
The word "the" is a determiner specifying the noun "attendant".
The word "the" is a determiner specifying the noun "passengers".
The word "their" is a third person plural possessive pronoun.
The word "to" is a preposition introducing the prepositional phrase "to the nervous
passengers".
Chapter Three 193
In addition to the above analysis, the LTP produces several other parses including those in which
friendly is analyzed as a descriptive modifier of flight rather than attendant (cf. the friendly skies of
United), native is analyzed as a descriptive adjective modifying language rather than as the
adjectival first member of a compound noun (cf. a language putatively native to America), native
is analyzed as a noun forming the compound native language meaning ‘language of a native,’ and
so on, in various combinations. Frames responsible for different analyses of native are as follows:
(131) a. Ordinary descriptive adjective off N2, e.g., Every star shines by its own native light,
She was dressed in a flamboyantly native costume, etc.:
[N3 [N2 [C3 [C0{ADJ}C0] C3][N0{NOUN}N0] N2] N3]
b. Compound noun in which the first member is an adjective off N1, e.g., His native
language is English, Students should study a foreign language, etc.:
[N3 [N1 [C3 [C0{ADJ}C0] C3][N0{NOUN}N0] N1] N3]
c. Compound noun in which the first member is a noun off N1, e.g., He speaks English
with near native competence, The native uprisings threatened our safety, etc.:
[N3 [N1 [N3 [N0{NOUN}N0] N3][N0{NOUN}N0] N1] N3]
It will not help to simply eliminate one or more of the above frames to cut down on the number of
parses; nor will it help to conflate the N2 and N1 levels. Somewhere in the grammar, we must
account for the fact that obscure language generally is not a compound whereas native language and
foreign language generally are. Nor can we treat native everywhere as an adjective or say that child
is an adjective in child language. The distinctions, however one wishes to term them, are
responsible for all the following:
(132) a. native and foreign must be adjectives (some verbs only take adjective complements):
(1) They look/sound/seem native.
They look/sound/seem foreign.
(2) *They look/sound/seem natives.
*They look/sound/seem foreigners.
b. native and child must be nouns:

(1) The natives/the children are restless.
That native/that child is restless.
(2) *That is a very child language.
*That language is much too child.
c. Modifers and compound elements are syntactically different:

(1) an obscure native language/an obscure foreign language
(2) *a native obscure language/*a foreign obscure language
194 Chapter Three
The elimination of syntactically correct but inappropriate parses is a major problem for which there
is no easy solution. For the present, observe that selecting the most relevant parse from the above
variations is more a matter of extra-linguistic information than the syntax and semantics of English
so that the objective of constructing an ideal net is mostly on target (recall the discussion of Spanish
math teachers earlier). I will return to such matters in Chapter Five, when I discuss the LTP in
greater detail.
3.4 COMPARISON WITH OTHER FEATURE SYSTEMS.
The system of features described above has a number of advantages over other systems that have
been suggested within the framework of X–bar theory. For example, Jackendoff (1977: 31–33) uses
the feature [±Obj] to specify categories “whose complements may include a surface NP direct object
after the head, i.e. V[erb] and P[reposition].” The problem is that we have intransitive verbs and
intransitive prepositions. If the distinguishing characteristic of V and P is that they can have direct
objects, then intransitive verbs and prepositions can’t be verbs and prepositions.
Similarly, Jackendoff uses [±Comp] to distinguish verbs from modals, prepositions from particles,
nouns from quantifiers, and adjectives from adverbs. The former category in each pair is [+Comp];
the latter, [–Comp]. The trouble is that there are members of the first category in each pair which
can never take a complement. An adjective like tall, which can never take a complement, must
therefore be an adverb. But that is clearly wrong.
The dominant feature space in Minimalism (Chomsky 1995: 32; Webelhuth 1995: 30) and GPSG
(Gazdar et al. 1985) has been (133):
(133) a. Noun = [+N, –V]

b. Adjective = [+N, +V]
c. Verb = [–N, +V]
d. Preposition = [–N, –V]
But the oppositions [±N] and [±V] have never been defined precisely; furthermore, (133) is
obviously deficient since it only specifies four categories, saying nothing about other phrasal
categories which have figured prominently in syntactic theory like S, IP, CP, etc.
Other than Jackendoff (1977) there has been very little exploitation of syntactic features within the
framework of TG and any of its descendants since Chomsky 1965. As Webelhuth notes (1995: 87):
“With the exception of the condition that case markers must be [–N], relatively little explanatory
usage has been made of categorial cross–classification.” This is unfortunate because, as we have
seen in semantics, features allow both generality and specificity. For example, in the present system,
all uses of the word that (determiner, degree word, demonstrative pronoun, complementizer, relative
pronoun) have the same residence [+X3L, +PRH, "ENH, –"EVH, ...]:
Chapter Three 195
(134) that: [X3 that [X0 ] ]
Given the word that, one can build the structure (134) without reference to context. The choices for
the head of the phrase which that specifies are limited as follows (as before, “[u]” = understood):45
(135) a. determiner: [N3 that [N0 noun ] ] that man

b. degree word: [N3 that [N0 quantifier ] ] that much
c. demonstrative pronoun: [N3 that [N0 u ] ] that [u] is good
d. complementizer: [V3 that [V0 verb ] ] that he went
e. relative pronoun: [V3 that [V0 verb ] ] (a guy) that I met
This level of generality is very important in parsing. A crucial purpose of features is to provide a
mechanism by which phrase structures can be built up from lexical specifications, that is, projected
from the lexicon. An arbitrary string, say, that man, can be assigned a syntactic structure by
merging the possible structures for that with the possible structures for man. Further, a structure
which is independent of context, namely (134), can be assigned to that facilitating parsing of such
examples as the following:
(136) a. He knows only that man.

b. He knows only that she went.
(137) a. He believes that man is endangered. (ambiguous)

He believes that that man is endangered.
He believes man is endangered.
b. He believes that animal is endangered. (unambiguous)

He believes that that animal is endangered.
*He believes animal is endangered.
Importantly, I am not claiming that all uses of that are exactly the same. As a result, that occurs in
several different subclasses in Figure Seven. On the other hand, all uses of that do have many
morphosyntactic features in common, namely, they are all [–VBL, –NML, –OPH, –OCL, +X3L,
–X2L, –X1L, +PRH, –PSH, –ECH]. Further, although all uses of that are [–NML], that is, lack
inherent number, the determiner that is subject to agreement rules because it specifies (noun) heads
which do have inherent number distinctions. On the other hand, the complementizer that is
invariable, because it specifies (verb) heads which do not have inherent number distinctions. We
might expect number agreement in English in the relative complementizer that, but it does not occur:
(138) a. That man/*men left.

b. Those/*that men left.
c. The man who was here left./The men who were here left
d. The man that was here left./The men that were here left.
e. That man that was here left./*Those man those were here left.
196 Chapter Three
The absence of number agreement in complementizers and the presence of number agreement in
determiners suggest that agreement is transmitted from the head of a phrase to its specifiers. Nouns
and verbs are distinguished from each other in that the former show inherent variations in number
[+NML], while the latter do not [–NML]. Thus, it is the nature of the head of a phrase that seems
to control agreement possibilities: determiners show number distinctions because the heads that they
specify have inherent number distinctions; complementizers don’t show number distinctions,
because the heads that they specify do not have inherent number distinctions. Thus, we account for
both the similarities and the differences between determiners and complementizers. The issue here
is the same issue seen in Chapter One, namely, a feature system must allow us to express generalities
across categories, such as the various thematic uses of from seen in our discussion of [+DSJ]
relations, as well as specific differences, such as the use of by to mark the agent in the passive.
3.4.1 THE DP AND CP ANALYSES.
The above feature space is, of course, in conflict with approaches to generative syntax that make
functional categories the heads of phrases. Specifically, in some recent versions (Chomsky 1995),
complementizers and determiners are heads of phrases, CP (Complementizer Phrase) and DP
(Determiner Phrase), respectively. Each head, COMP and DET, can take a complement: COMP has
IP complements, DET has NP complements.46 The structures involved are the following:
(139) a. [CP [C' [C that] [IP John saw Bill]]]

b. [DP [D' [D that] [NP book]]]
It seems to me that the CP analysis must be accepted if the DP analysis is accepted, and vice versa.47
It has long been known that there are many parallels between the internal structure of sentences and
noun phrases (cf. 13); in fact, these parallels are what motivated the original proposals for X–bar
syntax (Chomsky 1970; Jackendoff 1977). Thus, the two analyses (CP and DP) are dependent on
each other. If one is accepted and the other isn’t, it becomes difficult to generalize the relationships
between sentences and noun phrases, just as it was difficult to do so within the framework of the
Standard Theory (Chomsky 1965) when one attempted to relate S and NP. The problem is that
analyses of the internal structure of both CP and DP have not included all the internal structural
possibilities. The internal structure of the English noun phrase, for example, is extraordinarily
complex given examples like all those five–hundred very expensive office machines for advanced
computing on sale via TV ads that the university is considering buying, which I wouldn’t give you
a dime for. This NP has the following structure, which I will discuss in detail in Chapter Seven:
(140) [N3 [N3 [N3 all] [C3 those] [N2 [N2 [N3 five hundred] [C3 very expensive] [N1 [N3 office] [N0
machines] [C3 for advanced computing] ] ] [V3 that...] ] ] [V3 which...] ]
Clearly, one cannot reject proposals simply because they are incomplete. On the other hand, one
cannot ignore the fact that the proposals are incomplete and, in the case of the DP analysis, very
sketchy and controversial. The DP and CP analyses are based on many assumptions, and, to my
knowledge, there is no summary proposal of both that is agreed on by all adherents.
Chapter Three 197
The major difference between (139) and the feature specifications in Figure Seven is that the former
treats determiners and complementizers as heads, whereas the latter treats them as specifiers. There
are a number problems associated with structures like those in (139).
First, every language in the world appears to have nouns and verbs. More importantly, nouns and
verbs, whether overt or [e], are obligatory constituents of phrases. On the other hand, determiners
and complementizers are frequently optional phrasal elements. For example, although it is possible
to express definiteness and indefiniteness in Latin and Japanese, noun phrases very frequently lack
all specific reference to either. The features proposed above, specifically [+NML] and [+VBL], are
apparently universal. They define nouns and verbs, respectively. The universality and prominence
of nouns and verbs suggests that they are not dependent categories. Yet, the structures in (139)
place them in complement position, which is a dependent position: one cannot have a complement
without a head. It is inconceivable that a language will have complementizers and determiners but
lack verbs and nouns. Yet, the reverse is conceivable. Further, if the presence of a noun in
structure is dependent on the presence of a determiner, what accounts for the fact that nominal
inflections like number are generally, if not universally, inherent features of nouns rather than
determiners? Why are there no languages in which all nouns are invariable as regards number and
all determiners always inflect for number distinctions?48
Notice that the issue is not simply whether determiners and complementizers, on the one hand, are
different from nouns and verbs, on the other. They clearly are, even in the Minimalist Program
(Chomsky 1995). The problem is the structural configurations in (139) which place the determiner
and complementizer in head position. How do we reconcile those configurations with the following
parallel structure which TG and related theories assign to prepositional phrases:
(141) [PP [P' [P with] [XP him]]]
As Chomsky has observed (1995: 53), the notions specifier, adjunct and complement are “functional
(relational)”; thus, we speak of “a relation specifier–of, and so on.” This is exactly what we have
described in the proposals we have made: the three relations, specifier, adjunct (=modifier), and
complement, are those that exist between the head of a phrase and its X3, X2, and X1 level elements,
respectively. X3 level residents are the specifiers of the head, X2 level residents are the modifiers
of the head, and X1 level residents are the complements of the head. However, given structures like
those in (139) and (141), how are these relational concepts to be generalized across categories?
Clearly, the relationship between that and book in (139b) is not the same as the relationship between
with and him in (141). Moreover, given such structures, what do typological classifications like
head–final language and head–initial language mean? For example, English is clearly not a
head–initial language as that phrase is ordinarily used; also, phrases like that John saw Bill and that
book are clearly separate constituents, and separate constituents clearly must have a head. Given
structures like (139), the head of that John saw Bill is the complementizer and the head of that book
is the determiner. Thus, English must be a head–initial language in some new sense of that phrase.
Second, as the heads of phrases, both DET and COMP in (139) have complements off their X'
projection making them transitive. This raises an important question: What examples are there of
198 Chapter Three
intransitive DET and COMP? Although I know of no proposals regarding intransitive COMP, as
far back as Postal (1969), it has been suggested that pronouns are intransitive DET. More recently,
Abney (1987) has made the same suggestion. He argues (Pages 281–282) that “it is mysterious why
pronouns do not appear with any noun specifiers: determiners, possessives, adjectives, quantifiers,
measure phrases are all prohibited,” e.g., *the she that I talked to was nice. But this is not
mysterious at all: personal pronouns refer to noun phrases (the maximal projection of N0) not to
nouns; thus, they cannot be specified or modified the way that nouns can.49
Yet, the lack of intransitive DET and COMP calls for explanation. Alongside of transitive verbs and
prepositions, languages generally have intransitive members of the same categories; often, the same
word can be used both transitively and intransitively. Further, such words, whether transitive or
intransitive, show the same syntactic and semantic variations. For example, both transitive and
intransitive verbs can be subgrouped into those that are positional (transitive put and intransitive go)
versus nonpositional (transitive give and intransitive have), phrasal (transitive eat up and intransitive
die out) versus nonphrasal (transitive ingest and intransitive expire), gradable (transitive completely
overestimate the job and intransitive completely misbehave) versus nongradable (transitive
*completely estimate the job and intransitive *completely behave), and so on. Why aren’t there any
parallel sets of words for the categories DET and COMP?
More challenging to the Postal/Abney analysis is the fact that the inflectional categories associated
with pronouns and determiners are very different even when they appear to be the same form. For
example, in Italian the object pronoun la is marked for person and case, contrasting with other
pronouns like mi, ti, io, tu, etc. Conversely, the Italian determiner la is not marked for either person
or case; none of the determiners in Italian show these distinctions. If the pronoun and the determiner
are related, why don’t they show the same inflectional variations? The reason seems simple:
pronouns and determiners are different in distribution and use, so that one cannot be considered the
intransitive variation of the other.
Notice also that pronouns in many languages fall into a variety of subclasses like personal pronouns,
reflexive pronouns, intensive pronouns, etc., subclasses which appear not to exist for determiners.
If determiners and pronouns are members of the same category, why don’t they show the same
variations the way, say, transitive and intransitive verbs do? According to Greenberg (1963: 96),
“all languages have pronominal categories involving at least three persons and two numbers.”
Nothing similar can be said about determiners.
All the above facts and problems suggest that pronouns and determiners are not members of the
same category. Thus, we are left with a curious gap: although other categories with transitive
members (verbs and prepositions) also have intransitive members, DET and COMP do not. More
importantly, given the DP/CP analysis, DET and COMP are unique categories in English in that they
are the only heads of phrases which require a complement. There are noun phrases that only contain
a noun, e.g., Mary saw John, adjectives phrases that only contain an adjective, e.g., Mary is tall,
prepositional phrases that only contain a preposition, e.g., Mary went out, and so on. But there is
no DP that only contains a DET,50 and no CP that only contains a COMP:
Chapter Three 199
(142) a. *I want the.
b. *I wonder if.
A third problem with the DP and CP analyses concerns extraction. Complements of verbs and
prepositions can generally be extracted, which means that the heads of VP and PP can license trace:
(143) a. It is [those proposals]i that he reviewed/criticized [e]i.

b. It is [those proposals]i that he objected to [e]i.
c. It is [to those proposals]i that he objected [e]i.
d. It is [those proposals]i that he is unhappy with [e]i.
e. It is [those proposals]i that he is unsure/critical of [e]i.
On the other hand, attempts to extract the complement of a DET or COMP always fail:
(144) a. *It is [book]i that I read that [e]i.

b. *It is [he went]i that she said that [e]i.
The examples in (144) are not simply ungrammatical; they are barely interpretable. If complements
of other categories can be extracted, why can’t the complements of DET and COMP be similarly
extracted? Notice that we cannot account for the ungrammaticality of (144) by stipulating that DET
and COMP are not case assigners, since extraction of the complements of nouns and adjectives,
which also do not assign case (Chomsky 1995: 112), often produces much better results:51
(145) a. It is [to those proposals]i that he has objections [e]i.

b. It is [with those proposals]i that he is unhappy [e]i.
c. It is [in those proposals]i that he has confidence [e]i.
Similarly, (144) cannot be related to proper government. Following Chomsky (1995: 78ff.), let us
assume that there are two main categories of proper government: antecedent government, where a
trace is governed by an antecedent, and head government, where a trace is governed by a head.
According to Chomsky’s categorization, verbs and prepositions are proper governors, but COMP
is not.52
Consider now the following examples from Chomsky (1995:85) slightly modified to conform with
preceding representations:
(146) a. *We decided John to leave at noon.

*we decided [CP [e] [IP John to leave at noon]]
b. We decided to leave at noon.

we decided [CP [e] [IP PRO to leave at noon]]
In these examples, according to Chomsky, [e] is not a proper governor; consequently, John cannot
receive case, and PRO is allowed. Now consider the following:
200 Chapter Three
(147) a. *We plan the family to leave at noon.
*we plan [CP [e] [IP the family to leave at noon]]
b. We plan to leave at noon.

we plan [CP [e] [IP PRO to leave at noon]]
c. We plan the family reunions to coincide with vacations.

we plan [CP [e] [IP the family reunions to coincide with vacations]]
In these examples, if we say that the family cannot receive case in (147a) because it is not properly
governed and that PRO is allowed in (147b) because it lacks case, then what accounts for the
grammaticality of (147c)? Clearly, the structure of (147a) and (147c) is the same. It seems to me
that the explanation for (147) must be derived from semantic considerations, not syntactic
considerations. Simply put, one can plan events, but not people (I will return to such examples in
Chapter Seven where I will discuss PRO and infinitives in detail).
A fourth problem with the DP/CP analysis concerns case assignment itself. Notice that transitive
governors like verbs and prepositions assign case to their complements, whereas DET and COMP
do not. For example, in a phrase like find the boy, case is assigned to the complement by find, not
by the. What is the explanation for this disparity? Why can pronouns be the direct object of verbs
and prepositions, but not DET and COMP? Consider the following:
(148) a. I saw them.

b. I gave it to them.
c. *Look at the them.
d. *Sue knows that Bill will go, and I know that it too.
In terms of case assignment, then, DET and COMP fall in with ADJ and NOUN, a curious
constellation of four categories that needs some principled explanation. None of the four categories
assigns case; however, DET also apparently “transmits” case to its complement while COMP, ADJ
and NOUN do not. In languages like German where determiners agree with the nouns they specify,
both determiners and nouns have the same case. This is not what one would expect in a
representation that places the noun in complement position of the determiner. Specifically, one
would expect the noun to have a case (accusative) and the determiner either to have no case at all,
like a governing verb or preposition, or to have a case assigned on completely independent grounds.
Thus, one might expect the head of a DP in subject position to have nominative case, but the
complement of that head to still have accusative case akin to examples like Who of them is healthy.
A fifth problem with the DP/CP analysis concerns pronominalization. If pronouns and determiners
are not members of the same syntactic category as I suggested above, then pronominalization
becomes an aberrant process because a pronoun will refer to a DP rather than an NP even though
a pronoun agrees in gender with the noun that is the head of the NP complement inside of the DP.
Chapter Three 201
(149) a. [the boy]i said that [he]i wants to go.
[DP [D' the [NP boy]]] said that [NP he] wants to go.
b. [The boy’s [mother]]i said that [she]i wants to go.

[DP [DP [D' the [NP boy]]] [D' POS [NP mother]]] said that [NP she] wants to go.
The head of the subject phrase in (149a) is the; in (149b) it is the possessive determiner represented
as POS. The problem with the above examples involves accounting for the possible coreference
between the pronoun he and its antecedent the boy in (149a) and the possible coreference between
the pronoun she and its antecedent the boy’s mother in (149b). As we saw above in (148c), personal
pronouns cannot be the complements of determiners; they refer to maximal projections. Thus, it
seems that we must conclude that pronouns like he and she above match the gender of the DP as a
whole or the head of the DP. At the same time, we must say that a DP with a DET head is somehow
different from one with a POS head, since any mechanism which is used to match the gender
between he and its antecedent in (149a) cannot also be used to match the gender between she and
its antecedent in (149b). For example, suppose that gender is either an inherent property of the DP
head or an “inherited” property which the DP head receives from its complement. Under either
proposal, there is a problem with POS. It is generally accepted in movement approaches to syntax
(see Abney 1987: 64–65 and Radford 1990: 86 ff.) that POS cliticizes to the preceding possessor
noun phrase. Given this, when POS is cliticized to the boy in (149b), it will carry the gender of
mother in addition to its own gender. But a genitive pronoun, unlike a possessive adjective, always
agrees in gender with the possessor, never the possessed. This is true even in English where
pronouns must agree with their antecedent in gender. Note that the gender, as well as the number,
of the genitive pronouns her and his in examples like (150) has nothing to do with the nouns that
follow them.
(150) a. Maryi loves heri brother’s daughter(s)/son(s)/car(s).

b. Johni loves hisi sister’s daughter(s)/son(s)/car(s).
Thus, gender cannot be assigned, inherited, or transmitted to POS. In fact, POS must have no
gender at all. Since the head POS cannot have a gender, we cannot assume that gender is a feature
of the entire DP either without violating principles regarding the endocentric nature of phrases. As
a result, how do we account for the possible coreference between she and its antecedent in (149b)?
With what does she agree in gender? The answer seems fairly clear: with mother, the head of the
phrase the boy’s mother.
A sixth problem with the DP/CP analysis concerns movement. Making COMP the head of CP and
governor of IP entails that modals and other verbs will move from an I position to a C position
(I–to–C Movement) to generate a question like will he go (see Roberts 1997 and Radford 1997 for
discussion). The derivation proceeds from (151a) to (151b):
(151) a. [CP [C' [C [e] ] [IP [DP he] [I' [I will [VP go ] ]]] ]]
b. [CP [C' [C willi ] [IP [DP he] [I' [I [e]i [VP go ] ]]] ]]
202 Chapter Three
The derivation in (151) requires a verb (will) to move into a nonverb (COMP) position. But verbs
and complementizers have very little in common. If this sort of movement is allowed then principles
must be found to prevent, say, the movement of adverbs into adjective positions, the movement of
prepositions into quantifier positions, and so on. And, if those movements are banned, then why is
the movement in (151) allowed?
Given the status of present research, the structures in (139) would appear to be highly speculative.
Yet, in a surprising statement, Webelhuth (1995: 54) offers the following summary: “The analysis
of Comps, Infls, and Dets as X–bar–theoretic heads is by now generally accepted.” That summary
is offered despite the fact that many fundamental issues are unresolved and unaccounted for, and that
the structures in (139) are based on many assumptions. It is important to remember that the DP/CP
proposals are just that, proposals. I am not suggesting that assumptions are inappropriate in
linguistic analysis. Scientific investigation often proceeds from assumptions. But clearly one must
not lose sight of what the assumptions are.53
3.4.2 RADFORD’S ACCOUNT OF THE ACQUISITION OF ENGLISH SYNTAX.
In his analysis of the acquisition of English syntax in young children, Radford (1990) classifies DET
and COMP as functional categories. He observes that the early speech of children, between 18 and
24 months of age (±20%), is characterized by the absence of such functional categories.54 This
observation, in itself, does not entail that we incorporate a DP/CP analysis into our description of
language development in children as Radford does. In this section, I will argue that here is no
reason to suppose that children move from an NP to a DP analysis, reversing their conceptualization
of noun phrases as the heads of phrases that fill argument positions, as Radford’s analysis demands.
Radford asserts (1990: 70) that “the head/complement parameter” (the positioning of a complement
after the head) is “correctly set at an early age.” Actually, by 24 months, children appear to evince
knowledge of basic argument structure as the following examples attest (Radford 1990: 84):
(152) a. Paula good girl. (= ‘Paula is a good girl.’)

b. Haley draw boat.
c. Yellow crayon there.
d. Help cow in table.
e. Man drive truck.
f. Wayne in garden.
g. Want chocolate biscuit.
h. Daddy want golf ball.
i. Lady get sweetie now.
Given thousands of examples like the above in many studies (see, especially, Wells 1985 and
Tomasello 1992), it is clear that many two–year–olds understand that English is an SVO language,
however they conceptualize S, V, and O. They also understand that the S and O positions can be
filled by noun phrases, which, in turn, minimally consist of a noun. Further, anything that is part
Chapter Three 203
of a noun phrase must precede the noun. As Radford notes (1990: 63): “There seems to be abundant
evidence that children do indeed ‘know’ at a very early age that adjectives can be used to premodify
nominal constituents.”
Since the head/complement parameter seems to be set at an early age, one can say that many
two–year–olds seem to understand that noun phrases can fulfill the relation complement–of –verbs
in the sense of Chomsky 1995: 53. Further, it seems that such children understand the selectional
relationship between verbs and their complements: they do not say things like *Man drive biscuit.55
In short, the use of a noun as the head of a noun phrase complement is dependent on the verb which
precedes it. Given Radford’s data and analysis, one can also say that such children understand the
selectional restrictions between adjectives and nouns: they say things like Big heavy book, but not
*Big heavy garden. Thus, adjectives fulfill the relationship modifier–of –nouns, that is, the use of
an adjective depends on the noun that follows it. Essentially then, the child’s conceptualization of
grammatical relationships is traditional in the sense that it conforms to traditional grammars going
back to the Greeks and Romans.
In his overall assessment of early child English, Radford (1990: Chapter 9, p. 242) makes the
following proposal: “the nonacquisition of determiners and case are inter–related phenomena if we
posit that case is an inherent property of the determiner system: we could then say that the absence
of case constraints on (pro)nominals in early child English follows from the fact that case is a
property of the D–system, and early child (pro)nominals have the status of NPs rather than DPs.”
Thus, under Radford’s analysis, children move from a conceptualization in which nouns are the
heads of phrases occupying complement position to one in which determiners are the heads of
phrases occupying complement position. Further, while adjectives are constituents of noun phrases,
determiners are not; rather, nouns are the complements of determiners. What is the evidence for
these conceptual shifts? On what basis would children make them? I find no substantive answers
to these questions in Radford’s work. It seems, therefore, that he offers a DP analysis because it
conforms to current descriptions in movement based models of grammar. In my view, this is not
sufficient motivation for assuming such dramatic conceptual shifts.
As an alternative to Radford’s account, we might simply appeal to the linear order of phrasal
constituents. At the predeterminer stage, noun phrases have the following linear constraints, among
others:
(153) a. ADJ – NOUN: yellow crayon

b. NOUN – NOUN: golf ball
c. ADJ – ADJ – NOUN: big heavy book
At the determiner stage, children begin to produce sentences like the following (from Radford 1990:
284–288):
(154) a. We saw the lighthouse.

b. The ten little ducks.
c. I’m drinking my cup of tea there.
204 Chapter Three
d. My pretty frock.
e. All the green faces.
f. Jean wants a green one.
g. I’m drinking my cup of tea.
h. He’s granny’s dog.
i. Every single one.
We can account for such data by saying that they conform to the following linear sequences, which,
in fact, conform to adult speech as we have seen (QUANT = quantifier; NUM = numeral):56
(155) a. (QUANT) (DET) (NUM) (ADJ) (ADJ) (NOUN) NOUN (PP)
b. (NOUN + POS) (NUM) (ADJ) (ADJ) (NOUN) NOUN (PP)
Nothing more need be said; in particular, we need not postulate any conceptual shifts in the
dependency relationships which exist between verbs and their complements or nouns and their
modifiers.57
In the present framework, adjectives and determiners are characterizers; in adult speech, the former
are [–X3L], the latter are [+X3L]. The transition from a rule system like (155) based only (or
perhaps primarily) on linear order to one based on both linear and hierarchical order, such as the one
we have proposed for adult speech, requires nothing more than level separations. We might
propose that, at the predeterminer stage, children simply cannot process phrases requiring the
[±X3L] projection: their phrases are still hierarchically rudimentary. Later, as they mature, the
determiner system is acquired and they add the [±X3L] distinction defining DET as [+X3L] and
ADJ as [–X3L]. Nothing else has changed; in particular, nouns are still heads of N3; all categories
are still endocentric; and nouns and verbs retain their central position in syntax. The later
development simply marks both specifiers and modifiers as dependent categories in an expanding
hierarchy that now includes a maximal projection of X3.
It seems reasonable to relate this growth in hierarchical organization to changes in children’s

cognitive abilities, in particular, their ability to manage more complex phrases within the confines
of Short Term Memory (STM) limitations. Thus, in the developing child, the STM “workspace”
may increase because an older child can manipulate items better, that is, has better informational
processing skills, including better skills for the identification of items, the association of items with
each other, the encoding of ordering information, the development of rehearsal strategies, as well
as better integration of STM elements with general knowledge from Long Term Memory and greater
experience with memory tasks. Olson (1973:153) sums up the matter well: “The changes [in STM
capacity] are associated with the child’s ability to recode or encode, to plan and monitor, to integrate
and unitize. Broad limits of information processing capacity, which may be biological in origin, are
relatively constant, but how the child operates within these limits undergoes systematic and
profound development.”
Chapter Three 205
It is important to emphasize that the features presented in the present framework are proposed for
English, and adult English at that. There is no reason to believe that the features proposed for one
language will be relevant for all languages or even to all variations of the same language.
Hierarchical features like [±X3L], though relevant for adult English, may not be relevant for
languages with “flatter” phrasal architectures. Such languages might use features based on
elaborate classifier or agreement systems to maintain the integrity of phrases instead of rigid
hierarchical and linear constraints. Further, children learning English apparently cannot cope in the
early stages with phrases that have several distinct levels. Initially, it appears that children have
only a very rudimentary understanding of the hierarchical structure of English phrases, perhaps
limited to X1 over X0, where X1 is the maximal projection of X0 as follows:
(156) a. [X1 mommy [X0 coat ] ]

b. [X1 pretty [X0 baby ] ]
c. [X1 more [X0 milk ] ]
d. [X1 more [X0 tickle] ]
e. [X1 [X0 see ] truck ]
f. [X1 [X0 want ] crayons ]
g. [X1 [X0 need ] it ]
Only latter can children cope with the distinctions between higher levels, consistently managing
phrases in which specifiers C–command modifiers and modifiers C–command complements, thereby
utilizing all level distinctions such that the maximal projection of X0 ultimately becomes X3.58
As we have remarked above (see Endnote 32), the parallel with phonological features is
significant.59 The human vocal apparatus is capable of executing a multitude of phonological
features. All features do not appear in every language, nor do all languages necessarily make use
of any particular feature in the same way. For example, although most languages select the feature
opposition [±NASAL], some don’t. In English, nasality is distinctive for consonants, but not for
vowels; in French, it is distinctive for both. In Sanskrit, aspiration is distinctive for stops; in
English, it is nondistinctive. Further, children, regardless of the language they are acquiring, do not
master all the phonological feature distinctions at the same time. The proposals made here are in
agreement with these facts since they stipulate only that a language must select its features from a
universal pool of features defined in terms of the human language apparatus. We should not be
surprised if some syntactic features are irrelevant for this or that language or if some syntactic
features appear during acquisition at later stages than others. Indeed, we should expect such
variation.
206 Chapter Three
3.5 THE AUXILIARY SYSTEM IN ENGLISH.
Within the Standard Theory of TG and its descendants, there has been a major effort to provide an
account of the various positions different elements can assume in surface structure syntax, that is,
to motivate movement. In this context, the analysis of the English auxiliary system, together with
other data, has lead to proposals regarding verb movement (the movement of a verb) and head
movement (the movement of a head) from its underlying positions to its surface positions (for a
representative sample of papers, see Lightfoot and Hornstein 1994; see also Pollock 1989, Chomsky
1995, Lasnik 2000). Given the importance of the issues, it seems appropriate to describe how the
feature system proposed here will handle the various restrictions among the elements of the English
auxiliary. Furthermore, an analysis of the English auxiliary is necessary to further explicate the
feature space in Figure Seven and to independently motivate the structures necessary to express
thematic relations and case in Chapter Four.
3.5.1 PRELIMINARIES.
Let us begin the investigation of the English auxiliary with some well known facts.
First, every English clause must contain a subject N3, a mode marker, and a main verb. Thus, our
representations above are all variations of the following in accordance with (110) and the
specification ( , {1, 2, 3, 4} (see (7h)):
(157) [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [(MDE]]] V0]
As we have noted before, the structure in (157) is essentially the same as the phrase structure for
declarative sentences in the Standard Theory of TG (Chomsky 1965: 85) and much other work.
(158) a. [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 2TNS ]] V0]
b. [S NP [AUX [TNS PST ]] VP]
Like all characterizers, the mode characterizer has the full range of morphosyntactic features we
have proposed, namely, [–VBL, –NML, –OPH, –OCL, +PRH, –PSH, –ENH, +EVH, –ECH, –XIL,
–X2L, +X3L] in addition to a particular realization of the feature MODE, i.e., [(MDE]. The feature
system we have proposed will allow the mode characterizer in (158a) to contain concordant features
of TENSE, NUMBER, PERSON, etc. even though it is a characterizer [–VBL, –NML], and, as such,
cannot have inherent TENSE, NUMBER, PERSON, etc.
Crucially, we want to relate the structure in (158a) to the internal structure of noun phrases as
follows, where [3CAS] = POSSESSIVE (see (7d) and the pair of structures in (13)):
Chapter Three 207
(159) a. [V3 [N3 John] [C3 [C0 2TNS, 1MDE ]] [V0 depart ] ] (John departed)
b. [N3 [N3 John] [C3 [C0 3CAS ]] [N0 departure] ] (John’s departure)
Second, the verb that is marked for tense/mode in English is also the verb that is marked for
person/number agreement with the subject. Since English has several tense distinctions, three
person distinctions, and two number distinctions, it is clear that the mode characterizer is a
composite category. We have represented some of the inflectional options it encodes as follows:
(160) a. NUMBER: [0NUM] = [–NUM], unmarked for NUMBER

[1NUM] = [+NUM], specifically SINGULAR (SG)
[2NUM] = [+NUM], specifically PLURAL (PL)
b. PERSON: [0PER] = [–PER], unmarked for PERSON

[1PER] = [+PER], specifically FIRST PERSON (1ST)
[2PER] = [+PER], specifically SECOND PERSON (2ND)
[3PER] = [+PER], specifically THIRD PERSON (3RD)
c. TENSE: [0TNS] = [–TNS], unmarked for TENSE

[1TNS] = [+TNS], specifically PRESENT (PRS)
[2TNS] = [+TNS], specifically PAST (PST)
[3TNS] = [+TNS], specifically FUTURE (FUT)
d. MODE: [0MDE] = [–MDE], unmarked for MODE

[1MDE] = [+MDE], specifically INDICATIVE
[2MDE] = [+MDE], specifically IMPERATIVE
[3MDE] = [+MDE], specifically SUBJUNCTIVE
[4MDE] = [+MDE], specifically CONDITIONAL
[5MDE] = [+MDE], specifically PARTICIPIAL
[6MDE] = [+MDE], specifically GERUNDIAL
[7MDE] = [+MDE], specifically INFINITIVAL
We can express the person/number agreement between the subject and the mode characterizer with
the following frame, where the Greek letters represent {1, 2, 3, 4}.
(161) [V3 [N3 [N0 "NUM, $PER]] – [C3 [C0 (MDE, "NUM, $PER]] – V0]
Third, English requires the mode characterizer to contain a verb to “support” the tense and
agreement features. The support verb (henceforth, SV) can be a modal like will or could, or a form
of the verbs be, have, or do. I will argue that a verb must have one of two characteristics to be an
SV, that is, to reside in the mode characterizer. I will express these restrictions in the following
form:
208 Chapter Three
(162) The Support Verb Condition (SVC).
A verb can function as a support verb if it is [+VBL, –OPH, –OCL] and, further, has either
one of the following characteristics:
a. The verb must assign no theta–roles, which means it must have no local subject or
complements.
b. The verb must be “morphologically heavy,” which means it must carry overt
markings for PERSON, NUMBER, and TENSE.
In English, verbs which satisfy condition (162a) include modals, perfective have, and do; verbs
satisfying condition (162b) include only the verb be in the forms am, is, are, was, and were.60 All
of these verbs are [–OCL], that is, closed class verbs.
Consistent with structures given above, when the SV occurs in the mode characterizer, it has the
following residence:
(163) [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 SV ]] [C0 [(MDE]]]] V0]
As above, we can express the agreement between an SV and [(MDE] with the following frame:
(164) [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 ["NUM, $PER, (MDE]]] [C0 ["NUM, $PER, (MDE]]]] V0]
Frames like (161) and (164), which I first discussed in Binkert 1984, work like co–occurrence
checkers.61 Notice that the frame for agreement between the subject and the head of the mode
characterizer (161) is separate from the frame for agreement between the SV and the head of the
mode characterizer (164). The former is violated in (165); the latter, in (166).
(165) *He don’t like it here.
(166) *He thought she is here.
It is important for a grammar, in particular a parser, to deal with ungrammatical input. A sentence
like *He don’t like it should not simply be thrown out; it should be marked as deviant in a specific
way. In addition to the above examples, we have violations of case frames, which I will discuss in
the next chapter, like the following:
(167) *There is no difference between John and I.
To deal effectively with ungrammatical examples like the above, we cannot handle agreement by
simply copying the features from one item to another, e.g., the person/number features from the
subject to the SV. Rather, we must allow lexical items to be merged together both with and without
consideration of such matters as agreement, that is, both with an without consideration of frames like
(161) and (164). For example, if the grammar is presented with a string like they does, it can
Chapter Three 209
construct both general frames and very specific frames. A general frame takes into consideration
only the major categorial assignments, e.g., the fact that they is a type of Noun ([–VBL, +NML])
and does is a type of Verb ([+VBL, –NML]):
(168) a. they: [V3 [N3 [N0 they]] C3 V0]

b. does: [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 does]]] C0] V0]
A more specific frame takes into consideration subcategorial details, e.g., the fact that they is third
person plural ([–VBL, +NML, 2NUM, 3PER, ...]) and does is third person singular ([+VBL, –NML,
1NUM, 3PER, ...]):
(169) a. they: [V3 [N3 [N0 [2NUM, 3PER]]] [C3 [C0 [2NUM, 3PER]]] V0]
b. does: [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 [1NUM, 3PER]]] [C0 [1NUM, 3PER]] ]] V0]
Since the structures in (168) match, they can be merged together to form the following phrase:
(170) they does: [V3 [N3 [N0 they]] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 does]]] C0] V0]
On the other hand, the structures in (169) cannot be merged because the two specifications for C0
do not match. Although (170) is structurally coherent, it will be marked as deviant during a final
check of the structure which takes agreement constraints like (161) and (164) into consideration.
There are several observations which motivate the structure in (163). First, note that the V3 is
embedded in prehead position on the C0 level, the level of morphological derivation mentioned
above (see Page 166 ff.). With this representation, we relate (163) to other characterizer compounds
involving a verbal marker like the following (DA1 = derived adjective suffix –ing; DA2 = derived
adjective suffix –ed/–en):
(171) ... [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1]]] ... (cf. a charming woman)
(172) ... [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2]]] ... (cf. a charmed life)
Second, notice that the SV contains no mode characterizer of its own and, in fact, is constrained
from containing its own mode characterizer by the OAC (see (117) above). Since the V3 in (163)
forms a kind of compound with a MODE, it cannot contain another MODE on its own internal V3
level. Further, since it lacks a local MODE (a prehead V3 level mode characterizer), it also must
lack a local subject since the agreement frame (161) requires a local subject whenever there is a V3
mode characterizer.
Consider now the nature of the SV. As we noted above, it can be a modal like will or could, or a
form of the verbs be, have or do. The choice for SV is not free. Given any arbitrary sequence of
auxiliary verbs, the SV residence must be filled in accordance with the order given in (173).
210 Chapter Three
(173) a. Modal
b. have
c. be
d. emphatic do
e. [do] (a dummy verb do)
Thus, if there is a modal, it must be the SV; if there is no modal but there is a form of the verb have,
then the form of have must be the SV; and so on. To see why the SV must be filled in accordance
with (173), we must examine several aspects of the English auxiliary in detail.
3.5.2 THE DISTRIBUTION OF AUXILIARY ELEMENTS.
Consider first the fact that auxiliary elements (tense, modal, perfective, progressive, passive) do not
have the same distribution. In particular, the following split exists:
(174) Neither TENSE nor a modal can occur in infinitives (to go) and participles (going):
a. I had been there for two hours before he arrived.

*I wanted to had been there before he arrived.
b. I wanted to be able to drive.

*I wanted to can drive.
c. Being in town at the time, I was able to go to the party.

*Wasing out of town, I missed the party.
d. Being able to drive is useful.

*Canning to drive is useful.
(175) PROGRESSIVE, PERFECTIVE and PASSIVE can occur in infinitives and participles:
a. PROGRESSIVE: I want [to be working] when he arrives./[Being hunting] when

you should be working is unwise.
b. PERFECTIVE: It was fun [to have done that]./[Having done that] he left.
c. PASSIVE: He tried [to be seen]./[Being invited to such parties] is not

important.
The explanation for this distribution is rooted in the OAC (see Page 186). Infinitives and participles,
in fact, all verbal adjectives and nouns, already contain a MODE marker: the progressive participle
is marked by –ing ([PRGP]), the passive participle is marked by –ed ([PSVP]), the infinitive is
marked by to ([INF]), etc. Since the OAC prevents a word from being marked by more than one
Chapter Three 211
marker from the same category, verbal adjectives and verbal nouns cannot have a V3 level
characterizer containing their own MODE (INDICATIVE, SUBJUNCTIVE, etc.). Further, since
modals are a composite of a verb and a MODE (INDICATIVE, CONDITIONAL, etc.), modals also
cannot occur in infinitives, participles and gerunds. On the other hand, modals must be the SV when
they occur: they assign no theta–roles and have no local subject or complements.
The split between the mode characterizer and the verb phrase in (174) and (175) is confirmed by a
number of additional facts. First, note that the negative not can reside in both the mode characterizer
and the verb phrase:62
(176) a. He can’t just not go; he has to RSVP.

b. He didn’t just not have enough money; he had no charge cards either.
The two occurrences of not in such examples have distinct residences. When not resides in the
mode characterizer, it occupies the same position as the emphatics so and too. Consider the
following data and the structures provided:
(177) a. He will so go.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 [C0 so]]] [V0 go]]
b. He will too go.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 [C0 too]]] [V0 go]]
c. He will not go.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 [C0 not]]] [V0 go]]
This specialized use of not in the mode characterizer is, therefore, like an emphatic. Given our
analysis, this is not peculiar. Observe that not and the emphatics too and so are elsewhere degree
words (too many men, so much milk, not much progress, etc.; see Endnote 31).63 Thus, we include
not in the categories degree word and emphatic given in Figure Seven. When not is part of the verb
phrase, it has the following structure:
(178) [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3[C0 probably]]] [V3 [C3 not] [V0 go]]]
This use parallels the use of not as a negator (see Figure Seven) in other phrases like the following:
(179) a. Not one word was spoken.

b. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
c. Not wanting to upset her further, he left.
Thus, the uses of not all have the following features in common: [–VBL, –NML, –OPH, –OCL,
–X1L, –X2L, +X3L].
212 Chapter Three
The full range of possibilities for emphatics and the negator not in sentence internal position is as
follows, as the feature specifications in Figure Seven stipulate:
(180) a. You can’t go.

b. You can so go.
c. You can too go.
(181) a. You can’t not go.

b. You can so not go.
c. You can too not go.
(182) a. *You can’t so go.

b. *You can’t too go.
Further confirmation of the split between the mode characterizer and the verb phrase comes from
the distribution of adverbs and quantifiers:
(183) Manner adverbs (diligently, fearfully, willingly, happily, etc.) and temporal quantifiers
(often, never, always, sometimes, etc.) can occur in infinitives and participles, but sentence
adverbs (probably, apparently, evidently, surely, etc.) can’t.64
a. Students are expected to study diligently/often/*apparently.

b. Glancing over his shoulder fearfully/often/*probably, he left the room
(184) When a sentence adverb and either a manner adverb or temporal quantifier occur together
in preverbal position the former must precede the latter:
a. He will surely willingly comply with all our requests.

*He will willingly surely comply with all our requests.
b. He will probably never go.

*He will never probably go.
The feature system we have proposed allows us to capture the difference between sentence adverbs
([+X3L, –X2L]), manner adverbs ([–X3L, +X2L]), and adverbial quantifiers ([–X3L, +X2L]).
Consider the following examples:
(185) They do so – often study diligently.

[V3 [N3 they] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 do]] [C0 PRS]] [C3 so]] [V2 [N3 often] [V0 study] [C3 diligently]]
(186) He will surely – willingly comply.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 surely]] [V2 [C3 willingly] [V0 comply]]
Chapter Three 213
(187) He will probably – never go.
[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 probably]] [V2 [N3 never] [V0 go]]
(188) He does too – deliberately avoid her often.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 do]] [C0 PRS]] [C3 too]] [V2 [C3 deliberately] [V1 [V0 avoid] [N3 her]]
[N3 often]]
3.5.3 THE CONSTITUENCY OF AUXILIARY ELEMENTS.
A major problem with previous analyses of the English auxiliary involves the constituency of the
various elements. In particular, analyses often leave the following facts unexpressed:
(189) Forms in –ing and –ed/–en can occur, as participles, without an auxiliary verb (be):
a. The man lurking in the shadows is the culprit.

The man who is lurking in the shadows is the culprit.
b. The man discovered in the bushes is a flasher.

The man who was discovered in the bushes is a flasher.
(190) Forms in –ing occur even in verbs which are not found in the PROGRESSIVE ASPECT:
a. The students knowing the answer raised their hands.

*The students who were knowing the answer raised their hands.
b. Anyone weighing over two hundred pounds was told to diet.

*Anyone who was weighing over two hundred pounds was told to diet.
(191) Forms in –ed/–en can occur in passives with get rather than be:
a. He got stabbed in the back by an assailant.

He was stabbed in the back by an assailant.
b. She got invited to the party by the hostess.

She was invited to the party by the hostess.
(192) Forms in –ing and –ed/–en are ambiguous:
a. an imposing Avon lady

an Avon lady deliberately imposing on her neighbors (PARTICIPLE)
an Avon lady so imposing in size (ADJECTIVE)
214 Chapter Three
b. a broken vase
a vase accidentally broken by a child (PARTICIPLE)
a vase so broken that it can’t be fixed (ADJECTIVE)
These facts can be accommodated within the framework we have developed by noting first that
forms in –ing and –ed/–en can occur independent of any auxiliary like be or get. Second, participles
behave like characterizers, specifically phrases with an adjectival meaning. Often, they can be
paraphrased by various other adjectival phrases:
(193) a. He was at work./He was working.

b. He was on vacation in Europe./He was vacationing in Europe.
c. It was in sight./It was visible./It could be seen.
d. It was unavoidable./It could not be avoided.
e. He was under attack./He was being attacked.
f. He was under investigation./He was being investigated.
As before, if we treat be as a main verb and treat PRGP and PSVP as characterizers, we account for
the above data. Specifically, we take advantage of the fact that the system described above makes
transparent the many left–of–head/right–of–head alternations that occur in English (cf. (18) and
(19)):65
(194) a. The lady is imposing (ADJECTIVE). [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 imposing]] [C0 DA1]]]
b. The lady is imposing (PROGRESSIVE). [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 imposing]]]]
(195) a. The jars were broken (ADJECTIVE). [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 broken]] [C0 DA2]]]
b. The jars were broken (PASSIVE). [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 broken]]]]
Given the above analysis, we have examples like the following:
(196) a. He will probably never be meditating (exactly when you are).

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 probably]] [V2 never [V0 be] [C3 [C0 [C0
PRGP] [V3 [V0 meditating]]]]]]
b. He will probably be quietly meditating (when you arrive).

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 will]] [C0 FUT]] [C3 probably]] [V2 [V0 be] [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP]
[V3 [V2 [C3 quietly] [V0 meditating]]]]
3.5.4 THE PERFECTIVE.
Consider now PERFECTIVE have, which occurs in either the verb phrase or the mode characterizer.
Clearly, have must be part of the verb phrase when it occurs in infinitives and participles because,
as we have seen, a V3 mode characterizer cannot occur in verbal adjectives and verbal nouns:
Chapter Three 215
(197) a. [For him [to have done that]] is awful.
b. [Having finished his supper] he left.
To locate the residence of have inside the verb phrase, let us consider the following examples which
use sentence adverbs and emphatics as a diagnostic:
(198) a. They might perhaps not have left yet.

b. They might perhaps have not left yet.
(199) a. They may too not have left yet.

b. They may too have not left yet.
Since not is a V3 level resident when it is not part of the mode characterizer, the data in (198) and
(199) suggest that have is also a V3 level resident. This residence appears to be confirmed by the
preference for have before temporal quantifiers and manner adverbs, which are V2 level residents.
However, placing have after temporal quantifiers and manner adverbs seems marginally
grammatical. Consider the following:66
(200) a. They couldn’t have often studied diligently.

b. ??They couldn’t often have studied diligently.
(201) a. He may so have quite deliberately concealed the truth.

b. ??He may so quite deliberately have concealed the truth.
The conclusion appears to be that have, like not, resides on a recursion of V3 below the mode
characterizer preferably, but that it can reside on the V2 level also with marginal grammaticality.
The preferred structures are as follows:
(202) a. They couldn’t have often studied diligently.

[V3 they [C3 couldn’t] [V3 have [V2 often studied diligently]]]
b. He may so have deliberately concealed the truth.

[V3 he [C3 may so] [V3 have [V2 deliberately concealed the truth]]]
The vagabond nature of have in the verb phrase extends to its residence outside of the verb phrase.
To help locate the residence of have when it is inside a mode characterizer that already contains a
modal, consider the following, where too has emphatic reading:
(203) a. He may have unfortunately deliberately concealed the truth.

b. He may have too quite deliberately concealed the truth.
(204) a. He could too have unfortunately deliberately concealed the truth.

b. He could unfortunately have too concealed the truth.
216 Chapter Three
As in the verb phrase, have seems comfortable floating among X3 level elements of the mode
characterizer.
There do not appear to be very many modifiers (X2 level elements) that reside specifically within
the mode characterizer which we can use as a diagnostic for the residence of have. One possibility
is the use of the quantifier well in the following:
(205) a. He well may not go.

b. He may well not go.
Now consider the following:
(206) a. He may very well have unfortunately deliberately concealed the truth.
b. He may very well have too concealed the truth.
(207) a. He could very well have not told the truth.

b. ??He could have very well not told the truth.
Again, the preferred residence for have inside of a mode characterizer that also contains a modal is
the X3 level. Examples of these preferences are as follows:
(208) a. He may have so not concealed the truth

[V3 he [C3 [C0 may] have so] [V3 not [V1 concealed the truth]]]
b. He could unfortunately have too concealed the truth.

[V3 he [C3 [C0 could] unfortunately have too] [V1 concealed the truth]]
What is the explanation for have, which appears to be the linguistic manifestation of the uncertainty
principle? I believe it is as follows. Perfective have, when it occurs with a modal, is about as
unmarked as an English verb can be. It has no discernible affix and it carries no features for person,
number or tense. In short, it has no markers to anchor it to a position. Further, it occurs between
two verbs with very fixed anchors, the modal which is bonded to [MDE] and the perfective
participle which functions as the main verb. The structure we are dealing with is as follows
([4MDE] = CONDITIONAL):
(209) He could have gone.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 could]] [C0 [4MDE]] ]] – have – [V0 gone]]
Thus, have is a constituent in search of a residence; we will call this use of have “homeless have.”
Perfective have can never function as the main verb; that position must be occupied by the perfective
participle which the perfective aspect requires (see the examples with the floating quantifier all in
(213) below, as well as the residence of the perfective participles in all the structures in this
section).67 On the other hand, a modal is an optional element. As expected, if there is no modal
Chapter Three 217
have occupies its residence as follows:
(210) He has gone.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 has]] [C0 PRS]]] [V0 gone]]
The relationship between perfective have and a simple tense (PRS or PST) is therefore symbiotic:
the MDE/TNS needs a verb to support it, and homeless have needs a fixed residence. Thus, if a
sentence does not contain a modal to support the tense and the sentences contains a perfective, then
have is the SV. Note that do–support does not occur with perfective have:
(211) *He does have gone.
In the absence of a modal, if the only problem were to find a verb to support the MDE/TNS, then
we would expect do–support to apply. But, as the above data indicate, there is an additional
problem, namely, finding a residence for homeless have. Thus, do–support does not apply in
deference to solving both problems. Further, note that do–support need not apply because perfective
have meets one of the requirements for an SV, namely, it marks no theta–roles; it has no local
subject and no complements. Basically, since perfective have can be an SV, do can’t occur with it.
In part, this account has the same flavor as the Minimalist principle GREED (move " only for "’s
sake; Chomsky 1995 and the references cited there; Wilder and ‚avar 1994). However, there is no
movement entailed here. An inflected form of perfective have always resides in prehead position
of the mode characterizer in accordance with the feature space given in Figure Seven. The
uninflected form of perfective have occurs only with a modal and is marked with the varying
residences discussed above. Further, there is no rule of affix hopping involved; specifically, a
perfective participle, when it occurs, always resides in its participial form in main verb position.
Frames, such as those above, ensure that perfective participles co–occur with a form of perfective
have. Beyond this, the principal reason perfective have can be an SV is that it assigns no
theta–roles.
3.5.5 THE VERB be.
Returning to the matter of the support verb (SV) for tense, consider again the following hierarchy:
(212) a. Modal
b. have
c. be
d. emphatic do
Thus far, we have offered a possible explanation for the first two elements in (212): modals and
perfective have must be the SV when they occur because they assign no theta–roles and have no
local subjects or complements. Thus, they satisfy the first condition of the SVC.
218 Chapter Three
Consider now the verb be. If a sentence contains a modal, then the verb be is always in main verb
position, whether or not perfective have also occurs. In support of this claim, let us consider the
behavior of floating quantifiers in the following noting that such quantifiers can float up to the main
verb and not beyond:68
(213) a. All the men could have gone fishing.

b. The men all could have gone fishing.
c. The men could all have gone fishing.
d. The men could have all gone fishing.
e. *The men could have gone all fishing.
(214) a. All the men could have been six–feet tall.

b. The men all could have been six–feet tall.
c. The men could all have been six–feet tall.
d. The men could have all been six–feet tall.
e. *The men could have been all six–feet tall.
(215) a. All the men could have been aware of a problem.

b. The men all could have been aware of a problem.
c. The men could all have been aware of a problem.
d. The men could have all been aware of a problem.
e. *The men could have been all aware of a problem.
(216) a. All the men could have been fishing.

b. The men all could have been fishing.
c. The men could all have been fishing.
d. The men could have all been fishing.
e. *The men could have been all fishing.
(217) a. All the men could have been seen.

b. The men all could have been seen.
c. The men could all have been seen.
d. The men could have all been seen.
e. *The men could have been all seen.
(218) a. All the jars could have been all broken.

b. The jars all could have been all broken.
c. The jars could all have been all broken.
d. The jars could have all been all broken.
e. *The jars could have been all all broken.
In (214) through (218), be is the main verb. Accordingly, all floats up to be but not beyond just as
it does when other verbs like go occur in place of be.69 There are, thus, four possible syntactic
positions for floating quantifiers:
Chapter Three 219
(219) All the jars could have been broken.
[V3 [N3 [N3 all] [C3 the] [N0 jars]] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 could]] [C0 CND]]] [V3 have [V2 [V0 been] [C3
broken]]]]
(220) The jars all could have been broken.
[V3 [N3 [C3 the] [N0 jars]] [C3 [N3 all][C0 [V3 [V0 could]] [C0 CND]]] [V3 have [V2 [V0 been] [C3
broken]]]]
(221) The jars could all have been broken.
[V3 [N3 [C3 the] [N0 jars]] [C3[C0 [V3 [V0 could]] [C0 CND]] [N3 all]] [V3 have [V2 [V0 been] [C3
broken]]]]
(222) The jars could have all been broken.
[V3 [N3 [C3 the] [N0 jars]] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 could]] [C0 CND]]] [V3 have [N3 all] [V2 [V0 been] [C3
broken]]]]
When a sentence contains neither a modal nor perfective have, be must reside in the mode
characterizer in the same position occupied by modals and have, that is, be is the SV. Consider the
following:
(223) a. John probably is meditating.

b. John is probably meditating.
In (223b), the verb is must be in the mode characterizer; there is no other way for it to appear to the
left of a sentence adverb probably. Since sentences must have a main verb, suppose we say that is
in (223) is in the mode characterizer bound to an [e] in main verb position. That is, suppose we
account for the distribution of probably with the following structures:
(224) a. John probably is meditating.

[V3 John [C3 [C3 probably] [C0 isi [C0 PRS]]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 meditating]]]
b. John is probably meditating.

[V3 John [C3 [C0 isi [C0 PRS]] [C3 probably]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 meditating]]]
In short, be must reside in the mode characterizer if it possibly can. This occurs whenever be is
inflected (am, is, are, was, were), precisely because the sentence contains no modal or perfective
have to act as SV. Note that (224b) would be impossible if be could not reside in the mode
characterizer. Thus, in addition to serving as SV, be occupies this residence for the sake of
probably. We see a similar presence of be in the mode characterizer when a sentence contains an
emphatic or a negative:
220 Chapter Three
(225) a. *John so is meditating.
b. John is so meditating.
[V3 John [C3 [C0 isi [C0 PRS]] [C3 so]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 meditating]]]
(226) a. *John too is meditating. (too =/ also)
b. John is too meditating.

[V3 John [C3 [C0 isi [C0 PRS]] [C3 too]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 meditating]]]
(227) a. *John not is meditating.
b. John is not meditating.

[V3 John [C3 [C0 isi [C0 PRS]] [C3 not]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 meditating]]]
Additionally, the verb be, when it is the SV and only then, is morphologically heavy: it is the only
verb in English that is marked contrastively for person, number, and tense. It is this distinctive
property that allows it to reside in SV position. No other main verb can. Generally, an SV must
assign no theta–roles. This is essential, since the SV is not in a position where it governs any subject
or complements. The verb be does assign theta–roles; however, the forms of be that reside in SV
position are bound to an [e] which, in fact, is in a position to have both a subject and a complement.
When a sentence contains no modal or perfective have, the inflected forms of be can “escape” from
main verb position because they are morphologically heavy. Thus, be satisfies the second condition
of the SVC. However, be also satisfies the first condition of the SVC since it alone can occur in SV
position; complements of be cannot occur with be in SV position:70
(228) a. He is so/not a good teacher.

b. *He is a good teacher so/not.
In part, the above account has the flavor of ALTRUISM (cf. Wilder and ‚avar 1994; move " for $’s
sake) except that, as before, no movement is entailed here. An inflected form of be always resides
in prehead position of the mode characterizer in accordance with the feature space given in Figure
Seven. When be does not show person/number distinctions, it resides in main verb position; this
occurs just in case the sentence contains a modal and/or a perfective.
The distributional constraints on inflected forms of have and be are, therefore, not identical. In
particular, perfective have is never a main verb and be always is. The position taken here is that the
have/be raising rule (Jackendoff 1972, Emonds 1976) which moves have and be into AUX is not a
legitimate rule since it treats have and be alike. The inflected forms of have and be must reside in
the mode characterizer if that residence would otherwise be unfilled. Beyond that, the two verbs
have very different properties. When have is the SV it is not bound to an [e]; when be is the SV, it
is always bound to an [e] in main verb position. In addition, perfective have can be in the mode
characterizer along with a modal but be cannot. The following data involving gapping further
support these differences between the two verbs (note that homeless have, and not be, can be in the
Chapter Three 221
mode characterizer when it also contains a modal71):
(229) a. John could have been fishing, and so could have Bill (been fishing).
John could have been fishing, and so could Bill have (been fishing).
b. John could have been injured, and so could have Bill (been injured).
John could have been injured, and so could Bill have (been injured).
c. John could have been being stalked, and so could have Bill (been being stalked).
John could have been being stalked, and so could Bill have (been being stalked).
(230) a. *John could be fishing, and so could be Bill (fishing).

John could be fishing, and so could Bill be (fishing).
b. *John could be injured, and so could be Bill (injured).

John could be injured, and so could Bill be (injured).
c. *John could be being stalked, and so could be Bill (being stalked).

John could be being stalked, and so could Bill be (being stalked).
Consider now the following sentences which appear to present a problem for our analysis:
(231) a. The jars were all broken. (ambiguous)

b. The jars were all all broken.
In (231), it appears as though the quantifier all has floated beyond the main verb. However, that
would be the case only if were were in main verb position. As above, suppose we say that were in
(231) is in the mode characterizer bound to an [e] in main verb position. That is, suppose we
account for the ambiguity and distribution of all with the following structures:
(232) The jars were all broken. [= All of the jars were broken.]
[V3 [N3 the jars] [C3 [C0 werei [C0 PST]] [N3 all]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 broken]]]
(233) The jars were all broken. [= The jars were totally broken.]
[V3 [N3 the jars] [C3 [C0 werei [C0 PST]]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 [N3 all] broken]]]
(234) The jars were all all broken. [= All of the jars were totally broken.]
[V3 [N3 the jars] [C3 [C0 werei [C0 PST]][N3 all]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 [N3 all] broken]]]
Given these structures, the examples in (231) are not a problem. Other examples also fall into place
such as the contrast between There is probably a problem and *There could have been probably a
problem; in the former, we have a structure paralleling (224b); in the latter, there is no possible
position for probably between been, which must be in main verb position, and the complement.
222 Chapter Three
3.5.6 THE VERB do.
Consider now the following sentences, which have often been derived by a rule that inserts do to
support the TNS/MDE (the do–support transformation):
(235) a. John does meditate.

b. John did meditate.
(236) a. John does not/so/too meditate.

b. John did not/so/too meditate.
The representations for sentences like (235) and (236), in the current framework, are as follows (cf.
(163)):
(237) a. [V3 John [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 does ]] [C0 PRS]] ([C3 [C0 not/so/too]]) ] meditate]
b. [V3 John [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 did ]] [C0 PST]] ([C3 [C0 not/so/too]]) ] meditate]
It seems to me that the representations in (237) must be considered “base generated,” that is, they
are not the result of a transformation which inserts do to avoid stranding the MDE/TNS. Quite
simply, the reason is that the forms of do in (237) mean something. They are not empty morphemes:
notice, for example, that the forms of do in (237) express an emphatic assertion or denial. Therefore,
let us call this use of do “emphatic do.”
It is tempting to consider emphatic do a modal because it cannot occur in participles, infinitives, etc.:
(238) a. *Doing singing all night, he became hoarse.

b. *Of course he really wants to do sing.
Further, emphatic do cannot occur with modals:
(239) a. *He does will sing.

b. *They really do can sing.
However, modals can occur with have and be, whereas emphatic do cannot:
(240) a. John could/*does (not/so/too/probably) have meditated.

b. John could/*does (not/so/too/probably) be meditating.
The explanation for (240) seems to be more a matter of semantics than syntax. In many instances,
emphatic do appears to require the presence of contexts which allow for emphasis. Notice that we
cannot simply mark all occurrences of do with have or be ungrammatical. Consider the following:
Chapter Three 223
(241) a. Do be careful.
b. Don’t be such a jerk.
c. Please don’t be upset by what I am about to tell you.
d. *Do be six feet tall.
e. *Don’t be a mammal.
There are, apparently, some English dialects which extend these contexts to include all uses of be.
According to Wilder and ‚avar (1994: 84), the following sentences are attested in Irish English
dialects:
(242) a. John does be singing.

b. John does be a teacher.
Further, Pollock (1989: 372) claims that the following sentences are acceptable, though I personally
find them rather strange:
(243) a. Don’t (you) have finished your work when I come back!
b. Don’t (you) be singing when I come back.
It may be necessary to distinguish copular be from progressive and passive be, the way one must
distinguish the main verb have from perfective have. Yet, the following examples indicate that the
facts are far from clear:
(244) a. Don’t be so noisy.

b. Don’t be drinking wine when he calls. (example from Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 134)
c. ?Don’t be smoking in this house.
d. Don’t be photographed/seen with her.
e. ?Don’t be arrested in that town. (cf. Don’t get arrested in that town.)
(245) a. Don’t have your father committed.

b. Don’t have such a fit./Don’t have that operation.
c. ?Don’t have such a car./?Don’t have that medication.
d. ?Don’t have ever smoked in this house even once.
The variability in such forms suggests that the occurrence of do with various forms of be and have
involves issues that go beyond simple syntax. Thus, I will leave the matter unresolved.
Consider finally sentences with simple tenses like the following:
(246) a. John meditates.

b. John meditated.
These sentences appear to have no verb at all in their mode characterizers. Of all the examples we
have investigated during this discussion of the English auxiliary, this is the first time that the mode
224 Chapter Three
characterizer appears to be null. In fact, in all other cases that I know of, the mode characterizer
must contain an SV. Following Pollock (1989) and Wilder and ‚avar (1994), suppose we say that
such sentences contain a dummy verb do, that is, forms of the verb do with tense, person, and
number features that are the same as the real verb do except that they have no phonological content.
Under this proposal, we have the following representations, where the bracketed forms of do, in
italics, are the dummy verb do:
(247) a. [V3 John [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 does ]] [C0 PRS]]] meditates]
b. [V3 John [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 did ]] [C0 PST]]] meditated]
Note that (247) parallels (237). Given (247), we need only assume that rules in the phonological
component will obligatorily convert (247) into (246) by simply deleting the dummy do.
3.5.7 RESOLUTION.
Given the analysis of the English auxiliary we have proposed, all finite clauses have the same
representation (163) repeated here as (248); further, all clauses contain an SV filled in accordance
with the hierarchy (173) repeated here as (249) under the constraints of the SVC.
(248) [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 SV ]] [C0 (MDE]]] V0]
(249) a. Modal
b. have
c. be
d. emphatic do
Note that the list of verbs in (249) is not a list of items that move into the mode characterizer from
somewhere else. Each verb in (249) is “base generated” in the SV residence specified in (248) in
accordance with its syntactic feature matrix. Whether one is encoding sentences at random or
decoding arbitrary input, (248) forms the basis for the operation. Other specifications are of course
needed, such as where have can reside outside of SV position, when be must be bound to an [e], and
so on. But the crux of the English auxiliary is the structure in (248).
The position taken here is that it is incorrect to treat all the components of the auxiliary in like
fashion using either the classical affix hopping analysis (Chomsky 1955) or a Minimalist approach
involving Verb Movement (Chomsky 1995). In particular, be must always be the syntactic main
verb of any sentence in which it occurs. The affixes associated with the progressive and the passive
are, like the use of to in the infinitive, prepositional in nature. Perfective have is not associated with
an affix that “hops” to the following verb; rather, it is associated directly with the perfective
participle. Lastly, every sentence must contain a verb in the mode characterizer to act as SV. The
order in which the SV slot must be filled is as follows: modal, inflected forms of have, inflected
forms of be, inflected forms of do, and inflected forms of dummy–do.
Chapter Three 225
Given the above analysis, the abstract representation of the English auxiliary contains all lexical
items in the same position as the corresponding phonetic representations. There is no movement of
any elements including affixes. All items, including the SV, emphatics, sentence adverbs, manner
adverbs, temporal quantifiers, and so on occupy residences specified by their syntactic feature
matrices in Figure Seven.
Perhaps the most crucial innovation in the above analysis is our characterization of the SV. It must
be a [–OCL] verb, that is, a verb that is not an open class verb. English does not tolerate a [+OCL]
verb within the mode characterizer. Note that [+OCL] verbs are high content verbs with widely
varying theta–marking properties. The number of verbs which can function as an SV is in fact very
small: can, could, will, would, shall, should, may, might, must, have, has, had, am, is, are, was,
were, do, does, did, [do], [does], and [did]. These are the so–called helping verbs of traditional
grammar. They function to indicate mood, tense, aspect, emphasis and the like. The semantic effect
of such verbs is to color the meaning of a sentence. Further, except for the verb be, they lack
theta–marking properties. The meaning contributed to a sentence by a verb like fish or meditate is
far different in character from the meaning contributed by a helping verb. Lastly, every SV must
have one of the characteristics specified in the SVC.
In summary, the complete English auxiliary has the following structure when have is part of the
mode characterizer:
(250) The jars could have been being broken.
[V3 [N3 the jars] [C3 [C0 could [C0 CND]] have ] [V2 [V0 been] [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V2 [V0 being]
[C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 broken]]]] ]]]] ]]
In the LTP, the structure produced for the above example contains an abstract empty noun phrase
([e]) inserted into the object slot of the verb break as follows:
226 Chapter Three
(251)
The clause "the jars could have been being broken" is a statement.
The phrase "being broken" is a predicate adjective phrase referring back to the subject phrase "the jars".
The phrase "the jars" is a noun phrase and the subject of the verb "been".
The phrase “[e]" is a noun phrase and the abstract empty direct object of the passive verb "broken"
The word "been" is a perfective participle.
The word "been" is the main verb of "the jars could have been being broken".
The word "being" is a progressive participle (verbal adjective).
The word "broken" is a passive participle (verbal adjective).
The word "could" is a modal auxiliary modifying the meaning of the verb "been".
The word "have" is the bare perfective auxiliary verb.
The word "jars" is a plural common noun.
The word "PRGP" is the abstract marker ([-ing]) of the progressive participle "being".
The word "PSVP" is the abstract marker ([-en]) of the passive participle "broken".
The word "the" is a determiner specifying the noun "jars".
V3
|-------------------|-------------------|
| | |
N3 C3 V2
|---------| |---------| |---------|
| | | | | |
C3 N0 C0 V3 V0 C3
| NOUN |---------| | VERB |
| jars | | | been |
C0 V3 C0 V0 C0
DET | MPT AUX |---------|
the | have | |
V0 C0 V3
MODAL PRGP |
could |
V2
|---------|
| |
V0 C3
VERB |
being |
C0
|---------|
| |
C0 V3
PSVP |
|
V1
|---------|
| |
V0 N3
VERB |
broken |
N0
[e]
The analysis of the English auxiliary that we have proposed deals with a wider range of data than
any available within recent Minimalist proposals. In particular, in addition to examining all
elements of the auxiliary, we have accounted for the varying positions of sentence adverbs, manner
adverbs, temporal quantifiers, emphatics, the negator not, and floating quantifiers. All of this has
been achieved without any movement rules including affix hopping. Further, and from our point
of view most important, the abstract representations contain all lexical items in exactly the same
order that they appear in phonetic form.
Chapter Three 227
3.6 ADVERBS IN FRENCH AND ITALIAN.
As a final topic in this section, let us consider the apparent C–command violations in the position
of manner adverbs and temporal quantifiers in French and Italian.72 Basically, the problem is that
these languages permit manner adverb and temporal quantifiers to occur between a verb and its
direct object, an apparent violation of the C–command relation that exists between modifiers and
complements as stated above. Consider the following examples:73
(252) a. Jean embrasse Marie souvent.

b. Giovanni bacia Maria spesso.
c. John kisses Mary often.
(253) a. Jean embrasse Marie passionnément.

b. Giovanni bacia Maria appassionatamente.
c. John kisses Mary passionately.
(254) a. Jean embrasse souvent Marie.

b. Giovanni bacia spesso Maria.
c. *John kisses often Mary.
(255) a. Jean embrasse passionnément Marie.

b. Giovanni bacia appassionatamente Maria.
c. *John kisses passionately Mary.
Examples (252), (253), (254c) and (255c) do not present any problems. They follow the
C–command relation we have articulated, namely, modifiers must C–command complements. The
question is, How to analyze (254a), (254b), (255a) and (255b). Basically, we have two options
given the structures we have proposed.
First, following William’s analysis of French (1994: 174 ff.), we might say that the modifiers in
(254a), (254b), (255a) and (255b) reside in an “intraposed” position as follows, where the modifier
is bound to an [e] on the V2 level:
(256) [V2 [V1 [V0 [V0 verb] [X3 modifier]i ] [N3 complement] ] [e]i ]
An intraposition analysis, with or without an associated [e], is certainly justifiable for some English
sentences. Consider the following:
(257) a. John pushed the door open.

[V3 [N3 John] [C3 PST] [V1 [V0 push] [N3 the door]] [C3 open]]
b. John pushed open the door.
[V3 [N3 John] [C3 PST] [V1[V0 [V0 push] [C3 open]] [N3 the door]]
228 Chapter Three
(258) a. John took the trash out.
[V3 [N3 John] [C3 PST] [V1 [V0 take] [N3 the trash]] [C3 out]]
b. John took out the trash.
[V3 [N3 John] [C3 PST] [V1[V0 [V0 take] [C3 out]] [N3 the trash]]
Notice that it is not necessary to assume a movement analysis in the above, that is, we do not have
to say that characterizers open and out are generated in one position from which they are moved by
transformation to the other. On the other hand, there is reason to assume that English resultative
expressions and particles have the “base home” in (257a) and (258a), respectively.
First, such an account accords with the C–command violations we have suggested. But there is
independent motivation as well. Notice that the positions in (257a) and (258a) are the most
unconstrained. If the direct object is a pronoun or the following characterizer phrase contains a
modifier, then the structural alternatives in (257a) and (258a) are the only ones possible:
(259) a. John pushed it open./John took it out.

b. *John pushed open it./*John took out it.
(260) a. John pushed the door right open./John took the trash right out.
b. *John pushed right open the door./*John took right out the trash.
Further, the “intraposition” of a C3 is only obligatory when the direct object is heavy:
(261) a. John heroically pushed open the door that was nailed shut from the inside by a
maniac on the run from the police for having committed some terrible crimes.
b. *John heroically pushed the door that was nailed shut from the inside by a maniac
on the run from the police for having committed some terrible crimes open.
(262) a. John has finally taken out the trash which had accumulated during his illness and had
become a health hazard for all of the people living with him.
b. *John has finally taken the trash which had accumulated during his illness and had
become a health hazard for all of the people living with him out.
Despite the availability of an intraposition analysis, the data suggest that we not use it to analyze the
apparent C–command violations under discussion for two reasons.
First, while English push open and take out seem like composite predicates, the French and Italian
examples above do not. Indeed, there may be a universal that prevents manner adverbs and temporal
quantifiers from forming composite predicates with a verb.
Second, while English does not tolerate multi–word phrases in intraposition (260), French and
Italian do. Consider the following:
Chapter Three 229
(263) a. Jean embrasse très passionnément Marie.
b. Giovanni bacia molto appassionatamente Maria.
As an alternative to an intraposition analysis, suppose we say that French and Italian follow the
second condition of the SVC and place their main verbs in the mode characterizers bound to an [e]
in the manner proposed above for inflected forms English be. Note that main verbs in both French
and Italian are morphologically heavy (inflected for PERSON, NUMBER, and TENSE).
(264) [V3 subject [C3 [C0 verbi [C0 MDE]]] [V2 [X3 modifier] [V1 [V0 [e]i] [N3 complement]]]]
Given (264), we conclude that the French and Italian examples do not violate the universal
C–command relations we have proposed.74 Apparent counterexamples parallel previously discussed
examples like the following, where it only seems that the C–command relations have been violated.
(265) a. John is not/so/too/probably meditating.

b. The jars were (all) all broken.
We can extend the above analysis to account for the position of negatives and quantifiers in French
(see Pollock 1989). Consider the following.
(266) a. Jean n’aime pas Marie.

John likes not Mary
‘John doesn’t like Mary.’
b. [V3 [N3 Jean] [C3 ne [C0 aimei [C0 PRS]] [C3 pas]] [V1 [V0 [e]i] [N3 Marie]]]
As before, we do not need to assume any movement of the verb in the above structure. Similarly,
we can account for the position of tous ‘all’ to the right of the verb:
(267) a. Mes amis aiment tous Marie.

my friends like all Mary
‘My friends all like Mary.’
b. [V3 [N3 mes amis] [C3 [C0 aimenti [C0 PRS]] [N3 tous]] [V1 [V0 [e]i] [N3 Marie]]]
The structures in (266) and (267) are parallel to those proposed above for the following (cf. (225b),
and (232)):
(268) a. John is not meditating.

[V3 John [C3 [C0 isi [C0 PRS]] [C3 not]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 meditating]]]
b. The jars were all broken. [= All of the jars were broken.]
[V3 [N3 the jars] [C3 [C0 werei [C0 PST]] [N3 all]] [V2 [V0 [e]i] [C3 broken]]]
Thus, we arrive at the same conclusion as Chomsky (1995:195): “French–type and English–type
languages now look alike...” Only we have achieved the same result as Chomsky without moving
anything anywhere.
230 Chapter Three
3.7 CONDITIONS ON REPRESENTATIONS.
Since empty categories have been and will be a major focus of our investigation of syntax and
semantics, it is appropriate before proceeding to summarize some of the structures we have already
discussed and to outline an inventory of the kinds of structures we will be considering in later
chapters.
Our description of syntax thus far has confirmed that there are basically two empty morphosyntactic
categories: [u], which is unbound, and [e], which is bound (the symbol Ø is used for expository
purposes only, that is Ø = [u], an unbound empty category, specifically, a null determiner or
complementizer). The difference in binding between [u] and [e] is responsible for the fundamental
difference between them, namely, that the position occupied by [u] can be filled with a lexical item
without otherwise altering the form of the sentence in which it occurs, whereas the position occupied
by [e] cannot contain an overt phrase because it is already filled by its “displaced” referent.
Consider the following:75
(269) a. John will visit us.

b. John will visit [u].
c. *John will visit [e].
(270) a. *Who will John visit us? (cf. Will John visit us?)
b. *Who will John visit [u]? (cf. Will John visit [u]?)
c. Whoi will John visit [e]i?
A major insight of TG has been to show that, in a structure like (270c), who is associated with the
empty position [e] so that the position cannot be filled without altering the form of the sentence,
specifically, without deleting the who. As a result, any structure like (270a) or (270b) will be
ungrammatical since either one position would have to be associated with two distinct phrases or
WH–phrases would not need to be bound. Of course, we have been arguing that movement rules
are not necessary to capture that insight and will continue to do so. Still, it is important to keep in
mind that the above data derive from the fact that [u] is unbound and [e] is bound.76
Notice also that there is a fundamental difference between the [e] in (270c), which is an instance of
WH–Movement in movement theories (Chomsky 1981, 1995), and examples like the following:
(271) a. Johni was visited [e]i.

b. Johni is easy to please [e]i..
Whether or not movement is assumed, the referent for [e] in the WH–Movement examples is not in
a position that receives case; rather, the case of a WH–pronoun is determined by the position of [e].
On the other hand, the referent for [e] in both examples in (271) is in a position that receives case
(SUBJECT position receives nominative case). The problem is the position of [e] itself in (271).
In recent movement analyses, the [e] in passive examples like (271a) is not in a position that
receives case (passive participles are not case assigners; Jaeggli 1986).77
Chapter Three 231
Conversely, the [e] in (271b) must be in a position that receives case (cf. It is easy to please
John/him). There is, therefore, a conflict in the two examples in (271). In our analysis of both
(271a) and (271b), there is no conflict: the referent for [e] and the [e] itself are both in positions that
receive case. Specifically, the referent in SUBJECT position will receive nominative case, and [e]
in PCOMP position will receive accusative case (cf. (251)). Importantly, whether or not one
assumes a movement analysis, [e] and its referent do not have identical morphosyntactic feature
matrices; rather, they have identical morphosyntactic feature matrices with the exception of those
features determined by “surface” position, that is, case features. That fact is incorporated into the
Empty Category Condition given directly below in (278).
Given the discussion thus far, the inversion that occurs in English questions like (272a) can be
represented structurally as (272b).
(272) a. Couldi they [e]i have gone?

b. [V3 [C3 could]i [V3 [N3 they] [e]i [V3 have [V0 gone]]]]]
Notice that (272b) contains a recursion of V3. In Chapter Eight, I will present evidence for formally
distinguishing these two X3 levels in both sentences (V3) and noun phrases (N3) as follows (see
Page 536):78
(273) Immediate Neighborhood.
a. The immediate neighborhood is a functional unit of syntax consisting minimally of

an X3 that most immediately dominates both of the following two elements:
1. A V0 or N0 head (= ["NML, –"VBL]).

2. A MODE or DETERMINER or POSSESSIVE.
b. Phrases are in the same immediate neighborhood when they are most immediately
C–commanded by the same MODE or DETERMINER or POSSESSIVE that is in
an immediate neighborhood.
(274) Extended Neighborhood.
The extended neighborhood includes all items immediately dominated by an X3 which

immediately dominates the immediate neighborhood.
Evidence for the structure (272b), which contains the overt mode characterizer in the extended
neighborhood bound to an [e] in the immediate neighborhood, derives from the fact that contraction
of they and have is blocked by the intervening [e]: *Could they’ve gone.
A question like (275a) has the structure (275b), where both the WH–phrase and the overt mode
characterizer are in the extended neighborhood.
232 Chapter Three
(275) a. What i couldj they [e]j have bought [e]i? (cf. *What could they’ve bought?)
b. [V3 [N3 what]i [C3 could]j [V3 [N3 they] [e]j [V3 have [V1 [V0 bought] [e]i]]]]]
A similar analysis can be proposed for topicalized or focused constituents, which will be discussed
in detail in Chapter Six:
(276) a. John must read this book.

[V3 [N3 John] [C3 must] [V1 [V0 read] [N3 this book]]]
b. This book, John must read.

[V3 [N3 this book]i [V3 [N3 John] [C3 must] [V1 [V0 read] [e]i]]]
We need not assume that any movement occurs in the formation of (272b), (275b), or (276b); rather,
as before, the structures can be built up from lexical specifications.
Assuming that empty categories are freely inserted into structures as the structures are built up, we
need conditions to specify the possible residences for empty categories. Four such conditions
together with relevant example are (277), (278), (279), and (280).79
(277) EXTENDED NEIGHBORHOOD CONDITION (ENC).
A WH–phrase or focused phrase residing in the extended neighborhood must be bound to

an [e] it C–commands.
a. *Whoi doj they [e]j admire [Bill]i?

b. *Who doj they [e]j admire [u]?
c. *Johni, you just have to admire [Bill]i.
d. *John, you just have to admire [u].
Note that the following are acceptable, where John is the addressee:
e. John, you just have to admire Bill.

f. John, you just have to visit [u].
(278) EMPTY CATEGORY CONDITION (ECC).
An empty morphosyntactic category can only reside in a licensed position. The licensing
of empty categories depends on specific structures and principles such as the following:
a. [X3 u] (or more simply, [u]) is an unbound empty category licensed only in positions
that can be filled by overt phrases of the same category X without otherwise altering
the sentence in which it occurs.
Chapter Three 233
[1] [C3 u] (abbreviated as Ø for expository purposes) is licensed in a position that
can be filled by an overt determiner or complementizer, namely, [X3 Ø...X0 ],
where X = ["VBL, –"NML], that is N or V.
[a] John told us Ø/those stories.

[b] John told us Ø/that Bill went.
[2] [N3 u] is licensed as an understood direct object if a verb’s subcategorization

stipulates it.
[a] Let’s eat [u]/dinner.

[b] They are hiring [u]/people.
[c] She shrugged [u]/her shoulders.
[d] John is eager to please [u]/everyone.
[3] [N3 u] is licensed as the understood SUBJECT of an imperative.
[a] [u]/you take care of yourself.

[b] [u]/you take care of yourselves.
[4] [N3 u] is licensed as the empty subject in highly inflected languages.
[a] Io vengo.
[u] vengo.
‘I come.’
[b] Pedro llega.
‘Pedro arrives.’
[u] llega.
‘he/she arrives.’
[5] [N3 u] is licensed as the head of an N3 provided it is preceded and/or followed

by some X3 or X2 level resident in that N3.
[a] Look at that [u]/thing.

[b] Look at those [u]/things.
[c] Give me some [u]/chips.
[d] He has more [u]/things than everyone else.
[e] Where is John’s [u]/stuff?
[f] Bill read these (three) [u]/books.
[g] I’ll take two [u]/hot dogs.
[h] The rich [u]/people get richer.
[i] Youth is wasted on the young [u]/people.
[j] She is the best [u]/student in the class.
[k] I like those [u]/things that John has.
234 Chapter Three
[6] [N3 u] is licensed in partitive constructions (a variation of [5]).
[a] Some [u]/bottles of that wine spoiled.

[b] Six [u]/groups of the students picketed.
[c] Which [u]/one of the students did you see?
[7] [V3 u] is licensed in sentences with adverbial subordinate clauses if the V3

containing [u] does not both precede and C–command its referent.
[a] John will go, if/when you ask him to [u]/go.

[b] *John will *[u]/go, if/when you ask him to go.
[c] If/when you ask him to [u]/go, John will go.
[d] If/when you ask him to go, John will [u]/go.
[8] [V3 u] is licensed in comparative clauses.
[a] John works harder than Bill [u]/works.

[b] John attends more meetings than Bill [u]/attends.
[c] John is as sad as Bill is [u]/happy.
b. [e] is a bound empty category licensed only in base positions (Page 86), that is,
MAIN VERB, AUX, SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP, or MOD, the basic elements of
simple declarative sentences. The position occupied by [e] cannot be filled by an
overt phrase without otherwise altering the sentence in which it occurs. The
morphosyntactic features of [e] are identical to those of its referent in all regards
except features determined by position, e.g. case features.
[1] The referent for [e] is in the immediate neighborhood.
[a] The referent for [e] is an N3 in SUBJECT or PCOMP position.
1. Hei is admired [e]i. (cf. People admired him.)

2. Hei is easy to please [e]i. (cf. It is easy to please him.)
3. Into the room, [e]i ran a childi.
4. We have Johni to thank [e]i.
[b] The referent for [e] is a morphologically heavy verb in SV position

(V–to–I Movement in an MA).
1. They arei all [e]i going.

2. They arei so [e]i going.
Chapter Three 235
3. Jean embrassei souvent [e]i Marie. ‘John kisses Mary often.’
4. Giovanni baciai spesso [e]i Maria. ‘John kisses Mary often.’
5. Jean n’aimei pas [e]i Marie. ‘John doesn’t like Mary.’

6. Mes amis aimenti tous [e]i Marie. ‘My friends all like Mary.’
[2] The referent for [e] is in the extended neighborhood.
[a] The referent for [e] is a WH–phrase or focused phrase.
1. Whoi should John meet [e]i?

2. I know whoi John met [e]i.
3. I saw the mani whoi John met [e]i.
4. This mani, John really must meet [e]i.
5. Happyi, John will never be [e]i.
[b] The referent for [e] is the mode characterizer (I–to–C Movement in an
MA).
1. Couldi they [e]i have gone?

2. Whati couldj they [e]j have bought [e]i?
(279) DISTINCT REFERENCE CONDITION (DRC).
No N3–[e] chain can fulfill more than one grammatical function for the same verb; rather,
when the complement of a predicate refers to the same entity as the subject, English
demands a reflexive pronoun ([u] = [unbound]):
a. Theyi are hiring *[e]i/[u]/themselves.

b. We tried to keep themi from hiring *[e]i/[u]/Bill/themselves.
(280) CONTRACTION BLOCK CONDITION (CBC).
Contraction is not possible over an empty category.
a. Couldi we [e]i have gone there? > *Could we’ve gone there?
(cf. We’ve gone there.)
b. Hei was dared [e]i to challenge her. > *He was [dærDc] challenge her.
(cf. Did he [dærDc] challenge her?)
c. They eat [u] to live. > *They [iDc] live.

d. Sue will nod [u] to express approval. > *Sue will [naDc] express approval.
236 Chapter Three
Chapter Three 237
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER THREE
1. One can replace minus and plus as feature values with integers alone as follows:
(i) 0 = –
1 = + with the value 1
For example, we might represent a feature like GENDER as follows:
(ii) [0GENDER] = unmarked (unspecified) for GENDER

[1GENDER] = marked for GENDER specifically MASCULINE
[2GENDER] = marked for GENDER, specifically FEMININE
[3GENDER] = marked for GENDER, specifically NEUTER
The notation in this book conforms to the following equivalences, where “F” is a feature name:
(iii) [–F] = [0F]

[+F] = [nF] where n $ 1
2. The description of features here has much in common with the description in Generalized Phrase
Structure Grammar (GPSG, Gazdar et al. 1985). One trivial difference is the order of elements in
the pair: here the value precedes the name; in GPSG, the name precedes the value. A further
difference involves the treatment of features like CASE: here the feature value for CASE like the
feature values for all features is an atomic symbol (–, +, 0, 1, 2, 3, etc.); in GPSG, the feature value
for CASE is a category (NOMINATIVE, ACCUSATIVE, etc.). It is not clear to me why individual
cases in GSPG are considered categories whereas, for example, individual persons are represented
as atomic symbols. In a notation like <PER, 3> or [3PER], the element “3” does not refer to the
number three itself but to the designation third person. Similarly, <CASE, 1> or [1CAS] might be
used for the nominative case in GPSG as it is here.
3. The variability is considerable. For example, in Bambara, the past is expressed by an auxiliary
(ye) with transitive verbs but by a suffix (–la) with intransitive verbs (examples from Schachter
1985: 10–11):
(i) a. U ye a san
they PAST it buy
‘They bought it’
238 Chapter Three
b. U boli–la
they walk–PAST
‘They walked’
In Tongan, the function word §oku denotes present tense, while na§e denotes past tense (examples
from Finegan 1994: 175):
(ii) a. §oku §alu e fine§eiki ki kolo

PRES go the lady to town
‘The lady is going to town.’
b. Na§e §alu e fine§eiki ki kolo

PAST go the lady to town
‘The lady was going to town.’
In some languages, plurality, as opposed to singularity, is indicated by separate particles. For

example, in Quiché, inanimate nouns “may be preceded by the particle taq that indicates plurality”
(Croft 1990:216). In other languages, plurality is indicated by a reduplication of the stem (Frawley
1992: 85). In Latin, plurality is indicated by a suffix which also marks the case of a noun, that is,
plurality and case cannot be separated into distinct affixes. In English, plurality alone is generally
indicate by a suffix (boy/boys); however, sometimes overt plurality is indicated by the determiner
or quantifier system: this/every deer, those/many deer.
Other distinctions are also coded in various ways in different languages. For example, in English,
definiteness is mainly indicated by the determiner system (a/the/this/that), whereas in other
languages it may be signaled by word order variations (Newari and Mandarin) or affixes (Hawaiian
Creole) as discussed in Givón (1984, Section 11.4).
4. The term MODE, as used here, embraces the traditional moods (indicative, subjunctive, etc.) as
well as specialized forms like participles, gerunds, and infinitives, and forms that occur with modal
auxiliaries, e.g., must go, should go, etc. Classical and traditional grammarians generally consider
the indicative, subjunctive, optative and imperative as moods; many also classify the infinitive and
participle as a mood (Allen and Greenough 1931; Smyth 1956; Lightfoot 1975). Participles and
gerundives are generally classified as verbal adjectives, while the gerund and supine are classified
as verbal nouns.
The basis for including all these forms in the same feature group in this book is their mutual
exclusivity: any particular form is one or the other, that is, there is no such thing as an imperative
participle, an indicative gerund, a subjunctive infinitive, etc. On the other hand, in various
languages, we do find perfective infinitives, passive participles, present subjunctives, etc., that is,
MODE does combine with various realizations of TENSE, VOICE, and ASPECT. In English, a
complex verbal sequence like was invited is analyzed here as having two modes: the was is
INDICATIVE and the invited is PARTICIPIAL. Thus, each form that is [+VBL] must be marked
for some MODE.
Chapter Three 239
Despite my inclusion of all these forms under the general rubric of MODE, I will make a distinction
in later sections and chapters between those forms that function as verbal adjectives, i.e., participles,
and those forms that functions as verbal nouns, i.e., gerunds. For discussion of the complex issues
involved in the use of the terms mood, mode and modality see Palmer 1986: Chapter One; see also
Bybee and Fleischman 1995.
5. The feature CASE will be broadened in later chapters to include other cases like dative, ablative,
instrumental, and so on. I will postpone discussion of a number of details regarding features like
ASPECT and MODE until Chapter Five, Section 5.10; see also Appendix C, Page 623 ff. Such
details include the fact that the present tense in English may have a habitual reading (He works in
a factory) or a punctual reading (I need five dollars) and that modal verbs express a variety of
distinctions like the following:
(i) POSSIBILITY: may, might, can, could

(ii) NECESSITY: must
(iii) ABILITY: can, could
(iv) PERMISSION: can, could, may, might
(v) OBLIGATION: must, should
6. Hudson (1990: Section 8.2, Page 172 ff.) makes a similar distinction between an inherent
classification of words (our [VBL, NML]) and feature distinctions that are added to these (our
[NUM], [PER], [TNS], etc.).
7. One indication that there is an understood noun in examples like (9) is that contraction with the
infinitive marker to is prevented after the so–called demonstrative pronouns, whereas it occurs freely
with personal pronouns. Consider the following:
(i) a. Do you believe it to be a good idea?

b. Do you believe [wDcbi] a good idea?
(ii) a. Do you believe that [u] to be a good idea?

b. *Do you believe [ðæDcbi] a good idea?
(iii) a. Do you believe this [u] to be a good idea?

b. *Do you believe [ðwscbi] a good idea?
In Chapter Seven (Page 508), I will propose THE CONTRACTION BLOCK CONDITION, which
stipulates that contraction is not possible over an empty category.
Throughout this book, I will continue to use the symbol “U” for a theme that is unspecified in
semantic representations, but one that is understood conceptually. The upper case symbol “U” is
intended to be consistent with the representations for themes which are also given in upper case.
In discussions of syntax, I will use the symbol “[u]” in contrast with the familiar [e]. “U” and “[u]”
240 Chapter Three
are not equivalent: the former represents an understood semantic category (thematic relation); the
latter, an understood syntactic category (phrase).
More specifically, the symbol “[u]” represents an empty element which can be replaced with a fully
specified phrase without altering the form and grammaticality of a sentence. The symbol “[e]”
represents an empty element whose position CANNOT be filled without altering the form and
grammaticality of a sentence. Typical examples of [u] and [e] are as follows:
(iv) a. I like those [u].

b. I like those [books].
(v) a. John read those books, and Mary read these [u].
b. John read those books, and Mary read these [books].
(vi) a. John will sing if you as him to [u].

b. John will sing if you ask him to [sing].
(vii) a. These books, you really must read [e].

b. *These books, you really must read [these books].
c. You really must read [these books].
(viii) a. I wonder which books John read [e].

b. *I wonder which books John read [which/these books].
c. I wonder whether John read [these books].
(ix) a. These books are easy to read [e].

b. *These books are easy to read [these books].
c. It is easy to read [these books].
8. As Jackendoff 1992: 201–202 notes, “Each conceptual category supports the encoding of
information not only on the basis of linguistic input, but also on the basis of the visual (or other
sensory) environment.” He offers the following examples:
(i) That is a robin.

(ii) There is your hat.
(iii) Can you do this?
(iv) The fish was this long.
In (i), that points out a thing in the environment; in (ii), there points out a place; in (iii), this refers
to a demonstration of an action; and, in (iv), this refers to a demonstration of distance.
9. To avoid confusion with the terminology of classical scholarship, I use the phrase “gerundial
nominal” instead of “gerundive nominal,” which has been used in the more recent linguistics
literature, e.g., Chomsky 1970, Schachter 1976. Strictly speaking, a gerundive is a verbal adjective,
Chapter Three 241
whereas a gerund is a verbal noun. The structures I will investigate here are nominal, not adjectival;
hence, my choice of terminology.
10. In Latin, the supine carries an inherent feature of number (it is always singular) and also
carries an inherent verbal affix (MODE). Thus, I would also classify it as [+NML, +VBL]. Consider
the following where te is the direct object of the accusative supine admonitum.
(i) Admonitum venimus te (accusative case).

to remind we have come you
‘We have come to remind you.’ (Cicero, De Oratore, 3, 17)
The essential verbal nature of the supine is clear from the fact that it constructs with objects and
modifiers associated with the corresponding verb as follows:
(ii) Legatos ad Caesarem mittunt rogatum auxilium

envoys to Caesar they send to ask for help
‘They send envoys to Caesar to ask for help.’ (Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, 1, 11, 2)
Thus, the supine has both verbal characteristics (it takes a direct object) and nominal characteristics
(it is inherently singular).
The Latin supine also occurs in the ablative case in expressions like mirabile dictu ‘wonderful to
relate.’ In both the accusative and the ablative, the stem of the supine is identical to the past
(passive) participle stem (the fourth principle part of the Latin verb) except that it has the vowel
characteristic of the fourth declension [u] rather than the vowel of the first and second declensions,
[a] and [o], respectively. Consider the following where the marker for the accusative singular is “m”
and the marker for the ablative singular is lengthening the declensional vowel:
(iii) Venimus visum/auditum. (vis–u–m and audit–u–m)

‘We come to see/hear.’
(iv) Mirabile visã/auditã. (vis–u–) and audit–u–))

‘It is wonderful to see/hear.’
(v) femin~ vis~/audit~... (vis–a–) and audit–a–))

‘the woman having been seen/heard...’
(vi) puerÇ visÇ/auditÇ... (vis–o–) and audit–o–))

‘the boy having been seen/heard...’
11. Note that the possessive marker POS in N3 is a separate constituent following the possessor
phrase and occupying the same position as TNS/MDE in V3 and DET in other noun phrases (see
further examples in this section). Two arguments supporting this representation of POS are the
following:
242 Chapter Three
First, the examples in (i) and (ii) indicate that POS is not inside the possessor noun phrase:
(i) [the man wearing the red hat]’s mother

*the man’s wearing the red hat mother
(ii) [the man over there]’s decision to go

*the man’s over there decision to go
Second, the examples in (iii) indicate that English does not permit both a POS and a DET in prehead
position:
(iii) *my that book/*that my book

that book of mine
The present analysis accounts for these examples by making POS a separate element in
complementary distribution to DET:
(iv) Nonquantifier Noun + POS [N3 [N3 the boy] POS new toys] (the boy’s new toys)
Quantifier + DET [N3 [N3 all] the new toys] (all the new toys)
Nonquantifier Noun + DET *[N3 [N3 the boy] the new toys] (*the boy the new toys)
Quantifier + POS *[N3 [N3 all] POS new toys] (*all’s new toys)
Other languages, e.g., Italian, do allow both a DET and a possessive (adjective) in prehead position
(il mio caro marito ‘the my dear husband’). Even English contains adjectives following the
determiner which have an essentially possessive or agentive meaning: the president’s motorcade
versus the presidential motorcade, the president’s decision on that issue versus the presidential
decision on that issue, and so on. These examples are not in conflict with the present analysis. I
will discuss the internal structure of N3 in greater detail in Section 7.3.1, Page 489 ff.
I will represent tree structures as labeled brackets, sometimes in simplified form to make them easier
to read. For example, all of the following are equivalent:
(v) [V3 [N3 [C3 [C0 the ] ] [N0 boy ] ] [C3 [C0 [2TNS, 1MDE] ] ] [V0 go ] ]
(vi) [V3 [N3 [C3 the ] [N0 boy ] ] [C3 PST ] [V0 go ] ]
(vii) [V3 [N3 the boy ] PST [V0 go ] ]
In general, I will use a detailed form like (v) when I am discussing issues concerning the internal
structure of a phrase. If the internal structure is not at issue, I will use a form like (vii).
12. A node X C–commands a node Y if X does not dominate Y, if Y does not dominate X, and
if the first branching node dominating X also dominates Y. For further details, see Appendix A:
Outline of Technical Terms (Page 607 ff.).
Chapter Three 243
13. It is important to note that I am not suggesting that prehead elements are transforms of
posthead elements or vice versa. The level distinctions simply indicate general semantic
interpretation, e.g., specifier, modifier, and complement. Sometimes subtle meaning differences are
connected with these prehead/posthead alternations. For example, consider (i).
(i) a Quechua speaking student/a student speaking Quechua

a hard working student/a student working hard
Generally, present participles have a progressive meaning in posthead position (a student who is
speaking Quechua) and an absolute meaning in prehead position (a student who speaks Quechua).
In both instances, however, the words speaking and working are modifiers of the head noun student.
In other languages, the meaning differences associated with prehead/posthead positions is often quite
distinct. Consider the following differences from three Romance languages:
(ii) PREHEAD POSTHEAD
a. Spanish: pobre miserable/unfortunate poor (=not rich)

French: pauvre miserable/unfortunate poor (=not rich)
Italian: povero miserable/unfortunate poor (=not rich)
b. Spanish: rico delicious rich

French: cher dear (=beloved) expensive
Italian: gentile noble kind/courteous
I will not be concerned with such meaning differences here. For further examples in Spanish, see
Butt and Benjamin 1988:70; in French, Lang and Perez 1996:44; in Italian, Graziano 1987:123.
14. In addition to C–commanding complements, modifiers C–command all compound nouns.

Thus, alongside of that new taxi driver we have that new taxi cab; alongside of that expensive rain
coat we have that expensive leather coat. We do not find either *that taxi new cab or *that leather
expensive coat. Deepadung (1989) and Tuladhar (1985) provide examples showing that the same
C–command constraints exist in Thai and Newari, respectively.
15. As with most linguistic generalizations, one can find apparent violations all too easily. For
example, in French and Italian, adverbs can come between a verb and its direct object, seemingly
violating the C–command relation between modifiers and complements. I will discuss these
apparent violations below in Section 3.6, Page 227 ff.
16. Note that Greenberg and Hawkins are calling a demonstrative a modifier, whereas I have
referred to a demonstrative as a specifier. Regardless of the name, the C–command relations hold
in all the cases cited, specifically, the demonstrative/specifier is always at the extreme left or right
further from the head than the numeral and adjective.
244 Chapter Three
17. For a discussion of the universals proposed by Greenberg and Hawkins, see Rijkhoff 1990,
which contains an analysis of apparent counterexamples from several African languages.
18. Observe that English phrases are like an onion with constituents appearing on opposite sides
of the head in mirror image of each other, as is expected from the C–command relations we have
proposed.
19. Similarly, consider these examples which follow from the level distinctions being made here:
(i) a hot, dry desert wind

(ii) a hot and dry desert wind
(iii) *a hot, dry and desert wind
(iv) *a hot, desert dry wind
20. The only possibility of N2 prehead nouns that I am aware of are those that express source or
material. Note the ambiguity of a cotton sack which can mean either ‘a sack made of cotton’ or ‘a
sack for cotton.’ In a cotton cotton sack, the first instance of cotton must refer to the material.
Further, notice that adjectives must precede both uses of nouns like cotton. We have a large cotton
sack (still ambiguous), but not *a cotton large sack.
In the model being described, these differences can be directly related to the level distinctions we
have made. A word like cotton, though a noun, can be assigned the interpretation of a descriptive
modifier when it occurs off N2, that is, a phrases which describes the head. When it occurs off N1,
on the other hand, it is interpreted as the first element of a compound noun. This analysis has the
virtue of accounting directly for the same ambiguity that occurs in posthead position (a sack of
cotton). Further, it will allow us to specify the interpretation of examples like the following:
(i) a. [N3 a [N2 wood [N0 fence]]] [N3 a [N2 [N0 fence] of wood]]
b. [N3 a [N1 wood [N0 pile]]] [N3 a [N1 [N0 pile] of wood]] / [V1 [V0 pile] wood]
(ii) a. [N3 a [N2 pearl [N0 necklace]]] [N3 a [N2 [N0 necklace] of pearls]]
b. [N3 a [N1 pearl [N0 gatherer]]] [N3 a [N1 [N0 gatherer] of pearls]] / [V1 [V0 gather] pearls]
21. Since forms ending in affixes like –ing and –ed have such a large number of uses, I will
generally represent them with an abstract suffix name (DA1, DA2, etc.) as in (i) rather then in
decomposed form as in (ii).
(i) a. a charming lady

[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1 ] ]] [N0 lady] ]]
b. a charmed life
[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2 ] ]] [N0 life] ]]
Chapter Three 245
(ii) a. a charming lady
[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charm]] [C0 ing ] ]] [N0 lady] ]]
b. a charmed life
[N3 [C3 a] [N2 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charm]] [C0 ed ] ]] [N0 life] ]]
22. I will explore the reasons for this restriction in my discussion of the English Noun Phrase
Condition (NPC) below.
23. The original motivation for these structures appears in Binkert 1984. For a recent account of
auxiliary elements which discusses structures for participles that are virtually identical to those here
and in Binkert 1984, see Lasnik 2000, especially Chapter 3, Pages 140 ff.
24. Representative examples of these categories, which we will discuss in detail as we proceed,
include the following:
(i) Specifiers ([-OPH, -OCL]):

a. Determiners: the, this/these, that/those, a/an
b. Degree Words: this, that, so, as, too
c. Complementizers: that, if
(ii) Quantifiers ([-OCL]):

a. Definite Noncomparative quantifiers ([-OPH]): all, both, double
b. Indefinite Noncomparative quantifiers ([-OPH]): some, enough
c. Comparative quantifiers ([+OPH]): much, many, far, long
(iii) Modifiers ([+OPH, +OCL]):

a. Descriptive Adjectives: curious, happy, fearful, etc.
b. Manner Adverbs: curiously, happily, fearfully, etc.
25. As we will see, the distinction between open phrase categories ([+OPH]) and closed phrase
categories ([–OPH]) is very important in parsing, particularly in building up phrase structure from
arbitrary input. Closed phrase categories minimize the options that a parser must consider because
surrounding lexical items cannot be merged into them, that is, cannot become part of the phrase of
which they are the head.
26. Notice that we do have examples like the following, where Sue is a common noun:
(i) Will all the Sues please stand up.

(ii) The Sue that took her clothes off at the party last night is not the Sue that I know.
(ii) Another Sue just arrived.
It is incorrect to say that Sue is a proper noun in the above, just as it is incorrect to say that Fred
Astaire is a proper noun in the following:
246 Chapter Three
(iv) He Fred Astaired her around the room.
Proper nouns cannot be tensed. They also cannot occur with specifiers and modifiers except when
such elements are part of the noun itself, e.g., The Hague (*that Hague), the Alps (*an Alp), the
White House (*a White House), etc. When a word that looks like a proper noun occurs as above,
it is not functioning as a proper noun, that is, the designation of a single individual or thing. I
believe that this extends even to cases like the following (For discussion, see Quirk, R. et al. 1985:
Page 288 ff.):
(v) A weary Queen Elizabeth II boarded the plane.

(vi) A very svelte Maria Callas sang a beautiful Amina last night at a celebrity packed La Scala.
What makes a sentence like (vi) good is that it contains deviations from some norm: Callas had a
well-publicized weight problem, her performances were not always considered “beautiful,” La Scala
is not always packed with celebrities, and so on (cf. *a female Callas).
Phrases with heads that are pronouns or proper nouns can contain appositives like the following
which I will discuss in Section 8.21, Page 547 ff.:
(vii) a. We, the people of the United States, object.

b. George Washington, who was the first US president, slept everywhere.
27. The use of particular quantifiers is constrained by the semantic class of the word or phrase
quantified, so that the meaning of any particular quantifier often varies depending on the class. For
example, far is generally acceptable with expressions that are [+PST, ±TMP], where it signifies a
great extent in space or time: They journeyed far; He ran far down the street; She stayed far into the
night. The quantifier long seems to be restricted to expressions that are [+PST, +TMP]: The storm
didn’t last long; He left long before she did; She stayed long into the night; *He walked long down
the street.
With verbs, the meaning of quantifiers frequently varies depending on whether the verb is gradable
or nongradable (Quirk, R. et al. 1985, Section 8.108, Pages 594–5). Quantifiers used with gradable
verbs express amount, as in the following examples where a lot means ‘very much’:
(ii) a. He misses her a lot. (miss = ‘feel the absence of’)

b. He likes her a lot.
c. He suffered a lot.
d. He misjudged the situation a lot.
With nongradable verbs, quantifiers generally express frequency, as in the following examples
where a lot means ‘very often’:
(iii) a. He misses his train a lot. (miss = ‘fail to meet’)

b. He drinks beer a lot.
Chapter Three 247
c. He (mis)judges people a lot.
The gradable nature of the quantified word or phrase extends to other categories:
(iv) a. John is more masculine than Bill.

b. ?John is more male than Bill.
c. Some hermaphrodites are more male than female.
28. In Binkert 1984:132, I classified pretty much, well, and very well as modal quantifiers in
sentences like the following:
(i) a. He pretty much can do as he likes.

He can pretty much do as he likes.
b. He (very) well may go.

He may (very) well go.
This classification still seems to me to be correct, although such forms are not productive;
substitution with other quantifiers or some other modals is not possible:
(ii) a. *He little can do as he likes. (cf. He is little able to do as he likes.)

b. *He a lot may go.
c. *He very well will go.
Importantly, the quantifiers in (i) are not inside the V3 that contains the modal; note that they can
be separated (See Section 3.1.2 and Section 3.5.2 for the internal structure of modals):
(iii) a. Can he pretty much do as he likes?

b. They may all very well go.
Thus, modals are [–OPH].
The word well itself has a variety of syntactic functions. It is clearly an adjective in He is not a well
man and a manner adverb in He behaves well. On the other hand, it functions like a quantifier in
They are well out of the way, He stayed well into the night, and in (i–b). Note incidentally that other
adjectives/adverbs can have a quantitative meaning: I clean forgot; He lives deep in the woods; He
is flat broke.
29. Of course, there are irregular nouns (woman, women), verbs (go, went), and adjectives and
adverbs (good/well, better, best). Further, many adjectives and adverbs require comparison with
more and most, e.g., more/most beautiful/beautifully). A few adverbial quantifiers allow inflectional
comparison (soon, sooner, soonest), but most don’t (seldom, *seldomer, *seldomest). As is usual,
we can view individual deviations from the feature specifications given as marked exceptions listed
in the lexicon.
248 Chapter Three
30. The major gap in the classification presented here is the absence of a category that is [–NML,
–VBL, –OPH, +OCL]. Perhaps interjections should be so classified: Wow, *Awesome wow; Holy
Moses, *Holier Moses; Phew, *Lots more phew. I will not pursue the matter here.
31. I follow Bresnan (1973) in the analysis of degree words. She provides paradigms like the
following:
(i) a. this much more bread

b. so much more bread
c. this much more beautiful(ly)
d. so much more beautiful(ly)
(ii) a. this much bread

b. so much bread
c. *this much beautiful(y)
d. *so much beautiful(ly)
Given these examples, Bresnan argues for a rules which deletes much before adjectives and adverbs.
Since there are no deletion rules in the system under proposal, let us assume that phrases like so
beautiful(ly) are actually (iii), where [Q] stands for a phonologically empty quantifier morpheme.
(iii) so [Q] beautiful(ly)
Bresnan also presents evidence for the following representations:
(iv) a. more < –er + much

b. most < –est + much
c. easier < –er + much + easy
d. easiest < –est + much + easy
I adopt here all of these very well motivated analyses with the exception just noted, i.e., that
structures contain [Q] and that the grammar has no deletion rules.
32. The linear and hierarchical features mentioned in the present section may not be necessary to
specify the inventory of syntactic categories in some other languages. For example, feature
oppositions like [±PREHEAD] and [±POSTHEAD] are relevant for English, but may not be relevant
for some highly inflected languages like Latin.
The parallel here with phonology is important. There is a pool of phonological features, e.g.,
[±VOICED], [±SONORANT], [±ASPIRATION], etc., based on the human articulatory apparatus.
Not every language uses the same features and distributes them in the same way. Similarly, there
is a pool of morphosyntactic features containing the features mentioned in this chapter which may
or may not occur in the inventory of another language. Further, the specification of syntactic
categories is not expected to be the same in every language. For example, in English, determiners
Chapter Three 249
are [+PREHEAD] meaning they must occur before a noun head; in Thai, determiners are
[–PREHEAD] meaning they cannot occur before a noun head. Similarly, a few adjectival
expressions aside (an off–color joke; an out–of–the–way place), English does not tolerate
prepositional phrases in prehead position between a determiner and a noun head (*the on the porch
(sitting) man), although other languages like German (i) and Ancient Greek (ii) do:
(i) das auf dem Tische liegende Buch

the on the table lying book
‘the book lying on the table’ (Curme 1964: 588)
(ii) a$ pò tÇn e$ n t‘ $Asía póleÇn %Ell‘nídÇn

from the in the Asia cities Greek
‘from the Greek cities in Asia’ (Smyth 1956: 294, §1164)
33. It may appear redundant to include both [±PRH] and [±PSH]; however, it isn’t. In English,
there are parts of speech for all four possible variations. For example, determiners can only occur
in prehead position [+PRH, –PSH], particles (out in wear out) can only occur in posthead position
[–PRH, +PSH], manner adverbs can occur in both positions [+PRH, +PSH], and interjections like
Ugh! can occur in neither position [–PRH, –PSH]. I will provide further examples of these feature
oppositions below.
34. We define a projection as follows (see (118c) directly below):
A projection of a syntactic feature matrix E0, specified for a lexical entry, is a syntactic hierarchy
that includes E0 and (potentially) other syntactic feature matrices. In English, the maximal
projection of a syntactic feature matrix is E3, and the minimal projection is E0.
For further discussion of technical terms like feature matrix, dominate, immediately dominate, etc.
see Appendix A on Page 607 ff.
35. In Figure Seven I and II, I have included a number of categories which we have not yet
specifically mentioned, for example, the emphatics too, so, and not. These will be discussed at
various points below. In particular, in Section 3.5, I will discuss the progressive, passive, and
copular uses of the verb be, and the perfective use of the verb have.
36. In Section 3.5, in connection with the structure of the English auxiliary, I will return in greater
detail to a discussion of markers like PRGP (–ing), PSVP (–ed) PFCP (–ed) and GN (–ing) as well
as the internal structure of participles, infinitives, gerunds and related forms. In Chapter Five, Page
366 ff., the component parts of the progressive, perfective, passive, etc. will be specified in terms
of a network, which includes other details such as the fact that a progressive reading is only possible
for NONSTATIVE (["DSJ, –"CNJ]) verbs.
250 Chapter Three
37. For arguments concerning the analysis of temporal and locative quantifiers as nouns, see
Binkert 1984: Chapter Four]. Temporal quantifiers include words like often, then, when, sometimes,
someday, nowadays, Sundays, weekends, etc.; locative quantifiers include words like far, there,
where, everywhere, someplace, overseas, outdoors, upstairs, etc.
38. Not wanting to contribute to what Langacker (1992a: 484) terms a “pattern of of–abuse” in
grammatical analyses, I leave open the question of the meaning of the preposition of. Langacker
(1992b: 296) argues that of “profiles an intrinsic relationship between two entities” (italics his). He
sights such examples as the following:
(i) the palm of his hand

(ii) a slab of meat
(iii) a man of great dignity
(iv) the crime of treason
(v) the king of Sweden
(vi) the signing of the treaty
The claim that of has meaning in all these examples is not in conflict with my remarks here. Simply
put, of falls in with the group of markers, including other prepositions like against (cf. a vote against
gun control below) and complementizers like that, which, in addition to whatever meaning they
bring to phrases, mark the boundaries of the head.
39. The only apparent exception to this constraint that I am aware of involves restrictive relative
clauses without an overt relative pronoun or complementizer. Compare the following:
(i) a. The student teachers praise progress.

b. The student (that) teachers praise progresses.
In fact, this is not an exception. As we will see in Chapter Eight, examples like (i–b) have a Ø
complementizer analogous to the Ø determiner in noun phrases.
40. In Section 3.4 (just below), I will argue that a feature opposition based on transitivity, e.g.,
Jackendoff’s feature opposition ±Obj, cannot be used to distinguish major categories like verbs and
prepositions because there are intransitive verbs and intransitive prepositions. Indeed, the only
reason for the opposition [±X1N] is to distinguish transitive categories from intransitive categories;
hence, we do not include it in Figure Seven.
While the NPC in English provides independent motivation for why nouns are [–X1N], that is,
always intransitive, I am unaware of any similar independent motivation for why adjectives are also
[–X1N] or, in Minimalist terminology, why adjectives are not case assigners. Perhaps, as traditional
grammarians have long observed, nouns and adjectives belong to the “supercategory” substantives.
In the system here, substantives are [–VBL, +OPH, +OCL]. In languages like Latin and German,
this could be simplified to [+OCL, "GEN], where " is an integer, since nouns and adjectives in
Chapter Three 251
those languages are the only open classes marked for the syntactic feature [GENDER]. We might
then say that all substantives are [–X1N].
Still, this “solution” is basically terminological. What is needed is a real explanation for why
adjectives in English do not assign case. The feature [–X1N] is not a universal attribute of
substantives. As Allen and Greenough (1931: 242) note regarding Latin: “in early and popular
usage some nouns and adjectives derived from transitive verbs retain verbal force sufficient to
govern the accusative” (see also Bennett 1910: Vol 1, p. 252; Kühner and Stegmann 1966: Part 2,
Band 1, p. 696).
41. This frame can be interpreted as a node admissibility condition in the sense originally
suggested by Richard Stanley (see McCawley 1976: 39). See also the discussion of node
admissibility in GPSG (Sells 1985: 79 ff.). Note that the frame corresponds to a labeled bracket in
TG, e.g., [S NP – AUX – VP]. However, the syntactic category labels used here are merely
convenient abbreviations for morphosyntactic feature constellations; they are not atomic categories.
42. In the phrase structure system being described, there is nothing to prevent us from modifying
(110) in such as way that branching is always binary. For example, rather than analyzing those three
tall men as (i), we could analyze it as (ii).
(i) [N3 [C3 those] [N2 [N3 three] [C3 tall] [N0 men]]]
(ii) [N3 [C3 those] [N2 [N3 three] [N2 [C3 tall] [N0 men]]]]
However, the facts of English suggest that a prehead numeral followed by a prehead adjective
should be on the same level. For example, we have (iii), but not (iv).
(iii) John saw those eight tall men, and I saw these four short ones.
(iv) *John saw those eight tall men, and I saw these four ones.
On the other hand, we have (v) suggesting that (ii) is also needed.
(v) John saw those four tall men, and I saw these four [u].
In short, the decision whether or not to recurse a level is entirely empirical. The phrase structure
frame (110) is meant to express the maximum number of elements for any one recursion of any one
level that appears both possible and justifiable. Further, the frame is purposely stated to allow the
same linear string to be analyzed into different hierarchical levels. The facts regarding reference
demand that. What we have here a kind of quantum linguistics: a node becomes a node just in case
something references it; in other words, the only justification for any node in any structural
representation is that some linguistic process (pronominalization, deletion, movement, etc.) mentions
it. Compare the following in which the head is grouped first with prehead elements, second with
posthead elements, and third with both:
(vi) John saw the tall men from Detroit, and I saw the ones from Ann Arbor. (ones = tall men)
252 Chapter Three
(vii) John saw the tall men from Detroit, and I saw the short ones. (ones = men from Detroit)
(viii) John saw three tall men from Detroit, and I saw four [u]. ([u] = tall men from Detroit)
43. Active transitive verbs such as promise, visit, or eat require one of three types of N3 objects:
(i) He ate [N3 the apple]. (the N3 is lexical)

(ii) Whati did he eat [N3 e]i. (the N3 is a bound anaphor)
(iii) He ate [N3 u]. (the N3 is understood)
Given the lexical specifications for such verbs, the parser merges an N3 into object position, the
content of that N3 varying: it is either lexical or [e] or [u]. Thus, the “insertion” of empty categories
is a variation on the merging of fully lexical N3; only the content of the merged N3 is different.
44. The LTP does have a few very generalized filters which apply only to the final parse trees
generated after the last word of the input. These filters check the gross structure of the final parse
trees to ensure, for example, that all WH–phrases are bound to an [e], that all [e] have an antecedent,
and so on. At present, it is not clear whether it is either possible or desirable to attempt to
incorporate these filters into the merge operation itself thereby having a parser that consists entirely
of an ideal net. I will return to the issue of filtering in Section 8.2.4, The Ordering of V1
Constituents in Italian and Hebrew (Page 565 ff.).
45. One might propose that it is a complete accident that all the uses of that are spelled and
pronounced the same. On the other hand, the distributional properties of that suggest that the forms
are indeed related. The very fact that one can propose a coherent analysis which generalizes all the
uses of that suggests that we are dealing with more than an accident. One of the important
achievements of modern grammatical theory has been to provide coherent analyses which relate
lexical items, e.g., the noun pocket and the verb pocket, the adjective happy and the adverb happily,
the preposition after and the subordinating conjunction after, and so on. The analysis of that
presented here is an instance of such a search for underlying relationships. Whether or not any two
forms are spelled and/or pronounced the same is not the real issue. The question is, Are the forms
related in a systematic way?
46. For a discussion of CP see Stowell 1981; Koopman 1984; Chomsky 1986b; and the reviews
in Radford 1988: Section 9.10, and Haegeman 1994: Section 3.3. For DP, see Abney 1987: Chapter
II, Section 3; Rouveret 1991; Giorgi and Longobardi 1991: Chapter 4; and the review in Haegeman
1994: 607–611.
47. The DP/CP analysis should be extended to include adjective phrases (AP) as well. As we saw
above in (102), degree words function in AP like determiners function in NP. Specifically, they obey
the same constraints on position:
(i) a. a teacher of that language/a (*that) language teacher

b. a teacher that young/a (*that) young teacher
Chapter Three 253
We see the same constraints on the position of degree words in adverb phrases (ADVP):
(ii) She finished the assignment that quickly./She (*that) quickly finished the assignment.
Consistency demands that we give AP and ADVP structures like the following, where DGRP =
degree phrase:
(iii) a. [DGRP [DGRP' [DGRP that] [AP young]]]

b. [DGRP [DGRP' [DGRP that] [ADVP quickly]]]
Given (iii), the positive degree of adjectives and adverbs would presumably be embedded into an
abstract (null) DGR as follows:
(iv) a. [DGRP [DGRP' [DGRP Ø] [AP young]]]

b. [DGRP [DGRP' [DGRP Ø] [ADVP quickly]]]
48. I have in mind contrasts like the following:
(i) TYPE I: both determiners and nouns have inflections that boy/those boys
(ii) TYPE II: only nouns have inflections; determiners are invariable the boy/the boys
(iii) TYPE III: only determiners have inflections; nouns are invariable that deer/those deer
Why are the majority of the world’s languages TYPE I and TYPE II. Indeed, are there any TYPE
III languages at all?
49. Note, however, that it is possible to add a descriptive expression to a pronoun:
(i) a. We, the people of the United States, want other options.
b. I, Claudius, want/*wants to be king.
c. You, the guy chewing gum in the back row, are/*is asking for trouble.
The agreement restrictions in the above examples suggest that the phrases surrounded by commas
are appositive phrases like the following:
(ii) a. John, our first grade teacher, has a headache.

b. Our first grade teacher, John, demanded quiet.
In Binkert 1984, appositive phrases are related to nonrestrictive relatives: both reside on a recursive
X3 level in posthead position:
(iii) a. [N3 [N3 we] [the people of the United States]]

b. [N3 [N3 John] [our first grade teacher]]
c. [N3 [N3 the teacher] [whom I found to be very patient]]
254 Chapter Three
For discussion, see Binkert 1984: Chapter Two. We will return to appositives here in Chapter Eight.
Notice that there are other pronominal forms which can indeed be specified and modified such as
one and ones:
(iv) a. Mary likes that yellow dress and Sue likes this red one.
b. John met the young men from Cleveland and I met the old ones from New York.
c. Those linguistics teachers are the ones that I admire.
50. As we have seen, the deictic determiners in English can be used without an overt noun
provided that some lexically appropriate noun can be supplied from the context ([u] represents an
unbound empty category):
(i) Look at that [u]/thing.

(ii) I don’t believe that [u]/statement.
If a lexically appropriate noun cannot be supplied from the context, then the demonstrative
determiners must precede an overt noun. Since some noun must be supplied from the context of the
utterance, representations with empty categories like the above seem well motivated. Along with
such examples, I will also propose representations like the following containing an unbound empty
category ([u]):
(iii) Youth is wasted on the young [u].

(iv) The rich [u] get richer, and the poor [u] get poorer.
(v) She’s the best [u] in the class.
If a phonologically empty noun head is not assumed to occur in the above examples, then all
adjectives like young, rich, poor and best must also be listed in the lexicon as nouns in all three
degrees (positive, comparative and superlative), a highly undesirable result.
51. Attempts to extract complements of nouns and adjectives marked by the preposition of
generally produce questionable results:
(i) *?It is [of those proposals]i that he gave a review [e]i.

(ii) *?It is [of those proposals]i that he is unsure/critical [e]i.
In Binkert 1984, I attributed the infelicity of these examples to the fact that of is not a full
preposition but a phonological anchor marking the right boundary of the head of the N3 and C3, in
accordance with the Noun Phrase Condition (NPC) we discussed above. I still believe that that
argument has merit, but I will not pursue it here.
52. Several types of government have been proposed, e.g., lexical government, head government,
canonical government, antecedent government, theta–government, etc. For a discussion of various
Chapter Three 255
proposals, see Rizzi 1990 and Hornstein and Weinberg 1995. With regard to Rizzi’s class of lexical
governors, Hornstein and Weinberg (1995: 296) offer the following comment: “The choice of lexical
governors is empirically justified throughout Rizzi’s book. One wonders about its conceptual
naturalness, though. The class of proper governors now consists of a subset of non–lexical and
lexical categories, with no unifying feature. Crucially, tense and agreement, but not C0 [COMP0],
must count as lexical governors in this system.”
53. It seems to me that this is an extremely important matter. Science often operates from
assumptions, but serious theorists will re–examine those assumptions in making new proposals
based on them. In such an examination, they consider all objections to previous assumptions fully.
Among other things, failure to do so prejudices one’s orientation, what one considers, what one
looks for, and what one attempts to explain.
In recent years, the number of assumptions and alternative proposals in various movement
approaches to syntax has reached such epidemic proportions that theorists appear to have insulated
themselves from criticism. Whatever objections one might raise, there always seems to be some
proposal somewhere which purports to speak to a specific issue. Such alternative proposals are
often merely cited; the objections themselves are actually not addressed. The various problems with
the DP/CP analysis that I have mentioned are not addressed by citing isolated, disconnected
proposals in this or that paper which speak to the individual questions raised. Rather, they are
addressed only when an alternative, unified proposal is made. The difficulty in this is that there
simply is no unified statement of the DP/CP analysis.
A new proposal regarding something as specific as the DP analysis, for example, should at least aim
for comprehensiveness as regards core issues, e.g., agreement. Yet, new proposals regarding the DP
analysis are frequently not cumulative. For example, Kerstens 1993 offers an alternative to Abney’s
DP analysis citing data from Dutch. Ritter 1995 offers still another alternative citing data from
Hebrew. Yet, Kersten’s work is not even mentioned in Ritter’s proposals. Thus, Ritter’s proposals,
though provocative, do not really add to our overall understanding of noun phrase structure. Instead,
they supply us with still more data that is yet to be incorporated into a unified DP analysis. If
anything, the DP analysis is not suffering from a paucity of data to consider. What is sorely needed,
however, is a unified proposal which integrates the data already amassed.
54. For a similar observation regarding the loss of function words in certain types of
agrammatism, see Caplan and Hildebrandt 1988: 59 ff.
55. The understanding of selectional restrictions, of course, develops with age. When my own
son Kevin was two, he said things like Apple dirty when I failed to completely peel the skin off an
apple and Open pencil when he wanted me to sharpen a pencil. Ultimately, such overgeneralizations
are eliminated in ordinary, as opposed to figurative, speech.
56. The Bristol language development study (Wells, 1985), one of the most ambitious longitudinal
studies of language ever undertaken, reports that noun phrases consisting of a DET + ADJ + NOUN
256 Chapter Three
occur in 50% of all the children in their sample by 39 months (128 children examined from 15
months to 60 months). Noun phrases with two modifiers between the determiner and the head reach
the 50% criterion by 54 months.
57. We see in the data the rudimentary beginnings of one–pronominalization as well as a

distinction between nouns used as a possessor (granny’s dog), a source (chocolate biscuit) and the
first element of a compound (golf ball). Such usages and distinctions figured into our separation of
the three levels of phrases in our discussion of adult English. However, it is not clear how
productive such examples are in the speech of three–year–old children so I will not argue for such
a hierarchical breakdown of phrases.
58. At several points below, particularly in Chapter Eight, I will argue that determiners and
complementizers are cueing devices which serve to cue N3 and V3, respectively. A special
characteristic of cues is that they have the simplest possible internal structure and a very rigid
position. After all, what good is a cue if it’s hard to locate? In the present system, determiners and
complementizers have no internal structure: they are [C3 [C0 ...]], that is, “head–only” phrases
([–OPH]). Further, the position of DET/CPL is fixed to [+X3L, +PRH] as we have noted. It would
be hard to consider DET and COMP cueing devices in recent Minimalist proposals, since their
internal structure and external position are so complex, undermining the idea of what a cue is.
59. It has been pointed out to me by several readers of this book in manuscript form that there is
no a priori reason for assuming that the features in phonology, syntax, and semantics behave in a
parallel fashion. This is correct, and I have not proceeded from such an assumption. On the other
hand, if it turns out from independent work in phonology, syntax, and semantics that all linguistic
features are organized and constrained in similar ways, as we have indicated at several points with
the comparisons we have made, we certainly have lost nothing. In fact, we may have discovered
a significant generality.
60. The verb be is the only verb in English which has different forms for first, second, and third
persons (I am, you are, she is, etc.). A verb that only shows distinctions between third person
singular and all other persons and numbers (do, does; have, has; go, goes) is not considered
morphologically heavy here.
61. Notice that frames like (161) and (164) which specify the residence(s) of arbitrary categories,
can be directly constructed from the morphosyntactic feature specifications Determiners are
specified lexically as [–VBL, –NML, +PRH, +ENH, +X3L]. From this specification, we can
construct the following frame:
(i) [N3 [C3 [C0 DET]] [N0 NOUN]]
We have observed that determiners are marked for noninherent number. The lexical network for
the determiner that contains the following specification:
Chapter Three 257
(ii) [–VBL, –NML, 1NUM, +PRH, +ENH, +X3L]
Given (ii), a parser can construct the following:
(iii) [N3 [C3 [C0 [1NUM]] [N0 NOUN]]
Similarly, a word like week has the specification [–VBL, +NML, 1NUM, ...]. Given the complete
specifications for that and week, the words can be merged to form the following noun phrase:
(iv) [N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N0 week]]
If the merge routines of a parser allow forms to be merged both with and without consideration of
constraints like number agreement, the following noun phrase can also be constructed:
(v) [N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N0 weeks]]
Since (v) violates the constraint on number agreement between determiners and the nouns they
specify, the parser will mark (v) as deviant unless some other conditions apply, e.g., a mass
interpretation of weeks in the following:
(vi) That beautiful two weeks in Hawaii was/*were just wonderful.
In a similar manner, we can deal with examples like the following:
(vii) Three cups of beans is sufficient.
62. English is of course not the only language that permits negative of an auxiliary element as well
as the main verb. Consider the following Yoruba examples from Payne 1985: 241:
(i) Ade kò lè kor? in

Ade NEG may/can sing
‘Ade cannot sing.’
(ii) Ade lè má kor? in

Ade may/can NEG sing
‘Ade may not sing.’ (=it is possible he will not)
(iii) Ade kò lè má kor? in

Ade NEG may/can NEG sing
‘Ade cannot not sing.’
63. The negative not can be inverted with the auxiliary in questions, but the emphatics too and so
can’t:
258 Chapter Three
(i) Didn’t he go?
(ii) *Did too/so he go?
I suspect that there are two reasons for this asymmetry. First, inversion with the subject in questions
must involve an AUX that is one word:
(ii) *Did not he go?
Here in Michigan, I have heard people ask questions like (iii) but never like (iv).
(iii) Could’ve he gone?

(iv) *Could have he gone?
Since there is no contraction possible with too and so, they can’t be preposed in questions.
Second, emphatics are used in responses to express denial of a previous statement. Generally, one
says something like John did too go only if John went and someone has suggested that he didn’t go.
Such responses are incompatible with questions, which express uncertainties.
64. Sentence adverbs can occur in final position in English only if they are preceded by a pause:
(i) He probably will go.

(ii) He will probably go.
(iii) He will go, probably.
(iv) *He will go probably.
Manner adverbs and temporal quantifiers, on the other hand, require no such pause in final position:
(v) He will go willingly.

(vi) He will go often.
Note also the following:
(vii) *He will go probably and willingly./*He will go willingly and probably.
In examples like (viii), which are parallel to (ix), it seems that the sentence adverb is outside of the
V3, that is, the structure is (x):
(viii) a. He left the room, apparently glancing over his shoulder.

b. He left the room, apparently fuming.
(ix) a. He left the room, apparently angry.

b. He left the room, apparently in a huff.
Chapter Three 259
(x) a. [V3 he PST [V2 [V1 left [N3 the room]] [C3 apparently [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 glancing over his
shoulder]]]]]
b. [V3 he PST [V2 [V1 left [N3 the room]] [C3 apparently [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 fuming]]]]]
For a discussion of the different types of adverbs in English, in particular their placement in varying
positions, see Jackendoff 1972: Chapter Three and Binkert 1984: Chapter Four.
65. As above, notice that participles occur in tree structure in their full participial form.
Co–occurrence restrictions specify that PRGP must C–command VERB5–1, e.g., imposing in (194),
that PSVP must C–command VERB4–1, e.g., broken in (195), and so on. The PSVP must also
C–command an empty category bound to a fully specified noun phrase as follows:
[V3 [N3 the jars]i [C3 PST] [V2 [V0 were] [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3[V2 [C3 purposely] [V1 [V0 broken] [e]i] ]]
]] ]]
This detail is not important for the present. In Chapter Seven, I will discuss structures like the above
in detail.
66. When examining various possible orders of elements in cases like the ones we are considering,
it is important to be alert to ambiguity. For example, although the emphatic so is generally a good
word to use to clearly establish the right boundary of the mode characterizer, ambiguity is very
common. Consider (i) where so is either an emphatic in the mode characterizer or a degree word
specifying completely or exhausted (cf. (ii)).
(i) I am so (completely) exhausted.
(ii) I am so – so (completely) exhausted.

I am too – so (completely) exhausted.
I am so – just (completely) exhausted.
67. The feature system we have proposed allows us to deal effectively with this apparent
contradiction. The perfective participle has the following features: [+VBL, –NML, 0TNS, 1VOI,
2ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]. It occurs in main verb positions (V0) but itself does not carry any
TENSE. Thus, it is marked [+VBL, 0TNS]; it is still a verb even though it has no tense. This is
another example of why [+VBL] and not, say, [+TENSE] must be the defining feature for a verb.
68. In Chapter Seven (Page 515), I will account for this distribution with the principle of
L–command: A node X L–commands a node Y, if the first branching category Z above X dominates
Y and if Y is to the left of the head of Z. Floating quantifiers must be L–commanded by their
referent.
260 Chapter Three
69. I interpret the data involving floating quantifiers to mean that the verb be is always the
syntactic head of any sentence in which it occurs. Thus, in a sentence like He could be fishing, the
main verb, from the point of view of syntax, is be, not fish.
70. Observe that we have the following, but too is in postverbal position meaning also:
(i) He is a good teacher too.
(ii) [V3 [N3 he] [C3 isi ] [V3 [V2 [V0 [e]i] [N3 a good teacher]] [C3 too]]]
71. Again, note that homeless have is “attracted” to any available fixed residence precisely
because it has no fixed residence of its own when a modal occurs with it. On the other hand, when
be occurs with a modal, it is not homeless; it resides, as always, in main verb position.
72. Examples from French seem to have been discussed much more frequently than the
corresponding examples from Italian. Further, the focus is generally on temporal quantifiers and
not manner adverbs. For a discussion of the differences on modifier placement in English and
French and other related issues, see Pollock 1989 and Chomsky 1995: 134 ff. For related issues in
Italian, see Rizzi 1990.
73. I am grateful to Professor Nicole Buffard–O’Shea, a native speaker, for help with the French
examples discussed in this section, and to Ada Berti and Liliana and Lorenzo Facchinato, all native
speakers, for help with the Italian examples.
74. The structure in (264) is a suggestion for future research. A full analysis of all the relevant
examples in French and Italian must involve a thorough discussion of clitic pronouns, which precede
the main verb, as well as the position of negatives and the order of elements in compound tenses and
questions. My major point here is that the order of various constituents might be accounted for by
structures of the type we have proposed if a nonmovement analysis is taken seriously.
75. As far as I am aware, there is no general principle covering all instances of [u] that predicts
either what can take the place of [u] or what effect the presence of an overt phrase instead of [u] will
have on meaning. In many cases, [u] can be replaced by an indefinite phrase or a specific elliptical
expression so that there is no appreciable change in meaning:
(i) a. Let’s eat [u]/something.

b. John is eager to please [u]/someone.
c. [u]/You take care of yourself.
d. Which [u]/one of the students did you see?
e. Sue shrugged [u]/her shoulders.
Sometimes [u] takes the place of something referred to in the environment or conversation and can
be replaced with the word(s) designating that referent:
Chapter Three 261
(ii) a. Look at that [u]/thing/giraffe.
b. Give me a few [u]/lemons.
c. I have thirty [u]/recordings of Rigoletto.
In other cases, [u] can be replaced with a phrase that occurs elsewhere in the sentence or with some
entirely independent phrase that changes the meaning:
(iii) a. John read those books, and I read these [u]/books/magazines.

b. John goes fishing whenever he gets a chance to [u]/go fishing/relax.
In still other cases, [u] can only be replaced with an independent overt phrase:
(iv) a. Some [u]/bottles/*wine of that wine spoiled.

b. John is as sad as Bill is [u]/happy/*sad.
I will return to a discussion of the above uses of [u] throughout the following chapters.
76. The position occupied by [u] can be filled without altering the form of a sentence unless other
principles rule out an overt item. For example, in Chapter Eight, I will discuss WH–phrases of
various types, postulating the following structures for relative clauses:
(i) the booki [V3 whichi that [V3 he bought [e]i ] > the book which that he bought
(ii) the booki [V3 [u] that [V3 he bought [e]i ] > the book that he bought
(iii) the booki [V3 whichi Ø [V3 he bought [e]i ] > the book which he bought
(iv) the booki [V3 [u] Ø [V3 he bought [e]i ] > the book he bought
(i) is ruled out by a condition that does not allow two overt “clause triggers” in standard modern
English, although such a structure is permitted in earlier stages of the language and in some modern
dialects. Thus, (i) is potentially grammatical with the position occupied by Ø (=[u]) filled with that
and the position occupied by [u] filled with which, but the structure is ruled out by another principle.
77. The explanation for movement in the passive has, for many years, been attributed to the fact that
adjectives are not case assigners, and passive participles are adjectives. As we saw in Note 40,
there are languages in which adjectives are case assigners, including perhaps English (The tree
nearest the house is an oak). Consider also sentences like We were given them, where the accusative
case on them must be assigned by given or He was taught them by a scholar (He was taught Greek
and Latin by a scholar), where again the accusative case on them must be assigned by taught.
78. In the following structure (=272b), the immediate neighborhood is defined by the middle V3.
(i) [V3 [C3 could]i [V3 [N3 they] [e]i [V3 have [V0 gone]]]]]
V3 mode V3 mode V3 head
262 Chapter Three
Both the leftmost V3 and the middle V3 dominate a mode and a head V0, but the middle V3 most
immediately dominates them (see Appendix A, Outline of Technical Terms, Page 607 ff.). The
leftmost V3 defines the extended neighborhood. Thus, they, [e], have and gone are in the immediate
neighborhood, and could is in the extended neighborhood.
In a structure like (ii), she is C–commanded by both modes, but it is in the same immediate
neighborhood as went (not said) because the lower mode most immediately C–commands she and
went.
(ii) [V3 they PST said [V3 that [V3 she PST went ]]]
mode mode
79. I will elaborate on such conditions in Chapter Seven and Chapter Eight, repeating those
mentioned here in greater detail and adding others to account for the interpretation of personal
pronouns, reflexive pronouns, reciprocal pronouns and floating quantifiers, as well as [u] and [e].
In the Extended Neighborhood Condition (ENC), I would like to be able to say that nothing occurs
in the extended neighborhood unless it is bound to something in an immediate neighborhood. There
are, however, examples of apparent residents of the extended neighborhood which are unbound:
(i) Addressee: John, I’d like you to meet my wife.

(ii) Adverbials: Anyhow, why don’t we just go to the movies?
Seriously, what’s wrong with her?
(iii) Afterthoughts: He’d make a great husband, I guess.
Except for such phrases, it does appear that residents of the extended neighborhood must be bound.
CHAPTER FOUR
In this chapter we will be concerned specifically with structural representations for thematic
relations.
4.1 SYNTACTIC USES OF CASE.
In Binkert 1970, 1984, a fundamental distinction is made between the syntactic and the semantic
uses of case. In the terms used here, case is determined either by the distribution of morphosyntactic
features or of semantic features. In the former category, we have such examples as the specification
of subject in English by the nominative case ([1CAS]). This use of the nominative has nothing to
do with the thematic relation that holds between the subject N3 and its associated verb. Consider
these examples (AFC = AFFECTIVE (EXPERIENCER); EFC = EFFECTIVE (AGENT); AFR =
AFFERENTIAL (RECIPIENT)):
(1) a. Children (AFC) frighten easily in the dark.

They (*them) frighten easily in the dark.
b. Children (EFC) may keep their bedroom lights on.

They (*them) may keep their bedroom lights on.
c. Children (AFR) gain reassurance from their parents.

They (*them) gain reassurance from their parents.
Notice that children is subject, and therefore nominative, in all these examples, despite the variation
in thematic relation. Furthermore, syntactic processes like conjunction, relativization,
pronominalization, and so on, are generally unaffected by the thematic relations involved. For
example, in (2a), frighten, which has an AFC subject, can be conjoined with keep, which has an EFC
subject. In (2b), the relativization of children is not concerned with the fact that it has a different
thematic relation from who. Similar remarks apply to (2c) and (2d).
(2) a. Children frighten easily and keep their bedroom light on (as a result).
b. Children who frighten easily may keep their bedroom lights on.
c. Children may keep their bedroom lights on because they frighten easily.
d. Children keep their bedroom lights on to gain reassurance.
Syntactic descriptions of the above data often contain statements like ‘nominative case is assigned
to the subject noun phrase’ and ‘the subject of a sentence is the noun phrase dominated by S.’ In
the X–bar system described above, syntactic categories are defined in terms of residences, positions
in syntactic structure associated with specific grammatical functions (subject, object, etc.) or
semantic relations (specification, modification, etc.). Specifiers reside on the X3 level; modifiers,
on the X2 level; and complements, on the X1 level. For example, consider (3), the diagram for The
264 Chapter Four
conscientious ambulance driver did so leave the child with the injury with a stranger with reluctance
recalling our three supercategories: V(erbs), which are [±NML, +VBL]; N(ouns), which are [+NML,
–VBL]; and C(haracterizers), which are [–NML, –VBL] (PST = PAST TENSE; Ø is the null
determiner).
(3) The conscientious ambulance driver did so leave the child with the injury with a stranger
with reluctance.
In (3), the three with–phrases are distinguished by their residence: with an injury off N2 is a modifier
of child (cf. the injured child); with a stranger off V1 is a complement of leave; and with reluctance
off V2 is a modifier of leave (cf. reluctantly). Further, conscientious off N2 is a modifier of driver
while ambulance off N1 is the complement of driver (cf. drive an ambulance).
Given structures like the one in (3), we may define the subject in both V3 (sentences) and N3 (noun
phrases) as (4):
(4) SUBJECT: an N3 residing in prehead position on the X3 level of a phrase whose head
is ["VBL, –"NML].
Definitions like (4) appeal to hierarchical structure; more precisely, they express C–command
relations between sets of features since categories like N and V are interpreted here as abbreviations
for constellations of features. Incorporating this information into the English subject frame, which
we discussed in Chapter Three (see example (161) on Page 207), yields (5), where 1CAS is
nominative case.1
Chapter Four 265
(5) ENGLISH SUBJECT FRAME:2
[V3 [N3 [N0 ["NUM, $PER, 1CAS]]] – [C3 [C0 [(MDE, "NUM, $PER]]] – V0]
This frame states that the subject of an English finite verb ([$PER]) is the noun which agrees with
it in person and number and is marked for the nominative case. This noun is the one which precedes
and C–commands the verb. Uses of case expressed in terms of C–command relations like (5) are
syntactic. Another example is the use of the accusative case ([2CAS]) in English to mark the noun
phrase object of a verb or preposition:
(6) ENGLISH OBJECT FRAME:
[X1 X0 – [N3 [N0 [2CAS]] ]
In Binkert 1984: 210, I proposed that the symbol “4” be used in place of “–” to indicate that
constituents to the left and the right can occur in any order. Adopting that symbol here, we have the
following Latin subject and object frames which are identical in all important aspects to the English
subject and object frame:3
(7) LATIN SUBJECT FRAME:
[V3 [N3 [N0 ["NUM, $PER, 1CAS]]] 4 [V0 [(MDE, "NUM, $PER]] ]
(8) LATIN OBJECT FRAME:
[X1 X0 4 [N3 [N0 [2CAS]]] ]
The occurrence of [1CAS] (nominative) in (5) and (7) and [2CAS] (accusative) in (6) and (8) is
entirely conditioned by the hierarchical position of the cased noun phrase; it has nothing to do with
any meaning relationship that exists between the noun phrase and the associated verb or preposition.
These uses of case are to be distinguished from semantic uses of case which are conditioned by
semantic features.
When syntactic facts are encoded in frames like the above, it is easy to see how a parser can be used
either to generate or to interpret random sentences. For example, if the word homines is selected
at random from the Latin lexicon or is encountered in arbitrary text by a parser, it has two possible
syntactic realizations since it is either a nominative plural form or accusative plural form. As a
nominative, it fits into frame (7); as an accusative, into frame (8). There are, of course, other uses
of the nominative and accusative than those we have included here, and each would have a separate
frame.
In generating text, the parser merges all the possible frames for homines with all the possible frames
for all the other words selected at random from the Latin lexicon. For example, if timent is selected
at random, it can occur in either the V0 slot of (7) or X0 slot of (8). The same is true if the next
266 Chapter Four
word encountered by a parser is timent. Hence, we have either Homines timent or Timent homines,
synonymous ambiguous sentences meaning either ‘Men are afraid,’ where homines is nominative,
or ‘They fear men,’ where homines is accusative.
4.2 SEMANTIC USES OF CASE.
In Chapters One and Two, we saw that the choice of prepositions to express thematic relations is not
arbitrary. Consider again examples like (9):
(9) a. The nurse supplied the drugs to John.

b. The nurse supplied John with the drugs.
The use of to in (9a) to mark the AFR theme and the use of with in (9b) to mark the ASC is
conditioned by semantic considerations. The verb supply has the following spectrum specification:
(10) (supply (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
Since AFR is a [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] theme, the preposition which marks it is to; since ASC is a
[–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] theme, the preposition which marks it is with.
In the last section, we also saw that the assignment of case in English is conditioned by syntactic
considerations. If pronouns occur in place of the lexical noun phrases in (9), the only grammatical
possibilities are (11).
(11) a. She supplied them to him.

b. She supplied him with them.
Examples like (12), will be ruled out by frames (5) and (6).
(12) a. *Her supplied they to he.

b. *Her supplied he with they.
Thus, in English, the choice of prepositions to mark thematic relations is conditioned by semantic
considerations, whereas the choice of case to mark grammatical function (subject or object) is
conditioned by syntactic considerations.
4.2.1 PRINCIPLED AND IDIOSYNCRATIC THEMATIC MARKING.
Our discussion of thematic relations has emphasized two generalizations. First, the thematic
relations contained in a predicate’s spectrum specification can be predicted from the predicate’s
meaning. Predicates fall into two groups, those with a POSITIONAL ([+PST]) meaning and those
with a NONPOSITIONAL ([–PST]) meaning. In each group, predicates can have a
Chapter Four 267
DISJUNCTURAL ([+DSJ]) meaning, which we have called SOURCE ORIENTATION, or a
NONDISJUNCTURAL ([–DSJ]) meaning, which we have called GOAL ORIENTATION. Second,
the markers (case, prepositions, and postpositions) for individual thematic relations can be predicted
from the semantic features which specify the thematic relations. Different combinations of semantic
features define different thematic relations which, in turn, are associated with a particular marker
or set of markers. We have examples in English like the following:
(13) a. [+PST, +DSJ]: ABLATIVE: They withdrew/retreated FROM the city.

b. [–PST, +DSJ]: EFFERENTIAL: They took/bought it FROM her.
(14) a. [+PST, –DSJ]: ALLATIVE: They advanced/proceeded TO the city.

b. [–PST, –DSJ]: AFFERENTIAL: They gave/sold it TO her.
In addition, we have seen that the same thematic marker can specify several different thematic
relations because those relations have many semantic features in common:
(15) a. They built the house FOR HER (BENEFACTIVE).

b. They built the house FOR VACATIONS (PURPOSIVE).
(16) a. They built the house WITH HER (COMITATIVE).

b. They built the house WITH TOOLS (INSTRUMENTAL).
The meaning classes to which predicates belong is often quite broad. For example, predicates
involving a judgement, either positive or negative, comprise a group of verbs and adjectives which,
in the overwhelming majority of instances, are construed with the preposition for to mark what
Fillmore (1971c) has called “the situation,” that is, the deed, action or state of affairs which specifies
the reason for the judgement. In our terms, this is the PURPOSIVE theme, which marks the reason
or purpose for an action (see the examples on Page 44 and Figure Three on Page 50):
(17) a. They will " him FOR IT.

" = blame, boo, castigate, chastise, chide, condemn, criticize, denounce, deride,
fault, impeach, indict, penalize, punish, razz, reproach, ridicule, scold, etc.
" = admire, applaud, appreciate, cherish, cheer, commend, esteem, flatter, glorify,
laud, praise, prize, respect, revere, reward, treasure, value, worship, etc.
" = excuse, forgive, pardon, etc.
b. He will $ FOR IT.
$ = atone, apologize, compensate, do penance, make amends, etc.
c. He is ( FOR IT.
( = accountable, answerable, liable, responsible, etc.
( = apologetic, repentant, sorry, etc.
( = conspicuous, distinguished, esteemed, famous, known, memorable, noteable,
noted, noteworthy, notorious, popular, etc.
268 Chapter Four
Further, the use of the preposition for to specify the reason for the judgement is principled, i.e,
unmarked, since for generally specifies [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +EXT] relations such as the
BENEFACTIVE and PURPOSIVE examples in (15) as well as examples like the following:
(18) a. She jumped/shouted/wept FOR JOY.

b. She did it FOR HER OWN PERSONAL SATISFACTION.
c. She was grateful/thankful FOR THEIR HELP.
On the other hand, there are a few verbs and adjectives that do not specify the reason for a
judgement with the preposition for:
(19) a. They absolved/acquitted/exonerated him OF IT.

b. They accused him OF IT.
c. He is ashamed/guilty/proud OF IT.
d. They charged/credited him WITH IT.
Given the theory of thematic relations we have proposed, one might suppose that the predicates in
(19) are not subcategorized for PURPOSIVE themes like those in (17); rather, the of in (19a), (19b),
and (19c) marks a [+DSJ, –CNJ] theme, and the with in (19d) marks a ["DSJ, "CNJ] theme (see
Figures Three and Four on Page 50).4 However, other data suggest that the prepositions in (19) are
idiosyncratic and do not mark different themes; specifically, nominals associated with these
predicates require for:5
(20) a. He was absolved OF/*FOR HIS SINS.

b. Absolution FOR/*OF HIS SINS is something he craves.
(21) a. He was accused OF/*FOR THAT CRIME.

b. Formal accusations against anyone FOR/*OF THAT CRIME are rare.
(22) a. He was guilty OF/*FOR NEGLECTING HIS CHILDREN.

b. Guilt FOR/*OF NEGLECTING HIS CHILDREN overwhelmed him.
(23) a. She was credited WITH/*FOR/*OF THE DISCOVERY.

b. Credit FOR/*WITH/*OF THE DISCOVERY was given to her.
The above data suggest that the use of of and with in (19) is idiosyncratic: the predicates mark the
reason for the judgement with specialized prepositions rather than the expected for. Accordingly,
we must make a distinction between principled uses of thematic markers, namely, those that can be
specified in lexical redundancy rules associated either with a particular semantic class of predicates
or with particular thematic relations, and idiosyncratic uses, namely, those that cannot be so
specified. The former are unmarked; the latter, marked. The unmarked prepositions associated with
thematic relations in English include the following (in passive sentences, the EFC theme is marked
idiosyncratically with by; we will return to lexical redundancy in detail in Chapters Five and Six):
Chapter Four 269
(24) a. [+DSJ, –CNJ]]
1. EFFERENTIAL EFR from He bought it FROM HER.
2. EFFECTIVE EFC from He had a visit FROM HER.
3. COMPOSITIONAL CPS out of He made it OUT OF WOOD.
4. CAUSAL CAU out of He acted OUT OF GUILT.
b. [–DSJ, +CNJ]]
1. AFFERENTIAL AFR to He sold it TO HER.
2. AFFECTIVE AFC to He was mean TO HER
3. BENEFACTIVE BEN for He went to the store FOR HER.
4. PURPOSIVE PUR for He exercises FOR FUN.
c. ["DSJ, "CNJ]
1. ASSOCIATIVE ASC with He supplied her WITH DRUGS.
2. INSTRUMENTAL INS with He built it WITH TOOLS.
3. COMITATIVE COM with He built it WITH HER.
4. CIRCUMSTANTIAL CIR with He built it WITH CARE.
4.2.2 PSYCHOLOGICAL PREDICATES.
The largest class of predicates in English that exhibit idiosyncratic thematic marking is the class
containing so–called “psychological” predicates like amaze, amuse, annoy, etc. All of these
predicates involve the transference of an emotion or feeling to some affected entity, the
AFFECTIVE (AFC) theme. According to our theory, the emotion or feeling that is transferred is
the ASSOCIATIVE (ASC) theme in the spectrum specification. As we have seen at many points
above, an ASC theme is marked in English most commonly by the preposition with:6
(25) a. Financial problems (ASC) totally overwhelm/trouble John (AFC).

b. Financial problems (ASC) are totally overwhelming/troubling TO John (AFC).
c. John (AFC) is (*being) overwhelmed/troubled WITH financial problems (ASC).
The ASC theme of many predicates is marked by the preposition with. The list includes verbs like
adorn, acquaint, animate, beset, bless, bother, content, crown, crowd, drench, endow, endue,
engrave, enhance, fill, flood, furnish, infatuate, infect, infest, inflame, inspire, intoxicate, inundate,
overburden, plague, supply, etc., as well as adjectives like busy, comfortable, content, conversant,
familiar, happy, heavy, replete, successful, etc.
Less commonly, the ASC marker in English is the preposition of, which sometimes contrasts and
sometimes alternates (in free variation) with the preposition with:
(26) a. Linguistics (ASC) tires/bores/fascinates/frustrates/wearies/sickens John (AFC).

b. Linguistics (ASC) is tiresome/boring/fascinating/frustrating/wearisome/sickening TO
John (AFC).
270 Chapter Four
c. John (AFC) is tired/bored/*fascinated/*frustrated/weary/sick OF linguistics (ASC).
d. John (AFC) is *tired/bored/fascinated/frustrated/*weary/*sick WITH linguistics
(ASC).
The ASC theme of a few different meaning classes of predicates, particularly adjectives, is marked
exclusively by the preposition of:
(27) a. certain, positive, sure, uncertain, unsure, etc.

b. covetous, contemptuous, desirous, envious, fond, jealous, etc.
c. aware, conscious, mindful, observant, etc.
For a few predicates, the ASC theme is marked by the prepositions at and in. As above, these
prepositions sometimes also contrast or alternate with the preposition with:
(28) a. The children (ASC) annoy/disgust/madden/upset John (AFC).

b. The children (ASC) are annoying/disgusting/maddening/upsetting TO John (AFC).
c. John (AFC) is annoyed/*disgusted/mad/upset AT the children (ASC).
d. John (AFC) is annoyed/disgusted/*mad/upset WITH the children (ASC).
(29) a. Work (ASC) preoccupies/interests/engrosses John (AFC).

b. Work (ASC) is preoccupying/interesting/engrossing TO John (AFC).
c. John (AFC) is *preoccupied/interested/engrossed IN work (ASC).
d. John (AFC) is preoccupied/*interested/?engrossed WITH work (ASC).
To the above uses of at and in, we can add a host of set expressions in which the choice of
preposition seems entirely idiosyncratic.
(30) a. at a distance (far), at ease (relaxed), at hand (close), at large (uncaptured), at leisure
(resting), at liberty (free), at issue (implicated), at loose ends (unsettled), at odds
(opposed), at random (random), at rest (resting), at risk (imperiled), at sea
(bewildered), at stake (involved), at will (free), at work (working), etc.
b. in a bad mood (grouchy), in a bind/jam (stuck), in a family way (pregnant), in a fog

(preoccupied), in a quandary (uncertain), in a snit (angry), in arrears (overdue), in
danger (imperiled), in earnest (sincere), in hot water (troubled), in limbo
(transitional), in print (printed), in private (private), in season (current), in the know
(knowledgeable), etc.
The prepositions with, of, at, and in share the following feature specification [–DSJ, –CNJ, –FST,
–EXT] (see Figures One and Two on Page 27 and Figures Three and Four on Page 50) which may
perhaps explain why they alternate with each other in what appears to be a completely idiosyncratic
way in so many predicates. Of course, it would be preferable to be able to say that there is a
principled reason for the individual prepositions that occur in various psychological predicates, but
the data cited above suggest that that is not possible. It is easy to construct sets of examples in
Chapter Four 271
which the choice of preposition cannot be reduced to a regularity:
(31) a. He is bored WITH/*OF her.

b. He is tired *WITH/OF her.
(32) a. He is upset WITH/?AT her.

b. He is upset WITH/*AT the political climate.
c. He is mad *WITH/AT her.
Certainly, there are subclasses of predicates which are regularly found with only one of the above
ASC prepositions (cf. (25)). As a further example, notice that predicates expressing fear are only
construed with the preposition of:
(33) a. Dogs (ASC) frighten/terrify/scare children (AFC).

b. Dogs (ASC) are frightening/terrifying/scary TO children (AFC).
c. Children (AFC) are frightened/afraid/scared (stiff) OF/*WITH dogs (ASC).
(34) a. Children (AFC) fear dogs (ASC).

b. Children (AFC) are fearful OF/*WITH dogs (ASC).
c. Dogs (ASC) are fearsome TO children (AFC).
Since of is a common DISJUNCTURAL preposition in English, one might hypothesize that of marks
a DISJUNCTURAL theme in the above examples. However, the preposition from never shows up
as an alternative to of in expressions of fear, as it does in so many other DISJUNCTURAL
expressions:
(35) a. He is fearful/frightened/scared OF/*FROM dogs.

b. He died OF/FROM cancer.
c. The house smells OF/FROM smoke.
d. He is free OF/FROM responsibility.
e. The psychiatrist freed him OF/FROM his fears.
Moreover, notice that a DISJUNCTURAL expression can be added to predicates of fearing to

indicate the CAUSE or SOURCE of the fear:
(36) a. He fears dogs BECAUSE OF an experience he had when he was a child.

b. He grew fearful of dogs FROM being attacked by them often.
Given the above data, it seems possible only to say that expressions of fear mark their ASC theme
with of. Further, psychological predicates, in general, involve the transference of some emotion or
feeling, the ASC theme, to an affected entity, the AFC theme. The ASC theme is specified generally
by the preposition with (the unmarked instance) and idiosyncratically by the prepositions of, at or
in (the marked instances). The AFC theme is specified by the preposition to following general
principles (the unmarked instance) regarding AFC themes in GOAL ORIENTED predicates. We
272 Chapter Four
have the following patterns:
(37) a. X (AFC) " Y (ASC)

" = a psychological verb
John enjoys linguistics (cf. John delights in linguistics.)
Children fear dogs.
b. X (AFC) be $ WITH/OF/AT/IN Y (ASC)

$ = a psychological adjective
John is fascinated/delighted WITH linguistics
Children are frightened/scared/fearful OF dogs.
(38) a. Y (ASC) " X (AFC)

" = a psychological verb
Linguistics fascinates/delights John.
Dogs frighten/scare children.
b. Y (ASC) be $ TO X (AFC)
$ = a psychological adjective
Linguistics is fascinating/enjoyable/delightful TO John.
Dogs are frightening/scary TO children.
The conclusion to be drawn from the above examples is that the thematic relations associated with
individual predicates and the prepositions associated with individual thematic relations are generally
predictable. Those predictions are stated as lexical redundancy rules and constitute the unmarked
instances (see (24)). However, for some individual predicates, e.g., accuse, and for some meaning
classes of predicates, e.g., those which express fear, thematic relations are marked by idiosyncratic
uses of prepositions.
4.3 THE LATIN CASE SYSTEM.
If we consider a language that has a more elaborate case system than English and, at the same time,
contains prepositions, we see that other considerations become important. For example, Latin has
five cases: nominative, accusative, genitive, dative, and ablative.7 In the classical period, the first
two have some purely syntactic uses: the nominative marks the grammatical subject, and the
accusative marks the grammatical object (cf. frames (7) and (8) above). As in English, regardless
of the meaning of the verb and the underlying thematic relation of the subject or any object phrase,
the nominative is used to indicate subjects of either transitive or intransitive verbs, and the
accusative is used to indicate objects of transitive verbs:
Chapter Four 273
(39) a. Brutus (nominative; [+DSJ]) Caesarem (accusative; [–DSJ]) interfecit.
Brutus Caesar killed
‘Brutus killed Caesar.’
b. Brutus (nominative; [–DSJ] timet.

Brutus fears
‘Brutus is afraid.’
c. Brutus (nominative; [–DSJ]) Caesarem (accusative; [+DSJ]) timet.

Brutus Caesar fears
‘Brutus fears Caesar.’
Again, like English, when a verb is transitive, the direct object can become the subject of a personal
passive, and the active subject can be expressed with a prepositional phrase:
(40) Caesar (nominative; [–DSJ]) a Bruto (ablative; [+DSJ]) interfectus est.

Caesar by Brutus killed was
‘Caesar was killed by Brutus.’
Two of the Latin cases, the dative and the ablative, have primarily semantic functions, that is, the
cases alone express thematic relations of the type we have considered.8 Generally, the dative
expresses [–DSJ] relations (AFC, AFR, BEN, PUR, etc.), and the ablative expresses [+DSJ]
relations (EFC, EFR, CAU, EXP, etc.). As a result, some Latin verbs take complements in cases
other than the accusative:
(41) Brutus (nominative; [+DSJ]) nemini (dative; [–DSJ]) placet.

Brutus no one pleases
‘Brutus please no one.’
The passive of a verb like placere ‘to please’ is impersonal:
(42) A Bruto (ablative; [+DSJ]) nemini (dative; [–DSJ]) placetur.

by Brutus to no one there is pleasing
‘No one is pleased by Brutus.’
In fact, the impersonal passive construction is used with all verbs that are not transitive.
Gildersleeve and Lodge (1960: 147) offer the following examples:
(43) vivitur, ‘there is a living’ or ‘people live’; curritur, ‘there is a running’ or ‘people run’;
pugnatur, ‘there is a fighting’ or ‘there is a battle.’
Sometimes, “verbs are used transitively with the Accusative or intransitively with the Dative without
perceptible difference in meaning” (Allen and Greenough 1931: 229, §367b):
274 Chapter Four
(44) a. Adulatus est Antonio (dative; [–DSJ]).
‘He flattered Antonio.’
(Nepos, Atticus, 8)
b. Adulatus est Neronem (accusative; [–DSJ]).

‘He flattered Nero.’
(Tacitus, Annales, xvi, 19)
Alongside of dative complements with verbs of primarily [–DSJ] meaning, there are verbs with
primarily [+DSJ] meaning whose complements are in the ablative, that is, they are used
intransitively. Such uses contrast with verbs of very similar meaning that have complements in the
accusative, that is, they are used transitively (Allen and Greenough 1931: 229, §367b):
(45) a. Conatu (ablative; [+DSJ]) destitit.

effort he abandoned
‘He abandoned (desisted from) the effort.’
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, i, 8)
b. Spem (accusative; [+DSJ] deseruit.

hope he abandoned
‘He abandoned hope.’
(Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum, 3, 19, 2)
We can summarize the uses of the Latin cases mentioned thus far as follows:
(46) a. Syntactic Uses (underlying thematic relation irrelevant).
1. Nominative: Subject of transitive and intransitive verbs.

2. Accusative: Direct object of transitive verbs.
b. Semantic Uses (underlying thematic relation relevant).
1. Dative: [–DSJ] relations.

2. Ablative: [+DSJ] relations.
In addition to the above uses of cases, Latin expresses a number of positional relations after
intransitive verbs directly with case endings. This usage stems from the case system of
Indo–European. Ancient Indo–European had three cases to express positional relations: the
accusative case for place to which (GOAL), the ablative case for place from which (SOURCE), and
the locative case for place where. These uses survive in Classical Latin but only with names of
cities, towns, small islands, and the words domus ‘home’ and rus ‘country’; furthermore, the locative
is preserved only in isolated examples (Allen and Greenough 1931: 269):
Chapter Four 275
(47) a. Place to which (accusative) Romam iit. ‘He went to Rome.’
b. Place from which (ablative): Roma iit. ‘He went from Rome.’
c. Place where (locative): Romae fuit. ‘He was in Rome.’
We must therefore expand (46) to the following:

b. Semantic Uses (underlying thematic relation relevant).
1. Dative: [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] relations.

2. Ablative: [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations.
3. Ablative: [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations (place from which).
4. Locative: [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] relations (place where).
5. Accusative: [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] relations (place to which).
To complicate matters further, thematic relations are expressed in Latin with prepositional phrases,
as they are in English. As expected, the choice of the preposition depends on the meaning of the
governing predicate. Further, Latin prepositions themselves govern specific case markers. Of the
five full Latin cases, only the accusative and ablative regularly have this function. Examples of
prepositions governing the accusative are ad ‘to, towards,’ per ‘through,’ and contra ‘against.’
Prepositions governing the ablative include ab ‘from,’ de ‘(down) from,’ ex ‘out of,’ and cum ‘with.’
Some Latin prepositions govern either the ablative or the accusative, like in ‘into, in,’ and sub
‘under.’ The distinction between the two general classes of Latin prepositions (those governing the
accusative and those governing the ablative) is most clearly seen in these prepositions that can be
construed with either case, e.g., in animum (accusative) ‘into the mind’ versus in animo (ablative)
‘in the mind.’ The former example is [–DSJ, +CNJ] expressing the GOAL of motion; the latter,
[–DSJ, –CNJ] expressing rest. These prepositions, like the German ones mentioned previously (see
Page 31), are [–DSJ, "CNJ]. Additionally, place relations other than those illustrated in (47) must
be expressed with prepositions. For example, place relations involving names of countries,
provinces, large islands, etc., as well as expressions like into the building, from the mountains, in
the forest, were expressed with prepositions as opposed to the simple accusative or ablative case:
(49) a. Place to which (ad or in):9 Ad Italiam iit. ‘He went to Italy.’
b. Place from which (ab, de, or ex): Ab Italia iit. ‘He went from Italy.’
c. Place where (in): In Italia fuit. ‘He was in Italy.’
These examples compel us to revise the uses of the cases again to the following:
276 Chapter Four

b. Semantic Uses; no preposition (underlying thematic relation relevant).

c. Semantic Uses; with a preposition (underlying thematic relations relevant).
1. Prep + Ablative: [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations (place from which).

2. Prep + Ablative: [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] relations (place where).
3. Prep + Accusative [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] relations (place to which).
The final complication involves the fact that some prepositions, like some verbs, govern the
accusative case without regard to meaning, that is, some prepositions are simply transitive. As we
have seen, the accusative marks the direct object of verbs. Similarly, we find the accusative used
with some prepositions that are clearly [+DSJ] in meaning, e.g. extra ‘without,’ as well as others that
clearly express place where, as opposed to place to which, e.g., intra ‘within.’ It seems that, by the
time of the classical period, the accusative had become a marker of the syntactic object for both
verbs and some prepositions regardless of the meaning of the governing category.
Latin grammarians agree with the above assessment. Kurylowicz (1964: 181) summarizes the status
of the accusative with verbs as follows: “The acc[usative] of the direct object is defined on purely
syntactical grounds. The definition takes care of the primary function of the acc[usative], viz. of
its syntactical function. The acc[usative] of the direct object is independent of the semantic context:
there is no common meaning or semantic common denominator to all transitive verbs except that
they are just transitive, i.e., govern the acc[usative] of the direct object.” Extending this summation
to prepositions, Woodcock (1959: 3) offers the following remarks: “As after a transitive verb, so
after a preposition, the case–ending had lost a good deal of its importance. But so long as the
preposition could accompany different cases, the case ending did remain important.” Thus, the use
of the accusative after prepositions, as well as verbs, must sometimes be viewed as syntactic.
Incorporating this usage, we therefore have the following final outline of the uses of the Latin cases
discussed so far:

2. Accusative: Direct object of transitive verbs and prepositions.
Chapter Four 277
b. Semantic Uses; no preposition (underlying thematic relation relevant).

c. Semantic Uses; with a preposition (underlying thematic relations relevant).
1. Prep + Ablative: [+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations (place from which).

2. Prep + Ablative: [+PST, –DSJ, –CNJ] relations (place where).
3. Prep + Accusative [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ] relations (place to which).
4.3.1 STRUCTURAL REPRESENTATIONS.
Given the features and structures we have developed for English, we will be able to bring order to
the case uses in (51). Two things are important.
First, we have seen that it is necessary to separate the X2 level and the X1 level. Only the latter is
associated with transitivity (cf. frame (6) on Page 265). This analysis carries over to Latin: when
the complement of a verb or preposition resides on the X1 level, that complement must be accusative
(cf. frame (8) on Page 265).
Second, we have seen that the head of characterizer phrases is often abstract, representing an ending
or affix. Recall, in particular, our analysis of English verbals, repeated here for convenience:
(52) Summary of Structures for Verbal Adjectives and Verbal Nouns.
[C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 charming]] ]] (Progressive Participle)

[C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 charmed]] ]] (Passive Participle)
[N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V0 charming]] ]] (Gerundial Nominal)
[C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1] ]] (Derived Adjective)

[C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2] ]] (Derived Adjective)
[N3 [N0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [N0 DN] ]] (Derived Nominal)
Suppose we say that the semantic uses of the Latin cases are governed by overt prepositions (ad, in,
ab, de, ex, etc.) or abstract phonologically empty characterizers (Ø). In both instances, case is
278 Chapter Four
determined by semantic feature clusters. For example, verbs with a [+DSJ, "CNJ] meaning, e.g.,
carere ‘to lack,’ co–occur with C3 complements headed by a [+DSJ, "CNJ] PREP, either overt or
abstract; in turn, this [+DSJ, "CNJ] PREP governs complements in the ablative case. Since all such
uses are intransitive, suppose we say that these intransitive prepositional complements occur on the
X2 level of the characterizers. We, therefore, have the following structure where PREP is overt or
Ø:
(53)
In the above representation, the specific case assigned to the nominal complement is determined by
the semantic features of PREP, either overt or Ø. This contrasts with the following transitive use
of overt prepositions where the accusative case ([2CAS]) of the complement is determined by the
syntactic position of the complement (it is an X1 resident) as specified in frame (8):
(54)
Prepositions such as in, which show a difference in meaning depending on the case (ablative or
accusative) they govern, occur in either of the above two structures. The phrase in animis ‘in the
minds’ which has an ablative complement contains a [–DSJ, –CNJ] use of in. The structure for this
use, which is entirely based on semantics is (53). On the other hand, in animos ‘into the minds’
which has an accusative complement contains a [–DSJ, +CNJ] use of in. Originally, this use was
also semantic, an inherited Indo–European use of the accusative to express [–DSJ, +CNJ] relations
particularly in positional expressions; in that original sense, the structure is also (53). Under this
analysis, the difference between the ablative and accusative complements is due entirely to the
presence of the features [–DSJ, –CNJ] and [–DSJ, +CNJ], respectively. However, by the time of
the classical period, the use of the accusative after prepositions had come to represent a transitive
structure, so that the accusative was no longer determined on the basis of the preposition’s meaning
alone. The phrase in animos, therefore, came to have the structure (54). Thus, the development ot
transitivity involved a change in residence from X2 to X1.
Chapter Four 279
4.3.2 THE LATIN CASE ALTERNATIONS.
We are now in a position to examine more carefully the case and prepositional alternations that
occur with verbs. First, as Pinkster (1990: 43) reports, the accusative is overwhelmingly the case
of the primary complement (PCOMP).10 Still, there are verbs construed with complements for other
cases, and we must provide an analysis of them. We have further examples like the following:
(55) a. Homines gloriae (dative) student.

men glory they desire
‘Men desire glory.’
b. Homines nobilitate (ablative) carent.

men nobility they lack
‘Men lack nobility.’
As we have seen, examples such as these contrast with verbs of very similar meaning which are
construed with accusative objects. For example, we find (56) alongside of (55a).
(56) Homines gloriam (accusative) cupiunt.

men glory they desire
‘Men desire glory.’
Indeed, studere in (55a) is itself occasionally found with direct objects in the accusative, and carere
in (55b) is construed with the accusative in Late Latin.
Sometimes, we find a verb that is construed with an oblique case, such as the dative, or the
accusative, or a prepositional phrase. Such a verb is obrepere meaning ‘creep (into/to)’:
(57) a. Imagines animis (dative) obrepunt.

b. Imagines animos (accusative) obrepunt.
c. Imagines in animos obrepunt.
d. Imagines ad animos obrepunt.
Each of these sentences basically means ‘images creep into minds.’ But they are not totally
equivalent. The prepositions ad and in were used contrastively in classical prose:
(58) a. ...quae spes, nisi ad urbem vel in urbem potius exercitum maximum adduceret?
‘What hope did he have if he did not lead a huge army to, or rather into, the city?’
(Cicero, Orationes Philippicae in M. Antonium, 5, 8, 22)
b. Deus ad homines venit, immo, quod proprius est, in homines venit.

‘God comes to man, or, more properly, into man.’
(Seneca, Epistulae, 73, 14)
280 Chapter Four
On the basis of examples like these, we must conclude that ad is an ALLATIVE preposition ([+PST,
–DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX] and in is an ILLATIVE preposition ([+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX]). This means
that (57c) and (57d) are probably not completely synonymous. Further, the dative example in (57a)
seems to represent a semantic neutralization of the prepositional alternatives in (57c) and (57d): it
is not possible to express the [+PRX]/[–PRX] distinction with the Latin case system alone. To make
such distinctions clear and avoid ambiguity, in fact, one must specify the value of PROXIMAL with
a particular preposition (ad for [–PRX]; in for [+PRX]).
Turning to the dative/accusative alternation in (57), I know of no way to determine the exact
difference between the dative complement in (57a) and the accusative complement in (57b). The
presence of the accusative makes the usage in (57b) fully transitive, so that a personal passive
becomes possible. The difference in meaning was perhaps as great as the following contrasts in
English involving incorporation of the preposition (see Gruber 1976 for other examples):
(59) a. His property borders mine.

b. His property borders on mine.
(60) a. The thief jumped the fence.

b. The thief jumped over the fence.
(61) a. I gave him the book.

b. I gave the book to him.
Interestingly, while we have (58), there are no contrasts like (62) in Latin, and, similarly, no
sentences like (63) in English (% means ‘anomalous’).
(62) %Imagines animos obrepunt, non animis.
(63) a. %His property doesn’t border mine, it borders on mine.

b. %The arrows didn’t pierce the target, they pierced through it.
c. The horse didn’t just jump the fence; it jumped all the way over the fence.
For verbs like obrepere in (57), the oblique case versus accusative case and oblique case versus
prepositional phrase alternations do not appear to have had the kind of effect on meaning that
alternative prepositional phrases do, such as those in (57c) and (57d), or in (58), or in (64).11
(64) I went to the building, but not into it.
On the other hand, there are some clear cases where an alternation between an oblique complement
and an accusative complement is connected with a difference in meaning. For example,
Gildersleeve and Lodge (1960: 221, Note 2), Woodcock (1959: 42), Allen and Greenough (1931:
229), and Madvig (1873: 215) all note that verbs of fearing like metuere, timere, vereri, and cavere
take the accusative when they mean ‘fear/dread someone or something’ and the dative when they
mean ‘fear/be anxious for someone or something.’ There are clear examples of this distinction by
Chapter Four 281
the same Latin author in the same work such as the following (note the differences in the nouns that
are the complements):12
(65) a. Non se hostem (accusative) vereri sed

not themselves enemy to dread but
magnitudinem (accusative) silvarum timere dicebant.

vastness forest to fear they say
‘They said that they did not dread the enemy but did fear the vastness of the forest’
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, 1, 39, 6)
b. Caesar suis (dative) rebus (dative) eos timere voluit.

Caesar their things them to fear wanted
‘Caesar wanted them to fear for their own possessions.’
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, 4, 16, 1)
(66) a. Cavebo omnia (accusative).

I will beware everything
‘I will be take precautions against everything’
(Cicero, Epistulae ad Familiares, 11, 21, 4)
b. Melius ei (dative) cavere volo quam ipse aliis (dative) solet.

more for him beware I wish than he for others he is wont
‘I wish to look out for him more than he is wont to look out for others.’
(Cicero, Epistulae ad Familiares, 3, 1, 3)
In contrast to such well–attested differences, other distinctions which are purported to exist appear
tenuous, at best. For example, Blake (1994:146) claims that the verb moderari means ‘to control
an entity external to the agent’ when it takes the accusative, and ‘to exercising self–restraint’ when
it takes the dative. He offers the following illustrations (his example (47); NOM = nominative, 1SG
= first person singular; ACC = accusative; DAT = dative):13
(67) a. Ego moderor equum meum

I.NOM moderate.1SG horse.ACC my.ACC
‘I control my horse.’
b. Ego moderor orationi meae

I.NOM moderate.1SG speech.DAT my.DAT
‘I moderate my speech.’
The Oxford Latin Dictionary (Glare 1982: 1122), a major work published in fascicles over a
fourteen year period, lists five sense of moderari: (i) to direct the course or motion of, guide; (ii) to
have control of, govern, rule; (iii) to restrain, hold back, check; (iv) to render less violent or intense,
temper, slacken, moderate; and (v) to regulate, dispose, arrange. Under each sense are citations from
282 Chapter Four
various authors sometimes with the complement in the accusative, sometimes with the complement
in the dative. The contexts for the two different grammatical cases are often very similar. For
example, under sense three, there is a citation from the classical author Cicero (obiit B.C. 43)
containing the dative complement orationi meae as above in Blake’s example (67b). There is also
a citation from Plautus (obiit B.C. 184) containing the dative complement linguae ‘tongue, speech’
as well as one from Sallust (obiit B. C. 35) containing the accusative complement of the same word
(linguam). Thus, the early Latin playwright Plautus has a dative complement for ‘control one’s
tongue/speech’ as does the classical author Cicero. But Sallust, a contemporary of Cicero, puts the
same complement in the accusative.
Blake’s example (67a), which has an accusative complement (equum) of moderari, seems to fit his
definition of external control; however, there are similar examples, which also seem to involve
external control, but have the complement in the dative. Consider the following (again, note the
specific nouns that occur in complement position):
(68) a. ... ut dominus navi (dative) moderaretur

so that owner ship he guided
‘so that the owner guided the ship.’
(Cicero, De Inventione Rhetorica, 2, 51, 154)
b. Sororis tuae filio (dative) moderabor diligentius.

sister your son I will guide very diligently
‘I will exercise diligent control over your sister’s son.’
(Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum, 5, 20, 9)
c. Non vinum viris moderari, sed viri vino solent

not wine men control but men wine accustomed
‘Wine does not usually control men, but men usually control wine.’
(Plautus, Truculentus, 4, 3, 57)
Given such variations, it is difficult to accept the distinction Blake makes. In this regard, the
following passage from Quintilian14 (Book IX, 3, 1) is instructive:
(69) “Verborum vero figurae et mutatae sunt semper et, utcunque valuit conseutudo, mutantur.
Itaque, si antiquum sermonem nostro comparemus, paene iam quidquid loquimur figura
est, ut hac re invidere, not ut veteres et Cicero praecipue, hanc rem, et incumbere illi, non
in illum, et plenum vino non vini, et huic on hunc adulari iam dicitur et mille alia.”
‘Figures of speech15 have always been subject to change and are constantly in the process
of change in accordance with variations in usage. Consequently, when we compare the
speech of our ancestors with our own, almost everything we say nowadays is a special
mode of expression, i.e, variation in form. For example, we say hac re [ablative] invidere
[to grudge a thing], whereas the ancients, and especially Cicero, said hanc rem
Chapter Four 283
[accusative], and incumbere illi [dative; to lean upon him], not in illum [prepositional
phrase with accusative], and plenum vino [ablative; full of wine] not vini [genitive], and
huic [dative] not hunc [accusative] adulari [to flatter]. I could mention a thousand
others.’ (emphasis mine)
It is interesting and significant that Quintilian does not make any reference to a possible meaning
difference between the alternatives he lists; he seems to view them as forms in free variation.
Whatever the subtle differences in examples like (57) are, if any, the general meaning of each of the
complements is [–DISJUNCTURAL, +CONJUNCTURAL]. All constructions, except (57b), are
found in Cicero. The accusative complement occurs in ante–classical authors and the classical
author Sallust.
Given the above data, How are the alternatives in examples like (57) to be explained in a revealing
way? As we have seen, the Latin dative case expressed [–DISJUNCTURAL] relations. This is an
inherited Indo–European usage. Such uses of case were ultimately supplanted in the Romance
languages by prepositional phrase constructions which have their roots in Latin phrases like (57c)
and (57d) (Woodcock 1959; Pinkster 1990). By the time of the classical language,
[–DISJUNCTURAL] prepositions like in and ad had become fully transitive and were construed
with accusative objects. Therefore, the theory presented here suggests that the uses of the dative in
(57a) and of the prepositions in in (57c) and ad in (57d) are semantically determined by the presence
of the specific semantic feature [–DISJUNCTURAL]. In essence, there is something in the meaning
of the verb obrepere, specifically the feature [–DISJUNCTURAL] or GOAL ORIENTATION, that
makes the complement choices in (57a), (57c) and (57d) predictable.
Notice that this is not an obvious choice. There are certainly ample instances of the use of
complement types in the world’s languages that seem idiosyncratic as we saw in our discussion of
psychological predicate, and this includes all types of complements. For example, after volitional
verbs, the choice of clause or accusative–cum–infinitive constructions in English and Latin often
appears arbitrary. Generally, in English, specific verbs take specific constructions:
(70) a. I want him to come.

b. *I want that he comes.
c. I want to come.
(71) a. *I hope him to come.

b. I hope that he comes.
c. I hope to come.
The meanings of hope and want are very similar. In fact, in both (70a) and (71b), notice that there
is even an identical presupposition that he has not yet come, so both verbs are non–factive (Kiparsky
& Kiparsky 1971).16 In Latin, similar verbs can occur in either pattern, as follows:
(72) a. Cupio/volo eum venire. = (70a)

b. Cupio/volo ut veniat = (71b)
284 Chapter Four
Among prepositional phrase alternatives, there are also some apparently idiosyncratic usages like
the following, which resemble the examples cited by Quintilian in (69):
(73) a. I believed in him.

c. *I believed on him.
(74) a. *I relied in him.

b. I relied on him.
(75) a. I trusted in him.

b. *I trusted on him.
A good case can be made for the choice of the locative prepositions in these examples. As we saw
in the discussion of literal versus metaphorical meanings of prepositions, the prepositions in
examples like (73) – (75) are metaphors. But, in these same examples, the choice between in and
on is very difficult to link to any systematic meaning difference, unlike the varying prepositions in
(57c) versus (57d), or in (58), or in (64). One can find idiosyncracies in English even among
intransitives like the following The night wore on and The challenger gave in.
Our theory suggests that the structure for (57a) and (55a), is (77), where [4CAS] = dative.
(76)
Notice that the dative N3 in the above diagram resides on the C2 level preventing it from being
subject to frame (8).17 Dative case will be assigned via the empty prepositional morpheme Ø, which
has a [–DSJ, +CNJ] meaning, a principled (unmarked) usage. In contrast to the above, (57c) and
(57d) have the following structure ([2CAS] = accusative):
Chapter Four 285
(77)
The use of the accusative in (77) is syntactic. Since the meaning of the verb obrepere is [–DSJ], it
selects the [–DSJ, +CNJ] prepositions ad and in just as English [–DSJ, +CNJ] predicates select
[–DSJ, +CNJ] prepositions. However, the accusative case on the complements of the prepositions
is syntactically determined by frame (8) at the time of the classical period.
The transitive alternative in (57b), as well as (56), can also be accounted for in the present model.
In particular, we may assume that the [–DSJ, +CNJ] characterizer in (57b) is incorporated into the
meaning of the verb. If so, then the structure for (57b) and (56) is (78).
(78)
The use of the accusative here must be viewed as syntactic because, as we have seen, even some
[+DSJ] verbs (those with SOURCE ORIENTATION) govern the accusative. Our theory claims that
such a syntactic use of case is occasioned by the distribution of morphosyntactic features specified
in frames like (8). In short, what is idiosyncratic about a verb like obrepere is that it can be either
286 Chapter Four
transitive or intransitive. Further, studere is idiosyncratically intransitive for some Latin speakers
and transitive for others. All else follows from general principles, that is, is unmarked.18
The passive syntax of pairs of verbs like studere (55a) and cupire (56) supports the analysis
suggested by the semantics. We can identify (78) as a transitive structure. In the unmarked case,
verbs that are transitive, i.e., those that have N3 in the PCOMP slot of their theme list, occur in
structures like (78) and, additionally, can be found in the personal passive. Verbs that are
intransitive, i.e., those that have C3 in the PCOMP, whether the C3 head is abstract or realized as
an overt preposition, occur only in impersonal passives. Compare (55a) with (79), and (56) with
(80).
(79) Ab hominibus (ablative) gloriae (dative) studetur.

Literally: ‘There is a desire for glory by men.’
(80) Ab hominibus (ablative) gloria (nominative) cupitur.

Literally: ‘Glory is desired by men.’
The generality is as follows:
(81) a. Transitive verbs (those with N3 in their PCOMP) take accusative objects and the
personal passive.
b. Intransitive verbs (those with C3 in their PCOMP) take oblique or prepositional

phrase complements and the impersonal passive.
The verb obrepere was intransitive during the classical period for most authors. During the
ante–classical period and in the classical author Sallust, the same verb was transitive. As a result,
if obrepere was used in the passive, say, by Cicero, the passive would have to be impersonal. It was.
This analysis suggests that the development from Indo–European to Latin to Romance involves a
transition from structures like (77) to (76) and (78). Early Latin and Sanskrit abound in
constructions like (77); modern Romance, lacking oblique semantic cases, has none. Before, during,
and after the classical period, there was much shifting back and forth from transitivity to
intransitivity. Latin dictionaries are replete with remarks to this effect, and the trend was not always
toward transitivity. Clearly, a major advantage of our descriptive model is that we do not have to
posit radically different structures and frames as we move from language to language or dialect to
dialect. The theory is rich enough to account for both the generality and diversity of linguistic
structure.
4.3.3 THE LATIN ABLATIVE WITH VERBS AND PREPOSITIONS.
In contrast to the accusative, when prepositions govern the ablative case, the relationship between
case ending and meaning is much more regular and apparent. Traditionally, classical grammarians
Chapter Four 287
(Allen and Greenough 1931: 249; Gildersleeve and Lodge 1960: 247; Woodcock 1959: 26) have
separated the uses of the ablative, with or without a governing preposition, into three groups: the
separative ablative, the locative ablative, and the ablative of association and instrument. This
classification is based on the general uses found in ancient Indo–European languages like Sanskrit
which indicate the three classes with three distinct cases, the ablative, locative, and instrumental,
respectively. In the system presented here, the Latin prepositions which govern the ablative have
meanings that fall into two main groups, the same two groups for the ablative alone without a
preposition.
First, the ablative, with or without a preposition, expresses from–type relations (the ablative of
separation), which have the features [+DSJ, –CNJ]. Second, the ablative expresses in–type (the
locative ablative) and with–type relations (the ablative of association and instrument). These uses
have the features [–DSJ, –CNJ]. The constructional variations for the [–DSJ, –CNJ] uses are
typified by examples like the following (cf. Allen and Greenough 1931: 256 ff.):
(82) a. Cum funditoribus sagittariis–que flumen transgressi sunt

with slingers archers–and river crossed have
‘They have crossed the river with the slingers and the archers.’
(Caesar, Bellium Gallicum, ii, 19)
b. Pugnis, calcibus, unguibus, morsu denique certant.

fists heels nails teeth even they fight
‘They fight with their fists, heels, nails, and even teeth.’
(Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes, v, 77)
c. Lex esse cum telis vetat.

law to be with weapons it forbids
‘The law forbids one to be armed.’
(Cicero, Oratio pro Milone, 11)
d. Subsequebatur omnibus copiis.

he followed all forces
‘He followed with all his forces.’
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, ii, 19)
e. [Subsequebatur] cum omnibus copiis.

he followed with all forces
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, i, 26)
The upper case words in (82) are in the ablative case. (82a) is a typical example of a COMITATIVE
expression in Latin, realized as a prepositional phrase introduced by cum taking an object
(funditoribus and sagittariis) in the ablative case. (82b) is a typical example of the ablative of
instrument, which is a semantic use of the ablative case marker. In such usage, there is no
288 Chapter Four
preposition, and the ablative alone carries INSTRUMENTAL meaning. (82c) is an example of how
ASSOCIATIVE expressions are realized in Latin; this example is interesting because the
accompanying item (telis) is inanimate and alienable.
In addition to these typical examples, there are instances of COMITATIVE expressions which
alternate between the ablative alone or a prepositional phrase introduced by cum. (82d) and (82e)
are examples which appear to be in free variation; note that both are from Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum.
In our analysis, all of these phrases have the following structure, where the C0 is either a lexical item
(cum) with the features [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, +EXT, "FST] or a null preposition, Ø, with the same
features:
(83)
(82a) cum liberis

(82b) Ø pugnis
(82c) Ø telis
(82d) Ø copiis
(82e) cum copiis
In (83), we have a characterizer phrase whose head is either an actual word (the preposition cum)
or a abstract, phonologically null morpheme (the INSTRUMENTAL or COMITATIVE thematic
relations represented by the same cluster of features). The lexical specification of cum includes the
fact that it expresses the COMITATIVE thematic relation; therefore, it governs complements in the
ablative case ([5CAS]). The choice of (sociative) ablative, over (separative) ablative or accusative,
is conditioned by the presence of the semantic features [–DSJ, –CNJ]; hence, this use of case is
semantic.
When Ø occurs in (83), the representation is clearly abstract. In such phrases, the ablative case
marker itself expresses the INSTRUMENTAL or COMITATIVE relation. Such representations also
encode semantic uses of case markers. As we have seen in previous sections, COMITATIVE and
INSTRUMENTAL expressions are [+EXTENSIONAL] which means they are not primarily used
in subcategorization. There are a great many other examples in Latin of semantic uses of case
which are [–EXTENSIONAL]. In fact, both uses can occur with the same verb. In this regard,
consider the following uses of the verb vacare (from Binkert 1970):
Chapter Four 289
(84) a. Di administratione (ablative ) rerum vacant.
gods management things they are free
‘The gods are free from the management of the world.’
(Cicero, De Deorum Natura, 1, 1, 2)
b. Milites ab opere (ablative) vacabant.

soldiers from work they were free
‘The soldiers were free from work.’
(Caesar, Bellum Civile, 3, 76)
c. Philosophiae (dative) semper vaco.

for philosophy always I am free
‘I am always free for philosophy.’
(Cicero, De Devinatione ad M. Brutum, 1, 6, 11)
d. In nullum opus (accusative) mea mens vacat.

for no work my mind it is free
‘My mind has not been free for any work.’
(Ovid, Epistulae ex Ponto, 3, 3, 36)
Notice that vacare is construed either with the ablative case alone (84a) or a prepositional phrase
introduced by ab with the ablative (84b) for the thing one is free from (this is the so–called ablative
of separation). It also governs either the dative alone (84c) or a prepositional phrase introduced by
in with the accusative (84d) for the thing one is free for.
The ablative complements represent a [+DSJ, –CNJ] thematic relation. Clearly, the [+DSJ, –CNJ]
element is rooted in the meaning of the verb vacare, which is a separative expression of the type
discussed in Chapter One. Thus, the meaning of vacare is specified, in part, by the incorporated
features [+DSJ, –CNJ]. To instantiate these features, vacare selects themes that are [+DSJ, –CNJ],
marked either by the overt preposition ab or by the abstract [+DSJ] prepositional morpheme Ø.
Given (84c) and (84d), it appears that vacare, like English free, also incorporates a [–DSJ, +CNJ]
relation, suggesting that its ORIENTATION may freely be either from a SOURCE, the thing one
is free from, or toward a GOAL, the thing one is free for, a situation we have seen many times
before and represented as ["DSJ, –"CNJ]. To instantiate the features [–DSJ, +CNJ], vacare selects
themes that are [–DSJ, +CNJ], marked either by the overt preposition in or by the abstract [–DSJ]
prepositional morpheme Ø. If the preposition in is selected, its complement is accusative. Again,
despite the strong connection between the meaning of the preposition in and the inherited
Indo–European uses of the accusative case as a marker of [–DSJ, +CNJ] meaning, we will say that
the accusative is the result of syntactic considerations given the general occurrence of the accusative
in Latin even after prepositions with [+DSJ] meaning. Thus, the examples in (84) are typical of the
wide variety of alternations that occur. Given the formalism proposed here, we can represent the
various constructions which occur with vacare as follows:
290 Chapter Four
(85) (Ab) opere (ablative), as in (ab) opere vaco ‘I am free from work’:
(86) In opus (accusative), as in in opus vaco ‘I am free for work’:
(87) Operi (dative), as in operi vaco ‘I am free for work’:

Chapter Four 291
With representations like (85), (86), and (87) we can make clear how case is being used. We have
the following distinctions:
(88) Morphological marker (ending).
This refers to the actual alternations in the shape of a word, e.g., oper–ibus ([5CAS,
2NUM]) versus oper–e ([5CAS, 1NUM]). These are variations of the morphosyntactic
features ["CAS, $NUM] seen in the tree structures.
(89) Syntactic case
This refers to a syntactic use of case, e.g., the uses of the nominative ([1CAS]) and
accusative ([2CAS]) discussed above (see (5) and (6)).
(90) Semantic case
This refers to a semantic use of case, e.g., the use of the ablative ([5CAS]) in (85),
represented by its salient feature [+DSJ].19
We can interpret features like [1CAS] (nominative) and [5CAS] (ablative) as references to the actual
morphological shape of a word (see Binkert 1984 for extended discussion). The use of such a
designation as ["CAS] is occasioned by either syntactic or semantic considerations. Thus, we may
say that [5CAS] (ablative) occurs in such–and–such a semantic feature environment, for example,
with verbs having SOURCE ORIENTATION like vacare. On the other hand, the use of [2CAS]
can be the result of transitivity, a particular syntactic configuration specified in frame (8).
Broadening this discussion, let us compare the following INSTRUMENTAL examples from
English, Latin, Japanese and Newari with the structures in (95) (as above, [6CAS] refers to the
morphological marker for the instrumental; INS refers to the thematic relation, which abbreviates
[–PST, –PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ, ...]):
(91) They fight with swords.
(92) Ferris certant.

swords–with they fight
(‘ferris’ is an INSTRUMENTAL theme in the ablative case.)
(93) Ap§˜ talw~rã lw~i

they sword–with fight
(‘talw~rã’ is an INSTRUMENTAL theme in the instrumental case)
(94) Karera–wa ken–de tatakau.

they sword–with fight
292 Chapter Four
(95) a. English: with swords b. Latin: ferris
c. Newari: talw~r~˜ d. Japanese: ken–de
talw~r~˜ Ø ken de
The head of all these characterizer phrases is some INSTRUMENTAL morpheme with the features
[–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX, –FST, +EXT]: in English, the preposition with; in Latin and Newari,
the phonologically null Ø; and, in Japanese, the postposition de. Each of these is construed with a
noun phrase (N3) in prehead (Japanese and Newari) or posthead (English and Latin) position. All
four noun phrases contain the morphosyntactic marker for a specific case ending: in English and
Japanese, an accusative; in Latin, an ablative; in Newari, an instrumental. Interestingly, when the
prepositions/postpositions are overt, the case endings are accusative (not oblique); when the
prepositions are not overt, the case endings are oblique (not accusative).
4.4 COMPARISON OF ENGLISH, LATIN, NEWARI AND JAPANESE.
Adopting this analysis, let us broaden the discussion even further to include several related
expressions across all four of these languages. In doing so, we will find that representations like the
above allow us to express some interesting intersections, as well as some important differences.
We begin with the observation that the English preposition by expresses both EFFECTIVE
Chapter Four 293
(delivered by mailmen) and EXPEDIENTIAL (delivered by plane) relations, that is, it can occur as
the head of a characterizer phrase that is [–PST, +PRX, +DSJ, –CNJ, +FST]. Simultaneously, the
same feature list defines the meaning of nonpositional by.
Such overlap in usage tends to be rather localized in a language like English that has so many
different prepositions. A considerable number of markers are highly idiosyncratic, even among
closely related thematic relations. For example, there is a distinction between INSTRUMENTAL,
EXPEDIENTIAL, and CAUSAL expressions in English, and each thematic relation is associated
with a specific preposition. Observe the following:
(96) a. They fight with swords.

b. *They fight by swords.
c. *They fight from swords.
(97) a. *They will travel with plane/car/bus.

b. They will travel by plane/car/bus.
c. *They will travel from plane/car/bus.
(98) a. ?They will die with overexposure.

b. *They will die by (means of) overexposure.
c. They will die from overexposure.
It is clear from these data that different circumstances or nuances generally call for different
expressions in English (judgments do vary). INSTRUMENTAL with is most common in phrases
involving tangible, hand–held objects, although there are certainly other uses (Wotan killed Hunding
with a contemptuous glare).
In Latin, there appears to be a clear difference between EFFECTIVE, EXPEDIENTIAL and

CAUSAL (from–type) expressions on the one hand and INSTRUMENTAL (with–type) expressions
on the other. As we have seen, classical grammarians term these uses ‘the separative ablative’ and
‘the sociative–instrumental ablative,’ respectively. In the former class, we find examples like the
following:
(99) Latin: always ablative (Page and paragraph references are to Allen and Greenough 1931,
unless noted)
a. Laudatur ab his (EFFECTIVE), culpatur ab illis (EFFECTIVE).

he is praised by these he is blamed by those
‘He is praised by these men and blamed by those.’
(Horace, Satirae, 1, 2, 11; Page 253, §405)
294 Chapter Four
b. Templum de marmore (COMPOSITIONAL) ponam.
temple from marble I build
‘I will build a temple of marble.’
(Virgil, Georgica, 111, 13; Page 251, §403.2)
c. Armatis hominibus (EXPEDIENTIAL) expulsi sunt

armed men they have been driven
fabri de area nostra.

workmen from building–site my
‘The workmen have been driven from my building–site by means of armed men.’
(Cicero, Ad Atticum Epistulae, 4, 3, 2; example from Woodcock 1959: 32, §44)
d. Neglegentia (CAUSAL) plectimur.

Negligence we are chastised
‘We are chastised for negligence.’
(Cicero, Laelius or De Amicitia, 85; Page 552, §404)
Mare a sole (CAUSAL) lucet.

sea from sun it gleams
‘The sea gleams from the sun.’
(Cicero, Academicae Questiones, ii, 105; Page 552, §404)
e. Honores a populo Romano (EFFERENTIAL) adipiscor.

honors from people Roman I receive
‘I receive honors from the Roman people.’
(Cicero, Oratio pro Cluentio, 43)
f. (Ex) animo (ORIGINATIVE) constamus et corpore.

(out of) soul we consist and body
‘We consist of soul and body.’
(Cicero, De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum, iv, 19)
g. Sol multis partibus (DIFFERENTIAL) maior quam terra universa

sun many parts larger than earth whole
‘The sun is many parts larger than the whole earth.’
(Cicero, De Deorum Natura, II, 36, 92; example from Gildersleeve and Lodge 1960:
259, §403)
h. Nil desperandum Teucro duce (DELIMITIVE).

nothing should be despaired Teucer leader
‘There should be no despair if Teucer is our leader.’
(Horace, Carmina or Odae, i, 7, 27; Page 263, §419a)
Chapter Four 295
The choice of prepositional alternatives to the simple ablative, where it occurs in these examples,
is instructive. Specifically, the prepositions a, ab, de, e, and ex are prepositions that most commonly
express positional separation, as we have seen, that is, the ABSENTIVE, ABESSIVE, ELATIVE,
and ABLATIVE relations, all of which are [+DISJUNCTURAL]. Consider these examples:
(100) a. Negotiator ex Africa (ABSENTIVE) est.

merchant from Africa he is
‘He is a merchant from (out of) Africa.’
(Cicero, Actio in Verrem, ii, 1, 14; Allen and Greenough 1931: 269, §426)
b. Ab urbe (ABESSIVE) profectus est

from city set out has
‘He set out from the city.’
(passim; cf. Allen and Greenough 1931: 131, §221.1a)
c. De caelo (ELATIVE) demissus est.

from heaven he has been sent
‘He has been sent down from heaven.’
(passim; cf. Allen and Greenough 1931: 133, §221.10a)
d. Libo discessit a Brundisio (ABLATIVE).

Libo departed from Brundisium
‘Libo departed from Brundisium.’ (not from within the town, but from the harbor;
Caesar Bellum Gallicum 7, 43, 5; example from Woodcock 1959: 29–30, §42ii).
From (100), we see that the Latin ablative marker clearly embraces all [+PST, +DSJ, ±CNJ]
relations in Figures One and Two. In these relations, alternatives to the bare ablative, if possible,
involve prepositions associated with expressions of place–whence (ab, ex, de, etc.). But the ablative
also clearly embraces all [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations of Figures Three and Four, as the examples
in (99) demonstrate. In all of these uses, the emphasis is on disjunction, that is, the ablative is the
from–case. In EFFECTIVE relations, ab is used idiosyncratically like English by.
Additionally, the Latin ablative expresses the Indo–European sociative–instrumental case, that is,
the [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –FST, –EXT] and [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, +EXT] relations of Figures Three
and Four, exactly paralleling English with. In these uses, the prepositional alternative to the simple
ablative is cum meaning ‘with,’ that is, the Latin ablative is also the with–case (see (82)). The full
range of examples is as follows:
(101) ATTRIBUTIVE (the ablative of quality).
a. Mulier exima (ablative) pulchritudine (ablative) (est).

woman rare beauty (is)
‘She is a woman of rare beauty.’
(Cicero, Actio in Verrem, ii, 1, 64; from Allen and Greenough 1931: 260, §415)
296 Chapter Four
b. Ista turpiculo (ablative) puella naso (ablative) (est).
that ugly girl nose (is)
‘That girl has an ugly nose.’ (Literally: ‘That girl is with/of an ugly nose.’)
(Catullus, Carmina, 41, 3; from Gildersleeve and Lodge 1960: 257, §400)
(102) ASSOCIATIVE (the ablative of attendant circumstances).
a. Veste (ablative) servili (ablative) navem conscendit.

attire of a slave ship he went on board
‘He went on board the ship in (with) a slave’s attire.’
(Cicero, De Devinatione ad M. Brutum, 1, 119; from Woodcock 1959: 33, §46.i)
b. Novi cum baculo (ablative) pera–que (ablative) senem.

I knew with stick wallet–and old man
‘I knew an old man with a stick and a wallet.’
(Martial, Epigrammata, IV, 53, 3; from Gildersleeve and Lodge 1960: 252, §392)
(103) COMITATIVE (the ablative of accompaniment).
a. (Cum) omnibus copiis (ablative) subsequebatur.

(with) all forces he followed
(Caesar, Bellum Gallicum, i, 26 & ii, 19; Allen and Greenough 1931: 259, §413a)
b. Armis cum hoste (ablative) certant.

weapons with enemy they fight
‘They fight with the enemy with weapons.’
(Cicero, De Officiis, iii, 87; from Allen and Greenough 1931: 259, §413b)
(104) COMPARATIVE (the ablative of comparison).
a. Cato est Cicerone (ablative) eloquentior.

Cato is Cicero more eloquent
‘Cato is more eloquent than Cicero.’
(passim; cf. Allen and Greenough 1931: 254, §406)
b. Nihil est amabilius virtute (ablative).

nothing is more lovable virtue
‘Nothing is more lovable than virtue.’
(Livy, Ab Urbe Condita, 29, 15, 11; from Woodcock 1959: 61, §78)
Chapter Four 297
(105) CIRCUMSTANTIAL (the ablative of manner).
a. Mirabili (ablative) celeritate (ablative) venerunt.

wonderful speed they came
‘They came with wonderful speed.’
(passim; cf. Allen and Greenough 1931: 258, §412)
b. Beate vivere, honeste, id est cum virtute vivere

happily to live honestly it is with virtue to live
‘To live happily is to live honestly, that is, with virtue.’
(Cicero, De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum, III, 8, 29; from Gildersleeve and Lodge
1960: 257, §399
(106) INSTRUMENTAL (the ablative of means).
a. Pugnis, calcibus, unguibus, morsu denique certant.

fists heels nails teeth even they fight
‘They fight with their fists, heels, nails, and even teeth.’
(Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes, v, 77; Allen and Greenough 1931: 256, §409)
b. Meis (ablative) laboribus (ablative) rem publicam liberavi

my toils state I have saved
‘I have saved the state with my toils.’
(Cicero, Oratio pro Sulla, 33; Allen and Greenough 1931: 256, §409)
The exact classification of some of these ablatives is debatable: “there are many such examples
which stand on the borderline between Means and Attendant Circumstance, and which will
doubtless be interpreted in different ways by different readers” (Bennett 1914, Vol II, 301). The
same might be said of the borderline between Means and Manner, and, without a native speaker on
hand, the judgments will remain uncertain. In any case, the point of our discussion is not
undermined: the essential idea in all these ablatives is possession or “with,” an idea encoded into
the feature system as [–DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL].
As we have noted in several sections of this book, the ablative in Indo–European was the from–case.
Such relations are expressed by the feature cluster [+DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]. This
use of two features to specify from–relations is precisely what is needed to generalize all uses of the
ablative in Latin, including both those that survive from the original Indo–European ablative, which
expressed separation, and those that survive from the original Indo–European instrumental, which
expressed association (instrument, accompaniment, manner, etc.). Observe that the examples above,
which express with–relations, are specified by the two features [–DISJUNCTURAL,
–CONJUNCTURAL]. If only one feature were available for from–relations, there would be no way
to generalize from–relations and with–relations. But the present system solves this dilemma and
explains how such relations can merge in the course of history. In fact, all these relations are
[–CONJUNCTURAL]; accordingly, we revise our earlier description of the Latin ablative as the
298 Chapter Four
[+DISJUNCTURAL]–case, to the ["DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]–case. Even the
sporadic uses of the ablative for the Indo–European locative fall into place here. The LOCATIVE
relation is also [–CONJUNCTURAL]. Thus, what appears to be an unlikely merger of relations
(from–, with–, and in–relations) becomes a straight–forward generalization based on the feature
[–CONJUNCTURAL].
On the basis of these data, one assumes that subtle distinctions were possible by varying the
prepositions. However, since the Latin ablative represented a neutralization of from–relations and
with–relations, phrases may have been ambiguously INSTRUMENTAL, EXPEDIENTIAL,
CAUSAL, EFFECTIVE, etc. when the ablative was used alone without a preposition. Latin
grammarians hedge on the issue. Allen and Greenough (1931: 253) say in one note to §405 that ‘the
ablative of agent (which requires a or ab) must be carefully distinguished from the ablative of
instrument, which has no preposition.’ But in another note to the same paragraph, they say that ‘the
ablative of means or instrument is often used instead of the ablative of agent, especially in military
phrases.’ They then provide the following example from Caesar (Bellum Gallicum vii, 69):
(107) Haec excubitoribus (ablative) tenebantur.

these sentinels were held
‘These were held by means of sentinels.’
Of course, the reason for the hedge is that excubitoribus is not used with the expected ab in a passive
construction. Whatever the nuances were, it is clear from the data that the Latin ablative had
primarily semantic uses (both from and with), and that the present feature system captures all the
uses in a highly revealing way.
Summarizing, as the from–case, the Latin ablative spreads over all [±PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations.
This includes the ABSENTIVE, ABESSIVE, ELATIVE, and ABLATIVE relations of Figures One
and Two (cf. (100), and the EFFECTIVE, COMPOSITIONAL, EXPEDIENTIAL, CAUSAL,
EFFERENTIAL, ORIGINATIVE, DELIMITIVE, and DIFFERENTIAL relations of Figures Three
and Four (cf. (99)). As the with–case, the Latin ablative spreads over all relations that are [–PST,
–DSJ, –CNJ], except those that are [–EXT, +FST], that is, the possessor relations. In the latter
regard, it parallels English with (Page 81, Example (1)).
In Newari, grammarians have long held that the language has separate ergative (EFFECTIVE),
instrumental (INSTRUMENTAL), and ablative (ABLATIVE) cases. However, there is good reason
to believe that this opinion is a result of comparison with Sanskrit, whose case system heavily
influenced both Newari grammar and Newari grammarians (Jyoti Tuladhar, personal
communication). Indeed, all three of these cases are realized by one ending, a nasal suffix. From
the point of view we have described, one might argue that all these putative cases are really one
[+DISJUNCTURAL]–case, which I will refer to as ‘the nasal case’ since that is the marker.
Consider the following examples (the symbol “2̃” represents a vowel that is both long and nasal, e.g.,
“~˜ ” is an “a” that is both long and nasal):
Chapter Four 299
(108) Newari: always nasal suffix (data from Dr. Jyoti Tuladhar, a native speaker; personal
communication)
a. R~m sal~˜ (ELATIVE) kutu wala.

Ram horse down go
‘Ram fell off the horse.’
b. R~m Nep~l~˜ (ABLATIVE) wala.

Ram Nepal go
‘Ram came from Nepal.’
c. R~mã (EFFECTIVE) lakh~˜ (ASSOCIATIVE) pukhu j~ykala.

Ram water pool fill
‘Ram filled the pool with water.’
d. R~mã chẽgul§˜ (COMPOSITIONAL) mhich~ dekala.

Ram leather purse made
‘Ram made the purse out of leather.’
e. R~m motar~˜ (EXPEDIENTIAL) Londone wana.

Ram car London go
‘Ram went to London by car.’
f. R~m cancer~˜ (CAUSAL) sita.

Ram cancer die
‘Ram died of cancer.’
g. R~mã (EFFECTIVE) bepar~˜ (EFFERENTIAL) dheba mũkala.

Ram business money collected
‘Ram collected money from business.’
h. ~˜ y~ sima–Ø pũ (ORIGINATIVE) say~–wala.

mango–of tree seed–from grow–come
‘The mango tree grew from a seed.’
i. R~m futbal–e chagu gol~˜ (DIFFERENTIAL) ty~ta.

Ram football–in one goal win
‘Ram won (in) the football game by one GOAL.’
j. R~mã (EFFECTIVE) chamch~˜ (INSTRUMENTAL) j~ nala.

Ram spoon rice ate
‘Ram ate rice with a spoon.’
300 Chapter Four
The only DISJUNCTURAL thematic relation in Figures Three and Four missing from this list is
DELIMITIVE, which, in fact may occur. At this writing, I am unable to obtain the appropriate data.
Tuladhar (personal communication) informs me that there are no uses of a grammatical case to
express ABSENTIVE and ABESSIVE relations in Newari. One does not say things like Ram is out
of town in Newari, where out of town is put in a grammatical case; one says Ram is not in town
(locative case) or one uses a postposition (pine ‘out’); see Section 1.5, Page 33 ff.
If these observations hold upon even further investigation, then the Newari nasal case spreads over
all the [±PST, +DSJ, –CNJ] relations, its major generalized uses. In addition, it has two other uses,
ASSOCIATIVE and INSTRUMENTAL, that is, [–PST, –PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ, –FST]. Again, the
present feature system allows us to make the revealing generalizations in a highly succinct way.
I should point out that the Newari nasal case is not used for either the ALIENABLE POSSESSIVE
or COMITATIVE relations, the other two relations on the ASSOCIATIVE/INSTRUMENTAL row
of Figure Four. The ALIENABLE POSSESSIVE relation is expressed by the postposition (–y~ke);
the COMITATIVE, by the postposition (–lise). What this simply means is that the language has two
specialized postpositions for expressing these relations, not unlike the specialization of English by
for EFFECTIVE and EXPEDIENTIAL.
In Japanese, [+PST, +DSJ] relations are generally expressed by the postposition kara. We have
examples like the following (from Yukari Mori, a native speaker; personal communication):
(109) a. Mary–wa machi–kara (ABSENTIVE) dete–iru.

Mary town–from outside of–is
‘Mary is outside of the town.’
b. Kare–no namae–wa meibo–kara (ABESSIVE) hazus–arete–iru.

he–of name list–from is excluded
‘His name is removed (stative) from the list.’
c. okane–ga handobakku–kara (ELATIVE) ochita.

money purse–out of fell
‘The money fell out of the purse.’
d. kare–wa ie–kara (ABLATIVE) shirizoita/itta.

he house–from withdrew/went
‘He withdrew/went from the house.’
In contrast, among the [–PST, +DSJ] relations, we have the following examples (from Professor
Asae Shichi, a native speaker; personal communication):
(110) a. Kare–wa kanojo–kara (EFFECTIVE) manabu.

he her–from learns
‘He learns from her.’
Chapter Four 301
b. Kare–wa kanojo–kara (EFFERENTIAL) sore–o katta.
he her–from it bought
‘He bought it from her.’
c. Kare–wa ie–o ki–kara (COMPOSITIONAL) tsukutta.

he house wood–from made
‘He made a house out of wood.’
d. Kashi–wa donguri–kara (ORIGINATIVE) detekuru.

oak acorn–from grows out
‘An oak grows out of an acorn.’
The postposition commonly used to indicate the EFFECTIVE relation in the passive is ni. But this
is also the postposition regularly used for indirect objects. To avoid ambiguity, kara can be used.
Consider these examples (from Yukari Mori; personal communication):
(111) a. Mary–wa John–o Billy–ni/e shyookai–shita.

‘Mary introduced John to Billy.’
b. John–wa Mary–kara Billy–ni/e shyookai–s–areta.

‘John was introduced to Billy by Mary.’
As out theory predicts, the alternatives here are not arbitrary. First, the alternative between –ni and
–e is unremarkable; both are [–DISJUNCTURAL, +CONJUNCTURAL], so they often occur
interchangeably where English would have to. Second, the usual passive marker –ni is a specialized
syntactic use for that construction, like by in English passives. The choice for a substitute, when
ambiguity might occur, is based on semantic criteria predicted by our feature based theory;
specifically, the general SOURCE postposition –kara is used. For further discussion and examples,
see Alfonso 1980, Vol. II, 949 ff.
The other NONPOSITIONAL relations we have been considering, in particular, INSTRUMENTAL,

EXPEDIENTIAL and CAUSAL, are all expressed in Japanese by the postposition –de (data from
Yukari Mori; personal communication):
(112) a. Mary–wa empitsu–de (INSTRUMENTAL) kaku.

Mary pencil–with writes
‘Mary writes with a pencil.’
b. Mary–wa denshya–de (EXPEDIENTIAL) kaeru

Mary train–by returns
‘Mary returns by train.’
302 Chapter Four
c. Mary–wa gan–de (CAUSAL) shinda.
Mary cancer–of died
‘Mary died of cancer.’
d. Mary–wa bitamin–busoku–de (CAUSAL) byooki–ni kakatta.

Mary vitamin–lack–from illness–to fell
‘Mary fell ill from a vitamin deficiency.’
As in English, there is overlap. For example, to make something out of wood (COMPOSITIONAL)
can be either ki–de or ki–kara. Not surprisingly, Asae Shichi informs me that the former stresses
instrumentality, while the latter stresses SOURCE. CAUSAL expressions can also occur with kara
(see Alfonso 1980, Vol. I, 541 ff. for examples involving causal clauses):
(113) Mary–wa fuchuui–kara (CAUSAL) ziko–ni atta.

Mary carelessness–from accident–in was
‘Mary had an accident because of her carelessness.’
As in English (with), Latin (ablative case), and Newari (nasal case), there is a union in Japanese
between INSTRUMENTAL and ASSOCIATIVE expressions:
(114) Nohara–jyuu–ga hana–de ippaida.

field–all over flowers–with be plentiful
‘The field is filled with flowers.’
These intersections and generalities in the use of Japanese postpositions are exactly what our central
thesis predicts: there will be a relation between positional and nonpositional uses of markers. On
the other hand, the richness of linguistic variability predicts that different language groups will
emphasize one or another relation or feature, that is, will organize the features into various different
natural classes. This also is borne out in the data above.
4.5 CASE IN INDO–EUROPEAN.
When dealing with ancient languages, it is not always clear why a particular grammatical case is
used for some specific class of expressions. Across the board, ancient Indo–European languages
are replete with specific case uses which are difficult to categorize. Consider, for example, which
grammatical case might be used to express something as specific as the cost of an item, that is, a
phrase like two hundred dollars in He payed two hundred dollars for that suit.
First, one might interpret the money as the means by which the item is obtained so that the cost
would be put into the instrumental case in a language that has an instrumental case (cf. He bought
that suit with the two hundred dollars I gave him/He used the two hundred dollars I gave him to buy
that suit). That interpretation appears to be correct for Sanskrit where the cost of an item is regularly
put into the instrumental case:
Chapter Four 303
(115) daçábhih; (instrumental) kr§n;~ti dhenúbhih; (instrumental).
ten buys kine
‘He buys with ten kine.’
(Rig–Veda; example from Whitney 1955: 280)
An instrumental interpretation is also favored by traditional Latin grammarians for the so–called
“Ablative of Price” (Allen and Greenough 1931: 261, Woodcock 1959: 68, Gildersleeve and Lodge
1960: 260) because Latin lost a distinct instrumental case and the uses of the Indo–European
instrumental are generally expressed in Latin by the ablative as we have seen:
(116) a. Antonius regna addixit pecunia (ablative).

Antony thrones sold money
‘Antony sold thrones for money.’
(Cicero, Orationes Philippicae in M. Antonium, vii, 15; example from Allen and
Greenough 1931: 261)
b. Eriphyla auro (ablative) viri vitam vendidit.

Eriphyle gold husband life sold
‘Eriphyle sold the life of her husband for gold.’
(Cicero, De Inventione Rhetorica, I, 50, 94; example from Gildersleeve and Lodge
1960: 260)
Second, one might argue that buyers are separated from their money during a purchase so that the
cost of an item would be put into the ablative case in a language that has an ablative case. A
purchase involves an exchange: the cost of an item (in money, goods, favors, etc.) is transferred
from the buyer to the seller, and the item purchased is transferred from the seller to the buyer. In
his grammar of Turkish, Lewis (1967: 37–38) offers such a separative interpretation of cost, placing
the examples in (117) under the uses of the ablative case to express “the point of departure”:
(117) a. Õehir–den (ablative) ayrildi

city–from departed
‘He departed from the city.’
b. ra—bet–ten (ablative) düÕtü

esteem–from fell
‘It fell from esteem.’
c. bu gidiÕ onu yerin–den (ablative) ed–ecek

this behavior him position–from make–future
(Lewis translates this as ‘This behavior will cost him his job,’ giving also the literal
paraphrase ‘This behavior will make him away from his position.’)
304 Chapter Four
d. bu elmalari kaç–tan (ablative) al–din?
these apples how much buy–past
‘At what price did you buy these apples.’
Although a separative interpretation for expressions of cost is plausible for some Indo–European
languages, classical grammarians do not argue for it even when they might. For example, although
the ablative in Latin is indeed the from–case (a function inherited from the parent language),
classical grammarians do not classify the Latin “Ablative of Price” as a separative expression. In
large part, they seem to classify it as an instrumental use simply because cost is generally agreed to
have been expressed by the instrumental case in the parent language.
At the same time, there are instances which seem to rule out an instrumental interpretation for
expressions of cost and suggest a separative one. In Ancient Greek, which has neither an
instrumental nor an ablative case, expressions of means and separation are generally expressed by
the dative and genitive cases, respectively. Although there are examples of a “Dative of Price”
(Smyth 1956: 347, §1508) as one would expect since the dative case in Ancient Greek expresses
many other functions of the Indo–European instrumental like means and accompaniment, the cost
of an item is regularly put in the genitive:
(118) a. a* rguríou (genitive) prísthai ’è a* podósthai ‘íppon

money buy or sell horse
‘to buy or sell a horse for money’
(Plato, Respublica, 333b; example from Smyth 1956: 325, §1372)
b. dóksa chr‘mátÇn (genitive) ou& k Ç’n‘t‘3

glory money not bought
‘Glory ought not to be bought for money.’
(Isocrates, 2, 32; example from Goodwin 1963: 240, §1133)
The above use of the genitive to express cost has been problematic for a very long time. Crosby
(1871:279) itemizes it, without explanation, under the heading “Genitive of Cause”; King and
Cookson (1890: 181) suggest that it might be ablatival in origin; Sonnenschein (1892: 250)
considers it of “uncertain” origin. Neither Smyth (1956) nor Goodwin (1963) offers an explanation
for it; and, although both note that the genitive in Ancient Greek regularly expresses the separative
functions of the Indo–European ablative, neither classifies the “Genitive of Price” as a separative
or ablatival usage. Schwyzer (1950: Vol II.1.2, Page 125) suggests that the “Genitive of Price”
developed not from, but rather in place of, the Indo–European “Instrumental of Price”:
“Diese Genitivkonstruktion floß bei andern Ausdrücken des Schätzens...mit einem

Genitiv andern Ursprungs zusammem, was weiter dazu führte, nicht nur...die
allgemeinen Genitiv polloû [Greek meaning ‘much’] usw. auch bei den Verben für
kaufen und verkaufen u. ä. anzuwenden, sondern den Genitiv auch zur Bezeichnung
des Wertes und Preises bei den Verben und Nomina des Schätzens, Tauschens,
Kaufens un Verkaufens, Abgebens und Empfangens und zur Bezeichnung des
Chapter Four 305
Lohnes für irgendeine Leistung bei beliebigen Verben an Stelle des ältern
Instrumentals...treten zu lassen.”
This genitive construction came together with a genitive of another origin in other
expressions of estimating which lead, in turn, not only to using the general genitive
polloû etc. with verbs for buying and selling etc., but also to using the genitive in
place of the older instrumental for the description of cost and price with verbs and
nouns of estimating, exchanging, buying and selling, giving and receiving, and for
the designation of remuneration for any kind of accomplishment with any number
of verbs.
Although there is no consensus among the grammarians cited above, it is clear that the genitive is
regularly used for separative relations in Ancient Greek (see the examples first considered in
Chapter One, Page 4), that it is not implausible to view cost as a separative expression, and that it
is implausible to assume that the genitive usage developed from the Indo–European instrumental.
Given that, suppose we analyze the “Genitive of Price” as a [+DISJUCTURAL] thematic relation,
specifically, an instance of the ABLATIVE/ABESSIVE relations (see Figure Two on Page 27).
With such a specification, an ABLATIVE use like (118a) would fall within the relationships we
have proposed and reduce to an ABESSIVE expression (‘be without money’) via NSR (Page 28).20
Thus, the analysis correctly specifies that the cost of an activity represents something that is lost,
whether actual money (That suit cost John two hundred dollars) or something more abstract (That
behavior cost John his job).
Despite the uncertainty inherent in dealing with some specific case uses in dead languages, we can
offer a general explanation for some of the dramatic changes that occurred in case uses from
Proto–Indo–European to the various daughter languages if we make use of the feature system we
have proposed. Consider first the outline of cases and expressions in (119) which Indo–European
scholars agree existed in the parent language (in addition to the nominative, accusative, and
vocative) and, second, the respective feature specifications in (120) which our model assigns them.
(119) PROTO–INDO–EUROPEAN CASE SYSTEM:
a. Ablative: separative expressions.
b. Genitive:
1. Possessive (alienable) expressions.

2. Originative and partitive expressions.
c. Locative: expressions involving location in place and time.
d. Instrumental: instrumental and comitative expressions.

306 Chapter Four
e. Dative:
1. Possessive (inalienable) expressions.

2. Experiencer, referential, and recipient expressions.
(120) a. [+DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]
b. 1. [–DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL, –PROXIMAL]

2. [+DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]
c. [–DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]
d. [–DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]
e. 1. [–DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL, +PROXIMAL]

2. [–DISJUNCTURAL, +CONJUNCTURAL]
Sanskrit and other ancient Indo–Iranian languages (Pali, Avestan, Old Persian, etc.) in general
preserve the separation of the cases in (119) (Whitney 1955: 88–103). But in the other
Indo–European branches, there are many instances of syncretism, that is, merging of cases
(Kurylowicz 1964). For example, in Balto–Slavic languages, the ablative and the nonpossessive
uses of the genitive merge (Buck 1933: 171). In terms of the present system, this amounts to a
conflation of [+DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL] relations (for examples in Modern
Russian, see Borras and Christian 1971: 19 ff). Otherwise, the Indo–European case system is
preserved in Balto–Slavic with the exception of the locative which is used only with prepositions
and is sometimes called “the prepositional case” (Entwistle and Morison 1949: 139).
A potentially more complex example comes from Ancient Greek. The genitive and dative
expressions of possession remain intact; the dative remains the case for inalienable possession (“the
person interested” (Smyth 1956: 341, §1476); the genitive remains the case for alienable possession
(Smyth 1956: 314, §1297). The ablative merges with the remaining uses of the genitive, and the
locative and instrumental merge with the remaining uses of the dative (Smyth 1956: 312, §1279).
Thus, (120a) merges with (120b2); (120c) and (120d) merge with (120e2). In the current
framework, this is a simple merger involving the redistribution of [±DISJUNCTURAL]. The
separative ablative merges with the genitive (a [+DISJUNCTURAL] merger); the locative and
instrumental generally merge with the dative (a [–DISJUNCTURAL] merger). Thus, we have a
redistribution of the feature opposition [±DISJUNCTURAL].
The case uses in the Italic branch of Indo–European, specifically in Early and Classical Latin,
present an interesting problem. As we have seen, in Latin, the separative uses of the ablative, i.e.,
from–relations, merge with the instrumental, i.e., with–relations. In some instances, they also merge
with the locative, i.e, in–relations. This would appear to be an unlikely merger of semantic
categories. But the present system offers an explanation: basically, the original genitive and dative
remain intact, while the other case uses merge, an example of a merger of [–CONJUNCTURAL]
Chapter Four 307
case relations.
Morphological change did not always result in the loss or merger of cases. Beekes (1995: 91–92)
describes the following development in Lithuanian (acc. pl. = accusative plural; gen. sg. = genitive
singular; OLith. = Old Lithuanian):
“Four new cases came into being in Lithuanian due to the fact that a particle became
attached to an already–existing form: an illative (‘up to, at’) = accusative + n(a); an
allative (‘towards’) = genitive + p(i); an adessive (‘at’) = locative + b(i); and an
inessive (‘in’) = locative + en. That these were full–fledged cases can be seen from
the fact that adjectives also received this form; for example (OLith.) namuosna
tavuosna ‘(up to) in your house’ (–uos acc. pl. –ending; t~vas ‘your’); pagirtosp
mergosp Mariosp ‘to the praised virgin Maria’ (–os gen. sg.; mergà ‘maiden’). The
forms probably came into being under the influence of Finno–Ugric. Nowadays thay
have largely disappeared (with the exception of the inessive, which has taken the
place of the old locative) ”
In our terms, Lithuanian developed a distinction between [+POSITIONAL, ±PROXIMAL] which

did not exist in the parent Indo–European case system. The illative and locative (Lithuanian
inessive) cases are [+POSITIONAL, +PROXIMAL]; the allative and adessive cases are
[+POSITIONAL, –PROXIMAL] (compare the data from Finnish in Chapter One, Page 25). In a
similar way, Tocharian distinguishes the INSTRUMENTAL and COMITATIVE functions of the
parent instrumental case with separate case endings (Beekes 1995:92), a distinction in the feature
opposition [–POSITIONAL, ±FIRST ORDER]: INSTRUMENTAL themes are [–POSITIONAL,
–FIRST ORDER]; COMITATIVE themes are [–POSITIONAL, +FIRST ORDER].
These examples indicate how far a feature system can go toward generalizing and explaining
historical change. This generalization is crucial, because there is much variation in the expression
of thematic relations across different dialects and different historical periods of the same language.
We see from the above examples that the loss of cases involves a redistribution of feature
distinctions, and that the addition of cases involves distinguishing some features previously not
distinguished. Without the explanatory power of a theory such as the one proposed here, the result
is that data on thematic relations appear idiosyncratic and nonsystematic.
Moreover, the evolution from a case system to a prepositional system, as occurs in many branches
of Indo–European can now be understood. The theory of morphosyntactic change must be able to
explain how a highly inflected language with several distinct morphological cases can develop into
one that has relatively few inflections for case. The structural representations we have proposed
indicate how this can be possible: the underlying representations are all essentially the same:
thematic relations are realized morphosyntactically by a characterizer, either overt (preposition or
postposition) or abstract (a thematic marker), and a noun phrase, that is, by one of the following
where n , {1,2} (cf. (95)):
308 Chapter Four
(121) a. [C3 [Cn [C0 with] [N3 swords] ]]
b. [C3 [Cn [C0 Ø] [N3 ferris] ]]
c. [C3 [Cn [N3 ken] [C0 de] ]]
d. [C3 [Cn [N3 talw~r~˜ ] [C0 Ø] ]]
In the historical development of English from Proto–Indo–European through Proto–Germanic, we

must account both for gradual loss of case inflections and the simultaneous emergence of
prepositions and more rigid constraints on word order. Unfortunately, the surviving documents for
Germanic are relatively recent: the Gothic translation of the Bible by Bishop Wulfila (311–382) and
other Germanic texts represent a stage of development that is much later than, for example, the
Anatolian branch (inscriptions and manuscripts from 1700–1200 B.C.), the Indo–Iranian branch
(1000 B.C.) and Greek (900 B.C.). As Mitchell and Robinson note (1964: 105), already in Old
English (700 A.D.), “the nominative and the accusative are frequently the same.” Although the
genitive and the dative/instrumental remain as separate cases, many of the relations that were
expressed in Indo–European by nominal morphology alone are already expressed in Old English by
prepositional phrases introduced by numerous prepositions including from and by (for ablative
expressions), at, in and on (for locative expressions), to (for dative expressions), and with (for
instrumental and comitative expressions). The feature distinctions in (120) and the structural
representations in (121) offer us a theoretical model of semantics and syntax within which we can
account for such developments: (120) allows us to account for semantic mergers (union of cases)
and splits (separation of cases); (121) allows us to describe the lexicalization of abstract markers.
Chapter Four 309
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER FOUR
1. In chapter three, we saw that the feature CASE has the following realizations:
(i) CASE: 1CAS = nominative

2CAS = accusative
3CAS = possessive/genitive
To accommodate the case systems we will discuss in this chapter, we expand (i) to the following:
(ii) CASE: 1CAS = nominative

2CAS = accusative
3CAS = possessive/genitive
4CAS = dative
5CAS = ablative
6CAS = instrumental
7CAS = locative
2. Notice that agreement features are not copied from one category, say, the N3 subject, to another,
the verb. Rather, structures occur freely and all those that do not satisfy the requirement of the
frame are marked ungrammatical. Specifically, if an N3 precedes and C–commands a V0, then the
feature specifications of the frame must be met. Or, from the opposite perspective, if an N3 has the
features specified, it must also be in the C–command position specified. In short, all the
specifications of the frame must be met.
3. I will discuss the Latin auxiliary constituent and word order variations in detail in Chapter Eight
in terms of a general discussion of movement rules. These factors are irrelevant to the present
discussion; hence, in the diagrams that follow in this chapter, there is no auxiliary element
represented, and the left to right order is strictly SOV. Word order variations in Latin aside for the
moment, it is clear that the English subject and object frames are essentially the same as the Latin
subject and object frames: in both languages the subject is in the nominative case and agrees with
the verb in person and number; the object is in the accusative case.
4. Verbs like absolve and exonerate are occasionally construed with the preposition from suggesting
that they have a DISJUNCTURAL sense. Consider the examples in (i) from the Oxford English
Dictionary and (ii) from Webster’s Third New International Dictionary.
(i) a. He also appealed to the Pope to be absolved from the obligations which he had
310 Chapter Four
contracted.
b. Commanding Royal Engineers will not exonerate any Officers...from the performance
of such Duties.
(ii) a. [They absolved] a subject from his allegiance.
b. [There is] no reason for exonerating him from the ordinary duties of a citizen.
However, in the above examples, the from–phrases do not specify the reason for a judgement; rather,
they express something that one is set free or excused from without any imputation of prior blame.
When blame is involved, of must be used, not from:
(iii) They absolved/exonerated him of/*from wrongdoing.
5. A for–phrase is possible with the predicates in (19); however, it must be construed as a

MODIFIER, not an SCOMP:
(i) a. For psychiatric reasons, he was absolved of the crime.

b. *Of the crime, he was absolved for psychiatric reasons.
(ii) a. For merely being in the neighborhood when it occurred, he was accused of the crime.
b. *Of the crime, he was accused for merely being in the neighborhood when it occurred.
(iii) a. For leaving the children unattended, he was found guilty of neglect.
b. *Of neglect, he was found guilty for leaving the children unattended.
(iv) a. For contributing so much to genetic research, he was among those credited with the
discovery.
b. *With the discovery, he was among those credited for contributing so much to genetic
research.
6. In the following discussion, I am concerned only with the stative uses of psychological
predicates. Stative and nonstative uses have different themes as SUBJECT: the stative uses have
an ASC theme; the nonstative uses have an EFC theme (for discussion, see Postal 1971: Chapter
Six). Compare the following:
(i) STATIVE (CGR):
a. Dogs (ASC) frighten/scare children (AFC).

b. Dogs (ASC) are very frightening/scary to children (AFC).
c. Children (AFC) are very frightened/scared of dogs (ASC).
d. *Children (AFC) are being frightened/scared of the dogs (ASC).
Chapter Four 311
(ii) NONSTATIVE (IGR):
a. The dogs (EFC) are frightening/scaring the children (AFC).

b. The children (AFC) are being (*very) frightened/scared by the dogs (EFC).
As the above data reveal, only stative passives can be modified by intensifiers like very, totally,
completely, etc.; only nonstative passives can occur in the progressive. For a similar distinction
made for psychological predicates in Italian, see Belletti and Rizzi 1988: Section 1.5, Page 308 ff.
For further discussion of fear and frighten in English, see Grimshaw 1990: 113–115, who
distinguishes between non–agentive, i.e., (i–a), and agentive, i.e., (ii–a), uses of frighten.
7. Latin also has a vocative case (for direct address), which I will not discuss here, and a locative
case in isolated forms, which I will turn to shortly.
8. The Latin genitive has both syntactic and semantic uses. The syntactic uses are mainly
adnominal; the semantic uses occur principally with verbs belonging to certain semantic classes,
e.g., verbs of remembering, forgetting, accusing, condemning, acquitting, etc. Since so many of the
uses of the genitive are adnominal and our concern is mainly with the relationship between verbs
and thematic relations, I will not discuss the Latin genitive here. For an exhaustive statistical study
of all the constructions used with verbs of remembering and forgetting, see Babcock (1901).
9. The same relation could be expressed by the Latin dative case alone without a preposition, but
this alternative is not common and found mainly in poetry:
(i) It clamor caelo (dative).

rises a shout to the sky.
‘A shout rises to the sky’ (Vergil, Aeneid, 5, 451)
(ii) It tristis ad aethera clamor.

rises sad to heavens a shout
‘A sad shout rises to the heavens’ (Vergil, Aeneid, 12, 409)
10. In a 250 page corpus of representative Latin text, the accusative marks the direct object 88.3%
of the time. In the other 11.7%, the object (PCOMP in our terms) is marked by the dative (7.6%),
the ablative (3.6%) or the genitive (0.5%).
11. In English, prepositions can be used contrastively even when they mark non–positional
themes. Consider, for example, the following interchange between characters in the film Something
to Talk about:
(i) Emma Ray, I know you’re disappointed in me.

(ii) Not in you, Sweetie, for you.
312 Chapter Four
12. As we saw in our discussion of “psychological” predicates (Page 269 ff.), expressions of fear
occur in a variety of syntactic configurations in English:
(i) a. Children (AFC) fear dogs (ASC).

b. Children (AFC) are fearful of dogs (ASC).
c. Dogs (ASC) are fearsome to children (AFC).
(ii) a. Parents (AFC) fear for their children (BEN).

b. Parents (AFC) are fearful for their children (BEN).
The prepositions which surface in the adjectival constructions above are clues to the underlying
thematic relations involved: to marks the AFFECTIVE theme, of marks the ASSOCIATIVE theme,
and for marks the BENEFACTIVE theme. Latin verbs of fearing used with accusative complements
are like (i–a); used with dative complements, they are like (ii–a).
13. Blake does not cite any references for the distinction he makes; however, his remarks are not
without precedent. Consider the following passage from Woodcock 1959: 42:
“Moderor and tempero have both an intransitive or quasi–reflexive sense ‘to exercise self–restraint’,
with a dative of the person or thing in view of which the restraint is exercised. (e.g., moderari
linguae [dative], ‘to restrain one’s tongue’), and also a transitive sense ‘to temper’, ‘govern’,
‘control’: Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes 1, 2 rem publicam [accusative] nostri maiores
melioribus temperaverunt legibus, ‘Our ancestors tempered (or governed) the state with better
laws’.”
14. Marcus Fabius Quintilian (c. A.D. 35–100) was a highly respected lawyer, teacher, and
rhetorician. His most famous work, Institutio Oratoria, was published c. A.D. 95. Marcus Tullius
Cicero (106–43 B.C.) was a prolific author, orator, and statesman. His prose style is considered the
standard for Classical Latin. Both men spent the major part of their adult life in Rome. I offer this
biographical information for clarity with regard to language change. Quintilian refers to Cicero as
one of the veteres ‘ancients, ancestors’; yet only about 75 years separate Cicero’s death from
Quintitian’s birth.
15. The phrase “figura verborum” literally means ‘figure of speech,’ but Quintilian’s phrase does
not have the same meaning as ours. In Quintilian’s context, a better translation is ‘morphosyntactic
alternation.’
16. For a discussion of some meaning classes into which these verbs fall, see Quirk, R. et al. 1985,
Chapter 16.
17. Importantly, the distinction between the C1 and C2 levels in the above diagrams allows us to
capture the difference between phrases that are transitive and those that are not, just as we were able
to do for English in separating direct objects from predicate nominatives (cf. 37). In (76), the empty
Chapter Four 313
morpheme Ø is not transitive since it has no complement off C1. In (77), the preposition is
transitive (governs the accusative) since its complement is off C1. Additional syntactic evidence
from Latin to support this distinction between X2 and X1 levels will be given directly.
18. Unless additional information is found regarding the verb moderari mentioned in Blake 1994
(see (67) and the discussion of the examples in (68)) and other similar examples mentioned by
Quintilian, I would assume that those alternations between dative and accusative complements
parallels the analysis given here for the dative versus the accusative complements of obrepere.
Specifically, while there may have been subtle differences in usage, those differences do not seem
connected to the particular grammatical case used, except for the fact that an accusative complement
rendered the usage fully transitive.
19. The use of the ablative in Latin in absolute constructions is also semantic, often paraphrasable
by a DELIMITIVE or conditional clause (see Page 42).
20. I will propose a more specific feature classification for the “Genitive of Price” in the first
section of the next chapter, specifically, why I have analyzed it as a positional expression rather than
a nonpositional one.
314 Chapter Four
CHAPTER FIVE
5.1 COMPUTATIONAL APPLICATIONS: DIMENSIONAL EXPRESSIONS.
The thematic relations described in the preceding chapters are used in lexical entries to identify the
semantic roles fulfilled by the arguments of predicates. Following the discussion in Chapter Two,
suppose we continue to assume that the lexical entry for a predicate contains a theme list specifying
the thematic relation for each grammatical function as in (1).
(1) Theme List.
a. SUBJECT
b. PRIMARY COMPLEMENT (PCOMP), e.g., direct object.
c. SECONDARY COMPLEMENT (SCOMP), e.g., indirect object.
d. MODIFIERS
The specification for sell including examples is (2) with each theme filling the respective slots in
(1), i.e., EFFECTIVE is SUBJECT, ASSOCIATIVE is PCOMP, etc.
(2) sell (He sold the car to her happily.)
a. EFFECTIVE (he)
b. ASSOCIATIVE (the car)
c. AFFERENTIAL (to her)
d. CIRCUMSTANTIAL, etc. (happily)
A important defect of the preceding analysis is that the feature space fails to specify fully the theme
list for a large class of predicates concerned primarily with measurement. Consider (3).
(3) a. The ticket cost six dollars.

b. He weighs 260 pounds.
c. The play lasted (for) 130 minutes.
d. Two months elapsed.
Although expressions of measurement tend to be optional, i.e., modifiers, in the theme list of the
majority of predicates, examples like those in (3) and their counterparts in other languages indicate
that some predicates are specifically subcategorized for such expressions. Further, it is important
to notice that the mensurative nature of the theme is conditioned by the governing predicate itself,
that is, we cannot say that a theme is interpreted as a measurement when its head is a word
concerned with measurement, e.g., dollar, feet, pound, etc. Such an approach runs aground with
examples like (4) and (5).
316 Chapter Five
(4) a. It cost him six dollars.
b. It cost him a bundle/an arm and a leg.
c. It cost him a job.
d. It cost him peace of mind.
(5) a. He found six dollars.

b. He found a bundle/an arm and a leg.
c. He found a job.
d. He found peace of mind.
To account for the types of predicates concerned with measurement, let us assume that the semantic
feature space includes the feature [±DIMENSIONAL] ([±DIM]) defined as follows:
(6) [±DIMENSIONAL] ([±DIM]).
a. [+DIM]: focusing on measurement in terms of units of space (inches, feet, miles,

etc.; from six to seven inches), time (minutes, hours, days, etc.; from six
to seven minutes), weight (ounces, pounds, kilos, etc.; from six to seven
ounces), money (cents, dimes, dollars, etc.; from six to seven cents), etc.
b. [–DIM]: not focusing on measurement, e.g., from the library to the bookstore.
Given this feature opposition, we can distinguish a verb like cost in (4a) from one like find in (5a).
The former is [+DIM], meaning that it regularly takes a dimensional expression as one of its
arguments; the latter is [–DIM], meaning that it regularly does not. Since cost but not find is
[+DIM], phrases like peace of mind are given a dimensional reading1 in (4d), but not in (5d). Notice
the following distinctions:
(7) a. Question: How much did it cost you?

b. Answer: It cost me six dollars/my job/peace of mind.
(8) a. Question: How much did you find?

b. Answer: I found six dollars/*my job/*peace of mind.
Verbs which can or must govern [+DIM] themes includes extend, grow, measure, reach, span;
continue, last, mature, pause, persist; gain, lose, outweigh, weigh; budget, charge, cost, earn, price;
etc. We have such comparisons as the following:2
(9) a. [+PST, –TMP, –DIM]: The gardener walked FROM THE SHED TO THE HOUSE.
b. [+PST, –TMP, +DIM]: The backup extended FROM FOUR TO FIVE MILES.
c. [+PST, +TMP, –DIM]: The carpenter worked FROM DAWN TO DUSK.
d. [+PST, +TMP, +DIM]: The ceremony lasted FROM 120 to 130 MINUTES.
Chapter Five 317
All of the uppercase expressions in (9) are positional.3 Thus, appropriate question words include
where, when, how far, how long, etc.:
(10) a. How far did the gardener walk? Answer: All the way up to the house.
b. How far did the backup extend? Answer: About five miles.
c. How long did the carpenter work? Answer: Until around dusk.
d. How long did the ceremony last? Answer: Nearly 130 minutes.
Notice that some dimensional expressions can occur either with a predicate that is [–DIM] or with
one that is [+DIM]. For example, the verb argue does not require a temporal expression (They
argued), whereas the verb last usually does (*?Their arguments lasted/their arguments won’t last):
(11) a. [–DIM] predicate: They argued *(FOR) NEARLY TWO DAYS.

b. [+DIM] predicate: Their arguments lasted (FOR) NEARLY TWO DAYS.
(12) a. [–DIM] predicate: They argued THE WHOLE WEEKEND.

b. [+DIM] predicate: Their arguments lasted THE WHOLE WEEKEND.
Further, some predicates can be used both nondimensionally and dimensionally:
(13) a. [–DIM]: He weighed all the alternatives (carefully).

b. [+DIM]: He weighed 200 pounds (*carefully).
(14) a. [–DIM]: They extended the road to the entrance of the new mall (*further).
b. [+DIM]: They extended the road fifty feet (further).
(15) a. [–DIM]: She earned the promotion (*more).

b. [+DIM]: She earned sixty dollars (more).
Given the feature specifications in (9), we might consider whether or not there are any thematic
relations that are [–PST] and [+DIM]. Such a relation would be the dimensional counterpart of
examples like (16).
(16) that painting is the INALIENABLE POSSESSOR of the ATTRIBUTE signature:
a. There is a signature in that painting.

b. That painting has a signature.
Further, the missing relation would fit into the slot (17f) in (17).
(17) [+PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ, –FST, –EXT]
a. [+PST, –TMP, –DIM]: There is only one window IN THE ROOM.

b. [+PST, –TMP, +DIM]: The tree stood IN A FEW INCHES OF WATER.
318 Chapter Five
c. [+PST, +TMP, –DIM]: There was only one snowstorm IN MARCH.
d. [+PST, +TMP, +DIM]: This TV dinner is ready IN A FEW MINUTES.
e. [–PST, –DIM]: There is a signature IN THAT PAINTING.
f. [–PST, +DIM]: ?
What is missing in (17) is a relation that is [–PST, +DIM, +PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ, –FST, –EXT], that
is, one which stipulates some inalienable attribute of an object, and simultaneously expresses some
“measurement” of the object. Further, since the missing relation is nonpositional, it must be abstract.
One way of measuring an object abstractly is to classify it either in terms of a part–whole

relationship, e.g., The painting is part of The Louvre’s collection, or in terms of a member–class
relationship, e.g., That painting is an impressionist painting. Let us call the former relationship
COMPONENTIAL and the latter TYPOLOGICAL.4 Both of these relationships are essentially
locative/possessive, that is, ["DSJ, "CNJ]. Of the two, the COMPONENTIAL relationship is the
more localized ([–EXT]) since it generally looks at one characteristic, e.g., A ceiling is part of a
room (A room has a ceiling). The TYPOLOGICAL relationship is broader ([+EXT]) since an object
is generally consider a member of a class on the basis of several characteristics, e.g., A primate is
a mammal (The class mammal has the member primates). Examples like those in (18) do not
describe a specific inalienable characteristic of the painting; rather, they classify the painting in
terms of many of its inalienable characteristics.
(18) a. That painting is an impressionist painting.

b. That painting has the attributes of an impressionist painting.
c. That painting is an example of impressionist art.
d. That painting is classified as impressionist.
e. That painting is included in the class, Impressionist Art.
The COMPONENTIAL and TYPOLOGICAL relationships, like all locative and possessive
relationships, each have two elements so that we propose the following four themes:
(19) COMPONENTIAL1: the whole (holonym) in a part–whole relationship.
a. A ROOM has a ceiling.

b. A HOUSE has a roof.
(20) COMPONENTIAL2: the part (meronym) in a part–whole relationship.
a. A CEILING is part of a room.

b. A ROOF is part of a house.
(21) TYPOLOGICAL1: the class (hypernym) in a member–class relationship.
a. The class MAMMAL contains primates.

b. The class BIRD contains robins.
Chapter Five 319
(22) TYPOLOGICAL2: the member (hyponym) in a member–class relationship.
a. PRIMATES are mammals.

b. ROBINS are a type of bird.
Since the relationships may involve either inalienable or alienable characteristics and nonpossession
as well as possession, we have the sixteen relationships specified in Figure Eight.
FIGURE EIGHT: CLASSIFICATORY THEMATIC RELATIONS
–EXT +EXT
COMPONENTIAL1 COMPONENTIAL2 TYPOLOGICAL1 TYPOLOGICAL2
+PRX An arm is A BODY AN ARM is a body A penguin is A BIRD. A PENGUIN is a bird.

–DSJ PART. part.
–CNJ
+PRX The neck is not part of THE NECK is not part A penguin is A A PENGUIN is a
+DSJ THE HEAD. of the head. NONFLIER. nonflier.
+CNJ
–PRX A fern is part of A A FERN is part of a John is a SMOKER. JOHN is a smoker.

–DSJ BOUQUET. bouquet.
–CNJ
–PRX Puerto Rico is not part PUERTO RICO is not John is a JOHN is a nonsmoker.
+DSJ of the UNITED part of the United NONSMOKER.
+CNJ STATES. States.
Notice that any particular characteristic of an object might be expressed in several different ways.
For example, in (23a), black is treated as an inalienable characteristic while in (23b) it is treated as
a class.
(23) a. ATTRIBUTIVE: He is black.

b. TYPOLOGICAL: He is a black.
Similarly, in (24a) poor is treated as an alienable characteristic; in (24b) it is treated as a class.
(24) a. ASSOCIATIVE: He is poor.

b. TYPOLOGICAL: The poor need assistance.
Since the same characteristic can fit more than one of our proposed thematic relations, it might
appear that the system we have described is unnecessarily redundant or complex. But this is not the
case. Different individuals classify and define the same things in numerous, diverse ways. For
320 Chapter Five
example, one can classify United States judges as members of a particular branch of government or
as nonmembers of other branches:
(25) a. Judges are part of the judicial branch of government.

b. The judicial branch of government includes judges.
(26) a. Judges are not part of the legislative branch of government.

b. The legislative branch of government does not include judges.
Further, some speakers may view (25) as an INALIENABLE classification, others as ALIENABLE,
and these particular assignments are relatively stable. Consider the possible assignments when
attempting to classify a word like teenager. Assignments into different cells of the figures above
is often a matter of personal beliefs, habit and experience. For example, in a random poll, it was
found that most students in an introductory linguistics class did not view the neck as part of the
head; however, several did, some with great conviction: “Well, after all, the neck goes with the head
in decapitation,” one student remarked ominously.
Lastly, observe that care must be taken in comparing meanings. For example, the assignment of the
number B to the class of irrational numbers and the description of an individual as an irrational
person do not employ the same meaning of irrational:
(27) a. TYPOLOGICAL: Pi (B) is irrational.

b. CIRCUMSTANTIAL: John is irrational.
The feature opposition [±DIMENSIONAL] is the last semantic feature we will consider. This
opposition, in addition to the others discussed previously, will figure prominently in our discussion
of semantic networks below.
5.2 THE PERCEPTUAL BASIS OF SEMANTICS.
Our discussion of semantics has centered on the hypothesis that thematic relations such as
EFFECTIVE, AFFECTIVE, ELATIVE, ILLATIVE, etc. are actually categorial labels for
constellations of semantic features. Each one of the semantic features can be precisely defined in
terms of human (or machine) perception. Given this approach, the use of one thematic marker
(preposition, postposition, grammatical case, etc.) for a variety of thematic relations can be
attributed to the presence of identical features in those relations.
This approach overcomes the loss of descriptive adequacy that the other theories of case relations
mentioned in Chapter One have shared. In those systems, the common features associated with
thematic relations are not expressible, and it becomes an accident that the same marker is used
across relations. Further, as we saw, there was a loss of explanatory adequacy as well.
Chapter Five 321
The theory outlined and justified above overcomes these deficiencies. In addition to explicating the
cross–categorial uses of thematic markers, the semantic features serve as the basis of a knowledge
representation system. As Figures One, Two, Three, and Four reveal, different clusters of features
define different thematic relations. A feature cluster such as [+PST, –TMP, –DIM, –EXT, +FST,
+PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ] has the following meanings:
(28) a. +PST POSITIONAL INVOLVING LOCATION

b. –TMP TEMPORAL LOCATION IN SPACE, NOT TIME
c. –DIM NONDIMENSIONAL NOT CONCERNED WITH MEASUREMENT
d. –EXT NONEXTENSIONAL PINPOINTED LOCATION
e. +FST FIRST ORDER LOCATION RELATIVE TO POINT, LINE,
OR SURFACE
f. +PRX PROXIMAL INVOLVING CONTACT
g. –DSJ NONDISJUNCTURAL NOT EMPHASIZING PARTING
h. –CNJ NONCONJUNCTURAL NOT EMPHASIZING JOINING
Thus, the cluster of features in (28) defines the relation LOCATIVE1 (see Figure One on Page 27)
realized in English in such phrases as on walls or on Mars as they would occur in sentences like
Pictures are found on walls and Martians are found on Mars.
Changing one or more feature specifications produces different thematic relations as follows:
(29) [+PST, +TMP, +DIM, –EXT, +FST, +PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ] defines expressions like on
Sunday (still LOCATIVE1) as it might occur in a sentence like Church services often occur
on Sunday.
(30) [+PST, –TMP, –DIM, –EXT, –FST, +PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ] defines expressions like in water
(LOCATIVE2), in sentences like Fish are found in water.
(31) [–PST, –TMP, –DIM, –EXT, –FST, +PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ] defines expressions like in Latin
(ATTRIBUTIVE), which underlie sentences like The poem is in Latin.
(32) [–PST, –TMP, +DIM, –EXT, –FST, +PRX, –DSJ, –CNJ] defines COMPONENTIAL2
expressions like A wing is part of a bird which underlie sentences like All birds have
wings.
As these examples show, sets of semantic features specify individual thematic relations. On a higher
level of organization, that of knowledge representation, sets of thematic relations can be used to
construct a semantic network.
322 Chapter Five
5.3 SEMANTIC NETWORKS.
As we saw briefly in Section 1.12 (Page 56), semantic networks consist of nodes and links. For
example, they might contain a node FISH–1 (‘cold–blooded aquatic vertebrate’) and FISH–2
(‘attempt to catch FISH–1’). The node FISH–1 is connected to the node BODY_OF_WATER–1
(‘a body of water’) by a LOCATIVE2 link, thereby expressing the fact that fish are found in water.
FISH–1 is also connected to TROUT–1 by a TYPOLOGICAL2 link indicating that one type of fish
is a trout. Further, since TROUT–1 is a type of FISH–1, TROUT–1 “inherits” the LOCATIVE2
link to BODY_OF_WATER–1; thus, TROUT–1 are found in BODY_OF_WATER–1.5
The difficulty with semantic networks available in the literature (e.g., Fahlman 1979, Miller 1990,
Miller and Fellbaum 1992) is that they lack independent criteria for specifying what can be a link
in a network. As we saw in Chapter One, this is not true of the present system. Each link in the
network can be defined as a cluster of semantic features, that is, as a thematic relation; and each
node is no more that a sum of the links it has to other nodes. For example, consider (33), (34), and
(35), where each arrow indicates a pointer (link) from one node in a network to another node, and
where the thematic relation left of the arrow names the pointer.6
NODE ONE POINTER NODE TWO
(33) a. LIVING_THING–1 ––TYP2 ––> ENTITY–1

b. LIVING_THING–1 ––EFC ––> REPRODUCE–1
c. LIVING_THING–1 ––EFC ––> INGEST–1
d. LIVING_THING–1 ––AFC ––> DIE–1
e. LIVING_THING–1 ––AFC ––> GROW–1
f. LIVING_THING–1 ––IPS ––> LIFE–1
The above list encodes the information that a LIVING_THING–1, which is a type of ENTITY–1,
is an agent (EFC) of REPRODUCE–1 and INGEST–1, experiences (AFC) DIE–1 and GROW–1,
and is an inalienable possessor (IPS) of LIFE–1.
(34) a. ANIMAL–1 ––TYP2 ––> LIVING_THING–1

b. VERTEBRATE–1 ––TYP2 ––> ANIMAL–1
c. MAMMAL–1 ––TYP2 ––> VERTEBRATE–1
d. PRIMATE–1 ––TYP2 ––> MAMMAL–1
e. ANIMAL–1 ––EFC ––> LOCOMOTE–1
f. ANIMAL–1 ––EFC ––> SLEEP–1
g. ANIMAL–1 ––EFC ––> SENSE–1
h. ANIMAL–1 ––IPS ––> SPONTANEITY–1
i. ANIMAL–1 ––APS ––> HOME–1
The above list encodes the information that an ANIMAL–1, which is a type of LIVING_THING–1,
subsumes several subclasses, is an agent (EFC) of LOCOMOTE–1, SLEEP–1 and SENSE–1, and
inalienably possesses (IPS) SPONTANEITY–1 and alienably possesses (APS) HOME–1.
Chapter Five 323
(35) a. HUMAN–1 ––TYP2 ––> PRIMATE–1
b. HUMAN–1 ––EFC ––> SPEAK–1
c. HUMAN–1 ––EFC ––> WRITE–1
d. HUMAN–1 ––EFC ––> THINK–1
e. HUMAN–1 ––EFC ––> USE_TOOLS–1
f. HUMAN–1 ––EFC ––> REASON–1
g. HUMAN–1 ––AFC ––> EMOTE–1
h. HUMAN–1 ––IPS ––> LANGUAGE–1
i. HUMAN–1 ––IPS ––> KINSHIP–1
j. HUMAN–1 ––IPS ––> RACE–1
k. HUMAN–1 ––APS ––> JOB–1
l. HUMAN–1 ––APS ––> SPOUSE–1
m. HUMAN–1 ––APS ––> CLOTHING–1
n. HUMAN–1 ––APS ––> ETHICS–1
o. HUMAN–1 ––APS ––> NAME–1
p. HUMAN–1 ––APS ––> TOOL–1
The above list encodes the information that a HUMAN–1, which is a type of ANIMAL–1, is an
agent (EFC) of SPEAK–1, WRITE–1, THINK–1, USE_TOOLS–1, and REASON–1, experiences
(AFC) EMOTE–1, inalienably possesses (IPS) LANGUAGE–1, KINSHIP–1, and RACE–1, and
alienably possesses (APS) JOB–1, SPOUSE–1, CLOTHING–1, ETHICS–1, NAME–1 and
TOOL–1.7
The lists in (33) ) (35) are intended to encode information as people do; therefore, there are apparent
redundancies. Notice for example that (35) specifies that humans own (APS) and use (EFC) tools.
It is certainly possible for humans to use tools but not own any, e.g., some of one’s neighbors. It
is also possible for humans to own tools but never use any of them.8
More importantly, the information in examples like (35), which concerns the things humans can do,
own, experience, use, etc., is not the type of information one normally finds in on–line semantic
networks, which are primarily driven by COMPONENTIAL (HASA) and TYPOLOGICAL (ISA)
links. Yet, the information in examples like (35) is crucial to developing a parser that can
understand the ordinary use of language. Although people immediately realize that even a simple
statement such as John killed the bug concerns a rather trivial and unremarkable event, computers
do not.
5.4 LEXICAL ENTRIES.
Given the typology of predicates developed in Chapter Two, let us now try to specify the form of
a lexical entry, i.e., dictionary definition, for a predicate more precisely. As an example, consider
again the verb drop.
The verb drop is associated with four themes typical of movement verbs: the patient (EFFECTIVE
324 Chapter Five
or EFC) dropped the food (ASSOCIATIVE or ASC) from the plate (ELATIVE or ELA) onto the
floor (ILLATIVE or ILL). Each of these themes fulfills a specific grammatical function slot. Given
the choice of grammatical voice, it is possible to predict which themes will fill which slots. Using
the terminology discussed above in connection with Figure Five, the SUBJECT is EFC and the
PCOMP (primary complement) is ASC. Two secondary complements are also possible with drop:
ELA and ILL. Since drop has no specific ORIENTATION, each SCOMP is optional and their order
is free when they both occur. This is the information necessary to account for the transitive or
causative use of drop in the active voice. The same information can be specified in a passive
sentence like the food was dropped from the plate onto the floor by the patient.9
Additionally, in the active, there are two other uses of drop. One is the intransitive use in the food
dropped from the plate onto the floor. In this use, the ASC theme has been promoted to grammatical
subject and the EFC theme is obligatorily demoted to NULL (*the food dropped by the patient,
where by the patient is intended to be EFC, not ADE (ADESSIVE)).
Lastly, drop has a transitive use where the PCOMP is an understood reflexive in the patient dropped
(himself) onto the bed in exhaustion. Thus, drop can occur in the sentences in (36).
(36) a. ACTIVE VERB; EFC SUBJECT; ASC PCOMP:

The patient (EFC) dropped the food (ASC) from the tray (ELA) onto the bed (ILL).
b. ACTIVE VERB; ASC SUBJECT; NO POSSIBLE PCOMP:

The food (ASC) dropped from the tray (ELA) onto the bed (ILL).
c. ACTIVE VERB; EFC SUBJECT; UNDERSTOOD REFLEXIVE PCOMP:

The patient (EFC) dropped onto the bed (ILL).
d. PASSIVE VERB; ASC SUBJECT:

The food (ASC) was dropped from the tray (ELA) onto the bed (ILL) by the patient
(EFC).
In English, SUBJECT and PCOMP typically have the syntactic structure of a noun phrase (N3).
Secondary complements generally have the structure of prepositional phrases (P3); however, other
structures like adjectival, participial and adverbial phrases also frequently occur (we made it too
long; he kept his spine erect; they put the luggage aboard; it sent him reeling; she distributed the
information locally. As we have seen, prepositions are a member of a larger syntactic category,
CHARACTERIZER, that includes adjectives, participles, and adverbs, among others. Therefore,
we can represent the structure of an SCOMP generally as C3.
To form a lexical entry that accounts for the sentences in (36) and other information relevant to the
verb drop, suppose that we construct a semantic network around the node DROP–1. This node has
a word sense roughly meaning ‘descend from a higher location to a lower one.’ Each of the pointers
connected to this node would then specify the general and idiosyncratic information that an entry
must include for the verb drop in English.
Chapter Five 325
We can encode the syntactic information in (36) in a LISP function called THEME, which specifies
the thematic relation of the phrases filling each of the grammatical function slots, SUBJECT,
PCOMP, and SCOMP. Thus, this function constructs the portion of the knowledge base that relates
a word sense to its thematic components. Each instance of the function THEME connects the sense
DROP–1 to a grammatical function like SUBJECT, a specific theme like EFC, and a syntactic
structure like N3. In addition, a specification is given as to whether the theme must be instantiated
syntactically or not. In the former category, we have verbs like put which require both an overt
PCOMP and an overt SCOMP; in the latter, we have verbs like rush and read which have both an
optional PCOMP and an optional SCOMP:
(37) a. He put the computer into his office.

b. *He put the computer.
c. *He put into his office.
d. *He put.
(38) a.. He rushed the children out of the house.

b. He rushed the children.
c. He rushed out of the house.
d. He rushed.
(39) a. He read the story to the children.

b. He read the story.
c. He read to the children.
d. He read.
Notice that verbs like rush and read have an understood object when the PCOMP is not overt;
however, the understood object is different. With verbs like rush, the object is understood
reflexively, i.e., an example like (38c) is interpreted as John rushed himself out of the house and,
though somewhat awkward, the object can, in fact, be realized as an overt reflexive. On the other
hand, with verbs like read, the missing object is understood elliptically as some reading material (cf.
hum, study and similar verbs discussed in Levin 1993: 33).
To account for these variation, the function THEME includes a specification as to whether the
thematic relation is required (R), omissible and interpreted reflexively when absent (O), or
understood (U = Understood). Lastly, the function THEME includes a list of prepositions associated
with each thematic relation.10 Consider the following examples for the verb drop:11
(40) a. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SUBJECT EFFECTIVE N3 R BY–1))

b. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 PCOMP ASSOCIATIVE N3 O WITH–1))
c. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP1 ILLATIVE C3 U INTO–1 IN–1 ONTO–1 ON–1))
d. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP2 ELATIVE C3 U FROM–1 OUT_OF–1 OFF_OF–1))
Much of the information in (40) is specified by redundancy rules; that is, it is not specifically listed
in pointers for DROP–1. For example, all movement verbs are connected with a GOAL theme and
326 Chapter Five
a SOURCE theme, at least implicitly; however, which one fills the SCOMP slot(s) depends on the
verb. We have called this ORIENTATION. Further, verbs with pointers to EFC and ASC themes
always have passive as a syntactic option. In the active, the EFC theme is subject; in the passive the
ASC theme is subject. Also, in the active voice, a SUBJECT is N3 and R, a PCOMP is N3 and R,
and an SCOMP is C3 and U. Lastly, the prepositions associated with themes are predictable, so they
need not be specifically mentioned. Taking these generalities as the unmarked instances, the
function THEME for DROP–1 only needs to specify (41).12
(41) a. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 NIL EFC))

b. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 NIL ASC NIL O))
c. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP [+PST]))
Note that (41c) simply contains the feature [+PST] meaning that DROP–1 is a [+PST] predicate with
no specific ORIENTATION. Further, there is no (41d) at all, analogous to (40d). Since motion
verbs always have a SOURCE and a GOAL, if SCOMP1 is filled with a SOURCE, then SCOMP2
will be filled with a GOAL and vice versa.
Sometimes, the head of a thematic relation must be a noun of a particular kind. For example, an
EFC theme is generally either AGENT–1 or AGENT–2 as follows:
(42) a. AGENT–1: humans, intelligent machines, animals, and place names and businesses.
1. The boy/robot/dog dropped the food.

2. Moscow/IBM dropped the plan.
b. AGENT–2: all the above except animals.
1. John/the robot/Moscow/IBM said the rumor was false.

2. *The dog said the rumor was false.
Assuming that an EFC is AGENT–1 unless specified, only a verb like say would have to have a
THEME CONSTRAINT (TC) attached to its EFC. We can specify this with the function TC which
connects a specific constraint to a theme and a word sense, as follows:
(43) (TC ‘(SAY–1 EFC TYP AGENT–2))
This expression says that the EFFECTIVE theme of SAY–1 must itself have a TYP
(TYPOLOGICAL) link to some node that can be an AGENT–2, i.e., it must be a human, an
intelligent machine, a place name or a business. Since DROP–1 lacks a TC like (43), its EFC is
AGENT–1.13
In addition to THEME and TC, we can add the function SPEC, which identifies the word sense as
IGR (nonstative) or CGR (stative) and constructs the spectrum specification, giving the inalienable
triplet followed by the alienable triplet, as follows:
Chapter Five 327
(44) (SPEC ‘(DROP–1 IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA ASC ILL)))
In the case of DROP–1, much of this information is also predictable given other pointers. For
example, we know that DROP–1 is IGR (nonstative) because it has a pointer to EFC (41a). Further,
since (41c) contains [+PST], and DROP–1 is a prototypical motion verb, we can assume the entire
alienable triplet, (ELA ASC ILL), to be the unmarked condition.
When a FORM–2 change occurs in the spectrum specification, then that FORM–2 must be specified.
For example, as we have seen, WAX–1 transfers SHINE–1 idiosyncratically, as well as some ASC
(the substance used to wax):
(45) (SPEC ‘(WAX–1 IGR (EFC SHINE–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
Notice that the only information in (45) that cannot be inferred from general principles is the fact
that the inalienable SCT is SHINE–1. The rest of the spectrum specification follows general
principles discussed in our typology of predicates, given the themes associated with WAX–1 in (46),
where AFR stands for the AFFERENTIAL or recipient theme as before.
(46) a. (THEME ‘(WAX–1 SUBJECT EFC))

b. (THEME ‘(WAX–1 PCOMP ASC))
c. (THEME ‘(WAX–1 SCOMP1 AFR))
Given this outline, let us now examine in a stepwise fashion how we can move from a complete
specification of pointers to a system where most pointers can be eliminated via general principles.
5.5 PROMOTION AND DEMOTION.
In English and many other languages, the thematic relations associated with any given predicate can
frequently assume varying syntactic functions (SUBJECT, PCOMP, etc.). For example, predicates
can often occur in a grammatical voice other than the active, and different voices require different
syntactic functions for themes (he dropped the food versus the food was dropped by him). Some
predicates allow varying syntactic function without changing grammatical voice. This is the case
with the verb drop which allows its ASC theme to occur as the grammatical direct object (the
transitive use) or as the grammatical subject (the intransitive use) when there is no expressed EFC
theme. Examples include the following where by him is intended to be an EFC, not ADE:
(47) a. He dropped the food./The food dropped (*by him).

b. He broke the jar./The jar broke (*by him).
c. He liquefied the metal./The metal liquefied (*by him).
We have stipulated the following hierarchical order for the themes occurring in a theme list, by
convention.14
328 Chapter Five
(48) a. SUBJECT
b. PCOMP
c. SCOMP (designated theme is SCOMP1; cf. (40) and (41))
d. MOD
Given this syntactic function hierarchy, we find that themes can be promoted up the hierarchy or
demoted down the hierarchy.15 In English, one common instance of a PROMOTION/DEMOTION
class occurs with the verb break: the ASC can be promoted up the hierarchy from PCOMP to
SUBJECT and any EFC or INS relations must be demoted to NULL, i.e., they cannot occur:16
(49) a. Bill broke the jar (with the hammer).

b. The jar broke.
c. *The jar broke by Bill. (where Bill is EFC)
d. *The jar broke with the hammer. (where hammer is INS)
For the present, let us call the above alternation between (49a) and (49b)
PROMOTION/DEMOTION CLASS 1 or PD1 for short. We might record the fact that a word sense
like DROP–1 or BREAK–1 belongs to the syntactic class PD1 with the LISP function LINK, as
follows:17
(50) (LINK ‘(DROP–1 SYNCLASS PD1))
Whether or not any particular verb allows promotion of the ASC in the active appears to be highly
idiosyncratic, even for verbs with very close meanings:18
(51) a. They dropped/lowered/lifted/raised the trays/prices.

b. *The trays/prices lowered/lifted/raised.
c. The trays/prices dropped.
(52) a. He broke/smashed/cracked/chipped/scratched the dish.

b. The dish broke/smashed/cracked/chipped.
c. *The dish scratched.
In addition to PD1, several other PD classes occur in English. The verb dry illustrates three of the
most common. This verb has the basic structure outlined in (53).
(53) He dried the water from the dishes with the towel.19
Syntactic Function Alienable Spectrum Theme Example

SUBJECT EFFECTIVE he
PCOMP SCT ASSOCIATIVE water
SCOMP SOURCE EFFERENTIAL dishes
GOAL AFFERENTIAL U
MOD INSTRUMENTAL towel
Chapter Five 329
The three PD classes to which dry belongs are illustrated in (54).
(54) PROMOTION/DEMOTION CLASSES (SYNTACTIC VARIATION)
a. PD2: SCOMP is promoted to PCOMP He dried the dishes.

b. PD3: SCOMP is promoted to SUBJECT The dishes are drying.
c. PD4: MOD is promoted to SUBJECT This towel can dry the dishes.
There are several problems with an account like the above which merely lists various PD classes for
predicates. First, within these classes, there are subclasses. Thus, in PD2, when the SCOMP is
promoted to PCOMP, the original PCOMP either may be demoted to SCOMP (55b) or demoted to
NULL (56c). Consider the following:
(55) a. They stripped the bark from the tree.

b. They stripped the tree of its bark.
c. ??They stripped the tree.
(56) a. He dried the water from the dishes.

b. *He dried the dishes of water.
c. He dried the dishes.
(57) a. He removed the skin from the orange.

b. *He removed the orange of its skin.
c. *He removed the orange. (wrong meaning)
In addition to the above, we have examples like the (58).
(58) a. They divested him of his clothes.

b. *They divested the clothes from him.
c. *They divested his clothes.
There are basically two ways of describing the verb divest. We could assume that the theme order
is just like the verbs in (55) – (57), where the PCOMP is the ASC theme. This assumption would
entail asserting that divest obligatorily has PD2 structure; otherwise the base form (58b) would be
allowed. Alternatively, we could assume that (58a) is the base form for divest, and simply not list
divest as PD2, that is, the PCOMP is the EFR theme with the structure N3 (no preposition), not the
ASC theme. Clearly, we would like a principled way of choosing between these options.
Second, as we noted above, themes can be incorporated into predicates.20 The most likely
nonpositional themes for verbal incorporation in English are those with the feature specification
[–PST, "DSJ, "CNJ, –FST], namely, ATTRIBUTIVE, ASSOCIATIVE, CIRCUMSTANTIAL, and
INSTRUMENTAL. We have the following pattern for incorporation, where " is the SCT and $ is
the GOAL or SOURCE:
330 Chapter Five
(59) a. transfer " to $ (make $ ")
b. transfer solidity to $ (makes $ solid)
c. solidify $
(60) a. transfer " from $

b. transfer masculinity from $
c. emasculate $
In these patterns, " is commonly ATTRIBUTIVE, ASSOCIATIVE, CIRCUMSTANTIAL, or

INSTRUMENTAL. Verbs with ATTRIBUTIVE incorporation include solidify, liquefy, inseminate,
emasculate, blind, etc.; those with ASSOCIATIVE incorporation include peel, defrock, cover, wrap,
furnish (a room), butter, shelve, etc.; CIRCUMSTANTIAL incorporation is illustrated in stutter,
shout, whisper, glide, dash, squint, glare, etc.; lastly, INSTRUMENTAL incorporation occurs in
paint, hammer, rake (a lawn), head (a ball), elbow, etc. Further, as we have seen, incorporation is
often quite abstract. For example, kill transfers DEATH–1, teach transfers KNOWLEDGE–1, and
wax transfers both SHINE–1 and WAX–1.
Third, in addition to incorporating the SCT directly into verbal semantic structure (actually, turning
the SCT into a verb), English has scores of idiomatic expressions which express similar ideas, but
do so periphrastically, most commonly with light verbs of very generalized meaning like give or
make: give a push, give a ride, give a hand; make friends with, make light of, make sure, etc. Thus,
the [–PST, "DSJ, "CNJ, –FST] themes form a natural class which participates regularly in a number
of productive processes. In fact, this class forms the SCT component of most spectrum
specifications.
As we have seen (Chapter Two), all predicates must be reduced to the spectrum specifications given
in Figure Five. Further, these are all variants of the general spectrum specification discussed above
and repeated here for convenience:
Predicates involving the four themes just discussed pinpoint this specification further as follows:
(62) ([+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, "DSJ, "CNJ, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST])
In short, the SCT component is most often the group of themes previously discussed and generalized
(ATTRIBUTIVE, ASSOCIATIVE, CIRCUMSTANTIAL, INSTRUMENTAL).21
The three difficulties noted above indicate that we need a more generalized way of accounting for
constructional alternatives than simply listing PD classes. Such lists fail to express underlying
regularities which can be expressed in terms of prototypes and redundancies, the subjects of the next
two sections.
Chapter Five 331
5.6 PROTOTYPES AND STRENGTH OF ASSOCIATION.
As we noted in Chapter One, the nonpositional thematic relations must be related to the thematic
ones, if only to account for the fact that the same set of markers appears for both in most of the
world’s languages. This is not to say that languages never distinguish the two sets (cf. the examples
from Newari on Page 10). In fact, forms like here/there/where are never used for nonpositional
relations, as the following pairs show.
(63) a. I know where he turned; it was here, into this street.

b. *I know where he turned; it was there, into a frog.
(64) a. I know where that chandelier hung; it was here, over this table.
b. *I know where that chandelier cost; it was here, over two dollars.
(65) a. I know where John decided; it was there, on the boat.

b. *I know where John decided; it was here, on this ring.
The distinction between [+PST] (literal) and [–PST] (metaphorical) uses of markers is not sharp.
A more realistic characterization must recognize a gradation from expressions that are invariably
considered [+PST] by speakers to those that never or rarely are. This same gradation or strength of
association operates in many areas of semantic categorization. For example, using a scale from 4
(most strength of association) to 0 (no strength of association), we might categorize nouns as
referring to a location in space in the following way:
(66) a. PST4: desert, planet

b. PST3: bed, office
c. PST2: eye, lettuce
d. PST1: law, phrase
e. PST0: some, the
This classification asserts that speakers primarily use the word desert to denote a place (i.e., a desert
is a dry sandy place), whereas the word law is rarely used to signify a place (cf. It is stated in the
law), and the word some (for all practical purposes) never is. Exactly how many numbers are
needed in such a scale is an empirical matter. For our purposes, a five–point scale is adequate. The
assignment of nouns and other expressions to specific classes will also depend on investigation:
clearly, all speakers will not agree with the judgments in (66).
Psychologists like Eleanor Rosch (1973, 1977) have researched such categorizations and noted that
speakers formulate prototypes, that is, typical examples of categories. For example, most American
English speakers feel that the robin is the prototypical bird, so a sentence like A robin is sort of a
bird is generally considered very odd.22 This contrasts with sentences like A bat is sort of a bird,
which seem acceptable. On the basis of such work on prototypes, one might propose, the following
scale of “birdiness” for American English speakers:
332 Chapter Five
(67) a. BIRD4: robin
A robin is a bird.
*A robin is sort of a bird.
b. BIRD3: chicken
A chicken is a bird.
?A chicken is sort of a bird.
c. BIRD2: bat
*A bat is a bird.
A bat is sort of a bird.
d. BIRD1: kite
*A kite is a bird.
?A kite is sort of a bird.
e. BIRD0: hammer
*A hammer is a bird.
*A hammer is sort of a bird.
There are prototype scales available in the literature for a number of categories (Battig and
Montague 1969). As we will see below, strength of association is also necessary for the links that
connect nodes in a semantic network. Here, we will use the concept of prototype to categorize
various expressions containing positional markers. The progression we find along the PST–scale
moves from true positional expressions, those that denote a location ([PST4] and [PST3]), to
expressions of condition, circumstance, or manner ([PST1] and [PST0]), with [PST2] expressions
lying somewhere in between. For example, consider the following phrases, in particular, what
constitutes an appropriate response to the request made:
(68) a. [PST4]: live in Ann Arbor
1. As a location:
REQUEST: Please tell me where he lives.
RESPONSE: He lives in Ann Arbor.
2. As a manner or condition:
REQUEST: Please tell me how he lives.
*RESPONSE: He lives in Ann Arbor.
b. [PST3]: live in a pigsty (=live amid filth)
1. As a location:
RESPONSE: He lives in a pigsty.
Chapter Five 333
?RESPONSE: He lives in a pigsty.
RESPONSE: He lives like a pig.
c. [PST2]: live in luxury
1. As a location:
?RESPONSE: He lives in luxury.
RESPONSE: He lives in luxury.
RESPONSE: He lives like a king.
d. [PST1]: live on a budget
1. As a location:
*RESPONSE: He lives on a budget.
RESPONSE: He lives on a budget.
e. [PST0]: live on a shoestring
1. As a location:
*RESPONSE: He lives on a shoestring.
RESPONSE: He lives on a shoestring.
These examples are proffered to illustrate a progression from concrete expressions, with maximum
strength of association to location in space, to ever more figurative ones, where the strength of
association to true location diminishes. Notice, for example, that the answer He lives in a pigsty in
(68b1) does not supply the precise information requested, though it is an acceptable response.
The most concrete of the four types are the [PST4] relations. These are most concrete because they
can be verified by a human or machine vision system (He is on the roof). The most figurative of the
four are the [PST0] relations. These are the true idioms, that is, those expressions whose meaning
334 Chapter Five
cannot be derived from the (literal) meaning of their parts (He is on hand). Sometimes the same
phrase can be interpreted at either extreme. For example, He is on the wagon can refer to his actual
position or to his state of sobriety. Somewhere in between these extremes are the [PST3], [PST2],
and [PST1] relations.
[PST3] expressions are not completely metaphorical, because they co–occur with true positional
markers like here, there, where, etc. (I couldn’t possibly live here, in this pigsty or His hopes must
lie somewhere, but I don’t know where). Because they add more information than just position, they
cannot be consider [PST4]; hence, they have slightly less strength of association to position.
The difference between [PST4] and [PST3] expressions is also manifested in the wide variation
possible for the introductory preposition. The verb live in (68a) can be followed by virtually any
positional preposition including, on, under, behind, among, around, and so on. However, the
prepositions used in expressions like (68b) are highly idiosyncratic. In the case of an expression like
rest one’s hopes on, possibly the only other preposition than on that can be used is in; in the case
of live in a pigsty, the preposition seems invariable.
[PST2] and [PST1] expressions have a meaning that is more concrete than fully idiomatic, yet not
really positional. The meaning of such expressions can be deduced from the meanings of their parts,
and, more significantly, the force of the preposition used is still felt to the extent that related
prepositions can be substituted, albeit restrictively (live in/amidst luxury or live on/within/by a
budget). The difference between these two classes is that, while [PST2] expressions might
conceivably be used locatively, [PST1] cannot be used locatively except with great license. [PST1]
expressions are true expressions of circumstance or manner.
To integrate the five–point scale with the features we have been discussing, let us refer to
expressions that are [PST4], [PST3], or [PST2] as [+POSITIONAL], those that are [PST1] or [PST0]
as [–POSITIONAL].
The distinctions presented here are not always clear cut, and the degree to which speakers feel the
literal and/or positional sense of an expression varies. In my own speech, (69a) seems fine, but
(69b) does not.
(69) a. I’ll tell you where he’s living. He’s living in the lap of luxury in New York City.
b. *I’ll tell you where he’s living. He’s living on a shoestring in New York City.
Both of these examples contain idiomatic expressions, but only (69a) seems to be [+POSITIONAL].
Notice that the presence of a clear–cut positional expression like in New York City is not the
determining factor. We have examples like the following which contain more than one locative
expression:
(70) a. He’s living in New York City on a shoestring.

b. He’s living in New York City in a hovel.
Chapter Five 335
Notice also that the questioning associated with examples like (69b) actually calls for an expression
of manner:
(71) a. QUESTION: How can he afford to live in New York City?

b. RESPONSE: Certainly not on a shoestring.
Further, the borderline status of (69a), somewhere between true positional and true nonpositional,
i.e., [PST2], makes possible the following interchange:
(72) a. QUESTION: How is he living?

b. RESPONSE: In the lap of luxury.
Summarizing, we observe the following characteristics of the five phrase types in question:
(73) [PST4]: live in Ann Arbor
a. Allow positional questions words like where, from what place, etc.: I’ll tell you
where he lives; he lives in Ann Arbor. *Ann Arbor is what he lives in.
b. Allow positional adverbials like there, here, etc.: Does he live right there in Ann
Arbor?
c. Allow positional relatives, e.g., Ann Arbor is the only place in which he can live.
d. Allow free use of positional prepositions: He lives around/outside of/down in/over

by Ann Arbor.
e. Allow free use of directional phrases: He lives just east of Ann Arbor.
f. Do not allow expressions of manner: *The only way to live is in Ann Arbor.
(74) [PST3]: live in a pigsty (=live amid filth)
where he lives; he lives in a pigsty.
b. Allow positional adverbials like there, here, etc.: Does he live right there, in that
pigsty?
c. Marginally allow positional relatives, e.g., ?A pigsty is the only place in which he can
live.
d. Do not allow free use of positional prepositions: He lives in/*within/*amid a pigsty.

336 Chapter Five
e. Marginally allow use of directional phrases: ??He lives just east of a pigsty.
f. Often allow expressions of manner: The only way to live is in a pigsty.
(75) [PST2]: live in luxury
where he lives; he lives in luxury.
b. Do not freely allow positional adverbials like there, here, etc.: *Does he live right
there, I mean in luxury?
c. Do not allow positional relatives, e.g., *Luxury is the only place in which he can live.
d. Allow only limited variety of positional prepositions: live in/amid/amidst/within

luxury; *live out of/around/behind luxury; ?live beyond luxury.
e. Do not allow directional phrases: *He lives just south of luxury.
f. Allow expressions of manner: The only way to live is in luxury. (cf. The only way
to live is luxuriously.)
(76) [PST1]: live on a budget
a. Do not allow positional questions words like where, from what place, etc.: *I’ll tell
you where he lives; he lives on a budget.
b. Do not allow positional adverbials like there, here, etc.: *Does he live right there,
I mean on that budget?
c. Do not allow positional relatives, e.g., *A budget is the only place on which he can
live.
d. Allow only limited variety of positional prepositions: live on/within/by a budget;

*live out of/around/behind a budget. (cf. live according to a budget).
e. Do not allow directional phrases: *He lives just south of a budget.
f. Allow expressions of manner: The only way to live is on a budget.
(77) [PST0]: live on a shoestring
a. Do not allow positional questions words like where, from what place, etc.: *I’ll tell
you where he lives; he lives on a shoestring.
Chapter Five 337
b. Do not allow positional adverbials like there, here, etc.: *Does he live right there,
I mean on that shoestring?
c. Do not allow positional relatives, e.g., *A shoestring is the only place on which he
can live.
d. Do not allow even limited variety of positional prepositions: *live upon a shoestring.
e. Do not allow directional phrases: *He lives just south of a shoestring.
f. Allow expressions of manner: One way I don’t want to live is on a shoestring.
5.7 LEXICAL REDUNDANCIES: MOTION VERBS.
Let us now turn our attention to comparing some lexical entries for related words to see how the
feature space we have proposed will allow us to reduce many facts to redundancy. As examples,
we will consider five classes of motion verbs beginning with insert and including inject, propel,
lunge, burst, enter, go, extract, exit, and the like.
Thus far, we have seen that lexical items have pointers to a spectrum specification and to individual
themes which make up its theme list. Thus, a verb like drop has pointers to the following (see (44)
and (40)):
(78) DROP–1
a. (SPEC ‘(DROP–1 IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA ASC ILL)))

b. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SUBJECT EFC N3 R))
c. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 PCOMP ASC N3 O))
d. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP1 ILL C3 U))
e. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP2 ELA C3 U))
To simplify the presentation, let use assume the order of pointers is spectrum specification,
SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP1, SCOMP2. For example, as a first approximation that includes
redundancies, we will represent a verb such as insert as follows:
(79) INSERT–1
a. IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL)

b. EFC (AGENT–1) N3 R
c. ASC N3 R
d. ILL ([+PST]) C3 U (INTO–1 IN–1)
e. ELA_ABL ([+PST]) C3 U (OUT_OF–1 FROM–1)
338 Chapter Five
The notation ELA_ABL, containing themes connected by an underscore, is meant, as above, to
abbreviate the fact that more than one theme is possible in the slot. Actually, this is nothing more
than an extension of our usual abbreviatory symbols because all categories or category groups are
constellations of features. The feature constellation that specifies either ELA and ABL themes is
[+PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, ±PRX]. The parentheses in (79b), (79d) and (79e) contain predictable details
about the preceding element and will be removed directly.
From the entry (79) and the general facts regarding IGR Reduction we derive the following:
(80) Insert has a required (R) ASSOCIATIVE theme in PCOMP slot in the active. That noun
is what is moved in the performance of insertion. The head noun in the ILL theme is both
alienable and inalienable GOAL, that is, the recipient of the ASC. Since this GOAL is
ILL, the head noun is typically a [+PST] noun, which means it regularly (without
metaphor) must have a high strength of association to the feature POSITIONAL ([PST4],
[PST3], or [PST2]). Further, since ILL is [–DSJ, +CNJ, –FST], this noun must be a
container whose interior space (FORM–1) will be displaced by exactly the space occupied
by the ASC. The result of insertion is that the ILL contains the ASC.
An entry like (79) contains many redundancies which can be derived from several generalizations
as follows:
(81) a. The presence of POSITIONAL themes in the spectrum specification means the verb
is POSITIONAL; this, together with the presence of IGR, means insert is a
movement verb.
b. The presence of a [–DISJUNCTURAL] theme in SCOMP1 slot indicates GOAL

ORIENTATION (insert); the presence of [+DISJUNCTURAL] in this position
would denote SOURCE ORIENTATION (extract).
c. In GOAL ORIENTATION, the theme in INALIENABLE GOAL slot is the same

entity as the theme in ALIENABLE GOAL slot. Thus, in insert, the ILL is also
AFC. In SOURCE ORIENTATION, the theme in INALIENABLE GOAL slot is the
same entity as the theme in ALIENABLE SOURCE slot. Thus, in extract, the ELA
is also AFC. In the transference of an object, the FORM–1 of both the GOAL and
the SOURCE is affected, but predicates generally stress one over the other. In insert
the ALIENABLE GOAL is stressed; in extract, the ALIENABLE SOURCE. The
key to ORIENTATION is which theme is mentioned in the theme list. Insert
mentions ILL; extract mentions ELA.
d. The unmarked form for the theme in PCOMP slot is N3, and it is Required. Other
possibilities are marked, which means they must be specifically listed, e.g., rely on
has a C3 PCOMP.
Chapter Five 339
e. Transitive IGR verbs allow PASSIVE.
If PASSIVE occurs, then ASC is a Required N3 subject, and EFC is an Optional C3

governed by the preposition BY–1 (The key was inserted by the janitor).
f. EFC (EFFECTIVE) subjects in the active:
1. Are AGENT–1 unless otherwise specified, e.g., AGENT–2.

2. Are N3.
3. Are Required.
g. ASC (ASSOCIATIVE) complements:
1. Are [–PST].
2. Are N3.
3. Are R(equired).
h. ILL (ILLATIVE) complements:
1. Are [+PST], generally [PST4].

2. Are C3.
3. Are U(nderstood) if not specifically listed.
4. Are specifically listed only in verbs with GOAL ORIENTATION.
5. Are governed by the prepositions INTO–1 or IN–1.
i. ELA (ELATIVE) complements:
1. Are [+PST], generally [PST4].

2. Are C3.
3. Are U(nderstood) if not specifically listed.
4. Are specifically listed only in verbs with SOURCE ORIENTATION.
5. Are governed by the prepositions OUT_OF–1 or FROM–1.
Minus all redundancies, the entry for insert is as follows:23
(82) INSERT–1
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL))

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. ILL
340 Chapter Five
Given (82) and the general principles described above, we account for the following:
(83) a. The janitor inserted the key into the lock.

b. *The janitor inserted.
c. The janitor inserted the key.
d. *The janitor inserted into the lock.
e. *The janitor inserted the lock with the key.
f. *The janitor inserted the lock.
The data in (83) contrast considerably with other verbs of similar GOAL ORIENTATION. Consider
inject:
(84) a. The physician injected the dye into the patient.

b. *The physician injected.
c. The physician injected the dye.
d. *The physician injected into the patient.
e. The physician injected the patient with the dye.
f. The physician injected the patient.
Notice that inject allows the ASC theme to appear with the full ASC preposition with (84e).
Previously, we had attempted to account for such alternations with PD classes (Section 5.5 on Page
327). In an attempt to generalize such alternations, let us name the various parts individually. In
the present example, let us account for the possibility of the SCT occurring in SCOMP slot by
including a pointer from INJECT–1 to the specification AFC_PCOMP. The redundancies associated
with AFC_PCOMP are given in (85).
(85) AFC_PCOMP allows a syntactic variation in which (see Figure Five):
a. The AFC (["DSJ, –"CNJ]; ILL, ELA, etc.) incorporates its preposition into the
predicate and becomes a PCOMP, i.e., N3 in direct object slot.
b. The SCT ([–PST, –FST]; ASC, NASC, etc.) appears, at least understood, as a C3
governed by the unmarked SCT preposition as specified in Section 2.7 (Page 95):
with for ASC, from for NASC, of for ASC.
Given (81) and (85), a nonredundant lexical entry for inject is the following:
(86) INJECT–1

b. EFC
c. ASC (FLUID–1)
d. ILL
e. AFC_PCOMP
Chapter Five 341
PASSIVE is possible in (86) because inject is a transitive IGR verb. If PASSIVE occurs without
AFC_PCOMP, then (81e) applies. If PASSIVE occurs with AFC_PCOMP, then ILL is the
Required N3 subject since that is in PCOMP slot.
The large measure of predictability associated with the above examples suggests that we can
establish thematic hierarchies (Jackendoff 1972) along the following lines :
(87) Active Voice Hierarchy; INALIENABLE POSSESSION ([+PROXIMAL]).
a. [–EXT, +FST, +PRX, +DSJ, –CNJ] (EFC) >

b. [–EXT, –FST] (ATT, ASC, RES, CPS, TRM, ORG) >
c. [–EXT, +FST, +PRX, –DSJ, +CNJ] (AFC) >
d. [+EXT]
(88) Active Voice Hierarchy; ALIENABLE POSSESSION ([–PROXIMAL]).
a. [–EXT, +FST, –PRX, "DSJ, –"CNJ] (EFR or AFR) >

c. [–EXT, +FST, –PRX, –"DSJ, "CNJ] (EFR or AFR) >
d. [+EXT]
The “>” in these hierarchies indicates rank: items to the left of “>” must be subject before those on
the right. The syntactic slots to be filled by these relations, respectively, and the order in which they
are filled is as follows:
(89) a. Subject.
b. Primary complement (complements in first posthead position, i.e., to the immediate

right of the verb)
1. Direct object.
2. Predicate nominative.
3. Prepositional complement.
c. Secondary complement (complements in second posthead position, i.e., to the

immediate right of the primary complement).
1. Object complement.
2. Indirect object.
d. Modifier.
The interpretation of (87) and (88) follows (89). If a verb occurs with a thematic relation from each
of the four groups (a, b, c & d), then EFC is subject, the SCT is primary complement, a relation from
“c” is secondary complement, and a relation from “d” is a modifier, e.g., The patient (EFC) dropped
342 Chapter Five
the food (SCT) onto the floor (ILL/AFC) accidentally (CIR). If there is an EFC relation and an overt
SCT relation, then, in the active, the EFC is made subject and the SCT is made object. If there is
no EFC relation and there is an overt SCT, then the SCT relation is made subject (The food dropped
onto the floor). If there is no overt SCT, then the AFC becomes object if there is an EFC (The
patient broke the glass) or the subject if there is no EFC (The glass broke). Any deviations from this
hierarchy are marked.
The difference between (87) and (88) is, of course, directly derivable from the difference between
INALIENABLE and ALIENABLE possession. The former deals with nonreciprocal transfer, so
that the direction of the action proceeds from the subject to the object when the verb is transitive;
the latter deals with reciprocal transfer, which proceeds in both directions from giver to receiver and
vice versa. In reciprocal transfer, the choice of subject is unpredictable: give must be marked for
EFR subject; take, for AFR subject. This derives from the fact that either party may potentially
initiate the trade (the giver or the receiver; the buyer or the seller). There is a dependency between
(88a) and (88c): if EFR is subject, then AFR is complement; if AFR is subject, then EFR is
complement.
Several other hierarchies interact with (87) and (88). One is the “Animacy Hierarchy” (Comrie
1981, Chapter Nine):
(90) human > animate > inanimate
This hierarchy specifies that human nouns are subjects before other animate nouns, and these before
any inanimate nouns. Therefore, if both EFC and EXP or both EFC and INS occur, then EFC must
be subject:
(91) a. Joe killed Bob by strangling him.

b. Joe killed Bob with a gun.
c. Joe killed Bob with a tarantula.
d. *Strangling killed Bob by Joe.
e. *A gun killed Bob by Joe. (where by Joe is EFC)
f. *A tarantula killed Bob by Joe. (where by Joe is EFC)
The above hierarchies work together to predict possible syntactic alternations (Levin 1993). For
example, verbs such as inject in (84) are AFC_PCOMP and, therefore, have two passives. If
AFC_PCOMP does not occur, then the ASC becomes the subject in the passive in accordance with
(81e) giving the dye was injected into the patient. If AFC_PCOMP does occur, then items in the
theme list are promoted and demoted within the hierarchy as follows: first, the SCT in PCOMP slot
in the theme list is demoted and occurs in a prepositional phrase (injected ___ with the dye); second,
to fill the gap, the SCOMP1 is promoted to PCOMP position and its preposition is incorporated into
the verb. This shift places the ILL phrase in direct object slot (posthead V1) making it possible for
the ILL phrase to be passivized (the patient was injected with the die).
Given these remarks, let us consider the various syntactic classes of motion verbs in English.
Chapter Five 343
Basically, motion verbs are subcategorized syntactically in terms of two parameters: (i) how the
ASC is realized, i.e., what the grammatical function and syntactic structure of the ASC are; and (ii)
how the GOAL or SOURCE is realized. Considering the ASC first, recall that an ASC is always
present in every spectrum specification; however, an ASC may or may not be realized syntactically
in the overt form of an individual sentence. Generally, if the ASC is overt, it is the PCOMP,
although it can be the SUBJECT as we have seen (They dropped the prices versus The prices
dropped). In all, we must distinguish the following five possibilities:
(92) a. The verb is transitive only, i.e., the ASC must be instantiated as PCOMP; the ASC
can be an overt reflexive (hurl meaning ‘throw forcefully’):24
1. *He hurled over the balcony.

2. He hurled her over the balcony.
3. He hurled himself over the balcony.
4. *He hurled.
b. The verb is intransitive, i.e., the ASC cannot be instantiated as PCOMP; the ASC is
understood as coreferential with the EFC SUBJECT; an overt GOAL or SOURCE
is required.
1. He lurched into the room.

2. *He lurched her into the room.
3. *He lurched himself into the room.
4. *He lurched.
c. The verb is intransitive, i.e., the ASC cannot be instantiated as PCOMP; the ASC is
understood as coreferential with the EFC SUBJECT; no overt GOAL or SOURCE
required.
1. He went to Detroit.
2. *He went her to Detroit.
3. *He went himself to Detroit.
4. He went.
d. The verb is transitive, i.e., the ASC must be instantiated as PCOMP; the ASC must
be an overt reflexive.
1. *He absented from the meeting.

2. *He absented her from the meeting.
3. He absented himself from the meeting.
4. *He absented.
344 Chapter Five
e. The verb is either transitive or intransitive, i.e., the ASC is optionally instantiated as
PCOMP; when the ASC is not overt, then the ASC is understood reflexively.
1. He withdrew from the competition.

2. He withdrew her from the competition.
3. He withdrew himself from the competition.
4. He withdrew.
Notice that we must distinguish verbs like lurch and go, on the one hand, from withdraw, on the
other: the former can never be transitive, i.e., have an overt ASC PCOMP, but the latter can. As
we saw previously in the case of the verb drop, when there is no overt ASC PCOMP and the
SUBJECT is EFC as in He dropped (himself) onto the bed in exhaustion, the omitted ASC is
understood reflexively. We have used the symbol “O” to designate a theme that can be omitted from
the overt form of a sentence and, when it is omitted, is interpreted reflexively (cf. (78)). We cannot
account for the syntax of verbs like lurch and go in the same way since these verbs do not have an
omissible PCOMP; they have no PCOMP at all.
Turning to the realization of the GOAL or SOURCE theme, the major parameter concerns whether
or not incorporation of the preposition governing the GOAL or SOURCE occurs. Basically, there
are three possibilities:
(93) a. Incorporation of the preposition is optional.
1. The enemy stormed into the city.

2. The enemy stormed the city.
b. Incorporation of the preposition is impossible.
1. He lunged into the room.

2. *He lunged the room.
c. Incorporation of the preposition is obligatory.
1. *He invaded into her privacy.

2. He invaded her privacy.
Examining the above distinctions in more detail, let us consider the following five classes of motion
verbs, classified in terms of the way the ASC is realized in the syntax, that is, in accordance with
the breakdown in (92).
In Class I, both the ASC and a GOAL or SOURCE are required, and the ASC may be reflexive or
nonreflexive; incorporation of the preposition is not possible. We have the data in (94) and (95) and
the sample entries minus redundancies in (96) and (97).
Chapter Five 345
(94) a. He propelled/hurled it into the prison.
b. He propelled/hurled himself into the prison.
c. *He propelled/hurled into the prison.
d. *He propelled/hurled the prison.
e. *He propelled/hurled it.
f. *He propelled/hurled.
(95) a. He wrenched/hurled it from the prison.

b. He wrenched/hurled himself from the prison.
c. *He wrenched/hurled from the prison.
d. *He wrenched/hurled the prison.
e. *He wrenched/hurled it.
f. *He wrenched/hurled.
(96) PROPEL–1

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. ILL R
(97) WRENCH–1

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. ELA R
The redundancies in (81f) and (81g) stipulate that a SUBJECT EFC and a PCOMP ASC are both
N3 and required; (81h) and (81i) stipulate that ILL and ELA themes are C3 and understood. Since
the verbs in Class I require an overt [+PST] theme, the entries for PROPEL–1 and WRENCH–1
contain an “R” after ILL and ELA, respectively. The former has GOAL ORIENTATION; the latter,
SOURCE ORIENTATION.
Class II has several subgroups. In all subgroups, the ASC is suppressed syntactically and
understood as coreferential with the SUBJECT. The distinctions among the subgroups depend on
how the GOAL or SOURCE is realized syntactically according to the breakdown in (93).
In the first subgroup of Class II, the GOAL or SOURCE preposition is optionally incorporated into
the verb. We have the following data:
346 Chapter Five
(98) a. *They stormed/charged it into the prison.
b. *They stormed/charged themselves into the prison.
c. They stormed/charged into the prison.
d. They stormed/charged the prison.
(99) a. *They fled/escaped it from the prison.

b. *They fled/escaped themselves from the prison.
c. They fled/escaped from the prison.
d. They fled/escaped the prison.
Notice that, in this subgroup, an overt ASC direct object (it or themselves, for example) is not
possible; rather, the ASC is always suppressed syntactically and understood as coreferential with
the SUBJECT EFC in accordance with the following generalization:
(100) COREFERENTIAL ASC INTERPRETATION (CAI):25
If the theme list of a POSITIONAL predicate with an EFC in SUBJECT slot does not
contain an ASC, then the ASC is coreferential with the EFC.
The generality in (100) is this: EFC subjects of movement verbs without an ASC direct object are
understood as acting upon or moving themselves. Sometimes, as we have seen, an overt reflexive
pronoun is possible, e.g., The paratroopers dropped (themselves) into the village to rescue the
civilians. However, because of (100), English has hardly any movement verbs requiring an overt
reflexive object, e.g., He absented himself/*Bill from the meeting. Other languages have many
reflexive movement verbs, e.g., French s’arrêter ‘to stop,’ s’asseoir ‘to sit down,’ etc. and Spanish
entrarse ‘to get in,’ escaparse ‘to run away,’ etc.
Turning to the matter of incorporation, observe that the syntactic class PREPOSITIONAL
INCORPORATION also need not be specifically mentioned in the entry since we can derive it from
other facts: any PST theme that is an N3, as opposed to P3 (prepositional phrase), has had its
preposition incorporated. We define prepositional incorporation as follows:
(101) PREPOSITIONAL INCORPORATION.
Suppression of a PST preposition so that a PST theme is syntactically realized as an N3

instead of a P3.
We can express PREPOSITIONAL INCORPORATION directly within the theme lists. Making use
of the morphosyntactic features presented in Chapter Three, we can encode the alternation between
a P3 (prepositional phrase) and N3 (noun phrase) with the feature cluster [–VBL, +ECH, +X1L,
±PRH], which we will abbreviate as P/N3. The first three features in the cluster distinguish P3
(either transitive prepositions or particles) and N3 (with a head that is a common noun, a proper
noun or a pronoun) from all other syntactic categories; the fourth feature distinguishes prepositions
([–PRH]) from nouns ([+PRH]). When a theme contains P/N3, instead of P3 or N3 specifically, it
Chapter Five 347
indicates that incorporation is optional. If the listing is N3, then incorporation is obligatory (see the
word enter below); if it is P3, then incorporation is not possible. Given these remarks, the entry for
charge is (101). 26
(102) CHARGE–1

b. EFC
c. ILL P/N3
There is a meaning difference between expressions containing incorporated prepositions (storm the
bastille) and the corresponding ones with the preposition overt (storm into the bastille). When the
preposition is incorporated, the phrase expresses a general GOAL ORIENTATION or SOURCE
ORIENTATION, whichever applies; when it is overt, the particular GOAL–type or SOURCE–type
is emphasized. Consider the following:
(103) a. He crossed (over) the bridge.

b. The arrow pierced (through) the target.
c. He climbed (up) the hill.
d. They passed (by) our house.
e. He fled (from) his assailant.
f. They swam (across) the channel.
If incorporation is optional, then two passives are sometimes possible, though judgments vary
among speakers:
(104) a. The prison was stormed.

The prison was stormed into.
b. Work can not be escaped.
?Work can not be escaped from.
c. ?This prison has never been escaped.
This prison has never been escaped from.
In the case of many verbs in this subgroup (charge, flee, escape, etc.) no ILL theme need occur, and
the unmarked specification “U” (understood conceptually when nonovert) applies (cf. (81h) and
(81i)):
(105) a. They charged.

b. They fled.
Other verbs in this group must have the ILL theme present:
(106) a. *They stormed. (but, cf. They stormed out.)

b. They stormed the castle.
348 Chapter Five
Therefore, storm has the following entry, where “R” means, as usual, that the ILL theme is required:
(107) STORM–1

b. EFC
c. ILL P/N3 R
In the second subgroup of Class II, the ASC is suppressed and understood via CAI, but incorporation
is not possible. Sometimes that PST phrase is Required; it is always at least Understood. The data
and entries are as follows:
(108) a. *He lunged/burst it into the prison.

b. *He lunged/burst himself into the prison.
c. He lunged/burst into the prison.
d. *He lunged/burst the prison.
(109) a. *He lunged/burst it from the prison.

b. *He lunged/burst himself from the prison.
c. He lunged/burst from the prison.
d. *He lunged/burst the prison.
(110) LUNGE–1
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL))

b. EFC
c. ["DSJ, –"CNJ, –FST, ±PRX] C3 R
(111) BURST–1
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA ASC ILL))

b. EFC
c. ["DSJ, –"CNJ, –FST, +PRX] C3 R
There are a number of idiosyncracies about these verbs that our system will allow us to express.
First, both verbs lack specific ORIENTATION; they can be oriented toward a GOAL or a SOURCE:
(112) a. Kramer lunged/burst into the room.

b. Kramer lunged/burst out of the room.
We indicate this by specifying the precise features in the SCOMP1 slot in (110) and (111), a
perfectly appropriate specification since all category labels like ILL in (107c) are, in fact,
abbreviations for feature clusters. Second, notice that both lunge and burst must have some PST
complement:
Chapter Five 349
(113) a. *Let’s lunge.
b. *He burst.
We indicate this constraint with “R” at the end of the SCOMP1 list, as above. Third, burst is a
[+PRX] predicate, whereas lunge is [±PRX]; therefore, burst allows only ELA and ILL in (111c),
whereas lunge allows either ELA_ABL or ILL_ALL (110c). These constraints reflect the following:
(114) a. He lunged forward./He lunged toward me.

b. *He burst forward./*He burst toward me.
c. He lunged away from his assailant.
d. *He burst away from his assailant.
Fourth, passive with these verbs is debatable and subject to idiosyncrasies: I was lunged at seems
possible; but *the prison was lunged into/from does not. Some speakers find burst fully intransitive
with no passive:
(115) a. *?The prison was burst into.

b. *The prison was burst.
Notice that specific markings like ["DSJ, –"CNJ, –FST, +PRX] for burst are used here to capture
the precise meanings of verbs, that is, the markings are not mere notational conveniences. The verb
burst, in all of its uses (He burst out of the house, She burst into song, etc.), involves an explosive
force moving outward from within and terminating in some place, condition, etc.; hence, *She burst
toward me is ungrammatical. The ORIENTATION is nonspecific; hence, She burst into tears and
She burst out crying are both possible.
In the third subgroup of Class II, the ASC is suppressed and understood via CAI; incorporation is
obligatory. We have the data in (116) and (117) and the sample entries in (118) and (119).
(116) a. *He entered/penetrated/invaded it into the prison.

b. *He entered/penetrated/invaded himself into the prison.
c. *He entered/penetrated/invaded into the prison.
d. He entered/penetrated/invaded the prison.
(117) a. *He exited/quit/left it from the prison.

b. *He exited/quit/left himself from the prison.
c. *He exited/quit/left from the prison. (cf. He exited from the left.)
d. He exited/quit/left the prison.
(118) ENTER–1

b. EFC
c. ILL N3
350 Chapter Five
(119) EXIT–1

b. EFC
c. ELA N3
The ordinary “U” with ILL (see 81h) is assumed allowing sentences like he entered laughing. The
specification N3 blocks both *he entered into the room and *the room was entered into, while
allowing the room was entered.
There is a use of the verb enter that parallels insert (cf. (82)). Consider the following data:
(120) a. The accountant entered the figures into the table.

b. *The accountant entered. (wrong meaning)
c. The accountant entered the figures.
d. *The accountant entered into the table.
e. *The accountant entered the table.
The simplest way to handle (120) is to say it involves a different meaning of enter, say, INSERT–1.
Notice that the distribution of insert parallels (65):
(121) a. The accountant inserted the figures into the table.

b. *The accountant inserted.
c. The accountant inserted the figures.
d. *The accountant inserted into the table.
e. *The accountant inserted the table.
In a LISP parser, this means that enter points to ENTER–1 and INSERT–1. The significant point
here is that the system we have devised indicates how a verb can come to be used in these two
senses: without (100) the entry for enter would look like the entry for insert. In fact, there are uses
of enter that underscore this even more. Consider the following:
(122) a. John entered himself/his son into the contest.

b. John entered.
c. John entered himself/his son.
d. ?John entered into the contest.
e. John entered the contest.
These data are very complicated. First, during a discussion of the contest, (122b) is possible;
whereas (120b) is ungrammatical even during a discussion of figures and tables. Second, this use
of enter is understood reflexively, unless some other entity is in ASC slot ((122a) and (122c)).
Third, this use allows ILL to be omitted (122c) or optionally incorporated (122e). Furthermore,
while (122a) is understandable, my own intuitions favor in rather than into; and, while (122d) seems
questionable, replacing into with in renders it completely ungrammatical.
Chapter Five 351
The use of enter in (122) is very much like enroll, except that enroll does not allow prepositional
incorporation:
(123) a. John enrolled himself/his son in/into the university.

b. John enrolled.
c. John enrolled himself/his son.
d. John enrolled in/into the university.
e. *John enrolled the university.
The entry for enroll that reflects (123) is (124).
(124) ENROLL–1

b. EFC
c. ASC O
d. ILL (INSTITUTION–1 PROGRAM–1)
This entry differs from previous ones in containing an “O” for “Optional” at the end of a theme list.
As a result of the spectrum specifications, there is, strictly speaking, no such thing as an Optional
SCT. One is, at least, understood even if it doesn’t or can’t occur overtly. Thus, the O after ASC
means that the verb is understood reflexively if there is no overt ASC.
As a result of comparing the above entries, we see that one important difference between verbs of
similar ORIENTATION, like insert, inject, and enter, derives from the syntactic requirements of the
PCOMP slot and the semantic nature of the entities involved, for example the fact that an injection
typically involves some fluid. Without taking such information into consideration, dictionaries
become storehouses of repetitious information. Consider, for example, how the verb run changes
meaning depending on the nature of the AFC:
(125) a. John ran the company.

b. John ran the meeting.
c. John ran the mile.
d. John ran the machine.
Each one of these uses of run is given a separate listing in standard dictionaries. In all, Webster’s
Third New International Dictionary (unabridged) lists sixteen major meanings for the transitive use
of run, and fifteen for the intransitive use. Each of these major meanings is further subdivided into
as many as seven headings. The American Heritage Illustrated Encyclopedic Dictionary gives
thirty–four major transitive meanings and thirty–seven major intransitive ones. The Random House
Webster’s Electronic Dictionary tells an installer that run “has 87 different meanings when used as
a verb, 39 when used as a noun, 2 when used as an adjective, and 9 when used as an idiom. In total
it has 137 definitions.”
352 Chapter Five
While all of this apparent fecundity cannot be attributed to redundancy, much of it can. This does
not matter if one’s goal is merely encyclopedic; however, if one’s goal is to understand the nature
of language, then it matters a great deal. The examples in (125) are typical; one does not have to
search for a long time to come upon redundancies in a standard dictionary. Consider again the word
enter:
(126) a. He entered the forest.

b. He entered the university.
c. He entered the contest.
d. He entered the priesthood.
Notice that the only truly ungrammatical example with overt reflexive or some nonreflexive N3 is
the one with the truly POSITIONAL ILL theme; the word forest has a pointer to [PST4]:
(127) a. *He entered himself/Bill into the forest.

b. He entered himself/Bill into the university.
c. He entered himself/Bill into the contest.
d. He entered himself/Bill into the priesthood.
Notice also that (127b) is ungrammatical if university is understood purely as a location ([PST4])
as opposed to an institution ([PST3]). These data suggest that we revise the entry for enter. To
account for all the data, suppose we include a pointer to the specification PST_PCOMP meaning
(128):
(128) PST_PCOMP:
A PST phrase in SCOMP1 position may occur in PCOMP as an N3 if there is no overt

ASC.
The PST_PCOMP variation is obligatory when the noun in the PST phrase is [PST4]; optional when
that noun is not [PST4]. Since this variation occurs without overt ASC, when it does occur, (100)
applies. Therefore, in (126), all uses of enter are reflexive. The new entry is as follows:
(129) ENTER–1

b. EFC
c. ASC N3 O
d. ILL P/N3
e. PST_PCOMP
Clearly, PST_PCOMP is related to AFC_PCOMP, so we will generalize the two shortly.

Chapter Five 353
From (129), we would logically assume that the complete absence of a syntactically overt ASC in
a positional predicate, as in the case of intransitive verbs, forces reflexive interpretation. This is
correct and brings us to Class III, which contains all the intransitive movement verbs like go:
(130) a. *He went himself/his son into the room.

b. He went.
c. *He went himself/his son. (where himself is ASC)
d. He went into the room.
e. *He went the room.
(131) GO–1
a. (IGR (EFC4 FORM–1 AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL))

b. EFC
c. ["DSJ, –"CNJ]
Two points must be made about this entry. The first is that go is a true intransitive verb. Despite
sporadic and clearly specialized uses (this issue must be gone into more carefully), the verb has no
overt ASC PCOMP and no passive. Therefore, the EFC and ASC must be instantiated in the
spectrum specification by the same referent; in short, go is similar to the old fashioned betake
oneself. In all intransitive movement predicates, (100) is in force.
The second point is that the verb lacks a specified ORIENTATION; therefore, AFC is coreferential
with whichever nonstative positional theme is selected:
(132) a. He went into the room.

b. He went out of the room.
In Class IV, which is very rare (if, indeed, it is a class), we have an obligatory reflexive ASC. The
data is in (133) and the entry in (134): SELF–1 is a word sense for denoting a reflexive pronoun.
It has links to a specific set of morphosyntactic features [–VBL, +NML, –OPH, –OCL, +ECH] (see
Figure Seven in Chapter Three, Page 176, 177; see also Page 411 below).
(133) a. *He absented John from all fellowship.

b. He absented himself from all fellowship.
c. He absented himself.
d. *He absented from all fellowship.
(134) ABSENT–1
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ABL ASC ILL))

b EFC
c. ASC SELF–1 R
d. ABL
354 Chapter Five
In essence, in English, the verb absent is an exception to (100), perhaps the only one. Obligatory
reflexivization is very uncommon in English. The few verbs include perjure, ingratiate, pride,
demean, and avail. All but absent are nonpositional.
In Class V, we have verbs like withdraw in (135) and drop (136):
(135) a. He (EFC) withdrew her (ASC) from the competition (ELA).

b. He (EFC) withdrew himself (ASC) from the competition (ELA).
c. He (EFC) withdrew from the competition (ELA).
d. *He (EFC) withdrew the competition.
(136) a. He (EFC) dropped it (ASC) onto the bed (ILL).

b. He (EFC) dropped it (ASC).
c. He (EFC) dropped himself (ASC) onto the bed (ILL).
d. He (EFC) dropped onto the bed (ILL).
e. He (EFC) dropped.
f. It (ASC) dropped onto the bed (ILL).
g. It (ASC) dropped.
h. *He (EFC) dropped the bed (ILL).
i. *It (ASC) dropped the bed (ILL).
In the above examples, incorporation of the ELA or ILL preposition is impossible; (135d), (136h)
and (136i) are all ungrammatical. The verbs are much like Class II verbs in that the ASC can be
suppressed and understood reflexively as in (135c), (136d) and (136e); however, the verbs in Class
V can be used transitively whereas those in Class II cannot.
There are two subclasses of Class V: verbs like withdraw where the ASC must be PCOMP if it is
overt. The second subclass, which includes verbs like drop, differ from all previous examples in
allowing the SCT (ASC, NASC, etc.) to become subject in the active (136f) and (136g). There are
many verbs in this subclass: drop, move, roll, spin, turn, and so on (see Fillmore 1969; Levin 1993).
We will refer to the occurrence of SCT in SUBJECT position in the active as SCT_SUBJECT. The
entry for drop in our framework is (137).
(137) DROP–1
a. IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL))

b. EFC
c. ASC N3 O
d. ILL
e. SCT_SUBJECT
As above in the case of enroll, the “O” in the ASC theme list means the verb is understood
reflexively if there is not overt ASC. Since the ILL theme list has no specifications, the
redundancies apply: it is C3 and at least understood. These markings account for (136a) ) (136e).
Chapter Five 355
The syntactic specification SCT_SUBJECT accounts for (136f) and (136g); however, observe that
these examples do not mean it dropped itself, since the subject is ASC, not EFC. In short, (100) is
not in effect. We define SCT_SUBJECT as follows:
(138) SCT_SUBJECT:
The occurrence of an SCT, normally in PCOMP position, in the SUBJECT slot when there
is no overt EFC.
In Section 5.8 (Page 355), (138) will be related to the hierarchies in (87) and (88).
Most of the above discussion has concerned GOAL ORIENTATION, that is, ILL movement verbs.
Fortunately, a switch to SOURCE ORIENTATION is straightforward. We can see this, for
example, in the following entries for extract and exit:
(139) EXTRACT–1

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. ELA
(140) EXIT–1

b. EFC
c. ELA N3
5.8 PROMOTION REVISITED.
In the examples above, we saw two different ways in which a PCOMP slot can become vacant of
ASC. In inject, the verb is AFC_PCOMP meaning that the ASC can vacate the PCOMP slot
allowing for promotion of the ILL up the thematic hierarchy. In the true positional uses of enter,
the ASC is suppressed; therefore, the ILL can be promoted. This is an instance of PST_PCOMP.
There is one other common way for PCOMP slot to become vacant of ASC, and that is through
AFR_PCOMP, which is the occurrence of an AFFERENTIAL theme in PCOMP slot as follows:
(141) a. John gave the book to Mary.

b. John gave Mary the book.
356 Chapter Five
(142) GIVE–1
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. AFR
e. AFR_PCOMP
We define AFR_PCOMP as follows:
(143) AFR_PCOMP:
The occurrence of an AFR theme as N3 in PCOMP slot and an SCT theme as N3 in

SCOMP1 slot.
For convenience, we can refer to AFC_PCOMP, PST_PCOMP, and AFR_PCOMP as instances of

PROMOTION, which we now define as follows:
(144) PROMOTION:
A variation in a theme listing in which a phrase which is ordinarily in SCOMP1 slot occurs
in PCOMP slot.
PROMOTION is clearly related to the thematic hierarchies given in (87) and (88). The three
syntactic categories mentioned above (AFC_PCOMP, PST_PCOMP, and AFR_PCOMP) move a
theme “up” one notch on the list from SCOMP1 to PCOMP. The differences between the three
involves what happens to the SCT. In AFC_PCOMP, the SCT becomes a full prepositional phrase
if it is overt (He injected the dye into the patient/He injected the patient with the dye/He injected the
patient); in PST_PCOMP, the SCT cannot be overt (He entered himself into the contest/He entered
the contest/*He entered the contest with himself); in AFR_PCOMP, the SCT becomes a second
object (He gave the book to Mary/He gave Mary the book/*He gave Mary with the book).
SCT_SUBJECT, discussed in the last section, also moves a theme up one notch, only from PCOMP
to SUBJECT. This suggest that the definition of PROMOTION be broadened to include
SCT_SUBJECT (and, perhaps, even INS_SUBJECT (that gun killed John (91b)):27
(145) PROMOTION:
A variation in a theme listing in which a phrase is moved up one slot in the theme list.
a. SCOMP1 PROMOTION includes AFC_PCOMP, PST_PCOMP, and AFR_PCOMP.
b. PCOMP PROMOTION includes SCT_SUBJECT.

Chapter Five 357
5.9 DERIVING THE SPECTRUM SPECIFICATION.
A major point of our discussion has been the fact that all predicates can be mapped onto one
generalized spectrum specification, namely, ([+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST]) given in
Chapter Two (Page 97). As a result of the descriptive mechanisms we have developed, we see now
that, for many predicates, this means that the spectrum specification can be derived from the theme
list. For example, in the entry for exit in (140), each theme in the theme list fulfills an unambiguous
slot in the spectrum specification. This is ascertainable in the following ways:
First, since the SUBJECT theme of exit is EFC, we know that exit is an IGR predicate with a
specification for inalienable possession, at least. In short, we know that exit must have the following
minimum specification: (IGR (EFC ATT AFC)).
Second, since the PCOMP theme is ASC, an alienable spectrum is also required. This gives a
revised spectrum specification of (IGR (EFC ATT AFC) (? ASC ?)).
Third, since the SCOMP1 theme is ELA, we know that exit has SOURCE ORIENTATION;
therefore the ELA theme and the AFC theme must be the same entity. This gives the following
revised spectrum: (IGR (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ?)).
Lastly, every SOURCE theme must be patterned with a GOAL, so the final form is: (IGR (EFC
ATT AFC) (ELA ASC ILL)).
In short, for exit, it is actually redundant to have pointers to both a theme list and a spectrum
specification.
For other predicates, this is not precisely so. Consider, for example, the spectrum specification for
wax discussed in (45). The full entry might be the following:
(146) WAX–1
a. (IGR (EFC SHINE–1 AFC) (EFR WAX–2 AFR))

b. EFC
c. AFR
Given the theme list alone (EFC SUBJECT and AFR PCOMP), we cannot derive the fact that
SHINE–1 and WAX–1 are SCT in the spectrum specification. If we replaced the spectrum
specification with a list of incorporated lexical concepts, then the rest of the spectrum could be
derived. Thus, suppose the entry is simply (147).
358 Chapter Five
(147) WAX–1
a. (SHINE–1 WAX–2)
b. EFC
c. AFR
We can derive the spectrum specification as follows:
First, given EFC SUBJECT and AFR PCOMP, we know that the spectrum is, at least: (IGR (EFC
ATT AFC)).
Second, since the lexicon lists SHINE–1 as an inalienable possession and WAX–2 as an alienable
one, we have the following spectrum: (IGR (EFC SHINE–1 AFC) (? WAX–2 ?)).
Third, since PCOMP is AFC, wax has GOAL ORIENTATION; therefore, AFC is the same entity
as the alienable GOAL. This gives (IGR (EFC SHINE–1 AFC) (? WAX–2 AFR)).
Fourth, since every AFR has an EFR, we are left with the following: (IGR (EFC SHINE–1 AFC)
(EFR WAX–2 AFR)).
In essence, therefore, the system we have developed will allow us to derive much lexical information
from basic principles of syntax and semantics. This constitutes the achievement of an important
goal. Redundancy is not a matter of economy per se; that is, one does not want to eliminate
redundancy primarily to save space. Rather, at the heart of redundancy is the question of linguistic
generalization. Redundancies are generalizations, and generalizations constitute the native speaker’s
linguistic competence. In the next chapter, I will summarize these generalizations and suggest an
unmarked form for the lexical entry of all predicates.
5.10 THE LANGTECH PARSER.
As I have noted before, the grammatical theory presented in this book has been implemented in a
computer parsing program designed to extract meaning from sentences and ultimately, though not
presently, to relate that meaning to real world referents. The intent is to connect word senses to
actual objects that a computer equipped with a perceptual system (vision, primarily) has perceived
so that one can begin to speak of a machine or robot as understanding a natural language,
specifically English. The parser has undergone many changes over the twenty years it has been in
development. Originally, I worked alone writing the code in PL/1, because that programming
language was all that was available at the time on a mainframe computer. In 1985, I formed a
partnership with Chris Wagner to develop a system in LISP operating in a UNIX environment; Chris
was responsible for designing the data structures and writing the code, and I was responsible for
supplying and justifying the linguistic analyses. That effort continued for nearly ten years. In 1994,
Nathan Binkert took over the computational side of the project, developing a new system written
in C++ for implementation on an ordinary PC. Work on the parser continued under the support of
Chapter Five 359
the Langtech Corporation; hence, the name “The Langtech Parser” (LTP).
The LTP, like its predecessors, parses English sentences that are typed into the program. Although
the LTP contains phonetic specifications for all lexical entries, the phonetic information is not
currently used in parsing; yet, the intent is to turn the system into one that eventually responds to
spoken language. In the past six years, the fundamental operation of the parsing routines and all of
the data structures have changed. Basically, the LTP attempts to implement the morphosyntactic
and semantic feature spaces described in the preceding chapters more directly than its predecessors.
5.10.1 THE RETRIEVAL OF MORPHOSYNTACTIC FEATURES.
In the analysis of an arbitrary input string, the LTP retrieves all of the parts of speech associated
with each word from the lexicon by tracing the links from the word up the morphosyntactic
hierarchy to the top node SYNCAT–1, the word sense meaning ‘syntactic category.’ For example,
given the word those, the LTP retrieves the fact that it is a plural determiner (DETPL–1), which in
turn is a determiner (DET–1), which in turn is a characterizer (CHAR–1), which in turn is a syntactic
category. The relevant portion of the network that contains this information, starting from the top
node SYNCAT–1, is given in (149) and (152).28
(148) a. SYNCAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB–1 (‘verbs’)

b. SYNCAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> SUBJUNCT–1 (‘subjuncts’)
c. SUBJUNCT–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUN–1 (‘nouns’)

d. SUBJUNCT–1 ––TYP1 ––> CHAR–1 (‘characterizers’)
e. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUNSG–1 (‘singular nouns’)

f. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUNPL–1 (‘plural nouns’)
g. CHAR–1 ––TYP1 ––> DET–1 (‘determiners’)
h. DET–1 ––TYP1 ––> DETSG–1 (‘singular determiners’)

i. DET–1 ––TYP1 ––> DETPL–1 (‘plural determiners’)
(149) a. THAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT–1a

b. THAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT–1b
c. THAT–1a ––IPS ––> that (‘orthographic form of THAT–1a’)

d. THAT–1a ––IPS ––> [ðæt] (‘phonetic form of THAT–1a’)
e. THAT–1a ––TYP2 ––> DETSG–1
f. THAT–1b ––IPS ––> those (‘orthographic form of THAT–1b’)

g. THAT–1b ––IPS ––> [ðoz] (‘phonetic form of THAT–1b’)
h. THAT–1b ––TYP2 ––> DETPL–1
360 Chapter Five
Each of these parts of speech is linked to a set of morphosyntactic features, which define the
residences it can occupy (see Figure Seven on Page 176, 177), and to other word senses, which
specify its properties. This information is encoded into the LTP’s network as follows:29
(150) a. VERB–1 ––IPS ––> [–NML, +VBL]

b. SUBJUNCT–1 ––IPS ––> [–VBL]
c. NOUN–1 ––IPS ––> [+NML]
d. CHAR–1 ––IPS ––> [–NML]
e. DET–1 ––IPS ––> [+PRH,+X3L, +ENH, ...]
(151) a. DETSG–1 ––IPS ––> [1NUM]

b. DETPL–1 ––IPS ––> [2NUM]
c. NOUNSG–1 ––IPS ––> [1NUM]
d. NOUNPL–1 ––IPS ––> [2NUM]
The words those and that are assigned other characteristics as follows:
(152) a. THAT–1 ––IPS ––> DEFINITE–1

b. THAT–1 ––IPS ––> DEICTIC–1
To express the fact that one part of speech must co–occur with another, the LTP use the
COMITATIVE (COM) thematic relation. For example, (153) tells us that DETSG–1 occurs with
NOUNSG–1 and that DETPL–1 occurs with NOUNPL–1:30
(153) a. DETSG–1 ––COM ––> NOUNSG–1

b. DETPL–1 ––COM ––> NOUNPL–1
In (153), we know that the number agreement proceeds from the noun to the determiner because
nouns are [+NML] (have inherent number) while determiners are [–NML] (do not have inherent
number).31
5.10.2 BUILDING SYNTACTIC STRUCTURE.
From the morphosyntactic feature specifications, a set of phrase structures or “frames” is built
containing a minimal projection of X0 and a maximal projection of X3 for each part of speech. All
phrases have two components, a categorial specification (CAT_SPEC–1) and a level specification
(LEV_SPEC–1):
(154) a. PHRASE–1 ––CPT1 ––> CAT_SPEC–1

b. PHRASE–1 ––CPT1 ––> LEV_SPEC–1
c. CAT_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUN–1

d. CAT_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB–1
Chapter Five 361
e. CAT_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> CHAR–1
f. LEV_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> X3–1

g. LEV_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> X2–1
h. LEV_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> X1–1
i. LEV_SPEC–1 ––TYP1 ––> X0–1
j. X3–1 ––CPT1 ––> X2–1

k. X2–1 ––CPT1 ––> X1–1
l. X1–1 ––CPT1 ––> X0–1
From the above links, we construct the following frame, where “C” is merely a convenient
abbreviation for [–NML, –VBL]:
(155) [C3 [C2 [C1 [C0 CHAR–1: those]]]]
Some categories, e.g., determiners and complementizers, have a link to the feature specification
[–OPH] ([–OPEN PHRASE]) meaning they cannot have their own specifiers, modifiers, or
complements. In the LTP, this is represented as a “lock” signified by the equal sign:
(156) [C3 = [C2 = [C1 = [C0 CHAR–1: those] = ] = ] = ]
When levels are locked, nothing can be merged into them. Thus, determiners always reside in a
dependent position, i.e., they are merged into something else.
Technically, all phrases have an X2 and an X1 level; however, following the conventions I have
used throughout this book, I will only mention these intervening levels when they branch. Thus,
(156) is simplified to (157).
(157) [C3 = [C0 CHAR–1: those] = ]
Continuing with the building of frames, the feature specification in (150e) tells us that determiners
are [+PRH, +X3L, +ENH], that is, they reside in prehead position on the X3 level of a phrase whose
head is a noun (NOUN–1). From this specification, we construct the following:
(158) [N3 [C3 = [C0 DET–1: those] = ] [N0 NOUN–1]]
Lastly, from (153b), we construct the following most specific frame:
(159) [N3 [C3 = [C0 DETPL–1: those] = ] [N0 NOUNPL–1]]
The parser proceeds in this manner for each successive word in the input string. For example, if the
next word is women, the parser would construct the following analogous to the above:
362 Chapter Five
(160) [N3 [N0 NOUN–1: women]]
(161) [N3 [N0 NOUNPL–1: women]]
5.10.3 MERGING FRAMES.
At the second word of the input string, the merge routines begin. The parser attempts to match all
of the frames from the first word with all of the frames from the second. The resulting parse trees
are then compared.
If the difference between any two parse trees lies only in the part–of–speech label for any word, the
parser, by default, selects the most highly specific amalgamation, i.e., the one with the most highly
specific features. In the present instance, the output is as follows:
(162) [N3 [C3 = [C0 DETPL–1: those] = ] [N0 NOUNPL–1: women]]
If the results of merging reveal a structural ambiguity, then all of the potential structures are carried
forward to the next word. For example, if the first two words are do and the, we may have the
beginning of a question (Do the jobs pay well) or a command (Do the jobs right).
If there is no possible merge, the parser places the frames for the first word on a stack and proceeds
to the third word attempting to merge the second and the third. This would occur in an input string
like those extremely talented women since those (a determiner) and extremely (an adverb) cannot
form a phrase given their individual feature spaces. If a user accidentally types in an ungrammatical
string like those woman, the parser constructs the best phrase it can. Since woman is singular, the
parser cannot use (159) and must use (158). The result is (163).
(163) [N3 [C3 = [C0 DET–1: those] = ] [N0 NOUN–1: woman]]
The above structure will be marked deviant because NOUN–1 has a link to [+NML] (‘marked for
inherent number’) and the structure contains no link between NOUN–1 and a subcategory like
NOUNSG–1 or NOUNPL–1 that points to a specific realization of NUMBER, i.e., either [1NUM]
or [2NUM]. Furthermore, the links in (153), which express the agreement relation between
determiners and nouns, are not realized.
5.10.4 A NOTE ON INHERITANCE.
The LTP contains specific routines for searching the lexicon and attaching characteristics to nodes
by inheritance. These routines can often be viewed as the computational equivalent of familiar
logical representations (Lyons 1977: Volume I; Bresnan 1978; May, R. 1985) although they are
specified in C++ statements rather than in logical notation. For example, in C++ and most
programming languages, an if–statement directs a program to execute another statement or block
Chapter Five 363
of statements if a test condition is true and to skip that statement or block if the condition is false.
The statements and conditions may be simple or very complex.
To take a specific example, as we saw above, specific word senses inherit the attributes of higher
classes to which they are linked. In that context, we saw that the word those is a DETPL–1 (plural
determiner), a DET–1 (determiner), a CHAR–1 (characterize), and a SYNCAT–1 (syntactic
category). To determine the possible part–of–speech designations for a particular word like those,
the parser first finds the word those in the network and retrieves the specification that it is a
DETPL–1. It then returns a list of the superordinate categories just mentioned by tracing the
network from DETPL–1 to successively higher classes until it reaches SYNCAT–1.
One could represent a portion of the C++ code that is used in this procedure in an equivalent logical
expression like (164) meaning ‘for all x, it is the case that, if x is a DETPL–1, then x is a DET–1.’
(164) œx (DETPL–1(x) v DET–1(x))
This information, that every x which is a DETPL–1 is also a DET–1, however it is represented, is
necessary to determine which frames are selected in building up phrase structure from the word
level. Logical notation is not used in the LTP; it is mentioned here only for those readers who may
not be familiar with programming languages, but who are familiar with notation like (164).32
5.10.5 STRENGTH OF ASSOCIATION.
Each one of the links in the semantic network contains a strength of association (see Page 331 ff.)
indicating how strong the link is. All links are assumed by default to have the highest strength of
association on the scale from 0 (lowest) to 4 (highest). When a link does not have the highest
strength of association, the particular strength is indicated here in square brackets. For example, the
simple network for BIRD–1 (the animal) discussed in Chapter One (Page 56 ff.) included the
following:
(165) a. BIRD–1 ––IPS ––> BILL–1

b. BIRD–1 ––APS ––> NEST–1
c. BIRD–1 ––EFC ––> FLY–1
d. BIRD–1 ––EFC ––> LAY_EGGS–1
e. AIR–1 ––LOC2 ––> FLY–1
The link from BIRD–1 to FLY–1 has the highest strength of association [4] by default, indicating
that the prototypical bird is an agent (EFC) of FLY–1. However, there are some birds that can’t fly.
This information is encoded in the following special link:
(166) PENGUIN–1 ––EFC[0] ––> FLY–1

364 Chapter Five
The LTP, by default, chooses the most specific link when a link directly obtained from any word
sense conflicts with an inherited link. Thus, although most birds (robins, sparrows, wrens, etc.) will
inherit the link indicating that they are capable of flight, penguins will not because they have a
specific link in the network which indicates that they cannot fly. This method is intended to capture
that fact that it is quite exceptional for a bird not to be able to fly.
5.10.6 THE RETRIEVAL OF SEMANTIC FEATURES.
As an illustration of the additional kinds of information that is stored in the LTP’s network, consider
the word tear. This particular English word is linked to several word senses among which are
TEAR–1 ‘pertaining to moisture from the eye’ and TEAR–2 ‘pertaining to forceful separation.’
These word sense TEAR–1 is linked to other nodes such as those specified in (167):
(167) a. TEAR–1 ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1a

b. TEAR–1 ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1b
c. TEAR–1a ––TYP2 ––> NOUN–1

d. TEAR–1b ––TYP2 ––> VERB–1
e. TEAR–1a ––CPT1 ––> TEAR–1a1
f. TEAR–1a ––CPT1 ––> TEAR–1a2
g. TEAR–1a1 ––IPS ––> tear (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1a1’)

h. TEAR–1a1 ––IPS ––> [tir] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1a1’)
i. TEAR–1a1 ––TYP2 ––> NOUNSG–1
j. TEAR–1a2 ––IPS ––> tears (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1a2’)

k. TEAR–1a2 ––IPS ––> [tirz] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1a2’)
l. TEAR–1a2 ––TYP2 ––> NOUNPL–1
Of course, much of the information in the above network is redundant. For example, TEAR–1a is
a regular noun with a predictable plural form. The LTP contains a morphological analyzer which
is used in the analysis of words not contained in the network, such as neologisms and misspellings.
This analyzer could be used for a word like tears, but it is not because, given the present platform
of the LTP, it is actually faster to retrieve the forms directly from the network than to analyze them.
Similar remarks apply to the various links that specify the verb forms tear [tir], tears [tirs], teared
[tird], and tearing [tiriõ].
Continuing with this illustrative example, we have links like the following for TEAR–1a (the noun)
and related word senses:
(168) a. TEAR–1a ––TYP2 ––> BODILY_FLUID–1

b. TEAR_DUCT–1a ––ELA ––> TEAR–1a
c. EYE–1 ––CPT1 ––> TEAR_DUCT–1
Chapter Five 365
These links express the information that a tear is a kind of bodily fluid which comes from tear ducts
which are part of the eye. Thus, the meaning of the word sense TEAR–1a, instantiated in English
by the word tear, is directly and only derivable from the network like the meaning of all the word
senses given in this book. Importantly, meaning has independent existence apart from the network
only when a node points to primitive features or to pictures, diagrams, and such. Strictly speaking,
the first sentence of the present paragraph should be as follows: These links express the information
that TEAR–1a is a kind of BODILY_FLUID–1 which comes from TEAR_DUCT–1 which is part
of EYE–1. As I commented in Chapter One, such language is cumbersome and unnecessarily
cryptic so I have avoided it during the discussion of what a link expresses.
Putting all of these links together, it is possible to assign a coherent meaning to a sentence like His
eyes are tearing but not His legs are tearing because the network contains links between the word
eye and tear but not leg and tear. Thus, in the LTP, selectional restrictions are derived from the
links in the network.33
Continuing further, we have the following thematic specifications for the verb TEAR–1b ‘shed
tears’:
(169) a. TEAR–1b ––CPT1 ––> CAU–1

b. TEAR–1b ––CPT1 ––> TEAR–1a
c. TEAR–1b ––CPT1 ––> AFR–1
These links tell us that the verb tear is associated with three themes: a CAU–1 (CAUSAL–1) theme
denoting the cause of tearing; an incorporated word sense (TEAR–1a) which specifies what is
transferred during tearing; and, an AFR–1 (AFFERENTIAL–1) theme denoting the recipient of
TEAR–1a. Since incorporated word senses are usually not realized overtly, the verb is either
transitive (Fear teared his eyes; Pity teared his vision) where the AFR–1 theme is PCOMP, or it is
intransitive (Her eyes teared when he proposed) where the AFR–1 theme is SUBJECT.
There is a difference between a notation like CAU–1 (CAUSAL–1) and CAU (CAUSAL). The
former is a word sense roughly meaning ‘the CAUSAL thematic relation’; the latter is an
abbreviation for a particular set of primitive features. The network contains links like the following
for all thematic relations to express the redundancies given above in (81):
(170) a. CAU–1 ––IPS ––> [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, –FST, +EXT]
b. CAU–1 ––IPS ––> [–VBL, +OPH, +X1L, +X3L, –PRH]
c. CAU–1 ––CPT1 ––> FROM–1
The link in (170a) defines the meaning of the word sense CAU–1 in terms of the set of primitive
semantic features that it inalienably possesses (IPS). Up to this point, we have abbreviated this set
of features as CAU (CAUSAL) and will continue to do so.
The link in (170b) says that the word sense CAU–1 inalienably possesses (IPS) the structure of a
prepositional phrase (P3) by listing the set of morphosyntactic features which separate prepositions
366 Chapter Five
from all other categories. This specification is the unmarked syntactic form for CAU–1. For
convenience, we will continue to abbreviate a set of morphosyntactic features like the one given in
(170b) in the familiar form, e.g., N3, V3, C3, P3, etc. The specification in (170b) makes it clear that
P3 is simply an abbreviatory convenience for [–VBL, +OPH, +X1L, +X3L, –PRH]. In short, P3 =
[–VBL, +OPH, +X1L, +X3L, –PRH].
Lastly, (170c) says that the preposition FROM–1 is the unmarked prepositional component of the
word sense CAU–1. Since CAU–1 is a P3, it has the structure of a P3; specifically, it must contain
some preposition at the very least. The preposition FROM–1 has its own connections. Among these
is a link that specifies FROM–1 as transitive, i.e., a member of a category that has an N3 residing
in posthead position off its X1 level, a definition I will incorporate into the network shortly.
Notice that the labels on the pointers and the thematic designations are not given as word senses
because these labels and designations are defined by the primitive features themselves. The
following link tell us that SMOKE–1 can cause TEAR–1a; the label CAU (CAUSAL) is no more
than an abbreviation for [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, –FST, +EXT], which is linked to CAU–1 via
(170a):
(171) SMOKE–1 ––CAU ––> TEAR–1a
Thus, when the name for a thematic relation is followed by a numerical suffix, e.g., CAU–1
(CAUSAL–1), then it refers to a word sense designating a component of a theme list; when the name
is not followed by a numerical suffix, e.g., CAU (CAUSAL), then it is an abbreviation for a set of
primitive features. Connected to the word sense are all the redundant characteristics that are
associated with the thematic relation such as (170).
5.10.7 THE BREAKDOWN OF NOMINAL AND VERBAL FEATURES.
We turn now to that portion of the LTP’s network which encodes the various features which
distinguish nominal ([+NML]) and verbal ([+VBL]) categories. Consider first the following
breakdown of NOMINAL_FEATURE–1 (NML_FEAT–1), that is, the various features appropriate
to nominal categories:
(172) a. NML_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> NUMBER–1 (‘grammatical number’)

b. NML_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERSON–1 (‘grammatical person’)
c. NML_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> GENDER–1 (‘grammatical gender’)
d. NML_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> CASE–1 (‘grammatical case’)
(173) a. NUMBER–1 ––TYP1 ––> NUMBER–1a

b. NUMBER–1 ––TYP1 ––> NUMBER–1b
c. NUMBER–1 ––TYP1 ––> NUMBER–1c
Chapter Five 367
(174) a. NUMBER–1a ––IPS ––> [0NUM] (‘unmarked for number’)
b. NUMBER–1b ––IPS ––> [1NUM] (‘singular’)
c. NUMBER–1c ––IPS ––> [2NUM] (‘plural’)
(175) a. PERSON–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERSON–1a

b. PERSON–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERSON–1b
c. PERSON–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERSON–1c
d. PERSON–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERSON–1d
(176) a. PERSON–1a ––IPS ––> [0PER] (‘unmarked for person’)

b. PERSON–1b ––IPS ––> [1PER] (‘first person’)
c. PERSON–1c ––IPS ––> [2PER] (‘second person’)
d. PERSON–1d ––IPS ––> [3PER] (‘third person’)
(177) a. GENDER–1 ––TYP1 ––> GENDER–1a

b. GENDER–1 ––TYP1 ––> GENDER–1b
c. GENDER–1 ––TYP1 ––> GENDER–1c
d. GENDER–1 ––TYP1 ––> GENDER–1d
(178) a. GENDER–1a ––IPS ––> [0GEN] (‘unmarked for gender’)

b. GENDER–1b ––IPS ––> [1GEN] (‘masculine’)
c. GENDER–1c ––IPS ––> [2GEN] (‘feminine’)
d. GENDER–1d ––IPS ––> [3GEN] (‘neuter’)
(179) a. CASE–1 ––TYP1 ––> CASE–1a

b. CASE–1 ––TYP1 ––> CASE–1b
c. CASE–1 ––TYP1 ––> CASE–1c
d. CASE–1 ––TYP1 ––> CASE–1d
(180) a. CASE–1a ––IPS ––> [0CAS] (‘unmarked for case’)

b. CASE–1b ––IPS ––> [1CAS] (‘nominative’)
c. CASE–1c ––IPS ––> [2CAS] (‘accusative’)
d. CASE–1d ––IPS ––> [3CAS] (‘possessive’)
(181) a. NOUN–1 ––IPS ––> [0VBL, 1NML, +NUM, 3PER]

b. DET–1 ––IPS ––> [0VBL, 0NML, +NUM, 0PER]
(182) a. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUNSG–1

b. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUNPL–1
c. DET–1 ––TYP1 ––> DETSG–1

d. DET–1 ––TYP1 ––> DETPL–1
368 Chapter Five
(183) a. NOUNSG–1 ––IPS ––> [1NUM]
b. NOUNPL–1 ––IPS ––> [2NUM]
c. DETSG–1 ––IPS ––> [1NUM]

d. DETPL–1 ––IPS ––> [2NUM]
To the above links, we add the following connections for VERBAL_FEATURE–1 (VBL_FEAT–1),
that is, the various features appropriate to verbal categories:
(184) a. VBL_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1 (‘grammatical tense’)

b. VBL_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> ASPECT–1 (‘grammatical aspect’)
c. VBL_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> VOICE–1 (‘grammatical voice’)
d. VBL_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1 (‘grammatical mode’)
e. VBL_FEAT–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERSON–1 (‘grammatical person’)
(185) a. TENSE–1 ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1a

b. TENSE–1 ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1b
c. TENSE–1 ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1c
d. TENSE–1 ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1d
(186) a. TENSE–1a ––IPS ––> [0TNS] (‘unmarked for tense’)

b. TENSE–1b ––IPS ––> [1TNS] (‘present tense’)
c. TENSE–1c ––IPS ––> [2TNS] (‘past tense’)
d. TENSE–1d ––IPS ––> [3TNS] (‘future tense’)
(187) a. TENSE–1b ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1b1

b. TENSE–1b ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1b2
c. TENSE–1b ––TYP1 ––> TENSE–1b3
(188) a. TENSE–1b1 ––IPS ––> PUNCTUAL–1 (‘a single event’)

b. TENSE–1c ––IPS ––> PUNCTUAL–1 (‘a single event’)
c. TENSE–1d ––IPS ––> PUNCTUAL–1 (‘a single event’)
d. TENSE–1b2 ––IPS ––> HABITUAL–1 (‘a customary event’)

e. TENSE–1b3 ––IPS ––> HISTORICAL–1 (‘past event in present’)
(189) a. ASPECT–1 ––TYP1 ––> ASPECT–1a

b. ASPECT–1 ––TYP1 ––> ASPECT–1b
c. ASPECT–1 ––TYP1 ––> ASPECT–1c
(190) a. ASPECT–1a ––IPS ––> [0ASP] (‘unmarked for aspect’)

b. ASPECT–1b ––IPS ––> [1ASP] (‘progressive aspect’)
c. ASPECT–1c ––IPS ––> [2ASP] (‘perfective aspect’)
Chapter Five 369
(191) a. VOICE–1 ––TYP1 ––> VOICE–1a
b. VOICE–1 ––TYP1 ––> VOICE–1b
c. VOICE–1 ––TYP1 ––> VOICE–1c
d. VOICE–1 ––TYP1 ––> VOICE–1d
(192) a. VOICE–1a ––IPS ––> [0VOI] (‘unmarked for voice’)

b. VOICE–1b ––IPS ––> [1VOI] (‘active voice’)
c. VOICE–1c ––IPS ––> [2VOI] (‘middle voice’)
d. VOICE–1d ––IPS ––> [3VOI] (‘passive voice’)
(193) a. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1a

b. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1b
c. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1c
d. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1d
e. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1e
f. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1f
g. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1g
h. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1h
i. MODE–1 ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i
(194) a. MODE–1a ––IPS ––> [0MDE] (‘unmarked for mode’)

b. MODE–1b ––IPS ––> [1MDE] (‘indicative mode’)
c. MODE–1c ––IPS ––> [2MDE] (‘imperative mode’)
d. MODE–1d ––IPS ––> [3MDE] (‘subjunctive mode’)
e. MODE–1e ––IPS ––> [4MDE] (‘conditional mode’)
f. MODE–1f ––IPS ––> [5MDE] (‘participial mode’)
g. MODE–1g ––IPS ––> [6MDE] (‘gerundial mode’)
h. MODE–1h ––IPS ––> [7MDE] (‘infinitival mode’)
i. MODE–1i ––IPS ––> [8MDE] (‘modal mode’)
(195) a. MODE–1b ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1b1

b. MODE–1b ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1b2
(196) a. MODE–1b1 ––IPS ––> DECLARATIVE–1 (‘making an assertion’)

b. MODE–1b2 ––IPS ––> INTERROGATIVE–1 (‘asking a question’)
c. MODE–1c ––IPS ––> IMPERATIVE–1 (‘giving a command’)
d. MODE–1d ––IPS ––> SUBJUNCTIVE–1 (‘expressing a wish’)
e. MODE–1e ––IPS ––> CONDITIONAL–1 (‘stating a condition’)
(197) a. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i1

b. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i2
c. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i3
d. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i4
e. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i5
370 Chapter Five
f. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i6
g. MODE–1i ––TYP1 ––> MODE–1i7
(198) a. MODE–1i1 ––IPS ––> POSSIBILITY–1 (‘expressing possibility’)

b. MODE–1i2 ––IPS ––> NECESSITY–1 (‘expressing necessity’)
c. MODE–1i3 ––IPS ––> ABILITY–1 (‘expressing ability’)
d. MODE–1i4 ––IPS ––> PERMISSION–1 (‘expressing permission’)
e. MODE–1i5 ––IPS ––> OBLIGATION–1 (‘expressing obligation’)
f. MODE–1i6 ––IPS ––> SUBJUNCTIVE–1 (‘expressing a wish’)
g. MODE–1i7 ––IPS ––> CONDITIONAL–1 (‘stating a condition’)
(199) a. FINITE–1 ––IPS ––> [+PER]

b. NONFINITE–1 ––IPS ––> [0PER]
As we have noted before, the lexicon of the LTP has more than taxonomic significance. As a further
illustration of that fact with the links at hand, notice that word senses like TENSE–1b and
TENSE–1c are more than place holders for verb forms. These word senses have additional links to
classes of phrases with a temporal reference (today, now, yesterday, then, etc.) as well as to
specialized uses of demonstratives (this morning, that year, etc.) and particular words found in many
temporally constrained expressions, e.g., ago in a week ago, last in last summer, and so on. There
are sometimes very specific constraints; for example, the word hereby, in one of its uses (I hereby
declare this network to be a monster), is constrained to TENSE–1b and PERSON–1b. It is
important to keep this in mind as one works through the subclasses presented here.
Given the above connections, consider now how the network encodes the various forms of regular
English verbs like tear TEAR–1. Every regular English verb has five verb forms: a bare stem form
like tear, which is used for all persons and numbers in the present tense except for the third person
singular; a third person singular form tears; a past tense for teared; a past participle form teared; and
a present participle form tearing.
(200) a. VERB–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB1–1 (‘bear stem form’)

b. VERB–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB2–1 (‘third singular present form’)
c. VERB–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB3–1 (‘past tense form’)
d. VERB–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB4–1 (‘past participle form’)
e. VERB–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB5–1 (‘present participle form’)
For all English verbs except be, VERB1–1 (‘bear stem form’) is the form for all persons and
numbers in the present tense except the third person singular, the form for the second person singular
and plural imperative, the form for all persons and numbers of the subjunctive and the form used
after modals and for the infinitive. This homophony is represented in the following links:
(201) a. VERB1–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB1–1a (‘present indicative’)

b. VERB1–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB1–1b (‘imperative’)
c. VERB1–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB1–1c (‘subjunctive’)
Chapter Five 371
d. VERB1–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB1–1d (‘modal’)
e. VERB1–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB1–1e (‘infinitive’)
(202) a. VERB1–1a ––IPS ––> [1TNS, 0ASP, 1VOI, 1MDE, +PER, +NUM]
b. VERB1–1a ––TYP1 ––> VERB1_1a1
c. VERB1–1a ––TYP1 ––> VERB1_1a2
d. VERB1–1a ––TYP1 ––> VERB1_1a3
e. VERB1–1a ––TYP1 ––> VERB1_1a4
f. VERB1–1a ––TYP1 ––> VERB1_1a5
(203) a. VERB1–1a1 ––IPS ––> [1PER, 1NUM] (‘first person singular’)

b. VERB1–1a2 ––IPS ––> [1PER, 2NUM] (‘first person plural’)
c. VERB1–1a3 ––IPS ––> [2PER, 1NUM] (‘second person singular’)
d. VERB1–1a4 ––IPS ––> [2PER, 2NUM] (‘second person plural’)
e. VERB1–1a5 ––IPS ––> [3PER, 2NUM] (‘third person plural’)
A network similar to the above contains the breakdown of imperative forms (VERB1–1b)
subjunctive forms (VERB1–1c), modal forms, that is, those that occur with modals like will and
could, (VERB1–1d), and the infinitive (VERB1–1e):
(204) a. VERB1–1b ––IPS ––> [1TNS, 0ASP, +VOI, 2MDE, 2PER, +NUM]
b. VERB1–1c ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 0ASP, +VOI, 3MDE, +PER, +NUM]
c. VERB1–1d ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 0ASP, 0VOI, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
d. VERB1–1e ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 0ASP, 0VOI, 5MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
The third person singular present form and the past tense form have the following IPS links:
(205) a. VERB2–1 ––IPS ––> [1TNS, 0ASP, 1VOI, 1MDE, 3PER, 1NUM]
b. VERB3–1 ––IPS ––> [2TNS, 0ASP, 1VOI, 1MDE, +PER, +NUM]
The perfect active participle is always homophonous with the passive participle, and the present
participle form is always homophonous with the gerundial nominal:
(206) a. VERB4–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB4–1a (‘perfect active participle’)

b. VERB4–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB4–1b (‘passive participle’)
c. VERB4–1a ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 1VOI, 2ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]

d. VERB4–1b ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 3VO1, 2ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
(207) a. VERB5–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB5–1a (‘progressive active participle’)

b. VERB5–1 ––TYP1 ––> VERB5–1b (‘gerundial nominal’)
c. VERB5–1a ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 1VOI, 1ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]

d. VERB5–1b ––IPS ––> [0TNS, 1VOI, 0ASP, 5MDE, 3PER, 1NUM]
372 Chapter Five
Given the above verb forms, we can express the component parts and attributes of such
constructions as the PROGRESSIVE and PERFECTIVE aspects:
(208) a. ASPECT–1b ––CPT1 ––> BE–1 (‘the auxiliary verb be’)

b. ASPECT–1b ––CPT1 ––> VERB5–1a (‘progressive active participle’)
c. ASPECT–1b ––IPS ––> [1ASP]
(209) a. ASPECT–1c ––CPT1 ––> HAVE–1 (‘the auxiliary verb have’)

b. ASPECT–1c ––CPT1 ––> VERB4–1a (‘perfective active participle’)
c. ASPECT–1c ––IPS ––> [2ASP]
Similar links are also used to express the component parts of PASSIVE VOICE, FUTURE TENSE,
and the like:
(210) a. VOICE–1d ––CPT1 ––> BE–1 (‘the auxiliary verb be’)

b. VOICE–1d ––CPT1 ––> VERB4–1b (‘passive participle’)
c. VOICE–1d ––IPS ––> [3VOI]
(211) a. TENSE–1d ––CPT1 ––> WILL–1(‘the modal will’)

b. TENSE–1d ––CPT1 ––> VERB1–1d (‘modal form of a verb, e.g., go’)
c. TENSE–1d ––IPS ––> [3TNS]
Continuing, the various forms of the verb TEAR–1b ‘shed tears’ are as follows:
(212) a. TEAR–1b ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1b1

b. TEAR–1b ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1b2
c. TEAR–1b ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1b3
d. TEAR–1b ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1b4
e. TEAR–1b ––TYP1 ––> TEAR–1b5
(213) a. TEAR–1b1 ––TYP2 ––> VERB1–1

b. TEAR–1b2 ––TYP2 ––> VERB2–1
c. TEAR–1b3 ––TYP2 ––> VERB3–1
d. TEAR–1b4 ––TYP2 ––> VERB4–1
e. TEAR–1b5 ––TYP2 ––> VERB5–1
Finally, we are able to specify the principal parts of the verb tear linked to the word sense
TEAR–1b:
(214) a. TEAR–1b1 ––IPS ––> [tir]

b. TEAR–1b2 ––IPS ––> [tirz]
c. TEAR–1b3 ––IPS ––> [tird]
d. TEAR–1b4 ––IPS ––> [tird]
e. TEAR–1b5 ––IPS ––> [tiriõ]
Chapter Five 373
5.10.8 LINKING THE FEATURE SYSTEMS TOGETHER.
Consider now TEAR–2, ‘pertaining to forceful separation,’ which has the following partial network
(compare (167)):
(215) a. TEAR–2 ––TYP1 ––> TEAR2a

b. TEAR–2 ––TYP1 ––> TEAR2b
c. TEAR–2a ––TYP2 ––> NOUN–1

d. TEAR–2b ––TYP2 ––> VERB–1
e. TEAR–2a ––CPT1 ––> TEAR–2a1

f. TEAR–2a ––CPT1 ––> TEAR–2a2
g. TEAR–2a1 ––IPS ––> tear (‘orthographic form of TEAR–2a1’)

h. TEAR–2a1 ––IPS ––> [tær] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–2a1’)
i. TEAR–2a1 ––TYP2 ––> NOUNSG–1
j. TEAR–2a2 ––IPS ––> tears (‘orthographic form of TEAR–2a2’)

k. TEAR–2a2 ––IPS ––> [tærz] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–2a2’)
l. TEAR–2a2 ––TYP2 ––> NOUNPL–1
The noun TEAR–2a is an incorporated word sense in the thematic specifications for the verb
TEAR–2b in (216) as used in a sentence like (217).34
(216) a. TEAR–2b ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1

b. TEAR–2b ––CPT1 ––> TEAR–2a
c. TEAR–2b ––CPT1 ––> ASC–1
d. TEAR–2b ––CPT1 ––> EFR–1
(217) Sue tore the pages out of the book.
The syntactic structure assigned to this sentence by the LTP is the following:
(218) [V3 [N3 [N0 Sue]] [C3 [C0 PST]] [V1 [V0 tore] [N3 [C3 = [C0 the] = ] [N0 pages]]
[C3 [C1 [C0 out of] [N3 [C3 = [C0 the] = ] [N0 book]] ]] ]]
From this structure, we can determine that Sue is the subject of the verb tore since it is the head of
an N3 residing in prehead position on V3, that pages is the direct object (PCOMP) of the verb tore
since it is the head of an N3 residing in posthead position on V1, and that out of the book is an
SCOMP.
374 Chapter Five
The thematic specifications in (216) indicate that TEAR–2b involves a change in the EFR–1
(EFFERENTIAL–1) theme (SCOMP). EFR–1 is the word sense that points to the set of features
[–PST, –PRX, +DSJ, –CNJ, +FST, –EXT] which we have abbreviated as EFR. Further, since
EFR–1 is mentioned as a component of TEAR–2b, the verb has SOURCE ORIENTATION and the
EFR is the primary AFC, the entity primarily affected. Given these connections, the spectrum
specification is (219a) instantiated as (219b) for the target sentence (217).
(219) a. (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR)

b. (Sue TEAR–2a book) (book pages U)
Since an EFR theme reduces to a NPOS theme via (220), the result of Sue’s action in the target
sentence is that the book no longer contains the pages.
(220) EFR + ASC | NPOS + ASC
5.10.9 USING THE NETWORK TO EXPRESS GENERALIZATIONS.
The network described here can be used to express relationships that exist between more than two
nodes. For example, in (153), we expressed the fact that determiners must agree with the nouns they
specify, noting also that this relationship only holds when the noun is a common noun. We can
express the dependencies involved in this case with a “correlative” link, that is, a set of connections
that traverse the network as a group so that all links are interrelated, i.e., understood as occurring
together. Consider the following, where I use an equal sign to represent correlative links:
(221) a. DETSG–1=COM=>NOUNSG–1=TYP2=>COMMON_NOUN–1
b. DETPL–1=COM=>NOUNPL–1=TYP2=>COMMON_NOUN–1
The connections in (221) are interpreted as a rule stipulating that a singular determiner must
accompany (COM) a singular noun that points to a common noun, and that a plural determiner must
accompany a plural noun that points to a common noun.35
Correlative links can be used to define syntactically complex notions like transitivity. Consider the
following (see (154) above for LEV_SPEC–1, X1–1, etc.):
(222) TRANSITIVITY–1=CPT1=>LEV_SPEC–1=TYP1=>X1–1=CTP1=>N3
This correlative links says that TRANSITIVITY–1 is a word sense consisting of a level specification
of the type X1–1 which further has an N3 as one of its parts. Thus, both of the following X1 phrases
exhibit transitivity:
(223) a. history teacher: [N3 [N1 [N3 [N0 history]] [N0 teacher] ]]
b. teach history: [V3 [V1 [V0 teach] [N3 [N0 history]] ]]
Chapter Five 375
The basic idea in the above examples is that language consists of thousands of individual bits of
information such as the fact that the X1 level always contains at least an X0. We have encoded such
facts in the network as (154), the relevant portion of which I repeat here for convenience:
(224) X1–1 ––CPT1 ––> X0–1
From this individual bit of information, it is possible to construct the following frame:
(225) [X1 X0]
From (222) , it is possible to construct the following:
(226) a. [X1 N3 X0]

b. [X1 X0 N3]
From other individual bits of information encoded in the network, one can construct the following
frames for compound nouns, which have the object in prehead position, and transitive verbs, which
have the object in posthead position:
(227) a. compound nouns: [N1 N3 N0]

b. transitive verbs: [V1 V0 N3]
Thus, one can interpret the connections in a network as an instruction for building and merging
frames out of individual bits of information. It is important to keep this is mind when considering
complex notions like transitivity or agreement. In preceding chapters, I have represented the
amalgamation of various bits of information as complete frames, a representation that is somewhat
misleading since it obscures the individual parts of the frame. For example, in Chapter Three and
Chapter Four we incorporated the facts regarding subject–verb agreement in English and Latin
directly into frames. Consider again the English Subject Frame given on Page 265 and repeated here
for convenience ([1CAS] is nominative case):
(228) ENGLISH SUBJECT FRAME:
This particular frame consists of many individual bits of information, such as the fact that the subject
is a noun phrase, that it resides in prehead position off V3, that it is marked for the nominative case,
and so on. Such bits of information constitute the individual links which, in fact, are involved in
building a frame like (228). Thus, labeled brackets which appear commonly in linguistic notation
and which we have called “frames” are actually complex amalgamations of many individual bits of
information.
Correlative links either involve local dependencies or long–distant dependencies. When they
involve local dependencies, correlative links consist of adjacent elements in the network. The
376 Chapter Five
correlative links in (221) involve such local dependencies.
Long–distant dependencies, as the name implies, involve nodes which are not adjacent. For
example, many verbs require that the nouns which fill argument positions be of a specific type.
Thus, verbs of linguistic communication or speech–act verbs, when used literally, require that their
subject noun phrase contain a noun that is human, i.e., one that has a link to the word sense
HUMAN–1. We can express this restriction with a long–distance correlative link such as the
following, where the double arrow indicates that it must be possible to traverse the network through
an arbitrary number of links from the node on the left (NOUN–1) to the node on the right
(HUMAN–1):
(229) SPEECH_ACT_VERB–1=CPT1=>EFC–1=CPT1=>NOUN–1=IPS=>>HUMAN–1
A word like woman has the following connections among others:
(230) a. WOMAN–1 ––TYP1 ––> WOMAN–1a

b. WOMAN–1 ––TYP1 ––> WOMAN–1b
c. WOMAN–1 ––TYP2 ––> COMMON_NOUN–1
d. WOMAN–1 ––TYP2 ––> FEMALE_HUMAN–1
e. WOMAN–1a ––IPS ––> woman (‘orthographic form of

WOMAN–1a’)
f. WOMAN–1a ––IPS ––> [wmcn] (‘the phonetic form of
WOMAN–1a’)
g. WOMAN–1a ––TYP2 ––> NOUNSG–1
h. WOMAN–1b ––IPS ––> women (‘orthographic form of

WOMAN–1b’)
i. WOMAN–1b ––IPS ––> [w w mc n] (‘phonetic form of
WOMAN–1b)
j. WOMAN–1b ––TYP2 ––> NOUNPL–1
k. FEMALE_HUMAN–1 ––TYP2 ––> HUMAN–1

l. FEMALE_HUMAN–1 ––IPS ––> FEMALE–1
m. FEMALE–1 ––IPS ––> [2GEN]
Clearly, the connection between woman and HUMAN–1 is indirect and nonlocal. Nonetheless, it
is possible to traverse the network from one to the other. Given that, the word woman can function
as the EFC–1 component of a SPEECH_ACT_VERB–1. Rather than traversing the network
randomly in all possible directions from woman and HUMAN–1, the LTP begins with the two
elements, woman and HUMAN–1, and tries to determine if there is a connection between them.
There is.
Chapter Five 377
Whether correlative links involve local or long–distant dependencies, it is possible to traverse the
network through correlative links to find other connections, that is, the fact that an individual link
is part of a correlative link does not mean that it can only be part of a correlative link. The
individual connections that make up a correlative link are themselves legitimate links. For example,
(221) makes use of the following individual connections:
(231) a. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> COMMON_NOUN–1

b. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUNSG–1
c. NOUN–1 ––TYP1 ––> NOUNPL–1
d. DETSG–1 ––COM ––> NOUNSG–1

e. DETPL–1 ––COM ––> NOUNPL–1
Thus, it is possible to traverse the network in two ways, either by retrieving the individual
connections or by following the correlative links that express a specific dependency.36
In the LTP, it is also possible to retrieve the links associated with a word sense in a number of other
ways. The routine get_all_links returns a hierarchically ordered list of all the links connected to the
word sense. The routine get_links_X, where X is any theme, returns a hierarchically ordered list
of all X connections from the word sense. For example, get_link_typ2 for ROBIN–1 returns the
following hierarchy:
(232) ROBIN–1
BIRD–1
VERTEBRATE–1
ANIMAL–1
LIVING_THING–1
ENTITY–1
5.10.10 SOME PROBLEMS.
One routine currently being used to test the network involves the completion of analogies like the
following:
(233) a. robin:bird::trout:?
b. robin:fly::trout:?
c. robin:air::trout:?
d. bird:feather::fish:?
e. bird:wing::fish:?
Naturally, completing such analogies entails matching appropriate connections. For example, the
appropriate answer to (233d) is “scale,” while the appropriate answer to (233e) is “fin.” These
answers entail accessing the following links:
378 Chapter Five
(234) a. BIIRD–1 ––IPS ––> FEATHER–1
b. FEATHER–1 ––TYP2 ––> BODY_COVERING–1
c. BIRD–1 ––IPS ––> WING–1
d. WING–1 ––INS ––> FLY–1
e. FLY–1 ––TYP2 ––> LOCOMOTE–1
f. BIRD–1 ––APS ––> NEST–1
(235) a. FISH–1 ––IPS ––> SCALE–1

b. SCALE–1 ––TYP2 ––> BODY_COVERING–1
c. FISH–1 ––IPS ––> FIN–1
d. FIN–1 ––INS ––> SWIM–1
e. SWIM–1 ––TYP2 ––> LOCOMOTE–1
f. FISH–1 ––APS ––> NEST–1
Thus, one major problem for the LTP is simply the effort that it takes to encode all the necessary
connections and the enormity of the resulting network. Further, the greater the number of
connections, the greater the possibility for error during a search. Words like feather, wing, scale and
fin have a variety of meanings, so that the search is very memory intensive, not to mention very
time–consuming. On the other hand, as we have noted, the availability of thematic links like IPS
(inalienable possession) as opposed to APS (alienable possession) increases the specificity of the
connections thereby constraining the search and helping to zero in on the correct solution. A
network consisting of only ISA (TYPOLOGICAL) and HASA (COMPONENTIAL) links lacks this
advantage.
Other related problems, as yet unresolved, involve the manner in which information is to be encoded
and the development of appropriate “inference rules.” For example, if FIN–1 is something that
FISH–1 inalienably possess (IPS), then it follows that FIN–1 is part of FISH–1 and that that
information should not have to be specifically encoded with a CPT link between the two word
senses FIN–1 and FISH–1. But it is not always clear what information should be encoded and what
information should be inferred. Along the same lines, the fins of a different fish are different in
detail from each other, so that each species of fish should have a link to a specific fin; further, the
manner in which fish swim is different from the manner in which other organisms swim. The more
detail that is added to the network, the larger it grows and the more difficult it is to constrain. One
thing is certain: the system of thematic connections between word senses described in this book,
while providing a richer way of encoding information than that found in other networks, also opens
up many areas where further research is clearly needed.
In addition to the fact that most lexical items have multiple meanings, there are many productive
lexical processes in English which allow words to be used in novel, yet predictable, ways. For
example, almost any conveyance can be turned into a verb that means to travel by that conveyance:
(236) a. He kayaked (himself) down the river.

b. She unicycles (herself) all the way to campus every day.
Chapter Five 379
The same is true of a variety of devices, especially those involving communication (Levin 1993:
45–48):
(237) a. They photo–copied the letter.

b. They e–mailed their responses.
c. They kept trying to (short–wave) radio their distress.
While it is fairly straightforward to write algorithms that turn nominal word senses denoting
conveyances and devices into verbs, it is not clear how to constrain the algorithms. For example,
when the means of conveyance is an animal, the results seem questionable, and even particular
motorized conveyances don’t seem especially amenable to the process, though judgements do vary:
(238) a. ?They cameled across the Sahara.

b. ?They elephanted through India last summer.
c. ?They stagecoached west.
d. ?They locomotived to Chicago.
There are similar difficulties with words referring to containers, instruments, appurtenances,
materials, spices, condiments, and so on:
(239) a. They bottled the wine. ?They urned the ashes.

b. They housed the homeless. ?They kitchened the refrigerator.
c. They kenneled the dogs. ?They pastured the cows.
d. They knifed their opponents. ?They daggered their opponents.
e. They carpeted the foyer. ?They rugged the foyer.
f. They over–salted the soup. ?They over–onioned the soup.
The use of various nouns as verbs clearly involves a significant portion of the lexicon. From a
computational point of view, one must consider the extra processing that is required when words are
not directly connected to word senses denoting a particular part of speech. For example, if we want
to derive the verb ferry from the noun ferry or the verb radio from the noun radio, rather than listing
them separately in the network, then the algorithms that effects these derivations must apply each
time a word that points to a conveyance, device, container, etc. is encountered. In the overwhelming
majority of cases, the results of the derivations will parse only when the word is used as a noun, that
is, only the noun and not the derived verb can be merged into a coherent parse tree. In short, the
derivation is a waste of time. Although processing time is irrelevant from a lexicological point of
view, it is not irrelevant computationally. Therefore, verbs like ferry and radio are listed in the
LTP’s network specifically, and the derivational algorithms apply only when the network does not
contain the word, a result that would occur in examples like (238).
The same procedure is used with proper nouns that have been turned into verbs, a fairly frequent
mutation in the media especially when famous people or brand names are involved:
380 Chapter Five
(240) a. He Fred–Astaired her around the room.
b. Wouldn’t you really love to Buick home tonight? (from a commercial)
c. They need to adore me, so Christian–Dior me. (from the musical Evita)
On the other hand, the same procedure will not work for “phrasal words” like the following which
remain a problem and raise the very thorny issue of what exactly a word or word sense can be:
(241) a. Madonna has material–girled her way to superstardom.

b. This movie is clearly the shoot’em–up–est film ever made.
c. Do–it–yourself–ers generally have to call in an expert.
d. Last night’s come–from–behind win by Michigan was an upset.
e. “Could the most anticipated New Year’s Eve party in our lifetimes really usher in a
digital nightmare when our wired–up–the–wazoo civilization grinds to a halt.”
(Newsweek, 6/2/97, p. 54).
The above sketch of the LTP is illustrative only, and many components of the analysis are missing.
In the next three chapters, we will investigate several of the missing details. In Chapter Six, we will
continue the discussion of linking thematic relations with grammatical function and examine various
syntactic alternations of the type most recently discussed in Levin 1993. In the process, we will see
that it is possible to derive many alternative constructions from semantic facts expressed in a
network. In Chapter Seven, we will extend the discussion from thematic relations realized as N3
and P3 to those that are realized as V3 (infinitives and embedded sentences). We would like to be
able to explain why a sentence like *She teared that he lost the race is ungrammatical, yet
interpretable. In Chapter Eight, we will discuss referring expressions (empty categories and
pronouns) and word order variations, which potentially present the most serious challenges to the
grammar/parser proposed here.
Chapter Five 381
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE
1. By “dimensional reading,” I mean that the phrase in the argument position normally filled by a
dimensional expression is interpreted as the relevant dimension (time, price, etc.). For example, in
(4c), peace of mind is the “price” he payed, that is, after NSR, the example reduces to He did not
have peace of mind.
2. Adopting the feature opposition [±DIMENSIONAL], we might classify the problematic

“Genitive of Price” found in Ancient Greek and discussed in the final section of the last chapter as
[+PST, –TMP, +DIM, +DSJ, ±CNJ, –PRX, –EXT, –FST], that is, as a DIMENSIONAL realization
of the ABLATIVE/ABESSIVE thematic relations (see Figure Two on Page 27) as we have
suggested.
3. Notice that the examples in (9) are not interpreted in the same way. NONDIMENSIONAL
expressions like from the shed to the house define a path from a starting place to and an ending
place. On the other hand, DIMENSIONAL expressions like from four to five miles define a range
of measure. Thus, while we have (i), we do not have (ii):
(i) a. He jogged from nearly four to five miles every day.

b. He jogged exactly five miles every day.
(ii) a. *He jogged from nearly the shed to the house.

b. *He jogged exactly (into) town every day.
These differing interpretations are a further reason for including the feature opposition
[±DIMENSIONAL] in our description of thematic relations: [+DIM] expressions involving both
a SOURCE and a GOAL will be interpreted as defining a range of measure; [–DIM] expressions will
be interpreted as defining a path from the SOURCE to the GOAL.
4. As we have seen, these new thematic relations, COMPONENTIAL and TYPOLOGICAL, are
often represented as HASA links and ISA links, respectively, in the literature on semantic networks
(Miller and Fellbaum 1992).
5. For a simplified breakdown of nodes like BODY_OF_WATER–1, see example (116) on Page
419 below. For a more detailed breakdown of BODY_OF_WATER, see WordNet, where a body
of water is categorized under “Sense 2” of the word water as follows (“=>” denotes links in
WordNet):
“Sense 2
body of water, water -- (the part of the earth's surface covered with water)
382 Chapter Five
=> pool -- (a hole filled with water)
=> water jump -- (a pool or stream in a steeplechase or similar contest)
=> swimming pool, swimming bath, natatorium -- (a facility for swimming: "`swimming
bath' is a British term")
=> wading pool -- (a shallow pool for children)
=> cistern -- (an artificial reservoir for storing liquids; esp. an underground tank
for storing rainwater)
=> cesspool, cesspit, sink, sump -- (a covered cistern; waste water and sewage flow
into it)
=> rain barrel -- (a barrel used as a cistern to hold rainwater)
=> waterway -- (a navigable body of water)
=> mare clausum -- ((closed sea) a navigable body of water under the jurisdiction of a
single nation)
=> mare liberum -- ((free sea) a navigable body of water to which all nations have
equal access)
=> ditch
=> rapid -- (a part of a river where the current is very fast)
=> stream, watercourse -- (a natural body of running water flowing on or under the earth)
=> tidal river, tidewater river, tidal stream, tidewater stream -- (a stream in which the
effects of the tide extend far upstream)
=> river -- (a large stream of water)
=> [A very long list of the world’s major rivers]
=> brook, creek
=> branch, feeder, tributary, affluent -- (a stream or river that flows into a larger one)
=> rivulet, rill, run, runnel, streamlet -- (a small stream)
=> main, ocean, sea, briny -- (a very large body of (salt) water)
=> [A list of the world’s oceans, seas, gulfs, and bays]
=>...”
6. The links in semantic networks are bidirectional in the sense that one can search either up or
down the various hierarchies. For example, notice that the following connections are equivalent:
(i) a. LIVING_THING–1 –– TYP2 ––> ENTITY–1

b. ENTITY–1 –– TYP1 ––> LIVING_THING–1
The first link tells us that LIVING_THING–1 is a member of a larger class ENTITY–1; the second
link tells us that the class ENTITY–1 has LIVING_THING–1 as a member. Despite the equivalence
of the two links in examples like (i), the thematic relations involved are different. TYP2 tells us that
the node to the left is a hyponym (smaller class) of the node on the right; TYP1 tells us that the node
on the left is a hypernym (larger class) of the node on the right.
Although we need only mention one thematic relation in the links, both relations are necessary
components of the theory since they occur separately in sentence:
Chapter Five 383
(ii) a. Every robin (TYP2) is a bird (TYP1).
b. The prototypical bird (TYP1) is the robin (TYP2).
The same is true of IPS/ATT and APS/ASC relations:
(iii) a. All birds (IPS) have feathers (ATT).

b. Feathers (ATT) are a characteristic of birds (IPS).
(iv) a. Birds (APS) generally have a nest (ASC).

b. That nest (ASC) belongs to that bird (APS).
Notice also that all links are asymmetrical in the sense of Lyons 1977: Vol. I, Page 154. Thus, while
all robins are birds, not all birds are robins. We will return to this matter below in Section 5.10.
7. Semantic networks expressing links like those in (33), (34), and (35) are useful in accounting for
the many selectional restrictions and syntactic alternations that occur among predicates. We will
discuss this issue further in Section 5.10 at the conclusion of this chapter, and we will make
substantial use of semantic networking in our discussion of Levin’s (1993) verb classes and
alternations in Chapter Six.
8. Similar remarks apply to (25) and (26). The fact that both classifications can be expressed in the
present system does not mean that the system must contain both; one can be included, and the other
derived. On the other hand, it is sometimes more efficient computationally for a system to include
both types of classifications, i.e., both what something is and what something isn’t. For example,
one might wish to say both that a whale is a mammal and a whale is not a fish, since whales have
so many “fishlike” characteristics.
9. When verbs have nonspecific ORIENTATION, an EFC SUBJECT and an ASC PCOMP, the
verbal activity can generally be interpreted in two ways. In one, the EFC willfully performs the
activity specified in the verb; in the other, the EFC unwittingly performs it. The former
interpretation probably, though not necessarily, occurs in (i); the latter, probably, though not
necessarily, in (ii):
(i) John dropped a coin into the wishing well.

(ii) John dropped his wallet somewhere in the park.
Both of these examples could occur with either accidentally or purposely, so each interpretation
regarding the participation of the EFC is possible. As a result, I have ignored this subtlety here.
However, it is worthwhile pointing out that verbs with specific ORIENTATION (GOAL or
SOURCE), such as insert and extract, generally require the willful participation of the EFC.
10. For a list of prepositions associated with each of the thematic relations we have mentioned,
see Figures One and Two on Page 27 and Figures Three and Four on Page 50.
384 Chapter Five
11. (40) is LISP expression. In LISP, lists must be enclosed in paired parentheses preceded by
an apostrophe. The list of elements following the function THEME is given in a specific order:
word sense, grammatical function, thematic relation, syntactic structure, and an obligatoriness factor
with the variations, R (Required), O (Optional and understood reflexively when not overt), or U
(Understood). If one of the items in this specified list is left out, its spot is filled with “NIL” so the
sequence is not lost (see (41) below). A succession of NILs before the right parenthesis can be left
out without disrupting this sequence. Also, the final set of elements, the preposition list, since it is
final, can contain any number of prepositions without disturbing the sequence of the preceding
elements.
Although the Langtech Parser mentioned in this book is coded in C++, I have chosen to express the
functions in LISP because it has more in common with linguistic notation and, therefore, is simpler
to present to readers who may be unfamiliar with programming languages. The original form of all
the LISP functions mentioned in this chapter were coded by Chris Wagner. I will describe the
Langtech Parser in Section 5.10 later in this chapter.
12. Recall that the NIL’s in the function THEME are necessary in LISP to maintain the order of
the elements in the list: word sense, grammatical function, thematic relation, syntactic structure,
obligatoriness code (required, understood, etc.), and preposition list. In the next chapter, I will
present a general unmarked form for all predicates which will allow us to predict which grammatical
functions are filled by which themes and, as a result, to dispense with the ordering requirements.
13. Ultimately, this constraint should also be derivable and not specifically mentioned in a parser.
Among animals, only humans possess natural language as an inalienable attribute so only humans
can be the SUBJECT of verbs of speaking. A sentence like That parrot speaks Greek cannot be
understood in the same way as That woman speaks Greek.
14. There are thematic hierarchies which indicate which themes will fill which grammatical
functions. For example, in English, EFC themes must be the subject in the active if they occur. We
have he killed the mugger with this gun but not *this gun killed the mugger by him, where by him
is EFC. There has been much research on thematic hierarchies across languages (Jackendoff 1972,
1993, Givón 1984, Larsen 1988, Bresnan and Kanerva 1989, Grimshaw 1990, Hale and Keyser
1993), and several different hierarchies have been proposed.
In the present chapter, we will examine a number of constructional variations which involve
promoting or demoting themes to different syntactic positions (SUBJECT, PCOMP, etc.). In
Chapter Six, we will replace these individual variations with a generalized account of thematic
hierarchies.
15. The notions of promotion and demotion described here are similar to advancement and
demotion, respectively, in Relational Grammar (Blake 1990: Chapter One). A defect in that model
and in much other work as well is that one specific sequence is assumed to be somehow more basic
than all other variations. For example, a sentence like I gave John the book is generally viewed as
Chapter Five 385
derived from I gave the book to John by the promotion, advancement or movement of the indirect
object to direct object slot. The difficulty with such analyses is that “derived” variations often exist
with no grammatical “basic” form. We have examples like the following (see Levin 1993: 47):
(i) a. *I bear no ill–will to/for him.

b. I bear him no ill–will.
(ii) a. *I wished great fortune to/for her.

b. I wished her great fortune.
Further, deciding which form is basic and which one is derived often seems arbitrary in light of the
many variations we have considered like the following:
(iii) [NP1 – to NP2] versus [NP2 – with NP1].
e. *He equipped/filled/inundated it to them.

f. He equipped/filled/inundated them with it.
As a result, once we have examined the types of variations that occur, I will propose an unmarked
form for all predicates from which different variations are derived by general principles, including
those variations which are generally described as “base” forms (see Chapter Six, Page 394).
16. A slight complication which I will ignore for the moment is that the INS theme can be present
in the middle alternation (Levin 1993: 240 ff.) although acceptability varies:
(i) This jar will break easily with this hammer.

(ii) *?This jar can break easily with this hammer.
(ii) *?This jar breaks easily with this hammer.
I will discuss the middle alternation in more detail in Section 6.3.3, Page 429 ff.
17. Observe that PD classes are connected to the word sense, not the word. Verbs often have more
than one meaning; for example, break can mean ‘separate into pieces’ (He broke the jar), ‘train’ (He
broke the horse), ‘surpass’ (He broke the record), etc. Only the first meaning is PD1: The jar broke,
*?The horse broke, *The record broke (wrong meaning). Morphological classes work in the same
way. For example, the word tear meaning ‘pull apart’ is irregular (tore, torn), whereas tear meaning
‘shed tears’ is regular (teared).
386 Chapter Five
18. Levin (1993:114) places the verbs drop, lower, lift, and raise into the same class, verbs of
putting with a specified direction. She claims that this class does not allow the causative alternation
(the jar broke versus he broke the jar), which seems correct in most cases. However, drop does
seem to be exceptional. For example, Webster’s Third New International Dictionary gives the
following examples: the book dropped from his hand; tunes dropped into my mind unbidden; she
dropped gracefully into the chair. Levin also classifies drop as a roll verb (p. 264) along with
bounce, drift, float, glide, etc. This class does allow the causative alternation in many cases. Yet,
the examples of drop given in Webster’s clearly involve movement with a specified direction and
not “manners of motion” (p. 265), a characteristic of roll verbs.
Levin further suggests that break, smash, and crack belong to the class break verbs (p. 241) whereas
scratch belongs with cut verbs (p. 156). Since the former class allows causative alternation and the
latter class does not, the examples in (52) would appear to be accounted for. However, the verb
chip, which Levin places in both classes, is a problem. As a cut verb, it does not allow the causative
alternation; as a break verb, it does. The distinction between the classes is as follows: “the break
verbs, unlike the cut verbs, are pure verbs of change of state, and their meaning, unlike that of the
cut verbs, provides no information about how the change of state came about” (p. 242). This
distinction entails that examples like Be careful when you stack those dishes or they will chip and
These dishes will never chip have chip as a break verb, but the examples seem to undermine the
distinction. One might suppose that the examples involve Levin’s middle alternation (Carol cut the
whole wheat bread versus Whole wheat bread cuts easily), which both classes allow. Yet, These
dishes will never chip seems much better than ?This bread will never cut. In any case, putting chip
into both classes does not solve the problem.
Despite these difficulties, I believe that Levin’s approach is correct so I will examine her analyses
in greater detail in Chapter Six.
19. In this example as all others we discussed above, there must be both a SOURCE and a GOAL
conceptually. Thus, even though the cited sentence does not contain a phrase telling us where the
water went during drying, it had to go somewhere. This is indicated, as before, by the “U” in (53).
20. Again, my use of the term incorporation is different from Baker, M. (1988), where
incorporation involves the movement of “an XO from an independent base structure position to
combine it with another XO in the syntax” (p. 22). In English, the closest thing to Baker’s sense of
incorporation occurs in a pair like the following:
(i) a. Kevin tends bar on Friday.

b. Kevin bartends on Friday.
21. Recall that all [+PST, –FST] themes refer to area or volume, i.e., require two dimensional
space at least. The SCT component of all spectrum specifications is represented by themes that are
[–PST, –FST]. Since the SCT names the thing that is transferred, and since positional transference
Chapter Five 387
requires such space, we suggested that movement in an expanse between SOURCE and GOAL has
been extended metaphorically from positional examples to nonpositional ones. Thus, an analogy
can be made between true positional transfer (He put the paint into the garage), on the one hand,
and nonpositional transfer (He gave the paint to Bill) and incorporated transfer (He painted the
wall), on the other. Notice that (i) is a natural question and answer sequence; while (ii) and (iii) are
impossible.
(i) Where did he put the paint?

ANSWER: Into the garage.
(ii) *Where did he give the paint?

ANSWER: To Bill.
(iii) *Where did he paint?

ANSWER: The wall.
Thus, the relations that are [–PST, –FST] serve as the SCT in spectrum specifications, naming the
thing actually or figuratively transferred from one point to another. Further, the GOAL and
SOURCE slots of spectrum specifications are filled by themes that are [–DSJ, ±FST] and [+DSJ,
±FST], respectively (see Figure Five), so they mark the endpoints in the transference.
22. Sentences like a bat is a sort of a bird contain a “hedge,” specifically the phrase sort of. The
term “hedge” is due to Lakoff (1987). For a recent discussion of Lakoff’s work on hedges and a
discussion of prototypes in general, as well as a review of Rosch’s work, see Taylor, J. 1995.
23. As we will see in Section 5.9 (Page 357), there is enough information in the theme list of (82)
to derive the spectrum specification also.
24. Some students, speaking from obvious and regrettable experience, have informed me that He
hurled over the balcony is a perfectly grammatical sentence meaning ‘He vomited over the balcony.’
Such a use of hurl would be handled here by saying that it contains an incorporated word sense
VOMIT–1. This is not the sense of hurl that I have in mind in the examples.
25. Notice that CAI applies only when the theme list does not contain an ASC. A verb like storm
cannot have an ASC realized overtly in the syntax (*They stormed it/them/themselves into the
prison). Thus, CAI is different from the symbol “O” (optional and understood reflexively when
absent) used above in connection with verbs like withdraw or drop, which can have an overt ASC
(They withdrew it/them/themselves from the competition). Further, although there is no ASC in the
theme list of verbs like storm, there is of course an ASC present in the spectrum specification of
storm. This is also true with intransitives like go since, conceptually, someone or something always
moves in every motion predicate: a sentence like Sue went into the house means (roughly) ‘Sue
betook herself into the house.’
388 Chapter Five
26. Observe that P/N3 is merely a convenient abbreviation for a constellation of morphosyntactic
features just as N3 and P3 individually are. Thus, P/N3 is no more or less complicated than N3 or
P3. The entire specification ILL P/N3 is an abbreviation for [+PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, +PRX; –VBL,
+ECH, +X1L]. The first four semantic features define the theme ILLATIVE; the last three
morphosyntactic features define P/N3.
27. In the next chapter, we will broaden the present characterization even further and suggest a
generalized unmarked form for all predicates.
28. As we have noted before, all links in the LTP are asymmetrical in the sense of Lyons: 1977,
Vol. I, Page 154. For example, the link in (i) states that the WREN–1 is a hyponym or BIRD–1, the
larger class or hypernym.
(i) WREN–1 ––TYP2 ––> BIRD–1
Thus, if x is a member of the class WREN–1, then x is a member of the class BIRD–1. On the other
hand, the reverse is not true: not all members of BIRD–1 are wrens.
Sometimes, two word senses point to each other with links that have reverse labels. For example,
to express the fact that every husband has a wife and vice versa, we include the following:
(ii) HUSBAND–1 ––APS ––> WIFE–1
(iii) WIFE–1 ––APS ––> HUSBAND–1
29. Recall that number in determiners is not inherent, so that determiners are characterizers, not
nouns. The specification [+NML] means that a category has inherent number, a feature of all
NOUN–1; [–NML] means that a category lacks inherent number, a feature of all CHAR–1.
Similarly, all members of the category VERB–1 are [–NML], that is, do not have inherent number.
To review previous discussion, the essential point is that we must treat words like those, goes and
woes differently. All three words have an obvious number marking, and a parser should take
advantage of that information. However, if the criterion for the assignment of the feature [+NML]
to a word is simply that fact that it shows an overt number distinction, then the feature [+NML]
becomes useless to distinguish the categorial membership of the three words. Thus, we have made
a distinction between inherent number, a feature of all NOUN–1, and noninherent number, a feature
of all CHAR–1 and VERB–1. A category that is [+NML, 1NUM] is inherently singular; one that
it [–NML, 1NUM] is singular as a result of agreement.
30. Number agreement between determiners and the nouns they specify only exists for common
nouns, a fact we will address in terms of “correlative” links below.
31. One might argue that the agreement relationship between a determiner and a noun is
symmetrical, that is, that the network should also contain the following links:
Chapter Five 389
(i) NOUNSG–1 ––COM ––> DETSG–1
(ii) NOUNPL–1 ––COM ––> DETPL–1
However, these links are not an accurate reflection of the agreement relationship between
determiners and nouns. As we observed in Chapter Three and recount here, common nouns can
occur with an overt determiner (the women, the milk, etc.) or a phonologically null determiner (Ø),
whereas proper nouns cannot (*a Fred, *this Ann, Ø John etc) even though they have number (John
is/*are here). Conversely, most determiners, e.g., the, a/an, no, etc. cannot occur independently.
When a determiner appears stand alone, there is always some noun understood ([u]):
(iii) Give me that [u].
The empty element [u] in (iii) has very specific reference and must refer to something in the context
of the discourse. Thus, the [u] can always be specified as in (iv), and there are no sentences like (v).
(iv) Give me that pen.

(v) *Give me that. (where that does not point to something specific in the context)
In short, determiners are dependent categories that never occur in isolation. Although a word like
those is, all by itself, recognizably plural, the fact is that those never occurs all by itself. Given the
dependent status of determiners, the links in (i) and (ii) do not seem inappropriate.
32. The links in the LTP are transitive in the sense of Lyons, 1977: Vol. 1, Page 154: “..for all
values of x, y, and z, if R(x,y) and R(y,z), then R(x,z).” In other words, if a DETPL–1 is a DET–1
and a DET–1 is a CHAR–1, then DETPL–1 is a CHAR–1. For further discussion of important
issues and different approaches in computational semantics, see Saint–Dizier and Viegas 1995 and
Briscoe et al. 1994. Inheritance systems are discussed in simple, nontechnical language in Miller
and Fellbaum 1992. See also Smith, G. 1991: Section 1.4, Pages 268–274 for a discussion of the
relationship between the links in a network and propositions in first–order predicate calculus.
33. In the Standard Theory of TG (Chomsky 1965), selectional restrictions were stated in terms
of syntactic features. For example, to account for the difference between examples like John killed
a bug and John killed a corpse, bug was assigned the syntactic feature [+ANIMATE], corpse was
assigned the syntactic feature [–ANIMATE], and kill was assigned the selectional restriction that
its direct object had to be [+ANIMATE]. Chomsky’s account quickly became controversial and was
abandoned (for a review of the matter, see Newmeyer 1986: 113–114). The examples just given
show why: accounting for the infelicity of His legs are tearing cannot be achieved by a simple
syntactic restriction on the subject of tear. The matter is complex and goes far beyond a single
syntactic constraint. For example, notice that the word heart is often used metaphorically so that
My heart tears for you is potentially just as good as that old song My heart cries for you. Notice also
that John killed that corpse and John killed that dead man are both acceptable sentences given
particular circumstances. In the approach we have taken here, selectional restrictions are not
attributable to syntactic features of individual lexical items; rather, they are attributable to the
presence or absence of links in a semantic network. They are derivative and scalar, not absolute.
390 Chapter Five
34. The verb tear [tær] (TEAR–2b) in the sense used in the present discussion occurs in several
alternations (Sue tore the pages out of the book, The pages were torn out of the book, The pages tear
out of the book easily, etc.) all of which will be discussed separately in the next chapter in
connection with Levin’s alternations (Levin 1993).
35. Of course, the determiner can be phonologically null (Ø), as we saw in Chapter Three.
36. Like other semantic networks, e.g., WordNet (Miller 1990, Miller and Fellbaum 1992), the
LTP represents each word sense with a unique number to facilitate processing. Thematic relations,
individual links and correlative links are also uniquely specified so that, in the case of correlative
links, the full set of nodes and links is traversed. This is essential since any given node may have
multiple links attached to it.
CHAPTER SIX
6.1 ENCODING THE MEANING OF PREDICATES.
6.1.1 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS.
We have suggested that all predicates must be mapped to spectrum specifications of the following
form (see Page 85):
Predicates vary according to several parameters: they may be CGR (["DSJ, "CNJ] or stative) or
IGR (["DSJ, –"CNJ] or nonstative); positional ([+PST]) or nonpositional ([–PST]); transitive (X1
Level PCOMP) or intransitive (no X1 Level PCOMP). Further, they may have NONSPECIFIC
ORIENTATION, GOAL ORIENTATION, or SOURCE ORIENTATION. Summarizing, we have
examples like the following (see also Section 2.12, A Summary of Spectrum Specifications, Page
126 ff.):
(2) CGR; POSITIONAL; INTRANSITIVE:
A mailbox stood on the corner.

(stand (U ASC LOC1))
(stand (U mailbox corner))
(3) CGR; POSITIONAL; TRANSITIVE:
The pool contains water.

(contain (U ASC LOC2))
(contain (U water pool))
(4) CGR; NONPOSITIONAL; INTRANSITIVE:
The snake is dead.

(dead (U ATT IPS))
(dead (U DEATH–1 snake))
(5) CGR; NONPOSITIONAL; TRANSITIVE:
The baby has freckles.

(have (U ATT IPS))
(have (U freckles baby))
392 Chapter Six
(6) IGR; POSITIONAL; INTRANSITIVE:
The lamp fell off the table.

(fall (CAU ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL))
(fall (CAU FORM–1 AFC) (ELA1 ASC U))
(fall (U FORM–1 table) (table lamp U))
John jumped onto the horse.

(jump (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL))
(jump (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (U ASC ILL1))
(jump (John FORM–1 horse) (U John horse))
(7) IGR; POSITIONAL; TRANSITIVE:
John put the spoon into the cup.

(put (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL))
(put (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (U ASC ILL2))
(put (John FORM–1 cup) (U spoon cup))
John took the gun out of the drawer.

(take (EFC ATT AFC) (ELA_ABL ASC ILL_ALL))
(take (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (ELA2 ASC U))
(take (John FORM–1 drawer) (drawer gun U))
(8) IGR; NONPOSITIONAL; INTRANSITIVE:
The snake died from the heat.

(die (CAU ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
(die (heat DEATH–1 snake) (U heat snake))
The worker sweated from the heat.

(sweat (CAU ATT AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
(sweat (heat SWEAT–1 worker) (U heat worker))
(9) IGR; NONPOSITIONAL; TRANSITIVE:
John killed the snake with poison.

(kill (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))
(kill (John DEATH–1 snake) (U poison snake))
The butler polished the silver.

(polish (EFC ATT AFC) (EFR ASC_INS AFR))
(polish (butler SHINE–1 silver) (U POLISH–1 silver))
Chapter Six 393
6.1.2 THEMATIC HIERARCHIES AND THEME LISTS.
We have proposed thematic hierarchies as follows (see Page 341):
(10) Active Voice Hierarchy; INALIENABLE POSSESSION ([+PROXIMAL]).
a. [–EXT, +FST, +PRX, +DSJ, –CNJ] (EFC) >

c. [–EXT, +FST, +PRX, –DSJ, +CNJ] (AFC) >
d. [+EXT]
(11) Active Voice Hierarchy; ALIENABLE POSSESSION ([–PROXIMAL]).
a. [–EXT, +FST, –PRX, "DSJ, –"CNJ] (EFR or AFR) >

c. [–EXT, +FST, –PRX, –"DSJ, "CNJ] (EFR or AFR) >
d. [+EXT]
As before, the ">" in these hierarchies indicates rank: items to the left of ">" must be subject before
those on the right. The syntactic slots to be filled by these relations, respectively, and the order in
which they are filled are specified in theme lists which have the following form (Page 341):
(12) a. SUBJECT
b. PCOMP (complement to the immediate right of the governing verb)

1. Direct object.
2. Predicate nominative.
c. SCOMP (complement to the immediate right of PCOMP).

1. Object complement.
2. Indirect object.
d. MOD (modifiers; generally X2 level constituents)
Notice that the first three elements of the theme list correspond to the first three elements of the
thematic hierarchies, and these, in turn, correspond to the three elements in the inalienable spectrum
specification. Thus, in the unmarked condition, the SUBJECT is the EFC ([+DSJ, +FST]) in the
spectrum specification, the PCOMP is the SCT ([–PST, –FST]), and the SCOMP is the AFC ([–DSJ,
+FST]). In short, the activity described in a prototypical predicate proceeds from the
EFC/SUBJECT to the AFC/SCOMP, with the SCT/PCOMP marking the thing that “moves”
between the two endpoints.1 Let us assume that this is the general unmarked form (GUF):
394 Chapter Six
(13 ) GENERAL UNMARKED FORM (GUF).
a. The grammatical function (GF) fulfilled by thematic relations are as follows:
1. Themes: EFC SCT AFC

2. Features: [+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST]
3. GF: SUBJECT PCOMP SCOMP
b. The AFC is the GOAL (AFR, ILL, ALL, etc.) in predicates with GOAL
ORIENTATION; it is the SOURCE (EFR, ELA, ABL, etc.) in predicates with
SOURCE ORIENTATION. When the noun serving as the GOAL or SOURCE
cannot be an affected entity, the primary AFC defaults to the AFR, regardless of
where that AFR is in the spectrum specification (see Principle (76) on Page 111).
c. When any member of the above triplet is absent (it is a word sense, it is understood
(U), or it is demoted), its grammatical function is taken by the theme on its
immediate right.2 There are four common instantiations in English depending on the
SCT:
(1) AFC_PCOMP: the SCT is demoted; it becomes a full prepositional phrase if

it is overt (They injected the dye into the patient; They injected the patient with
the dye; They injected the patient). The SCT can also be a word sense (They
broke the jar; They damaged the jar; They did damage to the jar). The verb
is transitive.
(2) PST_PCOMP: the SCT is an understood reflexive if it is not overt (They

entered themselves/Bill into the contest; They entered the contest; *They
entered the contest with themselves). The verb transitive.
(3) AFR_PCOMP: the SCT is demoted; it becomes a second object and must be
overt (They gave the award to Mary; They gave Mary the award; *They gave
Mary with the award). The verb is ditransitive.
(4) SCT_SUBJECT: the SCT becomes the SUBJECT when there is no overt EFC
(They turned the car into an alley; The car turned into an alley). If the EFC
is not overt and the SCT is a word sense; the AFC becomes SUBJECT (They
dried the dishes; The dishes dried (easily)). The verb is intransitive or middle.
d. When the AFC is realized as an N3, it must precede the SCT, that is, the AFC is
PCOMP and the SCT is SCOMP.3
Chapter Six 395
(14 ) AFC PROMOTION TO PCOMP (AFC_PCOMP)
SUBJ VERB PCOMP SCOMP EFC SCT AFC
they injected the dye into the patient they dye patient
they injected the dye they dye U
they injected the patient with the dye they dye patient
they injected the patient they U patient
(15 ) PST PROMOTION TO PCOMP (PST_PCOMP)
SUBJ VERB PCOMP SCOMP EFC SCT AFC_PST
they entered the boy into the contest they boy contest
they entered the contest they SELF-1 contest
(16) AFR PROMOTION TO PCOMP (AFR_PCOMP)
SUBJ VERB PCOMP SCOMP/PCOMP EFC SCT AFC_AFR
they gave the award to Mary they award Mary

they gave Mary the award they award Mary
(17 ) SCT PROMOTION TO SUBJECT (SCT_SUBJECT)
they turned the car into an alley they car alley

the car turned into an alley U car alley
the car turned U car U
they dropped the ball out of their hands they ball hands
the ball dropped out of their hands U ball hands
the ball dropped U ball U
(18) AFC PROMOTION TO PCOMP AND TO SUBJECT (AFC_PCOMP and SCT_SUBJECT)
they did damage to the jar they damage jar

they broke the jar they BREAKAGE-1 jar
the jar broke U BREAKAGE-1 jar
they dried the water from the dishes they water dishes
they dried the dishes they LIQUIDITY-1 dishes
the dishes dried U LIQUIDITY-1 dishes
Under the GUF, the thematic relations and theme list associated with a predicate are unordered.
396 Chapter Six
Further, we can account for alternative constructions without mentioning specific promotion (or
demotion) classes.
Perhaps, the most innovative aspect of the GUF is that it makes the SCOMP part of the prototypical
predicate (the “action chain” in Cognitive Grammar; see Endnote 1). The data presented in Chapter
Two demand a GOAL and/or SOURCE in every spectrum specification at least conceptually. Most
predicates have one specific ORIENTATION, either GOAL ORIENTATION or SOURCE
ORIENTATION. If the theme list contains a [–DSJ, +CNJ] relation in SCOMP, the predicate has
GOAL ORIENTATION; if it contains a [+DSJ, –CNJ] in SCOMP, the predicate has SOURCE
ORIENTATION. Thus, ["DSJ, –"CNJ] themes function as the SCOMP, most often a prepositional
phrase. They also designate the primary AFC, the primary entity affected in the predication. As a
result, the following two sets of sentences are viewed as equally prototypical:
(19) GOAL ORIENTATION.
a. John inserted the key into the lock.

b. John gave the book to Bill.
c. John encouraged/persuaded Sue to go.
d. John inflated the balloon.
e. John contaminated the specimen.
f. John corked the bottle.
g. John inhumed the body.
(20) SOURCE ORIENTATION.
a. John extracted the key from the lock.

b. John took the book from Bill.
c. John discouraged/dissuaded Sue from going.
d. John deflated the balloon.
e. John decontaminated the specimen.
f. John uncorked the bottle.
g. John exhumed the body.
Languages contain a multitude of pairs like the respective examples in (19) and (20).4 In fact, Roget
organized his original 1852 thesaurus of English around such pairs: Combination is paired with
Disintegration, Affirmation is paired with Denial, Approval is paired with Disapproval, and so on
for a very large number of pairs which still form the basis of current editions. As a result of the
GUF, we need not say that examples like those in (20) are in any way aberrant because they
designate a SOURCE rather than a GOAL. Crucially, in both (19) and (20), the GOAL and the
SOURCE phrases, are the primary AFC. Thus, when the SCT is nonovert (13c), as it is in both
(19d) and (20d), the “action chain” terminates in the primary AFC, which is the PCOMP; in the
former, that AFC is connected to the GOAL; in the latter; it is connected to the SOURCE.
6.1.3 PROMOTION.
Chapter Six 397
In the preceding chapter we attempted to account for syntactic variation within the thematic
hierarchies and the theme list with a generalized account of promotion (Page 356):
(21) PROMOTION.
a. SCOMP1 PROMOTION includes AFC_PCOMP, PST_PCOMP, and AFR_PCOMP.
1. AFC_PCOMP relates present it to them and present them with it.

2. PST_OBJ relates enter (oneself) in the contest and enter the contest.
3. AFR_PCOMP relates give it to them and give them it (dative alternation).
b. PCOMP PROMOTION includes SCT_SUBJECT, which relates he dropped the ball

and the ball dropped as well as he broke the jar and the jar broke.
We can eliminate specific mention of these promotion classes by making use of the information
originally stated as the LISP function THEME (Page 325). Recall that THEME connects a predicate
to a grammatical function like SUBJECT, a specific theme like EFC, and a syntactic specification
like N3; in addition, a specification is given as to whether the theme is required (R), reflexive if
omitted (O), or understood if omitted (U); lastly, a preposition list is appended. We have seen
examples like the following:
(22) DROP–1
a. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SUBJECT EFFECTIVE N3 R BY–1))

b. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 PCOMP ASSOCIATIVE N3 O WITH–1))
c. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP1 ILLATIVE C3 U INTO–1 IN–1 ONTO–1 ON–1))
d. (THEME ‘(DROP–1 SCOMP2 ELATIVE C3 U FROM–1 OUT_OF–1 OFF_OF–1))
For convenience, let us abbreviate the five specifications of THEME as follows:
(23) Specification Abbrev Examples
a. Grammatical Function GF SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP

b. Thematic Relation TR EFC, ASC, ILL, ELA, etc.
c. Syntactic Structure SS N3, C3, V3, etc.
d. Obligatoriness Code OC R (Required)
O (Omissible and interpreted reflexively when absent)
U (Understood)
e. Preposition List PL FROM–1, OUT_OF–1, OFF_OF, etc.
Since the OC will figure prominently in the discussion below and since our representations have
changed somewhat in the course of the preceding chapters as the exposition evolved, we need to
clarify what the OC means.
398 Chapter Six
First, the OC refers to the surface form of a sentence: “R” means that the theme is required in the
overt form of the sentence; “O” means that the theme need not occur in the overt form of the
sentence, and that, when it is absent, it is understood reflexively as referring back to whatever theme
is in SUBJECT position; lastly, “U” means that the theme need not occur in the overt form of the
sentence, and that, when it is absent, it is understood conceptually.5
Second, any theme marked with an OC must still be present conceptually, that is, in the underlying
representation or theme list. Consider, for example, the difference between put, insert, and rush.
(24) put: both the PCOMP and the SCOMP are R, that is, Required in any overt sentence with
put.
a. He put the book on the shelf.

b. *He put the book.
c. *He put on the shelf.
(25) insert: the SCOMP is U, that is, not present overtly but Understood conceptually.
a. He inserted the key into the lock.

b. He inserted the key.
c. *He inserted (into the lock).
(26) rush: the PCOMP is O, that is, understood reflexively when not overt; the SCOMP is U,
that is not present overtly but Understood conceptually.
a. He rushed the children to school.

b. He rushed (himself) to school.
c. He is always rushing (himself) (somewhere).
With these clarifications, suppose we now say that each of the five specifications of THEME are
actually part of the meaning of a predicate, in particular, that SS, OC and PL are not idiosyncratic
variations, but reflections of what the predicate’s meaning profiles.6 To see how this might work
consider again the following canonical examples from Chapter Two, which began our inquiry:

Chapter Six 399
Making use of both the semantic and morphosyntactic features presented in the preceding chapters,
we can simplify the lexical entries for all the above predicates. Consider the following
specifications where the lists of themes are unordered and devoid of all redundancies and where
P/N3, as before, abbreviates the feature cluster [–VBL, +ECH, +X1L], the set of features
distinguishing prepositions and nouns from all other syntactic categories.7
(28) a. present EFC ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3

b. supply EFC ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3
c. furnish EFC ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3
(29) a. give EFC ASC AFR P/N3

b. sell EFC ASC AFR P/N3
c. teach EFC ASC U AFR P/N3
(30) a. equip EFC ASC C3 U AFR N3 R

b. fill EFC ASC C3 U AFR N3 R
c. inundate EFC ASC C3 U AFR N3 R
We have argued for the following redundancies (Page 338) for each GF:
(31) GF SS OC
a. SUBJECT N3 R
b. PCOMP N3 R
c. SCOMP C3 U
Following the GUF, in all of the above predicates, the EFC theme would be SUBJECT, the ASC
theme would be PCOMP, and the AFR theme would be SCOMP in the active. Further, the
unmarked ASC preposition would be with; the unmarked AFR preposition would be to.
Given this, we know that the examples in (28) will allow AFC_PCOMP without mentioning it
specifically because it is encoded already in the SS and OC associated with the themes. The ASC
theme is marked P/N3, which means it can be realized as a P3 or as an N3. Given the GUF, the
predicates must have subjects and complements in syntactic structure. Since the ASC can be either
a C3 or N3, it follows that the AFR can also be C3 or N3. Thus, we have both (27a) and (27b).
Further, the OC of the ASC is R and the OC of the AFR is U since there is no marked OC given in
either. This means that we have sentences like they supply the books (to the students) but not *they
supply the students where students is the AFR.
In (29), there are two special markings. The first allows the AFR to be an N3 as well as a P3 (the
SS of the ASC is unmarked so it must be N3). When the AFR is a P3, we have (27c); since the
ASC can only be an N3, we do not get (27d). When the AFR is an N3, it must precede the ASC
according to the GUF. We, therefore, also account for (32).
400 Chapter Six
(32) He gave/sold/taught them (it).
The second special marking in (29) is the U after the ASC of teach. This allows both he teaches
linguistics and he teaches undergraduates. Note that while we have he sells cars to executives and
he sells cars, we do not have *he sells executives, where executives is AFR.
In (30), the ASC theme is marked C3 meaning it must occur in a P3 with the head with. Since a
PCOMP N3 is required, the AFR must fill that slot. We, therefore, account for the ungrammaticality
of (27e) and the grammaticality of (27f).
Given this description, we can say that different predicates profile different themes in their meaning,
and that profiled themes are the ones that have the grammatical function subject and direct object.8
In all the above verbs, the EFC is profiled as SUBJECT following the GUF. Further, give, sell, and
teach profile the ASC alone or both the AFR and the ASC, in that order. Given the syntactic
framework of Chapter Three, we can account for these alternations, specifically for the double object
construction (Larson 1988, 1990; Jackendoff 1990) in a verb like give, with the following
representations:9
(33) He gave it to them. (AFR realized as the overt preposition to)
[V3 he PST [V1 [V0 give] [N3 it] [C3 [C1 [C0 AFR: to] [N3 them]]]]]
(34) He gave them it.10
[V3 he PST [V1 [V1 [V0 give] [N3 them]] [N3 it]]]
On the other hand, equip, fill, and inundate profile the AFR only:
(35) He filled them with it. (ASC realized as the overt preposition with)
[V3 he PST [V1 [V0 fill] [N3 them] [C3 [C1 [C0 ASC: with] [N3 it]]]]]
Lastly, present, supply, and furnish profile either the ASC alone or the AFR alone:
(36) He presented it to them. (AFR realized as the overt preposition to)
[V3 he PST [V1 [V0 present] [N3 it] [C3 [C1 [C0 AFR: to] [N3 them]]]]]
(37) He presented them with it. (ASC realized as the overt preposition with)
[V3 he PST [V1 [V0 present] [N3 them] [C3 [C1 [C0 ASC: with] [N3 it]]]]]
In short, the thematic specifications in (28), (29), and (30) do not represent lexical idiosyncrasies;
rather, they represent differences in the predicates’ meanings, specifically, what the predicates
Chapter Six 401
profile. We do not need to assume any movement analysis in the above account; for example, one
does not have to derive double object constructions from the alternative with the overt dative, nor
does one have to derive one of the alternatives for a verb like present from the other. The lexical
specifications simply mark alternative ways in which thematic relations can be directly realized.
Among lexical redundancies, we included the following redundancy for the passive (see Page 339):
(38) Transitive IGR (INGRESSIVE; ["DSJ, –"CNJ]) verbs allow PASSIVE.
If PASSIVE occurs, then ASC is a Required N3 subject, and EFC is an Optional C3

governed by the preposition BY–1.
Given the GUF, we must revise this to the following:
(39) Transitive IGR (INGRESSIVE; ["DSJ, –"CNJ]) verbs allow PASSIVE.
If PASSIVE occurs, then the EFC or other causative theme (EXP or CAU) is an Optional
C3 governed by the preposition BY–1, and the SUBJECT is any other theme with an N3
SS (with the Syntactic Structure of N3).
The thematic specifications in (28), (29), and (30) indicate that all the verbs are IGR predicates; they
all have an EFC theme and a potential SCOMP which is ["DSJ, –"CNJ]. Also, they are all
transitive since they all have at least one theme other than the EFC with the syntactic structure of
a noun phrase. In the case of (28), either the ASC or the AFR can be PCOMP since both have an
N3 SS as part of their specifications. Thus, they allow two passives, e.g., An award was presented
to him and He was presented with an award. In (29), two passives are also allowed because both
the ASC (obligatorily) and the AFR (optionally) have an N3 SS; recall that an N3 AFR must precede
the ASC according to the GUF. Thus, we have both An award was given to him and He was given
an award. In (30), only one passive is possible since there is only one theme other than the EFC
with an N3 SS. Thus, we have only passives with AFR subjects like He was equipped with the
necessary supplies.
As the above discussion indicates, the passive is not viewed here as a transformation of the active.
Rather, it is an optional way of mapping thematic relations onto surface syntax. If the conditions
as stated above are present in the verb’s thematic specification, then the verb can surface in either
an active or a passive form. For English, we must further stipulate that the passive variation can
only occur in the presence of PSVP, the passive participle marker.
The essential, perhaps universal, feature of the passive is the reversal of the prototypical order of
thematic relations. As Palmer (1994: 117) notes in his discussion of a universal description of
passive, “It can be said that the basic functions of the passive are the promotion of the Patient (or
non–Agent) and the demotion or deletion of the Agent.” In terms of the GUF, the “Patient” is any
non–EFC theme which can surface as an N3. For the verbs in (28) and (29), this is either the ASC
or the AFR; for the verbs in (30), this is only the AFR. Thus, our account of the passive is different
402 Chapter Six
from transformational accounts, which have characterized the active/passive relation as changes in
constituent structure since Chomsky 1957, but is similar, in general orientation, to accounts in case
grammar, which have characterized the active/passive relation as changes in the realization of
thematic relations since Fillmore 1968.
A full theory of profiling merged with the system proposed here, could remove any circularity from
the above account. One could argue that stipulating lexically the constructional variations that occur
with a verb like present or give does not explain their syntax, only merely accounts for their syntax.
On the other hand, I am trying to argue that the above account is more than notational legerdemain,
that the actual meaning of a predicate allows varying profiles of the participants in the “action
chain.” My reason for making this suggestion is that I am not aware of any syntactic or (traditional)
semantic justification whatsoever that would explain the following examples:11
(40) a. We permitted him an extension.

b. *We permitted an extension to him.
(41) a. *We submitted him a proposal.

b. We submitted a proposal to him.
Notice that there is a clear difference between permit and submit, in particular, that permission is
commonly requested by the AFR, whereas submission entails no such involvement of the AFR. A
similar distinction between some uses of the dative and the accusative in German is examined by
Smith 1993, 1996. The suggestion here is that the concept of profile can be used to account for the
above differences. Specifically, we might say that permit profiles only the AFR in PCOMP position
perhaps because the AFR is more intimately involved in the permission, whereas submit profiles
only the ASC as PCOMP perhaps because the involvement of the AFR is peripheral. Other verbs
lend themselves easily to such an account. Consider the following:
(42) a. He poured the water into the pool.

b. *He poured the pool with water.
(43) a. *He filled the water into the pool.

b. He filled the pool with water.
(44) a. He stuffed the cotton into the sack.

b. He stuffed the sack with cotton.
The different constructions with pour, fill and stuff might be accounted as follows. Pour profiles
the liquid ASC as PCOMP; indeed, the verb pour seems to incorporate a concept of “copious
flowing” directly into its meaning, a particular manner of movement derived from the nature of
liquids. Notice that metaphorical uses imply just that: the fans poured out of the stadium. On the
other hand, fill seems to incorporate the concept of a container directly into its meaning, and it
profiles the container ASC as PCOMP A sentence like He filled the driveway with water is only
possible if the driveway can somehow contain the water.12 Stuff involves both a manner of
Chapter Six 403
movement and a container, so it admits both the into–construction and the with–construction, the
differences in meaning observed by others (Anderson 1971; Fillmore 1977) perhaps attributable to
just those differences in profiling..
While it is not particularly difficult to think of exceptions to the above suggestions, such
“exceptions” may be due to the lack of detail in the characterization. As such detail is supplied, the
number of correct predictions increases. Pinker (1989: 124–130) describes seven subclasses of
container–oriented verbs and uses this detail to predict the kind of structures that occur with specific
verbs. For example, when a verb describes the distribution of objects over a surface (bombard, blot,
dapple, riddle, speckle, splotch, spot, stud, etc.), only the with–variation occurs: They studded the
coat with metal stars./*They studded metal stars onto the coat. Although Pinker’s agenda is
different from ours, his analyses support the suggestions made here.13
The concept of profiling as used here may indeed be derivative, that is, there may be some as yet
unknown semantic or syntactic aspect of a verb like donate which constrains it from occurring with
two objects. In this regard, the following comments by Levin (1993: 12 ff.) are appropriate:
“Although no one is likely to deny that words of similar meaning show at least some
tendency toward displaying the same syntactic behavior, the hypothesis that the
syntactic behavior of a word is fully semantically determined is not uncontroversial.
Many researchers have argued that this hypothesis must be rejected, citing numerous
purported counterexamples to it. Nevertheless, the meaning of a verb does have
considerable predictive ability...suggesting that the ties between a verb’s meaning
and its syntactic behavior cannot simply be ignored.” (Page 12)
“If the hypothesis that syntactic properties are semantically determined is taken
seriously, then the task is to determine, first, to what extent the meaning of a verb
determines its syntactic behavior, and second, to the extent that syntactic behavior
is predictable, what components of verb meaning figure in the relevant
generalizations.” (Page 14)
I have suggested that the five specifications in (23) figure in the relevant generalizations to
determine what exactly a verb can profile in an action chain. Let us assume henceforth, that a fully
adequate theory of predicate profiling exists (see the suggested semantic networks below), and that
the following conventions for theme lists are the mechanism whereby this theory is encoded. At
worst, what we will have is a rather simple and generalizable account of such alternations, in
particular, one that requires no syntactic movement rules to derive one construction from another,
and one that can be directly connected to the typology of predicates we have proposed. Of course,
I hope to convince the reader that much more than that is possible. My objective will be to specify
predicates in sufficient semantic detail to show that Levin’s syntactic alternations can indeed be
predicted from the semantics.
6.1.4 THEMATIC REDUNDANCIES.

404 Chapter Six
We have suggested redundancies for the realization of thematic relations in the active voice (see
Page 338). The following list includes those redundancies already mentioned and a few other
common ones as well:
(45) The presence of POSITIONAL themes in the spectrum specification means the verb is
POSITIONAL; this, together with the presence of IGR means that a verb like insert is a
movement verb effecting a change in position.
(46) The presence of a [–DISJUNCTURAL] theme in SCOMP1 slot indicates GOAL

ORIENTATION (insert); the presence of [+DISJUNCTURAL] in this position denotes
SOURCE ORIENTATION (extract).
(47) In GOAL ORIENTATION, the theme in INALIENABLE GOAL slot is the same entity
as the theme in ALIENABLE GOAL slot. Thus, in insert, the ILL is also AFC. In
SOURCE ORIENTATION, the theme in INALIENABLE GOAL slot is the same entity
as the theme in ALIENABLE SOURCE slot. Thus, in extract, the ELA is AFC. In the
transference of a object, the FORM–1 of both the GOAL and the SOURCE is affected, but
predicates generally stress one over the other. In insert the ALIENABLE GOAL is
stressed; in extract, the ALIENABLE SOURCE. The key to ORIENTATION is which
theme is mentioned in the theme list. Insert mentions ILL; extract mentions ELA.
(48) The unmarked form for the theme in PCOMP slot is N3, and it is Required. Other
possibilities are marked, which means they must be specifically listed, e.g., rely on has a
C3 PCOMP.
(49) Transitive IGR (INGRESSIVE; ["DSJ, –"CNJ]) verbs allow PASSIVE. If PASSIVE
occurs, then the EFC or other causative theme (EXP or CAU) is an Optional C3 governed
by the preposition BY–1, and the SUBJECT is any other theme with an N3 SS (with the
Syntactic Structure of N3), e.g., The key was inserted (by the janitor); The trees were
uprooted (by the wind); He was killed (by a car).
(50) EFC (EFFECTIVE) subjects in the active; THE JANITOR stuck the key into the lock:
a. Are AGENT–1 unless otherwise specified, e.g., AGENT–2.

b. Are N3.
c. Are R(equired).
(51) ASC (ASSOCIATIVE) complements; The janitor stuck THE KEY into the lock:
a. Are [–PST].
b. Are N3.
c. Are R(equired).
Chapter Six 405
When a predicate is marked for an ASC theme that is a P3, then the P3 is governed by
WITH–1 if the predicate has GOAL ORIENTATION (He filled the pool WITH WATER)
and OF–1 if it has SOURCE ORIENTATION (He deprived them OF THEIR RIGHTS).
(52) NASC (NONASSOCIATIVE) complements; They barred THE STREET to traffic:
a. Are [–PST].
b. Are N3.
c. Are R(equired).
When a predicate is marked for an NASC theme that is a P3, then the P3 is governed by
the preposition FROM–1 (He excluded them FROM THE CEREMONY).
(53) ILL (ILLATIVE) complements; The janitor stuck the key INTO THE LOCK:
a. Are [+PST], generally [PST4].

b. Are C3.
c. Are U(nderstood) if not specifically listed.
d. Are specifically listed only in verbs with GOAL ORIENTATION.
e. Are governed by the prepositions INTO–1 or IN–1.
(54) ELA (ELATIVE) complements; The janitor yanked the key OUT OF THE LOCK:

b. Are C3.
d. Are specifically listed only in verbs with SOURCE ORIENTATION.
e. Are governed by the prepositions OUT_OF–1 or FROM–1.
(55) ALL (ALLATIVE) complements; The soldiers advanced TOWARD THE BARRICADE:

b. Are C3.
e. Are governed by the prepositions TO–1 or TOWARD–1.
(56) ABL (ABLATIVE) complements; The soldiers retreated FROM THE BARRICADE:

b. Are C3.
e. Are governed by the prepositions FROM–1 or AWAY_FROM–1.
406 Chapter Six
(57) AFR (AFFERENTIAL) complements; John sold a car TO BILL:
a. Are [–PST].
b. Are C3.
e. Are governed by the preposition TO–1.
(58) EFR (EFFERENTIAL) complements; Bill bought a car FROM JOHN:
a. Are [–PST].
b. Are C3.
e. Are governed by the preposition FROM–1.
(59) INS (INSTRUMENTAL) modifiers; The gardener fertilized the bushes WITH MANURE:
a. Are [–PST].
b. Are C3.
c. Are governed by the preposition WITH–1.
In the discussion which follows, we assume that all the above redundancies are in force.
6.2 VERB CLASSES AND STRUCTURAL ALTERNATIONS.
Consider again the three sets of sentences from Chapter Two with which we began our discussion
of thematic relations and constructional alternations:

Chapter Six 407
(61) [NP1 – from NP2] versus [NP2 – of NP1].

c. He took/bought/got it from them.

d. *He took/bought/got them of it.
e. *He deprived/disabused/relieved it from them.

f. He deprived/disabused/relieved them of it.
(62) [NP1 – to NP2] versus [NP2 – from NP1].
a. He barred/closed off it to them.

b. He barred/closed off them from it.

Making use of both the semantic and morphosyntactic features presented in the preceding chapters,
we can simplify the lexical entries for all the above predicates. Consider the following lexical
entries, where, as before, P/N3 = [–VBL, +ECH, +X1L], the morphosyntactic features distinguishing
P3 (prepositional phrases) and N3 (noun phrases) from all other syntactic categories, and where the
theme lists are unordered and devoid of all redundancies.
(63) a. present EFC ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3

b. supply EFC ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3
c. furnish EFC ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3
(64) a. give EFC ASC AFR P/N3

b. sell EFC ASC AFR P/N3
c. teach EFC ASC U AFR P/N3
(65) a. equip EFC ASC C3 U AFR N3 R

b. fill EFC ASC C3 U AFR N3 R
c. inundate EFC ASC C3 U AFR N3 R
(66) a. rob EFC ASC P/N3 EFR P/N3

b. strip EFC ASC P/N3 EFR P/N3
c. drain EFC ASC P/N3 EFR P/N3
408 Chapter Six
(67) a. take EFC ASC EFR
b. buy EFC ASC EFR
c. get EFC ASC EFR
(68) a. deprive EFC ASC C3 U EFR N3 R

b. disabuse EFC ASC C3 U EFR N3 R
c. relieve EFC ASC C3 U EFR N3 R
(69) a. bar EFC NASC P/N3 AFR P/N3

b. close off EFC NASC P/N3 AFR P/N3
(70) a. deny EFC NASC AFR P/N3

b. begrudge EFC NASC AFR P/N3
c. refuse EFC NASC AFR P/N3
(71) a. ban EFC NASC C3 U EFR N3 R

b. exclude EFC NASC C3 U EFR N3 R
c. discourage EFC NASC C3 U EFR N3 R
Notice that the double object construction is only possible in (64) and (70),14 specifically only with
predicates with GOAL (AFR) ORIENTATION that profile the ASC or NASC (see Chapter Two,
Page 105).15
Further, the spectrum specifications for the above predicates, which are directly derivable from the
unordered theme lists, are as follows:
(72) present, supply, furnish; give, sell, teach; equip, fill, inundate:
(EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR) GOAL ORIENTATION; AFR is

mentioned in theme list so AFR is AFC
(73) rob, strip, drain; deprive, disabuse, relieve; take, buy, get:
(EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR) SOURCE ORIENTATION; EFR is

mentioned in theme list so EFR is AFC
(74) bar, close off; deny, begrudge, refuse; ban, exclude, discourage:
(EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR NASC AFR) GOAL ORIENTATION; AFR is

mentioned in theme list so AFR is AFC
As we suggested above (Page 402), the thematic specifications, particularly, the SS and OC, indicate
what the above verbs profile. A verb like pour seems to incorporate a concept of “copious
flowing” directly into its meaning so it profiles the liquid ASC as PCOMP; hence, we do not get *He
Chapter Six 409
poured the pool with water. On the other hand, a verb like fill seems to incorporate the concept of
a container directly into its meaning, and it profiles the container ASC as PCOMP; hence, we do not
get *He filled the water into the pool.
A verb like deprive, which has SOURCE ORIENTATION, profiles that SOURCE obligatorily (note
the specification “EFR N3 R”). The emphasis in deprivation is generally on the dispossession of
something that the EFR owns, has a right to, or eagerly wants, e.g., we would say that a child has
been deprived of piano lessons only if the child had wanted piano lessons. Similarly, one is not
likely to say that a doctor has deprived his patient of a disease, since few patients want to be sick.
The disposition of the EFR is therefore prominent in uses of deprive and its derivatives. Hence, we
have They deprived the children of piano lessons, deprived children, and such deprivation of
children, but not *They deprived piano lessons from the children, *deprived piano lessons, or *such
deprivation of piano lessons. In short, the specification “EFR N3 R” is not an idiosyncratic list of
the peculiarities of the verb deprive. Notice the increasing uninterpretability of the following as the
verb deprive is used further and further from its core specifications:
(75) a. *My wages have been deprived to me.

b. *I have been deprived out of my wages.
c. **I have been deprived with my wages.
d. ***I have been deprived under my wages.
A grammar must account for levels of interpretability like the above. I can imagine people speaking
of deprived rights, for example, perhaps because rights are constitutionally considered inalienable
possessions in America, but the usage must be considered somewhat peculiar grammatically given
the many parallel phrases which are bizarre, e.g., *deprived coffee/automobiles/money/integrity/etc.
6.3 LEVIN’S ALTERNATIONS.
Consider now how we might use the above framework to codify some of the alternations specified
in Levin 1993, an extraordinarily useful book without which the following discussion would have
become much more difficult.
To begin, recall the following distinction made in Chapter Two:
We equate FORM–1 changes with the changes that occur in change–of–position

verbs like go, move, enter, exit, insert, and extract, as well as verbs like give, take,
and sell. FORM–2 changes are equated with the changes that occur in
change–of–state verbs including physiological changes (kill), mental changes
(teach), compositional changes (melt), and the like. The most important difference
between FORM–1 and FORM–2 concerns RECIPROCITY. Changes in FORM–1
are reciprocal; changes in FORM–2 are nonreciprocal.
410 Chapter Six
This distinction figures prominently in Levin’s verb classes as we will see. In the present system,
change–of–position verbs and change–of–state verbs are formally distinguished by one aspect of
their theme list, namely, the occurrence of a word sense indicating a FORM–1 or FORM–2 change,
respectively.
6.3.1 OMISSION ALTERNATIONS.
A number of Levin’s alternations primarily involve the omission of a thematic relation. These
include the understood reflexive object alternation, the understood body part alternation, and the
locative preposition drop alternation.
6.3.1.1 UNDERSTOOD REFLEXIVE OBJECT ALTERNATION.
Consider first the understood reflexive object alternation (Levin 1993: 35–36), which accounts for
the relationship between the following:
(76) a. Jill dressed herself hurriedly.

b. Jill dressed hurriedly.
We have seen this alternation in our discussion of motion verbs in Chapter Five, Section 5.7 (Page
337) and also in the thematic specifications for DROP–1 in (22) above. Up to this point in the
exposition, we have accounted for the alternation by marking the relevant theme in the theme list
with an “O” meaning optional in the overt form of a sentence and understood reflexively when not
overt. In our previous examples, “O” has contrasted with “U” (=understood). Let us now add these
specifications to the network.
An understood theme is interpreted as some particular class of items, e.g., the verb eat has a
correlative link to an object that inalienably possesses the attribute EDIBLE–1 (see Levin’s
Unspecified Object Alternation 1993:33). An “O” theme is interpreted reflexively, either referring
to an entire entity as in He dressed (himself) or to some part of an entity as in He waved (his hand);
see Page 325. We express these classes with the following links which specify the distinction
between the notation “U” and “O” that we have been using up to this point to mark the
Obligatoriness Code; see Page 325:16
(77) a. OBLIG_CODE ––TYP1 ––> UNDERSTOOD–1

b. OBLIG_CODE ––TYP1 ––> REQUIRED-1
c. UNDERSTOOD–1 ––TYP1 ––> UNDERSTOOD–1a

d. UNDERSTOOD–1 ––TYP1 ––> UNDERSTOOD–1b
e. UNDERSTOOD–1a ––IPS ––> ELLIPTICAL–1

f. UNDERSTOOD–1b ––TYP1 ––> UNDERSTOOD–1b1
Chapter Six 411
g. UNDERSTOOD–1b ––TYP1 ––> UNDERSTOOD–1b2
h. UNDERSTOOD–1b1 ––IPS ––> SELF–1
i. UNDERSTOOD–1b2 ––IPS ––> BOUND_POSSESSIVE–1
The verbs illustrating these classes (read, move, and wave) have the ASC–1 links in (78). As before,
the equal sign indicates a correlative link and the double arrow indicates a long distance correlative
link (see Page 374 ff.). The first correlative link in (78a) means that READ–1 has a
COMPONENTIAL1 (CPT1) link to ASC–1 which, in turn, has an INALIENABLE POSSESSION
(IPS) link to UNDERSTOOD–1. The second correlative link in (78a) means further that the ASC–1
must point to something that has a link to READING_MATERIAL–1.17
(78) a. READ–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1a

READ–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==>> READING_MATERIAL–1
b. MOVE–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b1
c. WAVE–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b2

WAVE–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==>> HAND–1, etc.
These specific correlative links operate in addition to any links that a thematic component inherits
from the redundancies we itemized in Section 6.1.4 above. When there is an apparent conflict, the
mentioned link overrides the inherited (redundant) link (see the discussion of the LTP in Section
5.10). To see how this works, consider the theme list for dress (the verb of Levin’s example) which
includes the following COMPONENTIAL1 links:
(79) a. DRESS–1 ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1

b. DRESS–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==APS ==>> CLOTHING–1
c. DRESS–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> INCORPORATED–1
d. DRESS–1 ==CPT1 ==> AFR–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b1
The verb dress involves the putting of clothing, which is an alienable possession (APS), on a
recipient (AFR–1). CLOTHING–1 is an incorporated word sense and not realized overtly (She
dressed the children means ‘She put clothing on the children’).18 Thus, in accordance with the GUF,
the AFR–1 component of DRESS–1 fills the PCOMP slot when it is overt (She dressed the
children). Since the AFR–1 component of DRESS–1 is linked to UNDERSTOOD–1b1, the verb
is understood reflexively when there is no overt recipient expressed in a sentence, i.e., She dressed
means ‘She dressed herself’ or ‘She put clothing on herself.’
Like all other themes, the AFR theme has a link to a corresponding word sense, AFR–1, from which
it inherits the unmarked attributes of all AFR themes, e.g., a set of semantic features that AFR
abbreviates, a set of syntactic features indicating the unmarked syntactic structure for the theme, a
specification about whether it is required or optional, and so on (see the redundancies in (57) earlier
in this chapter and also example (170) on Page 365):
412 Chapter Six
(80) a. AFR–1 ––IPS ––> [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX, +FST, –EXT]
b. AFR–1 ––IPS ––> [–VBL, –NML, +OPH, –OCL, +X1L, +X3L]
c. AFR–1 ––IPS ––> UNDERSTOOD–1a
d. AFR–1 ––CPT1 ––> TO–1
(80) says that the word sense AFR–1 is the inalienable possessor (IPS) of three attributes: (a) a set
of semantic features which we have abbreviated as AFR; (b) a set of morphosyntactic features
which we have abbreviated as P3; and, (c) a stipulation that the theme is understood elliptically
when not overt. It also contains (d) a stipulation that TO–1 is a component of the AFR–1
component. These are the unmarked specifications.
The correlative link (79d) and the inherited link (80c) contain understood themes,
UNDERSTOOD–1b1and UNDERSTOOD–1a, respectively. Both are linked to OBLIG_CODE
(Obligatoriness Code). Since a theme can only have one Obligatoriness Code, the mentioned link
(79d) overrides the inherited link (80c).19 As a result, DRESS–1 is specified by all the inherited
semantic and syntactic features spaces for unmarked AFR–1 except that it is understood reflexively
rather than elliptically.
Consider now the ASC–1 component of DRESS–1. The unmarked specifications for all ASC–1
components is as follows (see (51) earlier in this chapter):
(81) a. ASC–1 ––IPS ––> [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX, –FST, –EXT]
b. ASC–1 ––IPS ––> [–VBL, +NML, +OCL]
c. ASC–1 ––IPS ––> REQUIRED–1
The redundancies in (81) say that the word sense ASC–1 inalienably possesses three characteristics:
(a) a set of semantic features which we have abbreviated as ASC; (b) a set of morphosyntactic
features which we have abbreviated as N3; and, (c) a stipulation that the theme is required. The
word sense DRESS–1 inherits all of these. Additionally, its ASC has a correlative link to
CLOTHING–1 as specified in (79b).
To take a different example, consider again the verb DROP–1 (see (22) above):
(82) a. DROP–1 ==CPT1 ==> EFC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1a

b. DROP–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b1
c. DROP–1 ––CPT1 ––> [+PST]
The redundant specifications for EFC–1 themes are as follows (see (50) above):
(83) a. EFC–1 ––IPS ––> [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, +FST, –EXT]
b. EFC–1 ––IPS ––> [–VBL, +NML, +OCL]
c. EFC–1 ––IPS ––> REQUIRED–1
Chapter Six 413
These redundancies indicate that the EFC–1 component of a theme list inalienably possesses three
attributes: (a) a set of semantic features that we have abbreviated as EFC; (b) a set of
morphosyntactic features that we have abbreviated as N3; and, (c) a stipulation that it is required.
The theme list for DROP–1 contains two additional specifications: the EFC–1 component is
understood elliptically when it is not overt, and the ASC–1 component is understood reflexively
when it is not overt. These specifications account for the following:
(84) a. John dropped the book onto the floor/out of the window.
b. John dropped the baby onto the bed/out of the window.
c. John dropped onto the bed (in exhaustion).
d. The book dropped onto the floor/out of the window.
e. John dropped onto the bed (in a faint).
The thematic specifications tell us that drop is a motion predicate with nonspecific ORIENTATION,
that is, any [+PST] theme can occur in SCOMP slot. If all three themes in the theme list occur, we
have the prototypical GUF realization, either (84a) or (84b) depending on the SCOMP that appears.
If the ASC–1 component is not overt, but realized as an understood reflexive, then we have (84c).
Since the EFC–1 is linked to UNDERSTOOD–1a, it need not appear. When absent, its slot in the
GUF can be filled by the ASC–1 component giving either (84d) and (84e). Observe that, if this
occurs, the now vacant PCOMP slot cannot be filled by the [+PST] theme. The redundancies for
SCOMP themes given in (53), (54), (55), and (56) stipulate that such themes are C3 unless marked.
Since [+PST] is unmarked in the theme list of drop, it cannot be realized as an N3 to fill the PCOMP
slot. Thus, (84c), (84d), and (84e) are intransitive.
There are verbs of very similar meaning to drop which can never be intransitive. For example, we
have They lowered the piano out the window but not *The piano lowered out the window. But there
is a significant difference between drop and lower; specifically, the former does not entail the active
conscious participation of the EFC–1 component (I must have dropped my wallet somewhere in the
park, but I can’t remember doing so), while the latter does (*They unintentionally lowered the piano
out the window). Observe that we do have examples like They unintentionally lowered the prices,
but only as a result of some mistake or accident, e.g., They unintentionally lowered the prices when
they hit the wrong key on the computer. I will discuss this difference in more detail in Section 6.3.4
in terms of Levin’s causative/inchoative alternation.
6.3.1.2 UNDERSTOOD BODY–PART OBJECT ALTERNATION.
Levin’s understood body–part object alternation also requires use of the specification “O,” though
the matter is more complex than the previous alternation. Consider the following (Levin 1993: 34):
(85) a. The departing passenger waved his hand at the crowd.

b. The departing passenger waved at the crowd.
In addition to these examples, we must also account for the following:

414 Chapter Six
(86) a. The departing passenger waved his/a hand out the window/toward his wife/etc.
b. The departing passenger waved his son’s hand out the window to the boy’s mother.
c. The departing passenger waved a flag/a tearful handkerchief/etc. out the window.
d. The departing passenger waved goodbye with his right hand.
As these examples show, with the verb wave, the ASC theme can be a variety of items besides one’s
own hand when it is overt. Thus, we must distinguish a verb like wave from one like wink which
only allows the specific body part to be overt. Consider the following:
(87) a. She waved.

b. She waved her hand.
c. She is waving something, but I can’t make out what it is.
(88) a. She winked.

b. She winked her eye.
c. *She is winking something, but I can’t make out what it is.
Still, the variety of “waveable” items is constrained; at the very least, they must be able to be held
in the hand:
(89) a. He waved a stick at me.

b. He waved a *(miniature) refrigerator at me.
Lastly, notice that both the ASC object and an instrumental phrase can occur in the same sentence:20
(90) a. She waved a flag at me with her right hand.

b. She waved her left hand with her right hand.
Clearly, we need a system to account for these constraints. Without going into unnecessary detail,
suppose we construct a portion of a semantic network of the type discussed in Chapter Five. We
begin with the word wave. First, we construct the major node in the network which has links to
attributes shared by all senses of the word wave, for example, semantic attributes like
CURVILINEAR–1 and phonological attributes like [wev]:
(91) WAVE–1 ––IPS ––> CURVILINEAR–1

WAVE–1 ––IPS ––> [wev]
Second, we connect WAVE–1 to the major subsenses of wave (the parenthetical meanings are for
explanatory purposes only; they are not an actual part of the network):21
(92) WAVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WAVE–2 (‘motion of the hand’)

WAVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WAVE–3 (‘swell of water’)
WAVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WAVE–4 (‘variation in energy’)
Chapter Six 415
Third, we specify the individual subsenses. Here, we consider only WAVE–2, which includes nouns
(She gave me a friendly wave goodbye) and verbs (She waved me away) involving motion of the
hand:
(93) WAVE–2 ––TYP1 ––> WAVE–2a

WAVE–2 ––TYP1 ––> WAVE–2b
Fourth, we further link the subsenses to their part of speech indicated by the syntactic features
discussed in Chapter Three:
(94) WAVE–2a ––TYP2 ––> NOUN–1 (‘the noun use of WAVE–2’)

WAVE–2b ––TYP2 ––> VERB–1 (‘the verb use of WAVE–2’)
Fifth, we connect the verb WAVE–2b (the verb in Levin’s example) to the components of its theme
list that follow redundant specifications and to the verb class to which it belongs:
(95) WAVE–2b ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1

WAVE–2b ––CPT1 ––> [+PST]
WAVE–2b ––TYP2 ––> BODY_PART_VERB–1
Lastly, we must specify the idiosyncratic properties of the individual themes. In the present
instance, this only involves expressing the fact that the ASC–1 component for the verb WAVE–2b
is an understood body part when not overt and that the body part is expressed in a phrase that is a
bound possessive. Since (81c) specifies that an ASC–1 theme is required in the unmarked condition,
we add the following links to override it.
(96) WAVE–2b ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b2

WAVE–2b ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==>> HAND–1
Given the above, we know that (85b) is interpreted as (85a) since WAVE–2b has an ASC–1 link to
HAND–1 and to UNDERSTOOD–1b2. Further, with an appropriately extended network, we can
account for other body part verbs. Crucially, we say that the meaning of a verb like wave
incorporates HAND–1, just as wink incorporates EYE–1 We may assume that the absence of such
links accounts for the “exceptions” listed by Levin (1993: 34) as not exhibiting the understood body
part alternation:
(97) a. Celia braided her hair.

b. *Celia braided.
Indeed, verbs like braid need not be interpreted as exceptions at all: their meaning simply does not
contain an incorporated body part the way wave, floss, and shave do. Of course, the ultimate
question is, Why doesn’t a verb like braid contain an incorporated body part? Can it? Is this an
accidental gap or is there a principled reason, perhaps the complexity of the activity, that prevents
such incorporation? It is difficult to know. I can imagine a customer saying to her hair stylist the
416 Chapter Six
following:
(98) Things are too hectic at my house in the morning. I simply don’t have the time to spend
twenty minutes braiding.
Similarly, I see no principled reason why the following, analogous to pocket, could not occur:
(99) My Italian grandmother used to bosom a tissue so she’d always be prepared for a sudden
sneeze.
Certainly, an adequate theory of semantics must supply the foundation whereby such innovations
can receive the appropriate interpretation. We have done just that. Crucially, our major point is that
the syntactic behavior of a verb like wave can be predicted from its semantics. Body part verbs
generally incorporate an ASC–1 (ASSOCIATIVE–1)link to a specific body part; hence, it is not
necessary to mention the body part when using the verb. We see this in verbs like wave and also
in verbs like elbow, hand, head, etc., for example, The center elbowed the forward, I handed her an
invitation, The soccer player headed the ball directly into the net.
6.3.1.3 LOCATIVE PREPOSITION DROP ALTERNATION.
Consider now Levin’s locative preposition drop alternation (1993: 43–44). This alternation
accounts for the following:
(100) a. Martha climbed up the mountain.

b. Martha climbed the mountain.
(101) a. They rowed down the rapids.

b. They rowed the rapids.
As a start, let us say that the theme lists for climb and row are as follows:22
(102) a. CLIMB–1 ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1

CLIMB–1 ==CPT1 ==> [+PST] ==IPS ==> P/N3
ASCENT–1 ––EXP ––> CLIMB–1
b. ROW–1 ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1

ROW–1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b1
ROW–1 ==CPT1 ==> [+PST] ==IPS ==> P/N3
OAR–1 ––INS ––> ROW–1
The presence of the specification “ASC–1=IPS=>UNDERSTOOD–1b1” in (102b) indicates that

row allows a PCOMP (He rowed her/himself ashore); its absence in (102a) indicates that climb does
not (*He climbed her/himself up the hill). The specification “[+PST] P/N3” in both (102a) and
Chapter Six 417
(102b) indicates that both climb and row allow preposition incorporation. In the case of row, the
preposition can only be incorporated, according to the GUF, if there is no overt PCOMP (He rowed
the lake/*He rowed her the lake). Further, notice that the theme list for climb contains an
EXPEDIENTIAL (means) theme like ferry (example (149) on Page 125), and the theme list for row
contains an INSTRUMENTAL theme. Thus, climb incorporates ASCENT–1,23 and row
incorporates OAR–1. Given the above theme lists, we account for the following:24
(103) a. Michael climbed (up) onto the platform.

b. Michael rowed the boat ashore.
(104) a. Nathan loves to climb.

b. Nathan rows for exercise.
(105) a. The firemen climbed into their clothes./The diver climbed out of his heavy suit.
b. He rowed stroke for the class crew./They rowed the champion in the regatta.
(106) a. The child climbed (up) out of the well with great difficulty.
b. The vacationer rowed out of the swamp with great difficulty.
(107) a. *The scoutmaster climbed the scouts up the mountain.

b. Michael rowed the boys ashore.
The basic problem is that verbs like climb and row can occur with almost any [+PST] theme as the
examples above show; however, when the preposition is suppressed, the options are limited. It
seems that up is assumed for climb, though there might be other possibilities. Consider the
following where “<” indicates the interpretation.
(108) a. He climbed the tree/ladder/stairs. < up/*down/*over the tree/ladder/stairs

b. He climbed the hill/the Rockies. < up/*down/?over the hill/the Rockies
For row, the choices appear to be greater:
(109) a. He rowed the river with the current. < down the river
b. He rowed the river against the current. < up the river
c. He rowed the English Channel. < across the English Channel
Clearly, the incorporated preposition depends on the noun that is the preposition’s object as well as
the nature of the EXP and INS themes. Since climb has a link to ASCENT–1, and (we may assume)
ASCENT–1 has a link to UP–1, which, in turn, has a link to SUPERIOR–1 (see Section 1.12 on
Page 56), the understood preposition for climb is severely restricted as is the object:
(110) a. *He climbed a room. (ROOM–1 has a TYP1 link to CONTAINER–1)

b. *He climbed a rug. (RUG–1 has an IPS link to FLAT–1)
418 Chapter Six
Sentences like the following will require special circumstances, e.g., the rug is hanging on a
clothesline:
(111) The bug is climbing (up) the rug.
Notice that, even when up does not occur as in (105), upward movement is assumed:
(112) a. The firemen climbed (up) into their clothes.

b. The diver climbed (up) out of his heavy suit.
Further, observe that prepositional incorporation is not possible with the zero nominal due to the
Noun Phrase Condition (NPC) discussed in Chapter Three:
(113) a. That climb up the mountain was strenuous.

b. *That climb the mountain was strenuous.
The verb row also has a LOC2 link to BODY_OF_WATER–1 indicating that the activity generally
occurs in water. Further, the word sense OAR–1 must be linked to SMALL_VESSEL–1 to indicate
that an oar is an alienable possession of small vessels like a boat, rowboat, lifeboat, etc. Notice,
incidentally, that the row ashore is possible (see the remarks on Page 180 regarding adjectives like
astern), whereas *the row shore is not:
(114) a. The row ashore took longer than we anticipated.

b. The row to shore took longer than we anticipated.
c. *The row shore took longer than we anticipated.
All the above links will help to define the domain in which climbing and rowing occur. Given these
details, the best way to deal with Levin’s specific examples is to reassign the uses of climb and row
in (100) and (101) to subsenses of the general verbs climb and row exemplified in (103) through
(107). The network for climb and related words might be as follows:
(115) CLIMB–1 ––IPS ––> [klaym] (‘phonetic form of CLIMB–1’)

CLIMB–1 ––IPS ––> climb (‘orthographic form of CLIMB–1’)
ROPE–1 ––INS ––> CLIMB–1
HILL–1 ––ALL ––> CLIMB–1
LADDER–1 ––ALL ––> CLIMB–1
HILL–1 ––IPS ––> VERTICALITY–1
LADDER–1 ––APS ––> VERTICALITY–1
VERTICALITY–1 ––IPS ––> UP–1, DOWN–1

ASCENT–1 ––IPS ––> UP–1
DESCENT–1 ––IPS ––> DOWN–1
ASCENT–1 ––EXP ––> CLIMB–1

Chapter Six 419
CLIMB–1 ––TYP1 ––> CLIMB–1a
CLIMB–1 ––TYP1 ––> CLIMB–1b
CLIMB–1a ––TYP2 ––> NOUN–1 (‘noun use of CLIMB–1’)

CLIMB–1b ––TYP2 ––> VERB–1 (‘verb use of CLIMB–1’)
CLIMB–1b ––TYP1 ––> CLIMB–1b1 (‘move upward’)

CLIMB–1b ––TYP1 ––> CLIMB–1b2 (‘move vertically’)
CLIMB–1b ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1
CLIMB–1b1 ==CPT1 ==> [+PST] ==IPS ==> N3

CLIMB–1b2 ==CPT1 ==> [+PST] ==IPS ==> P3
Before turning to the network for row, let use first consider the category BODY_OF_WATER and
some possible meanings for a few prepositions:25
(116) BODY_OF_WATER–1 ––TYP1 ––> BODY_OF_WATER–1a

BODY_OF_WATER–1 ––TYP1 ––> BODY_OF_WATER–1b
BODY_OF_WATER–1 ––TYP1 ––> etc.
BODY_OF_WATER–1a ––TYP1 ––> RIVER–1, STREAM–1, etc.

BODY_OF_WATER–1b ––TYP1 ––> LAKE–1, POND–1, etc.
BODY_OF_WATER–1a ––IPS ––> ["DSJ, –"CNJ, +EXT]

(‘they move over an expanse’)
BODY_OF_WATER–1a ––IPS ––> NARROW–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1a ––IPS ––> LONG–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1a ––IPS ––> CURRENT–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b ––IPS ––> ["DSJ, "CNJ, +EXT]

(‘no self–movement’)
BODY_OF_WATER–1b ––IPS ––> FLAT–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b ––IPS ––> CURVILINEAR–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b ––NIPS ––> CURRENT–1
(117) UP–1 ––TYP1 ––> UP–1a, UP–1b, etc,

DOWN–1 ––TYP1 ––> DOWN–1a, DOWN–1b, etc,
UP–1a ––IPS ––> SUPERIOR–1

UP–1b ––IPS ––> UPSTREAM–1
DOWN–1a ––IPS ––> INFERIOR–1
DOWN–1b ––IPS ––> DOWNSTREAM–1
AROUND–1 ––IPS ––> CURVILINEAR–1
420 Chapter Six
(118) UP–1 ––IPS ––> [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ]
DOWN–1 ––IPS ––> [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ]
AROUND–1 ––IPS ––> [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ]
Given this simplified network for bodies of water and prepositional meanings, we can proceed.
Consider the following possible network for row:
(119) ROW–1 ––IPS ––> [ro] (‘phonetic form of ROW–1’)

ROW–1 ––IPS ––> row (‘orthographic form of ROW–1’)
OAR–1 ––INS ––> ROW–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1 ––LOC2 ––> ROW–1
ROW–1 ––TYP1 ––> ROW–1a

ROW–1 ––TYP1 ––> ROW–1b
ROW–1a ––TYP2 ––> NOUN–1 (‘the noun use of ROW–1’)

ROW–1b ––TYP2 ––> VERB–1 (‘the verb use of ROW–1’)
ROW–1b ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1

ROW–1b ––TYP1 ––> ROW–1b1 (‘row a person or vessel’)
ROW–1b ––TYP1 ––> ROW–1b2 (‘row a body of water’)
ROW–1b1 ==CPT1 ==> ASC–1 ==IPS ==> UNDERSTOOD–1b1

ROW–1b1 ––CPT1 ––> [+PST, "DSJ, $CNJ]
ROW–1b2 ==CPT1 ==> [+PST, "DSJ, $CNJ] ==IPS ==> N3
Since rivers move in a specific direction and have a current, however slow, an example like (109a),
which instantiates ROW–1b2, will receive one of two interpretations: the preposition DOWN–1b
is assumed (incorporated) if the traveling is with the current, whereas UP–1b is assumed
(incorporated), if the traveling is against the current. Similarly, since channels generally designate
bodies of water which separate or bridge two land masses, the preposition ACROSS–1 is assumed
(incorporated) for (109c).
A somewhat more complicated example from Levin’s list of verbs exhibiting the locative
preposition drop alternation is the following:
(120) a. The killer prowled around the neighborhood.

b. The killer prowled the neighborhood.
The network for prowl includes the following, which specifies three modifiers, EXPEDIENTIAL
(MEANS), CIRCUMSTANTIAL, and PURPOSIVE:
Chapter Six 421
(121) PROWL–1 ––CPT1 ––> EFC–1
PROWL–1 ==CPT1 ==> [+PST, +EXT] ==IPS ==> P/N3
ROAMING–1 ––EXP ––> PROWL–1
STEALTH–1 ––CIR ––> PROWL–1
PREY–1 ––PUR ––> PROWL–1
If we assume that ROAMING–1 and AROUND–1 are linked to nonspecific orientation over an
expanse (CURVILINEAR–1, CIRCUITOUS–1; see Section 1.12 on Page 56), we can account for
the incorporation of around after prowl and similar verbs like roam, stalk, wander, etc.
6.3.2 SUBJECT ALTERNATIONS NOT INVOLVING AN ANIMATE AGENT.
Let us turn now to alternations found in Levin 1993 which involve variations in the syntactic
configurations of the themes. Levin discusses three alternations which allow causers other than an
agent to appear in subject position: the instrument subject alternation, the natural force subject
alternation, and the abstract cause subject alternation. In Chapter Two, Endnote 9, I discussed the
varieties of causers which can appear as subjects in English. We must now consider this matter in
detail before proceeding.
Typically, IGR (ingressive; nonstative) predicates express an activity initiated by some causer
which, in the prototypical clause, is some EFC, generally a willful animate being. Sometimes the
EFC is a force, e.g., The explosion killed many people or a missile of some sort, e.g., The falling
rocks/the ricocheting bullets killed many people. The passive of an EFC theme is marked with the
preposition by, whether an animate being or a force or a missile: Many people were killed by that
maniac/by the explosion/by the falling rocks/by ricocheting bullets.
Sometimes, the causer is not represented by the EFC relation, but by another relation that usually
functions as a modifier, in particular, by the EXPEDIENTIAL (means) or CAUSAL relation:
(122) a. Sue went to the island by ferry. EXPEDIENTIAL as MODIFIER

b. Sue solved the problem by computer. EXPEDIENTIAL as MODIFIER
c. Sue got our attention by screaming. EXPEDIENTIAL as MODIFIER
d. Sue acted out of/from fear. CAUSAL as MODIFIER
e. Sue died from/of emphysema. CAUSAL as MODIFIER
f. Sue died from the smoke. CAUSAL as MODIFIER
(123) a. A ferry took Sue to the island. EXPEDIENTIAL as SUBJECT

b. Computers solve problems. EXPEDIENTIAL as SUBJECT
c. Sue’s screaming got our attention. EXPEDIENTIAL as SUBJECT
d. Fear caused Sue to act that way. CAUSAL as SUBJECT
e. Emphysema killed Sue. CAUSAL as SUBJECT
f. The smoke killed Sue. CAUSAL as SUBJECT
422 Chapter Six
When a predicate has no EFC, a CAUSAL or EXPEDIENTIAL theme can occupy the inalienable
source slot in a spectrum specification. Ignoring uses of the preposition with for the moment, we
have the following causers:
(124) THEMES TYPES PREPOSITIONAL MARKERS
a. EFC willful animate being by *from *out of *of

b. EFC force by *from *out of *of
c. EFC missile by *from *out of *of
d. EXP conveyance by *from *out of *of

e. EXP machine by *from *out of *of
f. EXP deliberate activity by *from *out of *of
g. CAU psychological cause *by from out of *of

h. CAU disease *by from *out of of
i. CAU conditions *by from *out of *of
It is widely believed that INSTRUMENTAL themes can also function as subject, although we have
seen that they are generally used by an EFC and transferred by that EFC to the GOAL during the
execution of an activity, that is, they are often ASC_INS. As Levin points out, two kinds of
instruments must be distinguished, intermediary instruments and enabling/facilitating instruments
(see Levin 1993: 80 and the references there cited):
(125) a. He broke the window with the hammer. (intermediary instrument)

b. The hammer broke the window.
(126) a. He loaded the truck with the crane. (intermediary instrument)

b. The crane loaded the truck.
(127) a. He ate the ice cream with a spoon. (enabling/facilitating instrument).

b. *The spoon ate the ice cream.
(128) a. He loaded the truck with the pitchfork. (enabling/facilitating instrument).

b. *The pitchfork loaded the truck.
Levin does not define these two classes of instruments. However, she notes (1993: 80) that only
intermediary instruments can function as subjects, and such usage “depends both on the verb and
the choice of instrument.” I believe that this analysis is incorrect, as are all analyses that claim any
instrument, qua instrument, can be a subject in English. By this, I mean that an arbitrary implement
or machine is not functioning as an instrument when that implement or machine is a subject; rather,
it is functioning as some other theme. Further, I suggest that the reason that (127b) and (128b) are
ungrammatical is not because they are enabling or facilitating instruments, but because they are just
instruments, and because instruments, qua instruments, can never be subjects.
Chapter Six 423
In examples like (125b) and (126b), it seems to me that the hammer and the crane are viewed as
“independent” entities, that is, the hammer is not being held in someone’s hand the way instruments
ordinarily are, and the crane is not being operated by any obvious agent: (125b) does not mean ‘The
hammer was used to break the window,’ and (126b) does not mean ‘The crane was used to load the
truck.’ Consider also the following:
(129) a. The hammer broke the windows when it fell from the scaffold.
b. The windows were broken by the hammer when it fell from the scaffold.
c. *The hammer broke the windows while John was using it.
(130) a. The crane loaded the trucks automatically.

b. The trucks were loaded by the crane automatically.
c. *The crane loaded the trucks while John was operating it.
Further, it seems to me that one cannot say either *The spoon ate the ice cream or *The pitchfork
loaded the truck because spoons and pitchforks cannot function as independent entities in the
circumstances depicted in the sentences, i.e., eating ice cream and loading a truck, respectively. On
the other hand, given the correct set of circumstances, spoons and pitchforks might be viewed as
functioning as independent entities, though not as instruments that are used, held, operated or
somehow manipulated by some agent. Consider the following:
(131) a. The diamond studded spoon scratched the table when it fell on it.
b. The pitchfork broke the taillight on the wagon when it fell on it.
In addition, notice that the passives of (125b) and (126b) are (132b) and (133b), respectively, not
(132a) and (133a); further, the paired sentences in (132) and (133) are clearly not synonymous.
(132) a. The window was broken with the hammer.

b. The window was broken by the hammer.
(133) a. The truck was loaded with the crane.

b. The truck was loaded by the crane (automatically).
Since (132b) and (133b) are legitimate passives of (125b) and (126b), and (125b) and (126b) do not
seem to be ambiguous, then hammer and crane cannot be instruments in (125b) and (126b). There
are many similar examples:26
(134) a. The ball dented the car.

b. The car was dented by the ball (*by someone).
c. The car was dented with the ball (by someone).
424 Chapter Six
(135) a. A dull knife made this incision.
b. This incision was made by a dull knife (*by someone).
c. This incision was made with a dull knife (by someone).
(136) a. The alarm awakened me.

b. I was awakened by the alarm (*by someone).
c. I was awakened with the alarm (by someone).
Further, when a particular active sentence with an inanimate subject is ungrammatical or dubious,
so is its passive:
(137) a. *?A gun assassinated the president.

b. *?The president was assassinated by a gun.
(138) a. *?A knife is going to stab him in the back.

b. *?He is going to be stabbed in the back by a knife.
Sometimes, dubious propositions are perfectly felicitous if the circumstances are appropriate, and
when the active is good, so is the passive:
(139) a. Guns don’t assassinate presidents, people do.

b. Presidents aren’t assassinated by guns; they are assassinated by people.
(140) a. The knife that fell from the windowsill on the 23rd floor stabbed him in the back.
b. He was stabbed in the back by the knife that fell from the windowsill on 23rd floor.
What then is the thematic role of hammer and crane in (125b) and (126b)? Before we can answer
this, we must consider two other alternations discussed by Levin.
The first is the natural force subject alternation (Levin 1993: 79–80) which relates the following:
(141) a. I dried the clothes in the sun.

b. The sun dried the clothes.
I don’t believe that this is a legitimate alternation, that is, I believe the two sentences have different
thematic representations. Specifically, the sun is not a force in (141a), but it is in (141b). Note that
the passive of (141b) is The clothes were dried by the sun making it parallel to the following:
(142) a. The tornado destroyed the town.

b. The town was destroyed by the tornado.
On the other hand, an example like (141a) appears to parallel the following:
(143) The town was destroyed in the tornado.

Chapter Six 425
I suggest that the prepositional phrases in examples like (141a) and (143) be analyzed as what they
look like, namely, positional phrases. (141a) differs from a true positional phrase in having a
metaphorical meeting. In Chapter Five, Section 5.6, Page 331 ff., we discussed prototypes and
strength of association with the following examples:
(144) a. [PST4]: live in Ann Arbor Indicates Position

b. [PST3]: live in a pigsty Indicates Position
c. [PST2]: live in luxury Indicates Position/Manner
d. [PST1]: live on a budget Indicates Manner
e. [PST0]: live on a shoestring Indicates Manner
The higher numbers in this PST scale indicate true position; the lower numbers indicate manner.
As the scale predicts, different strengths of association involve different themes even though they
all look like locatives. A major clue is in the question words that are appropriate:
(145) QUESTION APPROPRIATE ANSWERS
a. Where did you dry the clothes? In the sun./On the line./Outside.
b. How did you dry the clothes? In the sun./On the line./Outside.
Thus, in the sun seems to be [PST2] in (141a) indicating position/manner. On the other hand, a
phrase like in the tornado in (143) seems most likely to be interpreted as an expression of time
([PST4, +TMP]) like during the tornado and not as an expression of place or manner, so that in the
tornado might be an appropriate answer to When was the town destroyed, but not to Where/How was
the town destroyed?27
The second of Levin’s alternations relevant to the present discussion is her abstract cause subject
alternation (1993: 81), which relates the following:
(146) a. He established his innocence with the letter.

b. The letter established his innocence.
Again, this pair does not seem to me to involve a legitimate alternation. As Levin herself points out
(1993: 81), we also have the following sentence:
(147) His innocence was established by the letter.
As before, I believe that (147) is the passive of (146b), and in (146b), the letter is not an instrument
in the traditional way that the term has been used.
Given these remarks, consider the various causative and instrumental themes charted in Figure Nine,
which contains four different thematic relations (TRs) each with three different subclasses. An
asterisk next to a sentence or phrase in any given row means that the italicized phrase cannot receive
an interpretation as the TR for that row, although it may be interpretable in some other way.
426 Chapter Six
FIGURE NINE: CAUSATIVE AND INSTRUMENTAL THEMES
TR TYPE AS MODIFIER AS SUBJECT
EXAMPLE PREPOSITIONS ACTIVE PASSIVE
by from out of of with by

EFC willful Let’s kill him (*by * * * * * Ed killed Al. Al was killed by
animate being Al.) Ed.
EFC natural force Let’s kill Ed (*by * * * * * An explosion/a Ed was killed by

or object of an explosion/a gun/that knife an explosion/a
force gun/that knife). killed Ed. gun/that knife.
EFC missile Let’s kill Ed (*by * * * * * A bullet/rock Ed was killed by

a bullet/rock). killed Ed. a bullet/rock.
EXP conveyance She came by car. * * * * A car brought She was

her. brought by car.
EXP machine Ann solved the * * * * The computer The problem

problem by solved the was solved by
computer. problem. the computer.
EXP activity He alerted us by * * * * His yelling We were alerted

yelling. alerted us. by his yelling.
CAU psychological He started shaking * * * Fear rules his His life is ruled
cause out of/from fear life. by/*from/*out
of fear.
CAU disease He died from/of * * * The cancer He was killed

the cancer. killed him. by/*from the
cancer.
CAU conditions Ed died from the * * * * The heat/ Ed was killed

heat/smoke. smoke killed by/*from the
Ed. heat/smoke.
INS immediate He killed her with * * * * *The gun/ She was killed
a gun/knife rock. knife/rock with/*by a gun/
killed her. knife/rock/.
INS facilitating He eats peas with * * * * *A fork eats Peas are eaten
a fork. peas. with/*by a fork.
INS abstract He set his fate * * * * *The letter set His fate was set
with the letter. his fate. with/*by the
letter.
Chapter Six 427
The categories and subcategories illustrated in Figure Nine are the ones most commonly discussed
in the literature. Finer details of classification clearly exist. For example, Pinker (1989: 143)
discusses examples like the following attributed to Melissa Bowerman:
(148) a. The paragraph was headed by a catchy title.

b. The canyon was spanned by a bridge.
c. The bed was covered by a blanket.
These by–phrases appear to express an EFC theme. Compare the following, where by is not
intended to express location:
(149) a. He knifed her.

b. *He killed her by/from a knife.
c. He killed her with a knife.
d. That knife killed her.
e. She was killed by that knife (*by a lunatic).
(150) a. He didn’t title the paragraph.

b. *He headed the paragraph by/from a catchy title.
c. He headed the paragraph with a catchy title.
d. A catchy title headed the paragraph.
e. The paragraph was headed by a catchy title (*by the editor).
(151) a. Nothing bridged the canyon.

b. *The engineers spanned the canyon by/from a bridge.
c. The engineers spanned the canyon with a bridge.
d. A bridge spanned the canyon.
e. The canyon was spanned by a bridge (*by the engineers).
(152) a. He blanketed the bed.

b. *He covered the bed by/from a blanket.
c. He covered the bed with a blanket.
d. A blanket covered the bed.
e. The bed was covered by the blanket (*by the nurse).
The ungrammaticality of the “b”–examples in (149) – (152) indicates that these by–phrases are
neither EXP nor CAU. Although the classification as an EFC seems justifiable given the above, the
nouns title, bridge, and blanket do not fit into any of the EFC subcategories in Figure Nine. Further,
it is difficult to think of a categorial label that would embrace all three nouns other than something
very general like “thing,” which is not very helpful. Therefore, the appropriate way to account for
the Pinker/Bowerman examples is not to add a new subcategory to EFC, but to list the possibilities
in the lexical specifications of the verbs themselves. Notice that there is a fairly limited number of
ways to head a paragraph, span a canyon, and cover a bed, which suggests we are dealing with
428 Chapter Six
matters of verb subclassification in terms of the noun that is the verb’s object, rather than broad
subcategories of EFC.
We can handle such matters as before by including a link from a verb like cover to classes of things
that can cover other things. For example, a bed can be covered, say, by BEDDING–1, which would
include blankets, spreads, quilts, afghans, and so on. Any adequate model of knowledge
representation would have to contain a category like BEDDING–1 anyway. Ultimately, such an
approach needs to be generalized with an algorithm for matching the meaning of a verb with the
characteristics of things that permit those things to function as any of the verb’s arguments.28 For
example, the verb cover is [ +PROXIMAL, +FIRST ORDER, +EXTENSIONAL], which means it
involves contact on a surface over an expanse. Items in BEDDING–1 can be so positioned because
they are flat, wide, flexible, etc. But the class BEDDING–1 is still necessary because it contains
items which ordinarily are covers for beds; without such a class, we would have no way of
explaining the oddity of The housekeeper covered the bed with a sail.
We can also account for the subclasses of the various causative themes given in Figure Nine within
a network. For example, we might propose a categorization along the following lines:
(153) a. EFC–1 ––TYP1 ––> HUMAN–1, ANIMAL–1,FORCE–1, MISSILE–1

b. FORCE–1 ––TYP1 ––> NATURAL_FORCE–1, OBJECT_OF_FORCE–1
c. MISSILE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WEAPON–1, TOOL–1, etc.
A similar breakdown can be constructed for EXP, CAU, and INS. Some word classes will show up
in more that one expansion; for example, TOOL–1 will be part of the expansion of EFC as above
and also part of the expansion of INS. Further, these classes are not invented purely for the
breakdown of EFC or INS, but will be needed anyway for a general classification of words.
As the data in Figure Nine reveals, I claim that implements occupying subject position are not
instruments in the traditional sense, but types of EFC. Further, I am not claiming that an
“instrument” is being used as an EFC or even profiled as an EFC; I am claiming it is an EFC. Thus,
pairs like The rock/gun/bullet/hammer killed John and John was killed by a rock/gun/bullet/hammer
are not related by any syntactic alternation other than the passive. The conjunction diagnostic, used
since the earliest days of case grammar, is still effective. The following is ungrammatical because
it conjoins an animate being, which can instigate an act, with a missile, which cannot; it is not
ungrammatical because it conjoins and an agent with an instrument:
(154) *John and the rock killed Mary.
The prepositions by and with in the paired examples above mark two different thematic relations and
each is as meaningful as the other. Note that animate beings, forces, objects of force, and missiles
can occur with a instrument:
(155) a. John killed Ed with a gun/knife/rock.

b. The tornado destroyed the town with its awesome winds.
Chapter Six 429
c. The knife stabbed John with its razor sharp blade when it fell off the table.
d. The falling rocks flattened the car with their tremendous weight.
To summarize, in the prototypical clause, the subject is marked by an EFC theme [–PST, +DSJ,
–CNJ, +PRX, +FST, –EXT], a willful animate being, a force, an object of force or a missile.
Subjects can also by marked by two other causative themes, namely, the EXPEDIENTIAL or
CAUSAL theme, which share the features [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, +EXT]. The distinctive
features for all causative themes are [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX]. Instruments, qua instruments,
which are [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX, –FST, +EXT], never occur as subject in English.29
6.3.3 MIDDLE ALTERNATION.
The middle alternation (Levin 1993: 19 ff.; Keyser and Roeper 1984; Ackema and Schoorlemmer
1995) is possible with a verb like cut, but not with a verb like pound:
(156) Middle Alternation.
a. The butcher cut the meat (with this knife).

b. The meat cuts easily (with this knife).
c. Bill pounded the metal (with this mallet).
d. *This metal won’t pound (even with this mallet).
We represent the relevant portions of the lexical entries for cut, which allows the middle alternation,
and pound, which generally does not, as follows:30
(157) a. The butcher cut the meat with a knife.
EFC ATT AFC EFR INS AFR

butcher SEPARATION–1 meat U knife meat
b. Bill pounded the metal with a mallet.
EFC ATT AFC EFR INS AFR

Bill FORM–1 metal U mallet metal
As Levin (1993: 26) notes: “The middle alternation is described as being restricted to verbs with
affected objects.” Since the inalienable SCT in both of the above representations is an abstract word
sense and since the INS theme is unmarked, the AFR_AFC must occupy PCOMP position to fulfill
the GUF. Thus, meat and metal are both affected objects (AFC PCOMP in our terms), but only cut
involves a FORM–2 change, which is what Levin’s phrase “affected object” seems to mean.
In connection with the above, Levin also mentions examples like the following:
430 Chapter Six
(158) a. Bill pounded the metal flat.
b. This metal won’t pound flat.
These examples contain two predicates (pound and flat). The structures are as follows:31
(159) a. [V3 [N3 Bill] PST [V1 [V0 pound] [N3 the metal] [C3 flat]]]
b. [V3 [N3 the metal] [C3 won’t] [V1 [V0 pound] [C3 flat]]]
The syntactic model discussed in Chapter Three contains no small clauses and no PRO; rather,
subjects and objects are determined entirely by C–command and precedence relations as follows:32
(160) a. The subject of a predicate is the N3 which most immediately C–commands and
precedes the predicate.
b. The object of a predicate is the N3 which most immediately C–commands and
follows the predicate.
Given these definitions, in (159a), Bill is the subject of pound, and the metal is both the object of
pound and the subject of flat. The thematic relations associated with flat, a CGR predicate, are as
follows:
(161) The metal is flat. (cf. (4) above)
(flat (U CIR IPS))

(flat (U flat metal))
Since FLAT–1 is a property resulting from the internal composition of an object, like frozen, melted,
liquefied, etc., it is a FORM–2 possession.33 Hence, we also account for the possibility of the middle
alternation in (158b). The spectrum specification for the sentences Bill pounded the metal flat with
a mallet and Bill flattened the metal with a mallet are as follows, in which the metal is the recipient
of the flatness (a FORM–2 change), i.e., some unflattened metal becomes flattened metal (cf. Bill
pounded some sense into her and the discussion of He knitted the yarn into a scarf, Page 113 ff.):
(162) Bill pounded the metal flat with a mallet.
(pound (EFC ATT AFC) (CPS CIR RES) (EFR INS AFR))
(pound (Bill FORM–1 metal) (metal flat metal) (U mallet metal))
(163) Bill flattened the metal with a mallet.
(flatten (EFC ATT AFC) (CPS CIR RES) (EFR INS AFR))
(flatten (Bill FORM–1 metal) (metal FLAT–1 metal) (U mallet metal))
Summarizing, the middle alternation is possible when an IGR predicate has a FORM–2 SCT. The
construction is very limited: there must be some kind of modifier included in the sentence such as
a CIRCUMSTANTIAL expression (manner adverb) or a resultative theme; further, an ordinarily
Chapter Six 431
obligatory and specific EFC is not instantiated (cf. This meat cuts easily). Thus, this constructional
variation is not linked to the specifications in (23) and is not encoded by them. Rather, it stems
directly from a meaning component of the predicate. The simplest way to account for it is to list the
following among the redundancies mentioned in Section 6.1.4 above.
(164) When an IGR predicate has a FORM–2 SCT and a simple EFC, and when there is a
modifier theme (CIR) or resultative theme (RES) present, then the EFC need not be
instantiated and the AFR can occupy SUBJECT slot.
By “simple EFC,” I mean an EFC that is also not another theme, e.g., in accept the SUBJECT is
EFC_AFR, both agent and recipient. Note that we have He accepted his fate but not *His fate
accepted. Thus, the middle is really an exceptional construction particularly because predicates may
occur with an uninstantiated EFC even when the EFC is otherwise obligatory in the active (see the
next section). In this regard, the middle is like the passive.
Levin (1993: 26) lists some examples of predicates that do not allow the middle alternation:
(165) a. Kelly adores French fabrics.

b. *French fabrics adore easily.
(166) a. Joan knew the answer.

b. *The answer knows easily.
The verb adore like learn , receive and accept does not have a simple EFC SUBJECT; the subject
is EFC_AFR (see Chapter Two, Example 44 on Page 95), that is, both agent and recipient; therefore,
it does not qualify for the middle alternative. The verb know does not have an EFC SUBJECT at
all, only an AFR SUBJECT; therefore, it too does not qualify for the middle. Note the following:
(167) a. French fabrics are adorable to Kelly.

b. The answer is known to Joan.
The restrictions on the middle are therefore logical. In the middle, the affected object (AFR)
occupies subject slot. Verbs like adore, learn, receive and accept already have an AFR in
SUBJECT slot, so there is no AFR to “move” there. The PCOMP of all these verbs is the SCT, and
the SCT is not what occupies SUBJECT position in the middle construction because it is an abstract
word sense. As we have suggested, the syntactic behavior of these verbs is predictable from their
semantics.
432 Chapter Six
6.3.4 CAUSATIVE/INCHOATIVE ALTERNATION.
Levin’s causative/inchoative alternation (Levin 1993: 26 ff.) involves contrasts like the following:
(168) a. Janet broke the china.

b. The china broke.
(169) a. The physicist liquefied the metal.

b. The metal liquefied.
(170) a. John dropped the ball.

b. The ball dropped.
(171) a. Margaret cut the bread.

b. *The bread cut.
(172) a. John killed the bug.

b. *The bug killed.
(173) a. John threw the ball.

b. *The ball threw.
We have described the relationship between causative, inchoative and stative verbs at several points
in the preceding chapters. For illustrative purposes, let us reconsider the predicates kill, die, and
dead (see Page 121):
(174) John killed the snake.

(kill (EFC DEATH–1 AFC))
(175) The snake died from overexposure.

(die (CAU DEATH–1 AFC))
(176) The snake is dead.

(dead (U DEATH–1 IPS))
Paralleling (174), (175), and (176), we have examples like the following:
(177) The physicist liquefied the metal.

(liquefy (EFC LIQUIDITY–1 AFC))
(178) The metal liquefied.

(liquefy (U LIQUIDITY–1 AFC))
Chapter Six 433
(179) The metal is liquid.
(liquid (U LIQUIDITY–1 IPS))
Levin (1993: 30) notes that “[t]he verbs undergoing the causative/inchoative alternation can roughly
be characterized as verbs of change of state or change of position.” Expanding the notion of profile
discussed above, we can say that the theme lists for these verbs are as follows:
(180) PREDICATE SUBJECT SCT PCOMP
a. break EFC U BREAKAGE–1 AFC

b. liquefy EFC U LIQUIDITY–1 AFC
c. drop EFC U FORM–1 AFC
(181) PREDICATE SUBJECT SCT PCOMP MOD
a. cut EFC SEPARATION–1 AFC INS: BLADE–1

b. kill EFC DEATH–1 AFC
c. throw EFC FORM–1 AFC INS: ARM–1
The verbs in (180) and (181) have an EFC which is at least understood conceptually. They differ
in that the verbs in (180) profile the EFC optionally in the active; hence they allow the
causative/inchoative alternation (note the “U” in the above specifications). In contrast, the verbs
in (181) profile the EFC obligatorily in the active.34
In addition to the variation in the obligatoriness of the EFC, the major difference between the two
classes of verbs is the latitude in what may be the causative theme. A verb like break can profile
a situation that results from a multitude of causes including an animate being (John), a natural force
(an explosion), a missile (a rock), and so on; furthermore, a specific instrument is not required. On
the other hand, a verb like cut generally requires the deliberate use of a specific type of instrument
by a willful agent.35 As Levin (1993: 242) notes: “...the break verbs, unlike the cut verbs, are pure
verbs of change of state, and their meaning, unlike the cut verbs, provides no information about how
the change of state came about.”
Similarly, drop describes a change of position that can result from a multitude of causes, whereas
throw requires a willful agent performing a very specific movement with a very specific body part.
Liquefy is similar in range to break and drop, and most verbs of killing (execute, assassinate, etc.)
are similar to cut and throw in their specificity. The verb kill itself is curiously nonspecific:
(182) a. An accident/the explosion/that truck/a falling rock killed John.

b. Excessive smoking/a lousy diet/too much womanizing/orneriness killed John.
c. John killed Bill/the bug/the plant/the idea/our budget/your chances/his car.
With the exception of kill (compare assassinate, butcher, execute, etc.), we can say, following Levin,
that the principal difference between cut–type verbs and break–type verbs is that the former, but not
434 Chapter Six
the latter, require the use of a specific type of instrument. As Levin herself indicates, the syntax is
predictable from the semantics.
Testing the different constraints on the instrument with these verbs is relatively straightforward.
(183) a. He broke the window with a hammer/a rock/his foot/her shoe/etc.

b. *He cut the bread with a hammer/a rock/his foot/her shoe/etc.
Testing the involvement of the EFC for cut–type verbs (180) as opposed to break–type verbs (181)
is difficult because most of the contrasts between them are due to the fact that the former are always
transitive and the latter are either transitive or intransitive, e.g., the contrast between the china’s
breaking and *the bread’s cutting. One difference between them is that unintentional causation
often yields better results with break–type verbs than with most cut–type verbs except for verbs of
killing):
(184) a. John unintentionally broke the china into pieces.

b. John unintentionally liquefied the metal.
c. John unintentionally dropped the ball several times during the game.
(185) a. ?John unintentionally cut the bread into pieces.

b. John unintentionally killed the grass.
c. ?John unintentionally threw the ball several times during the game.
Consider also the following contrasts:36
(186) a. The explosion is what caused the china to get broken.

b. The explosion is what caused the metal to be liquefied.
c. The explosion is what caused the ball to be dropped by John.
(187) a. *The explosion is what caused the bread to get cut.

b. ?The explosion is what caused the grass to be killed.
c. *The explosion is what caused the ball to be thrown by John.
The above contrasts would be difficult to explain without an appeal in cut–type verbs to the more
direct involvement of the EFC with some specific type of instrument.
As a final comment, notice that the lexical information in (180) incorporates the unaccusative
hypothesis (Levin and Rappaport Hovav 1994, Pesetsky 1995, Grimshaw 1990) without postulating
the movement of a deep structure object into surface structure subject position. According to the
unaccusative hypothesis, intransitive uses of break–type verbs have the structure in (188a) in
contrast to transitive verbs, which have the structure (188b), and pure intransitive or unergative
verbs, which have the structure (188c).
Chapter Six 435
(188) a. [S [e] [VP break NP]] intransitive/unaccusative
b. [S NP [VP cut NP]] transitive
c. [S NP [VP laugh]] intransitive/unergative
In an analysis like (188a), some surface subjects, for example, the jar in The jar broke, are analyzed
as underlying objects. Notice that the representation in (188a) contains the traditional VP
representation for transitive verbs (188b), i.e., the object is a VP internal element; yet, the structure
becomes superficially intransitive because the direct object moves into subject position, that is, it
is “externalized.” If the unaccusative analysis is part of universal grammar, one might reasonably
expect to find some evidence for it in the speech of children. Yet, it seems to me that the evidence
points away from a purely syntactic account of the differences between transitivity and various kinds
of intransitivity.
Young children often make mistakes involving transitivity saying things like I goed the truck or I’m
gonna sing the doll (Berman 1986: 440). They are extraordinarily inventive as the following
examples from the work of Bowerman (1974, 1982a, 1982b, 1982c) show:37
(189) a. Mommy, can you stay this open?

b. Who deaded my kitty cat?
c. Don’t giggle me.
d. Feel your hand to that. (Feel that with your hand.)
e. I hitted this into my neck. (I hit my neck with this.)
Generally, the canonical word order for English (SVO; Subject/Agent–Verb–Object/Patient) is the
one most often observed in the early speech of children acquiring English. As Brown, R. (1973:156)
notes, “violations of normal order are triflingly few.” The few violations that Brown does cite, e.g.,
Nose blow, place an object before a transitive verb. Bowerman’s (1973) study of Kendall at ages
22–23 months provides similar examples of objects in preverbal position like (190) as well as
examples of subjects in postverbal position like (191) (all examples from Bowerman 1973:
Appendix C, 240–241).
(190) a. Doggie sew. (‘Sew doggie.’)

b. Kimmy kick. (‘Kick Kimmy.’)
c. Kendall pick up. (‘Pick up Kendall.’)
d. Doggie lookit. (‘Look at doggie.’)
(191) a. Hug Mommy. (‘Mommy hugs.’)

b. See Kendall. (‘Kendall sees.’)
The above errors are difficult to explain on purely syntactic grounds: notice that analyses like those
in (188) do not place the object of transitive verbs in preverbal position nor the subject of transitive
verbs in postverbal position. Furthermore, we do not seem to find errors like the following:38
436 Chapter Six
(192) a. *Tub sink boat. (‘The boat sank in the tub.’)
b. *Look broke that cup. (‘Look, that cup broke.’)
c. *Wall crash truck. (‘The truck crashed into the wall.’)
In short, the unaccusative structure in (188a) does not seem to surface as a sentence where the
affected object is postverbal but functions as the subject. Given the absence of such errors alongside
of the errors that, in fact, do occur, it appears that violations in the surface placement of various
themes do not occur because children have the wrong underlying syntactic representation for a
predicate. Rather, it seems that children do not yet fully understand the thematic structure of the
verbs they use or how to map that structure onto the syntax. This is exactly what we have proposed.
The GUF (Page 394) is essentially a theory of linking which assigns thematic relations to particular
grammatical functions (SUBJECT, PCOMP, etc.) on the basis of the presence of other relations as
well as considerations like profiling. Thus, concepts like transitivity and intransitivity refer to
relationships that only have relevance at the level of surface syntax. This is quite different from a
syntactic account like the unaccusative hypothesis which argues that intransitive uses of break–type
verbs require the movement of the affected object into preverbal (subject) position because they
have an underlying syntactic structure like (188a).39
Importantly, the GUF derives from semantic considerations, namely, the mapping of themes in a
spectrum specification onto syntactic structure. In this regard, our interpretation of the above data
from the speech of children is similar to the conclusion reached in Radford 1990, who examined
over 100,000 spontaneous utterances of children between one–and–a–half and three years of age
including the above examples from Bowerman and Braine. After rejecting an analysis like (188a)
as “implausible “ (Page 233), he suggests (Page 251) that children develop three “visibility
mechanisms” for mapping thematic structure onto syntactic structure:
(193) a. A saturation mechanism which determines whether or not a given theta–role “is
syntactically or lexically saturated (i.e. projected into the syntax or not).”
b. An externalization mechanism which “determines which argument of a given

predicate will be projected into the syntax as its external argument (i.e. subject).”
c. A linearization mechanism which “determines the order of arguments relative to their

predicate and to each other.”
These visibility mechanisms involve issues that form the four parts of the GUF, which stipulate
which themes become SUBJECT and which themes become PCOMP, the two grammatical functions
relevant to children’s sentences at this stage of acquisition.40 Radford’s conclusion (Page 252) is
that “we might suggest that what characterizes the transition from single–word utterances to
multi–word utterances is precisely the development of such mapping mechanisms in the child’s
grammar.” In our terms, the transition involves mastery of the various parts of the GUF.
Chapter Six 437
6.3.5 DATIVE ALTERNATION.
We now briefly review the dative alternation (Levin 1993: 45 ff.) which we have discussed at
several points previously. The variant with the overt AFR preposition to is given in (194).
(194) He gave it to them. (AFR realized as the overt preposition to)
[V3 he PST [V1 [V0 give] [N3 it] [C3 [C1 [C0 AFR: to] [N3 them]]]]]
The first criterion for the double object variant is that the predicate must have GOAL (AFR)
ORIENTATION and must profile the ASC or NASC as well as the AFR. This variant is given in
(195).
(195) He gave them it.
[V3 he PST [V1 [V1 [V0 give] [N3 them]] [N3 it]]]
The second criterion is that the predicate must be nonpositional (see Endnote 9), a restriction
illuminated by Bresnan with the following examples:
(196) a. He sent the package (ASC) to the boarder (AFR).

b. He sent the boarder the package.
(197) a. He sent the package (ASC) to the border (ALL).

b. *He sent the border the package.
Predicates meeting the above criteria for the double object construction which nevertheless do not
allow it include contribute, donate, deliver, explain, recite, etc. In the current system, we say that
such verbs profile the ASC alone, that is, they have a theme list like (198a), rather than (198b), while
verbs like charge (They charged him an arm and a leg), which are only found in the double object
construction (Levin 1993: 47), have a theme list like (198c).41
(198) a. donate EFC ASC AFR

b. give EFC ASC AFR P/N3
c. charge EFC ASC AFR N3
6.3.6 LOCATIVE INVERSION and There–INSERTION ALTERNATIONS.
Levin (1993: 88–94) discusses two alternations which involve postverbal subjects, the locative
inversion alternation and the there–insertion alternation. Before we can present an analysis of either
of these alternations, two matters of terminology and classification must be considered.
438 Chapter Six
First, Levin (1993: 92) adopts the commonly used phrase “locative inversion,” which is too
restrictive in terms of the semantic theory we have proposed. Consider the following:
(199) a. On the corner, stood a majestic oak tree. LOCATIVE

b. Toward the pond, waddled a flock of geese. ALLATIVE
c. Into the room, walked John. ILLATIVE
d. From the ashes, arose a fiendish monster. ABLATIVE
e. Out of the woods, ran a woman screaming. ELATIVE
Given these examples, I will refer to the alternation as “the positional inversion alternation” or, more
properly, “the [+PST]–inversion alternation” (henceforth, PIA). Notice that postverbal subjects are
not allowed with nonpositional predicates:42
(200) a. *On John, relies Sue too much. (cf. It is on John that Sue relies too much.)
b. *To the jury, appealed the lawyer. (cf. It was to the jury that the lawyer appealed.)
c. *Into a rich family, married Sue. (cf. It was into a rich family that Sue married.)
d. *From cancer, has recovered Sue. (cf. It is from cancer that Sue has recovered.)
e. *Out of guilt, acted Sue. (cf. It was out of guilt that Sue acted.)
Second, as examples of the there–insertion alternation, Levin (1990: 88–91) includes pairs like the
following (the judgements are hers):
(201) a. A flowering plant is on the windowsill.

b. There is a flowering plant on the windowsill.
(202) a. A little boy darted into the room.

b. There darted into the room a little boy.
??There darted a little boy into the room.
??Into the room there darted a little boy.
Examples like (201b) and (202b) have been widely discussed in the literature (Milsark 1974, 1977;
Bresnan 1976; Rochemont 1978; Stowell 1981; Williams 1984; Safir 1985; Coopmans 1989, 1992;
Rochemont and Culicover 1990). Generally, authors have distinguished the two alternations from
each other. Examples like (201b) are considered instances of the existential there–insertion
alternation (henceforth, ETA), while those in (202b) are considered instances of the presentational
there–insertion alternation (henceforth, PTA). There are a number of reasons for distinguishing the
ETA and the PTA. In general, the ETA has far fewer restrictions than either the PTA or the PIA.
Consider the following comparison of ETA (“a” examples), PTA (“b” examples), PIA (“c”
examples), and PTA+PIA (“d” examples):43
Chapter Six 439
(203) Pronouns.
a. *There is he/him in the room. ETA

b. *There walked into the room he. PTA
c. *Into the room walked he. PIA
d. *Into the room there walked he. PTA+PIA
(204) Proper Nouns.
a. *There is John in the room. ETA

b. *There walked into the room John. PTA
c. Into the room walked John. PIA
d. #Into the room there walked John. PTA+PIA
(205) Negatives.
a. There aren’t any strangers in the room. ETA

b. #There didn’t walk into the room any strangers PTA
c. *Into the room didn’t walk any strangers. PIA
d. *Into the room there didn’t walk any strangers. PTA+PIA
(206) Modals of Possibility.
a. There might be a stranger in the room. ETA

b. ?There might walk into the room a stranger. PTA
c. ?Into the room might walk a stranger. PIA
d. ?Into the room there might walk a stranger. PTA+PIA
(207) Future.
a. There will be a stranger in the room. ETA

b. ?There will walk into the room a stranger. PTA
c. Into the room will walk a stranger. PIA
d. ?Into the room there will walk a stranger. PTA+PIA
(208) Progressive.
a. There is a stranger sitting in the room. ETA

*There is sitting in the room a stranger. ETA
b. *There is walking a stranger into the room. PTA
#There is walking into the room a stranger. PTA
c. ?Into the room is walking a stranger. PIA
d. #Into the room there is walking a stranger. PTA+PIA
440 Chapter Six
(209) Perfective.
a. There have been strangers here before. ETA

*There have been here strangers before. ETA
b. *There has walked into the room a stranger before. PTA
*There has walked a stranger into the room before. PTA
c. #Into the room has walked a stranger before. PIA
d. #Into the room there has walked a stranger before. PTA+PIA
In addition to the above data, we must note that it has sometimes been suggested (Safir 1985) that
the ETA and PTA share the Definiteness Effect (henceforth, DE), namely, they require an indefinite
postverbal subject. However, Bresnan (1976) and Rochement and Culicover (1990) argue that this
is incorrect.44 Rochemont and Culicover (1990: 28–29) cite the following contrasts:
(210) a. *There was the man walking into the room.

b. *There was John walking into the room.
c. *There was him walking into the room.
(211) a. ??There walked into the room, the man.

b. ??There walked into the room, John.
c. ??There walked into the room, him.
Further, Rochemont and Culicover observe (1990: 29) that the PTA becomes fully acceptable when
the postverbal subject is a heavy NP:
(212) a. *There was the one man she had no desire to see in the room.
b. There walked into the room, the one man she had no desire to see.
Rochemont and Culicover (1990: 29) conclude that, of the two constructions, “only Existential but
not Presentational there–insertion manifests the DE.”
We can summarize all of the above judgements, shaky though some of them are, as follows:
(213) ETA is an alternation distinct from PTA and PIA.
Coopmans (1989: 746) notes a further distinction between ETA and PTA, specifically, “the ease
with which the former but not the latter can occur as complements in accusative–with–infinitive
constructions”:
(214) a. John expected a man to be in the garden.

b. John expected there to be a man in the garden.
c. *John expected there to walk a man into the garden.
d. ??John expected there to walk into the garden a man.
Chapter Six 441
Given all the above data, we must distinguish the verbs which Levin groups together as allowing
the there–insertion alternation. Examples like (201) involve the ETA; those like (202) involve the
PTA. Summarizing, we are dealing with the following three constructions:
(215) a. ETA: There was a man no one knew in the room.

b. PTA: There walked into the room a man no one knew.
c. PIA: Into the room walked a man no one knew.
Given the above remarks, we are able to turn to the issue of structural representation, potentially the
most serious challenge to the syntactic framework presented here. Three points are crucial to our
analysis.
First, in Chapter Three (Page 163), we argued that phrases referring back to the subject must occur
on V2. We considered examples like the following:
(216) a. Kennedy became president young (V2).

b. John ate the food raw (V1) nude (V2).
Second, in Chapter Three (Page 232), we proposed that topicalized or focused phrases reside on a
recursion of the V3 level above the subject and mode characterizer:
(217) a. John must read this book.

[V3 [N3 John] [C3 must] [V1 [V0 read] [N3 this book]]]
b. This book, John must read.

[V3 [N3 this book]i [V3 [N3 John] [C3 must] [V1 [V0 read] [e]i]]]
Third, given the many prehead/posthead variations we have seen (in particular those mentioned on
Page 158), we can extend our proposal for topicalized or focused phrases to include those that reside
in posthead position like the following:
(218) John must read, as far as I know, only this book.
[V3 [V3 [N3 John] [C3 must] [V2 [V1 [V0 read] [e]i] [C3 as far as I know]]] [N3 only this book]i]
Let us now consider the structure of the ETA. This alternation relates pairs of sentences like the
following:
(219) a. A man was in the room.

b. There was a man in the room.
(220) a. A man was dancing around the room.

b. There was a man dancing around the room.
442 Chapter Six
(221) a. A man was arrested at the party.
b. There was a man arrested at the party.
In Chapter Three, Section 3.1.2 (Page 166 ff.), we argued that all participles are characterizers with
a structure like prepositional phrases, and, when they occur with forms of the verb be, they are X2
level posthead phrases as follows:
(222) a. [V3 [N3 a man] PST [V2 was [C3 in the room]]]
b. [V3 [N3 a man] PST [V2 was [C3 dancing around the room]]]
c. [V3 [N3 a man] PST [V2 was [C3 arrested at the party]]]
Now recall that the V2 level is the level on which predicate nominatives and predicate adjectives
reside (Chapter Three, Section 3.1.1, Page 161 ff.). Since the postverbal N3 found in the ETA refers
back to the subject there, our theory demands that sentences with existential there have the
following structure analogous to the structures directly above:
(223) a. [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 was [N3 a man] [C3 in the room]]]
b. [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 was [N3 a man] [C3 dancing around the room]]]
c. [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 was [N3 a man] [C3 arrested at the party]]]
Notice that the representations in (222) and (223) fully account for the relationship between the two
sets of sentences. Thus, the ETA requires no extra apparatus in the present theory. Specifically, no
Verb Movement or other movement is necessary to account for the fact that the postverbal subject
in (219b), (220b), and (221b), occurs after the verb be and not after the P3 or dancing or arrested.
Actually, the postverbal subject, even when it is a fairly heavy N3, must always appear to the right
of the first occurrence of be in the ETA, and our analysis explains this restriction:
(224) a. There were [N3 several people that no one recognized] [C3 at the party].
b. There could be [N3 several people that no one will recognize] [C3 at the party].
c. There could have been [N3 several people that no one recognized] [C3 at the party].
d. There were [N3 several people no one recognized] [C3 walking around the room].
There is [N3 no one] [C3 sitting with Sue].
e. *There were walking around the room [N3 three men].
*There is sitting with Sue [N3 no one].
f. There were [N3 several people that no one recognized] [C3 asked to leave the party].
There were [N3 four couples] [C3 invited].
g. *There were asked to leave the party [N3 three men].
*There were invited [N3 four couples].
h. There could have been [N3several people] [C3 being asked to leave the party].
*There could have been being [N3several people] [C3 asked to leave the party].
Given the above analysis, two thorny problems are given straightforward explanations. First, we
know why transitive verbs cannot occur in the ETA: they take V1 complements, not V2
complements. Thus, we do not have the following:45
Chapter Six 443
(225) a. *There gave John three picture to Mary.
b. *There killed John several bugs.
Second, we also know why the passive of transitive verbs regularly can occur in the ETA: the
passive is a copulative construction with the passive participle, an adjectival characterizer, residing
in posthead position on the V2 level. Thus, we do have the following:
(226) a. There were three pictures given to Mary by John.

b. There were several bugs killed by John.
To summarize the discussion so far, the ability of select verbs to occur in the ETA can be derived
directly from our separation of the V1 and V2 levels. Significantly, in the derivation of the ETA,
no syntactic movement transformations are necessary: the postverbal subject occurs directly after
the first occurrence of the verb be, that is, in predicate nominative position referring back to the
subject the way all predicate nominatives do.
Consider now the PTA and the PIA. Again, we are dealing with constructions like the following
(cf. (215)).
(227) a. PTA: There walked into the room a man no one knew.
b. PIA: Into the room walked a man no one knew.
Notice first that both the PTA and the PIA are marked by the regular positioning of the postverbal
subject before any V2 level phrases when that subject is not a heavy noun phrase and after any V2
level phrases when it is:
(228) PTA:
a. A child ran into the room at noon.

A child ran into the room quickly.
b. Into the room, there ran a child at noon.
Into the room, there ran a child quickly.
c. *Into the room, there ran at noon a child.
*Into the room, there ran quickly a child.
(229) PIA:
a. A child ran into the room at noon.

A child ran into the room quickly.
b. Into the room ran a child at noon.
Into the room ran a child quickly.
c. *Into the room ran at noon a child.
*Into the room ran quickly a child.
444 Chapter Six
(230) PTA:
a. A man that no one knew ran into the room at noon.

A man that no one knew ran into the room quickly.
b. *Into the room, there ran a man that no one knew at noon.
*Into the room, there ran a man that no one knew quickly.
c. Into the room, there ran at noon a man that no one knew.
Into the room, there ran quickly a man that no one knew.
(231) PIA:
a. A man that no one knew ran into the room at noon.

A man that no one knew ran into the room quickly.
b. *Into the room ran a man that no one knew at noon.
*Into the room ran a man that no one knew quickly.
c. Into the room ran at noon a man that no one knew.
Into the room ran quickly a man that no one knew.
Assuming that the data in (230) and (231) are accounted for independently by a variation in
placement when the postverbal subject is heavy (commonly called Heavy NP Shift in generative
syntax; see Rochemont and Culicover 1990 for discussion), let us concentrate on examples like
(228) and (229). The similarities in (228) and (229), extend to other common aspects of the PTA
and the PIA. For example, neither can occur with focused nonpositional phrases:
(232) PTA:
a. A man [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] into the room] with a strange woman].
b. Into the room, there walked a man with a strange woman.
c. *With a strange woman, there [V1 walked into the room] a man.
d. *Briskly, there [V1 walked into the room] a man.
(233) PIA:
a. A man [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] into the room] with a strange woman].
b. Into the room, walked a man with a strange woman.
c. *With a strange woman, [V1 walked into the room] a man.
d. *Briskly, [V1 walked into the room] a man.
Following Coopmans (1989; 1992) and Rochemont and Culicover (1990), let us assume that the
PTA and the PIA are focus constructions, and, to distinguish them from the ETA, let us assign them
the following structural representations:
Chapter Six 445
(234) Presentational There–Insertion (PTA).
a. There walked into the room suddenly, a man no one recognized.

[V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [C3 into the room]] [C3 suddenly]] [N3 a man no
one recognized]]
b. Into the room there walked suddenly a man no one recognized.

[V3 [C3 into the room]i [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]i ] [C3 suddenly]] [N3 a
man no one recognized]]]
c. There walked suddenly a man no one recognized, into the room.

[V3 [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]i] [C3 suddenly]] [N3 a man no one
recognized]] [C3 into the room]i]
(235) [+PST]–Inversion (PIA).
a. A man no one recognized walked into the room suddenly.

[V3 [N3 a man no one recognized] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [C3 into the room]] [C3
suddenly]]]
b. Into the room, walked suddenly, a man no one recognized.

[V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [e]i PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]j] [C3 suddenly]] [N3 a man no
one recognized]i]]
c. A man no one recognized walked suddenly, into the room.

[V3 [V3 [N3 a man no one recognized] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]j] [C3 suddenly]] [C3
into the room]j]
All of the above structures have essentially the following representation (FP = Focused Phrase):
9&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&9
(236) [V3 FPj [V3 there/[e]i MDE [V2/1 V0 [e]j ] N3i ] FPj]
8______________________________________8________________8
Notice that it is possible to have an FP in both sentence initial and sentence final position:
(237) a. Into the room, there walked a man no one recognized, suddenly.
b. Suddenly, there walked a man no one recognized, into the room.
Notice also that there are two different processes in (236): one is the placement of the subject in
postverbal position, indicated by the arrows above the brackets; the other is the focusing of a phrase
in either sentence initial or sentence final position, indicated by the arrows below the brackets.
446 Chapter Six
In their discussion of focus in English, Rochemont and Culicover (1990: Chapter Three) argue
against an analysis like (236), which allows multiple instances of FP in prehead and/or posthead
position. Specifically, they cite the following sentences (their example (6) on Page 71) and offer
three arguments against the independent topicalization of the PP and the predicate phrase:
(238) a. Into the room nude walked John.

b. In front of her smiling stood Bill.
In their first argument, Rochemont and Culicover (1990: 71–72) claim that there is no intonation
break after the FP in (238) while there generally is such a break in topicalized phrases. I do not
know how to respond to this argument. For me, the examples in (238) are best when there is added
stress and a perceptible, though not necessarily dramatic, pause after the predicate phrases:
(239) a. Into the room NUDE, walked John.

b. In front of her SMILING, stood Bill.
The second and third arguments presented in Rochemont and Culicover (1990: 72) are potentially
more damaging to our analysis. They suggest that English does not allow more than one sentence
initial topicalized phrase (their example (9)):
(240) a. *Bill, John, I’ve never introduced to.

b. *To John, a letter, Mary just sent.
c. *That book, on the table, Bill just put.
d. *With Bill, nude, Mary likes to play.
e. *Nude, into the room, John walked.
Further, they note that the order of PP and predicate phrase is strictly fixed, “an observation that is
unexpected if such cases were derived by multiple topicalization” (1990: 72):
(241) a. *Nude, into the room, walked John.

b. *Smiling, in front of her, stood Bill.
I believe that both of these arguments reduce to the same issue. We have already observed that
English phrases are like an onion with prehead and posthead constituents occupying mirror image
positions (the Spanish braille teacher and the teacher of braille from Spain). However, this property
does not apply when phrases are placed in topicalized positions or in any position that involves
binding to an [e]. If this were the case, we would expect (239) to be bad, and (241) to be good.
As a possible explanation, consider the issue of center–embedded (self–embedded) constructions

(Chomsky 1965: 10–15). It is well known that center embedding leads to unacceptability. Human
beings cannot utilize an analytical procedure while they are already in the process of performing that
analytical procedure:
Chapter Six 447
(242) *[That [that John left so early] annoyed Sue] pleased Mary.
Compare the following, where only the first involves center embedding:46
(243) a. *[In which car]j [which bags]i did the police say they saw [e]i [e]j ?
b. ?[Which bags]i [in which car]j did the police say they saw [e]i [e]j?
Now notice that the examples in (241) involve center embedding:
(244) a. *[V3 [C3 nude]k [V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [e]i PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]j ] [e]k ]] [N3
John]i ]]
b. *[V3 [C3 smiling]k [V3 [C3 in front of her]j [V3 [e]i PST [V2 [V1 [V0 stood] [e]j ] [e]k ]] [N3
Bill]i ]]
On the other hand, the examples in (239) do not involve center embedding:
(245) a. [V3 [C3 into the room]k [V3 [C3 nude]j [V3 [e]i PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]k ] [e]j ]]
[N3 John]i]]
b. [V3 [C3 in front of her]k [V3 [C3 smiling]j [V3 [e]i PST [V2 [V1 [V0 stood] [e]k ] [e]j ]]
[N3 Bill]i]]
Consider now the claim that English does not tolerate multiple instances of topicalization. This
seems to me to be incorrect given the following:
(246) a. [At the scene of the crime]i [just before the murder occurred]j, the police were able
to place the suspect [e]i [e]j.
b. [Out of the woods]i [screaming “Rape”]j, ran [e]i a woman [e]j.
Instead of saying that English does not tolerate multiple instances of topicalization, suppose we say
that the grammar contains the following constraint:
(247) The Center Embedding Condition (CEC).
Multiple instances of topicalization are permissible when they do not lead to center
embedding or involve successive sequences of the same type of phrase, e.g., two
WH–phrases:47
This constraint rules out the following:

448 Chapter Six
(248) a. *?[Just before the murder occurred]j [at the scene of the crime]i, the police were able
to place the suspect [e]i [e]j.
b. *?[Screaming “Rape”]j [out of the woods]i, ran [e]i a woman [e]j.
Unfortunately, as stated the CEC is too strong. Rochemont and Culicover (1990: 80) give the
following examples which involve center embedding:
(249) a. Quickly into the room went Bill.

b. Gracefully down the staircase walked the Queen.
c. Meekly under the table crouched the dog.
The examples in (249) all have the following structure according the analysis proposed here:
(250) [V3 [C3 ADV]j [V3 [C3 PP]i [V3 [N3 SUBJECT] [C3 (MDE] [V2 [V1 [V0 VERB] [e]i] [e]j]]]
But there is a significant different between (250) and (241), namely, in the former, the topicalized
adverb contains an overt morphosyntactic marker (–ly) which identifies its base residence as V2.
Manner adverbs never occur on the V1 level in English, that is, they are never complements of
verbs. On the other hand, topicalized adjectives like nude in (241a) and participles like smiling in
(241b) do not contain an overt morphosyntactic marker that indicates their base residence (recall
John left the house messy). They can be object complements off V1 (I consider him rude; John left
the house unlocked) or predicate adjectives off V2 (He is rude; John left the house drunk). Given
this difference, suppose we revise the CEC as follows:
(251) The Center Embedding Condition (CEC).
Multiple instances of topicalization are not permissible when they lead to center embedding
and involve phrases lacking an overt morphosyntactic marker.
This version of the CEC is like the Empty Category Principle (ECP; Chomsky 1981) in an essential
way, namely, it states that empty categories must be recoverable. Given the CEC, we can proceed.
Following Culicover (1980), Rochemont and Culicover (1990: 80) argue that the manner adverb and
the prepositional phrase form a single constituent in examples like (249) because, they assume
following Sag (1976), that only a single constituent can precede the verb in Gapping:
(252) a. Quickly into the room went Bill, and slowly onto the roof, Mary.
b. *Quickly Bill went into the room, and slowly Mary, onto the roof.
Putting aside the argument based on Gapping for the moment, consider the following sentences
which indicate that quickly into the room cannot be a single constituent in (252a):
Chapter Six 449
(253) a. *Where/How Bill went was quickly into the room.
b. *It was quickly into the room that I saw Bill go.
Moreover, consistency would demand that if quickly into the room is a single constituent, then the
italicized sequences in the following must also be single constituents (cf. Rochemont and Culicover
examples in (249)):
(254) a. Gracefully down the staircase with her arm in a sling and her leg in a cast smiling
through clenched teeth and looking a bit like Bette Midler walked the Queen.
b. Meekly under the table wagging its tail and panting like crazy no doubt anticipating
a severe kick in the behind for having overturned the garbage crouched the dog.
The fact is that multiple instances of topicalization are not only possible, they are very easy to make
up. Suppose we attempt to account for the ungrammaticality of (252b) with the following:
(255) Gapping that involves topicalized phrases is possible only if all the gapped elements form
a single continuous constituent.
The structure for (252b) is the following, in which the empty categories in the right conjunct do not
form a single continuous constituent (in boldface):
(256) *[V3 [C3 quickly]j [V3 [N3 Bill] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 went]i [C3 into the room]] [e]j]]]
and
[V3 [C3 slowly]j [V3 [N3 Mary] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 [e]i ] [C3 onto the roof]] [e]j]]]
However, notice that reversing the complement and the modifier, following the C–command
relations we have proposed, produces good results because the empty categories in the right conjunct
do form a single continuous constituent:
(257) Into the room Bill went quickly, and onto the roof, Mary, slowly.
[V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [N3 Bill] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 went]i [e]j] [C3 quickly]]]]
and
[V3 [C3 onto the roof]j [V3 [N3 Mary] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 [e]i ] [e]j ] [C3 slowly]]]]
When both constituents are topicalized, the representation also contains successive empty categories
in the right conjunct without assuming that quickly into the room itself is a single constituent:
(258) Quickly into the room Bill went, and slowly onto the roof, Mary.
[V3 [C3 quickly]k [V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [N3 Bill] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 went]i [e]j] [C3 [e]k]]]] and
[V3 [C3 slowly]k [V3 [C3 onto the roof]j [V3 [N3 Mary] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 [e]i ] [e]j ] [e]k ]]]
450 Chapter Six
Similarly, notice that the gapped constituents form one continuous sequence in the right conjunct
when PIA also applies:48
(259) Into the room went Bill quickly, and onto the roof, Mary, slowly.
[V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [V3 [e]x PST [V2 [V1 [V0 went]i [e]j] [e]k] [N3 Bill]x] [C3 quickly]k] and
[V3 [C3 onto the roof]j [V3 [V3 [e]y PST [V2 [V1 [V0 [e]i ] [e]j ] [e]k ] [N3 Mary]y] [C3 slowly]k]
Assuming the analyses above to be correct in their essentials, we can account for other examples
given by Rochemont and Culicover 1990. First, sentences exhibiting the PTA have the following
structure:
(260) There walked into the room nude a man no one knew.
[V3 [V3 [N3 there PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [C3 into the room]] [C3 nude]] [N3 a man no one
knew]]
Second, sentences exhibiting the PIA have the following structure:
(261) Into the room John walked nude.

[V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [N3 John] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]j] [C3 nude]]]]
(262) Into the room walked John nude.

[V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [N3 [e]i] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]j] [e]k] [N3 John]i ] [C3 nude]k]]
Lastly, combining both, we have the following:
(263) Into the room there walked nude a man no one knew.
[V3 [C3 into the room]j [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 walked] [e]j] [C3 nude]] [N3 a man no one
knew]]]
The above analyses do not mean that the ETA cannot also exhibit focusing. Consider the following:
(264) In that room over there, there is a man you ought to meet.
[V3 [C3 in that room over there]i [V3 [N3 there] PRS [V2 [V0 is] [N3 a man you ought to meet]
[e]i]]]
Returning to the main point of our discussion, namely, Levin’s alternations that involve postverbal
subjects, we can make the following generalizations:
(265) a. In the prototypical clause, subjects reside in prehead position on the V3 level.
Chapter Six 451
b. When subjects occur in postverbal position in the ETA, their residence is predicate
nominative position (posthead V2) because the subjects behave like predicate
nominatives. The ETA is not a focus alternation.
c. When subjects occur in postverbal position in the PTA or PIA, their residence on V3
is preserved. Both the PTA and the PIA are focus alternations.
d. The PTA and the PIA occur only in predicates governing [+PST] phrases (see
Chapter Five, Section 5.6, Page 331 ff.):
1. In Ann Arbor, (there) live many people who never pay taxes.
2. In that pigsty, (there) live many people who never pay taxes.
3. ?In the lap of luxury, (there) live many people who never pay taxes.
4. *On a budget, (there) live many people who never pay taxes.
5. *On a shoestring, (there) live many people who never pay taxes.
e. All FP (Focused Phrases) freely reside in either prehead or posthead positions on a

higher V3 than the MDE/TNS characterizer, provided they do not violate the CEC.
The question for the present model is, What allows a particular constituent to occur in a position that
is different from its base residence as stipulated by the C–command relations that exist between
specifiers, modifiers and complements? Given the framework we have proposed, there are two
positions possible for postverbal subjects: V2 or V3. We have argued that the V2 position is the one
occupied in the ETA because such postverbal subjects act like predicate nominatives, and the ETA
is not a focus construction. Further, we have argued that the V3 position is the one occupied in the
PTA, a variation that is the result of focus.
The “trigger” for inserting the subject into postverbal position in both the ETA and the PTA is, quite
naturally, the word there. The lexical entry for there includes the information that it can occupy
subject position, that is, it is [+EVH, +PRH, +X3L, ...]. Given an arbitrary string that includes there,
a parser constructs the preceding structure (among others) for merging with the remaining words in
the sentence. Suppose now that the parser also contains the information that a subject there is a
cataphore, an item bound to a following N3 as in (266).49
(266) a. ETA: [V3 therei MDE ... [V2 VERB N3i C3 ] ]

b. PTA: [V3 therei MDE ... [V2 VERB C3 ] N3i ]
Both of the above structures are derivative. The ETA is associated with predicate nominatives;
therefore, the VERB must be one that takes a complement on V2 (There was a man no one
recognized sitting in the room; *There was a man no one recognized). The PTA is associated with
verbs that do not govern predicate nominatives (There walked into the room suddenly a man no one
recognized; *There was walked into the room suddenly a dog no one recognized). The lexical
specifications of verbs like be and walk contain the information that the former takes a V2
complement while the latter does not. Thus, the structural representations in (266) derive from the
452 Chapter Six
lexical specifications of there and subcategorial information for particular verbs. As a result, we
do not treat the word there as a dummy element inserted transformationally because English requires
a subject in prehead position. Rather, there is a meaningful cataphoric element referring forward
to some N3 in the sentence, that is, alerting speakers to upcoming structure.50
Recall that we have already explained when there can occur and why, for example, why it cannot
occur with transitive verbs (*There killed that maniac three men), why it can occur with passives
(There were three men killed by that maniac), and so on. Additional sentences involving there have
figured into much recent discussion and a variety of new proposals have been explored (Chomsky
1998, 2000; Epstein and Seely 1999). The explanations we have provided extend to the examples
cited in those references. For example, consider the following from Chomsky 1998:
(267) a. There is likely to be a proof discovered.

b. *There is likely a proof to be discovered.
(268) a. I expected a proof to be discovered.

b. *I expected to be a proof discovered.
In the grammar proposed here, the above data are lexically driven and fall out directly from our
analysis of there and the subcategorization and selectional facts of the predicates involved. In (267),
likely is subcategorized for a complementary infinitive (He is likely to discover a proof; A proof is
likely to be discovered) and not an N3 followed by an infinitive (*He is likely himself to go). In
(268), expect is subcategorized for a complementary infinitive with or without an intervening N3
(He expected to be discovered; He expected a proof to be discovered; He expected there to be a
proof discovered). In fact, if the selectional restrictions are met, the structure in (268b) is fine (He
expected to be a man chosen for great things). We turn to a full consideration of embedded
predicates like complementary infinitives in Section 7.2.
While the alternations that we have discussed do not cover all the constructions considered by Levin,
I believe that our approach has been exemplified in sufficient detail to indicate that syntactic
behavior can indeed be predicted from semantic considerations and that rather subtle syntactic
differences such as those that occur in focused phrases can be described without appeal to syntactic
movement rules. As a result, we now turn our attention to examining explicitly the hypothesis that
the grammars of natural languages do not contain a transformational component. Our focus, quite
naturally, will be on empty categories, first PRO in Chapter Seven and then [e] (=trace) in Chapter
Eight.
6.4 SUMMARY.
Chapter Six 453
Given the discussion thus far, we are in a position to answer the questions regarding syntax posed
in the Preface and repeated here for convenience:
(269) a. Question: Given that a predicate is associated with a particular set of thematic
relations, what accounts for the syntactic realization of those thematic relations, that
is, for the grammatical relations they can fulfill? For example, in the transference
of something from one entity to another as in They presented an award to the
actress, why does the transferred thing function as the grammatical direct object in
so many languages, and the recipient function as the grammatical indirect object?
b. Answer: The mapping of thematic relations to syntactic structure follows the GUF
(General Unmarked Form; Page 394), which stipulates which elements of a
predicate’s spectrum specification fill which grammatical functions in the unmarked
form. Typically, the EFC becomes SUBJECT, the SCT becomes PCOMP, and the
AFC becomes SCOMP; hence, They presented an award to the actress exemplifies
the typical unmarked realization of the GUF. The major parts of the GUF are the
following.
1. The grammatical function (GF) fulfilled by thematic relations are as follows:
Themes: EFC SCT AFC

Features: [+DSJ, ±FST] [–PST, –FST] [–DSJ, ±FST]
GF: SUBJECT PCOMP SCOMP
2. The AFC is the GOAL (AFR, ILL, ALL, etc.) in predicates with GOAL
ORIENTATION; it is the SOURCE (EFR, ELA, ABL, etc.) in predicates with
SOURCE ORIENTATION. When the noun serving as the GOAL or
SOURCE cannot be an affected entity, the primary AFC defaults to the AFR,
regardless of where that AFR is in the spectrum specification.
3. When any member of the above triplet is absent (it is a word sense, it is
understood (U), or it is demoted), its grammatical function is taken by the
theme on its immediate right.
4. When the AFC is realized as an N3, it must precede the SCT, that is, the AFC
is PCOMP and the SCT is SCOMP.
(270) a. Question: How does a grammar specify the fact that the same thematic relation can
fulfill alternative grammatical functions. For example, what accounts for the
alternation between the noun phrase and prepositional phrase complements in They
presented an award to the actress and They presented the actress with an award?
Why do we have They gave an award to the actress and They gave the actress an
award, but not *They gave the actress with an award?
454 Chapter Six
b. Answer: In addition to the GUF, the grammar contains redundancy rules which
specify the structure of thematic relations and the prepositions that realize them in
the unmarked form (see Page 338 ff. and Page 404 ff.). Further, the lexical
specification of a predicate includes an indication of those themes that the predicate
profiles. The profiling information is encoded in the specification of the syntactic
structure (N3, C3, V3, etc.) for each thematic relation and an obligatoriness code
(Page 397), which indicates whether a theme is R (Required), O (Omissible and
interpreted reflexively when absent), or U (Understood). For example, the verb
present (Page 399) profiles either its ASC or AFR themes, whereas give only profiles
its ASC.
(271) a. Question: How does a grammar specify the fact that the transferred thing is often
“incorporated” into a predicate, that is, how does a grammar express the relationship
between They gave the first–place award to her and They awarded first–place to
her? How are such contrasts related to the incorporation of goals and sources in
examples like He put the money into his pocket/He pocketed the money and They
removed the king from the throne/They dethroned the king?
b. Answer: The slots in spectrum specifications can be filled with either a word sense
or an overt lexical item. If the slot is a word sense than the predicate incorporates
the word sense (see Chapter Two, Page 114 ff.), that is, the word sense is typically
not realized overtly. For example, the verb pocket, discussed on Page 124, contains
the word senses INTO–1 POCKET–1 in its spectrum specification (He pocketed the
money/I distinctly remember pocketing the money into the front pocket of my jeans).
(272) a. Question: How does a grammar account for the fact that modification by means of
a prepositional phrase is often closely related to modification by means of an adverb,
e.g., He did it with amazing speed and He did it amazingly quickly? Further, what is
the relationship between such structures and noun phrases with a specific case
marking in other languages, for example, the Latin ablative of manner seen in
mirabili celeritate ‘with amazing speed’ which occurs in variation with a
prepositional phrase (cum celeritate ‘with speed’) and an adverb (celeriter
‘quickly’).
b. Answer: The syntactic feature matrix given in Chapter Three (Page 176, 177) lists
the features of syntactic categories (parts of speech). Related categories share
similar sets of syntactic features. For example, prepositions and manner adverbs are
[–VBL, –NML, +OPH, +PSH, +EVH, +X2L]; the last two features stipulate that
they are verbal ([+EVH]) modifiers ([+X2L]) so they are frequent paraphrases of
each other.
Chapter Six 455
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER SIX
1. The idea here is similar to the concept of “action chain” in Cognitive Grammar. Consider the
following account of Langacker 1991b: 215–216: “In a prototypical transitive clause, the profiled
process constitutes an action chain that originates with a canonical agent (volitional energy source)
and terminates with a canonical patient (energy sink). Moreover, the subject and direct object
assume their prototypical values: the former codes the agent, and the latter codes the patient.” For
further discussion, see Langacker 1991a: Chapters 7 and 8, 1991b: Chapter 9.
2. As a rule, word senses are not realized overtly; however, there may be specialized constructions
in which they are. For example, consider the cognate objects (Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 750, Levin
1993: 95–97, Macfarland 1997) in the following sentences:
(i) a. He died a horrible death.

b. She lived a good life.
Cognate objects are severely restricted lexically and syntactically as is well known:
(ii) a. *He died a miserable demise.

b. *She lived a good adulthood.
(iii) a. ?A horrible death was died by him.

b. ?A good life was lived by her.
The spectrum specification for die and live are as follows:
(iv) a. (die (CAU DEATH–1 AFC))

b. (live (CAU LIFE–1 AFC))
Given the severe restrictions on cognate objects, it seems plausible to analyze the complements in
(i) as the overt realizations of the word senses in (ii) as expressed in the following links:
(v) a. DEATH–1 ––IPS ––> [de›] (‘phonetic form of DEATH–1)

b. LIFE–1 ––IPS ––> [layf] (‘phonetic form of LIFE–1)
However, it is not clear how to predict which word senses can surface as a cognate object. For
example, while we have He died a miserable death, we do not have *He expired a miserable
expiration. Thus, I will leave the matter unresolved. For further discussion, see Macfarland 1997
which contains many examples of cognate objects including those in the passive like the following:
(vi) a. The last laugh has now been laughed, and was it ever a long one! (D. Hickman, New
456 Chapter Six
York Times, 1/31/87, 25)
b. Life cannot be understood without much charity, cannot be lived without much charity.
(Oscar Wilde, The Ideal Husband, II)
c. It is a smile that could be smiled by the whole country. (N. Woodsworth, Financial
Times, 8/25/90, IX)
3. Notice that this reversal occurs in all alternations between the PCOMP and the SCOMP:
PCOMP SCOMP
(i) They supplied the books to the students.

They supplied the students with the books.
(ii) They sprinkled the water on the flowers.

They sprinkled the flowers with water.
(iii) They gave the candy to the baby.

They gave the baby the candy.
(iv) They bought a present for the teacher.

They bought the teacher a present.
These data indicate that English requires an N3 PCOMP to the immediate right of the predicate
whenever possible. When the SCT is realized in some alternative construction (typically a P3 or an
N3 in the double object construction), the AFC moves left to fill the vacuum.
As we will see in Chapter Seven, this reversal is a general feature of all verbs that take V3
complements:
(v) a. We forced them to reconcile.

b. *We forced to reconcile upon them. (cf. We forced a reconciliation upon them.)
(vi) a. I told him that she left.

b. *I told that she left to him. (cf. I told a story to him.)
(vii) a. I asked him when he was leaving.

b. *I asked when he was leaving of him. (cf. I asked a favor of him.)
4. Recall (Section 1.5, Page 33 ff.) that the negative of an example like (19a) does not mean (20a);
still, the pair is viewed as opposite in a way that is clarified by the feature analysis we have
proposed.
Chapter Six 457
5. Notice again that “U” is not equivalent to “[u]”: the former refers to an understood theme
(semantic category); the latter, to an understood phrase (syntactic category). Thus, “[u]” can
represent a phrase that corresponds to either “O” or “U” in semantic representations:
(i) The teacher moved [u] to the back of the room.
(ii) The teacher read [u] to the children.
In (i), the understood direct object of move reflects an ASC theme that is “O”. This theme can be
overtly realized as nearly any noun phrase, e.g., The teacher moved the disruptive child to the back
of the room; however, when the theme is not overtly realized, the [u] in (i) has a reflexive
interpretation, i.e., The teacher moved [himself]/[herself] to the back of the room.
In contrast, the understood direct object of read in (ii) reflects an ASC theme that is “U”. When it
is not overtly realized as in (ii), [u] does not have a reflexive interpretation. What is understood
conceptually is some sort of reading material.
6. The term “profile” is borrowed from Cognitive Grammar (see Langacker 1987: Chapter 5, 1991b:
5–7). Langacker (1987: 491) defines “profile” as follows: “The entity designated by a semantic
structure. It is a substructure within the base that is obligatorily accessed, functions as the focal
point within the objective scene, and achieves a special degree of prominence (resulting in one level
of figure/ground organization).” As an illustration, Langacker (1991a: 297–298) provides the
following description of Floyd broke the glass: “A given scope of predication may permit a number
of profiling options. For example, if the scope subsumes the Floyd–hammer–glass action chain,
three different profiles are possible: Floyd broke the glass profiles the entire chain; The hammer
broke the glass designates only the hammer–glass interaction; and The glass broke easily, though
it invokes the efforts of an agent as part of its base, confines its profile to the thematic
change–of–state process undergone by the glass.”
I will use the term “profile” in a more specialized sense to indicate the themes that a predicate
specifies in its theme list as SUBJECT, PCOMP, and SCOMP. This specialized sense derives from
the fact that the SCOMP is here viewed as part of the “action chain” (see Endnote 1). While
Langacker would say, for example, that verbs like pour and fill profile different aspects of the base,
I will say that pour profiles the SCT as PCOMP and fill profiles the GOAL as PCOMP.
7. Part of the complexity of the representations in (28), (29), and (30) is due to the fact that we are
attempting to say that the theme list consists of an unordered set of themes. If we impose ordering
on the themes, e.g., SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP, the representations can be greatly simplified.
Henceforth, to simplify the presentation, I will only include those themes that have special relevance
to the discussion at hand. The complete theme list for verbs like present, give, and equip, the group
currently under discussion, would include the following:
(i) (present (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC P/N3 AFR P/N3))
458 Chapter Six
(ii) (give (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR P/N3))
(iii) (equip (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (EFR ASC C3 U AFR N3 R))
Since the representation of FORM–1, AFC, and EFR are not in question in the present discussion,
I can omit them thereby making it easier to compare the important elements. The reader is referred
to Chapter Two (Section 2.12) for other examples of complete specifications, as well as to the
beginning of the present chapter (Section 6.1.1) which contains a concise summary of representative
verbs.
8. This account has a long history in generative grammar. For example, in Fillmore’s earliest work
(Fillmore 1968: 32 ff.) the case relations have a PP structure in underlying representations. The
agent PP is “subjectivalized” to subject position, i.e., its preposition is suppressed, its structure
changes from PP to NP, and it is placed before the verb. The objective PP is “objectivalized” to
direct object position, i.e., its preposition is suppressed, its structure changes from PP to NP, and it
assumes direct object position.
In different languages, the profiling possibilities vary considerably. For example, in Indonesian, the
instrumental phrase can be “objectivalized” when –kan is suffixed to the verb. Consider the
following examples based on Sneddon 1996:79:
(i) Dia mengikat anjing dengan tali

he tied dog with rope
‘He tied the dog with the rope.’
(ii) Dia mengikat–kan tali ke anjing

he tied–with rope to dog
‘He tied the rope to the dog.’
9. Note that only nonpositional uses of predicates allow the double object construction.
(i) a. He sent the package (ASC) to Bill (AFR).

b. He sent Bill the package.
(ii) a. He sent the package (ASC) to Japan (ALL).

b. *He sent Japan the package.
(iii) a. He can throw the ball (ASC) to an outfielder (AFR).

b. He can throw an outfielder the ball.
(iv) a. He can throw the ball (ASC) to the outfield (ALL).

b. *He can throw the outfield the ball.
Chapter Six 459
10. As is well known, there are binding constraints on double object constructions. Barss and
Lasnik (1986: 347) offer examples like the following among several others:
(i) I showed {John, him} himself (in the mirror).
(ii) *I showed himself John (in the mirror).
To account for such examples, Barss and Lasnik suggest that anaphora conditions include reference
to linear precedence as well as C–command. Jackendoff (1990:430) stresses the role of linear order:
“The overwhelming generalization will be that linear order plays a role in these phenomena.”
Napoli (1992) also concludes that linear precedence, not C–command, is the important structural
relationship for specifying binding constraints in double object constructions.
11. Levin (1993: 138–9) lists the following verbs as not allowing the double object construction:
administer, contribute, disburse, distribute, donate, extend, forfeit, proffer, refer, reimburse,
relinquish, remit, restore, return, sacrifice, submit, surrender, transfer. She comments: “These
verbs of change of possession do not allow the dative alternation. Their failure to be found in the
double object construction has often been attributed to their Latinate character.” Unfortunately,
other verbs of Latin origin do allow the dative alternation, e.g., refund, render, serve, etc.
12. I am, of course, not the first person to have noticed these distinctions which have been
discussed in generative grammar as far back as the earliest work in Case Grammar. For a recent
account, see Levin (1993) who notes that fill–type verbs “typically describe the resulting state of a
location as a consequence of putting something in it or on it,” whereas pour–type verbs “describe
the manner in which the putting is done” (p. 120).
13. Pinker’s objective is to explain how children learn which constructions go with which verbs.
He argues against an appeal to syntax and for an appeal to semantics. Since I am also arguing that
semantics plays the pivotal role in various alternations, the representations suggested here will
explain how children come to realize that *He filled the water into the pool is ungrammatical. As
Pinker points out (1989:165), “children have to learn the meanings of verbs anyway.” That meaning
determines which alternations a verb admits.
14. Notice that the meanings of the verbs in (67) have SOURCE ORIENTATION, not to be
confused with the meanings of the same verbs with GOAL ORIENTATION. Compare the
following:
(i) a. He bought a car for her.

b. He bought her a car.
(ii) a. He bought a car from her.

b. *He bought her a car. (=He bought a car from her.)
460 Chapter Six
15. Notice that ORIENTATION is different from profiling. The former specifies which of the two
directions (SOURCE or GOAL) the predicate is oriented along; this, in turn, determines the primary
AFC, the entity that is primarily affected in the transfer. Profiling concerns the promotion of themes
to SUBJECT and PCOMP position.
16. The designation BOUND_POSSESSIVE–1 accounts for verbs like shrug (She shrugged
her/*his shoulders) and wink (She winked her/*his eye). It also points to idiomatic expressions like
lose one’s cool as in John lost his cool and *John lost Mary’s cool.
17. A word sense like READING_MATERIAL–1 points to a whole class of objects such as those
described in various thesauri and dictionaries organized around subject matters. Such classes are
an essential part of categorizing information for retrieval. For example, in WordNet (Miller 1990,
Miller and Fellbaum 1992), there is a related class WRITTEN_MATERIAL which points to a wide
variety of words like diary, inscription, treatise, essay, document, book, letter, and so on.
18. Of course, one can add a CIRCUMSTANTIAL theme to specify the clothing: She dressed
(herself) formally, She was dressed in formal attire, She dressed (herself) in black, She dressed the
baby in very expensive clothes, etc.
19. The restriction is similar to the One Affix Condition (Page 186) which stipulates that a word
cannot be marked by more than one grammatical marker from the same set of mutually exclusive
grammatical markers, i.e., no more than one number, no more than one tense, etc.
20. There must be some contrast between the two phrases similar to expressions that occur with
other verbs like poison, bleach, deodorize, etc. Compare the following:
(i) a. ?She waved her hand with her hand.

b. She gently waved her broken left hand with her uninjured right hand.
(ii) a. ?She poisoned the mice with poison.

b. She poisoned the mice with rat poison.
(iii) a. ?She bleached the fabric with bleach.

b. She bleached the fabric with Clorox.
For discussion, see Levin 1993: 95–97.
21. Recall that TYPOLOGICAL1 links point to a larger class, whereas TYPOLOGICAL2 links
point to a smaller one, the member. Similarly, COMPONENTIAL1 links point to the larger part,
whereas COMPONENTIAL2 links point to the smaller part.
Chapter Six 461
22. Notice that there is no ASC in the theme list of climb. In such cases, COREFERENTIAL ASC
INTERPRETATION (Page 346) applies: If the theme list of a POSITIONAL predicate with an
EFC in SUBJECT slot does not contain an ASC, then the ASC is coreferential with the EFC as we
saw in the last chapter with verbs like storm, charge, flee, escape, lunge, burst, etc.
23. As we will see shortly, there is another sense of climb which means move in any vertical
direction, up or down, allowing such examples as He climbed down into the well.
24. There are some sentences where it appears that verbs like climb have a direct object:
(i) a. He climbed his way up the mountain.

b. He climbed himself into a state of exhaustion.
Both of these examples are highly constrained. The “X’s way construction” in (i–a) must contain
the word way and the possessive must agree in person, number, and gender with the subject; the
reflexive in (i–b) must be followed by some RESULTATIVE or TERMINATIVE expression. Given
these restrictions, it does not seem appropriate to say that climb can be a transitive verb because of
examples like (i); rather, both of the above possibilities should be handled by lexical rules of some
sort. Note that both constructions extend to verbs that are clearly intransitive:
(ii) a. He hiccoughed his way up the mountain.

b. He hiccoughed himself into a coma.
For a discussion of the X’s way construction and resultatives, see Levin and Rappaport Hovav 1994
and the references cited there.
The examples in (105) are from Webster’s Third International Dictionary.
25. The networks supplied here are simplified for illustrative purposes as before. In a complete
network much more detail is required. For example, in the network for bodies of water, I say
nothing here about slope, the effects of gravity, depth, and a host of other important conditions.
Fortunately, such detail is not crucial to understanding the overall approach.
26. The difference between the meaning of a by–phrase and a with–phrase is discussed in detail
by Nilsen (1973: 103 ff.) which is an in depth study of the instrumental in English and contains
many important observations and illustrations.
27. The issues here a very complex; further, they would appear to require an elaborate formalism
on the order of a semantic/knowledge network to be fully explicated. For example, it is conceivable
that a tornado could lift a house off the ground and deposit it back down without destroying the
house. Alternatively, a house might be destroyed while it is inside the tornado. In the latter
scenario, one might conceivably say (i).
462 Chapter Six
(i) In the tornado is where the house was destroyed/whirling/photographed.
Thus, in the tornado might refer to a position in space as opposed to an event in time. Further,
notice that a force interpretation for tornado occurs even when an expression of time or place is
added:
(ii) a. The tornado of 1975 destroyed twelve houses.

b. Twelve houses were destroyed by the tornado of 1975.
(iii) a. The tornado in Livingston County has already destroyed twelve houses.
b. Twelve houses have already been destroyed by the tornado in Livingston County.
The interpretive possibilities for (ii) and (iii) – agency, place, time, manner – are different from those
of (iv) and other examples like (v).
(iv) a. Twelve houses were destroyed in the tornado of 1975.

b. Twelve houses have already been destroyed in the Livingston County tornado.
(v) Twelve houses were destroyed in the explosion/fire/earthquake/flood.
However, it seems clear that the words like sun, tornado, explosion, etc. must be interpreted as
forces in all the following:
(vi) a. The sun dried the clothes. The clothes were dried by the sun.
b. The tornado destroyed the town. The town was destroyed by the tornado.
c. The explosion leveled the building. The building was leveled by the
explosion.
28. Fillmore (1970, 1971) contains some early work in the framework of case grammar that
attempts to specify such characteristics of a verb’s meaning, e.g., the difference between the kinds
of objects which can be folded and bent, what a sentence like I broke the dog can mean, and related
matters. The issues are important not only to semantic theory but to neuropsychology and artificial
intelligence. For a good compilation of papers from several different perspectives, see Small, S. et
al. 1988.
29. If my analysis for instruments in English proves to be incorrect, then the feature system I have
proposed is faced with a serious challenge. Specifically, given the feature space defined in Chapter
One, there is no simple way to abbreviate the INSTRUMENTAL, EFFECTIVE, EXPEDIENTIAL
and CAUSAL themes, given the fact that INSTRUMENTAL themes are [–DSJ, –CNJ] whereas the
other three are [+DSJ, –CNJ]. On the other hand, I would argue that my analysis is actually
supported by the fact that one cannot easily abbreviate the four themes with the proposed features
and by the fact that the preposition with marks INSTRUMENTAL themes and never marks any of
the other three. Further, I would conjecture that INSTRUMENTAL themes would have to be
defined by a different feature space than the one presented here in a language where instruments,
Chapter Six 463
qua instruments, can indeed serve as subjects.
30. Notice that the INS is not specified with any special markings, therefore, the redundancies
given in Section 6.1.4, specifically (59), apply. In the verbs being discussed, the INS does not
become the PCOMP; it has the usual unmarked form of a MOD, namely, C3. In general,
INSTRUMENTAL themes do not fill the PCOMP slot, except in isolated cases like He used the
knife to slice the salami.
31. The structure proposed here for resultative phrases is consonant with what Carrier and Randall
1992 call the “Ternary Analysis,” that is, a V1 (=VP) structure that branches into three constituents.
(i) [V3 [N3 Bill] PST [V1 [V0 pound] [N3 the metal] [C3 flat] ]]
(ii) [S [NP Bill] PST [VP [V pound] [NP the metal] [AP flat] ]]
This ternary structure is opposed to two other structures containing small clauses that Carrier and
Randall investigate. Their conclusion, that the evidence “comes down heavily in favor of the
Ternary Analysis” (Page 225) is reached after an extensive discussion of transitive and intransitive
resultatives. Although their syntactic framework is different from the one proposed here, their
conclusions are equally relevant to our proposals as the virtual identity of the above structures makes
clear.
32. Other examples include the following:
(i) John wants to go.
[V3 [N3 John] PRS [V1 [V0 want] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 go]]]]]
(ii) John wants Bill to go.
[V3 [N3 John] PRS [V1 [V0 want] [N3 Bill] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 go]]]]]
In (i), John immediately C–commands and precedes both want and go, so John is the subject of both
verbs. In (ii), John immediately C–commands and precedes want, so it is the subject of want; Bill
C–commands and follows want, so it is the object of want; simultaneously, Bill C–commands and
precedes go, so it is the subject of go. Clearly, this account violates the theta–criterion. I will
discuss PRO specifically in Chapter Seven, where I will provide an account for the “understood”
subjects of infinitives, participles, etc. For additional discussion and justification, see Binkert 1984,
1994.
33. Recall from Section 2.4 Page 88 ff., that there are two types of FORM–2 changes. Some are
generally static, irreversible and nonrecoverable, those that are ATT (He killed the bug); others are
464 Chapter Six
generally dynamic, reversible and recoverable, those that are CIR (He melted the ice).
34. As I noted at the end of the preceding section, the middle alternation should not be handled
by saying the EFC is optional, that is, putting a “U” in the spectrum specification. Sentences like
This bread cuts easily are very limited and derive from the FORM–2 change identified in the
spectrum specification. The situation is roughly the same with the passive construction, although
the passive is marked by a specific change in the form of the verb. In fact, the use of the term
“middle” derives from its superficial similarity to the passive (cf. Ancient Greek where the middle
and the passive have the same form morphologically but quite distinct meanings; Smyth 1956:
389–398). It would be incorrect to say that transitive verbs allowing the passive or middle with an
uninstantiated EFC have an optional EFC. Such a specification suggests that the EFC can be
nonovert in an ordinary active sentence. Thus, the presence of the “U” in (180) and its absence in
(181) have nothing to do with the middle or the passive, which are covered by redundancy rules.
In any case, as we have noted, the middle alternation requires a modifier, and modifiers are not part
of the GUF. Recall that our discussion of the verb ferry at the conclusion of Chapter Two similarly
did not include the EXPEDIENTIAL modifier FERRY–1 in the spectrum specification.
35. There are, of course, both intentional and unintentional interpretations possible in many
instances, e.g., She cut herself. For discussion, see Levin, Section 7.6.1, Page 101 ff.
36. The passive in the infinitive in (184) – (187) is awkward but nonetheless necessary to reveal
the contrast in the examples. Note that the grammaticality of the active infinitive replicates the finite
use:
(i) a. John caused the china to break. (cf. The china broke.)
b. John caused the metal to liquefy. (cf. The metal liquefied.)
c. John caused the ball to drop. (cf. The ball dropped.)
(ii) a. *John caused the bread to cut. (cf. *The bread cut.)
b. *John caused the grass to kill. (cf. *The grass killed.)
c. *John caused the ball to throw. (cf. *The ball threw.)
37. For an excellent discussion of Bowerman’s examples in terms which do not involve the
unaccusative hypothesis, as well as a summary and integration of work regarding thematic
hierarchies, verb alternations, the mapping of thematic roles onto grammatical functions, and related
topics, see Pinker 1984: Chapter 8, 291–347.
38. Braine (1976: 34-35) does contain examples like those in (i)–(iii), which seem to be agentless
transitives, that is, the agent subject of (188b) is unexpressed but the patient object is.
(i) Hurt knee.

(ii) Spilt raisin.
(iii) Bounce ball.
Chapter Six 465
39. Keyser and Roeper (1984: 402) propose a three step process for deriving sentences like The
ship sank. “The first step involves the same operations needed for passives and middles: remove
case from the object and dethematize the subject. The second step is just like the middle formation,
but it occurs in the lexicon. The object subcategorization is moved to subject position, leaving a
lexical trace behind:
sink/ [S NP [VP __ [NP] ]]

[S NPi [VP __ [ti] ]]
The lexical trace (ti) is indexed with the subject position and thereby confers the thematic role
(theme) on the subject. The third step involves deletion of the agent role normally assigned to
subject position by the VP of the lexical entry.”
Although the movement rule, in this analysis, occurs in the lexicon, it still begins with an NP in
object position that is subsequently moved to subject position, so that the objections I have raised
remain. Moreover, the third step, deletion of the agent role normally assigned to subject position,
is patently ad hoc, necessary only to avoid a violation of the theta–criterion.
40. As Radford (1990: 251–252) notes, “there are relatively few examples of children at this stage
making productive use of three–place predicate structure – that is, structures in which a predicate
has a single external argument and two internal arguments...”
41. Recall the discussion on Page 403 and in Endnote 11.
42. The parenthetical examples in (200) are given to show that the sentence initial elements are
single constituents. It is well known that prepositional verbs like sit on differ from particle verbs
like put on (Quirk, R. et al. 1985: Section 16.2, Page 1150 ff.):
(i) a. Mary sat on the hat. (on the hat is a constituent)

b. It was on the hat that Mary sat.
c. May sat right on the hat.
(ii) a. Mary put on the hat. (on the hat is not a constituent)
b. *It was on the hat that Mary put.
c. *Mary put right on the hat.
Verbs that are ambiguous (either prepositional or particle) are unambiguous when the preposition
or particle and following noun phrase are clefted or modified:
(iii) a. The farmer looked over the fence. (look over means either ‘inspect’ or ‘gaze above’)
b. It was over the fence that the farmer looked. (look over can only mean ‘gaze above’)
c. The farmer looked right over the fence. (look over can only mean ‘gaze above’)
466 Chapter Six
However, constituent structure alone does not determine the possible variations. Some prepositional
verbs, particularly those with an idiomatic sense, cannot be clefted. Compare the two sets of
examples in each of the following:
(iv) a. The car turned right into the alley.

b. Into the alley, turned the car.
c. It was into the alley that the car turned.
d. The frog turned right into a prince.

e. *Into a prince, turned the frog.
f. *It was into a prince that the frog turned.
(v) a. The little boy fearlessly jumped right on the horse.

b. On the horse, jumped the little boy fearlessly.
c. It was on the horse that the little boy fearlessly jumped.
d. The students jumped right on the bandwagon.

e. *On the bandwagon, jumped the students. (OK with literal meaning)
f. *It was on the bandwagon that the students jumped. (OK with literal meaning)
43. The PTA and PIA are focus constructions (Coopmans 1989, 1992; Rochemont and Culicover
(1990), sometimes considered the result of stylistic rules (Rochemont 1978). As Coopmans
observes (1992: 206–207) “...these constructions are better termed ‘focus’ constructions, to do
justice to their outstanding feature – the ability to focus a specific phrase in the sentence
structurally.” Focus depends a great deal on context. With no context available, focus depends on
imagination. Thus, judgements of acceptability vary enormously. I have solicited judgements
regarding the sentences presented here to both professionals and nonprofessionals, and even to the
same individual an hour or so apart. Many sentences, are judged perfectly grammatical all the time,
while others are judged ungrammatical quite consistently. However, in the middle are sentences that
vary from questionable to very questionable, to downright ungrammatical. In the list presented
below, the grammatical examples are left unmarked, the generally ungrammatical sentences are
marked with an asterisk, and the generally so–so sentences are marked with a question mark, as is
usual. I use the symbol “#” to mark sentences that vary from “?” to “??” to “*”. Their exact status,
if indeed there is an exact status, need not concern us here.
44. Ward and Birner (1995) argue that the DE derives from a discourse–based principle: the
postverbal NP in the ETA must represent an entity that the speaker believes is not already known
to the hearer. See also, Prince, E. 1992.
45. Levin (1993: 90) remarks that a very few transitive verbs can occur in the there–insertion
alternation: await, confront, cross, enter, follow, reach, seize, take (place/shape), want. She
provides the following example:
Chapter Six 467
(i) a. Suddenly an ugly old man entered the hall.
b. Suddenly there entered the hall an ugly old man.
I do not believe that (i) is an example of the ETA. Notice that placing the subject directly after the
verb is not possible:
(ii) *Suddenly there entered an ugly old man the hall.
It seems to me that (i) is an instance of the PTA.
46. I believe that (243b) is still not fully acceptable because it involves two successive
WH–questions, and, as we have suggested, human beings cannot utilize an analytical procedure,
e.g., analyze WH–phrase, while they are already in the process of performing that analytical
procedure. In any case, (243a) seems much worse than (243b).
47. The issues involving focused phrases are very complicated as Rochemont and Culicover
observe throughout their book. In addition to emphasis and pauses, context is also very important
as we have stressed before. I do not have an explanation for all the examples they give in (240).
However, I do not think that the examples have the same degree of unacceptability; some seem
better to me than others. Whatever the subtle factors are, it seems to me incorrect to simply say that
multiple instances of topicalization are impossible in English.
48. Notice that the postverbal subjects in PTA and PIA, as we have described them, are not
topicalized phrases. They reside on the same X3 level as MDE. I am not certain whether a
representation like (i) – the one we have adopted here – is actually necessary.
(i) [V3 [C3 into the room] [V3 [e]i PST [V0 walked] [N3 John]i]]
The following may suffice:
(ii) [V3 [C3 into the room] [V3 PST [V0 walked] [N3 John]]
49. For the most part, cataphoric there is in complementary distribution to cataphoric it. The
former refers forward to an N3; the latter, to a V3:
(i) a. There is a man in the room.

b. In the room, there is a man.
c. *There is odd that he left.
d. *Odd there is that he left.
(ii) a. *It is a man in the room. (Where it is not pronominal.)

b. *In the room, it is a man.
c. It is odd that he left.
468 Chapter Six
d. Odd it is that he left.
50. For further discussion of the meaning of existentials, see Smith 1996 and the references there
cited.
CHAPTER SEVEN
7.1 SEMANTIC AND SYNTACTIC FRAMES.
We have proposed that all predicates must be mapped to spectrum specifications of the following
form:1
The features in every spectrum specification ultimately reduce to visually verifiable features, the
nonpositional ones being metaphors for the positional ones. Thus, our account of semantics is based
on perception.
Further, we have proposed that all phrases must be mapped to structures of the following form:
(2) [Xm ([+NML]) ([–NML]) Xn ([+NML]) ([–NML]) ] where n # m
The morphosyntactic features specified in all phrases are part of a larger system based on the
concept of residence which refers to the linear and hierarchical position that categories can occupy.
Essentially, therefore, syntax is based on the division of sentences into subchunks, a direct
consequence of the severe constraints on human short term memory (STM) capacity. Thus, our
account of syntax is rooted in human cognitive abilities.
7.2 EMBEDDED PREDICATES.
Thus far, we have said very little about embedded predicates. Most of our discussion of thematic
relations has involved syntactic realizations in the form of N3 (noun phrases) or P3 (prepositional
phrases). In this section, we turn our attention to embedded predicates, that is, thematic relations
that are realized syntactically as various forms of V3, including verbal adjectives and verbal nouns
(participles, gerunds and infinitives) and finite sentences (that–clauses, WH–clauses, etc.). As we
have suggested, an adequate theory of thematic relations must assign a theme to embedded V3 to
account for examples like the following:2
(3) a. We forced them into reconciliation.

b. We forced them into reconciling.
c. We forced them to reconcile.
d. They were forced by us into reconciliation.
e. They were forced by us into reconciling.
f. They were forced by us to reconcile.
470 Chapter Seven
If into the lock in (4) is a [–DSJ, +CNJ] theme, which it most certainly is, then the SCOMP in all
the examples in (3) must also be some [–DSJ, +CNJ] theme. This includes the gerundial nominals
and the infinitives.
(4) He forced the key into the lock.
There are many sets of examples which have nominals of various kinds alternating with infinitives,
gerunds, and clauses:
(5) a. I wish them success.

b. I want them to succeed.
c. I hope that they succeed.
(6) a. She recommends regular exercise to her patients.

b. She recommends to her patients that they exercise regularly.
c. She urges her patients to exercise regularly.
(7) a. They prefer relaxation rather than hard work.

b. They prefer relaxing rather than working hard.
c. They prefer to relax rather than to work hard.
(8) a. They considered further discussion of the matter dumb.

b. They considered discussing the matter further dumb.
c. They considered it dumb to discuss the matter further.
d. Further discussion of the matter was considered dumb.

e. Discussing the matter further was considered dumb.
f. It was considered dumb to discuss the matter further.
To account for such parallels, an adequate grammar must assign a thematic relation to all syntactic
arguments whether they are N3, P3, or V3. We begin the discussion with a review of some of the
structures we have considered.
7.2.1 THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF VERBAL ADJECTIVES AND VERBAL NOUNS.
In Chapter Three, Section 3.1.2 (Page 166 ff.) and Section 3.5 (Page 206 ff.), we discussed the
motivation for assigning all –ing and –ed forms in English the following parallel structures:
(9) Progressive Participles (PRGP) and Derived Adjectives in –ing (DA1).
a. Participle (a lady charming a man): [C3 [C1 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 charming]]]]
b. Adjective (a very charming lady): [C3 [C1 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1]]]
Chapter Seven 471
(10) Passive Participles (PSVP) and Adjectives in –ed/–en (DA2).
a. Participle (charmed by her flattery): [C3 [C1 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 charmed]]]]
b. Adjective (a very charmed life): [C3 [C1 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2]]]
(11) Gerundial Nominals (GN) and Derived Nominals (DN).
a. GN (charming candy from a baby): [N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V0 charming]]]]
b. DN: (such charming of snakes): [N3 [N0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [N0 DN]]]
(12) Summary of Verbal Structures.
[C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V0 charming]] ]]

[C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V0 charmed]] ]]
[N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V0 charming]] ]]
[C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [C0 DA1] ]]

[C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 charmed]] [C0 DA2] ]]
[N3 [N0 [V3 [V0 charming]] [N0 DN] ]]
We noted that the four possible ing–forms in English have the feature specification [–VBL] (they
are subjuncts); two are [–NML] (the derived adjective and the present participle); two are [+NML]
(the derived nominal and the gerundial nominal). Further, the two members of each pair are mirror
images of each other. Thus, all ing–forms are subjuncts with a V3 embedded on their X0 level.3
Further, we have proposed that the internal structure of infinitives, like those in (13) and (14),
parallels the other verbal adjectives, and that subjects and objects are identified by the C–command
relations discussed in Chapter Six (see Page 430) and repeated here as (15):
(13) John wants to go.

[V3 [N3 John] PRS [V1 [V0 want] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 go]]] ]]
(14) John wants Bill to go.

[V3 [N3 John] PRS [V1 [V0 want] [N3 Bill] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 go]]] ]]
(15) a. The subject of a predicate is the N3 which most immediately C–commands and
precedes the predicate.
b. The object of a predicate is the N3 which most immediately C–commands and

follows the predicate.
472 Chapter Seven
In (13), John immediately C–commands and precedes both want and go, so John is the subject of
both verbs. In (14), John immediately C–commands and precedes want, so it is the subject of want;
Bill C–commands and follows want, so it is the object of want; simultaneously, Bill C–commands
and precedes go, so it is the subject of go.
Similarly, we account for examples like the following:
(16) John wants Bill to try to get Sue to sing.
[V3 [N3 [N0 John]] PRS [V1 [V0 want] [N3 [N0 Bill]] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V1 [V0 try] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3
[V1 [V0 get] [N3 [N0 Sue]] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V0 sing] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]]
John immediately C–commands and precedes want so John is the subject of want.
Bill immediately C–commands and follows want so Bill is the object of want.
Bill immediately C–commands and precedes try and get so Bill is the subject of both.
Sue immediately C–commands and follows get so Sue is the object of get.
Sue immediately C–commands and precedes sing so Sue is the subject of sing.
(17) John wants to try to get Sue to stop Al from singing.
[V3 [N3 [N0 John]] PRS [V1 [V0 want] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V1 [V0 try] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V1 [V0 get]
[N3 [N0 Sue]] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V1 [V0 stop] [N3 [N0 Al]][C3 [C1 [C0 from] [N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V0
singing] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]] ]]
The interpretation is the same as (16), except that want has no object, so John, which now
immediately C–commands and precedes try, is the subject of try. Further, Al, which
immediately C–commands and follows stop and immediately C–commands and precedes
singing, is the object of stop and the subject of singing.
Given the above, we have parallel examples like the following:
(18) a. We forced the key into the lock.

[V3 we PST [V1 [V0 force] [N3 the key] [C3 [C1 [C0 into] [N3 the lock] ]] ]]
b. We forced them into reconciliation.

[V3 we PST [V1 [V0 force] [N3 them] [C3 [C1 [C0 into] [N3 reconciliation] ]] ]]
c. We forced them into reconciling.

[V3 we PST [V1 [V0 force] [N3 them] [C3[C1[C0 into] [N3 [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V1 [V0 reconciling]
]] ]] ]] ]]
d. We forced them to reconcile.

[V3 we PST [V1 [V0 force] [N3 them] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V1 [V0 reconcile] ]] ]] ]]
Chapter Seven 473
Recall (Page 339) that the lexical entry for a verb like insert is (19) which accounts for the variations
in (20):
(19) INSERT–1

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. ILL
(20) a. The janitor inserted the key into the lock.

b. *The janitor inserted.
c. The janitor inserted the key.
d. *The janitor inserted into the lock.
e. *The janitor inserted the lock with the key.
f. *The janitor inserted the lock.
The lexical entry for the word force includes the noun form FORCE–1a and the verb form
FORCE–1b. Following (19), the verb force is (21), which specifies two meanings and includes
FORCE–1a as an incorporated word sense:4
(21) FORCE–1b1 (‘to move with force’)
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (U ASC ILL))

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. ILL
e. CIR: FORCE–1a
FORCE–1b2 (‘to influence with force’)
a. (IGR (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (U TRM AFR))

b. EFC
c. TRM P/N3
d. AFR P/N3 UPON–1
e. CIR: FORCE–1a
The various instantiations in (18) are given in (22).

474 Chapter Seven
(22) (force (EFC FORM–1 AFC) (U ASC_TRM ILL_AFR))
a. (force (we FORM–1 lock) (U key lock))

b. (force (we FORM–1 them) (U reconciliation them))
c. (force (we FORM–1 them) (U reconciling them))
d. (force (we FORM–1 them) (U reconcile them))
To the redundancies previously discussed (see Page 404 ff.), we now add the following:
(23) INFINITIVE complements:5
a. Are [–PST]
b. Are C3.
c. Are governed by the preposition TO–1.
Further, the grammar of English must contain at least the following classes and subclasses for
different types of V3 complements:
(24) INFINITIVE CLASSES.

a. INF1 complementary infinitive only I agreed (*him) to go.
b. INF2 object + infinitive I believe him to be smart.
c. INF3 bare infinitive I dare not go.
d. INF4 object + bare infinitive I saw him go.
(25) FOR P3 + INFINITIVE CLASSES.

a. FOR1 infinitive possible; for optional I wish (for) him to go.
c. FOR2 infinitive possible; for obligatory I prayed for him to go.
d. FOR3 infinitive possible; for variable I want (*for) him to go.
I want very much *(for) him to go.
e. FOR4 infinitive possible; other prep I rely on him to go.
(26) GERUNDIAL NOMINAL CLASSES.

a. GER1 complementary gerundial nominal I like playing soccer.
b. GER2 object + gerundial nominal I discouraged him from applying.
(27) PARTICIPLE CLASSES.

a. PART1 complementary participle She entered laughing.
b. PART2 object + complementary participle I found her crying.
(28) that–V3 CLASSES.

a. THAT1 that–V3 possible; that optional I know (that) he went.
b. THAT2 obligatory that I whispered *(that) he went.
c. THAT3 verb in that–clause is subjunctive I prefer (that) he go.
d. THAT4 verb in that–clause is conditional I doubted (that) he would go.
Chapter Seven 475
(29) WH–V3 CLASSES.
a. WHQ1 object + finite or infinitival WH–V3 I asked (him) what he did.
I asked (him) what to do.
b. WHQ2 finite or infinitival WH–V3 I know (*him) what he did.
I know (*him) what to do.
c. WHQ3 P3 + finite WH–V3 I divulged (to them) what he did.
The assignment of verbs to the classes listed above is generalizable. For example, verbs of saying
usually take indirect statements of the form THAT1; verbs of asking usually take indirect questions
of the form WHQ1 or WHQ2; and, verbs of ordering usually take indirect commands of the form
INF2. These associations are generalizable over classes in the partial network in (30) and from the
additional specifications given further below.6 Consider first the links specified in (30).
(30) a. ACT–1 ––TYP1 ––> SPEECH_ACT–1

b. ACT–1 ––CPT1 ––> EFFECTIVE
d. SPEECH_ACT–1 ––TYP1 ––> UTTERANCE–1

e. SPEECH_ACT–1 ––TYP1 ––> ILLOCUTION–1
f. SPEECH_ACT–1 ––TYP1 ––> PERLOCUTION–1
g. SPEECH_ACT–1 ––TYP1 ––> PROPOSITION–1
h. SPEECH–1 ––INS ––> ILLOCUTION–1

i. COMMUNICATION–1 ––PUR ––> ILLOCUTION–1
j. ADDRESSER–1 ––EFR ––> ILLOCUTION–1
k. ADDRESSEE–1 ––AFR ––> ILLOCUTION–1
l. ILLOCUTION–1 ––TYP1 ––> DECLARATIVE–1

m. ILLOCUTION–1 ––TYP1 ––> INTERROGATIVE–1
n ILLOCUTION–1 ––TYP1 ––> IMPERATIVE–1
From this portion of the network, we learn that one type of act is a speech act and that all acts have
an EFC theme as a component (though predictable, I will continue to include the EFC in
representations for clarity). We also learn that there are four major classes of speech acts: utterance
acts, illocutionary acts, perlocutionary acts, and propositional acts (Austin, J. 1962, Searle 1969,
Bach and Harnish 1979). Further, an illocution uses speech for the purpose of communication and
is directed from an addresser to an addressee. Lastly, there are (at least) three types of illocutions
(declarative, interrogative, and imperative).
Importantly, (30) has more than taxonomic significance. Networks supply information which is
crucial in assigning the appropriate meaning to sentences. A parser/grammar must be able to
determine which structures can be merged in the formation of larger phrases. For example, in (31a),
notice that the phrase by John would most likely be understood as either an EFC theme associated
with order or a POSITIONAL theme associated with sit; however, in (31b), by John cannot be
understood as an EFC theme at all.
476 Chapter Seven
(31) a. Sue was ordered to sit by John.
b. Sue was afraid to sit by John.
We account for the different interpretations of by John in (31) by searching the network for
appropriate links and, in effect, matching the results with the thematic specifications of individual
predicates. To be effective, merge routines must make use of more information than syntactic
categorization. For example, they must be able to determine whether or not a particular verb has
a link, either direct or inherited, to a particular theme as one of its components. Such information
is crucial to sorting out the appropriate phrase structures from the syntactically possible ones in
examples like (31). Among other things, although the verb sit would inherit an EFC theme as one
of its components in an appropriately expanded network, the redundancies associated with the GUF
stipulate that the EFC theme must be the SUBJECT in the active; thus, John cannot be doing the
sitting in either of the examples in (31). Further, since afraid does not have an EFC theme as one
of its components, by John in (31) can only be an EFC theme associated with order in (31a).
Significantly, the conclusion regarding the possible interpretations of by John in (31) is not reached
by looking only at the links attached to order, sit and afraid. In particular, the verb order is found
in a specific type of illocution, all illocutions are acts, and all acts have an EFC theme. We see these
connections in the following additional links:
(32) a.. DECLARATIVE–1 ––CPT1 ––> STATEMENT–1

b. DECLARATIVE–1 ––CPT1 ––> AFFERENTIAL
c. DECLARATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT1–1
d. DECLARATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT2–1
e. DECLARATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT3–1
f. DECLARATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT4–1
g. THAT4–1 ––TYP1 ––> SAY–1
(33) a. INTERROGATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WHQ1–1

b. INTERROGATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WHQ2–1
c. INTERROGATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> WHQ3–1
d. INTERROGATIVE–1 ––CPT1 ––> QUESTION–1
e. INTERROGATIVE–1 ––CPT1 ––> EFFERENTIAL
f. WHQ1–1 ––TYP1 ––> ASK–1
(34) a. IMPERATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> INF2–1

b. IMPERATIVE–1 ––TYP1 ––> THAT3–1
c. IMPERATIVE–1 ––CPT1 ––> COMMAND–1
d. IMPERATIVE–1 ––CPT1 ––> AFFERENTIAL
e. INF2–1 ––TYP1 ––> ORDER–1
These links tell us that a declarative illocution has GOAL ORIENTATION, since one of its
components is AFFERENTIAL, and that it involves the transference of a statement; that an
interrogative illocution has SOURCE ORIENTATION and involves the transference of a question;
and, that an imperative illocution has GOAL ORIENTATION and involves the transference of a
Chapter Seven 477
command. The links further break down the various classes within each type. The verb order in
(31a) is linked to ORDER–1, which, in turn, is linked up to ACT–1. Thus, the fact that by John is
an EFC theme associated with order is not accounted for by a direct link between order and EFC;
rather, it is inherited because an EFC theme is a component of all acts, a specification represented
by (30b), and ORDER–1 is linked to ACT–1.
Within each of the above classes of illocutions, various subclasses can also be connected to
systematic principles. For example, verbs of saying that take indirect statements with an obligatory
that (THAT2–1), e.g., quip, whisper, chortle, sob, groan, etc., incorporate a manner of saying into
their meaning. As before, we account for this with particular links, e.g., for the verb whisper,
CIRCUMSTANTIAL links to characteristics like faintness. As Levin 1993 and Pinker 1989 have
argued, this additional semantic information is often the key to predicting syntactic variations. Here,
it predicts the assignment of a verb to THAT2–1 as opposed to THAT1–1.
Importantly, if a particular verb takes an embedded V3 in addition to an N3 or P3, the resulting

structure with the embedded V3 can generally be derived from its basic theme list. Thus, since we
have We forced them into the room, it is not surprising that we also have We forced them into
reconciling and We forced them to reconcile. Similarly, I divulged (to them) how the
comedy–thriller starring Pee Wee Herman ended parallels I divulged (to them) the ending of the
comedy–thriller starring Pee Wee Herman; The teacher told the children that it was time for lunch
parallels The teacher told the children a story; They hired him to do the job parallels They hired him
for the job.
Returning to our discussion of the verb force, we include the following link:
(35) INF2–1 ––TYP2 ––> FORCE–1b
This particular link is conditioned by the meaning of force when it takes an embedded V3: the usage
parallels indirect commands like I ordered them to reconcile. Thus, the classes above are not ad
hoc lists. They are motivated by semantic considerations: first, whether the verb is declarative,
interrogative, or imperative; second, whether the verb has GOAL ORIENTATION or SOURCE
ORIENTATION. It is such considerations that allow speakers to predict the meaning of words they
do not know, e.g., (perhaps) importune in Bill importuned John to go.
7.2.2 FINITE AND NONFINITE V3.
An important feature of the structural representations provided above is that they allow us to capture
categorial relationships between various types of X3 such as the following in a straightforward way:
(36) a. John is going to work. (= John is on his way to work)

[V3 [N3 John] PRS [V2 [V0 be] [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V1 [V0 going]
[C3 [C1 [C0 to] [N3 [N0 work]] ]] ]] ]] ]]
478 Chapter Seven
b. John is going to work. (= John is about to work)
[V3 [N3 John] PRS [V2 [V0 be] [C3 [C0 [C0 PRGP] [V3 [V1 [V0 going]
[C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V0 work]] ]] ]] ]] ]]
There are two important aspects of the representations in (36) that require comment. First, they
place the preposition to and infinitive marker to in parallel structures. We have similar pairs, though
they are not easy to think up, like the following where the word to is closely linked with the
governing verb:7
(37) a. They agreed to a cease fire/to a divorce/to a compromise.

b. They agreed to cease fire/to divorce/to compromise.
In additional to these parallels, both the preposition to and the infinitive marker to can be contracted:
(38) a. They’re too used to war. > They’re too [yustc] war (noun).
b. They too used to war. > They too [yustc] war (verb).
(39) a. I am going to school/work. > I’m [gowcnc] school/work (nouns).

b. I am going to play/work. > I’m [gowcnc] play/work (verbs).
Finally, notice that the infinitive marker to cannot be followed by any complementizer, a restriction
shared by all prepositions:
(40) a. *I agreed to that she should go.

b. *Do you have a problem with that he wants to go.
c. *She talked about that he went.
Despite the above examples, we still must distinguish the two uses of to for two reasons.8 First,
other contractions produce different results:
(41) a. I am going to school/work. > *I’m [gcnc] school/work (nouns).

b. I am going to play/work. > I’m [gcnc] play/work (verbs).
Second, only the preposition to can be followed by an [e] coindexed with a WH–phrase:
(42) a. [What terms]i did he agree to [e]i?

b. *[What]i does he want to [e]i?
The infinitive marker to can be stranded, but only in omission:
(43) You can agree with him if you want to [u].
Thus, while the two uses of to under discussion are related, they clearly are not identical. On the
other hand, to call the infinitive marker some completely different part of speech seems incorrect
Chapter Seven 479
given the characteristics they do share. There are a few other prepositions in English which also
govern infinitives like the following, where again a new categorial assignment seems inappropriate:
(44) a. He met everyone but/except Sue.

b. He did everything but/except sue.
(45) a. Who(m) can he meet besides/other than Sue?

b. What can he do besides/other than sue?
Notice that these infinitive markers are not dummy elements; they add meaning to the sentence:
(46) a. He’ll do anything but sing and dance.

b. He’ll do anything to sing and dance.
Since the infinitive marker to is in complementary distribution to other mode markers ([PST],
[PRGP], [PSVP], etc.), suppose we mark it [7MDE] for INFINITIVE MODE (see Chapter Three).
We can link the differences between the preposition and the infinitive marker to the presence of this
feature in the latter, and the similarities between the two to all the other features they share, e.g.,
[–VBL, –NML, +OPH, –OCL].
The second important aspect of the representations in (36) is that the embedded V3 in (36b) lacks
both a subject and a tense. As we have seen, the impossibility of a V3 mode characterizer in all
verbal adjectives and verbal nouns is explained by the OAC (Chapter Three, Page 186), a
morphological universal which prevents a word from being marked with more than one grammatical
affix from the same class, e.g., *wents, *to went, *biggerest, *mens, etc. Since verbal adjectives and
verbal nouns must lack a V3 mode characterizer, they must lack local subjects. In English, the verb
that is marked for a finite tense is also marked for agreement, and agreement requires a local
subject.9 Thus, there is no V3 mode characterizer or local subject in the embedded V3 above, and
can’t be. As a result, all verbal adjectives and verbal nouns in English are not marked for agreement.
Further, this is the basis for the fact that infinitives and gerunds can have arbitrary subject
interpretation whereas tensed verbs cannot, a very important point which seems to have gone
unnoticed.
Verbal adjectives (participles) are modifiers; as such, they are X2 Level residents which modify
some specific head, usually a noun (the man working; the sleeping baby). When infinitives function
as modifiers (the man to do the job), they also modify some specific head, so that their
interpretation is not free; rather, their subjects are identified by C–command relationships, as we
have seen. The same structural constraints apply in cases like John wants Bill to sing and John
hates Bill’s singing, where Bill is the subject of sing because it immediately C–commands and
precedes sing. On the other hand, when infinitives and gerunds are in positions with no
C–commanding subject, they must have arbitrary subject interpretation (It is fun to sing; Singing
pleases me). Such arbitrary interpretation is possible in the first place because verbals cannot have
local subjects; their subjects must be identified by the structural configurations of the sentences in
which they occur. These important facts are completely obscured by an analysis of verbals which
480 Chapter Seven
gives them local subjects in the form of PRO or some other empty element.
Additionally, theories that contain PRO as a stand–in for the “missing” subject of verbals distort the
syntax in a number of ways. It is not surprising, therefore, that everywhere that PRO occurs it must
be treated as exceptional. Indeed, PRO is a noun phrase with none of the characteristics of a noun
phrase:
(47) a. PRO can occur only in an ungoverned position, unlike ordinary noun phrases which
must occur in a governed position whether or not they are overt.
b. PRO lacks case unlike ordinary noun phrases.
c. PRO can occur where ordinary noun phrases cannot occur:
1. John will persuade Harry PRO to examine Mary.

2. *John will persuade Harry Bob to examine Mary.
d. When PRO occurs where an ordinary noun phrase can occur, it must be treated as
exceptional:
1. John wants him to win.

2. John wants PRO to win.
e. PRO is invisible to rules of contraction unlike ordinary noun phrases even when they
are empty:
1. Does John want him to win.

*Does John wanna him win?
2. Who does John want [e] to win the race?

*Who does John wanna win the race?
3. Does John want PRO to go

Does John wanna go?
f. Although PRO has no phonological content and is invisible, movement rules can see
it, because it must be moved to different positions in the derivation of some
sentences:
1. John wants [ [e] to grow [ Sue to be famous]]

John wants Sue to grow to be famous.
2. John wants [ [e] to grow [ PRO to be famous]]

John wants PRO to grow to be famous.
Chapter Seven 481
In addition, PRO is unlike all other phonologically null elements. Generally, such elements either
refer to some specific phrase elsewhere in the sentence such as [e], or to a highly constrained
elliptical morpheme such as the [u] in imperatives. But PRO can do both: it can refer to a specific
intrasentential phrase as it does in (47) or to an arbitrary or semi–arbitrary phrase as in the
following:
(48) a. It is beneficial (to everyone) to exercise.

b. It is beneficial (to women) to have a mammogram.
c. It is beneficial (to men) to have a prostate exam.
d. It is beneficial (to babies, mostly) to be burped after breast feeding.
Note that the features that must be assigned to PRO vary considerably:
(49) a. Shaving myself is a pain.

b. Shaving yourself must be a pain.
c. Shaving each other made the men laugh.
Given all the above, we ought to ask the following simple question: If PRO has none of the
characteristics of a noun phrase and, as an empty category, is unusual, what prompts a child to
construct analyses that contain it? Clearly, saying that PRO is part of the child’s genetic endowment
is not revealing.
One might argue that including PRO in structural representations allows us to reduce all embedded
predicates to one underlying representation, a generalization we might state as (50).
(50) All verbal complements are full clauses in deep structure, i.e., they have local subjects.
If we remove PRO from the theoretical apparatus, then we must give up this generalization. Let us
therefore consider what (50) means. The first thing to note is that the availability of PRO does not
help us to determine what the “missing subject” of a verb is. Consider the following classic
examples:
(51) a. John appeared to Bill to be careful. (John is careful)

b. John appealed to Bill to be careful. (Bill is careful)
(52) a. John might want Bill to go. (Bill will go)

b. John might want to go. (John will go)
(53) a. John promised Bill to go. (John will go)

b. John expected Bill to go. (Bill will go)
c. John persuaded Bill to go. (Bill will go)
(54) a. It is important to go to college. (subject of go is arbitrary)

b. It is unclear what to do. (subject of do is arbitrary)
482 Chapter Seven
Determining the “missing” subject in examples like those above is not a trivial matter, any more than
determining what the head of a noun phrase is. Further, putting PRO into a representation does not
address the problem: identifying the “missing” subject requires a theory of control. Yet, a theory
of control in itself does not require the actual presence of PRO in structural representations.
Second, the presence of PRO in representations does not help to organize the often bewildering array
of complement types that occur with various verbs; in fact, it complicates the matter:
(55) a. John hoped (that) Mary would dance.

b. John preferred that Mary dance.
c. John whispered that Mary would dance.
d. John yearned (for Mary) to dance.
e. John relied on Mary to dance.
f. John wanted (Mary) to dance.
g. John tried to dance.
h. John spoke of Mary’s dancing.
i. John liked Mary’s dancing.
j. John started dancing.
k. John entered dancing.
Placing PRO in any of the examples in (55) reveals nothing about the constructional variations that
occur after predicates.
Given the above concerns, suppose that we abandon (50) and replace it with the following
definitions and condition:
(56) Definition of a Clause (finite V3) and Clause–mates.
a. A clause is a functional unit of syntax consisting minimally of two elements:
1. A V0 head which is [+VBL, –NML].

2. A characterizer marked for MODE (INDICATIVE, SUBJUNCTIVE,
IMPERATIVE, etc.)
b. All phrases C–commanded by one and the same mode characterizer are
clause–mates.
(57) The Argument Predicate Condition (APC).
The arguments A1, A2, ...An of a verb V0i must be clause–mates.
Given the functional definition of clause in (56), the subject of any arbitrary predicate need not be
in a separate syntactic unit with that predicate; however, it must be in the same finite clause as that
predicate. In short, we can use the principles in (15), which refer to linear and hierarchical structure
Chapter Seven 483
together with (57), to determine subjects and objects, including “missing subjects.” This analysis
has several important advantages. First, it eliminates PRO and PROarb from linguistic theory,
thereby eliminating the need to explain why those empty noun phrases have none of the
characteristics of noun phrases whereas all other empty noun phrases do.10 Second, it explains why
infinitives cannot have tense in languages like English. Third, it explains why verbals can have
arbitrary subject interpretation and exactly under what conditions that is possible, namely, when
there is no C–commanding noun phrase within the same finite clause. Lastly, the determination of
all grammatical functions like subject, object, modifier, etc. is everywhere a result of syntactic
architecture.
7.2.3 CONTROL THEORY, STRUCTURE AND INTERPRETATION.
The principle in (15a) specifies the unmarked cases for determining “missing subjects.” Given the
above structure for infinitives and the APC we account for the following classic examples:
(58) a. John appeared to Bill to be careful.

[V3 [N3 John] PST [V2 [V1 [V0 appear] [C3 to Bill]] [C3 to be careful] ]]
b. John appealed to Bill to be careful.

[V3 [N3 John] PST [V1 [V0 appeal] [C3 to Bill [C3 to be careful] ] ]]
In (58a), John immediately precedes and C–commands both appear and be so it is the subject of
both verbs; in (58b), John immediately precedes and C–commands appeal so it is the subject of
appeal; Bill immediately precedes and C–commands be so it is the subject of be.
The structures in (58) require justification. Notice first that “[C3 to Bill]” in (58a), but not (58b), is
optional indicating its independence from the following infinitive:
(59) a. John appeared (to be) careful.

b. *John appealed (to be) careful.
Hence, careful resides in predicate nominative position (off V2) in (58a). For this reason, we have
the following, which derive from the agreement characteristics of predicate nominatives:
(60) a. Mary appeared to John to get pregnant immaculately.

b. *Mary appealed to John to get pregnant immaculately.
Second, observe that the preposition to can be stranded in (58b), but not (58a):
(61) a. *It was Billi that John appeared to [e]i to be careful.

b. It was Billi that John appealed to [e]i to be careful.
484 Chapter Seven
In addition to classic examples like the above, we can account for an even broader range of facts if
we extend (56) and (57) to include N3 as follows:
(62) Definition of a Neighborhood.
a. A neighborhood is a functional unit of syntax consisting minimally of two elements:
1. A V0 or N0 head (["NML, –"VBL]).

2. A MODE or DETERMINER or POSSESSIVE, i.e., an X3 level prehead
characterizer.
b. All phrases C–commanded by one and the same MODE or DETERMINER or

POSSESSIVE are in the same neighborhood.
(63) The Argument Head Condition (AHC).
The arguments A1, A2, ...An of a verb V0i or noun N0i must be in the same neighborhood.
With this natural extension, we can account for the triply ambiguous participial and infinitival
phrases in the (64) and (65). In the a–readings, the verbals are inside the direct object noun phrase
(the girl) as in The girl to impress his mother is over there; thus, the girl is the subject of the verbal
which is a modifier (off N2). In the b–readings, the subject of the verbals is the direct object itself,
the girl; in the c–readings, the subject of the verbals is the main subject of the sentence, Ed.11
(64) Ed saw the girl walking toward the station.
a. [V3 Ed PST [V1 [V0 see] [N3 the [N2 [N0 girl] [C3 walking toward the station] ]] ]]
b. [V3 Ed PST [V1 [V0 see] [N3 the [N0 girl]] [C3 walking toward the station] ]]
c. [V3 Ed PST [V2 [V1 [V0 see] [N3 the [N0 girl]]] [C3 walking toward the station] ]]
(65) Ed wants the girl to impress his mother.
a. [V3 Ed PRS [V1 [V0 want] [N3 the [N2[N0 girl] [C3 to impress his mother] ]] ]]
b. [V3 Ed PRS [V1 [V0 want] [N3 the [N0 girl]] [C3 to impress his mother] ]]
c. [V3 Ed PRS [V2 [V1 [V0 want] [N3 the [N0 girl]]] [C3 to impress his mother] ]]
Let us now consider again the following examples which have a long history in generative syntax
(see, especially, Chomsky 1965: 22 ff.):
(66) a. I persuaded a specialist to examine John.

b. I persuaded John to be examined by a specialist.
(67) a. I expected a specialist to examine John.

b. I expected John to be examined by a specialist.
Chapter Seven 485
The two sentences in (66) are not synonymous, whereas the two sentences in (67) very nearly are.
Since the present model assigns identical structural representations to (66a) and (67a) on the one
hand, and to (66b) and (67b) on the other, we need to explain the difference. Toward that end,
consider first the lexical entry for persuade which includes the following information:12
(68) PERSUADE–1
a. (IGR (EFC INTENTION–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
b. EFC_EFR
c. ASC
d. AFR
Given the redundancy regarding the placement of infinitives in SCOMP position (see Endnote 5),
we need not mark the AFR as N3 (I persuaded him to go, not *I persuaded to go to him). Observe
that in persuade, a verb with GOAL ORIENTATION, the AFR is the AFC. Persuade (both
meanings) entails a FORM–2 change in the AFR_AFC.
The lexical entry for expect is as follows:
(69) EXPECT–1
a. (IGR (EFC EXPECTATION–1 AFC) (EFR ASC AFR))
b. EFC_AFR
c. ASC
d. EFR
Note that expect, unlike persuade, has SOURCE ORIENTATION:
(70) a. I expected a package from John.

b. I expected an apology from John.
c. I expected John to apologize.
Recall that subjects which are EFC_AFR (both AGENT and RECIPIENT) are the primary AFC
(AFFECTED entity or EXPERIENCER), a principled variation first discussed in Chapter Two,
Section 2.6 (see Page 95) and repeated here for convenience:
or SCOMP1).
Since the subject of the verb expect is the primary AFC, the pair of sentences in (67) is synonymous.
On the other hand, since the primary AFC in persuade is the AFR appearing in PCOMP position,
the pair in (66), which vary the AFR (and therefore the AFC), are not synonymous. Thus, one of
the classic arguments for various rules like EQUI–NP DELETION or SUBJECT RAISING falls into
place once the semantics is considered, in particular, the thematic relations involved.
486 Chapter Seven
In support of the above analysis, observe that the case of the object of verbs like persuade and expect
also varies in languages like Latin, the dative being used for the person affected (AFC). We have
Suadeo eis (dative) ire ‘I persuade them to go’ (literally, ‘I make going pleasant to them’) versus
Exspecto eos (accusative) ire ‘I expect them to go’ (see Woodcock 1959: 104 for discussion).
Notice further that, in the unmarked cases, control can be determined solely by structural
configurations. In the case of persuade and expect, for example, it does not matter that persuade
has an EFC_EFR SUBJECT and an AFR PCOMP, while expect has an EFC_AFR SUBJECT and
an EFR PCOMP. Such differences contribute to meaning as we have just seen, but not to
determining control. Other differences seem equally irrelevant. For example, the verb persuade
belongs to the class of verbs which govern a V3 that is an indirect command. This is a mixed class
of verbs with several subgroups, e.g., verbs of ordering (command, urge, etc.), verbs of entreating
(beg, beseech, etc.), and so on:13
(72) Indirect Commands.

a. I told *(him) to go/I told *(him) that he should go.
b. I ordered/persuaded *(him) to go.
On the other hand, the verb of expect belongs to the class of verbs which govern a V3 that is an
indirect wish (cf. the use of the subjunctive/optative mood in Indo–European). Other verbs in this
class include hope, want, need, plan, etc.:
(73) Indirect Wishes.

a. I expect/want an apology from him.
b. I expect/want (him) to apologize.
Since both persuade and expect exhibit object control, we see that, in the unmarked cases, the nature
of the embedded infinitival V3 (indirect command or indirect wish) is also irrelevant to control. On
the other hand, matters are not so clear in the following equally famous pair:
(74) a. I told John what to do.

b. I asked John what to do.
As we have just seen, the embedded V3 with tell in (72a) is an indirect command.14 On the other
hand, the verbs tell and ask in (74) belong to the class of verbs which govern a V3 that is an indirect
question. Included in that class are learn, forget, remember, discover, realize, and so on:
(75) Indirect Questions.

a. I learned how to do linguistics from Chomsky.
b. I asked to be allowed to go./I asked (him) what to do.
Examining a representative sample of infinitives that are embedded indirect questions, we find that
they all have object control except ask:
Chapter Seven 487
(76) a. She asked him how to solve the problem.
b. She advised him on what to wear.
c. Please remind me where to meet you after lunch. (from Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 1215)
The one thing that separates ask from all the other verbs taking infinitival indirect questions is that
its subject is EFC_AFR, a specification that reverses the action chain. In most predicates, the action
chain originates in the subject; however, there are predicates in which the action chain terminates
in the subject. In all such cases, as we have seen, a precise specification of this reversal explains
behavior that must otherwise be considered exceptional. Therefore, suppose that we attribute
subject control in ask to the fact that it reverses the action chain and introduces an indirect question.
This seems reasonable: in reversing the action chain, one would expect that the subject of ask would
also be the subject of an infinitival question governed by ask.
Before we attempt to offer any generalizations, let us consider the two remaining types of embedded
V3, namely, indirect statements and indirect pledges:15
(77) Indirect Statements.

a. I told/convinced/informed her that he had gone.
b. I reported/admitted/explained to her that he had gone.
c. I believe/know him to be an honest man.
d. *I believe/know him to go (to the movies)/to watch TV.
(78) Indirect Pledges.

a. I vowed/pledged/swore to him that I would go.
b. I promised (him) to go/that I would go.
c. I vowed/pledged/swore (*him) to go.
If we chart all of the above data regarding different types of embedded V3, we have the classes in
Figure Ten. Notice that there are only two “exceptions” to the C–command relations in (15): ask
as in I asked him what to do, for which we suggested an account above, and promise as in I promised
him to finish. Both have INF2 with subject control. Basically, we have two options regarding
promise when it is followed by an INF2 structure: consider this use of promise an exception, which
it may well be given its marginal status for many speakers, or connect its peculiarity to the fact that
it is the only verb expressing an indirect pledge that allows an overt PCOMP before the infinitive.
Let us assume the latter.
In summary, it appears that we can dispense with an independent theory of control and derive
control from the C–command relation in (15a) and the thematic relations specified for individual
verbs in Figure Ten. Generally, C–command covers most uses; however, other factors can reverse
the expected (unmarked) specification of control. That semantics (and more) plays a large role in
control is clear from such pairs as He asked her to go and He asked her to be allowed to go, for
which some speakers get either subject or object control, while other speakers (myself included)
only get object control in the former and subject control in the latter (cf. He asked her to become a
stewardess/steward and He asked her to be allowed to become a stewardess/steward).
488 Chapter Seven
FIGURE TEN: EMBEDDED V3

EXAMPLE SUBJECT PCOMP SCOMP CONTROL
THEME X3 V3 TYPE STRUCTURE
I persuaded/ordered EFC_EFR AFR N3 Indirect INF2 Object

*(him) to go. Command
I told *(him) to go. EFC_EFR AFR N3 Indirect INF2 Object

Command
I expect/want to win. EFC_AFR EFR O N3 Indirect INF1 Subject

Wish
I expect/want him to EFC_AFR EFR O N3 Indirect INF2 Object

win. Wish
I told *(him) what to do. EFC_EFR AFR N3 Indirect INF2 Object

Question
I asked what to do. EFC_AFR EFR N3 Indirect INF1 Subject

Question
I asked him what to do. EFC_AFR EFR N3 Indirect INF2 Subject

Question
I told *(her) that he had EFC_EFR AFR N3 Indirect THAT1 Not relevant
gone. Statement
I persuaded *(her) that EFC_EFR AFR N3 Indirect THAT2 Not relevant

he had gone. Statement
I admitted/reported (to EFC_EFR AFR C3 Indirect THAT1 Not relevant

her) that I was wrong. Statement
I believe/know *(him) to EFC_AFR IPS_APS N3 Indirect INF2 Object

be honest. Statement
I vowed/swore (to him) EFC_EFR AFR O C3 Indirect THAT1 Not relevant

that I had finished. Pledge
I promised (him) that I EFC_EFR AFR N3 Indirect THAT1 Not relevant

had finished. Pledge
I promised (myself) that EFC_EFR AFR O N3 Indirect THAT4 Not relevant

I would finish. Pledge
I vowed (*him/*myself) EFC_EFR U U Indirect INF1 Subject

to finish. Pledge
I promised to finish. EFC_EFR AFR O N3 Indirect INF1 Subject

Pledge
I promised him/myself EFC_EFR AFR O N3 Indirect INF2 Subject

to finish. Pledge
7.3 NOMINALIZATIONS.
Chapter Seven 489
In this section, we will consider those constructions which played a great part in launching X–bar
syntax (Chomsky, 1970; Jackendoff, 1977), in particular, nominalizations of various types. The
discussion has three parts. First, we will examine the internal structure of noun phrases in more
detail than we have previously, focusing on the elements POS and of. Second, we will consider the
double possessive construction which has much in common with gerundial nominals (gerunds).
Lastly, we turn our attention directly to gerundial and derived nominals.16
7.3.1 THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF NOUN PHRASES.
In the preceding section and in Chapter Three, Section 3.1, we saw that the usual residence for POS,
the English possessive suffix, is prehead position on the X3 level, the position of determiners as
follows (see Page 156 and Endnote 11 in Chapter Three):17
(79) a. all the money

[N3 [N3 all] [C3 the] [N0 money] ]
b. Bill’s money
[N3 [N0 Bill] POS [N0 money]]
c. the boy’s money

[N3 [N3 the boy] POS [N0 money]]
d. all/both the man’s children (all/both quantify children)

[N3 [N3 all/both] [N3 [N3 the man] POS [N0 children]]]
e. all/both the men’s money (all/both quantify men)

[N3 [N3 all/both the men] POS [N0 money]]
f. all/*both the man’s money (all quantifies money)

[N3 [N3 all/*both] [N3 [N3 the man] POS [N0 money]]]
As we saw, English does not permit both a POS and a DET in prehead position:
(80) a. *my that book/*that my book

b. that book of mine
To account for the above, we argued that POS is in complementary distribution to determiners. In
particular, determiners can be preceded by quantifiers but POS can’t:
490 Chapter Seven
(81) CATEGORIES EXAMPLE STRUCTURE
a. Nonquantifier + POS John’s toys [N3 [N3 John] [C3 POS] [N0 toys] ]
b. Nonquantifier + DET *John the toys *[N3 [N3 John] [C3 the] [N0 toys] ]
c. Quantifier + POS *all’s toys *[N3 [N3 all] [C3 POS] [N0 toys] ]
d. Quantifier + DET all the toys [N3 [N3 all] [C3 the] [N0 toys] ]
Further, we argued that POS must be a separate element which cliticizes to an entire preceding N3.
This is necessary to account for the following:
(82) a. the man that Sue is going to marry’s mother

*the man that Sue’s is going to marry mother
[the man that Sue is going to marry] POS mother
b. the man with the beard’s mother

*the man’s with the beard mother
[the man with the beard] POS mother
c. the man standing over there’s mother

*the man’s standing over there mother
[the man standing over there] POS mother
d. the man present at noon’s mother

*the man’s present at noon mother
[the man present at noon] POS mother
In posthead position of noun phrases, we find three separate elements introduced by the preposition
of. In N1 posthead position, reside the complements of noun heads:
(83) a. a teacher of braille (cf. teach braille)

b. the destruction of the city (cf. destroy the city)
c. those stories/descriptions of war (cf. describe war)
In N2 posthead position resides the genitive of quality, a modifier construction:
(84) a. a man of courage (cf. a courageous man)

b. a bouquet of flowers (cf. a floral bouquet)
c. stories of remarkable originality (cf. those remarkably original stories)
In N2 posthead position resides also the double possessive construction, so called because of the
presence of both POS and of:
Chapter Seven 491
(85) a. a friend of mine
b. a friend of Bill’s
c. those stories of Hemingway’s
When all three posthead of–phrases occur, the order is predicted by the level assignments we have
given them, paralleling in mirror image the examples of the postposition –no in Japanese which we
presented on Page 160:18
(86) a. those stories of war of remarkable originality of Hemingway’s

b. *those stories of Hemingway’s of remarkable originality of war
c. *those stories of Hemingway’s of war of remarkable originality
d. those stories of war of Hemingway’s of remarkable originality
e. *those stories of remarkable originality of Hemingway’s of war
f. *those stories of remarkable originality of war of Hemingway’s
In our discussion of the English Noun Phrase Condition (NPC) in Chapter Three (Section 3.2, Page
180 ff.), we argued that posthead elements in noun phrases must be separated from the head of the
noun phrase by an overt characterizer, generally a preposition. We argued that this was necessary
to help speakers locate the head of the N3, which is necessary for agreement and pronominal
reference:
(87) a. [N3 his [N1 hopes for peace]] are unrealistic.

b. [N3 that [N2 woman near those three men]] says that she will go.
When a noun head is not subcategorized for a particular characterizer (hope is subcategorized for
for) or not modified by a phrase with a specific preposition (the woman near the men), then the
preposition of must occur as in (83), (84), and (85). The exact status of this of is debatable. If it is
a full preposition, that is, the head of a prepositional phrase, then we have structures like the
following:
(88) a. [N3 [N1 [N0 the teacher] [C3 [C1 [C0 of] [N3 Ø braille]]] ]]
b. [N3 [N2 [N0 the man] [C3 [C1 [C0 of] [N3 Ø courage]]] ]]
c. [N3 [N2 [N0 the friend] [C3 [C1 [C0 of] [N3 John’s]]] ]]
These structures parallel others with posthead prepositional phrases:
(89) a. [N3 [N1 [N0 the speech] [C3 [C1 [C0 about] [N3 Ø drugs]]] ]]
b. [N3 [N1 [N0 the journey] [C3 [C1 [C0 down] [N3 the Nile]]] ]]
c. [N3 [N2 [N0 the man] [C3 [C1 [C0 without] [N3 Ø scruples]]] ]]
d. [N3 [N2 [N0 the teacher] [C3 [C1 [C0 from] [N3 France]]] ]]
On the other hand, if of simply marks the head of the entire phrase and does not form a separate
constituent with the N3 after it, then we might propose the following structures, in which case of is
inserted by a phonological rule in accordance with the NPC:
492 Chapter Seven
(90) a. [N3 [N1 [N0 the teacher] of [N3 Ø braille] ]]
b. [N3 [N2 [N0 the man] of [N3 Ø courage] ]]
c. [N3 [N2 [N0 the friend] of [N3 John’s] ]]
The clearest and most consistent diagnostic for determining between (88) and (90) involves
relativization.19 All examples like (89), which contain a preposition other than of, freely allow the
prepositional phrase to be in a separate constituent from the N3, which is necessary if the N3 is to
be relativized (cf. *the speech that about drugs was given). Further, the placement of adverbials
clearly indicates that the prepositional phrase is inside the relative clause:
(91) a. the speech that they listened to about drugs (so attentively)
b. the journey that they planned down the Nile (so joyfully)
c. the man that they interviewed without scruples (so trustingly)
d. the teacher that they hired from France (so confidently)
In addition to the above, the double possessive construction can also be separated from the noun it
modifies so the N3 can be relativized (cf. *the friend that of John’s was interviewed):
(92) a. the friend that they interviewed of John’s (so gladly)

b. the story that they read of Hemingway’s (so anxiously)
On the other hand, neither an N1 complement or an N2 genitive of quality can be separated from the
N3 to allow relativization (cf. *the teacher that of braille was hired):
(93) a. *the teacher that they hired of braille (so confidently)

b. *the destruction that they photographed of the city (so nervously)
c. *the man that they interviewed of courage (so happily)
d. *the bouquet that they bought of flowers (so cheerfully)
(94) a. the teacher of braille that they hired (so confidently)

b. the destruction of the city that they photographed (so nervously)
c. the man of courage that they interviewed (so happily)
d. the bouquet of flowers that they bought (so cheerfully)
These data suggest that the correct structure for the double possessive construction is (88c), where
the sequence of–N3 forms a full prepositional phrase with of expressing possessive meaning,
whereas the correct structures for N1 complements and N2 genitives of quality are (90a) and (90b),
respectively, where the primary function of of is to separate a head N0 from a following N3.
Accordingly, let us say that the grammar contains a phonological rule which inserts of into (95a) to
give (95b):
(95) a. [N3 N0 – N3 ]
b. [N3 N0 – of – N3 ]
Chapter Seven 493
As indicated in the NPC, we also find of between most quantifiers and determiners. The relevant
data are as follows:20
(96) a. some/enough/more *(of) the/those/these men

b. some/enough/more *(of) Caesar’s men
c. some/enough/more *(of) his men
d. some/enough/more (*of) Ø men
(97) a. all/both/half (of) the/those/these men

b. all/both/half (of) Caesar’s men
c. all/both/half (of) his men
d. all/both/half (*of) Ø men
All of the quantifier phrases in (96) refer to an indefinite part of a whole. Some of his men, for
example, means ‘some partial number of his men’; enough of the men means ‘some sufficient
number of the men’; and so on. The quantifiers in (97), on the other hand, do not refer to an
indefinite part of a whole; all (of) the men means ‘the entire number of the men’; similarly, half (of)
the men and both (of) the men also refer to a definite number of the men. The correct generalization
regarding (96) and (97), therefore, seems to be (98).
(98) An indefinite partitive quantifier must be separated from an overt determiner or N3 by the
word of.
Assuming that (98) is correct, the next question concerns the categorial status of quantifiers. If we
say that they are a type of determiner, then we must say they are [–NML], that is, have non–inherent
number. On the other hand, if we say they are nouns, then we must say they are [+NML], that is,
have inherent number. In our discussion of the categorial status of determiners, we concluded that
determiners have non–inherent, concordant number because they never occur independently. Even
when it appears that they stand alone, some noun is always understood ([u]). Quantifiers appear to
behave similarly:
(99) a. He has some [u].

b. He has enough [u].
c. He has more [u] than Bill.
d. He has all [u] that he wants. (all = every thing)
However, the same quantifiers can be used without nouns in constructions where it seems
inappropriate to assume an understood element. For example, they can all be used as part of a verb
phrase to express frequency of repetition or amount of change or effort.
(100) a. He still sings some, though he has officially retired.

b. He doesn’t play (often) enough.
c. He drives to work more than Bill.
d. He drinks all too often.
494 Chapter Seven
(101) a. The weather has improved some but not as much as I would like.
b. He never works (hard) enough
c. He succeeded more than I expected him to.
d. He never drinks all that much (*wine).
While one might argue plausibly that some in (100a) is “some [u]” ([u] = times) and that, as a result,
some has concordant number, the argument cannot be extended to often enough in (100b), all in
(100d) or any of the examples in (101). Still, note that the quantifiers impart some sort of numerical
interpretation to the sentences, specifically, in terms of the number of times the incidents occur, or
the amount of accomplishment or effort over successive intervals. When incidents cannot be
repeated or increase over time, the appearance of these quantifiers renders the sentences very strange
so that some kind of special interpretation is required:
(102) a. Bell invented the telephone some.

b. The baby has been born enough.
c. Columbus discovered America more often than the Vikings.
d. The president was assassinated all too often.
Furthermore, given (100), it is impossible to analyze quantifiers as a subclass of determiners since

determiners never occur in analogous constructions. My conclusion, therefore, is that quantifiers
are nominals with inherent number. Their appearance, either inside of N3 as in (99) or as part of
a verb phrase as in (100) or (101), is subject to co–occurrence restrictions. Inside of N3, some
quantifiers can co–occur with plural count nouns or singular mass nouns (some/enough/more men;
some/enough/more butter); others are inherently plural (many men/*many butter) or inherently
singular (*much men/much butter). Inside of V3, quantifiers have a frequentative meaning; in this
use, they are restricted to propositions which allow frequency of repetition. Note that a sentence like
He worked too much this morning, although it stresses the amount of work in a relatively short
period of time, still entails successive instances of working. The not so startling conclusion is that,
in order to use a quantifier, one must be dealing with something that can be quantified. Hence, there
are no quantifiers in English for singular count nouns like pen or student (*more pen/*much student;
in some pen/student, some is indefinite and not quantificational). This fact parallels the absence of
quantifiers in verb phrases that express one time activities.
To complete the above analysis, we would need another phonological rule for the insertion of of,
specifically, one which inserts of between partitive quantifiers and overt determiner, turning (103a)
into (103b).
(103) a. [N3 N3 – C3 – N0 ]
b. [N3 N3 – of – C3 – N0 ]
On the other hand, we can simplify the above description if we combine the analyses in (103) with
those in (95), that is, suppose we say that partitive quantifiers followed by a definite determiner must
specify a [u] and be analyzed as follows, where QUANT is a quantifier and DET is an overt
determiner (see Jackendoff 1977: Chapter 5 for a similar analysis):
Chapter Seven 495
(104) [N3 [N3 QUANT] [N2 [N0 u] – of – [N3 N3 DET [N0 HEAD ] ] ]
all [u] of the men

all [u] of Caesar POS men
some [u] of the men
some [u] of Caesar POS men
Alongside of such structures, we have DET–[u] sequences as follows:
(105) [N3 [C3 DET] [N2 [N0 u] – of – [N3 N3 DET [N0 HEAD ] ] ]
those [u] of the men

those [u] of Caesar POS men
Notice that the structure above parallel (90b), not (88b). We have no examples like *some that I met
of the men so gladly or *those that I met of the men so gladly, indicating that the of is not part of a
prepositional phrase.
Lastly, we have simple noun phrases not containing partitives like the following:
(106) [N3 [N3 QUANT] [C3 DET] [N0 HEAD ] ]
Ø men
the men
all Ø men
all the men
Caesar POS men
some Ø men
There are several advantages to the above simplification. First, partitive constructions (those with
obligatory of) are now clearly distinguished from nonpartitive constructions (those without of).
Second, the grammar is simplified by eliminating (103); there is only one process dealing with the
insertion of of, namely (95), which inserts of whenever a noun head is directly followed by a noun
phrase, whether we have a partitive, a genitive of quality, or a noun complement. In turn, this
simplifies parsing: when a parser comes across of in an arbitrary string of words, the only structure
it must consider among those mentioned directly above is (104/105); (103b) is not a possibility.
Interestingly, the above simplification may reveal why English has the Partitive Constraint
(Jackendoff 1977:120): “[T]he specifier of the NP after of must contain a demonstrative [the,
this/these, that/those] or genitive” (cf. (98)). First, notice that some partitives with a demonstrative
or genitive are not acceptable, in particular, those where the head of the NP after of is a singular
count noun: *all/some of that man versus all/some of that wine and all/some of those men, etc. Such
phrases can be ruled out by noting that the partitive specifies an amount or number of a larger whole;
therefore, the larger whole necessarily involves either a mass noun or a plural count noun.
496 Chapter Seven
Still, we are left with accounting for the ungrammaticality of phrases like *all/some of wine and
*all/some of men, where the phrase specifying the whole has an appropriate mass noun or plural
count noun head. If we enlarge the corpus of examples to include numerals (NUM) and measure
phrases, we have the following structures:
(107) QUANT DET NUM [u] of (N3) DET HEAD
a. all/some Ø [u] of the men/wine

Ø six [u] of the men/jugs of wine
b. all/some Ø [u] of Caesar POS men/wine
Ø six [u] of Caesar POS men/jugs of wine
c. *all/some Ø [u] of Ø men/wine
*Ø six [u] of Ø men/jugs of wine
(108) QUANT DET NUM [u] of (N3) DET HEAD
a. all Ø six legions of the men

all Ø six jugs of the wine
b. all Ø six legions of Caesar POS men
all Ø six jugs of Caesar POS wine
c. all Ø six legions of Ø men
all Ø six jugs of Ø wine
d. twice the number of Ø objections
those two hours of Ø rest
Given the above sets of data, we can account for the ungrammaticality of (107c) in terms of phrase
structure alone: of cannot be inserted between two empty elements. At least one of the two
elements on either side of the insertion point must be overt; in particular, Ø is possible in any phrase
after of only if the preceding noun is fully specified as in (108c) and (108d). It would appear that
the constraint is cognitive in origin: an inserted element must anchor to an overt constituent.
7.3.2 THE DOUBLE POSSESSIVE CONSTRUCTION.
One of the most tightly constrained constructions in English is the double possessive, so named, as
we indicated above, because of the presence of both of and the possessive suffix POS. Consider
(109) and (110).
(109) a. Bills’ friend

b. a friend of Bill’s
(110) a. that doctor’s patient

b. a patient of that doctor’s
Chapter Seven 497
Unlike prehead possessives (cf. (82)), the head noun in the double possessive construction cannot
have any of the usual postnominal adjuncts. Consider (111).
(111) a. *(I know) the mother of the man that Sue is going to marry’s
b. *(I know) the mother of the man with the beard’s
c. *(I know) the mother of the man standing over there’s
d. *(I know) the mother of the man present at noon’s
On the other hand, observe that we do have very similar examples like the following where POS is
in prehead position:
(112) a. the mother of [N3 [N3 the man ] POS [N0 friend]]]
b. the mother of [N3 [N3 the man that Sue is going to marry ] POS [N0 friend]]]
c. the mother of [N3 [N3 the man with the beard ] POS [N0 friend]]]
d. the mother of [N3 [N3 the man standing over there ] POS [N0 friend]]]
e. the mother of [N3 [N3 the man present at noon ] POS [N0 friend]]]
The infelicity of (111) suggests the presence of some element which totally blocks posthead
modification. I propose that that element is the case marker POS, occupying posthead position on
the X3 level of such noun phrases affixed directly to the head noun.
If we assume that POS occurs in posthead position in the double possessive construction, then the
structures associated with the noun phrases in (113) would be as indicated.21
(113) a. a friend of Bill’s

[N3 [C3 [C0 a]] [N2 [N0 friend] [C3 [C0 of]] [N3 [N0 Bill] POS]]]
b. that meddlesome teacher of Mary’s child’s

[N3 [C3 [C0 that]] [N2 [C3 meddlesome] [N0 teacher]] [C3 [C0 of]]
[N3 [N3 Mary] POS [N0 child] POS]]
If POS occurs in prehead position as in (79) and (82), it is a separate constituent following the entire
preceding N3 which is the possessor. In such a configuration, there is no reason for a prehead
possessor to be constrained from containing its own posthead elements. If, on the other hand, POS
occurs in posthead position, as it does in both structures of (113), then POS is inside of the noun
phrase which is the possessor, i.e., Bill in (113a) and child in (113b). In such a configuration, POS
must, presumably, be attached directly to the head of the phrase, ruling out (111).22
In short, there is an important configurational difference between (79) and (113). As we saw in
Chapter Two, there are many cases where items can occur in either prehead or posthead position,
such as available books versus books available or enough pudding versus pudding enough. Given
the above analysis, POS simply happens to be a special case of such alternations.
498 Chapter Seven
In support of this analysis, notice that the double possessive construction cannot contain plural
nouns. Compare (114) and (115).
(114) a. the children’s mother

[the children] POS mother
b. the women’s mother

[the women] POS mother
c. the boys’ mother
[the boys] POS mother
(115) a. *(I know) the mother of the children’s

b. *(I know) the mother of the women’s
c. *(I know) the mother of the boys’ (cf. the mother of the boy’s; the mother of the
boys)
I have purposely chosen irregular nouns in the examples above since it is not immediately clear
which of the interpretations in (116) is appropriate for a phrase like (117).
(116) a. a friend of the boy’s

b. a friend of the boys’
c. a friend of the boys
(117) a friend of the [b]yz]
The problem is that the marker for plural is the same as the marker for possessive in English. We
may, in fact, attribute the impossibility of plurals in double possessives to an apparent violation of
the OAC (The One Affix Condition; see Page 186). When POS occurs in prehead position in
English it follows the entire possessor N3, as we have seen:
(118) a. the child (on the playground) POS mother

b. the children (on the playground) POS mother
(119) a. the boy (on the playground) POS mother

b. the boys (on the playground) POS mothers
However, when POS occurs in posthead position it is attached directly to the head noun. The
homophony between the plural and possessive suffixes thus makes it appear as though the head is
marked twice for number in violation of the OAC:
(120) *the mother of the [menz]
Thus, I would argue that (116b) is not a possible interpretation for (117). Note that both the mother
Chapter Seven 499
of the man and the mother of the men are fine.
With remarkable consistency, the double possessive also cannot contain quantificational nouns
which normally reside in X3 level prehead position:
(121) a. *the mother of all of the children’s

b. *the mother of a bunch of the men’s
c. *the mother of all those boys’ (cf. the mother of all those boys)
The explanation for these ungrammatical phrases is that nouns such as all and bunch require plural
number (or, irrelevant here, a mass noun), but, as we have just observed (cf. (115)), the double
possessive does not allow plural heads. On the other hand, there is no reason to rule out the
occurrence of a descriptive adjective in prehead position on the X2 level, as the following examples
illustrate:
(122) a. the mother of the young child’s

b. a friend of a little boy’s
In summary, I propose that POS has two possible X3 level residences. It can occur in prehead
position, where it is a separate constituent in complementary distribution to determiners. It can also
occur in posthead position, where, necessarily, it is inside the possessor noun phrase affixed directly
to the head. In the latter residence, it blocks all posthead phrases and all constructions associated
with the plural.
If we combine the analysis of partitives, genitives of quality, numerals and measure phrases given
in the last section with the analysis of double possessives given here, we have the examples on the
following page of representative noun phrase constructions involving of and POS. Note that in
pronominal forms, e.g., her and hers, POS is not realized as a separate phonetic element, whereas
in nouns it is (John + POS = [9: anz]).23
500 Chapter Seven
7.3.3 TREE DIAGRAMS FOR THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF N3.
N3
+)))))))+)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))1
N3 C3 N2
+)))))))+)))))))))))))))))) )3)))))) ))))))))))))))))),))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))),
N3 C3 N1 of N3
+)))))),)))))3))))))),)))0)))), +)))))+))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))3))))))))))))))))),
N3 C3 N0 of N3 C3 N3 C3 N2 C3
+)))))))+))))))))))))))))))))3))))),)),
N3 C3 N1 of N3
+))))),))))))1 /)))),
N3 C3 N0 N0 C3
Jackie
she
the woman
Ø love
a giver of gifts to us
her POS selfless giving of gifts to us
that selfless giving of gifts of hers POS
all the single women of Greece

all the Greek women of Italy
every Ø single aspect of John POS miserable life of crime
my POS Latin studies of the past year

all those many studies of Latin of mine POS
all those ten new teachers of math of MIT POS

all those ten new math teachers of MIT POS
all those ten new teachers of math of John POS alma mater
all Ø [u] of those ten new math teachers of MIT POS

all Ø [u] of MIT POS ten new math teachers
more Ø new friends of John POS

some Ø old friends of his POS new wife POS
many Ø [u] of John POS ten new friends
some Ø other late French operas of Verdi POS

some Ø [u] of the other late French operas of his POS
some Ø [u] of Verdi POS other late French operas
all those ten new vocal scores of John POS

all Ø [u] of those ten new vocal scores of John POS
those three grand grand pianos of John POS

all those many secret stock options of my POS friends POS
too much Ø fresh thyme

a dash of Ø fresh thyme
too many Ø extra feet of Ø rope

all Ø three feet of that white rope of John POS
all Ø three [u] of those three feet of rope
all Ø six glasses of that cheap Rhine wine of hers POS

Ø two ounces of John POS fruity wine
all Ø six cups of Ø sugar

all Ø six [u] of those six cups of sugar
twice the usual number of Ø feisty math students
triple the size of that tasty hot dog of his POS

triple the size of his POS tasty hot dog
those two great weeks of Ø bright sun shine

those two quiet hours of Ø prayer
such a deal
what a deal
Chapter Seven 501
7.3.4 GERUNDIAL NOMINALS AND DERIVED NOMINALS.
We now turn to the major issue of this section, the internal structure of nominalizations. We are
concerned with data like the following:
(123) Derived Nominals, –ion type.
a. Bill’s nomination of John

b. the nomination of John
c. *Ø nomination of John
(124) Derived Nominals, –ing type.
a. Bill’s nominating of John

b. the nominating of John
c. *Ø nominating of John
(125) Gerundial Nominals.
a. Bill’s nominating John

b. *the nominating John
c. Ø nominating John
Of these three nominals, the first two are clearly noun–like constructions and the third is clearly a
verb–like construction: witness the varying grammaticality of the (c)–examples.24 Further, X2
level modifiers of the derived nominals are adjectives, whereas X2 modifiers of gerundial nominals
are adverbs:
(126) a. Bill’s sudden nomination of John

b. *Bill’s suddenly nomination of John
(127) a. Bill’s sudden nominating of John

b. *Bill’s suddenly nominating of John
(128) a. *Bill’s sudden nominating John

b. Bill’s suddenly nominating John
Despite the verb–like character of the gerundial nominal, it can fill all the positions noun phrases
fill:
(129) a. Bill’s nominating John came as a surprise.

b. I heard about Bill’s nominating John
c. Bill’s nominating John was received with derision.
d. Bill’s nominating John was tough to take.
502 Chapter Seven
Herein lies the problem: if the gerundial nominal is essentially verb–like, how can it fill positions
normally associated with noun phrases? It is this question that I shall attempt to answer now.
Notice first that the possessive subject of gerundial nominals is severely restricted. If it is a
pronoun, a proper noun, or a noun preceded by an adjective, then the construction is generally
grammatical:
(130) Pronoun:
a. His nomination of Mary was a surprise to everyone.

b. His nominating of Mary was a surprise to everyone.
c. His nominating Mary was a surprise to everyone.
(131) Proper noun:
a. Bill’s nomination of John was a shrewd political move.

b. Bill’s nominating of John was a shrewd political move.
c. Bill’s nominating John was a shrewd political move.
(132) Noun preceded by an adjective:
a. The old man’s nomination of his mistress was the highlight of the evening.
b. The old man’s nominating of his mistress was the highlight of the evening.
c. The old man’s nominating his mistress was the highlight of the evening.
On the other hand, when the possessive subject contains postnominal modifiers, the results are
unstable. I have obtained mixed judgements from different speakers on a variety of examples.
Curiously, upon repetition, speakers report that nominals which they originally found ungrammatical
begin to sound okay. This occurred, in particular, when all the examples I showed them contained
nominalizations of the same verb. To avoid this effect, I have interspersed the examples using the
verb nominate below with examples using other verbs. The greatest variability I have found occurs
in the third and sixth sentence of each of the following sets; generally, the f–sentence was judged
the worse, the c–sentence was judged almost as bad; the b–sentence and e–sentence were
occasionally judged as marginal:25
(133) Restrictive Relatives off N2.
a. The man that Bill campaigned for’s nomination of John was greeted with applause.
b. The man that Bill campaigned for’s nominating of John was greeted with applause.
c. *?The man that Bill campaigned for’s nominating John was greeted with applause.
d. The student that he’s looking for’s circulation of the petition was deemed subversive.
e. The student that he’s looking for’s circulating of the petition was deemed subversive.
f. *The student that he’s looking for’s circulating the petition was deemed subversive.
Chapter Seven 503
(134) Prepositional Phrases off N2.
a. The senator from Michigan’s nomination of his wife was political suicide.
b. The senator from Michigan’s nominating of his wife was political suicide.
c. *?The senator from Michigan’s nominating his wife was political suicide.
d. The policemen in New Jersey’s rejection of the contract was predictable.

e. The policemen in New Jersey’s rejecting of the contract was predictable.
f. *The policemen in New Jersey’s rejecting the contract was predictable.
(135) Participles off N2.
a. The woman standing next to the Harry’s nomination of John was a joke.
b. The woman standing next to the Harry’s nominating of John was a joke.
c. *?The woman standing next to the Harry’s nominating John was a joke.
d. The doctor’s leaving the hospital’s termination of the procedure was rash.
e. The doctor’s leaving the hospital’s terminating of the procedure was rash.
f. *The doctor’s leaving the hospital’s terminating the procedure was rash.
Furthermore, the possessive subject cannot have the usual quantifiers in prenominal position:
(136) a. Each/all of the men’s nomination of a relative was labeled nepotistic.

b. Each/all of the men’s nominating of a relative was labeled nepotistic
c. *?Each/all of the men’s nominating a relative was labeled nepotistic.
d. Each of the children’s recitation of the poem was adorable.

e. Each of the children’s reciting of the poem was adorable.
f. *Each of the children’s reciting the poem was adorable.
Given the above, it seems as though the possessive subject of gerundial nominals most often evinces
the same restrictions as the double possessive. However, the instability of the judgements suggests
some kind of structural ambiguity is present. To account for this, suppose we say that the possessive
subject of gerundial nominals has either of the following configurations in free variation:26
(138) The Structure of Gerundial Nominals.
a. Bill’s nominating John

[N3 [N3 Bill POS] nominating John]
b. Bill’s nominating John

[N3 [N3 Bill] POS nominating John]
504 Chapter Seven
In (138a), the internal N3 has the structure of a double possessive, that is, the POS is inside of the
possessor phrase. In such a construction, postmodification is not possible; the possessive suffix
must be attached directly to the head. In (138b), POS is a separate element outside of the possessor
phrase as it is in ordinary nominals and derived nominals:
(139) The Structure of Derived Nominals.
a. Bill’s nomination of John

[N3 [N3 Bill] POS nomination of John]
b. Bill’s nominating of John

[N3 [N3 Bill] POS nominating of John]
The above account is reminiscent of the variability of perfective have, discussed in Chapter Three.
When two perfectly good constructions are available for some constituent, and the only difference
is whether the constituent is part of the preceding or following phrase, its seems that the constituent
can roam back and forth with some degree of freedom. Note that POS in gerundial nominals as
represented in (138) has this characteristic. On the other hand, derived nominals seem fairly stable
particularly when they have a direct object anchored by of. Thus, we are safe in generally assuming
the structure in (139).
One virtue of the above analysis is that it will allow us to account for occasional uses of the
gerundial nominal with determiners, e.g., this telling tales of yours has got to stop (Schachter 1976).
Such examples will be left with no structural description if we simply rule out all determiners with
the gerundial nominal.
Let us now turn to the verb–like character of the gerundial nominal. We can account for the data
if we assume that the V3 containing the nominal is embedded in posthead position, where it can
have internal posthead elements just like the present participle (cf. the man charming the snakes).
On the other hand, we can account for the noun–like character of the derived nominal if we assume
that the V3 containing the nominal is embedded in prehead position, where it cannot have internal
posthead elements just like all such compounds (cf. *the as charming as a snake man). Thus, the
full structure for gerundial and derived nominals is as follows:
(140) a. Bill’s nominating John (Gerundial Nominal; POS inside of possessor phrase)
[N3 [N3 Bill POS] [N0 [N0 GN] [V3 [V1 [V0 nominating] John]]]]
b. Bill’s nominating John (Gerundial Nominal; POS adjacent to possessor phrase)

[N3 [N3 Bill] POS [N1 [N0 [V3 [V0 nominating]] [N0 GN]] John]]
c. Bill’s nominating of John (Derived Nominal; POS adjacent to possessor phrase)

[N3 [N3 Bill] POS [N1 [N0 [V3 [V0 nominating]] [N0 DN]] of John]]
Chapter Seven 505
Notice that the heads of all phrases in (140) are nominal affixes: the nominal affix is GN in (140a)
and (140b), and the nominal affix is DN in (140c). Beyond that, the GN and DN structures are quite
different. In (140a), POS is inside of the subject phrase and the complement of the nominal is the
direct object of the verb. In (140b), POS is adjacent to the subject phrase yet the complement of the
nominal is still the direct object of the verb. In (140c), POS is outside of the subject phrase and the
complement of the nominal is not the direct object of the verb. If we accept these different structural
representations, then all of the data above are accounted for. Further, the variable restrictions on the
possessive subject of a gerundial nominal can be related to the ambiguity of the structure.
If the above analysis can be maintained, then we have a clear structural difference in various
nominalizations that have concerned generative grammarians since Chomsky 1964 and the
A–over–A Principle. Consider the following:
(141) a. *Whoi would you approve of Bill’s nomination of [e]i?

b. *Whoi would you approve of Bill’s nominating of [e]i?
c. Whoi would you approve of Bill’s nominating [e]i?
d. Whoi would you approve of my seeing [e]i? (Chomsky’s example)
In (141a) and (141b), the element POS is a separate constituent outside of the preceding N3; thus,
it C–commands the [e] (cf. (140a)). In (141c) and (141d), the element POS is inside of the N3
containing the head to which it is affixed; thus it does not C–command the [e] (cf. (140a)). Further,
in all the examples in (141), POS is obligatory. In the next chapter (see Page 541 ff.), we will see
that these facts form the basis of a general restriction on the occurrence of [e], accounting for (141).
Given the structures we have proposed, all relevant data have therefore been accounted for. Of
particular significance is the fact that the peculiarities of the gerundial nominal do not have to be
described by adding category switching rules to the grammar. For example, Jackendoff (1977:
Chapter 9) proposes the following schema for “deverbalizing rules”:
(142) Xi v af – Vi
He then proposes to account for the verbal nature of gerundial nominals with the following:
(143) N33 v ing – V33
Such rules violate the projection principle and seriously complicate the grammar of languages. In
the analysis proposed here, the verbal character of gerundial nominals is accounted for without
category switching rules. Our analysis prohibits N3 as the maximal projection of V0. We can
encode this restriction in the following constraint:
(144) THE X PROJECTION CONDITION (XPC).
The projections of a syntactic feature matrix E are E0, E1, E2, E3, where E = E.
506 Chapter Seven
7.4 ABSTRACT REPRESENTATIONS, CONTRACTION, AND THE PASSIVE.
It appears that all models of grammar must posit a level of abstract representation (henceforth, AR)
for sentences, as well as a level of phonetic representation (henceforth, PR). This seems
unavoidable given sentences like the following:
(145) a. John will sing if you ask him to sing.

b. John will sing if you ask him to.
Speakers know that the two sentences in (145) mean the same thing; more importantly, that (145b)
is missing a verb after the word to, and that missing verb can only be sing. Hence, (145b) is
represented with the AR in (146).
(146) John will [sing] if you ask him to [u].
Unlike all versions of an MA (Movement Approach to syntactic analysis), which claim that the order
of lexical items in any AR–PR pair can be different, the NMA (Non–Movement Approach to
syntactic analysis) presented here claims that the order must be the same, a constraint which we will
refer to as the Strict Order Condition (henceforth, SOC).
The difference has significant consequences. Consider, for example, the following sentences:
(147) a. There is going to be a problem. (cf. There seems to be a problem.)

b. They are going to be a problem. (cf. They seem to be a problem.)
Details aside, the AR for these sentences in an MA are as follows:
(148) a. [e] is going [ [e] to be a problem] (see Chomsky 1995; Grout 1999: 37 ff.)
b. [e] is going [ they to be a problem] (see Culicover 1997:104-107)
After the application of there–insertion (Merge) and Move–" (Move), these become the following:
(149) a. therei is going [ [e]i to be a problem]

b. theyi is going [ [e]i to be a problem]
One difficulty with these representations is that an MA must now include some special statement
that allows contraction over the [e] to produce (150), whereas contraction over the [e] in (151a) must
be prevented.27
(150) a. There’s gonna be a problem.

b. They’re gonna be a problem.
(151) a. himi they might want [ [e]i to be the winner]

b. *him they might wanna be the winner
Chapter Seven 507
It might be proposed that contraction over an empty category is only possible if the empty category
is not case marked, that is, contraction is possible over PRO and NP–trace, but not WH–trace. Thus,
the correct results are obtained for a sentence like (147b) whether one chooses a PRO or NP–trace
analysis:
(152) a. they are going [ PRO to be a problem] > they’re gonna be a problem
b. theyi be going [ [e]i to be a problem] > they’re gonna be a problem
While this accounts for the above data, it fails to explain the following where contraction cannot
occur over the NP–trace of passive:
(153) a. They dared him to challenge her.

b. He was dared to challenge her.
c. *He was [dærDc] challenge her.
d. Did he [dærDc] challenge her?
(154) a. They allowed him to go.

b. He was allowed to go.
c. *He was [clawDc] go.
d. He was able to go. > He was [ebclc] go.
Assuming a PRO analysis for (147b) does not help since (147a) cannot be given a PRO analysis.
Consider now how an NMA might deal with the above data. As we saw in Section 6.3.6 (Page 437
ff.), the NMA described here assumes no rule of there–insertion or raising and no PRO. Sentences
like (147) have an AR that matches the order of lexical items in the PR:
(155) a. There PRS be going to be a problem.

b. They PRS be going to be a problem.
Since there is no [e] in (155), we account for (150). Further, the correct interpretation of both
sentences follows directly from the structural analyses we have proposed; specifically, a problem
is in predicate nominative position which means that it refers back to the subjects there and they as
we have seen (Chapter Three, Page 163).
With regard to the passives in (153) and (154), we propose, along with various versions of an MA,
that the passive subject is associated with an empty category in object position as follows:
(156) a. Hei was dared [e]i to go.

b. Hei was allowed [e]i to go.
The presence of the [e] in (156) will block contraction, appropriately preventing (153c) and (154c).
Given these data, we may add to following condition to the grammar:28
508 Chapter Seven
(157) CONTRACTION BLOCK CONDITION (CBC).
A second difficulty with an MA is that we see the same effects in passive structures which cannot
be derived from an active:
(158) a. Theyi were set [e]i to go.

b. *They were [seDc] go.
c. *Someone set them to go.
(159) a. Johni is said [e]i to be a good teacher. (example from Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 162)
b. *John is [seDc] be a good teacher.
c. *Someone says John to be a good teacher.
If passive structures are derived from active counterparts, the interpretation of sentences like (158a)
and (159a) cannot be derived by the same principles that apply to examples like those in (156).
Further, note that passives like (158) and (159) contrast with adjectival phrases like the following:
(160) a. I am more determined to go than I have ever been before.

b. I am more [dctermcnc] go than I have ever been before.
(161) a. I am as prepared to take the test as I can be.

b. I am as [prcpærDc] take the test as I can be.
The CBC will automatically account for other structures that we have proposed. For example,
consider the following, where [u], as before, is an unbound understood object (see Section 6.3.1,
Page 410 ff.) preceding a purposive infinitive (a V2 constituent):
(162) a. Sue will now dress [u] to get ready for the prom. (reflexive object understood)
b. *Sue will now [dresc] get ready for the prom.
(163) a. They met [u] to discuss the wedding. (reciprocal object understood)
b. *They [meDc] discuss the wedding.
(164) a. Sue will nod [u] to indicate her approval. (understood body part)
b. *Sue will [naDc] indicate her approval.
(165) a. They eat [u] to live. ([u] = some type of food)

b. *They [iDc] live.
Chapter Seven 509
One might propose that the ungrammatical sentences above stem from the fact that the infinitives
are purposive, rather than complementary. But that will not work. For example, we cannot attribute
the absence of contraction in purposive infinitives to the fact that they are V2 constituents, by
claiming that contraction is possible only with complementary infinitives (V1 constituents) like the
following:
(166) a. He tried to get my attention.

b. He [trayDc] get my attention.
(167) a. I happen to be fond of her.

b. I [hæpcnc] be fond of her.
Contractibility cannot be associated only with V1, because we have contrasts like the following:
(168) a. I only agreed to make her happy. (ambiguous)
‘The thing that I agreed to was to make her happy.’ (V1 infinitive)
‘I agreed in order to make her happy.’ (V2 infinitive)
b. I only [cgriDc] make her happy. (ambiguous)
(169) a. He finally decided to make her happy.(ambiguous)
‘The decision he finally made was to make her happy.’ (V1 infinitive)
‘He finally made a decision in order to make her happy.’ (V2 infinitive)
b. He finally [dcsayDcDc] make her happy.(ambiguous)
The CBC also extends to idioms such as the following where a very specific N3 is understood:
(170) a. Did they get a chance to see that play when they were in town?
b. Did they get [u] to see that play when they were in town.
c. *Did they [geDc] see that play when they were in town.
Examples like (170) contrast with the following where no empty category occurs:
(171) a. They have got to see that play.

b. They’ve [gaDc] see that play.
Thus, the CBC, a natural condition for a grammar to contain,29 offers us a simple explanation for a
wide variety of data which a movement analysis cannot explain in an equally simple way.
The above analysis of passives in an NMA contrasts with an MA in a number of ways. For example,
consider (172).
510 Chapter Seven
(172) [John]i is believed [e]i
The difference between an NMA and an MA in regard to (172), is that an NMA would assume that
(172) is the AR, whereas an MA assumes that the AR of (172) is basically (173) and that “[John]”
moves from its position in (173) to its position in (172) to receive case (passive participles are not
case assigners in many movement based theories; Jaeggli 1986):
(173) [e] is believed [John]
The two accounts are not notational variations of each other. To see this, consider (174).
(174) a. [John]i is believed [e]i to be intelligent
b. *[John]i is believed [e]i is intelligent
In an MA, the AR of both of the sentences in (174) places the [e] in subject position of a separate
clause. All theories of grammar must account for the ungrammaticality of (174b). Assume that all
theories contain some variety of the tensed sentence condition (Chomsky 1973, 1977) to account
for (174b). The real problem is the grammaticality of (174a). In an NMA, the structure of (172) is
(175a) and the structure of (174a) is (175b).
(175) a. John is believed.
[V3 [John]i PRS [V2 be [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V1 believed [e]i]] ]] ]]
b. John is believed to be intelligent.
[V3 [John]i PRS [V2 be [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V1 believed [e]i
[C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V2 be [C3 intelligent]]] ]] ]] ]] ]]
Observe that an NMA need say nothing in particular about the grammaticality of (174a), which is
parallel to (172) as a comparison of the two structures in (175) reveals. On the other hand, in an
MA, since the “[John]” in (174a) originates in a separate clause, that model must contain some
specific statement which allows the subject to “escape” from that clause. Thus, in regard to (174),
an NMA and an MA are not notational variations of each other.
Essentially, the same issue, whether or not the infinitive is a separate syntactic unit with a local
subject, is involved in the following classic examples:
(176) a. The candidates expect each other to win.

b. *The candidates expect that each other would win.
(177) a. Each of the candidates believes himself to be the best.

b. *Each of the candidates believes that himself is the best.
Chapter Seven 511
(178) a. Whoi does John believe [e]i to be the best candidate?
b. *Whoi does John believe that [e]i is the best candidate?
The difference between the treatment of (174), (176), (177), and (178) in an NMA and an MA
hinges on the definition of a subject. In movement analyses, all predicates typically must originate
in separate clauses with local subjects; thus, subjects are defined locally. Given that, an MA is
forced to provide an explanation for the grammaticality of (174a), (176a), (177a), and (178a).
On the other hand, in an NMA, subjects are not defined locally; rather, subjects like objects are
defined in reference to linear and hierarchical position in accordance with the definitions in (15).
Thus, the above examples are not problematic for an NMA: their interpretation parallels the
interpretation of simple sentences. As is well known, reciprocal and reflexive objects of a predicate
refer back to the subject of that predicate, e.g., They believe (in) each other/themselves. The
identical principles hold in examples like They believe each other/themselves to be the best.
Similarly, we account for embedded uses of phrases like together in The candidates want to go
together. The interpretation of all of the following fall into place:
(179) a. The men want to like each other.

b. The men want the women to like each other.
c. *The men want the woman to like each other.
d. The men want the woman to like herself.
(180) a. The men want to like themselves.

b. The men want the women to like themselves.
c. *The men want the woman to like themselves.
d. The men want the woman to like herself.
(181) a. The men all want to like each other.

b. The men want all the women to like each other.
Moreover, notice that, the structural properties of many different types of verbs are generalizable
if a nonmovement analysis of believe–type verbs is assumed. As we have seen from the GUF (Page
394) and the discussion of (23) in the present chapter, verbs of communication require the AFC (the
addressee) to be realized as an N3 whenever the SCT is a V3. This constraint is part of a very
general restriction in English which requires an AFC realized as an N3 to occupy PCOMP position,
reversing the usual order of the SCT and the AFC (for convenience, I repeat the relevant examples
here):
512 Chapter Seven
(182) SUBJECT VERB PCOMP SCOMP (GOAL)
They supplied the books to the students.

They supplied the students with the books.
They gave the candy to the baby.

They gave the baby the candy.
They bought a present for the teacher.

They bought the teacher a present.
They sprinkled the water on the flowers.

They sprinkled the flowers with water.
They told a story to us.

*They told that she left to us.
They told us that she left.
They forced a reconciliation upon us

*They forced to reconcile upon us.
They forced us to reconcile.
(183) SUBJECT VERB PCOMP SCOMP (SOURCE)
They stripped the bark from the tree

They stripped the tree of its bark
They expected a reconciliation from us.

*They expected to reconcile from us.
They expected us to reconcile.
They believed that [u] of us

*They believed to be honest of us.
They believed us to be honest.
They asked a favor of us

*They asked when she left of us.
They asked us when she left.
These data indicate that English requires an N3 PCOMP to the immediate right of the governing
verb whenever possible. When verbs allow alternative constructions, e.g., supply, give, buy, sprinkle
and strip, there is a reversal of the order of the SCT and AFC. If the AFC can be profiled as a direct
object, then it must be realized as an N3 in PCOMP position. When the SCT contains a V3, the
AFC must also be realized as an N3 in PCOMP position, probably because a V3 is heavy
Chapter Seven 513
constituent. In the NMA discussed here, these structural facts are generalized for all of the above
verbs. Specifically, a verb of communication with GOAL orientation like tell parallels other verbs
with GOAL orientation like supply; a verb of communication with SOURCE orientation like expect
parallels other verbs with SOURCE orientation like strip.
Broadening the discussion further, note that, in addition to the empty category [e] seen in the
examples above, both an NMA and (presumably) an MA must contain an unbound understood
empty category ([u]) seen in sentences like the following:
(184) a. John is eating [u]. (John is eating something.)

b. John blinked [u]. (John blinked his eyes.)
c. John dressed [u] quickly. (John dressed himself quickly.)
The difference between [e] and [u] in both an NMA and an MA is that the position occupied by [e]
cannot be filled by a phrase without altering the form and grammaticality of the sentence in which
it occurs (*These books, you really must read these books). On the other hand, the position occupied
by [u] can be filled without altering the form and grammaticality of a sentence (John read those
books, and Bill read these [books]; John dressed [himself] quickly).
Whether or not an [e] or a [u] can occur in structure depends primarily on the subcategorization
features of the governing verb. For example, given (185), we have instances like those listed in
(186).
(185) [N3 det [N2 [N0 noun ] [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V1 [V0 verb ] [N3 [e]/[u] ] ]] ]] ]]
(186) the mani to direct [e]i/[u]

the mani to admire [e]i/*[u]
the mani to sing *[e]i/[u]

the songi to sing [e]i/*[u]
the mani to meet [e]i/*[u]

the meni to meet [e]i/[u]
Notice that the embedded infinitives in the above are all in the same neighborhood defined by the
top N3 given the presence of the determiner. Thus, the subject of each infinitive must be inside of
the N3. Further, notice that the infinitives are in modifier position (off N2), the residence of
restrictive relative clauses as we argued in Chapter Three (Page 165), thus a phrase like the man to
direct is like the man who is to direct.30 We need not transform one phrase into the other.
It seems fairly clear that the interpretation of the [e] in (185) is determined by the syntactic
specifications of the verb, that is, whether it is transitive or intransitive, whether it allows an
understood object, whether it allows various alternations, and so on. Semantic considerations are
also relevant. Compare the road to travel with the man to travel, the mountain to climb (up) with
514 Chapter Seven
the man to climb (with), the museum to visit with the relatives to visit, etc.
Notice also that we can prevent the head noun (man/men) from being assigned an interpretation as
both the subject and object of the same verb with the DRC given in Chapter Three (see Page 235):
(187) The Distinct Reference Condition (DRC).
No N3–[e] chain can fulfill more than one grammatical function for the same verb.
Given the DRC, we account for the following:
(188) a. Theyi are hiring *[e]i/[u]/people/themselvesi.
b. We tried to keep themi from hiring *[e]i/[u]/Bill/themselvesi.
The subject of hiring must be they/them since they/them immediately C–commands

and precedes hiring; simultaneously, they/them cannot be the referent of [e], the
object of hiring, without violating the DRC.
As the examples in (188) show, when the complement of a predicate refers to the same entity as the
subject, English demands a reflexive (or reciprocal) pronoun. Note that all of the following are
ungrammatical with the [e] referring to the subject, but grammatical if the [e] is replaced with a
reflexive.
(189) a. Edi liked *[e]i/himselfi.

b. Edi relied on *[e]i/himselfi.
c. Edi talked about *[e]i/himselfi too much.
d. Edi made *[e]i/himselfi sick.
e. Edi told *[e]i/himselfi lies.
f. Edi was killing *[e]i/himselfi.
g. Edi was not *[e]i/himselfi today.
h. Edi was afraid of *[e]i/himselfi.
A potential problem for the present analysis occurs in passives like the following:
(190) Edi was hired [e]i.
Given the C–command relations in (15), Ed is the subject of hired in (190) since it immediately
C–commands and precedes hired, and [e] is the object of hired since it immediately C–commands
and follows hired. Therefore, the chain Ed–[e] fulfills more than one grammatical function for hired
and should be ruled out by the DRC. Since (190) is grammatical, we need to prevent the DRC from
applying. To accomplish that, let us suppose that the grammar also contains the following condition:
Chapter Seven 515
(191) The Subject Exclusion Condition (SEC).
The passive morpheme PSVP is a barrier to subject assignment.
The SEC seems a natural part of any grammar that contains passives like English. Passive verbs
reverse thematic structure and cannot have a lexical N3 as their primary complement, either direct
object (hire, kill, etc.) or prepositional object (rely on, agree to, etc.). In short, the passive PSVP
must C–command an [e] complement by definition. Given the SEC, consider the following:
(192) Theyi were hired [e]i.

[V3 [N3 they]i PST [V2 [V0 were] [C3 [C0 [C0 PSVP] [V3 [V1 [V0 hired] [e]i ]] ]] ]]
In this example, the subject of hire cannot be they even though they immediately C–commands and
precedes hire because the passive marker, PSVP, intervenes between the two and excludes subject
function for they. Note that examples like (192) and (193) are in complementary distribution to the
examples in (189) containing verbs that allow the passive, namely, (189a)–(189f).
(193) a. Edi was liked [e]i.

b. Edi was relied on [e]i.
c. Edi was talked about [e]i too much.
d. Edi was made [e]i sick.
e. Edi was told [e]i lies.
f. Edi was being killed [e]i.
If we refine the C–command relation as in (194), and include the well–known constraint in (195),
we can account for a significant number of core cases involving personal pronouns, reflexive
pronouns, reciprocal pronouns, and floating quantifiers as indicated in (196), (197), (198), and (199).
(194) a. C–Command: A node X C–commands a node Y if X does not dominate Y, if Y

does not dominate X, and if the first branching node Z dominating
X also dominates Y.
b. L–command: A node X L–commands a node Y, if X C–commands Y, and Y is

to the left of the head of Z.
c. R–command: A node X R–commands a node Y, if X C–commands Y, and Y is

to the right of the head of Z.
(195) A pronoun must agree with its referent in case, number, and gender.
516 Chapter Seven
(196) Personal Pronouns (he, him, his; she, her, hers; they, them, their; etc.).
A personal pronoun can refer to any N3 in the same sentence except when the pronoun
C–commands and precedes that N3. A personal pronoun and its referent cannot be in the
same neighborhood unless a subject intervenes between the two.31
a. *The womeni admire themi.

b. *Theyi said that the womeni admire Sue.
c. *Theyi said that Sue admires the womeni.
d. The womeni said that theyi admire Sue.
e. The womeni said that Sue admires themi.
f. The womeni asked the men to take care of themi.
g. *The women asked the meni to take care of themi.
h. The womeni consider the men (to be) considerate of themi.
i. *The women consider the meni (to be) considerate of themi.
j. Johni’s sisters invited himi.
k. *John’s sistersi invited themi.
l. Johni likes the women’s descriptions of himi.
m. *John likes the womeni’s descriptions of themi.
n. The womeni like John’s descriptions of themi.
o. *The women like Johni’s descriptions of himi.
(197) Reflexive Pronouns (himself, herself, themselves, etc.).
The referent of a reflexive pronoun is the N3 which most immediately R–commands the
pronoun in the same neighborhood.
a. The womeni admire themselvesi.

b. *Themselvesi said that the womeni admire Sue.
c. *Themselvesi said that Sue admires the womeni.
d. *The womeni said that themselvesi admire Sue.
e. *The womeni said that Sue admires themselvesi.
f. *The womeni asked the men to take care of themselvesi.
g. The women asked the meni to take care of themselvesi.
h. *The womeni consider the men (to be) considerate of themselvesi.
i. The women consider the meni (to be) considerate of themselvesi.
j. *Johni’s sisters invited himselfi.
k. John’s sistersi invited themselvesi.
l. *Johni likes the women’s descriptions of himselfi.
m. John likes the womeni’s descriptions of themselvesi.
n. *The womeni like John’s descriptions of themselvesi.
o. The women like Johni’s descriptions of himselfi.
Chapter Seven 517
(198) Reciprocal Pronouns (each other, etc.).
The referent of a reciprocal pronoun is the N3 which most immediately R–commands the
pronoun in the same neighborhood.
a. The womeni admire each otheri.

b. *Each otheri said that the womeni admire Sue.
c. *Each otheri said that Sue admires the womeni.
d. *The womeni said that each otheri admire Sue.
e. *The womeni said that the men admire each otheri.
f. *The womeni asked the men to take care of each otheri.
g. The women asked the meni to take care of each otheri.
h. *The womeni consider the men (to be) considerate of each otheri.
i. The women consider the meni (to be) considerate of each otheri.
j. *The meni’s sisters invited each otheri.
k. The men’s sistersi invited each otheri.
l. *The meni like the women’s descriptions of each otheri.
m. The men like the womeni’s descriptions of each otheri.
n. *The womeni like John’s descriptions of each otheri.
(199) Floating Quantifiers (all, each, both).
The referent of a floating quantifier is the N3 which most immediately L–commands the
quantifier in the same neighborhood.
a. The men all could have gone/been fishing.

b. The men could all have gone/been fishing.
c. The men could have all gone/been fishing.
d. *The men could have gone/been all fishing.
518 Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven 519
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER SEVEN
1. For a quasi–formal statement of the technical terms that will be used in this chapter, such as
C–command, Precedence, Chain of Binding, Dominance, etc., see Appendix A beginning on Page
607. I will assume familiarity with such terms in the ensuing discussion.
2. I am not claiming that such examples are synonymous, nor that they are transformationally
related, nor even that they can be used interchangeably. My only purpose in proffering such
examples is to point out that they involve similar, and sometimes identical, thematic relations
predicted by the meaning of the governing verb.
3. I will discuss the internal structure of various nominalizations in Section 7.3 below.
4. The verb force differs from insert in profiling the manner of movement with an incorporated
CIRCUMSTANTIAL theme. Also, the lexical specification for force must contain the following
variation mentioned in Chapter Two (Page 111): We forced a reconciliation upon/*to them.
5. According to the GUF (Page 394), when any AFC theme is realized as an N3, it must precede
the SCT. In verbs of communication, the AFC (the addressee) is always realized as an N3 if the
SCT contains a V3 (an infinitive phrase, a that–clause, or a WH–clause), probably because the V3
is “heavy”:
(i) a. We forced them to reconcile.

b. *We forced to reconcile upon them.
(ii) a. I told him that she left.

b. *I told that she left to him.
(iii) a. I asked him when he was leaving.

b. *I asked when he was leaving of/from him. (cf. I asked/requested a favor of/from him.)
Since this reversal of the order of thematic elements is a general feature of English verbs of
communication, it is stated as a lexical redundancy rule rather than listed with each verb.
6. The network for speech acts is illustrative only, like the previous sample networks we have
examined. For examples of the individual characteristics of verbs used in speech acts, see Quirk,
R. et al. 1985: Chapter Eleven; Wierzbicka: 1987; Levin 1993: 202–212.
7. I am not claiming that the pairs in (37) are synonymous or that there is a derivational relationship
between them. My purpose in mentioning such pairs is to show the relationship between the two
520 Chapter Seven
uses of to.
8. The word to must also distinguished from two. Consider the following examples assuming that
heavy stress falls on clean:
(i) a. I have two CLEAN shirts.

b. *I hafta CLEAN shirts.
(ii) a. I have to CLEAN shirts.

b. I hafta CLEAN shirts.
9. This constraints holds even when the agreement is not overtly contrastive. We have seen that the
Noun Phrase Condition (NPC) in English (Section 3.2, Page 180 ff.) requires present verbs to be
marked overtly for number (He plays versus They play). In the same section, we offered an
explanation for why verbs are not marked overtly for number in the past tense (He played versus
They played). Note also that there is no overt number marking on the verb when the mood is other
than the indicative. For example, consider the following:
(i) Imperatives.
a. (You) be careful and take care of yourself.

b. (You) be careful and take care of yourselves.
(ii) Subjunctive.
a. May he be the winner.

b. May they be winners.
(iii) Conditional.
a. If only he were here.

b. If only they were here.
Unlike the English Noun Phrase Condition (NPC) which motivates overt marking in the present
indicative, there is nothing, as far as I am aware, to motivate overt marking in the past indicative,
the imperative, the subjunctive, or the conditional. Note that the nonindicative moods are rare in
English; further, each has very specific syntactic attributes that make its usage transparent, e.g., the
inverted order in (ii) or the presence of if only in (iii). When imperatives lack an overt subject, the
understood subject can only be the second person personal pronoun, as the following well–known
examples show:
(iv) Do that, won’t you /*he please.

(v) Don’t lose your/*his cool.
(vi) Take care of yourself/*himself.
Chapter Seven 521
10. I do not include pro in the class of empty categories eliminated here. The empty category pro,
standing for the omitted subject in languages like Italian and Spanish, is equivalent to [u], that is,
the subject can be expressed:
(i) Italian.
a. Io vengo.
b. [u] vengo.
‘I come.’
(ii) Spanish.
a. Pedro llega.
b. [u] llega.
11. We have seen these ambiguities before in our discussion of the tree structure for The
conscientious ambulance driver did so leave the child with the injury with a stranger with reluctance
(see Page 264).
12. For an discussion of verbs like persuade/dissuade, see Lakoff 1970: Chapter 10. Lakoff
derives persuade from “cause to believe” (John persuaded Bill that Harry left) or “cause to intend”
(John persuaded Bill to leave). The analysis presented here has much in common with Lakoff’s
ideas, except that the variations are handled lexically here rather than with differing syntactic
representations.
We can represent the meaning of persuade (‘cause to believe’) as follows:
PERSUADE–2
a. (IGR (EFC BELIEF–1 AFC) (U ASC AFR))

b. EFC
c. ASC
d. AFR
The fact that PERSUADE–1 (‘cause to intend’) takes an infinitive and PERSUADE–2 (‘cause to
believe’) takes a that–clause is, I believe, predictable from the semantics. The former usage is an
indirect command, which is generally realized as a infinitive (I told him to leave); the latter is an
indirect statement, which is generally realized as a that–clause (I told him that Harry left).
13. For a discussion of the various meaning classes of the verbs mentioned here and below, see
Bach and Harnish 1979; Quirk, R. et al. 1985; Wierzbicka 1987; Rudanko 1989, 1996; and Levin
1993.
522 Chapter Seven
14. There are three distinct senses of tell and two distinct senses of ask as follows:
Indirect Command Indirect Question Indirect Statement
(i) I told him to go. I told him what to do. I told him that Harry went.
(ii) I asked him to go. I asked him what to do.
15. Classical grammarians distinguish verbs of saying from verbs of knowing, verbs of desiring,
verbs of promising, etc., because the constructions with each class show many variations. For a
discussion of the differences in Greek, see Smyth 1956; for Latin, see Gildersleeve and Lodge 1960.
Both sources break down the various classes of verbs in their indices. Although classical
grammarians do not attempt to justify their classifications, they commonly offer astute observations
which are very helpful.
16. The analyses presented here update, revise, and extend the discussion in Binkert 1984: Chapter
Two and Chapter Six, Section 6.5, and Pages 183–190.
17. The internal and external structure of the POS C3 parallels the MDE (MODE) C3:
(i) [N3 N3 [C3 [C0 POS] ] N0 ]

(ii) [V3 N3 [C3 [C0 MDE] ] V0 ]
As before, I abbreviate the C3’s as POS and MDE to make representations easier to read.
18. English differs from Japanese in allowing two possible orders for of–phrases when all three
occur because two of the phrases, the genitive of quality and the double possessive, are in free
variation on the N2 level.
19. Frequently, discussions of the internal constituency of noun phrases have mentioned examples
like the following to support an argument that posthead elements can be extraposed as a unit,
especially when they are “heavy”:
(i) A review appeared of the book that he wrote.
Yet, similar “light” examples are marginal or ungrammatical:
(ii) a. *?A review appeared of books.

b. *?A review appeared in the London Times of the book.
c. *A defense appeared of euthanasia in the London Times.
Further, paralleling the examples under discussion, we have the following:
(iii) a. *?that review that we read of the book so avidly

Chapter Seven 523
that review of the book that we read so avidly
b. *that defense that appeared of euthanasia so unexpectedly

that defense of euthanasia that appeared so unexpectedly
Given the variable, conflicting, and inconsistent status of examples with extraposition, I will not
attempt to account for sentences like (i), nor will I use the extraposition diagnostic to determine the
constituency of the sequence of–N3. Consider also the following:
(iv) a. *?The campaign fizzled out for a woman’s right to choose.

The campaign for a woman’s right to choose fizzled out.
b. *The teacher fainted from a small town in the south of France.

The teacher from a small town in the south of France fainted.
Since judgements of sentences in which an of–phrase is separated from its head seem to vary so
much depending on the particular words used, it may be the case that the two structures under
discussion are in free variation for speakers, that is, sometimes they may analyze the of–phrase as
a single constituent (a prepositional phrase), and sometimes they may not. One of the advantages
of the present model is that it allows for such variation. We saw such variation in Chapter Three in
the case of “homeless” have, and we will see it again below in our investigation of gerundial
nominals.
20. I have included both and half with all, since we have phrases like both the men and half the
men, both of which specify a definite number of the men. On the other hand, some combinations
with both and half, e.g., ?both Caesar’s books on war, strike me as marginal, at best. Unfortunately,
I have no explanation for such anomalies. Notice that half men is fine, as is a sentence like The
audience was half men and half women.
21. Observe that the entire double possessive phrase is an X2 level constituent. As we will see
in the next section, this is required to account for distinctions like the following:
(i) *John’s books that I’ve read have been very good.
(ii) Those books of John’s that I’ve read have been very good.
22. One would like to find some independent verification for this behavior of a clitic inside of a
phrase but, unfortunately, examples are very hard to come by for English. One possibility is the
behavior of the cliticized form of not in the mode characterizer. Consider the following:
(i) a. She might go, and then again she might not.
b. She might go, and then again she mightn’t.
(ii) a. She might well go, and then again she might well not.
524 Chapter Seven
b. *She might well go, and then again she mightn’t well.
We have argued that not occurs on the posthead X3 level of the mode characterizer in the same
position as the emphatics so and too. Thus, this position of not is analogous to the position of POS
under discussion. As the ungrammaticality of (ii–b) indicates, not can’t be cliticized to the modal
if the quantifier well intervenes. Thus, there may be a general principle which allows a phrase
internal element to cliticize to the head only when the element directly follows the head. If the
element is always a clitic like POS, then nothing can ever intervene between the element and the
head. If the element need not be a clitic (n’t versus not), then something can intervene and the clitic
occurs in full uncontracted form as in (ii–a).
23. Note the clear distinction between pronouns that occur before a prehead POS (my book,
*mine book) and those that occur before a posthead POS (that book of mine, *that book of my),
whereas there is no distinction in nouns (the boy’s, Verdi’s). I have only included two examples
with multiple possessives like some old friends of his new wife’s, because such phrases, though
possible, strike me as marginal. Note also that combinations of center–embedded occurrences of
POS in posthead position are impossible. Recall that a POS in posthead position must be directly
affixed to the head preventing a succession of two in the same noun phrase. For instance, in the
examples given, the last two occurrences of POS on the right could never co–occur: we have no
phrases like *the friend of a teacher of MIT’s’s, which, independently, would also violate the OAC
(Page 186).
24. I have included Ø in (125c) only to illustrate the comparative results of omitting a determiner
in the three types of nominals. As we will see shortly, the gerundial nominal regularly does not have
any determiner.
25. In making up other examples, it is well to avoid possessives that are ambiguous. As we saw
in our discussion of the double possessive construction, forms like [b]yz] can be interpreted as
boy’s, boys’ or boys. In particular, one wants to avoid examples like the following where the verbal
and the possessive can be interpreted in multiple ways:
(i) the [b]yz] painting her house
Note the following:
(ii) The boys painting her house are members of a local soccer team.
The boys painting her house is a sight to behold.
(iii) The boy’s painting her house by himself was quite remarkable.
The boys’ painting her house by themselves was quite remarkable.
Chapter Seven 525
26. While the two structures in (138) will account for the data, I can provide no principled reason
why one or the other is preferred in a given sentence. My own intuition is that the structure in
(138a) is almost always the appropriate structure for the possessive subject (see Binkert 1984).
27. In addition to (150), we have the following:
(i) a. There has got to be a problem.

b. They have got to be a problem.
(ii) a. There’s gotta be a problem.

b. They’ve gotta be a problem.
28. I believe that the presence of an empty category is also responsible for data like the following:
(i) They made him eat worms.

(ii) *They made him to eat worms.
(iii) *He was made eat worms.
(iv) Hei was made [e]i to eat worms.
(v) *He was [mæDc] eat worms.
As far as I am aware, the infinitive marker to can never be omitted when the governing verb is
passive, that is, when to is adjacent to an empty category.
29. Human beings are not clairvoyant (generally). Since the ECC stipulates that an empty
category can only occur in a position where a fully specified category can occur, empty categories
are associated with positions where speakers expect something to occur. The position occupied by
[u] is one that is usually filled by a fully specified phrase; the one occupied by [e] is the position
occupied by its referent in a given sentence. Contraction over empty categories would have the
effect of eliminating those positions; in essence, speakers would be unable to fill the empty positions
with appropriate phrases because the empty positions would have disappeared in contraction.
30. I will discuss restrictive and nonrestrictive relative clauses in greater detail in Section 8.2.1
below.
31. We need not appeal to a small clause analysis to account for pronominal reference in examples
like the following:
(i) a. John kept the children near him/*himself.

b. John has the children with him/*himself.
(ii) a. John saw the children smiling at him/*himself.

b. John had the children brought to him/*himself.
526 Chapter Seven
In the preceding chapters, we have seen that sequences of PCOMP + SCOMP, like those in (i),
reduce in various systematic ways. For example, as a result of the transaction in John sold the car
to Bill, we recovered the fact that Bill has the car. Similarly, in example like those in (i), we can
recover the fact that John has the children. Given the analyses described in Chapter Two, we may
relate examples like (i) to examples like (ii) which have a verbal. Note that a subject (the children)
intervenes between John and him in (ii). We may say the same about the children in (i), that is, that
the PCOMP + SCOMP sequence reduces to the children are near/with him.
In essence, the small clause analysis is correct: sequences of PCOMP + SCOMP reduce to a
quasi–clausal relationship between the entities involved. However, there is no reason to recover the
relevant information through abstract syntactic representations. The issues can be handled lexically
as we have seen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
8.1 PERMANENT RESIDENTS, FREE RESIDENTS AND RESIDENTIAL DOMAINS.
In our discussion of the English Noun Phrase Condition (Chapter Three, Section 3.2, Page 180 ff.),
we saw that N3 with a common noun head must contain a determiner either overtly (the, this, that,
etc.) or covertly (the phonologically null DET Ø) or the POS marker (the man standing over there’s
mother). Correspondingly, in V3, we have seen that some verbs, such as quip, whisper and chortle,
obligatorily require the presence of a complementizer (CPL) like that, while other verbs, such as
believe, think, and say, govern tensed V3 introduced by no apparent complementizer. Indirect
questions, on the other hand, always require either an overt WH–word (I don’t know where he went)
or an overt complementizer (I don’t know if he went). We turn now to a consideration of the
relationship between determiners, complementizers and WH–phrases within N3 and V3.
8.1.1 THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN N3 AND V3.
In Chapter 7, Section 7.3.1 (Page 489 ff.), we saw that an indefinite quantifier like some, enough,
or more is a noun which must be separated from an overt determiner (either DET or POS) by the
word of; whereas definite quantifiers like all, both or half can generally omit of. The data we
examined there included the following:
(1) a. some/enough/more *(of) the/those/these men

b. some/enough/more *(of) Caesar’s men
c. some/enough/more *(of) his men
d. some/enough/more (*of) Ø men
(2) a. all/both/half (of) the/those/these men

b. all/both/half (of) Caesar’s men
c. all/both/half (of) his men
d. all/both/half (*of) Ø men
Consider now the WH–word which. In terms of the above structures, which patterns like some,
enough, and more. Consider the following:
(3) a. which *(of) the/those/these men

b. which *(of) Caesar’s men
c. which *(of) his men
d. which (*of) Ø men
The above data suggest that which must be analyzed as an N3, specifically, a quantifier. There is
528 Chapter Eight
independent evidence supporting that analysis. First, notice that there are uses of which that parallel
who(m) and must be analyzed as a (pro)noun:
(4) a. The man who(m) Mary saw was John.

b. The dog which Mary saw was Fido.
(5) a. John loves Aida, who is coming to Detroit next season.

John loves Aida, and she is coming to Detroit next season.
b. John loves Aida, which is coming to Detroit next season.

John loves Aida, and it is coming to Detroit next season.
Second, which, like some and more, cannot occur with a quantifier like all, suggesting that which
has quantitative properties since a noun head cannot be specified by more than one quantifier (*all
more men, *which some men, etc.). This is the case. Quantifiers and WH–phrases involve similar
scope ambiguities (see May, R. 1985):
(6) a. What did all the players buy the coach?

b. All the players bought something for the coach.
Both of the sentences in (6) have either a collective or distributive meaning, that is, they can
describe a situation where all the players chipped in for one gift or where each of the players bought
an individual gift. Further, as Nishigauchi (1990: 2–3) points out “WH–phrases in natural language
comprise a class of quantificational expressions – linguistic expressions which are associated with
scope.” For example, “it is impossible for a pronominal to be related with a quantifier across a
sentence boundary”:
(7) a. Every studenti wrote a term paper in his/heri field.

b. Every studenti in the Department took this course. *He/shei was required to write at
least one paper.
The same contrast is seen in the following:
(8) a. Which mani succeeded in selling hisi car?

b. Whoi is going to visit Kyoto? *I’m sure hei will enjoy it.
Given the above, let us say that which and other WH–words are quantifiers. This means, in broad
terms, that we might propose the following structures, which contain three phonologically empty
characterizers (Ød = empty determiner, Øs = empty complementizer for statements, Øq = empty
complementizer for questions; suffixes for expository purposes only):
Chapter Eight 529
(9) N3 C3 N3 C3 HEAD
a. She read
[N3 those descriptions of it ]
[N3 Ød descriptions of it ]
[N3 John POS descriptions of it ]
[N3 which Ød descriptions of it ]

[N3 some Ød descriptions of it ]
[N3 all those descriptions of it ]

[N3 all Ød descriptions of it ]
[N3 all Ød [N3 John POS descriptions of it ]]
[N3 all Ød [N3 the john POS descriptions of it ]]
* [N3 all those [N3 John POS descriptions of it ]]
b. She thought
[V3 that [V3 John PST described it ]]
[V3 Øs [V3 John PST described it ]]
c. She wondered
[V3 [u] if [V3 John PST described it ]]
[V3 whati Øq [V3 John PST described ei ]]
* [V3 [u] Øq [V3 John PST described it ]]

* [V3 whati if [V3 John PST described ei ]]
Looking first at (9a), having analyzed which and some as quantifiers, we can make the following
generalization:1
(10) THE NOUN SPECIFIER CONDITION (NSC).
A noun head can be specified by at most one overt quantifier and one overt determiner.
The NSC rules out (11) but allows (12):
(11) a. *all some students, *some both students, *which all students, *both which students
b. *the my students, *those the students, *no my students, *the no students
(12) a. all John’s ideas, both my sons

b. half the time, all that furniture
The NSC is related to the fact that a verb head can be specified by only one TENSE/MODE and one
SUBJECT:
530 Chapter Eight
(13) a. *He had went.
b. *She could was going.
c. The men *(and) the women left.
Thus, we generalize the NSC as follows:
(14) THE X3 SPECIFIER CONDITION (XSC).
a. A head can be specified by at most one overt N3 quantifier, one overt N3 subject,
one overt C3 determiner, and one overt C3 TENSE/MODE.
b. All N3 must be specified by a C3 determiner; all V3 must be specified by a

TENSE/MODE (unless ruled out by independent principles such as the OAC).
Turning to (9b), notice that the analysis postulates a phonologically null complementizer Øs when
it appears that there is no complementizer present. Such structures are motivated by the fact that
indirect declaratives display very similar properties whether or not they are “cued” by an overt
complementizer. For example, they admit neither topicalized nor dislocated expressions (see
Emonds 1976: Chapter II; Chomsky 1973):2
(15) a. This book, you really must read.

b. *??John thinks (that), this book, you really must read.
c. *John thinks (that) this book you really must read.
(16) a. This book, you really must read it.

b. *??John thinks (that), this book, you really must read it.
c. *John thinks (that) this book you really must read it.
Similarly, other word order variations are barred from embedded declaratives:
(17) a. Seldom does John have enough money.

b. *Sue thinks (that) seldom does John have enough money.
(18) a. Down the street rolled the baby carriage.

b. *Sue thinks (that) down the street rolled the baby carriage.
We see similar restrictions in indirect interrogatives like (9c). Consider the following:
(19) a. *??She wondered if, this book, she really had to read.
*She wondered if this book she really had to read.
b. *??She wondered if, this book, she really had to read it.
*She wondered if this book she really had to read it.
Chapter Eight 531
c. *She wondered if seldom does John read any books.
*She wondered if seldom John reads any books.
d. *She wondered if down the street rolled the baby carriage.
For the moment, let us simply stipulate that the presence of an obligatory complementizer (that, Øs,
if or Øq) in all embedded V3 blocks the above constructions (I will justify and generalize this
shortly).
Turning to (9c) in more detail, notice that the WH–phrase is permissible only when the
complementizer is Øq, never when the complementizer is overt. Following many authors since
Chomsky and Lasnik 1977: 435, we can account for this with the following version of the Doubly
Filled COMP filter, which does not allow both the WH–phrase and the complementizer in relative
clauses (*the book which that I read):
(20) THE DOUBLE TRIGGER CONDITION (DTC).
No V3 can dominate more than one overt clause trigger (WH–phrase or complementizer).
As (9) indicates, all embedded tensed sentences fall into one of two basic categories distinguished
by the type of phrase that introduces them:
(21) a. Indirect Declaratives.
1. I believe that he is coming.

2. I disagree with the claim that complementizers are heads of phrases.
3. It is odd that he left so early.
b. Indirect Interrogatives.
1. I wonder who he will ask to the party.

2. The issue is what he did, not when he did it.
3. What he did was terrible.
It is not possible to combine these alternatives:
(22) a. I know that he is reading.

b. I know what he is reading.
c. *I know what that he is reading.
(23) a. It is not clear that he is reading.

b. It is not clear what he is reading.
c. *It is not clear what that he is reading.
532 Chapter Eight
In short, embedded V3 can be introduced by either an overt WH–phrase or an overt complementizer,
never both, as the DTC stipulates.
The use of the word if in all the above examples of indirect questions parallels that in indirect
statements. Both are complementizers (C3). On the other hand, the word whether is not a
complementizer, but a WH–phrase, that is, an N3. Compare the following (for a discussion of
further differences between whether and if, see Bolinger 1978):
(24) a. He attaches too much importance to whether he wins.

b. He attaches too much importance to what she does.
c. *He attaches too much importance to if he wins.
d. *He attaches too much importance to that she wins.
(25) a. Happiness does not depend on whether you make a lot of money.
b. Happiness does not depend on how much money you make.
c. *Happiness does not depend on if you make a lot of money.
d. *Happiness does not depend on that you make a lot of money.
(26) a. The argument over whether he should go to college is ridiculous.

b. The argument over which college he should go to is ridiculous.
c. *The argument over if he should go to college is ridiculous.
d. *The argument over that he should go to college is ridiculous.
All the above examples derive from the fact that WH–phrases can be objects of prepositions like
other N3, but complementizers cannot. The WH–phrases above are “free relatives” (Bresnan and
Grimshaw 1978). Their gross structure is as follows (see Section 8.2.1 below for a discussion of the
internal structure of relative clauses):
(27) a. [C3 [C1 [C0 PREP] [N3 [N2 [N0 WH–PHRASE] [V3 CLAUSE] ]] ]]
b. [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [N3 [N2 [N0 whether] [V3 he wins] ]] ]]
c. [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [N3 [N2 [N0 what] [V3 she does] ]] ]]
Notice also that neither if nor that can introduce an infinitive, whereas whether, like other N3, can
(see Quirk, R. et al. 1985: 1054):
(28) a. I didn’t know whether to go to work (or stay home).

b. I didn’t know which (job) to do first.
c. I didn’t know anyone to contact for help.
d. *I didn’t know if to go to work (or stay home).
e. *I didn’t know that to do it.
As the above data indicate, whether is a noun and if is a complementizer. Since if is a

complementizer, the DTC will rule out the occurrence of what if in (9c).
Chapter Eight 533
Consider now the opposite of the above, namely, that embedded interrogatives must be introduced
by either an overt WH–phrase or an overt complementizer. This seems to be a logical necessity for
English. As the above examples indicate, many verbs and adjectives can govern either embedded
declaratives or embedded interrogatives (see (22) and (23)). If both embedded V3 allowed a
phonologically null complementizer, there would be no way to tell the difference between them, that
is, a sentence like the following would be ambiguous:3
(29) She didn’t know he went.
Notice that, in isolation, the string he went can be either a statement or a question depending on its
intonation contour. However, there is no intonation contour in English by which the embedded
string he went in the above can be disambiguated as declarative versus interrogative. Intonation
contours distinguishing the major sentence types (statements, commands, and questions) anchor to
the main clause, not an embedded clause.
Moreover, interrogatives are frequently signaled in the world’s languages by the addition of some
element, e.g., ka is Japanese or ne in Latin. Omitting an interrogative trigger changes meaning in
a very significant way; thus, it is not surprising that English requires an overt complementizer like
if when no other indication of interrogativity is present like a WH–phrase or inversion.
Returning to the X3 prehead elements in (9), let us now formalize two observations. First, let us
define a cue as any X3 level prehead characterizer that is a head–only phrase, that is, one with the
structure [C3 [C0 HEAD]]. Thus, a cue must occupy a fixed residence and have the simplest possible
structure. This seems reasonable: the function of a cue is to alert speakers to upcoming structure.
Given its function, it should be easy to find (I will comment on Ø shortly). Determiners, POS, and
complementizers are all head–only phrases; they cannot themselves be specified or modified, and
they have no complements. On the other hand, the overt form of the mode characterizer does not
have a fixed residence: it occurs after the subject in statements and before the subject in direct
questions. Further, it is not a head–only phrase; we can have internally complicated mode
characterizers like the following:
(30) a. [V3 he [C3 may well so] go]

b. [V3 they [C3 probably won’t all] completely finish the assignment on time]
Second, let us add the following condition to the grammar:
(31) THE X3 CUE CONDITION (XCC).4
Every embedded N3 and V3 with a common head must contain a cue.
It may seem perverse for a language to have a phonologically empty cue; however, in the few cases
where Ø occurs, other devices are present to cue structure. First, in N3, as we saw in Chapter Three
(Section 3.2, Page 180 ff.), there are four constraints which minimize miscues:
534 Chapter Eight
(32) a. If the head of a noun phrase is a singular count noun, e.g., a noun like teacher, then
the noun phrase must have an overt determiner (a word like the or a); if the head is
plural (teachers), the determiner need not be overt (it can be Ød): the teacher, *Ød
teacher, the teachers, Ød teachers.
b. Between the determiner and the head noun of a noun phrase, there can be no other
noun that is plural: Ød language teachers, *Ød languages teachers.
c. Between the determiner and the head noun of a noun phrase, no other determiner can
occur: Ød teachers of that language, *Ød that language teachers.
d. The head of a noun phrase must be separated from posthead elements by an overt
characterizer: Ød love stories versus Ød love of stories.
The only possibility for miscue in N3 occurs with compound nouns. However, the above constraints
work together to help speakers locate the head of such phrases. The determiner Ød occurs with
either plural count nouns or mass nouns. In phrases like Ød sign language teachers, teachers must
be the head because (32b) does not allow any plural before the head. In phrases like Ød city crime,
crime must be the head since city, a singular count noun, must have an overt determiner if it is the
head (32a); similarly we have a crime wave and a sign language teacher, but neither *Ød crime wave
nor *Ød sign language teacher. Lastly, (32d) rules out any potential ambiguity between examples
like Ød language science and Ød language of science.
Second, in indirect interrogatives, Øq only occurs when a WH–phrase is present, that is, there is still
an overt clause trigger present (I wonder what Øq he did).
Third, in indirect declaratives, Øs occurs only when processing is not compromised. For example,
Chomsky and Lasnik (1977: 434–5) suggest that sentences like (33b) are ruled out by the filter (34)
which “is closely linked to a reasonable perceptual strategy” (35).
(33) a. The man that met you is my friend.

b. *The man met you is my friend.
(34) *[NP NP tense VP]
(35) In analyzing a construction C, given a structure that can stand as an independent clause,
take it to be the main clause of C.
In a similar vein, most speakers find garden path sentences like (36a) unacceptable; however, they
have no difficulties when the cues are present as in (36b).
(36) a. The editor played the tape agreed the story was a big one.
b. The editor that was played the tapes agreed that the story was a big one.
Chapter Eight 535
It seems that garden path sentences are difficult precisely because they violate (35). In effect,
although Øs can technically occur in a number of sentence types, its presence often leads to
unacceptability so it is barred by an additional constraint, namely (35).
Returning to the structures in (9), notice that there are three important differences between the
internal structure of N3 and V3. The first is that the choice of determiner N3 depends on the nature
of the head of the N3 and on the presence of other structures within the N3. For example, plural
count nouns allow Ø whereas singular count counts do not; we have He read Ø books but not *He
read Ø book. POS cannot occur with a quantifier and must occur with a nonquantifier (*all’s books
versus John’s books). Importantly, the choice of determiner does not depend on any features of the
governing verb.
On the other hand, the choice of complementizer depends on the semantic class to which the
governing verb belongs. Thus, think takes an indirect declarative introduced by either an empty or
overt complementizer; quip, which incorporates a manner of speaking (see Page 477), takes an
indirect declarative introduced by an overt complementizer for many speakers, myself included; ask
takes an indirect interrogative introduced by either an overt complementizer or an overt WH–phrase;
the verb know takes either an indirect declarative or indirect interrogative; and so on.
Given these dependencies, suppose we distinguish the following two types of residents:5
(37) a. Free Resident: freely overt or empty, e.g., She said that/Øs he went.
b. Permanent Resident: obligatorily overt, e.g., She whispered that/*Øs he went.
For reasons given above, POS is a permanent resident of N3 specified by a nonquantifier phrase (I
read John’s book versus *I read John book). Indirect declaratives are generally introduced by either
an overt or empty complementizer (a free resident), whereas indirect interrogatives must be
introduced by an overt complementizer or WH–phrase (a permanent resident).
We have the following summary of verbs taking embedded tensed V3, either an indirect declarative
or an indirect interrogative or both:
(38) VERB CLASS SPECIFIER EXAMPLE
a. believe unmarked free He believes that/Ø she went.

b. say unmarked free He says that/Ø she went.
c. quip marked permanent He quipped that/*Ø she went.
d. ask unmarked permanent He asked whether/if/*Ø she went.
e. wonder unmarked permanent He wondered whether/if/*Ø she went.
f. know unmarked free He knows that/Ø she went.
g. know unmarked permanent He knows whether/if/*Ø she went.
The second difference between the N3 and V3 in (9) is that the clause triggers (complementizers and
WH–phrases) reside in a recursion of V3 above the V3 that contains the MODE. On the other hand,
536 Chapter Eight
determiners do not reside in a recursive N3. Let us formally distinguish these two X3 levels. In our
discussion of control theory above (Page 483 ff.), we defined a neighborhood and the Argument
Head Condition (AHC) as follows:
(39) Definition of a Neighborhood.
a. A neighborhood is a functional unit of syntax consisting minimally of two elements:
1. A V0 or N0 head (["NML, –"VBL]).

b. All phrases C–commanded by one and the same MODE or DETERMINER or

POSSESSIVE are in the same neighborhood.
The arguments A1, A2, ...An of a verb V0i or noun N0i must be in the same neighborhood.
To capture the two distinct X3 levels in (9), suppose we refine these specifications as follows (see
Binkert 1984, 1994):
(41) Immediate Neighborhood.
a. The immediate neighborhood is a functional unit of syntax consisting minimally of

an X3 that most immediately dominates both of the following two elements:
1. A V0 or N0 head (= ["NML, –"VBL]).

b. Phrases are in the same immediate neighborhood when they are most immediately
C–commanded by the same MODE or DETERMINER or POSSESSIVE that is in
an immediate neighborhood.
(42) Extended Neighborhood.
The extended neighborhood includes all items immediately dominated by an X3 which

immediately dominates the immediate neighborhood.
The arguments A1, A2, ...An of a verb V0i or noun N0i must be in the same immediate
neighborhood.
Given these specifications, suppose we expand the DTC as follows:

Chapter Eight 537
(44) THE DOUBLE TRIGGER CONDITION (DTC).6
a. Clause triggers (WH–phrases and complementizers) must reside in the extended

neighborhood.
b. The extended neighborhood can contain only one overt clause trigger.
Since the extended neighborhood must be one X3 up from the immediate neighborhood, dislocated
expressions, topicalized expressions, and the like cannot occur to the right of a clause trigger as we
have seen (cf. (15) and (16)). Such expressions would require an X3 recursion between the extended
neighborhood and the immediate neighborhood violating the DTC.7
8.1.2 BINDING IN N3 AND V3.
Consider now the effect that the presence of different X3 level elements has on binding. The basic
structures we will be dealing with are as follows:
(45) a. [V3 whati did she see [N3 Ø descriptions of [e]i ]

b. [V3 whati did she see [N3 a description of [e]i ]
c. [V3 whati did she see [N3 the descriptions of [e]i ]
d. [V3 whati did she see [N3 John’s descriptions of [e]i ]
e. [V3 whati did she say [V3 Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]
f. [V3 whati did she say [V3 that [V3 John described [e]i ]
g. [V3 whati did she ask [V3 [u] if [V3 John described [e]i ]
h. [V3 whati did she ask [V3 whether Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]
There are two features of the above structures that require special comment. First, notice that an
indirect declarative can be triggered by an overt complementizer (45f) or one that is nonovert (45e);
however, an indirect interrogative is always introduced by an overt clause trigger, either a
complementizer (45g) of a WH–word (45h). The difference derives from consideration of the
following:8
(46) a. She said [V3 Ø [V3 John described it ]]

b. She asked [V3 whati Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]
(47) a. *She declared [V3 whati Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]

b. *She asked [V3 [u] Ø [V3 John described it ]]
(48) a. She knew [V3 Ø [V3 John described it ]]

b. She knew [V3 whati Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]
538 Chapter Eight
As the above examples indicate, WH–phrases must introduce an indirect interrogative (if there is
no overt complementizer like if). Note that (47b) is ungrammatical. Thus, there is motivation for
assuming a WH–phrase in the extended neighborhood of (46b) and (48b), and for extending such
representations to all WH–clauses. On the other hand, WH–phrases cannot occur in the extended
neighborhood of indirect declaratives as the ungrammaticality of (47a) reveals. There is, therefore,
no motivation for assuming that there is a trace of a WH–phrase in that position, as the successive
cyclic application of WH–Movement demands. Furthermore, placement of an [e] in the extended
neighborhood of the embedded V3 in (45e) and (45f) would violate the EMPTY CATEGORY
CONDITION (ECC), which stipulates that an [e] must occur in a base position and [u] must occur
in a position that can otherwise be overt (see Page 232). Since indirect declaratives can never be
triggered by an overt WH–phrase, the ECC rules out an empty category in the extended
neighborhood of the embedded V3 in (45e) and (45f).9
Second, we must relate the WH–phrases in (45) to the coindexed empty categories. To account for
the fact that they are bound to each other, we can make use of the concept “chain of binding” (see
Binkert 1984: 154) defined as follows:10
(49) Binding Relations:
a. Chain: A unit X and a unit Y form a chain (of binding) if X and Y have equivalent
syntactic feature matrices, if X dominates a fully specified lexical item, [e], or a
WH–phrase, if X C–commands Y, and if Y is an anaphor.
b. Linked Chain: Units X, Y, and Z form a linked chain (of binding) if X and Y form
a chain and if Y and Z form a chain (Y=Y). The most deeply embedded unit of the
chain is the “terminal chain unit”; the least deeply embedded is the “initial chain
unit.”
In an example like (46b), what and the empty category form a chain.
Given the above remarks, consider now the felicity of examples like those in (45). As noted in
Chomsky (1973: 239, Note 19) there is a “three–way gradation of acceptability” for some speakers
in sentences like the following:11
(50) a. Whoi did you see Ø pictures of [e]i?

b. Whoi did you see a picture of [e]i?
c. (?)Whoi did you see the pictures of [e]i?
d. *Whoi did you see John’s pictures of [e]i?
(51) a. Which problemsi are you looking for Ø solutions to [e]i?

b. Which problemsi are you looking for a solution to [e]i?
c. (?)Which problemsi are you looking for the solutions to [e]i?
d. *Which problemsi are you looking for John’s solutions to [e]i?
Chapter Eight 539
In our terms, when the determiner is empty (50a)/(51a) or overtly indefinite (50b)/(51b), the
questions have the highest degree of acceptability. They are perhaps somewhat marginal with an
overt definite determiner (50c)/(51c). With POS (50d)/(51d), they are ungrammatical. Thus, the
“lighter” the determiner, the better the sentence. We can consider POS the “heaviest” determiner
because it cannot stand alone and must be cliticized to an entire preceding N3.12
In embedded V3, there is a split in acceptability between indirect declaratives, which are introduced
by either an overt or empty complementizer (free resident), and indirect interrogatives which are
introduced by an overt complementizer or WH–phrase (permanent resident):13
(52) a. Which pillsi did he say [V3 Ø [V3 you should take [e]i ]]?
b. Which pillsi did he say [V3 that [V3 you should take [e]i ]]?
c. *Which pillsi did he say [V3 if [V3 you should take [e]i ]]?
c. *Which pillsi did he say [V3 whether Ø [V3 you should take [e]i ]]?
(53) a. Whoi did John forget [V3 Ø [V3 he mailed the checks to [e]i ]]?
b. Whoi did John forget [V3 that [V3 he mailed the checks to [e]i ]]?
c. *Whoi did John forget [V3 if [V3he mailed the checks to [e]i ]]?
d. *Whoi did John forget [V3 whether Ø [V3he mailed the checks to [e]i ]]?
The above split in acceptability does not hold for all speakers. Indeed, there seems to be
considerable variation. For example Lasnik and Saito (1992: 47) contains the following example
marked “??” by them:
(54) ??Whati do you wonder whether Ø John bought [e]i?
Chomsky (1973: 244, Note 25) says that “[s]ome speakers seem to accept such forms as What did
he wonder whether John saw, What crimes did he wonder how they solved. For me, these are
unacceptable.” Chomsky’s judgements jibe with my own. Still, we must have some way to account
for the variations attested among speakers. Making use of the heaviness criterion mentioned above,
suppose we rank the various cues and clause triggers as follows where heaviness increases as one
proceeds down each list:
(55) THE SPECIFIER HEAVINESS CONDITION (SHC).
The heavier a specifier, the more it is a barrier to binding. In the unmarked case, the
heaviness of specifiers increases as follows:
N3: a. The indefinite determiners Ø and a/an.

b. Definite determiners.
c. POS.
540 Chapter Eight
V3: a. The complementizer Ø.
b. The complementizer that.
c. The complementizer if and WH–phrases.
Accepting the SHC, we can now say that individual speakers reorder and/or regroup the categories
in terms of their own intuitions. That is, we assume that all speakers have the SHC; however, the
individual ranking within each speaker’s SHC can vary. For example, the speakers mentioned in
Chomsky’s note perhaps conflate all the V3 ranks into one, freely allowing binding in all cases.
The SHC interacts with the status of the complementizer, specifically, whether or not it can be
empty. When speakers require a specific verb to take an overt complementizer in a specific context,
the Ø alternative seen above in (52a) and (53a) does not occur. Consider the following:
(56) a. *John whispered to Sue [V3 Ø [V3 Mary would divorce Bill] ].
b. John whispered to Sue [V3 that [V3 Mary would divorce Bill] ].
(57) a. *John couldn’t confirm [V3 Ø [V3 Mary mailed the checks to Bill] ].
b. John couldn’t confirm [V3 that [V3 Mary mailed the checks to Bill] ].
(58) a. *John hopes very much [V3 Ø [V3 Mary will marry Bill] ].
b. John hopes very much [V3 that [V3 Mary will marry Bill] ].
In the above contexts, that is obligatory for many speakers, myself included. Accordingly, in direct
interrogatives, the following levels of acceptability obtain:
(59) a. *Whoi did John whisper to Sue [V3 Ø [V3 Mary would divorce [e]i ]]?
b. ?Whoi did John whisper to Sue [V3 that [V3 Mary would divorce [e]i ]]?
(60) a. *Whoi couldn’t John confirm [V3 Ø [V3 Mary mailed the checks to [e]i ]]?
b. ?Whoi couldn’t John confirm [V3 that [V3 Mary mailed the checks to [e]i ]]?
(61) a. *Whoi does John hope very much [V3 Ø [V3 Mary will marry [e]i ]]?
b. ?Whoi does John hope very much [V3 that [V3Mary will marry [e]i ]]?
These are expected results in contexts where speakers do not permit an empty complementizer.
Thus, in addition to the SHC, in different contexts, complementizers may vary between being
obligatorily or optionally overt. When the complementizer must be overt, we naturally do not get
the a–variants in the example above. The SHC and the obligatory/optional parameter provide us
with a mechanism by which we can at least register speakers’ judgements, if not provide a principled
reason for them.
The most common judgements for structures like (45) seem to be the following:
Chapter Eight 541
(62) a. [V3 whati did she see [N3 Ø descriptions of [e]i ]]
b. [V3 whati did she see [N3 a description of [e]i ]]
c. ? [V3 whati did she see [N3 the descriptions of [e]i ]]
d. * [V3 whati did she see [N3 John POS descriptions of [e]i ]]
(63) a. [V3 whati did she say [V3 Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
b. [V3 whati did she say [V3 that [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
c. * [V3 whati did she quip [V3 Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
d. * [V3 whati did she quip [V3 that [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
e. [V3 whati did she know [V3 Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
f. [V3 whati did she know [V3 that [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
g. * [V3 whati did she ask [V3 [u] if [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
h. * [V3 whati did she ask [V3 whether Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
i. * [V3 whati did she know [V3 [u] if [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
j. * [V3 whati did she know [V3 whether Ø [V3 John described [e]i ]]]
In all of the examples in (62) and (63), the WH–phrase is the referent for an empty category in
posthead position of the embedded X3. We can capture this if we make use of the L–command and
R–command relations discussed on Page 515 and repeated here for convenience:
(64) a. C–Command: A node X C–commands a node Y if X does not dominate Y, if Y

does not dominate X, and if the first branching node Z dominating
X also dominates Y.
b. L–command: A node X L–commands a node Y, if X C–commands Y, and Y is

to the left of the head of Z.
c. R–command: A node X R–commands a node Y, if X C–commands Y, and Y is

to the right of the head of Z.
Given (64), we say that an [e] that is R–commanded by a determiner, complementizer or WH–phrase
is licensed in accordance with the SHC. For example, if the determiner is Ø, the [e] will generally
be acceptable; if the complementizer is if, the [e] is not licensed; and so on.
In terms of residency, notice that [e] cannot be R–commanded by a permanent resident. In N3, POS
is a permanent resident when the N3 level contains a nonquantifier noun; hence (62d) is
ungrammatical. Similarly, examples (141a) and (141b) in Chapter Seven, Page 505 are
ungrammatical. On the other hand, when the N3 level contains a quantifier, the choice of determiner
is free (either all the men or all Ø men). Similarly, if the N3 level only contains a determiner, the
choice of determiner is free (either the men or Ø men). The only deviation from these norms
542 Chapter Eight
concerns the obligatory occurrence of an overt determiner when a singular count noun is the head,
a separate condition deriving for the Noun Phrase Condition discussed previously. Thus, the only
inconclusive structure in (62) is (62c) deriving from the SHC.
In V3, note that the sentence is ungrammatical whenever the clause trigger is a permanent resident,
and grammatical whenever it is a free resident. Thus, although the internal structure of N3 and
embedded tensed V3 is quite different, both phrases (N3 and V3) behave in very similar ways with
regard to the licensing of a posthead [e] in terms of the nature of the resident (free or permanent) that
introduces them.
Consider now sentences where the empty category is in prehead (subject) position of the N3 or
embedded V3, that is, L–commanded by the determiner, complementizer or WH–phrase:
(65) a. *Whosei did John like [N3 [e]i pictures of Bill]?

b. Whoi did John believe [V3 Ø [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
c. *Whoi did John believe [V3 that [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
d. *Whoi did John wonder [V3 if [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
e. *Whoi did John wonder [V3 whether Ø [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
In all of the ungrammatical examples above, the [e] is L–commanded by an overt determiner (POS),
complementizer (that, if) or WH–phrase (whether). Thus, we have an asymmetry between an [e]
in preverbal position and an [e] in postverbal position. Essentially, this is the that–trace effect.14
If a free resident is overt, any [e] that it L–commands is not licensed, any [e] that it R–commands
is.
This distribution is verified in (66), where the subject cannot be [e] following that, and in (67),
where the predicate nominative in postverbal position can be [e] whether that or Ø occurs:15
(66) a. Whoi did John believe [V3 Ø [V3 [e]i was in the room ]]?
b. *Whoi did John believe [V3 that [V3 [e]i was in the room ]]?
(67) a. Whoi did John believe [V3 Ø [V3 there was [e]i in the room ]]?
b. Whoi did John believe [V3 that [V3 there was [e]i in the room ]]?
8.1.3 SYNTAX AND PARSING.
Summarizing the licensing of [e], we see that a permanent resident has the effect of “freezing” an
entire neighborhood; any [e] that it C–commands is not licensed. Further, an [e] in prehead position
is much worse than one in posthead position:
(68) a. **Whosei did John see [N3 [e]i picture of Bill ]?

b. *Whoi did John see [N3 Bill’s picture of [e]i ]?
Chapter Eight 543
c. **Whoi did John quip [V3 that [V3 [e]i couldn’t win a race if he tried ]]?
d. *Whati did John quip [V3 that [V3 Mary couldn’t win [e]i if she tried ]]?
e. **Whoi did John wonder [V3 if [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
f. *Whati did John wonder [V3 if [V3 Bill won [e]i ]]?
At the other extreme, an empty free resident licenses [e] everywhere. However, the [e] in prehead
position does not seem quite as free as the one in posthead position (see Endnote 14):
(69) a. Whoi did John see [N3 Ø pictures of [e]i]?

b. Whoi did John believe [V3 Ø [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
c. Whati did John believe [V3 Ø [V3 Bill won [e]i ]]?
d. ?Whoi didn’t John believe [V3 Ø [V3 [e]i won the race ]]?
e. Whati didn’t John believe [V3 Ø [V3 Bill won [e]i ]]?
f. ?Whoi did John doubt [V3 Ø [V3 [e]i won ]]?
g. Whati did John doubt [V3 Ø [V3 Bill won [e]i ]]?
There is, therefore, an asymmetry in both (68) and (69) with regard to the position of the [e]. An
[e] is better when it is R–commanded by a permanent or empty free resident than when it is
L–commanded by them. I do not believe that this distinction has been accounted for within other
generative frameworks. Recall that we have seen such asymmetries before. In Section 7.4, Page
506 ff., we saw that reflexives and reciprocals must be R–commanded by their referents, whereas
floating quantifiers must be L–commanded by the referents. There is thus a fundamental distinction
in English between what can occur in prehead position and what can occur in posthead position.
In between the above extremes, lie the definite determiners and the complementizer that, which only
license an [e] which they R–command. As we have seen, [e] after definite determiners is marginally
acceptable (?Whoi did John see the pictures of [e]i). Similarly, [e] is licensed only when it is
R–commanded by the complementizer that:
(70) a. *Whoi does John think [V3 that [V3 [e]i likes Bill ]]?
b. Whoi does John think [V3 that [V3 Bill likes [e]i ]]?
(71) a. *Whoi does it appear [V3 that [V3 [e]i likes Bill ]]?
b. Whoi does it appear [V3 that [V3 Bill likes [e]i ]]?
Thus, [e] is licensed when it is R–commanded by the overt free residence, but not when it is
L–commanded by it. As we have noted, the above examples illustrate the that–trace effect. I
believe that we may view this effect as a special case of the above asymmetry. As before, there is
a difference between the licensing of an [e] in prehead and posthead positions.
On the other hand, matters are not so simple since the that–trace effect is not seen in relative clauses
(Chomsky and Lasnik 1977: 451; Bresnan 1976: 175; Maling and Zaenen 1978: 477, Note 1):
544 Chapter Eight
(72) a. A mani [V3 that [V3 [e]i likes Bill ]] just appeared.
b. A mani [V3 that [V3 Bill likes [e]i ]] just appeared.
Despite the similarities between (70) and (72), there is an important difference between them. The
embedded V3 in (72) are adnominal; they modify the head of an N3, specifically, man. Thus, the
empty categories in (72) are bound to a specific referent occupying an argument position in the
syntax; as a result, the interpretation of the empty categories is dependent and not free.
On the other hand, the embedded V3 in (70) are the complements of the main verb. The empty
categories in (70) are not bound to a specific referent. Their interpretation is free, as is quite natural
since the main clause is a question.
On the basis of this difference, let us say that the sequence that–[e] is licensed in relative clauses
because the interpretation of the [e] is not free, whereas the sequence that–[e] is not licensed in
complement clauses because the interpretation of the [e] is free. Notice that it is not possible to
interpret that in (72a) as part of the subject phrase of the embedded V3 (cf. That is too bad).
Relative clauses require either the WH–phrase or the complementizer to be overt when the subject
of the embedded V3 is relativized (see Section 8.2.1 below):
(73) a. The car which hit the tree was new.

b. The car that hit the tree was new.
c. *The car hit the tree was new.
Thus, parsing is not compromised by the presence of that–[e] in a relative clause. On the other hand,
in complement clauses, it is possible to interpret that as part of the subject of the complement.
(74) a. Whati do you think [that [u]] meant [e]i (to him)?
b. Whati do you think [that [u]] is [e]i?
Sentences like the above are a considerable problem for parsing programs. Worse, are examples like
the following:
(75) Does he think that man is immortal?
a. [V3 does he think [V3 that [V3 [N3 Ø man] is immortal]]]

b. [V3 does he think [V3 Ø [V3 [N3 that man] is immortal]]]
(76) What does he think that man is?
a. [V3 whati does he think [V3 that [V3 [N3 Ø man] is [e]i ]]]
b. [V3 whati does he think [V3 Ø [V3 [N3 that man] is [e]i ]]]
Chapter Eight 545
As we have had occasion to remark before, the word that has a wide variety of uses: it is a
demonstrative determiner (that man), a deictic (that’s great), a degree word (that famous), a
complementizer (I know that he went), and a relativizer (the man that I met). Thus, quite apart from
the present issue, that is one extraordinary word. Add to that, the above ambiguities, and we have
a major parsing problem. If, in addition, English tolerated that–[e] freely, we would be left with
multiple subject–object ambiguities like the following:
(77) a. * Whati did he say [V3 that [V3 [e]i helped [u]]]? (complement)
b. * Whati did he say [V3 that [V3 [u] helped [e]i]]] (complement)
c. Whati did he say [V3 Ø [V3 [N3 that [u]] helped [e]i]]? (complement)
d. Whati did he say [e]i [V3 that [V3 [e]i helped [u]]]? (relative)
(cf. He said something that/which helped.)
In short, I suggest that the that–trace effect is the result of constraints on parsing. We do not see the
that–trace effect in relative clauses because parsing is not compromised by the presence of that–[e]
(cf. (72b)). Further, it is possible to construct relative clauses that contain that–[u] as subject:
(78) a. The tree that hit toppled over. (=The tree that thing hit toppled over.)
b. [V3 [N3 the treei [V3 Ø [V3 [N3 that [u]] hit [e]i ] toppled over]
c. The tree that fell blocked the road.

d. [V3 [N3 the treei [V3 that [V3 [N3 [e]i ] fell ] blocked the road]
Examples like (78a), which are often uninterpretable at first, fall under the parsing constraint (35)
of Chomsky and Lasnik.
On the other hand, we do see the that–trace effect in complement clauses because, I would argue,
that–[e] is phonetically equivalent to that–[u] (cf. (74)). In short, the that–trace effect seems to be
the result of a constraint like (35).16
Given the above, suppose we specify the domain of an overt free resident and permanent resident
as (79) and add the general condition (80) to the grammar.
(79) Residential Domains (RD).
a. The RD of an overt free resident includes all the items it L–commands.

b. The RD of a permanent resident includes all items it C–commands.
(80) THE [e]–BINDING CONDITION (EBC).
[e] (=trace) cannot reside in an RD bound to a referent outside that RD.

546 Chapter Eight
Given the above, consider now the following outline of various constraints that have appeared in the
literature as various conditions over the past thirty years or so.
(81) Chomsky and Lasnik’s that–Trace Filter (Chomsky and Lasnik 1977: 451).
a. *Whoi did he say that [e]i bought the house?
b. Whoi did he say Øs [e]i bought the house?
c. In finite indirect statements, there is no loss of clausal integrity if the complementizer

that alternates with Øs; hence, it is usually a free resident. When it does occur, it is
a barrier to binding. In (81a), [e] is L–commanded by the free resident that so the
sentence is ungrammatical. When Øs is present, binding is not blocked.
(82) Ross’ Sentential Subject Constraint (Ross, J.: 1986: 147 ff.).
a. *Whati will that Bill bought [e]i upset Sue?
b. The complementizer that is a permanent resident of sentential subjects (*Øs Bill

bought the car upset Sue). It cannot be empty (Øs) without loss of clausal integrity.
In (82a), [e] is in the domain of the permanent resident that.
(83) Chomsky’s/Ross’ wh–island condition (Chomsky 1973, 1977; Ross, J. 1986).
a. *Whati did he ask if Bill bought [e]i?
b. Indirect questions must have an overt clause trigger (WH–phrase or complementizer)

as a permanent resident (*I wonder he went). Words like whether and if and
phrases like into which building and for what man cannot be omitted because they
have heavy semantic content. In (83a), [e] is in the domain of the permanent resident
if.
c. *Whoi did he quip that Bill couldn’t date [e]i?
d. Ross notes that, for some speakers, the complementizer that is obligatory after verbs
like quip, chortle, whisper, etc., that is, it is a permanent resident. In (83c), [e] is in
the domain of the permanent resident that.
(84) Ross’ Complex NP Constraint (Ross, J. 1986: 75 ff.).
a. *Whati did he believe the claim that I saw [e]i?
b. The [e] above is in the domain of the permanent resident that (cf. *He believes the
claim Ø I saw Bill).
Chapter Eight 547
(85) Chomsky’s Specified Subject Condition (Chomsky 1973, 1977).
a. Whoi did you see Ød pictures of [e]?

b. ?Whoi did you see the pictures of [e]?
c. *Whoi did you see John’s pictures of [e]?
d. In the above, [e] is in the domain of the determiner, a free resident of N3 with
common noun heads. The heavier the determiner, the worse the sentence becomes.
As we have seen, this constraint should be replaced with a broader constraint that
covers embedded V3 as well as N3, namely, the SHC.
(86) Ross’ Left Branch Condition (Ross, J. 1986: 127 ff.).
a. *Whosei did he date [e]i sister? ([whosei did he date [N3 [e]i POS [N0 sister]]])
b. As above in (85), all N3 with common noun heads must have either a DET or POS.
In (86a), [e] is in the domain of POS, a permanent resident.
As the above analyses indicate, if we take a nonmovement approach seriously, we can relate an
interesting array of facts directly to the linear and hierarchical structure of phrases. Since it has been
known for many years that linear and hierarchical structure in essential for effective parsing (Miller
1956; Graf and Torrey 1966; Mandler 1967; Hakes and Foss 1970; Johnson, N. 1970, 1972; Jarvella
1971; Tulving and Psotka 1971; Caplan 1972; Dempster 1978; Hess and Radtke 1981; Anderson,
J. R. 1985), it is not surprising that language contains constraints to facilitate comprehension. An
important feature of the above analyses is that we have been able to generalize these constraints over
a broad range of N3 and V3 structures.
8.2 WORD ORDER VARIATIONS AND WORD ORDER CONSTRAINTS.
As we have seen in the preceding sections, structural analyses involving no syntactic movement
rules can effectively describe a wide range of constructions. On the other hand, one might argue that
such a nonmovement approach to grammar will fail because some languages allow considerable
variation in word order, the so–called nonconfigurational languages, and other languages demand
specific orders in specific contexts. In this Section, we will consider five such potentially
problematic cases beginning with relative clauses in English.
8.2.1 RELATIVE CLAUSES IN ENGLISH.
We turn first to a more detailed consideration of WH–clauses in English, in particular, restrictive

and nonrestrictive (appositive) relative clauses and direct and indirect WH-questions. Our goal is
to find an explanation for the fact that the mode characterizer (AUX) precedes the subject in direct
WH–questions, whereas it follows the subject in indirect WH–questions and relative clauses:
548 Chapter Eight
(87) a. Direct WH–questions: Who should he call?
b. Indirect WH–questions: I wonder who he should call.
c. Relative Clause: the person who he should call
In addition, for relative clauses, our goal will be to account for that fact that restrictive relative
clauses can be triggered by a complementizer (that or Ø) or a relative pronoun (which, who, etc.),
whereas appositive relative clauses can only be triggered by an overt relative pronoun.
To begin, consider the restrictive relative clauses in (88), where Ø is a phonologically null
complementizer and the referent for the relative pronoun is in boldface:
(88) a. That picture is [N3 the picture of each other which the men want to save].
[N3 the [N2 [N2 [N1 [N0 picture] of each other]]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 Ø]
[V3 [N3 the men] PRS [V1 [V0 want] to save [e]i ]]]]]
b. That picture is [N3 the picture of each other that the men want to save].
[N3 the [N2 [N2 [N1 [N0 picture] of each other]]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that]
c. That picture is [N3 the picture of each other the men want to save].
[N3 the [N2 [N2 [N1 [N0 picture] of each other]]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø]
The postulated structures in (88) derive from four individual observations.
First, notice that the determination of the antecedent of the [e] depends on a special set of principles
peculiar to relative clauses. In restrictive relatives like the above, the [e] refers to the N2 constituent
to which it is sister adjoined; in appositive relatives, to the N3 constituent to which it is sister
adjoined.17 The reason for the structural difference is that restrictive relative pronouns, unlike
appositive relative pronouns, cannot reference X3 level elements like quantifiers (for discussion, see
Jackendoff 1977: Chapter Seven). Consider the following adapted from Binkert 1984: 43–44:
(89) Restrictive Relative Clauses.
a. all the [operas of Verdi’s]i whichi/that/Ø the critics discussed [e]i

b. all those [many books]i whichi/that/Ø I have read [e]i
c. all the [children]i whomi/that/Ø she liked [e]i very much
Chapter Eight 549
(90) Appositive Relative Clauses.
a. [all the operas of Verdi’s]i whichi/*that/*Ø the critics discussed [e]i

b. [all those many books]i whichi/*that/*Ø I have read [e]i
c. [all the children]i whomi/*that/*Ø she liked [e]i very much
These data indicate that only appositive relatives can reference a phrase containing an X3 level
quantifier like all. Specifically, in an example like (89a), the critics did not discuss all the operas
of Verdi, whereas in (90a) they did. Accordingly, as we indicated above and in Chapter Three (Page
165), restrictive relatives reference an N2, whereas appositive relatives reference an N3. Consider
the following additional examples and the analyses provided:
(91) a. All those guys at the bar, who were minors, were arrested.
[N3 [N3 all those [N2 guys at the bar] ] [V3 who were minors] ] were arrested.
‘All those guys at the bar were minors and all were arrested.’
b. All those guys at the bar who were minors were arrested.
[N3 all those [N2 [N2 guys at the bar] [V3 who were minors] ] ] were arrested.
‘Of those guys at the bar, only the minors were arrested.’
Observe that the appositive relative clause in (91a), who were minors, is sister adjoined to an N3
which includes the quantifier all and the determiner those, whereas the restrictive relative clause in
(91b), who were minors, is sister adjoined to an N2 which does not include the quantifier all and the
determiner those. This structural difference accounts for the meaning difference indicated; in
particular, only the appositive relative references the quantifier all and the determiner those, so only
the appositive relative pronoun who refers to all those guys at the bar.
The above analysis extends to other X3 level versus X2 level elements. Recall that the prehead
possessive phrase in English is an X3 level constituent, whereas the double possessive construction
is an X2 level constituent. We see this verified in the following:
(92) a. John’s students, whom I’ve met, are excellent.

b. *John’s students that I’ve met are excellent.
(93) a. Those students of John’s, whom I’ve met, are excellent.

b. Those students of John’s that I’ve met are excellent.
c. Those students that I’ve met of John’s are excellent.
Consistent with the above analysis is that fact that restrictive relative clauses cannot reference a
proper noun or pronoun, whereas appositive relative clauses can:
550 Chapter Eight
(94) a. *Sue/she that is the best student in the class will get an A.
b. Sue/she, who is the best student in the class, will get an A.
The explanation for (94) is that proper nouns and pronouns are themselves N3 constituents which
cannot be specified or modified as we saw in Chapter Three, Page 172:
(95) a. *A tall Sue married a short Al.

b. *A tall she married a short him.
The second observation embodied in the structures in (88) concerns the relationship between the
referent for the relative pronoun (picture of each other), the relative pronoun itself (whether overt
or empty), and the “missing” object of the verb save. As we saw above, this “chain of binding” is
defined as follows:18
syntactic feature matrices, if X dominates a fully specified lexical item, [e], or a
WH–phrase, if X C–commands Y, and if Y is an anaphor.
a chain and if Y and Z form a chain (Y=Y). The most deeply embedded unit of the
chain is the “terminal chain unit”; the least deeply embedded is the “initial chain
unit.”
In (88a), the phrases picture of each other, which, and [e] form a linked chain:
(97) [N3 [picture of each other]i – [V3 [which]i – [Ø] – [V3 ...[e]i... ] ] ]
X Y Z
Restrictive relatives with that or Ø have the same analysis, that is, in (88b) and (88c), the phrases
picture of each other and the two occurrences of [e] form a linked chain:
(98) [N3 [picture of each other]i – [V3 [u] – [that/Ø] – [V3 ...[e]i... ] ] ]
X Y Z
The unique aspects of relative clauses are the binding relationships that exists between X and Y in
(97) and between X and Z in (98). In appositive relatives and in restrictive relatives with an overt
WH–phrase, (97) applies: there is a binding relationship between Y and Z, which is the same
relationship that exists in direct WH–questions; and a binding relationship between X and Y, which
is a one of the relationships unique to relative clauses. In appositive relatives, Y is bound to a sister
adjoined N3 (X=N3); in restrictive relatives, Y is bound to a sister adjoined N2 (X=N2) The direct
binding between X and Z in (98) occurs independently in infinitival relatives like the following
where there is, in effect, no Y (cf. (186), Chapter Seven, Page 513):
Chapter Eight 551
(99) a. the mani to direct [e]i/[u]
b. the mani to admire [e]i/*[u]
c. the mani to sing *[e]i/[u]
d. the songi to sing [e]i/*[u]
e. the mani to meet [e]i/*[u]
f. the meni to meet [e]i/[u]
There is, however, a problem with the structure (98), namely, the [e] (Z) would have to be bound
to a referent (X) outside its RD violating (80). Interestingly, this problem accounts for the fact that
appositive relative clauses cannot be triggered by the complementizer that (*Paris, that is in France,
is a beautiful city). The DTC discussed above stipulates that the extended neighborhood cannot
contain more that one overt clause trigger. As a result, that is a possible clause trigger only if the
relative pronoun is phonologically empty. However, in such a structure like (98), the [e] would be
bound to a referent outside its domain; hence, the empty relative pronoun cannot occur there.
Instead, an overt relative pronoun must occur as in (97), which entails that that cannot occur. There
is no restriction that prevents which from being bound outside its RD, only [e]. Further, note that
appositive relatives cannot be triggered by Ø either (*Paris, Ø I visited last year, is in France). This
structure is ruled out by the English Noun Phrase Constraint (NPC; Page 180 ff.) which stipulates
that the head of a noun phrase must be separated from a posthead phrase by an overt marker such
as a preposition or a complementizer.
Unfortunately, the exact opposite is true of restrictive relative clauses, which can be triggered by
either that or Ø. In fact, restrictive relative clauses are aberrant for all of the following reasons:
(100) a. Restrictive relative clauses do not show that–trace effects:

[N3 [the book]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that] [V3 [e]i is on the table]
b. Restrictive relative clause do not allow Ø, when [e] is a SUBJECT:

*[N3 [the book]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø] [V3 [e]i is on the table]
c. Restrictive relative clauses can be triggered by the complementizer that:

[N3 [the book]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that] [V3 he wrote [e]i ]
d. Restrictive relative clauses allow Ø, when [e] is a PCOMP, SCOMP, or MOD:

[N3 [the book]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø] [V3 he wrote [e]i ]
We have already provided a possible account of (100a), namely, why that-trace does not lead to
ungrammaticality in restrictive relatives; see above Section 8.1.3, Page 542 ff. Putting aside (100b)
for the moment, consider the problems in (100c) and (100d), which allow [e] to be bound to a
referent outside of its RD. This is the problem just discussed for appositive relatives. Essentially,
the problem must lie in the specification of the RD for restrictive relative clauses as opposed to the
specification of the RD for appositive relative clauses. There are two factors which bear on these
specifications.
552 Chapter Eight
First, recall that restrictive relative clauses reference N2 level phrases. They cannot reference a
phrase that includes X3 level constituents like determiners or quantifiers; therefore, they cannot
reference proper nouns or pronouns which are full N3 with no determiners or quantifiers possible
on their internal N3 level. Appositive relative clauses, on the other hand, reference N3 level phrases
that include X3 level constituents like determiners and quantifiers; therefore, they can reference a
full N3 with a proper noun or pronoun head.
Second, although they cannot reference DET, restrictive relative clauses must be cued by a DET:
(101) a. the man that no one knew

b. a man that no one knew
c. Ø men that no one knew
(102) a. *she that no one knew

b. *Sue that no one knew
c. *her son that no one knew
(103) a. Sue ,whom no one knew,

b. she ,whom no one knew,
c. her son ,whom no one knew,
Given that a restrictive relative clause must be cued by a determiner which it cannot reference (the
determiner C–commands the relative clause, but the relative clause does not C–command the
determiner), it seems reasonable to assume that the RD of a restrictive relative clause is set by the
determiner, a permanent resident, and not by the relative pronoun or complementizer. Accepting
this assumption, we account for (100c) and (100d) since the [e] is then bound inside of its RD.
Returning to the main examples in (88), the phrase (picture of each other), which C–commands the
relatives, is interpreted as the object of save. As a result, the reciprocal pronoun, which is
R–commanded by its referent the men, is accounted for even though the overt reciprocal occurs
before its referent. Similarly, we account for the following where one references picture of herself:
(104) a. [N3 the picture of herself/*her which Bill told Mary to frame] is this one.
[V3 [N3 the [N2 [N2 [N1 [N0 picture] of herself]]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 Ø]
[V3 [N3 Bill] PRS [V1 [V0 told] [N3 Mary] to frame [e]i ]]]]] is [N3 this [N2 one]i ]]
b. [N3 the picture of herself/*her that Bill told Mary to frame] is this one.
[V3 [N3 the [N2 [N2 [N1 [N0 picture] of herself]]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that]
Chapter Eight 553
c. [N3 the picture of herself/*her Bill told Mary to frame] is this one.
[V3 [N3 the [N2 [N2 [N1 [N0 picture] of herself]]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø]
The third observation incorporated into the structures in (88) concerns the distinction made between
the relative pronoun and the complementizer. Following Bresnan 1972, we have analyzed the word
that introducing relative clauses like (88b) as a complementizer, not a relative pronoun. Notice that
it does not pied pipe whereas the relative pronoun does:
(105) a. the story that he attaches such importance to

b. *the story to that he attaches such importance
(106) a. the story which he attaches such importance to

b. the story to which he attaches such importance
This asymmetry derives from the different types of phrases that prepositions can and cannot govern.
For example, prepositions can govern pronouns freely:
(107) a. He talked about himself.

b. He gave it to her.
c. She has a problem with somebody.
d. She ran away from WHAT? (echo question)
Further, prepositions can govern all types of noun phrases, including those with understood heads:
(108) a. He attaches more importance to [N3 that [N0 story]].

b. He attaches more importance to [N3 John’s [N0 winning the primary]].
c. He attaches more importance to [N3 that [N0 u]].
d. He attaches more importance to [N3 those [N0 u]] than to [N3 these [N0 u]].
However, prepositions cannot govern phrases introduced by complementizers, whether or not one
analyzes the complementizer as a head:
(109) a. *He attaches too much importance to [ that [John won the primary]].
b. *He attaches too much importance to [ if [John wins the primary]].
In many places in this book (see especially Page 195 ff.), we have shown that all occurrences of that
share the features [–VBL, –NML, –OPH, –OCL, +X3L, –X2L, –X1L, +PRH, –PSH, "ENH,
–"EVH, –ECH]. There is no reason to suppose that the word that found in relatives is a unique use
of that which does not share these features.
As the data in (88) indicate, relative clauses can be introduced by, at most, one overt element, either
a WH–phrase or the complementizer that. Thus, the relative V3 parallels the structures discussed
554 Chapter Eight
in (9). Without restrictions, the following possible combinations occur taking which to be our
example:
(110) a. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 that] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
b. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 Ø] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
c. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
d. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
Given the above, two possibilities must be ruled out. First, we must prevent the occurrence of both
an overt WH–phrase and an overt complementizer, something we have already achieved with the
DTC (20).19 Next, in the structures (110), we must rule out the absence of an overt clause trigger
when a subject is relativized:
(111) a. The man who/that just came in is a famous violinist.

b. *The man just came in is a famous violinist.
In Section 8.1, in connection with garden path sentences, we discussed this restriction attributing
it to the following constraint from Chomsky and Lasnik 1997: 434–5 (see (35) above):
(112) In analyzing a construction C, given a structure that can stand as an independent clause,
take it to be the main clause of C.
The problem with (111b) is that it violates (112) because the sequence the man just came in can be
interpreted as a main clause. In such cases, the overt complementizer, a cueing device, cannot be
omitted. This accounts for the last problem in (100), namely, (100b).
We may view the obligatory presence of the complementizer (that or Ø) in restrictive relative
clauses as indicative of the fact that such clauses are actually statements even though they can be
introduced by WH–phrases. Notice that there is nothing interrogative about relative clauses; they
introduce statements, not questions, as the following contrasts indicate:
(113) a. Someone/*Anyone must have read the book.

b. Did anyone read the book?
c. the book which someone/*anyone read
(114) a. *They have ever seen the play.

b. Have they ever seen the play?
c. *the play which they have ever seen
Furthermore, the V3 statements in relative clauses are factive (Kiparsky and Kiparsky 1971).
(115) a. I believe that Sue married a doctor. (Does not entail that Sue married a doctor.)
b. I wonder if Sue married a doctor. (Does not entail that Sue married a doctor.)
Chapter Eight 555
c. I know that Sue married a doctor. (Entails that Sue married a doctor.)
d. the doctor that Sue married... (Entails that Sue married a doctor.)
Thus, relative clauses appear to be a blend of the two major types of embedded tensed V3 discussed
in Section 8.1.1 (cf. (21)): tensed V3 introduced by the complementizer associated with statements
(that) and tensed V3 introduced by phrases associated with questions (WH–phrases).
Returning to the main discussion, the fourth observation incorporated into (88) involves the fact that
the WH–phrases (overt or [u]) reside in the extended neighborhood. Since the extended
neighborhood must be one X3 up from the immediate neighborhood, dislocated expressions,
topicalized expressions, and the like cannot occur to the right of a clause trigger as we have seen:
(116) a. *What, that man, did he go to see?

b. *What to him did she read?
(117) a. *I wonder what that man he read.

b. *I wonder what to him she read.
(118) a. *I believed that/Ø that man he went.

b. *I think that/Ø to him she read the story.
(119) a. *That that man he went is odd.

b. *That to him she read the story is odd.
(120) a. *The claim that that man he read the book is unsubstantiated.
b. *The claim that to him she read the book is unsubstantiated.
(121) a. *The book which that man he read is a best seller.

b. *The book which to him she read is a best seller.
(122) a. *The book that that man he read is a best seller.

b. *The book that to him she read is a best seller.
Now notice that an inverted20 mode characterizer must also be in the extended neighborhood; there
is no other way to position the mode characterizer before the subject. Accordingly, we also cannot
have dislocated phrases and topicalized expressions “below” the extended neighborhood in direct
yes/no questions:
(123) a. *Did that man he go to the movies?

b. *Did to him she read the book?
We now have an explanation for why inversion does not occur in relative clauses. Since the
extended neighborhood already contains an X3 level prehead characterizer, the mode characterizer
cannot occur there: the position is filled with that or Ø. The reasoning here may seem similar to
556 Chapter Eight
current explanations with Verb Movement except that there are critical differences. In Chapter
Three (Page 196 ff.), I presented six arguments against the DP/CP analysis. The sixth argument
(Page 201) involved the fact that the Verb Movement analysis allows verbs to move into COMP
position; when COMP is filled, a verb cannot move there. I objected to this analysis saying that it
distorts English phrase structure and undermines basic principles of reference and categorization.
I am not now reversing myself. Recall that the mode characterizer in English contains the Support
Verb (SV; see Page 208) and has the following structure:
(124) He can go.

[V3 he [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 can ]] [C0 MDE]]] [V0 go]]
The head of the mode characterizer is an abstract category which shares all twelve of the same
syntactic features with that and Ø:
(125) [–VBL, –NML, –OPH, –OCL, +X3L, –X2L, –X1L, +PRH, –PSH, –ENH, +EVH, –ECH]
Given (125), I am not postulating the movement of a verb into COMP; rather, I am postulating
something much more straightforward. English distinguishes direct statements from direct questions
by the positioning of the overt mode characterizer relative to the subject as follows:21
(126) a. Direct Statement.

[V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 can ]] [C0 MDE]]] [V0 go]]
b. Direct Question.
[V3 [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 can ]] [C0 MDE]]]i [V3 [N3 he] [e]i [V0 go]]]
In (126a) the overt mode characterizer is in the immediate neighborhood; in (126b), it is in the
extended neighborhood. Complementizers always reside in the extended neighborhood (they never
reside “below” tense). Thus, complementizers occupy the same residence as the inverted mode
characterizer. Since two things cannot be in the same spot at the same time, when one is there the
other can’t be. Since relative clauses require a complementizer, they do not involve inversion.
Notice that the account here is not a notational variation of movement analyses although it
incorporates the significant observation of the Verb Movement approach, namely, that inversion
cannot occur when a complementizer is present. The differences between a movement analysis and
the analysis presented here are critical. The theory of universal grammar we have proposed does
not allow disparate categories to occupy the same position. All versions of a movement analysis that
I have seen do. In the present framework, there is a specific reason why the mode characterizer
cannot invert when there is a complementizer: both categories occupy the same residence because
they are both characterizers.
We may, in fact, be able to extend the present analysis to include the inversion that does occur in
direct questions and after some negative phrases. Suppose we say that the mode characterizer is
“attracted” to the extended neighborhood when it contained a quantificational N3 (WH–phrase or
Chapter Eight 557
negative phrase; see also Page 585 below). The structures involved are the following, where [u] is
a phonologically empty WH–trigger (the residents of the extended neighborhood are in boldface;
starred examples are ruled out by one of the conditions on representation we have proposed):
(127) a. Direct WH–questions:

[V3 [N3 whati] [C3 didj] [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [e]j] [V1 say [N3 e]i ] ] ]
b. Direct Yes/No Questions:

[V3 [N3 [u]] [C3 didj] [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [e]j] [V1 say [N3 such a thing] ] ] ]
c. Initial Negative Operators:

[V3 [N3 never] [C3 didj] [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [e]j] [V1 say [N3 such a thing] ] ] ]
d. Relative Clauses:
*[N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 that] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
[N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 Ø] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
[N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
[N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
e. Indirect WH–questions:
*He asked [V3 [N3 whether] [C3 if] [V3 John going ]] ]]
He asked [V3 [N3 whether] [C3 Ø] [V3 John going ]] ]]
He asked [V3 [N3 u] [C3 if] [V3 John going ]] ]]
*He asked [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø] [V3 John going ]] ]]
The “attraction” cannot occur in relative clauses or indirect WH–questions (see the next Section)
because the position is filled with a complementizer. In fact, perhaps the larger generality is that
a quantificational N3 in the extended neighborhood, being a bound phrase, requires a sister C3
(either complementizer or mode). The key of course is that the N3 exhibit properties of scope since
we do not get inversion in cases of Topicalization (This book you must read/*This book must you
read). While there is no inversion in N3 paralleling V3, it is worthwhile to note that the above
structures do have their parallel in noun phrases:
(128) a. Quantifiers followed by determiners:

[N3 [N3 all] [C3 that] stuff]
[N3 [N3 which] [C3 Ø] stuff]
b. Possessives:
[N3 [N3 John] [C3 POS] stuff]
[N3 [N3 whose] [C3 POS] stuff]
8.2.2 DIRECT AND INDIRECT QUESTIONS IN ENGLISH.

558 Chapter Eight
Consider now the fact that direct questions in English require an inversion of the subject N3 and the
mode characterizer, whereas indirect questions maintain the usual order of declaratives. In Chapter
Three (Page 232), we suggested that the structure for direct WH–questions is the following:
(129) a. Whati couldj they [e]j have bought [e]i?

b. [V3 [N3 what]i [C3 could]j [V3 [N3 they] [e]j [V3 have [V1 [V0 bought] [e]i]] ]]
Indirect questions like the following show no inversion:
(130) a. I know whati they could have bought [e]i?

b. [V3 I know [V3 [N3 what]i [V3 [N3 they] [C3 could] [V3 have [V1 [V0 bought] [e]i]]]]]
(131) a. I wonder if they could have bought that car?

b. [V3 I wonder [V3 [C3 if] [V3 [N3 they] [C3 could] [V3 have [V1 [V0 bought] [that car]]]]]]
On the other hand, direct and indirect questions have many characteristics in common. Both allow
pied piping, although indirect questions with pied pipping sound somewhat formal (see Quirk, R.
et al. 1985: 1051):
(132) a. Who did she write to?

b. To whom did she write?
(133) a. He asked/told me whom she had written to?

b. He asked/told me to whom she had written?
(134) a. He wondered/knew whom she had gone with.22

b. He wondered/knew with whom she had gone.
Both direct and indirect questions admit indefinites like anyone, anybody, anything, etc. and
temporal quantifiers like ever, yet, any longer, etc., whereas such expressions cannot occur in
corresponding statements:
(135) a. Has anyone read that book?

b. I wonder if anyone has read that book.
c. *Anyone has read that book.
(136) a. Has he finished painting the house yet?

b. I wonder if he has finished painting the house yet.
c. *He has finished painting the house yet.
To account for the above data, suppose we further extend the analysis of the generalized structures
in (9). Recall that we proposed the following structures for relative clauses in the last section:
Chapter Eight 559
(137) a. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 that] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
b. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 which]i [C3 Ø] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
c. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 that] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
d. [N3 the [N2 [N2 books]i [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Ø] [V3 I read [e]i ]]]]
Paralleling this analysis of relative clauses, we have postulated (cf. (9)) that indirect questions also
must always have a complementizer as follows (recall that each V3 level always contains a
complementizer in accordance with the XCC (cf. (31)):23
(138) a. He asked [V3 [N3 whether] [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
b. He asked [V3 [N3 whether] [C3 Øq] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
c. He asked [V3 [N3 u] [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
d. He asked [V3 [N3 u] [C3 Øq] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
The DTC (44) will rule out (138a). Further, for reasons discussed in Section 8.1.1 (see especially
Page 533), indirect questions must contain at least one overt clause trigger; hence (138d) is ruled
out.
Accepting the above structures, we revise (130) to the following:
(139) a. I know whati they could have bought [e]i?

b. [V3 I know [V3 [N3 what]i [C3 Ø] [V3 [N3 they] [C3 could] [V3 have [V1 [V0 bought] [e]i]] ]]]
In a structure like (139b), inversion cannot occur because there is no position in the extended
neighborhood for the mode characterizer. The EBC (80), repeated here for convenience as (140),
accounts for all the ungrammatical examples in (141).
(140) THE [e]–BINDING CONDITION (EBC).
(141) a. *Whomj does she know whati they have bought [e]i for [e]j?
b. *Whoi does she think that [e]i bought that car?
c. *Whati did she quip that he would end up buying [e]i?
d. *Whati did she believe the claim that he bought [e]i?
On the other hand, the following are grammatical because [e] is not in an RD:
(142) a. Whoi did she think [e]i bought that car?

b. Whati did she think that he would end up buying [e]i?
560 Chapter Eight
8.2.3 NONCONFIGURATIONAL LANGUAGES; SCRAMBLING IN LATIN.
There seem to be clear cases of languages in which the order of sentential elements like subject (S),
verb (V), and object (O) cannot be related to phrasal architecture. Consider the following Latin
sentence which can occur in the six variations specified.
(143) Marcus Publium amat. ‘Marcus loves Publius.’
a. SVO: Marcus amat Publium.

b. SOV: Marcus Publium amat.
c. VOS: Amat Publium Marcus.
d. VSO: Amat Marcus Publium.
e. OVS: Publium amat Marcus.
f. OSV: Publium Marcus amat.
Allowing the variations for the subject and object in prehead and posthead positions, a basic three
level phrasal architecture in which specifiers must C–command modifiers and modifiers must
C–command complements will produce only the following orders, ignoring the mode characterizer
for the moment:
(144) a. SVO.
[V3 [N3 Marcus] – [V1 [V0 amat] – [N3 Publium]] ]
b. SOV.
[V3 [N3 Marcus] – [V1 [N3 Publium] – [V0 amat]] ]
c. VOS.
[V3 [V1 [V0 amat] – [N3 Publium]] – [N3 Marcus] ]
d. OVS.
[V3 [V1 [N3 Publium] – [V0 amat]] – [N3 Marcus] ]
However, if we allow the order of [+NML] and [–NML] categories to be free and further allow verbs
to be embedded in the mode characterizer as the SV when a language is highly inflected (see
Chapter Three), then all six of the possible orders can be represented in our system. Notice that the
V1 constituent in all of the alternatives in (145) is the same. Further, the subject is always a V3
constituent and the internal structure of the mode characterizer is always the same.
(145) a. SVO.
[V3 [N3 Marcus] – [C3[C0[V3[V0 amat]i][C0 PRS]]] – [V1[N3 Publium][V0 [e]i]] ]
b. SOV.
[V3 [N3 Marcus] – [V1[N3 Publium][V0 [e]i]] – [C3[C0[V3[V0 amat]i][C0 PRS]]] ]
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c. VOS.
[V3 [C3[C0[V3[V0 amat]i][C0 PRS]]] – [V1[N3 Publium][V0 [e]i]] – [N3 Marcus] ]
d. VSO.
[V3 [C3[C0[V3[V0 amat]i][C0 PRS]]] – [N3 Marcus] – [V1[N3 Publium][V0 [e]i]] ]
e. OVS.
[V3 [V1[N3 Publium][V0 [e]i]] – [C3[C0[V3[V0 amat]i][C0 PRS]]] – [N3 Marcus] ]
f. OSV.
[V3 [V1[N3 Publium][V0 [e]i]] – [N3 Marcus] – [C3[C0[V3[V0 amat]i][C0 PRS]]] ]
What is varying in the above structures is the order of the mode characterizer, the subject N3 and
the V1 as follows:
(146) Marcus Publium amat. ‘Marcus loves Publius.’
a. SVO: Marcus amat Publium. [V3 N3 – C3 – V1]

b. SOV: Marcus Publium amat. [V3 N3 – V1 – C3]
c. VOS: Amat Publium Marcus. [V3 C3 – V1 – N3]
d. VSO: Amat Marcus Publium. [V3 C3 – N3 – V1]
e. OVS: Publium amat Marcus. [V3 V1 – C3 – N3]
f. OSV: Publium Marcus amat. [V3 V1 – N3 – C3]
In Chapter Four (Page 265), we proposed the following frames to account for the nominative case
of the subject and the accusative case for the object in English:
(147) ENGLISH SUBJECT FRAME:
(148) ENGLISH OBJECT FRAME:
[X1 X0 – [N3 [N0 [2CAS]]] ]
Word order variations in Latin aside, it is clear that the English subject frame is essentially the Latin
subject frame. To recap the discussion in Chapter Four (Page 265), following Binkert 1984: 210,
I use the symbol “4” in place of “–” to indicate that constituents to the left and the right can occur
in any order. Given that and incorporating the SV analysis, we have the following Latin subject and
object frames which are identical in all important aspects to the English subject and object frame:
(149) LATIN SUBJECT FRAME:
[V3 [N3 [N0 ["NUM, $PER, 1CAS]]] 4 [C3 [C0 [(MDE, "NUM, $PER]]] 4 V0 ]
562 Chapter Eight
(150) LATIN OBJECT FRAME:
[X1 X0 4 [N3 [N0 [2CAS]]] ]
Thus, we need not postulate any movement rules to obtain the six possible orders that occur in a
simple Latin clause. Further, the symbol “4” allows the Latin object frame to apply in V1, in which
cases the object normally precedes the governing verb, as well as in P1, in which case the object
normally follows the governing preposition, or to the reverse situations in less typical examples of
V1 and P1.
By allowing [+NML] and [–NML] categories to freely occur in either prehead or posthead positions
we can also account for variations like the following:
(151) ducentes fortes milites ‘those two–hundred brave soldiers’
a. ducentes fortes milites

b. ducentes milites fortes
c. fortes ducentes milites
d. fortes milites ducentes
e. milites fortes ducentes
f. milites ducentes fortes
Since all of the elements in the above alternatives are marked by the same case, number, and gender,
the integrity of the phrase is preserved in each variation.
The relaxation of ordering restrictions seen in the above examples accounts for the overwhelming
majority of variations seen in classical prose.24 Still, the notion that words in a Latin sentence can
be issued in any order whatsoever is simply untrue. Moreover, it makes no sense: Romans had
human brains like the rest of us. A sentence like (152) is impossible in the form (153).
(152) Puer qui pulcher est puellam quae pulchra est amat.
boy who handsome is girl who pretty is loves
‘The boy who is handsome loves the girl who is pretty.’
(153) *Puer puellam pulcher pulchra qui quae est est amat.
Similarly, the first two lines of Vergil’s Aeneid given in (154) cannot be reversed as (155), not
because the result is unpoetic, which it admittedly is even though the lines still scan, but because
clause and phrase boundaries cannot be crossed in such a manner.
Chapter Eight 563
(154) Arma virum que cano Troiae qui primus ab oris
arms man and I sing of Troy who first from coasts
Italiam fato profogus Lavina que venit

Italy fate exiled Lavinian and came
litora...
shores
‘I sing of arms and the man who first, exiled by fate, came from the coasts of Troy to Italy
and the Lavinian shores...’
(155) Italiam fato profogus Lavinaque venit

arma virumque cano Troiae qui primus ab oris
litora...
The position of Troiae in (154), which occurs to the left of the WH–clause of which it is part, is not
very common in Latin and might be attributable to some kind of topicalization. Interestingly, the
caesura of the first line falls between the words cano and Troiae, indicating that a pause should
separate the two words. Indeed, in his description of these lines, Quintilian (XI, iii, 36) tells us that
there must be a pause both before Troiae and after oris, and, further, that fato profugus is
parenthetical and must also be surrounded by pauses. Thus, we have it on the authority of a native
speaker that the extant word order of the first few lines of the Aeneid was unusual and required
adjustments by speakers. Given the representations of Latin above and such processes as
topicalization and parenthesis, it appears that we might be able to account for such unusual examples
without scrambling rules.
On the other hand, we have even more dramatic variations in word order like the following from one
of Dido’s importunate speeches to Aeneas in Book IV:
(156) Per ego has lacrimas ... te ... oro ...

with I these tears you beg ...
‘With these tears, I beg you ...’ (Vergil, Aeneid, IV, 314–319)
The intraposition of the subject of a sentence between a preposition and its object is very unusual,
but, as the above indicates, it does occur.25 I believe that this particular example can be related to
Dido’s state of mind: having learned that Aeneas is planning to leave her, she is at this point in the
book delirious and hysterical. In fact, the more desperate she is in Book IV, the more the word order
of her speeches to Aeneas becomes skewed. For example, in the cited passage the subject and the
verb are separated by multiple parenthetical phrases totaling thirty–six words, a stretch that was
clearly beyond the STM capacity of Romans. What makes such a sentence possible is that the Latin
verb is itself marked for person, so that when the verb oro finally arrives six lines after ego, the
subject is, in effect, repeated. Interestingly, Vergil places the verb oro at the beginning of the line
in which it occurs, an emphatic position.
564 Chapter Eight
The ultimate question is, How can an example like (156) be accounted for? It would appear that
some type of scrambling operation is essential for such examples; yet, even if this turns out to be
the case, we can say that scrambling occurs within the phonological component perhaps as a stylistic
variation. Alternatively and, I believe, preferably, we may postulate that languages contain
“targeted” movement rules which position sentential constituents in specific ways for specific
effects. For example, in Latin, “[a] favorite word order with the poets is the interlocked, by which
the attribute of one pair comes between the parts of the other (synchysis)” (Allen and Greenough
1931: 398). We have such an example also from the opening of the Aeneid:
(157) saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram

cruel mindful Juno on account of wrath
‘on account of the endless (mindful) wrath of cruel Juno’ (Vergil, Aeneid, I, 4)
Given the special nature of word order variations like the interlocked order, we may ask whether the
rules that effect such an order are part of grammar at all. My intuition is that they are not, that the
variations that are possible in everyday Latin are the result of the mechanisms discussed above,
namely, a free ordering of [+NML] and [–NML] categories, topicalization, and parenthesis.
Without a native speaker on hand, it is difficult to determine the limits within which sentential
elements could be varied in Latin. One thing is clear: the notion that Latin is a free word order
language is simply false. Moreover, the possible variations should not be the result of an operation
like Move–" (Chomsky 1981) or Move (Chomsky 1995) that applies prior to the phonological
component.
I believe that similar remarks are appropriate for other languages with “free word order” like
Japanese. Consider the following examples from Kuno (1983: 3–4):
(158) a. John–ga Mary–o but–ta.

John–nominative Mary–accusative hit
‘John hit Mary.’
b. Mary–o John–ga but–ta.
c. *John–ga but–ta Mary–o.
d. *But–ta John–ga Mary–o.
According to Kuno (1983:4), (158c) and (158d) are ungrammatical “because they violate the
Verb–Final Constraint.” With regard to (158b), Kuno (1983, Page 4, Note 3) offers the following
comment: “According to a large–scale statistical study of sentence structure conducted by the
National Language Research Institute, Tokyo, Japan, the ratio of frequencies of occurrences between
the SOV word order and the OSV word order in Japanese is 17 to 1.” Given that, there are two ways
that we might account for (158b).
Chapter Eight 565
First, we might say that the (158b) is the result of topicalization, which does not require a syntactic
movement rule given the analysis we presented in Chapter Six, Section 6.3.6, p. 437 ff. On the other
hand, the direct object of a Japanese verb is overtly marked (usually with –o as above). Thus, its
position in (158b) could also be the result of a targeted movement rule analogous to ego in (156).
In either case, the data do not entail movement rules within the syntax (for further discussion of the
relevant issues, see also Farmer, A. 1984 and Miyagawa 1989b).
Other word order variations in Japanese can be accounted for by relaxing the constraints on the order
of [+NML] and [–NML] categories as we suggested above for Latin. Consider examples like the
following discussed in Nemoto 1995:
(159) a. Taroo–ga Hanako–ni hon–o okutta.

Taro–nominative Hanako–dative book–accusative sent
‘Taro sent Hanako a book.’
b. Taroo–ga hon–o Hanako–ni okutta
There is no reason to assume (159a) is basic and (159b) derived via some movement rule. Suppose
one takes the position that –ga and –o are case markers (Miyagawa 1989b: Page 32 ff.) like the
nominative and accusative, respectively, in English and Latin, that is, both phrases are N3. Suppose
further that –ni is a postposition with the structure of a C3. If the order of elements is freely either
C3–N3 or N3–C3, then the former shows up in (159a), where Hanako–ni precedes hon–o, and the
latter shows up in (159b). To account for this we might postulate the following V1 frame for
Japanese, where “4” indicates, as before, that the order of adjacent items is free (cf. (150) above).
(160) THE JAPANESE V1 FRAME
[V1 N3 4 C3 – V0 ]
The order of verbal complements in Japanese thus parallels Latin examples where the order of the
direct and indirect objects in a verb phrase is free. Again, no movement rule is required.
8.2.4 THE ORDERING OF V1 CONSTITUENTS IN ITALIAN AND HEBREW.
A potentially more difficult problem for the theory we have presented concerns verbal complements
in Italian and Hebrew. Basically, both languages allow structures of the form (161b) as alternatives
to (161a) (data in Italian and Hebrew from Belletti and Shlonsky 1995).
(161) a. [VP V NP PP]

b. [VP V PP NP]
566 Chapter Eight
(162) a. ho messo [NP quel libro] [PP sul tavolo]
henaxti [NP §et ha–sefer ha–hu] [PP ¨al ha–šulxan]
I put [NP the book] [PP on the table]
b. ho messo [PP sul tavolo] [NP quel libro]

henaxti [PP ¨al ha–šulxan] [NP §et ha–sefer ha–hu]
I put [PP on the table] [NP the book]
Belletti and Shlonsky argue that (161a) is the base structure for verbal complements in both
languages. The initial “independent motivation” (Page 495) they give for this choice concerns
double complement idioms: in both Italian and Hebrew, such idioms only have the structure (161a):
(163) a. Ho messo i puntini sugli i

have put the dots on the i’s
‘I have clarified things.’
b. *Ho messo sugli i i puntini

have put on the i’s the dots
(164) a. sam §et nafš–o be–xap–o

put acc life–his in–palm–his
‘He took his life in his hand.’
b. *sam be–xap–o §et nafš–o

put in-palm–his acc life–his
Given such examples, Belletti and Shlonsky conclude that the ungrammatically of the PP NP order
in idioms “strongly suggests that there exists a linear order on the basis of which the idiom is
constructed and that this order corresponds to the one assumed” (Page 496), namely, (161a).
Actually, there are many alternative ways of accounting for the relationships between the above
pairs of non–idiomatic examples in Italian and Hebrew. Further, however one chooses to relate the
two structures in (161), the idioms must be treated exceptionally and tell us very little. We can
outline at least six possible ways of dealing with the data as follows, where each choice contains a
statement regarding the exceptional status of idioms in Italian and Hebrew:
(165) Choice I: (161a) is the base structure, and (161b) is derived from it by a rule which
moves one of the constituents:
Choice Ia: the NP moves right over the PP, except in idioms.
Choice Ib: the PP moves left over the NP, obligatorily in idioms.
Chapter Eight 567
Choice II: (161b) is the base structure, and (161a) is derived by a rule which moves
one of the constituents:
Choice IIa: the PP moves right over the NP, obligatorily in idioms.
Choice IIb: the NP moves left over the PP, except in idioms.
Choice III: both (161a) and (161b) are base structures, and the two variants are related
elsewhere in the grammar, say, by some lexical or interpretive rule; idioms
are marked somehow as only occurring in (161a).
Choice IV: neither (161a) nor (161b) is a basic structure; rather both structures are
projected from the lexicon in the manner we have described before and will
illustrate further below; idioms are marked so that they are only projected
as (161a).
Belletti and Shlonsky do not consider Choice III or Choice IV, which is understandable. They are
working within the framework of an MA, which generally accounts for variations like those in (161)
via a movement rule of some kind. Recent work in movement based models has attempted to
account for surface syntactic variations in terms of the base configuration of arguments. For
example, in Chapter Six (Page 435), we saw that the unaccusative hypothesis postulates the
following base structures for verbs like break, cut, and laugh (see example (188) on Page 435) to
account for, among other things, the grammaticality of The china broke but not *The bread cut:
(166) a. [S [e] [VP break NP]] intransitive/unaccusative
b. [S NP [VP cut NP]] transitive
c. [S NP [VP laugh]] intransitive/unergative
My guess is that Belletti and Schlonsky consider neither Choice III nor Choice IV, because the
spirit of work in an MA is to assume that surface variations are related to base configurations, a
position which strongly predisposes consideration of only Choice I and Choice II. Unfortunately,
this predisposition, forces an analyst to select one of the two variants as base generated and to find
arguments to support that selection.
Naturally, the approach we have taken elsewhere in this book predisposes us to Choice IV, namely,
that neither (178a) nor (178b) is more basic than the other. Adopting the approach suggested above
for Latin and Japanese, we can dispense entirely with the question of whether movement occurs to
the right or to the left by postulating that both Italian and Hebrew contain the following V1 frame
for non–idioms, where “4” indicates, as before, that the order of adjacent items is free (cf. (150) and
(160) above).
568 Chapter Eight
(167) THE ITALIAN/HEBREW V1 FRAME FOR NON–IDIOMS
[V1 V0 – N3 4 C3 ]
This frame says that the order of N3 and C3 in V1 is free in Italian and Hebrew. Such an approach
has the immediate advantage of not having to prove that one structure is more basic than the other.
Idioms are an exception to this frame, requiring instead the following structural analysis:
(168) THE ITALIAN/HEBREW V1 FRAME FOR IDIOMS
[V1 V0 – N3 – C3 ]
Opting for Choice IV and accepting the above NMA account, we can still accommodate other data
that Belletti and Shlonsky discuss such as the cliticization of ne in Italian (Page 498 ff.). As they
note, “a crucial property of ne cliticization is that the NP from which the clitic is extracted must
occupy the canonical direct object position” (Page 498). We can account for that property of ne
cliticization as follows: cliticization of ne is possible only if (161a) and not (161b) is the structure
projected from the lexicon.
If we turn to the behavior of idioms in English, preferences for the four choices itemized above
change. Before we examine the choices, it is important to consider two facts about idioms. First,
it is well–known that they are severely restricted. Nonetheless, they must be provided with
appropriate internal structure, since that structure often determines possible variants. To see this,
consider the phrasal structure of the following English sentences:
(169) a. He put [on] [that hat].

b. He sat [on that hat].
The difference between the intransitive (169a) and transitive (169b) use of prepositions determines
the following contrasts:
(170) a. *It was on that hat that he put.

b. It was on that hat that he sat.
(171) a. *Where did he put?

b. Where did he sit?
(172) a. He put that hat on.

b. *He sat that hat on.
In English, only idioms with the structure (173a) allow the preposition to occur after the noun
phrase, as (174) and (175) show.
Chapter Eight 569
(173) a. V – [PP P] – NP
b. V – [PP P – NP]
(174) a. blow off a lot of steam/blow a lot of steam off

b. bring down the house/bring the house down
c. make up one’s mind/make one’s mind up
(175) a. go off the deep end/*go the deep end off

b. jump down one’s throat/*jump one’s throat down
c. bark up the wrong tree/*bark the wrong tree up
Further, it is important to note that some English idioms can freely occur in a variety of
configurations such as the passive even when they are composed of more than one complement and
when both complements contribute to the idiom’s meaning:
(176) a. John’s problem is that he puts all his eggs into one basket.
b. Unfortunately, all of John’s eggs have been put into one basket.
(177) a. John’s lack of enthusiasm really took the wind out of my sails.
b. The wind was taken right out of my sails by John’s lack of enthusiasm.
Second, although some idioms exhibit the same structural variations as their non–idiomatic
counterparts, others have a fixed internal structure. For example, in English, sentences like (178)
are generally assumed to be transformationally related in an MA via some version of the Dative
Alternation (see Chapter Six, Page 437).
(178) a. He gave [NP the book] [PP to the boy].

b. He gave [NP the boy] [NP the book].
Whether one assumes (178a) or (178b) to contain the base or initial structure, one runs into trouble
with English idioms since some require one, some require the other, and some allow both — exactly
the same variations that one sees in non–idiomatic indirect object constructions:
(179) a. *He gave the creeps to me./He gave me the creeps.

b. *He spared the embarrassment to me/.He spared me the embarrassment.
(180) a. *He gave a run for my money to me./He gave me a run for my money.
b. *He guaranteed a promotion to me./He guaranteed me a promotion.
(181) a. *He gave hell to me./He gave me hell.

b. *He wished success to me./He wished me success
570 Chapter Eight
(182) a. The approach gave rise to many problems./*The approach gave many problems rise.
b. He explained linguistics to her./*He explained her linguistics.
(183) a. He needs to give vent to his rage./*He needs to give his rage vent.
b. He conveys assurance to all he meets./*He conveys all he meets assurance.
(184) a. We should give thanks to our parents./We should give our parents thanks.
b. We should bring gifts to our parents./We should bring our parents gifts.
(185) a. He gives free rein to all his employees./He gives all his employees free rein.
b. He lends money to his employees./He lends his employees money.
Paralleling (165), there are again at least six choices for the variants in (178) as follows:
(186) Choice I: (178a) is the base structure, and (178b) is derived from it by a rule which
moves one of the constituents; the PP converts to NP:
Choice Ia: the NP moves right over the PP.
Choice Ib: the PP moves left over the NP.
Choice II: (178b) is the base structure, and (178a) is derived by a rule which moves
one of the constituents; the first NP converts to a PP:
Choice IIa: the first NP moves right over the second NP.
Choice IIb: the second NP moves left over the first NP.
Choice III: both (178a) and (178b) are base structures, and the two variants are related
elsewhere in the grammar, say, by some lexical or interpretive rule; both
idiomatic and non–idiomatic expressions are marked somehow as occurring
in either one or the other or both of the structures.
Choice IV: neither (178a) nor (178b) is a basic structure; rather both structures are
projected from lexical specifications in both idiomatic and non–idiomatic
expressions.
In view of the above data and the multitude of other relevant examples in English, the fixed structure
of different idioms based on the same verb, e.g., give, strongly supports Choice IV, that is, the option
in which neither of the two structures in (178) are viewed as basic. In the other three choices,
whether one variant is viewed as basic or both are, certain English idioms and non–idioms must be
treated exceptionally somewhere in the grammar, since some only occur in one of the two variants
while others occur in both.
In an MA, the options are really between Choice I and Choice II; Choice III runs counter to the spirit
of such models of grammar where ›–roles are assigned configurationally in terms of underlying
representations (see the discussion of psych–verbs and double object constructions in Chomsky
1995: 61–63). Choice II seems unacceptable in current work since it involves the creation of a PP
Chapter Eight 571
from an NP. That leaves us with Choice I. Given either Choice Ia or Choice Ib, perhaps the best
approach is to allow the rule which converts (178a) into (178b) to apply freely. Cases which allow
only (178a) must be marked as obligatorily not undergoing the rule; cases which allow only (178b)
must undergo the rule obligatorily. This is hardly a desirable result since it necessitates that
grammars contain a theory of rule exception of the type proposed long ago in Lakoff 1970. A better
alternative might be to allow the structures to be freely generated and then rule out the
ungrammatical variants by some sort of filter or generalized principles.
If the nonmovement approach is taken and we opt for Choice IV, then the behavior of English
idioms is no different from the behavior of non–idioms in terms of the constructional variations. In
our discussion of the dative alternation (Chapter Six, Page 437), we noted that the difference
between verbs like donate, give and charge can be accounted for by assigning them different lexical
specifications like the following (see example (198) in Chapter Six, Page 437):
(187) a. donate EFC ASC AFR

b. give EFC ASC AFR P/N3
c. charge EFC ASC AFR N3
With regard to the idioms mentioned above, we now say that idioms like give birth parallel donate,
those like give thanks parallel give, and those like give the creeps parallel charge. Thus, English
idioms are no more peculiar structurally than ordinary verbs vis–à–vis the dative alternation. What
is peculiar about idioms is that they contain fixed lexical items.
Importantly, specifications like those in (187) can be generalized, a major goal of linguistic theory.
As we have noted at several points in this book, particularly in Chapter Five, alternations in verbal
complements really consist of two processes: the promotion of the SCOMP to PCOMP position, and
the demotion of the PCOMP to null, or to a second NP (the double object construction), or to
SCOMP (a PP introduced most frequently by the preposition with). If promotion occurs, then
demotion generally must also occur since there can be only one PCOMP, i.e., one direct object in
all cases except ditransitive verbs. The verb donate and the idiom give birth do not allow either of
these operations: they are the unmarked realization of the GUF (Page 394), which occurs in many
similar cases with an SCOMP other than an AFR. We have examples of both non–idiomatic and
idiomatic cases such as the following, where “[PST4]” indicates the highest strength of association
to position and “[PST]” indicates the lowest (see the discussion of prototypes in Chapter Five,
Section 5.6, Page 331 ff.):
(188) a. He put the milk into the refrigerator (ILLATIVE – [PST4]).

He put all his eggs into one basket (ILLATIVE – [PST0]).
b. He took the milk out of the refrigerator (ELATIVE – [PST4]).

He took the wind out of my sails (ELATIVE – [PST0]).
c. He bought the book from Bill (EFFERENTIAL – [PST4]).

It’s like taking candy from a baby (EFFERENTIAL – [PST0]).
572 Chapter Eight
All of the above examples are realizations of the following, where the first feature specification
defines the ASC PCOMP and the second feature specification defines a variety of SCOMP themes
like ILL (188a), ELA (188b), AFR (187a), EFR (188c), etc:
(189) verb ["DSJ, "CNJ] ["DSJ, –"CNJ]
The verb give and the idiom give credit allow the double object alternation like all verbs and idioms
with the following specifications, where [–VBL, +ECH, +X1L] specifies the features of
prepositional phrases and noun phrases (P/N3) as before :
(190) verb ["DSJ, "CNJ] [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX; –VBL, +ECH, +X1L]
The legitimate cases of the double object alternation meet the semantic feature specification [–PST,
–DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX]; the illicit ones do not:
(191) a. He gave/sold the car to her (AFR)./He gave/sold her the car.
b. He gave most of the credit to his mother (AFR)./He gave his mother most of the
credit.
c. He inserted a key into the lock (ILL)./*He inserted the lock a key.
d. He extracted a key from the lock (ELA)./*He extracted a key the lock.
e. He purchased the car from her (EFR)./*He purchased her the car.
f. He took a slow boat to China (ALL)./*He took China a slow boat.
The verb charge, the idiom give something one’s best shot, and all verbs and idioms which only
occur in the double object form have the following specification, where [–VBL, +NML] is the
feature specification for noun phrases (N3):
(192) verb ["DSJ, "CNJ] [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX; –VBL, +NML]
a. *He charged a bundle to her (AFR)./He charged her a bundle.

b. *He gave his best shot to the project (AFR)./He gave the project his best shot.
c. *He denied civil rights from them (EFR)./He denied them civil rights.
d. *It cost a lot of grief from her (EFR)./It cost her a lot of grief.
Recall that part four of the GUF (Page 394) stipulates the SCOMP must precede the PCOMP when
the SCOMP is projected as an N3; hence, in the above examples, the theme specified by the features
[–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX] occurs before the one specified by ["DSJ, "CNJ].
Lastly, a multitude of verbs marking very different themes can be reduced to the following (ASC
= ASSOCIATIVE; NASC = NONASSOCIATIVE):
(193) verb ["DSJ, "CNJ; –VBL, +ECH, +X1L]

[–PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ; –VBL, +ECH, +X1L]
Chapter Eight 573
(194) a. He supplied drugs (ASC) to them (AFR)./He supplied them with drugs.
b. He emptied the water (ASC) from the tank (EFR)./He emptied the tank of water.
c. He barred admission (NASC) to the students (AFR)./He barred the student
admission.
d. He inserted a key (ASC) into the lock (ILL)./*He inserted the lock with a key.
e. He extracted a key (ASC) from the lock (ELA)./*He extracted the lock with a key.
f. He purchased the car (ASC) from her (EFR)./*He purchased her with the car.
g. He took a slow boat (ASC) to China (ALL)./*He took China with a slow boat.
Accepting Choice III for the above data in an MA, even though it runs counter to the spirit of recent
work, we must then somehow rule out all the ungrammatical realizations. The crucial question for
an MA is, Why generate the structures only to then eliminate the illicit variations? It seems to me
that the correct approach is to not generate the illicit ones to begin with, that is, the best option is
Choice IV. With regard to Choice I and Choice II, an MA is faced with the same undesirable
results. As noted, both choices require that we mark certain variations of both idiomatic and
non–idiomatic expressions as illicit. But there is another problem. If the principle of Economy of
Derivation (Chomsky 1995: 181 ff., Abraham et al. 1996: 48 ff., Poole 1996: 201 ff.) is interpreted
as favoring the derivations which require the least effort, then there is always at least one step for
the grammatical variations on the initial structure in Choice I and Choice II that is required to turn
the base form into the variant. In Choice IV, which is our choice, this step does not exist since each
grammatical variant is independent of the other.
One can think of the basic options outlined above — the movement approach (Choices I and II)
versus the nonmovement approach (Choice IV) — in a way that is analogous to some morphological
processes, in particular, declension or conjugation. The very word declension seems to suggest and
originally meant turning one form into another, so that, for example, a nominative form like dux
[duk+s] was turned into an genitive form like ducis [duk+is] by rules that involved dropping the
nominative ending [s] (Dinneen 1967: 116). This idea is very old, going back to the Stoics who held
that the other cases had “fallen away” from the nominative (Waterman 1963:8). Nowadays, we do
not think of declension in this way; rather, nominative and genitive forms are said to involve
separate derivations formed by adding different terminations to the same root or stem. The
movement approach is analogous to the earlier sense of declension: one form is considered basic and
the syntactic variant is derived from it. The nonmovement approach is analogous to current views
on declension: each derivation proceeds separately from the other. In the nonmovement approach,
the syntactic element verb is analogous to the morphological element root or stem, e.g., [duk]; the
syntactic variations, (161a) and (161b), are analogous to the different case endings, [s] for the
nominative, [is] for the genitive, and so on,
8.2.5 THE VERB SECOND CONSTRAINT IN GERMAN.
One of the most active areas of research in movement based theories of grammar has involved the
study of verb second languages like German which require the SV to occupy the second structural
position in a clause.26 It is this topic which we now consider.
574 Chapter Eight
Let us begin with the most conservative hypothesis, that German is like English in all of the
following ways:
(195) a. Phrases have a three level structure: [X3 [X2 [X1 [X0 head ] ] ] ]
b. Specifiers C–command modifiers, and modifiers C–command complements.
c. The SV must be a modal if there is one, then a perfective if there is one.
d. The basic SV structure is [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 SV ]] [C0 MDE]]] (cf. Page 208).
e. Infinitives and perfective participles have the structure of prepositional phrases.
Given the above, the internal structures of representative German mode characterizers, infinitives,
and separable verbs are as follows (INF = an abstract infinitive marker; PFCP = perfective
participle):
(196) a. [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 kommt]] [C0 PRS]]] ]] ‘comes’

(cf. English [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 is]] [C0 PRS]]] ]])
b. [C3 [C0 [C0 INF ] [V3 [V0 kommen]] ]] ‘to come’
c. [C3 [C1 [C0 zu] [V3 [V0 kommen]] ]] ‘to come’
(cf. English [C3 [C1 [C0 to] [V3 [V0 come]] ]])
d. [C3 [C0 [C0 an] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 kommt]] [C0 PRS]]] ]] ‘arrives’
e. [C3 [C0 [C0 an] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF] [V3 [V0 kommen]] ]] ]] ‘to arrive’
f. [C3 [C0 [C0 an] [C3 [C0 [C0 PFCP][V3 [V0 gekommen]] ]] ]] ‘(have) arrived’
For ease of reading, when the internal verbal structure is not relevant to the analysis, we will reduce
the above to the following, respectively:
(197) a. [C3 kommt] ‘comes’

b. [C3 kommen] ‘to come’
c. [C3 zu kommen] ‘to come’
d. [C3 ankommt] ‘arrives’

e. [C3 ankommen] ‘to arrive’
f. [C3 angekommen] ‘(have) arrived’
Continuing with the most conservative hypothesis, let us further assume that all morphologically
heavy verbs (ones marked for person, number and tense) must be the SV in German, paralleling
Latin, French and other languages where the verb is highly inflected.
What is different about German is that it requires all verbals and all verbal particles (separable
prefixes) to reside in X3 level posthead position of the maximal projection of V0, that is, in the
“highest” V3 dominating any given V0. This distribution is generally assumed to be a consequence
of the underlying word order of German which is SOV.27 Consider the following:
Chapter Eight 575
(198) a. Er kommt Heute an.
he arrives today
‘He arrives today’
[V3 [N3 er] [C3 kommti] [V2 [N3 Heute] ei ] [C3 an]]
b. Er muß Heute ankommen.

he must today arrive
‘He must arrive today.’
[V3 [N3 er] [C3 muß] [V2 [N3 Heute] ei ] [C3 an [V0 kommeni ]] ]
c. Er ist Heute angekommen.

he has today arrived
‘He has arrived today.’
[V3 [N3 er] [C3 ist] [V2 [N3 Heute] ei ] [C3 an [V0 gekommeni ]] ]
Structures such as the above suggest that there is a tension in German between the mode
characterizer and a verbal prefix. The mode characterizer contains a head with the abstract features
of PERSON, NUMBER, and TENSE, which must be affixed to some SV. Verbal prefixes are also
heads “missing a body.” Whenever possible, e.g. when there is a modal (198b) or perfective (198c),
the verb will occur with the prefix. Only when there is no other choice for SV will the prefix remain
stranded as in (198a).
In addition, German requires the SV to also reside in the highest possible recursion of V3. As we
have noted before, this is the essential generalization of the Verb Movement analysis. Generally,
in German, the SV resides in the same V3 as the (nominative) subject. However, if an element like
Heute ‘today’ is topicalized, then the SV must reside on the same V3 level as Heute. Consider the
following in comparison with (198a):28
(199) a. Heute kommt er an.

today arrives he
‘Today, he arrives.’
[V3 [N3 Heute]k [C3 kommti ] [V3 [N3 er] [V2 [N3 e]k ei ] ] [C3 an] ]
b. Heute ist er angekommen.

today has he arrived
‘Today, he has arrived today.’
[V3 [N3 Heute]k [C3 ist] [V3 [N3 er] [V2 [N3 e]k ei ] ] [C3 an [V0 gekommeni ]] ]
576 Chapter Eight
In complement clauses introduced by an overt complementizer, the SV is forced to reside in
posthead position because, as we have seen, prehead position is occupied by the complementizer.
(200) a. (Ich glaube) daß er Heute ankommt.

(I think) that he today arrives
‘(I think) that he arrives today.’
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 er] [V2 [N3 Heute] ei ]] [C3 ankommti ]]
b. (Ich glaube) daß er Heute angekommen ist.

(I think) that he today arrived has
‘(I think) that he has arrived today.’
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 er] [V2 [N3 Heute] ei ] [C3 angekommeni ]] [C3 ist]]
We see the above patterns when other elements are topicalized, e.g., the direct object. Consider the
following examples from Cook, V. and Newson (1996: 218–222) and the structures provided:
(201) a. Bruno verlor dieses Buch.

Bruno lost this book
‘Bruno lost this book’
[V3 [N3 Bruno] [C3 verlori ] [V1 [N3 dieses Buch] ei ]]
b. Dieses Buch verlor Bruno.

this book lost Bruno
‘Bruno lost this book.’
[V3 [N3 dieses Buch]k [C3 verlori ] [V3 [N3 Bruno] [V1 ek ei ]]]
c. Heute verlor Bruno dieses Buch.

today lost Bruno this book
‘Today, Bruno lost this book.’
[V3 [N3 Heute]k [C3 verlori] [V3 [N3 Bruno] [V2 ek [V1 [N3 dieses Buch] ei ]] ]]
d. Bruno hat dieses Buch verloren.

Bruno has this book lost
‘Bruno has lost this book.’
[V3 [N3 Bruno] [C3 hat] [V1 [N3 dieses Buch] ei ] [C3 verloreni ]]
Chapter Eight 577
As before, if a complementizer is present, the SV resides in posthead position:
(202) a. (Ich glaube) daß Bruno dieses Buch verlor.

(I think) that Bruno this book lost
‘(I think) that Bruno lost this book’
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 Bruno] [V1 [N3 dieses Buch] ei ]] [C3 verlori ]]
b. (Ich glaube) daß Bruno dieses Buch verloren hat.

(I think) that Bruno this book lost has
‘(I think) that Bruno has lost this book.’
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 Bruno] [V1 [N3 dieses Buch] ei ] [C3 verloreni ]] [C3 hat]]
Consider now the following infinitive constructions:
(203) a. Hans sah Marie schwimmen.

Hans saw Marie swim
‘Hans saw Marie swim.’
[V3 [N3 Hans] [C3 sahi ] [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF] [V3 [V0 schwimmen] ] ]] ei ]]
b. Hans verbot Marie zu schwimmen.

Hans forbade Marie to swim
‘Hans forbade Marie to swim.
[V3 [N3 Hans] [C3 verboti ] [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 [C0 [C0 zu] [V3 [V0 schwimmen ]] ]] ei ]]
The above examples are identical to their English counterparts except that the direct object precedes
the main verb. If a complementizer occurs, then, unlike English, the SV resides in posthead position:
(204) a. (Ich glaube) daß Hans Marie schwimmen sah.

(I think) that Hans Marie swim saw
‘(I think) that Hans saw Marie swim.’
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 Hans] [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 [C0 [C0 zu] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF] [V3 [V0
schwimmen ]] ]] ]] ei ]] [C3 sahi ]]
b. (Ich glaube) daß Hans Marie zu schwimmen verbot.

(I think) that Hans Marie to swim forbade
‘(I think) that Hans forbade Marie to swim.
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 Hans] [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 [C0 [C0 zu] [V3 [V0 schwimmen ]] ]] ei ]] [C3
verboti ]]
578 Chapter Eight
The above analyses extend to more complicated examples which contain multiple embedded
infinitives. Consider the following from Kroch and Santorini (1991: 271):
(205) a. Hans sah Peter Marie schwimmen lassen.

Hans saw Peter Marie swim make
‘Hans saw Peter make Marie swim.’
[V3 [N3 Hans] [C3 sahi ] [V1 [N3 Peter] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF ] [V3 [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 schwimmen]
ej ] [C3 lassenj ]] ]] ei ]]
b. Hans verbot Peter Marie zu schwimmen zu zwingen.

Hans forbade Peter Marie to swim to force
‘Hans forbade Peter to force Marie to swim.
[V3 [N3 Hans] [C3 verboti ] [V1 [N3 Peter] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF ] [V3 [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 zu
schwimmen] ej ] [C3 zu lassenj ]] ]] ei ]]
Notice that, unlike English (SVO), direct objects in German precede the verb (SOV). This poses
no problems for the current analysis: objects are complements and complements reside on the X1
level. Thus, in (205), Peter is the object of sah/verbot and the subject of lassen/zwingen.
As before, in complement clauses the SV resides in posthead position of the immediate

neighborhood because the prehead position is occupied by an overt complementizer:
(206) a. (Ich glaube) daß Hans Peter Marie schwimmen lassen sah.
(I think) that Hans Peter Marie swim make saw
‘(I think) that Hans saw Peter make Marie swim.’
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 Hans] [V1 [N3 Peter] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF ] [V3 [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3
schwimmen] ej ] [C3 lassenj ]] ]] ei ]] [C3 sahi ]]
b. (Ich glaube) daß Hans Peter Marie zu schwimmen zu zwingen verbot.

(I think) that Hans Peter Marie to swim to force forbade
‘(I think) that Hans forbade Peter to force Marie to swim.
[V3 [C3 daß] [V3 [N3 Hans] [V1 [N3 Peter] [C3 [C0 [C0 INF ] [V3 [V1 [N3 Marie] [C3 zu
schwimmen] ej ] [C3 zu zwingenj ]] ]] ei ]] [C3 verboti ]]
Of course, the above analyses borrow much from work on Verb Movement done within the
framework of an MA. For example, I have assumed an SOV order for German on the basis of the
many arguments within movement based theories. Yet, I see no compelling reason to assume an
elaborate underlying representation where the SV and verbals originate in deeply embedded VP and
then move “up” the tree to the position they ultimately occupy in surface representations. Indeed,
Chapter Eight 579
the reason they have to move up is because the movement analysis places them in a deeply
embedded VP to begin with.
To summarize this section, if a nonmovement approach to syntax is taken seriously, there seems to
be no reason to assume that grammars contain some version of a transformational component,
allowing underlying representations to contain lexical items in a different order from their
corresponding surface representations. When alternative orders of constituents are possible as in
the Hebrew and Italian data we examined, it is not necessary to choose one order as basic and derive
the other orders by moving constituents into new positions. Also, specific word orders like the verb
second constraint in German, as well as so–called “scrambling” orders in languages like Latin and
Japanese, can be accounted for without an appeal to movement operations as we have seen. The
conclusion is that operations like Move–" (Chomsky 1981) and Move (Chomsky 1995) duplicate
the information represented in chains (of binding), a conclusion that has recently been reached by
others including those working in a Minimalist framework (Brody 1995, 1998; Epstein and Seely
1999). Since movement operations are redundant, it is not necessary for the grammars of natural
languages to contain them.
In the nonmovement analysis proposed here, the only operation possible in the generation of a
representation is an operation which merges successive elements into larger constituents. The input
string to the grammar/parser consists of a sequence of lexical items, LI1...LIn, either keyed in by a
user or randomly selected from the lexicon. Representations are constructed by merging each
successive LI with the next LI or with an empty category ([u] or [e]) so that the representation in the
output string preserves the order of lexical items in the input string. Thus, the grammar/parser is
essentially a phrase structure grammar which allows the generation of empty categories in situ.
8.3 SUMMARY AND NOTATIONAL VARIATION.
Much of the recent work in the movement approach to syntactic analysis (MA) has been concerned
with motivating the movement of constituents. For example, since passive participles are not case
assigners (Jaeggli 1986), the movement of the direct object NP to subject position in the passive
occurs so that the NP will receive case. We have provided similar accounts in the framework of a
nonmovement approach (NMA), speaking not of movement but of different positions that
constituents, including empty categories, can occupy and why. The apparent similarity between the
two approaches does not mean that they are notational variations of each other. The syntactic theory
outlined in Chapter Three stipulates that the order of overt lexical items must be the same in all
levels of representation. Further, we have proposed that abstract representations must conform to
the ECC (see Page 232):
(207) ECC (EMPTY CATEGORY CONDITION).
An empty morphosyntactic category can only reside in a licensed position. The licensing
of empty categories depends on specific structures and principles such as the following:
580 Chapter Eight
a. [X3 u] (or more simply, [u]) is an unbound empty category licensed only in positions
that can be filled by overt phrases of the same category X without otherwise altering
the sentence in which it occurs.
[1] [C3 u] (abbreviated as Ø for expository purposes) is licensed in a position that

can be filled by an overt determiner or complementizer, namely, [X3 Ø...X0 ],
where X = ["VBL, –"NML], that is N or V.
[a] John told us Ø/those stories.

[b] John told us Ø/that Bill went.
[2] [N3 u] is licensed as an understood direct object if a verb’s subcategorization

stipulates it.
[a] Let’s eat [u]/dinner.

[b] They are hiring [u]/people.
[c] She shrugged [u]/her shoulders.
[d] John is eager to please [u]/everyone.
[3] [N3 u] is licensed as the understood SUBJECT of an imperative.
[a] [u]/you take care of yourself.

[b] [u]/you take care of yourselves.
[4] [N3 u] is licensed as the empty subject in highly inflected languages.
[a] Io vengo.
[u] vengo.
‘I come.’
[b] Pedro llega.
[u] llega.
[5] [N3 u] is licensed as the head of an N3 provided it is preceded and/or followed

by some X3 or X2 level resident in that N3.
[a] Look at that [u]/thing.

[b] Look at those [u]/things.
[c] Give me some [u]/chips.
[d] He has more [u]/things than everyone else.
[e] Where is John’s [u]/stuff?
[f] Bill read these (three) [u]/books.
[g] I’ll take two [u]/hot dogs.
Chapter Eight 581
[h] The rich [u]/people get richer.
[i] Youth is wasted on the young [u]/people.
[j] She is the best [u]/student in the class.
[k] I like those [u]/things that John has.
[6] [N3 u] is licensed in partitive constructions (a variation of [5]).
[a] Some [u]/bottles of that wine spoiled.

[b] Six [u]/groups of the students picketed.
[c] Which [u]/one of the students did you see?
[7] [V3 u] is licensed in sentences with adverbial subordinate clauses if the V3

containing [u] does not both precede and C–command its referent.
[a] John will go, if/when you ask him to [u]/go.

[b] *John will *[u]/go, if/when you ask him to go.
[c] If/when you ask him to [u]/go, John will go.
[d] If/when you ask him to go, John will [u]/go.
[8] [V3 u] is licensed in comparative clauses.
[a] John works harder than Bill [u]/works.

[b] John attends more meetings than Bill [u]/attends.
[c] John is as sad as Bill is [u]/happy.
b. [e] is a bound empty category licensed only in base positions (Page 86), that is,
MAIN VERB, AUX, SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP, or MOD, the basic elements of
simple declarative sentences. The position occupied by [e] cannot be filled by an
overt phrase without otherwise altering the sentence in which it occurs. The
morphosyntactic features of [e] are identical to those of its referent in all regards
except features determined by position, e.g. case features.
[1] The referent for [e] is in the immediate neighborhood.
[a] The referent for [e] is an N3 in SUBJECT or PCOMP position.
1. Hei is admired [e]i. (cf. People admired him.)

2. Hei is easy to please [e]i. (cf. It is easy to please him.)
3. Into the room, [e]i ran a childi.
4. We have Johni to thank [e]i.
582 Chapter Eight
[b] The referent for [e] is a morphologically heavy verb in SV position
(V–to–I Movement in an MA).
1. They arei all [e]i going.

2. They arei so [e]i going.
3. Jean embrassei souvent [e]i Marie. ‘John kisses Mary often.’
4. Giovanni baciai spesso [e]i Maria. ‘John kisses Mary often.’
5. Jean n’aimei pas [e]i Marie. ‘John doesn’t like Mary.’
6. Mes amis aimenti tous [e]i Marie. ‘My friends all like Mary.’
7. Er kommti Heute [e]i an. ‘He arrives today’
[2] The referent for [e] is in the extended neighborhood.
[a] The referent for [e] is a WH–phrase or focused phrase.
1. Whoi should John meet [e]i?

2. I know whoi John met [e]i.
3. I saw the mani whoi John met [e]i.
4. This mani, John really must meet [e]i.
5. Happyi, John will never be [e]i.
[b] The referent for [e] is the mode characterizer (I–to–C Movement in an
MA).
1. Couldi they [e]i have gone?

2. Whati couldj they [e]j have bought [e]i?
The ECC stipulates that the positions for [e] and its referent in long distance dependencies must be
the same as their positions in simpler sentences. To see this, consider first some distinctions
between direct statements, direct alternative (yes/no) questions, and direct WH–questions as follows:
(208) a. Bill read the book.

b. *Anyone read the book.
c. *Bill read the book at all.
(209) a. Did Bill read the book?

b. Did anyone read the book?
c. Did Bill read the book at all?
(210) a. Whati did Bill read [e]i?

b. *Whati did anyone read [e]i?
c. *Whati did Bill read [e]i at all?
Chapter Eight 583
The above contrasts derive from the fact that anyone and at all cannot occur in positive statements
or WH–questions, but they can occur in alternative questions. We see the same contrasts in indirect
statements and indirect questions:
(211) a. John knows (that) Bill read the book.

b. *John knows (that) anyone read the book.
c. *John knows (that) Bill read the book at all.
(212) a. John knows whether/if Bill read the book (or not).
b. John knows whether/if anyone read the book (or not).
c. John knows whether/if Bill read the book at all (or not).
(213) a. John knows whati Bill read [e]i.

b. *John knows whati anyone read [e]i.
c. *John knows whati Bill read [e]i at all.
The above data indicate that the verb know can govern either an indirect statement like (211a) or an
indirect alternative question like (212a) or an indirect WH–question like (213a). The “clause
trigger” (that, whether, etc.) indicates which type of indirect V3 occurs. Indirect statements are
triggered by the complementizer that or the absence of an overt complementizer (Ø); indirect
questions are triggered by a WH–phrase or a complementizer like if.
Crucially, indirect statements are never introduced by WH–phrases. For example, declare, maintain,
allege, etc., unlike know, say, explain and many other verbs, can only introduce an indirect
statement; therefore, we do not have the following:
(214) a. *John declared/maintained/alleged whether Bill read the book.

b. *John declared/maintained/alleged whati Bill read [e]i.
Given the above data, it is incorrect to assume a successive cyclic application of WH–Movement
in long distance dependencies since such an analysis places the trace of a WH–phrase in a position
where an overt WH–phrase can never occur. Furthermore, the position is not a base position so the
ECC is violated. In short, the correct structure for (215a) is (215b), not (215c).29
(215) a. What did John say that Mary thought that Bill read?
b. Whati did John say that Mary thought that Bill read [e]i?
c. Whati did John say [e]i that Mary thought [e]i that Bill read [e]i?
The difference between (215b) and (215c) is not notational. The ECC places a very severe
restriction on the form of abstract representations. I am not aware of any version of an MA that
contains this restriction.
Notice also that the ECC, as formulated above, allows us to express the similarity between
NP–Movement and V–to–I Movement (207b1), on the one hand, and WH–Movement and I–to–C
584 Chapter Eight
Movement (207b2), on the other (see Roberts 1997:38 ff. and Radford 1997:Chapter 5, for a
discussion of V–to–I Movement and I–to–C Movement). In the former cases, the referent for [e]
is in the immediate neighborhood, which essentially defines the domain of simple declarative
sentences; in the latter cases, it is in the extended neighborhood. In all cases, [e] is in a base
position, where base positions mark the basic elements of simple declarative sentences (Page 86):
(216) a. SUBJECT + AUX + MAIN VERB + PCOMP + SCOMP + MOD

b. the man will pour the water into the glass slowly
One might suppose that IP in an MA is equivalent to the immediate neighborhood here, and that CP
in an MA is equivalent to the extended neighborhood, but that is incorrect. Consider the following:
(217) a. [CP [C' [C willi ] [IP [DP he] [I' [I [e]i [VP be happy ] ]]] ]]
b. [V3 [C3 will ]i [V3 [N3 he] [C3 e]i [V2 be happy ] ] ]
8______________8 8_______________________________________8
Extended Neighborhood Immediate Neighborhood
Notice first that there are two different maximal projections (CP and IP) dominating the VP that
contains be happy in (217a), whereas the only projections dominating be happy in (217b) are
projections of V. Thus, the two approaches, MA in (217a) and NMA in (217b), present two entirely
different descriptions of syntax so that they are not notational variants. That would be true even if
movement were eliminated from (217a), and (217a) were a directly generated structure.
It is possible, of course, to write an algorithm that will turn the two representations in (217) into each
other. In fact, the LTP contains just such an algorithm that turns representations like (217b) into
familiar tree diagrams using the notation of the Standard Theory of TG (Chomsky 1965) so that
students can see the relationships between the two systems. However, any algorithm that would turn
(217b) into (217a) would simply be an exercise in writing algorithms, would destroy the
fundamental differences between the two representations, and would undermine the entire research
agenda of generative grammar. Quite clearly, the presence of three different types of maximal
projections in the movement approach (CP, IP, and VP) leads to very different claims about the
nature of syntactic processes when compared with a nonmovement approach which claims that
sentences are V3 projections only. The two approaches lead to very different characterizations of
UG, for example, whether or not UG contains a stipulation that all branching must be binary.
In addition to such structural considerations, the binding principles will necessarily be different in
the two approaches. To see this, consider the following structures for Is he happy:
(218) a. [CP [C' [C isi ] [IP [DP he] [I' [I [e]i [VP [e]i happy ] ]]] ]]
b. [V3 [C3 isi PRS ]j [V3 [N3 he] [C3 ei e ]j [V2 [e]i happy ] ]]
In (218a), is moves to its position as the head of CP by successive cyclic application of Head
Movement, first via V–to–I Movement from the head of VP to the head of IP, and then via I–to–C
Chapter Eight 585
Movement from the head of IP to the head of CP. As I mentioned in my discussion of the DP/CP
analysis (Chapter Three, Page 196 ff.), the above analysis moves a lexical item with the features of
a verb into a position normally occupied by an item with the features of INFL and from there into
a position normally occupied by a item with the features of a complementizer. Such movements are
permissible in an MA because rules like Move–" allow anything to move anywhere. In the NMA
described here, the ECC stipulates that the morphosyntactic features of [e] must be identical to those
of its referent in all regards except features determined by position, e.g. case features (207b). That
means that a V0 can never be bound to anything other than a V0. Thus, in (218b), is is bound to the
Support Verb inside the mode characterizer and to the main verb which is the head of the sentence
(V3). This seems appropriate particularly since the very presence of the main verb in (218) depends
on matters of verbal subcategorization (he is happy versus *he is happily) which are completely
irrelevant for INFL and complementizers.
The very notion of successive cyclic application of a movement rule (or an interpretive rule) has no
relevance in the NMA described here so that it is not even considered a property of grammars. We
saw above that its relevance in WH–Movement cases is questionable; here it misleading. To call
both V–to–I Movement and I–to–C Movement instances of the same process, Head Movement,
obscures the very different nature of the relationships involved. The binding of [e] in main verb
position to the head of IP involves the binding of an empty V0 to an overt V0 (is), whereas the
binding of the head of IP to the head of CP involves the binding of an empty AUX to an overt AUX
which contains more than a verb head. We see this clearly in negative questions like Isn’t he happy,
where the AUX contains a negative in addition to the verb is.
On the other hand, the morphosyntactic feature system elaborated in Chapter Three allows us to say
that the referent for an [e] in base position must be some X3 in the immediate neighborhood in the
(207b1) examples (NP–Movement and V–to–I Movement) and in the extended neighborhood in the
(207b2) examples (WH–Movement and I–to–C Movement). The left–to–right order of elements in
both neighborhoods is predicted by the base schema on Page 184, repeated here for convenience:
(219) [Xn ([+NML]) ([–NML]) Xm ([+NML]) ([–NML]) ] where m # n
Thus, in WH–questions, the WH–phrase (an N3) must precede the mode characterizer (a C3). In
fact, if we assume that yes/no questions contain an empty WH–phrase ([u]), we might say that the
presence of a quantificational N3 in the extended neighborhood “attracts” the mode characterizer
so that it precedes the subject in examples like What did he say and Never did he say such a thing
(see the discussion of quantificational or scope properties of Wh–phrases in Section 8.1.1, Page
528). The structures I have in mind are the following, where [u] is a phonologically empty
WH–trigger for questions like the old “Q” in the Standard Theory:
(220) a. [V3 [N3 whati] [C3 didj] [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [e]j] [V1 say [N3 e]i ] ] ]
b. [V3 [N3 [u]] [C3 didj] [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [e]j] [V1 say [N3 such a thing] ] ] ]
c. [V3 [N3 never] [C3 didj] [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [e]j] [V1 say [N3 such a thing] ] ] ]
586 Chapter Eight
Generative syntax has been distinguished for its respect for categories and constituents. In fact,
arguments regarding the structural analysis of sentences have relied on diagnostics which make
specific reference to the properties of categories and constituents. Such diagnostics have been used
to prove, for example, that (221a) is ambiguous, that (221b) and (221c) are unambiguous, that
(221d) and (221e) are appropriate uses of where and how, that (221f) and (221g) are inappropriate
uses of the same words, and that (221h) is infelicitous because the categories being conjoined are
different.
(221) a. The farmer looked over the fence.

b. Over the fence, the farmer looked.
c. The farmer looked the fence over.
d. Over the fence is where the farmer looked.
e. Sick is how the farmer looked.
f. *Over the fence is how the farmer looked.
g. *Sick is where the farmer looked.
h. *The farmer looked sick and over the fence.
Movements such as V–to–I and I–to–C undermine this tradition in generative syntax and raise
questions about the validity of using such diagnostics at all if such movements are accepted. It is,
quite simply, a matter of not being able to have it both ways, of respecting the properties of
categories on the one hand and disregarding them on the other. For example, it seems contradictory
for grammars to contain movements such as V–to–I and I–to–C, which completely disregard the
features of the categories involved, and at the same time contain principles to ensure that the features
of categories are compatible with each other (see discussions of Checking Theory in Chomsky 1995,
Johnson and Lappin 1999, and Ura 2000). Countering this objection with a proposal that the
movements are instances of adjunction (V is first adjoined to I and then to C) strikes me as syntactic
legerdemain. While there is, in fact, independent motivation for the structure of the Support Verb
in the NMA described here — a structure which looks very much like a V adjoined to I as (222)
indicates — there is no independent motivation for such a structure in movement based theories or
for a structure in which V is adjoined to C.
(222) a. [IP [DP he] [I' [I [V is]i [I PRS ]]] [VP [V e]i happy] ]
b. [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 is]i ] PRS ]] [V2 [V0 e]i happy] ]
In his discussion of Chomsky’s work, Smith, N. (1999:80-81) asserts that a grammar which lacks
movement rules is not automatically more restrictive than one which has movement rules. That
assertion seems reasonable. On the other hand, given the two structures compared in (217) and
(218) and the different operations involved in deriving meaning from the structures, the approaches
are not notational variations. That matter aside, the real issue is, Which approach leads to a more
detailed and restrictive version of UG so that grammatical facts become properties of UG rather than
particular grammars? That question bears directly on the fundamental problem for linguistics, the
problem of primary language acquisition. So much attention has been given to the movement
approach to syntactic analysis in the past fifty years that it is impossible to compare its adequacy in
these regards with a nonmovement approach. As I noted in the Preface, this book is an attempt to
Chapter Eight 587
provide an NMA alternative to an MA so that the comparison can be made and the relevant
questions asked. After five decades of research in various movement based theories, it seems that
such comparative analyses would both enrich the field and sharpen the research agenda.
Since my argument is that empty categories do not appear in representations as a result of

movement, consider again how they get there. In the NMA described here, a sentence like (223a)
is assigned the structure (223b), by rules which insert an [e] or [u] into object position of read as a
result of the subcategorization restrictions associated with the verb: read is always transitive
although its object can be empty and unbound as in (223c).30
(223) a. This book you really must read.

b. This booki you really must read [e]i.
c. He is reading [u].
Similarly, (224a) is assigned the structure (224b) but not (224c) because the preposition to in the
context illustrated requires an object.
(224) a. Who is he reading to.

b. Whoi is he reading [u] to [e]i.
c. *Whoi is he reading [e]i to [u].
An example like (225) is ill–formed because the grammar (or parser) can find no slot for who given
the subcategorization restrictions on read:
(225) *Who is he reading to the children?
As far as I know, a theory which derives (223a) from (226) via a topicalization transformation which
moves the phrase this book forward leaving behind a coindexed [e] does not involve considerations
of subcategorization for the movement itself.
(226) You really must read this book.
In fact, rules like Move–" are blind to all aspects of meaning. The process of inserting empty
categories described here is subject to the same considerations as the rules for interpreting structures
containing empty categories, that is, the considerations are the same whether one is inserting [e] into
(223a) or interpreting [e] in (223b). Such considerations are derived from lexical specifications
which include information about selectional restrictions, subcategorization requirements, and the
like, as we have seen at many points in the preceding chapters. Every grammar, of whatever type,
must contain such information. For example, every grammar must contain the information that the
verb read allows an understood object. Thus, inserting [e] as above is not the equivalent of moving
something and leaving behind an [e]. If the insertion of [e] proposed here is equivalent to anything
in an MA, it is equivalent to the rules necessary for interpreting the appropriateness of any given [e]
that results from movement in such examples as the following:
588 Chapter Eight
(227) a. This booki you really must read [e]i.
b. These tea leavesi you really must read [e]i.
c. *This nose hairi you really must read [e]i. (* = “implausible”)
Given this, the question is, Why have movement at all? Why not deal directly with forms like
(223b) and dispense with the added computational step that movement requires? That is, having
produced (223b) by inserting the [e], why include the unnecessary step of replacing the [e] with the
“moved” phrase to produce (226)? It seems to me that the burden of proof is on movement analyses
since the presence of movement operations necessitates an extra step in the computation and,
accordingly, widens the definition of human language in the sense of Chomsky 1965. Specifically,
it must be shown that generalizations cannot be captured unless movement is assumed. In the
present case, it must be shown that there are generalizations expressed by deriving (223a) from (226)
which cannot be expressed directly in terms of a surface form like (223b). Such generalizations do
not seem to exist; therefore, the conclusion must be that movement rules duplicate the information
expressed in representations like (223b) so that there is no need for grammars to contain them
(Brody 1995, 1998). Epstein and Seely (1999) also argue that representations like (223b), which
contain a chain (of binding), are redundant with movement; however, their approach is to provide
an alternative analysis without chains in the context of copy theory.
Given the ECC and the syntactic feature matrix in Figure Seven, the number of residences into
which an empty category can be inserted, i.e., can occur, is severely restricted. The empty category
[u] occurs primarily in N3 like (228a) and V3 like (228b).
(228) a. [N3 C3... [u] ... ] (the best [u] in the class)
b. [V3 N3 MDE [V1 V0 [u] ]] (he shrugged [u]; she ate [u])
The phonologically null morpheme Ø (=[u]) has the features [+X3L, +PRH, "ENH, –"EVH]. As
a determiner, it is [+X3L, +PRH, +ENH, –EVH] like the, this, that, etc.; as a complementizer, it is
[+X3L, +PRH, –ENH, +EVH] like that and if. Thus, it can be inserted only into (229).
(229) [X3 Ø...X0 ]
The empty category [e], the only bound empty category, occurs in the base V3 positions in (230).
(230) a. [V3 [e] MDE V0 ] (SUBJECT position)

b. [V3 N3 MDE [V1 V0 [e] ]] (PRIMARY COMP position)
c. [V3 N3 MDE [V1 V0 N3 [e] ]] (SECONDARY COMP position)
d. [V3 N3 MDE [V2 V0 [e] ]] (MODIFIER position)
e. [V3 N3 MDE [V2 [e] ... ]] (MAIN VERB position)
f. [V3 N3 [e] [Vn V0 ... ]] (AUXILIARY position)
In contrast, rules like Move–" allow anything to move anywhere, so an MA must concern itself with
many movements which never arise in the present model. For example, as we argued above, the
present model postulates only one [e] in a sentence like (231).
Chapter Eight 589
(231) Whati did John say that Sue said that Bill saw [e]i?
Again, an example like (232a) is ill–formed because admire does not allow a [u] object and tell does
not allow a [u] indirect object, as the remaining sentences in (232) indicate.
(232) a. *Who did John tell that Sue said that Bill admires?
b. *Whoi did John tell [e]i that Sue said that Bill admires [u]?
c. *Whoi did John tell [u] that Sue said that Bill admires [e]i?
d. *John told Fred that Bill admires [u].
e. *John told [u] that Bill admires Fred.
On the other hand, a sentence like (233a) is given an ambiguous reading because of the different
possibilities indicated.
(233) a. Who did John promise that Bill would visit?

b. Whoi did John promise [e]i that Bill would visit [u]?
c. Whoi did John promise [u] that Bill would visit [e]i?
We have further contrasts like the following:
(234) a. John, you really must visit [u].

b. Johni, you really must visit [e]i.
(235) a. *John, you really must admire [u].

b. Johni, you really must admire [e]i.
(236) a. John, you really must read [u].

b. *Johni, you really must read [e]i.
(237) a. *This book, you really must read [u].

b. This booki, you really must read [e]i.
(238) a. [Wheni did [John say [that Bill is happy] [e]i ]]?
b. [Wheni did [John say [that Bill is happy [e]i ]]]?
(239) a. [Wheni did [John say [that Bill is Italian] [e]i ]]?
b. *[Wheni did [John say [that Bill is Italian [e]i ]]]?
(240) a. *[What nationalityi did [John say [that Bill is] [e]i ]]?
b. [What nationalityi did [John say [that Bill is [e]i ]]]?
In preceding chapters, we have considered many other contrasts like the above. For example, in
Section 7.4 (Page 506), we saw that the insertion of [e] or [u] into a structure like (241) depends on
the subcategorization features of the governing verb, as the various examples in (242) indicate.
590 Chapter Eight
(241) [N3 DET NOUN to VERB [e]i/[u] ]
(242) the mani to direct [e]i/[u]

the mani to admire [e]i/*[u]
the mani to sing *[e]i/[u]

the songi to sing [e]i/*[u]
the mani to meet [e]i/*[u]

the meni to meet [e]i/[u]
The fact that representations like those in (242) and (223b) may look like the derived structure in
a movement approach cannot be interpreted to mean that the two models under discussion are
equivalent, although they do share some important characteristics. For example, neither model can
be viewed as a means of generating representations for specific sentences. Even when a user types
a specific sentence like Those students were arrested into the Langtech Parser (LTP), the parser
does not “know” how the sentence is going to end when it starts to parse. Thus, at the point that the
parser has merged those and students into a phrase, the parser has not determined that those students
is the subject of were because it has not yet “seen” were. The sentence could be Those students felt
anxious or something else. Similarly, in a Minimalist approach, although there is a derivation that
will converge yielding an appropriate representation for Those students were arrested, at no point
in the derivation does Merge target that particular sentence or any other. Merge does only one thing,
namely, it creates a series of binary branching structures. When those and students are merged to
form the structure [[those] [students]], the merging operation itself is blind to the items being
merged. Further, although the LTP appears to operate from left to right, the direction is only a
bi–product of the derivation. The features listed in the lexicon specify that those, for example, is
a prehead characterizer; as a result, it precedes the noun it specifies in those students because of a
fact about English, not the direction in which the parser proceeds. Similarly, in Minimalism,
although the derivation appears to proceed from the inside out, as it were, beginning with the most
deeply embedded elements, the direction is again only a bi–product of the derivation.
Another similarity between the two models is that derivations access the features of lexical items.
Given the four lexical items above (those, students, were and arrested), both models make use of
the fact that students is plural, that arrested is a passive participle, and so on. In fact, the features
of lexical items, among other things, determine which derivations will converge and which will
crash. To see this, consider how each model derives a sentence like They were arrested. Briefly,
the LTP merges they and were to produce several structures in which they is in subject position and
were is either in support verb or main verb position. Those structures are merged with the structures
for arrested, which include its use as a passive participle, a past tense verb in the active voice, and
an adjective. The use of arrested as a past tense is immediately eliminated because were is already
a past tense verb. Further, arrested as a past tense active verb is transitive and the string contains
no noun phrase direct object. In Minimalism, arrested and they merge. After the merge, the features
of arrested and they are checked. Assuming the passive participle arrested, they cannot get its
nominative case checked against arrested, so they moves ultimately yielding theyi were arrested [e]i.
Chapter Eight 591
The above sketch of the two models reveals the major important difference between them. In the
LTP, the order of lexical items in a derivation never changes because the model has no movement
operations. In Minimalism, the order of lexical items in a derivation does change, precisely because
the model allows movement. Given this difference, many of the various conditions and principles
formulated in the two models are different, such as the principles formulated to account for
ungrammatical sentences and the possible positions in which an empty category can occur. For
example, consider a sentence like *They were arrested she, in which arrested is a passive participle.
In Minimalism, such sentences will crash because of the case on she.31 In our approach, such
sentences will crash because the passive verb arrested, which must C–command a null object, does
not do so. Of course, I have argued that the latter reason is preferable. As Palmer (1994: 117) notes
in his discussion of a universal description of passive, “It can be said that the basic functions of the
passive are the promotion of the Patient (or non–Agent) and the demotion or deletion of the Agent.”
Promotion of the Patient necessarily leaves the passive verb with a null object. In our terms, the
PCOMP of a passive verb must be [e], although the SCOMP can be overt (Hei was taught [e]i
French; Hei was given [e]i them; Hei was asked [e]i many questions).
A model which allows successive cyclic application of WH–Movement and abstract representations
containing an empty category like PRO will necessarily lead to a description of the nature of empty
categories that is quite different from the one which results if a model allows no movement and no
empty categories like PRO. Thus, the characterization of human language is quite different, in
particular, the characterization of the kinds of empty categories that are possible in human language
and the characterization of the positions in sentence structure that can contain those empty
categories. Unfortunately, such differences are often overlooked or slighted by proponents of
movement based theories who tend to view anything that looks like a movement analysis as a
notational variant (Harris 1993: Chapter Seven).
8.4 BINARY BRANCHING AND THE SYMMETRY OF SYNTAX.
We have argued that the merging of adjacent random elements, including empty categories, into
larger constituents must meet the specifications of the syntactic schema (243a), represented in a
generalized tree form in (243b), and that derivations will crash if they do not:
(243) a. [Xn ([+NML]) ([–NML]) Xm ([+NML]) ([–NML]) ] where m # n
b.
592 Chapter Eight
Throughout this book, we have repeatedly seen examples of this schema in all the trees and labeled
brackets we have discussed. For example, we have seen V3s and N3s such as the following
(limitations of horizontal space prevent the expansion of the topmost X3 posthead positions):
(244) Examples of V3 (compound verbs like fireproof, aircondition, pistol whip and parallel
park are very rare in English):
V3
+))))))))+))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))1) ) )
[+NML] [–NML] V3
+))))))))+)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) )3)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))),))))))))),
[+NML] [–NML] V2 [+NML] [–NML]
+)))))))),)))))))))))))))))))))))))))3)))))))))))))))))))))))))),))))))))),
+))))))))+)))))) /)))))))),)))))))),
John PST generously gave millions to charity last year

they PST recently fire proofed their home
he PST carefully taped the label to the cover

he PST taped the label to the cover carefully
probably he will try to help [u]

he will try to help [u] probably
whati didj she [e]j already spontaneously buy [e]i for him today shopping
whoi doesj she [e]j consider [e]i clever
doj they [e]j always really eat so much [u] so often
never hasi John [e]i ever really caused hardship to anyone deliberately
they PRS often happily take the kids for a drive on weekends
they PST then quietly left her alone purposely
a man PST was in the garden

there PST was a man in the garden
a mani PST was arrested [e]i here
there PST was a mani arrested [e]i here
she PST just saw a mani arrested [e]i walking her dog
she did sincerely want (him) to help [u]

she PST quietly told us that he left
it PRS is clear that he is ill

into the room there PST walked a strange man
(245) Examples of N3 (see also Chapter Seven, Page 500; recursions necessary to correctly
specify the referent for [e] are indicated in labeled brackets):
N3
+))))))))+))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))1) ) )
[+NML] [–NML] N3
+))))))))+)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) )3)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))),))))))))),
[+NML] [–NML] N2 [+NML] [–NML]
+)))))))),)))))))))))))))))))))))))))3)))))))))))))))))))))))))),))))))))),
+))))))))+))))))3)))))))))),)))))))),
John POS generous gift of millions to charity last year

that generous gift of millions to charity of John’s
her POS sincere desire to help [u]
a bouquet of roses from him
the teachers of math at MIT

the [N2 two experienced math teachers ]i to hire [e]i
those [N2 three young bay area practical nurses ]i they hired [e]i
all Ø John POS many tempting job offers last week in NYC
all those ten new syntax teachers at MIT
[N3 all those expensive grand pianos ]i whichi I love [e]i

[N3 too many Ø other rude house guests ]i to deal with [e]i
Ø six house guests too many
Chapter Eight 593
It is difficult to reconcile the structures above with theories of binary branching that have appeared
in movement analyses in the past twenty years, including Government and Binding theory (Chomsky
1981, Kayne 1984), the Principles and Parameters model (Culicover 1997), and the Minimalist
Program (Chomsky 1995). Further, as we noted in the last Section, it is inappropriate to try to relate
IP in those movement analyses with the V3 proposed here in examples like the following:
(246) a. [IP [DP he] [I' [I [V is]i [I PRS ]]] [VP [V e]i happy] ]
b. [V3 [N3 he] [C3 [C0 [V3 [V0 is]i ] PRS ]] [V2 [V0 e]i happy] ]
We have also seen that the schema in (243) correctly generalizes facts regarding the different kinds
of elements that can occur on each level as well as the constructions they can be part of. In addition
to the examples previously discussed, consider such data as the following which show that
determiners, quantifiers and possessives are subject to identical constraints, which we can attribute
to the fact that they are all specifiers residing on the N3 level:
(247) N3 Specifiers (determiners, quantifiers, possessives):
a. *I met those writers, and he met these ones

b. I met those writers, and he met these [u].
c. *I saw both cars, and he saw both ones too.

d. I saw both cars, and he saw both [u] too.
e. *I planted some trees, and he planted many ones.

f. I planted some trees, and he planted many [u].
g. *I know Mary’s sons, and he knows John’s ones.

h. I know Mary’s sons, and he knows John’s [u].
In contrast, consider the distribution of ones and [u] after N2 level modifiers and N1 level elements
of compounds in the examples just below (Note that many lexical items can be used in more than
one set; for example, a wise guy can be a guy who is wise, where wise is an ordinary N2 descriptive
adjective, or it can be a compound noun roughly equivalent to smart aleck; a cotton sack, can be a
sack made out of cotton, where cotton is an N2 modifier, or a sack for cotton, where cotton forms
a compound noun on N1. It is important to keep the categories and levels in mind when making or
evaluating judgements).
(249) N2 Modifiers (the modifier is a descriptive adjective):
a. I met those happy men, and he met these sad ones.

b. *I met those happy men, and he met these sad [u].
c. I give tough exams, and he gives easy ones.

d. *I give tough exams, and he gives easy [u].
594 Chapter Eight
(250) N2 Modifiers (the modifier is a noun expressing source or material):
a. I like wood floors, and he likes marble ones.

b. ?I like wood floors, and he likes marble [u].
c. I knit cotton sweaters, and he knits wool ones.

d. ?I knit cotton sweaters, and he knits wool [u].
(251) N1 Compound Nouns (the first element is an adjective):
a. *I know some smart asses, and he knows some wise ones.

b. *I know some smart asses, and he knows some wise [u].
c. *I met some wise guys, and he met some tough ones.

d. *I met some wise guys, and he met some tough [u].
(252) N1 Compound Nouns (the first element is a noun):
a. *I met those bank clerks, and he met these store ones.

b. *I met those bank clerks, and he met these store [u].
c. *I saw the guide dogs, and he saw the guard ones.

d. *I saw the guide dogs, and he saw the guard [u].
The above data reveal the following generalizations, which can be directly related to (243) and the
level distinctions that we have proposed:
(253) Distribution of ones and [u].

ones [u]
N3 Specifiers:
a. After N3 level determiners: * OK
b. After N3 level quantifiers: * OK
c. After N3 level possessives: * OK
N2 Modifiers:
d. After N2 level adjectives: OK *
e. After N2 level nominals: OK ?
N1 Compounds:
f. After N1 level adjectives: * *
g. After N1 level nominals: * *
The range of phrase structures that we have attempted to incorporate into a single framework in this
book is broader than that generally discussed within the binary principle, particularly as regards the
Chapter Eight 595
internal structure of noun phrases and the relationship between noun phrases and sentences.
Therefore, a thorough comparison between representations generated by the schema in (243) and
binary representations is not possible. On the other hand, given the repeated symmetry of syntactic
structures that we have investigated in a variety of languages, it seems that the principle of strict
binary branching is questionable, if not ill–founded (see Carrier and Randall 1992 for a ternary
analysis of resultatives). That said, the binary principle in itself seems much less destructive to
concerns of phrase structure raised here than proposals to make functional categories like Tense the
heads of phrases. Such proposals seriously distort syntactic structure, as we noted in our discussion
of the DP/CP analysis in Chapter Three, Page 196 ff. The representations generated by (243) can
easily be translated into binary branching structures as a comparison of the following reveals:
(254) a. [V3 he PST [V2 often deliberately [V1 [V0 makes] her angry ] ] ]
b. [V3 he [V3 PST [V2 often [V2 deliberately [V1 [V1 [V0 makes] her ] angry ] ] ] ] ]
The difference between (254a) and (254b) is that the representation in (254b) fails to account for
the fact that [+NML] categories precede [–NML] categories in both prehead and posthead position
on every syntactic level. We have argued that that failure is significant because it leaves
unexpressed an important generalization about syntactic structure. The argument holds whether or
not a model only allows binary branching, that is, a Minimalist analysis must still account for the
ordering constraints which place nominal categories before other categories in the examples in (244)
and (245). Still, representations like (254b) preserve level distinctions so that, for example,
expressing the relevant facts about the distribution of ones and [u] in the examples above remains
possible. Representing (254b) as a CP structure where the pronouns are DPs, on the other hand,
obliterates the symmetry of phrase structure that the schema in (243) makes transparent.32
8.5 INNATENESS AND UNIVERSAL GRAMMAR.
Given the analyses presented here, we see that a nonmovement approach to syntax will not fail
simply because languages allow word order variations or because they contain specific constraints
on word order in specific contexts. We have not suggested that the syntactic features we have
postulated, specifically such hierarchical features as [±X3L] and such linear features as
[±PREHEAD], will be relevant in the same degree in every language. The fact is ALL languages
must have some organizing principles to preserve the integrity of phrases. Some may use
hierarchical and linear features; others may use classifiers or complex agreement features based on
case, number, gender, and the like. That is not surprising. Every phonological feature capable of
being realized by a human vocal apparatus is not used in every language. Similarly, as we have
seen, every morphosyntactic and semantic feature is also not used in every language.
The essential point is that there are three sets of features that are directly related to the human
language apparatus, which can potentially be part of the grammar of a natural language. First, there
is a pool of phonological features like [±NASAL] that are based on the human vocal apparatus.
Second, there is a pool of morphosyntactic features based on human cognitive abilities (specifically,
limitations on short term memory), which help to preserve the integrity of phrases. In some
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languages, hierarchical features like [±X3L] and linear features like [±PREHEAD] are important;
in other languages, agreement features are important; in still other languages, both are important.
Third, there is a pool of semantic features based on human perceptual abilities, in particular, a set
of visually verifiable features like [±POSITIONAL] which define thematic relations. Languages
must select their features from these three pools. What makes languages and dialects different is that
they select different features and distribute the ones selected differently. Importantly, the use of
such features in the grammars of natural languages does not mean that language is unavailable to
people with cognitive or perceptual deficits. For example, in the cases of blindness, some mediating
or compensating factor can be used to understand the difference between She walked toward the
house and She walked away from the house.
Native language acquisition involves development in several related areas. First, the grammatical
competence of children increases over time as the steady growth in the variety and complexity of
the sentences children comprehend and produce reveals (Wells, C. 1985; Scarborough, 1990).
Second, the metalinguistic ability of children increases over time (Hakes, 1980; Tunmer, Pratt, and
Herriman, 1984). This includes their ability to think about language and comment on it, including
the ability to access grammatical competence in the performance of specific language tasks.
Third, the verbal memory ability of children increases over time, that is, children improve in their
ability to recall sequences of sounds, words, phrases, etc. Among other things, this ability has been
widely studied in attempts to understand the memory capacity of both children and adults, and much
has been learned during the last forty years. For example, it has been known for some time that
subjects’ recall of arbitrary material, linguistic or otherwise, can be facilitated substantially by
chunking (Miller 1956, Graf and Torrey 1966, Mandler 1967, Jarvella 1971, Johnson, N. 1970
1972), by linear ordering (Anderson, J. R. 1985), by hierarchical ordering (Jarvella 1971, Caplan
1972, Graf and Torrey 1966), and by cueing (Tulving and Psotka 1971, Hakes and Foss 1970). In
studies using material that is difficult to chunk, memory increases have been reported to be
extremely small (Dempster 1978, Hess and Radtke 1981, Ross, B. 1969).
Studies consistently show that verbal memory ability increases with age: “...older children and
adults can keep more information in mind and perform mental operations more rapidly than younger
children can” (Shaffer 1989). A common view regarding memory is that there is little, if any,
evidence supporting the idea that memory capacity per se increases over time, that is, the capacity
itself may be fixed at birth. The matter is reviewed in Dempster (1981), and more recent reviews
(Shaffer 1989) seem to confirm his conclusions. However, Halford’s (1982) theory of cognitive
development claims that capacity does increase with age, allowing for successively more difficult
problems to be solved, as underlying cognitive processes develop. Whether or not it can be shown
that capacity increases with age, one thing is certain: the ability to organize, prioritize, and access
linguistic information increases during language acquisition.
Since the advent of generative grammar, many linguists have argued that the linguistic abilities of
humans are autonomous, that is, they are not specializations of other cognitive subsystems though
they interact with those subsystems. The approach taken here is more conservative. We hypothesize
Chapter Eight 597
that universal grammar represents general cognitive abilities rather than linguistic abilities per se,
that is, what might be innate are a number of generalized information processing abilities applicable
to all perceived objects whether they be sounds, words, numbers, pictures, events, etc. Such abilities
might include the following:
(255) Information processing abilities which are specified by human biology (innate) and which
are linked to maturation.
a. The ability to sort and integrate data, e.g., words belong to categories like noun and
verb.
b. The ability to identify and categorize objects in terms of component features, e.g.,
nouns and verbs have features of agreement (singular or plural).
c. The ability to recognize sequential and hierarchical relationships, e.g., sentences are
organized into subunits with elements in specific linear orders.
d. The ability to identify boundaries between objects, e.g., linguistic units are separated
by cues and anchors.
e. The ability to recover missing segments whether they be missing portions of a

drawing or missing strings like [e] or [u].
The approach taken here does not preclude the fact that specific grammatical information may be
stored and processed in specific areas of the brain, or that trauma to specific language areas may
produce specific linguistic deficits without disturbing other cognitive processes, or even that the
human brain has areas devoted to language which do not seem to be present in subhuman primates,
e.g., the angular and supramarginal gryri. But the autonomy thesis seems to suggest much more,
namely, that the linguistic abilities of humans constitute an entirely new set of abilities, which do
not derive from general cognitive and perceptual abilities. It is that strict interpretation of autonomy
that seems questionable. The following passage from Lenneberg 1967:234-5 eloquently expresses
the view presented here:
“No biological phenomenon is without antecedents...
It is, for instance, entirely possible that certain specific principles of categorization
and recombination which we encounter again and again in the perception of speech
as well as in its production, in phonology, in syntax, and in semantics, are
modifications of physiological principles evident in motor coordination. The ability
to name may be related to perceptual and modified neurophysiological processes.
Certain innate neurophysiological rhythmic activities might be adapted to subserve
speech in a highly specialized way... These remarks are speculative and merely serve
to point out that the range of possible antecedents [of human linguistic ability] is vast
and that in addition to the abstract and logical aspects of language (most often
598 Chapter Eight
discussed now in the literature) there are also physiological prerequisites for speech
and language.”
The approach here, which attempts to link the description of language directly to human cognitive
and perceptual capacities, has a number of advantages. It characterizes the evolvement of children’s
innate capacities for language as very much influenced by experience, specifically, by exposure to
data and stimuli that are needed to activate, validate, and automatize such capacities, which in turn
would help to explain the huge dialectal and idiolectal variation that occurs among speakers of the
same language. Further, our approach helps to explain the dissolution of language when information
processing abilities are disrupted by disease, aging, or trauma, as well as the failure of language to
develop normally when conditions like severe sensory deprivation, retardation, or autism are
present. In short, if human linguistic ability is viewed merely as a particular specialization of
general cognitive and perceptual abilities which do vary among humans, then variation in linguistic
ability is both possible and expected.
It has now been over forty years since the first proposals for a movement approach to syntactic
analysis began to be widely discussed. To celebrate the event, the Linguist List announced an
on–line conference “The 40–th Anniversary of Generativism.” In that connection, Solovyev (1997)
posted the following e–mail:
To begin with, the question what ‘unsolved problems’ there are in the context of
generative grammar is difficult to answer satisfactorily because ‘problems’ only exist
in the context of an explicit theory, and theories change. That means that problems
disappear or are created when new theories arise. The minimalist program (Chomsky
1995) is a good case at hand. Some of the basic assumptions in this model are so
radically different from the ‘standard’ P&P [Principles and Parameters (Chomsky
1981, Culicover 1997)] model that we can almost start afresh, which means that
whatever was supposed to be solved, is either not a problem any more or has become
a problem again.
These sentiments are exactly those that I have expressed above. Since “we can almost start afresh”
and since the final product of linguistic research, namely, a characterization of the nature of human
language, depends very much on the computational paradigm investigated, at the very least, a
nonmovement approach must be considered in this apparently pivotal time in the history of formal
grammatical theory. We have shown that the semantic and syntactic model proposed in the
preceding chapters can successfully describe an interesting array of facts, once a nonmovement
approach is taken seriously. The result is that the model presented here constrains movement
operations in the maximal way possible. It eliminates them.
Chapter Eight 599
ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER EIGHT
1. Determiners and quantifiers fall into two broad classes in English, definite and indefinite (for
discussion, see Quirk, R. et al. 1985: Chapter Five). Definite determiners include the, this, that,
these, and those; indefinite determiners include a, no, and Ø. Definite quantifiers include all, both,
and half; indefinite quantifiers include some, enough, much, more, and most.
2. Browning (1996:249) claims that sentences like the following are grammatical:
(i) a. Lee thinks that, this book, you’ve already read.

b. Robin said that, to Leslie, you should give a new pen.
For me, such sentences are not grammatical. To account for them in the grammar of English, I
would be forced to treat them as “stylistic” rules in the phonological component paralleling the
following:
(ii) a. Lee thinks that, in the present circumstances, you should read this book.
b. Robin said that, as far as she is concerned, you should give a new pen to Leslie.
In the concluding sections of this chapter, I will discuss the treatment of word order variations
similar to those in (ii). Observe that other authors have marked sentences like (i) ungrammatical.
The following examples and judgements are from Emonds 1976:31:
(iii) a. *I fear (that) each part John examined carefully.

b. *Do you think socialist theory many Czechs would deny?
3. Of course, ambiguity is rampant in natural language; however, it only rarely involves clause
types. For example, consider the following:
(i) a. Don’t you do that!

b. Don’t you do that?
Examples like (i) are extremely hard to think up. Further, in speech, they are distinguished by
distinct intonation contours. The only example I know of in English where a string of words is triply
ambiguous (declarative, directive, or interrogative) is something like the following:
(ii) a. Everybody will stand up now.

b. Everybody will stand up now!
c. Everybody will stand up now?
Clearly, one purpose of language is to communicate. At the highest level of classification,

languages distinguish three major types of sentences: statements, commands, and questions. Each
600 Chapter Eight
has distinct properties quite simply because, at the highest level, speakers need to know whether
someone is making a declaration, issuing a directive, or asking for information. It is therefore not
surprising that languages contain constraints which prevent clause types from collapsing into each
other.
The overwhelming majority of the time, the core choices for English sentence structure are as
follows ([u] = understood; SV = Support Verb; 1MDE = INDICATIVE; 2MDE = IMPERATIVE):
(ii) Statements: [V3 [N3[N0 NOUN]] – [C3[C0[V3[V0 SV]][C0 1MDE]]] – [V0 VERB]]
(iii) Commands: [V3 [N3[N0 u]] – [C3[C0 2MDE]] – [V0 VERB]]
(iv) Questions: [V3 [C3[C0[V3[V0 SV]][C0 1MDE]]] – [N3[N0 NOUN]] – [V0 VERB]]
In terms of parsing, the majority of English sentence must map to one of the above three templates.
4. In terms of sentence grammar, all N3 are embedded; for example, the subject N3 of a declarative
sentence is embedded into X3 level prehead position of a V3. Main verbs (those dominated by the
root V3) are not embedded into anything. We distinguish common nouns and verbs from
noncommon nouns and verbs as follows (see Figure Seven I on Page 176, 177):
(i) a. All Nouns: [+NML, –VBL]

b. Common Nouns: [+NML, –VBL, +OPH]
c. Noncommon Nouns: [+NML, –VBL, –OPH] (Quantifiers and Pronouns)
(ii) a. All Verbs: [–NML, +VBL]

b. Common Verbs: [–NML, +VBL, +OPH]
c. Noncommon Verbs: [–NML, +VBL, –OPH] (Auxiliaries and Modals)
5. In Binkert 1984, 1994, a free resident can be absent, which is different from being Ø. The
revision here is necessary to account for the wider range of data we have considered.
6. This revision is also an extension and generalization of the ENC discussed in Chapter Three,
Page 232. The present condition applies to the former examples as well as the ones currently under
discussion.
7. Notice that a formal distinction between positions in the extended neighborhood and positions
in the immediate neighborhood in a nontransformational grammar is directly related to the
distinction between A'–positions and A–positions, respectively, in a transformational grammar. The
former are the landing sites in WH–Movement, positions that lack a 2–role and case; the latter are
the landing sites in NP–Movement, positions that have a 2–role and case.
Chapter Eight 601
8. The verb say can take either an indirect declarative or indirect interrogative as follows:
(i) Declarative: She wouldn’t say that John described it.

Interrogative: She wouldn’t say what John described.
The same is true of other verbs of saying:
(ii) Declarative: She mentioned/explained/reported that John described it.

Interrogative: She mentioned/explained/reported what John described.
These examples must be kept distinct in the present discussion. One of the motivations for the
analysis we propose is the very large number of verbs that govern multiple types of indirect clauses.
9. A [u] can occur in the extended neighborhood of (45g) as follows:
(i) [V3 whati did she ask [V3 [u] if [V3 John described [e]i ]
The ECC allows (i) given (45h); however, as we will see below, such sentences are ruled out by
WH–island constraints.
10. In the model described here the term “anaphor” includes all the following (see Binkert 1984,
1994):
(i) Personal Pronouns (he, him, his; she, her, hers; they, them, their, theirs, etc.)
(ii) Reflexive Pronouns (himself, herself, themselves, etc.)
(iii) Reciprocal Pronouns (each other, etc.)
(iv) Floating Quantifiers (all, both, each, etc.)
(v) WH–phrases.
(vi) Pronominal one(s).
(vii) The Empty Category [e].
The concept of a “linked chain” is necessary for examples like the following:
(viii) a. Whati do you think [V3 [e]i was accomplished [e]i by that [u]].
b. [N3 the [picture]i [V3 whichi [V3 John took [e]i ]] ]
11. Chomsky proposes that the feature [definite] might be used to account for the fact that noun
phrases with a definite determiner like the are less acceptable than those without a definite
determiner. I assume from this proposal that Chomsky finds both of the examples in (i) acceptable
and preferable to both the examples in (ii):
(i) a. Whoi did you see pictures of [e]i?

b. Whoi did you see a picture of [e]i?
602 Chapter Eight
(ii) a. ?Whoi did you see the pictures of [e]i?
b. *Whoi did you see John’s pictures of [e]i?
When it comes to examples like (ii–b), my intuitions jibe with Chomsky’s. However, examples like
(ii–a) seem perfectly grammatical to me.
12. I believe that the cliticization of POS to the possessor phrase in N3 is parallel to the
cliticization of MDE to the subject phrase in V3. Consider the following:
(i) John’s painting is good.

John’s painting the fence.
(ii) The man with the beard’s cut has healed.

The man with the beard’s cut the grass.
Such parallelism is transparent in the structures for N3 and V3 that we have proposed:
(iii) [N3 possessor POS [N0 head ]]

[V3 subject MDE [V0 head ]]
13. The word that has an extraordinary range of uses: it is a demonstrative determiner (that man),
a deictic (that’s great), a degree word (that famous), a complementizer (I know that he went), and
a relativizer (the man that I met). It’s meaning is much more generalized than if; thus, I believe that
we can safely consider if heavier than that in the present context. Since the that complementizer is
not marked for any feature like definite, in the manner paralleling definite determiners, it is not
surprising that that falls together with Ø in terms of acceptability. Both have very “light” meaning
compared to if and WH–phrases.
14. The that–trace effect has been widely discussed (Chomsky and Lasnik 1977: 450–451; Aoun
1985: 3; Chomsky 1986b: 47; Rizzi 1990: 29; Lasnik and Saito 1992: 16; Manzini 1992: 20;
Browning 1996: 237; Chomsky 1995: 86–87). I find it curious that all the aforementioned citations
use an example involving the second person. The typical illustrative sentences are as follows:
(i) a. Whoi do you think [e]i saw John?

b. *Whoi do you think that [e]i saw John?
For me, some sentences with third person subjects or less common main verbs deviate from these
generally accepted judgements. Consider the following:
(ii) a. ?Whoi didn’t John think [e]i won?

b. ?Whoi do you understand [e]i will go?
I have no explanation for the above differences; however, the astonishing uniformity of the examples
Chapter Eight 603
used to illustrate that–trace leads me to believe that other speakers may have similar judgements.
For a discussion of judgements regarding that–trace and other constructions, see Cowart 1997.
15. Recall (Page 442), that the structure for ETA is as follows:
(i) a. [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 was [N3 a man] [C3 in the room]]]
b. [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 was [N3 a man] [C3 dancing around the room]]]
c. [V3 [N3 there] PST [V2 was [N3 a man] [C3 arrested at the party]]]
Since the N3 found in the ETA refers back to the subject there, it must be in postverbal predicate
nominative position.
A sentence like Who does John believe that was in the room does have a grammatical interpretation
as a relative clause. Consider the following:
(ii) Who that was in the room did John believe?
I will turn to relative clauses shortly.
16. Sobin (1987: 58–59) reports the results of a survey of that–trace, whether–trace, and related
structures involving 42 volunteers from an undergraduate introductory level class in linguistics at
the University of Iowa. The students were asked to judge the grammaticality of various sentences.
Some sample sentences together with a tabulation of the judgements are given below. Basically,
active acceptance means acceptable, passive acceptance means marginal, and rejection means
ungrammatical.
Sentence % Active % Passive %Rejection

Acceptance Acceptance
(i) Who do you wonder whether saw Tom? 0.0 0.0 100.0
(ii) Who did you ask whether kissed Harriet? 0.0 4.8 95.2
(iii) Who did you say that kissed Harriet? 42.5 47.6 07.1
(iv) Who do you think that saw Tom? 16.7 47.6 35.7
Clearly, for this group of speakers, whether–[e] is considerably worse than that–[e]. These results
conform to our account of these constructions in that we postulate different mechanisms for
restricting the two constructions. Although the conditions on whether–[e] and that–[e] are both
stated in terms of C–command relations, the specific relations involved are different; further,
ultimately we derive the that–trace effects from constraints on parsing.
17. In referring to an N2 constituent, restrictive relative pronouns act like the pronoun one in He
met the young man from Cleveland, and I met the old one from New York. In referring to an N3
constituent, appositive relative pronouns act like personal pronouns such as he in The man from
604 Chapter Eight
Cleveland said that he would go.
18. Recall that the term “anaphor” includes reflexive, personal and reciprocal pronouns, floating
quantifiers, WH–phrases, pronominal one(s), and the empty category [e] (see Endnote 10):
19. As is well–known, during the Middle English period both the WH–phrase and the
complementizer could occur together (see Blake, N. 1992):
(i) First, I.../Am dwellynge with the god of thonder,/which that men callen Jupiter,
(Chaucer, House of Fame, 606–609; example from Fischer 1992: 302)
(ii) men shal wel knowe who that I am

(Caxton, 1485, R 67; example from Lightfoot 1979: 322)
Further, some constructions in Dutch allow both the relative and the complementizer (van Riemsdijk
and Williams 1986: 161).
20. I will use the words “invert” and “inversion” simply to mean reversed word order; no
movement at all is implied by this usage.
21. It is natural for languages to contain some dramatic difference between statements and
questions. After all, it is important for speakers to know whether they are asking each other for
information of giving it. One dramatic difference, used by English, involves the relative order of
the subject and the overt mode characterizer. Other languages choose different options. For
example, Latin suffixes –ne to the first word of questions, Japanese suffixes –ka to the last word of
questions, and so on.
22. These examples must be distinguished from the following:
(i) He wondered [V3 what she wrote about]. (indirect interrogative)

(ii) He wondered about [N3 what she wrote]. (free relative)
In (ii), the word about is in construction with wonder, not write; thus we have the following
contrasts:
(iii) *He wonders [V3 whatever she writes about].

(iv) He wonders about [N3 whatever she writes].
(iv) is analogous to (v).
(v) He wonders about [N3 what(ever) she proposes].

Chapter Eight 605
23. The structures in (138c) and (138d) do not contain [e] in the extended neighborhood because
an [e] in that position is always ruled out. Consider the following:
(i) *He asked [V3 [e] [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
(ii) *Whati did he ask [V3 [e]i [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
(iii) *Whati did he ask [V3 [e]i [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [e]i ]] ]]
(iv) *Whati did he ask [V3 [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [e]i ]] ]]
(v) *What did he ask [V3 [C3 if] [V3 John was reading [u] ]] ]]
(vi) Whati did he say [V3 [C3 Ø] [V3 John was reading [e]i ]] ]]
(i) violates the ECC since [e], a bound anaphor, is unbound; (ii), (iii), and (iv) violate the EBC since
[e] is bound outside its RD; (v) violates the ENC since what is unbound. By comparison, (vi) is
grammatical because both what and [e] are bound, and [e] is not in an RD.
24. For a discussion of word order variations in Latin, see Allen and Greenough 1931: §595 –
§599.
25. In his commentary, Page offers the following remark on per ego has lacrimas: “In adjuration
emphatic words are often violently misplaced for the sake of emphasis” (Page, T. 1962: 368).
Austin, R. (1955:101) asks us to “note how ego draws attention to itself by its violent displacement
of the normal word–order.” The language used in these comments is revealing: ego is not just in an
unusual position, it is violently misplaced/displaced. Further, the effect is localized to adjurations
involving the preposition per.
26. For an excellent outline of German word order, see Durrell 1983: Chapter 21, 453–484.
27. SOV word order for German is assumed in Bach 1962, Bierwisch 1963, Thiersch 1978, den
Besten 1983, Haider 1986, Kroch and Santorini 1991, Kiparsky 1995, and many other studies.
28. Given overall structural considerations for German, I see no reason why we must assume, as
in English, that there is an abstract mode characterizer in an immediate neighborhood when the SV
is in a higher recursion of V3. For example, instead of (199b), one might argue that the structure
is as follows:
(i) [V3 [N3 Heute]k [C3 ist]j [V3 [N3 er] [C3 e ]j [V2 ek ei ] [C3 an [V0 gekommeni ]] ]]
We have proposed such a structure for inversion in English, where the empty mode characterizer
in the immediate neighborhood (in boldface) prevents contractions like *Could they’ve gone. I am
unaware of any similar evidence for German. Barring none, I will assume the simpler
representation. Notice further that a structure like (i) violates the CEC discussed in Chapter Six
(Page 447).
606 Chapter Eight
29. Recall that indirect statements do not allow a WH–phrase to the left of the complementizer
that. In fact, this feature is what distinguishes them from indirect questions (see Section 8.1.2, Page
537).
30. The process of inserting empty categories into a given input sentence is identical to the process
of inserting empty categories when structures are built up at random from scratch. If a parser
receives as input a sentence like This book you really must read, it inserts an [e] in object position
of read after checking the lexical entry for read. Similarly, to generate the same sentence from
scratch, a parser will also check the lexical entry for read. Having assembled this book you really
must read, the parser must now either insert an it or an [e] bound to this book. Both processes make
use of the same lexical information in the same way. A [u] cannot be inserted into either the input
sentence or the assembled sentence because that would leave this book without a residence (it must
be a focused phrase since it occurs to the left of the subject). For the same reason, a fully specified
N3 cannot be inserted into object slot of read (*This book you really must read this book).
31. More precisely, the case of she cannot be checked and erased, so an uninterpretable feature
(specifically, nominative case) remains at the level of logical form causing the derivation to crash.
32. As we have seen, there are a few constructions which appear to violate the schema in (243):
(i) Successive adjectives (C3) on N2: He met the young, intelligent women.
(ii) Adverbs (C3) preceding quantifiers (N3) on V2: He worked enthusiastically then.
(iii) Double object (N3) constructions on V1: He gave the boy the toy
We have accounted for the above data with a level recursion, that is, in examples like (i) or (ii), each
element resides on a separate X2. Such an analysis is justified by sentences like (iv) where the
pronoun ones refers only to intelligent women and (v) where do so refers to work enthusiastically.
(iv) He met the young intelligent women, and I met the old ones.
(v) He worked enthusiastically then and continues to do so even now.
Justifying a recursive V1 for double object constructions is more difficult, particularly in the face
of examples like the following:
(vi) Children should not play with matches, so why did you give them them?
(vii) Children should not play with matches, so why did you given cm cm?
The parser/grammar described here is forced to place the two objects on separate V1 levels given
the schema in (243) and to do so without justification beyond (243) itself.
APPENDIX A: OUTLINE OF TECHNICAL TERMS
I include here a more formal summary of the semantic and syntactic framework we have proposed.
(1) Syntactic Features and Syntactic Categories (The Parts of Speech).
a. Syntactic Feature: a syntactic feature F is a feature from the set of primitives

{NUMBER, TENSE,...}.
b. Syntactic Category: a syntactic category is a syntactic feature matrix E

consisting of pairs :F, where : , {+, –, 1, 2, 3, etc.} and
where F is a syntactic feature.
1. Nouns: [+NOMINAL, –VERBAL]

2. Verbs: [–NOMINAL, +VERBAL]
3. Characterizers: [–NOMINAL, –VERBAL]
Note: All categories are endocentric.
(2) Semantic Features and Semantic Categories (Thematic Relations).
a. Semantic Feature: a semantic feature F is a feature from the set of primitives

{POSITIONAL, DISJUNCTURAL, CONJUNCTURAL...}.
b. Semantic Category: a semantic category is a semantic feature matrix E

consisting of pairs F:, where F is a semantic feature and
where : , {+, –}.
1. SOURCE: [+DISJUNCTURAL, –CONJUNCTURAL]

2. GOAL: [–DISJUNCTURAL, +CONJUNCTURAL]
3. LOCATION: ["DISJUNCTURAL, "CONJUNCTURAL]
608
(3) Structural Representation: a labeled bracketing of the form ["...X...], where " and X are
syntactic feature matrices.
a. Abstract Representation (AR): the structural representation containing all categories

(including empty categories) before the application of phonological rules, e.g., rules
that distribute affixes properly.
b. Phonetic Representation (PR): the structural representation after the application of

phonological rules.
(4) Projection, Phrase, Unit, Level Designator and Head.
a. Projection: a projection of a syntactic feature matrix E0, specified for a lexical entry,
is a syntactic hierarchy that includes E0 and (potentially) other syntactic feature
matrices. In English, the maximal projection of a syntactic feature matrix is E3, and
the minimal projection is E0.
b. Phrase: a syntactic feature matrix E3 representing the maximal projection of E0.
c. Unit: any sequence of syntactic feature matrices that is exhaustively dominated by

some En, where E is the projection of a syntactic feature matrix, where n is the Level
Designator, and where n , {0, 1, 2, 3,}.
d. Head: the terminal minimal projection E0.
(5) Dominance, Precedence, and Recursion.
a. Dominance: In a structure of the form ["...X...], if " and X are syntactic feature
matrices and if X is contained within the hierarchy ", then " dominates X. In such
a case, one also says X is bounded by ".
b. Immediate Dominance: In a structure of the form ["...X...], if " dominates X and if

there is no syntactic matrix $ which dominates X and is dominated by ", then "
immediately dominates X.
c. Precedence: In a structure of the form ["...X...Y...], if " and X and Y are syntactic
feature matrices and if X is to the left of Y, then X precedes Y.
d. Recursion: In a structure of the form ["...X...], if " dominates X and if " = X, then
" is a recursion of X and, equivalently, X is a recursion of ".
609
(6) Command.
a. C–command: A unit X C–commands a unit Y if X does not dominate Y, if Y does

not dominate X, and if the first branching unit En dominating X also dominates Y
b. Immediate C–command: A unit X immediately C–commands a unit Y if the first

branching unit En above X dominates Y and if there is no unit W which
C–commands Y from Em dominated by En (m < n).
c. L–command: A unit X L–commands a unit Y, if X C–commands Y, and Y is to the

left of the head of En.
d. R–command: A unit X R–commands a unit Y, if X C–commands Y, and Y is to the

right of the head of En.
syntactic feature matrices, if X dominates a fully specified lexical item or
WH–phrase, if Y is an anaphor, and if X can occur in the same context as Y.
a chain and if, when X is substituted for Y, Y and Z form a chain. The most deeply
embedded unit of the chain is the “terminal chain unit”; the least deeply embedded
is the “initial chain unit.”
(8) Residence, Residential Domains, and Neighborhood.
a. Residence: A residence is a specific position in syntactic structure associated with

a specific grammatical function (Subject, Object, Complement, etc.) or semantic
relation (Quantification, Specification, Modification, etc.). A resident is a phrase
occupying a residence. Some important residents for English are:
X3: specifiers (determiners, possessive case, tense)

X2: modifiers (adjectives, manner adverbs, predicate nominatives)
X1: complements (direct objects, secondary complements)
X0: head
1. Free Resident: freely overt or empty, e.g., I believe (that) he went.

2. Permanent Resident: obligatorily overt, e.g., I whispered (*that) he went.
610
b. Residential Domains (RD).
1. The RD of a free resident includes all items it L–commands.
2. The RD of a permanent resident includes all items it C–commands.
c. Immediate Neighborhood: the immediate neighborhood includes all items

C–commanded by one and the same X3 level prehead characterizer.
d. Extended Neighborhood: the extended neighborhood includes all items immediately

dominated by the X3 which immediately dominates the immediate neighborhood.
(9) General Conditions on Representations.
a. The Argument Head Condition (AHC); Page 536.
The arguments A1, A2, ...An of a verb V0i or noun N0i must be in the same immediate
neighborhood.
b. The Argument Predicate Condition (APC); Page 482.
The arguments A1, A2, ...An of a verb V0i must be clause–mates.
c. The Center Embedding Condition (CEC); Page 448.
Multiple instances of topicalization are not permissible when they lead to center
embedding and involve phrases lacking an overt morphosyntactic marker.
d. The Contraction Block Condition (CBC); Page 508.
e. The Distinct Reference Condition (DRC); Page 514.
No N3–[e] chain can fulfill more than one grammatical function for the same verb.
f. The Double Trigger Condition (DTC); Page 537.
1. Clause triggers (WH–phrases and complementizers) must reside in the

extended neighborhood.
2. The extended neighborhood can contain only one overt clause trigger.
611
g. The [e]–Binding Condition (EBC); Page 545.
h. The Empty Category Condition (ECC); Page 232 and Page 579.
An empty morphosyntactic category can only reside in a licensed position. The

licensing of empty categories depends on specific structures and principles.
1. [u] is an unbound empty category licensed in a position that can be filled by

a lexically specified phrase without altering the form of the sentence.
2. [e] is an bound empty category licensed only in base positions, that is, MAIN
VERB, AUX, SUBJECT, PCOMP, SCOMP, or MOD, the basic elements of
simple declarative sentences. The position occupied by [e] cannot be filled by
a lexically specified phrase without altering the form of the sentence. The
morphosyntactic features of [e] are identical to those of its referent.
i. The One Affix Condition (OAC); Page 186.
A word cannot be marked by more than one grammatical marker from the same set
of mutually exclusive grammatical markers, i.e., no more than one number, no more
than one tense, no more than one case, etc.
j. The Specifier Heaviness Condition (SHC); Page 539.
The heavier a specifier, the more it is a barrier to binding. In the unmarked case, the
heaviness of specifiers increases as follows:
N3: a. The indefinite determiners Ø and a/an.

b. Definite determiners.
c. POS.
V3: a. The complementizer Ø.

b. The complementizer that.
c. The complementizer if and WH–phrases.
k. The Strict Order Condition (SOC); Page 506.
The order of lexical items in any AR–PR pair must be the same. AR=Abstract
representation; PR=Phonetic Representation.
612
l. The Subject Exclusion Condition (SEC); Page 515.
The passive morpheme PSVP is a barrier to subject assignment.
m. The Support Verb Condition (SVC); Page 208.
A verb can function as a support verb if it is [+VBL, –OPH, –OCL] and, further, has
either one of the following characteristics:
1. The verb must assign no theta–roles, which means it must have no local
subject or complements.
2. The verb must be “morphologically heavy,” which means it must carry overt
markings for PERSON, NUMBER, and TENSE.
n. The Extended Neighborhood Condition (ENC); Page 232.
A WH–phrase or focused phrase residing in the extended neighborhood must be

bound to an [e] it C–commands.
o. The X Projection Condition (XPC); Page 505.
The projections of a syntactic feature matrix E are E0, E1, E2, E3, where E = E.
p. The X3 Cue Condition (XCC); Page 533.
Every embedded N3 and V3 with a common head must contain a cue.
q. The X3 Specifier Condition (XSC); Page 530.
1. A head can be specified by at most one overt N3 quantifier, one overt N3

subject, one overt C3 determiner, and one overt C3 TENSE/MODE.
2. All N3 must be specified by a C3 determiner; all V3 must be specified by a

TENSE/MODE (unless ruled out by independent principles such as the OAC).
613
(10) The English Noun Phrase Condition (NPC); Page 180 ff.
a. If the head of a noun phrase is a singular count noun, e.g., a noun like book, then the
noun phrase must have an overt determiner (a word like the or a); if the head is plural
(books), the determiner need not be overt (it can be Ø, the phonologically null DET).
b. Between the determiner and the head noun of a noun phrase, there can be no plural
noun.
c. Between the determiner and the head noun of a noun phrase, no other determiner can
occur.
d. Any item which might occur to the left of the determiner must be separated from it
by the preposition of.
e. A noun head must be separated from posthead elements by some overt marker such
as a preposition or complementizer.
614
615
APPENDIX B: GLOSSARY OF TERMS AND ABBREVIATIONS
[1CAS]: a morphological marker representing the nominative case.
[2CAS]: a morphological marker representing the accusative case.
[3CAS]: a morphological marker representing the possessive or genitive case.
[4CAS]: a morphological marker representing the dative case.
[5CAS]: a morphological marker representing the ablative case.
[6CAS]: a morphological marker representing the instrumental case.
[7CAS]: a morphological marker representing the locative case.
ABESSIVE (ABE): the positional thematic relation expressing the location away.
ablative: the morphological case, ablative.
ABLATIVE (ABL): the positional thematic relation expressing motion away.
ABSENTIVE (ABS): the positional thematic relation expressing the location where an entity isn’t.
accusative: the morphological case, accusative.
ADESSIVE (ADE): the positional thematic relation expressing a location near.
AFFECTIVE (AFC): the thematic relation of the animate or inanimate entity directly affected by
the state or action identified in the predicate.
AFFERENTIAL (AFR): the thematic relation of the quasi–positional entity to which an action is
directed.
AGENT: the thematic relation of the typically animate perceived instigator of the action identified
in the predicate.
ALIENABLE: transferable characteristics.
ALIENABLE NONPOSSESSIVE (NAPS): the thematic relation of the entity lacking an alienable
616
object or attribute.
ALIENABLE POSSESSIVE (APS): the thematic relation of the possessor of alienable objects or
attributes.
ALLATIVE (ALL): the positional thematic relation expressing motion towards.
ASSOCIATIVE (ASC): the thematic relation of the entity involved in the action or state identified
in the predicate which is not appreciably affected by that action or state.
ATTRIBUTIVE (ATT): the thematic relation of an inalienable quality or object predicated of

some entity.
BENEFACTIVE (BEN): the thematic relation of the entity, usually animate, for whose benefit the
action or state identified in the predicate occurs.
CASE: an relational morphological feature which indicates the relationship of substantives to other
words in a sentence.
CAUSAL (CAU): the thematic relation of the entity by which the action or state identified in the
predicate is caused.
CIRCUMSTANTIAL (CIR): the thematic relation of the circumstances under which a predicate
occurs.
COMITATIVE (COM): the thematic relation of the accompanier.
COMPARATIVE (CPR): the thematic relation expressing the object of a comparison.
COMPONENTIAL (CPT): the thematic relation expressing the part/whole relationship.
COMPOSITIONAL (CPS): the thematic relation of the entity out of which something is
composed.
CONGRESSIVE (CGR): stative or ["DSJ, "CNJ] relations.
[+CONJUNCTURAL] ([+CNJ]): a semantic feature specifying relations that emphasize joining,

union, association, etc.
[–CONJUNCTURAL] ([–CNJ]): a semantic feature specifying relations that do not emphasize

joining, union, association, etc.
CONSECUTIVE (CNS): the thematic relation which expresses the result or consequences of an
action or state.
617
dative: the morphological case, dative.
DELIMITIVE (DEL): the thematic relation which expresses the conditions from or under which
the action occurs.
DIFFERENTIAL (DIF): the thematic relation expressing the degree of difference.
[+DIMENSIONAL] ([+DIM]): a semantic feature specifying relations that focus on measurement,

either literally [+PST] or figuratively [–PST].
[–DIMENSIONAL] ([–DIM]): a semantic feature specifying relations that do not focus on

measurement, either literally [+PST] or figuratively [–PST].
[+DISJUNCTURAL] ([+DSJ]): a semantic feature specifying relations that emphasize parting,

separation, dissociation, etc.
[–DISJUNCTURAL] ([–DSJ]): a semantic feature specifying relations that do not emphasize

parting, separation, dissociation, etc.
EFFECTIVE (EFC): the thematic relation of the animate being or force typically perceived as
bringing about the action identified in the predicate.
EFFERENTIAL (EFR): the thematic relation of the quasi–positional entity from which an action
is directed.
ELATIVE (ELA): the positional thematic relation expressing motion out of.
[+ENVIRONMENT CHARACTERIZER] ([+ECH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a

category which can freely occur directly embedded in some X level of a C3.
[–ENVIRONMENT CHARACTERIZER] ([–ECH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a

category which cannot freely occur directly embedded in some X level of a C3.
[+ENVIRONMENT NOUN] ([+ENH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which

can freely occur directly embedded in some X level of an N3.
[–ENVIRONMENT NOUN] ([–ENH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which

cannot freely occur directly embedded in some X level of an N3.
[+ENVIRONMENT VERB] ([+EVH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which

can freely occur directly embedded in some X level of a V3.
[–ENVIRONMENT VERB] ([–EVH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which

618
cannot freely occur directly embedded in some X level of a V3.
EXPEDIENTIAL (EXP): the thematic relation expressing the means by which something is done.
[+EXTENSIONAL] ([+EXT]): a semantic feature specifying relations that emphasize the extent
of space or time.
[–EXTENSIONAL] ([–EXT]): a semantic feature specifying relations that do not emphasize the
extent of space or time.
[+FIRST ORDER] ([+FST]): a semantic feature specifying relations that express relationships
relative to a point, line or surface.
[–FIRST ORDER] ([–FST]): a semantic feature specifying relations that express relationships
relative to area or volume.
ILLATIVE (ILL): the positional thematic relation expressing motion into.
INALIENABLE: intrinsic and nontransferable attributes.
INALIENABLE NONPOSSESSIVE (NIPS): the thematic relation of the entity lacking an

inalienable object or quality.
INALIENABLE POSSESSIVE (IPS): the thematic relation of the possessor of inalienable objects
or attributes.
INGRESSIVE (IGR): nonstative or ["DSJ, –"CNJ] relations.
INSTRUMENTAL (INS): the thematic relation of the inanimate entity perceived as the instrument
by which the action identified in the predicate occurs.
instrumental: the morphological case, instrumental
LOCATIVE (LOC): the positional thematic relation which identifies the location or spatial
orientation of the state or action identified in the predicate.
nominative: the morphological case, nominative.
NONASSOCIATIVE (NASC): the thematic relation of the lacking entity or attribute neutrally
involved in the action or state identified in the predicate.
NONATTRIBUTIVE (NATT): the thematic relation of a lacking quality or attribute in some

entity.
619
NONCIRCUMSTANTIAL (NCIR): the thematic relation of lacking circumstances under which
a predicate occurs, including expressions of manner, condition, and concession.
NONCOMITATIVE (NCOM): the thematic relation of the non–accompanier.
NONCOMPARATIVE (NCPR): the thematic relation expressing the object of difference.
NONCONJUNCTURAL (–CNJ): relation that does not emphasize associative ideas.
NONDISJUNCTURAL (–DSJ): relation that does not emphasize dissociative ideas.
NONINSTRUMENTAL (NINS): the thematic relation of the inanimate entity perceived as the
lacking instrument by which the action identified in the predicate occurs.
NONSTATIVE: relations that indicate motion.
[+NOMINAL] ([+NML]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which is inherently

marked for NUMBER, PERSON, GENDER, and/or CASE.
[–NOMINAL] ([–NML]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which is not inherently

marked for NUMBER, PERSON, GENDER, and/or CASE.
ORIGINATIVE (ORG): the thematic relation expressing the entity from which something arises.
[+POSITIONAL] ([+PST]): a semantic feature specifying relation that have primary focus on
location, orientation, or movement in space or time.
[–POSITIONAL] ([–PST]): a semantic feature specifying relations that do not have primary focus
on location, orientation, or movement in space or time.
POSSESSIVE: the thematic relation of the possessor.
[+POSTHEAD] ([+PSH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which can freely occur
after the head of a phrase.
[–POSTHEAD] ([–PSH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which cannot freely

occur after the head of a phrase.
[+PREHEAD] ([+PRH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which can freely occur
before the head of a phrase.
[–PREHEAD] ([–PRH]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which cannot freely

occur before the head of a phrase.
620
[+PROXIMAL] ([+PRX]): a semantic feature specifying relations that involve contact between
the object and the location.
[–PROXIMAL] ([–PRX]): a semantic feature specifying relations that do not involve contact
between the object and the location.
PURPOSIVE (PUR): the thematic relation for the entity which specifies the reason or purpose for
the action or state identified in the predicate.
REFERENTIAL (REF): the thematic relation for the entity, usually animate, for whose interest
or in reference to whom something occurs.
RESULTATIVE (RES): the thematic relation of the entity created from the action or state
identified in the predicate.
STATIVE: relations that indicate rest.
[+TEMPORAL] ([+TMP]): a semantic feature specifying relations that focus on time.
[–TEMPORAL] ([ –TMP]): a semantic feature specifying relations that focus on place.
TERMINATIVE (TRM): the thematic relation of the entity or condition into which something is
transformed.
TYPOLOGICAL (TYP): the thematic relation which expresses an instance of a class.
[+VERBAL] ([+VBL]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which is inherently

marked for TENSE, ASPECT, VOICE, and/or MODE.
[–VERBAL] ([–VBL]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which is noy inherently

marked for TENSE, ASPECT, VOICE, and/or MODE.
[+X1 LEVEL] ([+X1L]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which can freely occur
directly embedded on the X1 level.
[–X1 LEVEL] ([–X1L]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which cannot freely
occur directly embedded on the X1 level.
[+X2 LEVEL] ([+X2L]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which can freely occur
[–X2 LEVEL ([–X2L]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which cannot freely occur
621
[ +X3 LEVEL ([+X3L]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which can freely occur
[–X3 LEVEL] ([–X3L]): a morphosyntactic feature specifying a category which cannot freely
occur directly embedded on the X3 level.
622
623
APPENDIX C: AN ILLUSTRATIVE NETWORK

(Correlative links continue on successive lines.)
NODE ONE LINK NODE TWO
ACT–1 CPT1 ASC–1

ACT–1 CPT1 EFC–1
ACT–1 TYP1 SPEECH_ACT–1
ADDRESSEE–1 AFR ILLOCUTION–1
ADDRESSER–1 EFR ILLOCUTION–1
SUBJUNCT–1 IPS [–VBL]
SUBJUNCT–1 TYP1 CHAR–1 (‘characterizers’)
SUBJUNCT–1 TYP1 NOUN–1 (‘nouns’)
AFR–1 CPT1 TO–1
AFR–1 IPS [–PST, –DSJ, +CNJ, –PRX, +FST, –EXT]
AFR–1 IPS [–VBL, –NML, +OPH, –OCL, +X1L, +X3L]
AFR–1 IPS UNDERSTOOD–1a
AIR–1 LOC2 FLY–1
ANIMAL–1 EFC SLEEP–1
ANIMAL–1 EFC SENSE–1
ANIMAL–1 APS HOME–1
ANIMAL–1 EFC LOCOMOTE–1
ANIMAL–1 IPS SPONTANEITY–1
ANIMAL–1 TYP2 LIVING_THING–1
AROUND–1 IPS [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ]
AROUND–1 IPS CIRCUITOUS–1
AROUND–1 IPS CURVILINEAR–1
ASCENT–1 EXP CLIMB–1
ASCENT–1 IPS UP–1
ASC–1 IPS [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX, –FST, –EXT]
ASC–1 IPS [–VBL, +NML, +OCL]
ASC–1 IPS REQUIRED–1
ASPECT–1 TYP1 ASPECT–1b
ASPECT–1 TYP1 ASPECT–1a
ASPECT–1 TYP1 ASPECT–1c
ASPECT–1a IPS [0ASP] (‘unmarked for aspect’)
ASPECT–1b CPT1 BE–1 (‘auxiliary verb be’)
ASPECT–1b CPT1 VERB5–1a (‘progressive active participle’)
ASPECT–1b IPS [1ASP] (‘progressive aspect’)
ASPECT–1c CPT1 VERB4–1a (‘perfective active participle’)
ASPECT–1c CPT1 HAVE–1 (‘auxiliary verb have’)
624
ASPECT–1c IPS [2ASP] (‘perfective aspect’)
BIRD–1 APS NEST–1
BIRD–1 EFC FLY–1
BIRD–1 EFC LAY_EGGS–1
BIRD–1 IPS BILL–1
BIRD–1 IPS WING–1
BIRD–1 IPS FEATHER–1
BIRD–1 TYP2 VERTEBRATE–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1 LOC2 ROW–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1 LOC2 SWIM–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1 TYP1 BODY_OF_WATER–1b
BODY_OF_WATER–1 TYP1 BODY_OF_WATER–1a
BODY_OF_WATER–1a IPS NARROW–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1a IPS LONG–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1a IPS CURRENT–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1a IPS ["DSJ, –"CNJ, +EXT] (‘movement over an expanse’)
BODY_OF_WATER–1a TYP1 STREAM–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1a TYP1 RIVER–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b NIPS CURRENT–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b IPS ["DSJ, "CNJ, +EXT] (‘no self–movement’)
BODY_OF_WATER–1b IPS FLAT–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b IPS CURVILINEAR–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b TYP1 POND–1
BODY_OF_WATER–1b TYP1 LAKE–1
CASE–1 TYP1 CASE–1a
CASE–1 TYP1 CASE–1b
CASE–1 TYP1 CASE–1c
CASE–1 TYP1 CASE–1d
CASE–1a IPS [0CAS] (‘unmarked for case’)
CASE–1b IPS [1CAS] (‘nominative’)
CASE–1c IPS [2CAS] (‘accusative’)
CASE–1d IPS [3CAS] (‘possessive’)
CAT_SPEC–1 TYP1 VERB–1
CAT_SPEC–1 TYP1 CHAR–1
CAT_SPEC–1 TYP1 NOUN–1
CAU–1 CPT1 FROM–1
CAU–1 IPS [–VBL, +OPH, +X1L, +X3L, –PRH]
CAU–1 IPS [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, –FST, +EXT]
CHAR–1 IPS [–NML]
CHAR–1 TYP1 DET–1 (‘determiners’)
CLIMB–1 IPS [klaym] (‘phonetic form of CLIMB–1’)
CLIMB–1 IPS climb (‘orthographic form of CLIMB–1’)
CLIMB–1 TYP1 CLIMB–1a
CLIMB–1 TYP1 CLIMB–1b
625
CLIMB–1a TYP2 NOUN–1 (‘noun use of CLIMB–1’)
CLIMB–1b CPT1 EFC–1
CLIMB–1b TYP1 CLIMB–1b1 (‘move upward’)
CLIMB–1b TYP1 CLIMB–1b2 (‘move vertically, up or down’)
CLIMB–1b TYP2 VERB–1 (‘verb use of CLIMB–1’)
CLIMB–1b1 CPT1 [+PST]
IPS N3
CLIMB–1b2 CPT1 [+PST]
IPS P3
COMMUNICATION–1 PUR ILLOCUTION
DECLARATIVE–1 CPT1 STATEMENT–1
DECLARATIVE–1 CPT1 AFR–1
DECLARATIVE–1 TYP1 THAT1–1
DESCENT–1 IPS DOWN–1
DETPL–1 COM NOUNPL–1
DETPL–1 IPS [2NUM]
DETSG–1 COM NOUNSG–1
DETSG–1 IPS [1NUM]
DET–1 IPS [0VBL, 0NML, +NUM, 0PER, +PRH, +X3L, +ENH, ...]
DET–1 TYP1 DETSG–1 (‘singular determiners’)
DET–1 TYP1 DETPL–1 (‘plural determiners’)
DOWN–1 IPS [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ]
DOWN–1 TYP1 DOWN–1a
DOWN–1 TYP1 DOWN–1b
DOWN–1a IPS INFERIOR–1
DOWN–1b IPS DOWNSTREAM–1
DRESS–1 CPT1 ASC–1
APS CLOTHING–1
DRESS–1 CPT1 AFR–1
IPS UNDERSTOOD–1b1
DRESS–1 CPT1 EFC–1
DROP–1 CPT1 [+PST]
IPS INFERIOR–1
DROP–1 CPT1 ASC
DROP–1 CPT1 EFC
IPS UNDERSTOOD–1a
EFC–1 IPS REQUIRED–1
EFC–1 IPS [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, +PRX, +FST, –EXT]
EFC–1 IPS [–VBL, +NML, +OCL]
EFC–1 TYP1 ANIMAL–1
626
EFC–1 TYP1 MISSILE–1
EFC–1 TYP1 FORCE–1
EFR–1 CPT1 FROM–1
EFR–1 IPS [–PST, +DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX, +FST, –EXT]
EFR–1 IPS UNDERSTOOD–1a
EFR–1 IPS [–VBL, –NML, +OPH, –OCL, +X1L, +X3L]
EYE–1 CPT1 TEAR_DUCT–1
FEATHER–1 TYP2 BODY_COVERING–1
FEMALE_HUMAN–1 IPS FEMALE–1
FEMALE_HUMAN–1 IPS HUMAN–1
FEMALE–1 IPS [2GEN]
FINITE–1 IPS [+PER]
FIN–1 INS SWIM–1
FISH–1 TYP2 VERTEBRATE–1
FISH–1 IPS FIN–1
FISH–1 IPS SCALE–1
FISH–1 EFC SWIM–1
FLY–1 TYP2 LOCOMOTE–1
FORCE–1 TYP1 OBJECT_OF_FORCE–1
FORCE–1 TYP1 NATURAL_FORCE–1
FORM–1 TYP1 FORM–1a (‘spatial form of an entity’)
FORM–1 TYP1 FORM–1b (‘impart a shape to’)
FORM–2 TYP1 FORM–2a (‘constitution of an entity’)
FORM–2 TYP1 FORM–2b (‘serve to make up or constitute’)
FORM–2a TYP1 PHYSIOLOGICAL_CHANGE–1
FORM–2a TYP1 COMPOSITIONAL_CHANGE–1
FORM–2a TYP1 MENTAL_CHANGE–1
GENDER–1 TYP1 GENDER–1a
GENDER–1 TYP1 GENDER–1b
GENDER–1 TYP1 GENDER–1c
GENDER–1 TYP1 GENDER–1d
GENDER–1a IPS [0GEN] (‘unmarked for gender’)
GENDER–1b IPS [1GEN] (‘masculine’)
GENDER–1c IPS [2GEN] (‘feminine’)
GENDER–1d IPS [3GEN] (‘neuter’)
GOAL–1 IPS [–DSJ, +CNJ]
HILL–1 ALL CLIMB–1
HILL–1 IPS VERTICALITY–1
HUMAN–1 AFC EMOTE–1
HUMAN–1 APS SPOUSE–1
HUMAN–1 APS TOOL–1
HUMAN–1 APS ETHICS–1
HUMAN–1 APS JOB–1
HUMAN–1 APS NAME–1
627
HUMAN–1 APS CLOTHING–1
HUMAN–1 EFC WRITE–1
HUMAN–1 EFC THINK–1
HUMAN–1 EFC REASON–1
HUMAN–1 EFC SPEAK–1
HUMAN–1 EFC USE_TOOLS–1
HUMAN–1 IPS LANGUAGE–1
HUMAN–1 IPS KINSHIP–1
HUMAN–1 IPS RACE–1
HUMAN–1 TYP2 PRIMATE–1
HUSBAND–1 APS WIFE–1
ILLOCUTION–1 TYP1 INTERROGATIVE–1
ILLOCUTION–1 TYP1 DECLARATIVE–1
ILLOCUTION–1 TYP1 IMPERATIVE–1
IMPERATIVE–1 CPT1 AFR–1
IMPERATIVE–1 CPT1 COMMAND–1
IMPERATIVE–1 TYP1 THAT3–1
IMPERATIVE–1 TYP1 INF2–1
INF2–1 TYP1 ORDER–1
INF2–1 TYP2 FORCE–1b
INS–1 CPT1 WITH–1
INS–1 IPS [–PST, –DSJ, –CNJ, –PRX, –FST, +EXT]
INS–1 IPS UNDERSTOOD–1a
INS–1 IPS [–VBL, –NML, +OPH, –OCL, +X1L, +X3L]
INTERROGATIVE–1 CPT1 EFR–1
INTERROGATIVE–1 CPT1 QUESTION–1
INTERROGATIVE–1 TYP1 WHQ1–1
JAGGED–1 TRM PAPER–1
AFC TEAR–2a
LADDER–1 ALL CLIMB–1
LADDER–1 APS VERTICALITY–1
LEV_SPEC–1 TYP1 X2–1
LIVING_THING–1 AFC GROWTH–1
LIVING_THING–1 AFC DEATH–1
LIVING_THING–1 EFC INGEST–1
LIVING_THING–1 EFC REPRODUCE–1
LIVING_THING–1 IPS LIFE–1
LIVING_THING–1 TYP2 ENTITY–1
LOCOMOTE–1 TYP2 MOVE–1
628
MAMMAL–1 TYP2 VERTEBRATE–1
MISSILE–1 TYP1 WEAPON–1
MISSILE–1 TYP1 TOOL–1
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1f
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1c
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1d
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1b
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1a
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1e
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1h
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1i
MODE–1 TYP1 MODE–1g
MODE–1a IPS [0MDE] (‘unmarked for mode’)
MODE–1b IPS [1MDE] (‘indicative mode’)
MODE–1b TYP1 MODE–1b1
MODE–1b TYP1 MODE–1b2
MODE–1b1 IPS DECLARATIVE–1 (‘making an assertion’)
MODE–1b2 IPS INTERROGATIVE–1 (‘asking a question’)
MODE–1c IPS IMPERATIVE–1 (‘giving a command’)
MODE–1c IPS [2MDE] (‘imperative mode’)
MODE–1d IPS SUBJUNCTIVE–1 (‘expressing a wish’)
MODE–1d IPS [3MDE] (‘subjunctive mode’)
MODE–1e IPS [4MDE] (‘conditional mode’)
MODE–1e IPS CONDITIONAL–1 (‘stating a condition’)
MODE–1f IPS [5MDE] (‘participial mode’)
MODE–1g IPS [6MDE] (‘gerundial mode’)
MODE–1h IPS [7MDE] (‘infinitival mode’)
MODE–1i IPS [8MDE] (‘modal mode’)
MODE–1i TYP1 MODE–1i6
MODE–1i1 IPS POSSIBILITY–1 (‘expressing possibility’)
MODE–1i2 IPS NECESSITY–1 (‘expressing necessity’)
MODE–1i3 IPS ABILITY–1 (‘expressing ability’)
MODE–1i4 IPS PERMISSION–1 (‘expressing permission’)
MODE–1i5 IPS OBLIGATION–1 (‘expressing obligation’)
MODE–1i6 IPS SUBJUNCTIVE–1 (‘expressing a wish’)
MODE–1i7 IPS CONDITIONAL–1 (‘stating a condition’)
MOVE–1 CPT1 ASC–1
629
MOVE–1 IPS ["DSJ, –"CNJ]
NML_FEAT–1 TYP1 CASE–1 (‘grammatical case’)
NML_FEAT–1 TYP1 GENDER–1 (‘grammatical gender’)
NML_FEAT–1 TYP1 NUMBER–1 (‘grammatical number’)
NML_FEAT–1 TYP1 PERSON–1 (‘grammatical person’)
NONFINITE–1 IPS [0PER] (‘unmarked for person’)
NOUNPL–1 IPS [2NUM]
NOUNSG–1 IPS [1NUM]
NOUN–1 IPS [0VBL, 1NML, +NUM, 3PER]
NOUN–1 IPS [+NML]
NOUN–1 TYP1 COMMON_NOUN–1
NOUN–1 TYP1 NOUNSG–1 (‘singular nouns’)
NOUN–1 TYP1 NOUNPL–1 (‘plural nouns’)
NUMBER–1 TYP1 NUMBER–1a
NUMBER–1 TYP1 NUMBER–1b
NUMBER–1 TYP1 NUMBER–1c
NUMBER–1a IPS [0NUM] (‘unmarked for number’)
NUMBER–1b IPS [1NUM] (‘singular’)
NUMBER–1c IPS [2NUM] (‘plural’)
OAR–1 INS ROW–1
OAR–1 CPT2 SMALL–VESSEL–1
PAGE–1 CPT2 BOOK–1
PAPER–1 AFC TEAR–2a
PAPER–1 CPS PAGE–1
PENGUIN–1 EFC[0] FLY–1
PERSON–1 TYP1 PERSON–1a
PERSON–1 TYP1 PERSON–1c
PERSON–1 TYP1 PERSON–1d
PERSON–1 TYP1 PERSON–1b
PERSON–1a IPS [0PER] (‘unmarked for person’)
PERSON–1b IPS [1PER] (‘first person’)
PERSON–1c IPS [2PER] (‘second person’)
PERSON–1d IPS [3PER] (‘third person’)
PHRASE–1 CPT1 CAT_SPEC–1
PHRASE–1 CPT1 LEV_SPEC–1
PRIMATE–1 TYP2 MAMMAL–1
PREY–1 PUR–1 PROWL–1
PROWL–1 CPT1 [+PST, +EXT]
IPS N3
PROWL–1 CPT1 EFC–1
READ–1 CPT1 ASC–1
IPS UNDERSTOOD–1a1
READ–1 CPT1 ASC–1
IPS READING_MATERIAL–1
630
REST–1 IPS ["DSJ, "CNJ]
ROAMING–1 EXP–1 PROWL–1
ROAMING–1 IPS CURVILINEAR–1
ROAMING–1 IPS CIRCUITOUS–1
ROBIN–1 TYP2 BIRD–1
ROPE–1 INS CLIMB–1
ROW–1 IPS [ro] (‘phonetic form of ROW–1’)
ROW–1 IPS row (‘orthographic form of ROW–1’)
ROW–1 TYP1 ROW–1a
ROW–1 TYP1 ROW–1b
ROW–1a TYP2 NOUN–1 (‘the noun use of ROW–1’)
ROW–1b CPT1 EFC–1
ROW–1b TYP1 ROW–1b1 (‘row a person or vessel’)
ROW–1b TYP1 ROW–1b2 (‘row a body of water’)
ROW–1b TYP2 VERB–1 (‘the verb use of ROW–1’)
ROW–1b1 CPT1 [+PST, "DSJ, CNJ]
IPS P/N3
ROW–1b1 CPT1 ASC–1
ROW–1b1 CPT1 INS–1
IPS OAR–1
ROW–1b1 CPT1 LOC2
IPS BODY_OF_WATER–1
ROW–1b2 CPT1 [+PST, "DSJ, $CNJ]
IPS N3
SCALE–1 TYP2 BODY_COVERING–1
SMOKE–1 CAU TEAR–1a
SOURCE–1 IPS [+DSJ, –CNJ]
SPEECH_ACT–1 TYP1 PROPOSITION–1
SPEECH_ACT–1 TYP1 PERLOCUTION–1
SPEECH_ACT–1 TYP1 UTTERANCE–1
SPEECH_ACT–1 TYP1 ILLOCUTION–1
SPEECH_ACT_VERB–1 CPT1 EFC–1
CPT1 NOUN–1
IPS HUMAN–1
SPEECH–1 INS ILLOCUTION–1
STEALTH–1 CIR–1 PROWL–1
SWIM–1 TYP2 LOCOMOTE–1
SYNCAT–1 TYP1 VERB–1 (‘verbs’)
SYNCAT–1 TYP1 SUBJUNCT–1 (‘subjuncts’)
TEAR_DUCT–1a ELA TEAR–1a
TEAR–1 TYP1 TEAR–1a (‘secretion of tear ducts’)
TEAR–1 TYP1 TEAR–1b (‘shed tears’)
631
TEAR–1a CPT1 TEAR–1a1
TEAR–1a TYP2 NOUN–1
TEAR–1a TYP2 BODILY_FLUID–1
TEAR–1a1 IPS [tir] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1a1’)
TEAR–1a1 IPS tear (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1a1’)
TEAR–1a1 TYP2 NOUNSG–1
TEAR–1a2 IPS [tirz] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1a2’)
TEAR–1a2 IPS tears (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1a2’)
TEAR–1a2 TYP2 NOUNPL–1
TEAR–1b CPT1 CAU–1
TEAR–1b CPT1 TEAR–1a
TEAR–1b CPT1 AFR–1
TEAR–1b TYP1 TEAR–1b2
TEAR–1b TYP2 VERB–1
TEAR–1b1 IPS [tir] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1b1’)
TEAR–1b1 IPS tear (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1b1’)
TEAR–1b1 TYP2 VERB1–1
TEAR–1b2 IPS [tirz] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1b2’)
TEAR–1b2 IPS tears (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1b2’)
TEAR–1b3 IPS [tird] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1b3’)
TEAR–1b3 IPS teared (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1b3’)
TEAR–1b4 IPS [tird] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1b4’)
TEAR–1b4 IPS teared (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1b4’)
TEAR–1b5 IPS [tiriõ] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–1b5’)
TEAR–1b5 IPS tearing (‘orthographic form of TEAR–1b5’)
TEAR–2 TYP1 TEAR2a (‘damage from being torn’)
TEAR–2 TYP1 TEAR2b (‘separate forcefully’)
TEAR–2a TYP2 NOUN–1
TEAR–2a1 IPS [tær] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–2a1’)
TEAR–2a1 IPS tear (‘orthographic form of TEAR–2a1’)
TEAR–2a1 TYP2 NOUNSG–1
TEAR–2a2 IPS [tærz] (‘phonetic form of TEAR–2a2’)
TEAR–2a2 IPS tears (‘orthographic form of TEAR–2a2’)
632
TEAR–2a2 TYP2 NOUNPL–1
TEAR–2b CPT1 TEAR–2a
TEAR–2b CPT1 ASC–1
TEAR–2b CPT1 EFC–1
TEAR–2b CPT1 EFR–1
TEAR–2b TYP2 VERB–1
TENSE–1 TYP1 TENSE–1d
TENSE–1 TYP1 TENSE–1a
TENSE–1 TYP1 TENSE–1c
TENSE–1 TYP1 TENSE–1b
TENSE–1a IPS [0TNS] (‘unmarked for tense’)
TENSE–1b IPS [1TNS] (‘present tense’)
TENSE–1b TYP1 TENSE–1b2
TENSE–1b1 IPS PUNCTUAL–1 (‘a single event’)
TENSE–1b2 IPS HABITUAL–1 (‘a customary event’)
TENSE–1b3 IPS HISTORICAL–1 (‘past event in present’)
TENSE–1c IPS [2TNS] (‘past tense’)
TENSE–1c IPS PUNCTUAL–1 (‘a single event’)
TENSE–1d CPT1 WILL–1 (‘the modal will’)
TENSE–1d CPT1 VERB1–1d (‘modal form of a verb, e.g., go’)
TENSE–1d IPS [3TNS] (‘future tense’)
TENSE–1d IPS PUNCTUAL–1 (‘a single event’)
THAT4–1 TYP1 SAY–1
THAT–1 IPS DEICTIC–1
THAT–1 IPS DEFINITE–1
THAT–1 TYP1 THAT–1a
THAT–1 TYP1 THAT–1b
THAT–1a IPS [ðæt] (‘phonetic form of THAT–1a’)
THAT–1a IPS that (‘orthographic form of THAT–1a’)
THAT–1a TYP2 DETSG–1
THAT–1b IPS those (‘orthographic form THAT–1b’)
THAT–1b IPS [ðoz] (‘phonetic form THAT–1b’)
THAT–1b TYP2 DETPL–1
TRANSITIVITY–1 CPT1 LEV_SPEC–1
TYP1 X1–1
CPT1 N3
UNDERSTOOD–1 TYP1 UNDERSTOOD–1b
UNDERSTOOD–1 TYP1 UNDERSTOOD–1a
UNDERSTOOD–1a IPS ELLIPTICAL–1
UNDERSTOOD–1b TYP1 UNDERSTOOD–1b1
UNDERSTOOD–1b TYP1 UNDERSTOOD–1b2
UNDERSTOOD–1b1 IPS SELF–1
633
UNDERSTOOD–1b2 IPS BOUND_POSSESSIVE–1
UP–1 IPS [+PST, "DSJ, –"CNJ]
UP–1 TYP1 UP–1a
UP–1 TYP1 UP–1b
UP–1a IPS SUPERIOR–1
UP–1b IPS UPSTREAM–1
VBL_FEAT–1 TYP1 ASPECT–1 (‘grammatical aspect’)
VBL_FEAT–1 TYP1 MODE–1 (‘grammatical mode’)
VBL_FEAT–1 TYP1 NUMBER–1 (‘grammatical number’)
VBL_FEAT–1 TYP1 PERSON–1 (‘grammatical person’)
VBL_FEAT–1 TYP1 TENSE–1 (‘grammatical tense’)
VBL_FEAT–1 TYP1 VOICE–1 (‘grammatical voice’)
VERB–1 IPS [–NML, +VBL]
VERTEBRATE–1 TYP2 ANIMAL–1
VERTICALITY–1 IPS UP–1
VERTICALITY–1 IPS DOWN–1
VERB1–1 TYP1 VERB1–1c (‘subjunctive’)
VERB1–1 TYP1 VERB1–1e (‘infinitive’)
VERB1–1 TYP1 VERB1–1d (‘modal’)
VERB1–1 TYP1 VERB1–1a (‘present indicative’)
VERB1–1 TYP1 VERB1–1b (‘imperative’)
VERB1–1a IPS [1TNS, 0ASP, 1VOI, 1MDE, +PER, +NUM]
VERB1–1a TYP1 VERB1_1a2
VERB1–1a1 IPS [1PER, 1NUM] (‘first person singular’)
VERB1–1a2 IPS [1PER, 2NUM] (‘first person plural’)
VERB1–1a3 IPS [2PER, 1NUM] (‘second person singular’)
VERB1–1a4 IPS [2PER, 2NUM] (‘second person plural’)
VERB1–1a5 IPS [3PER, 2NUM] (‘third person plural’)
VERB1–1b IPS [1TNS, 0ASP, +VOI, 2MDE, 2PER, +NUM]
VERB1–1c IPS [0TNS, 0ASP, +VOI, 3MDE, +PER, +NUM]
VERB1–1d IPS [0TNS, 0ASP, 0VOI, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
VERB1–1e IPS [0TNS, 0ASP, 0VOI, 5MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
VERB2–1 IPS [1TNS, 0ASP, 1VOI, 1MDE, 3PER, 1NUM]
VERB3–1 IPS [2TNS, 0ASP, 1VOI, 1MDE, +PER, +NUM]
VERB4–1 TYP1 VERB4–1b (‘passive participle’)
VERB4–1 TYP1 VERB4–1a (‘perfect active participle’)
VERB4–1a IPS [0TNS, 1VOI, 2ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
VERB4–1a IPS [0TNS, 3VO1, 2ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
VERB5–1 TYP1 VERB5–1b (‘gerundial nominal’)
VERB5–1 TYP1 VERB5–1a (‘progressive active participle’)
634
VERB5–1a IPS [0TNS, 1VOI, 1ASP, 4MDE, 0PER, 0NUM]
VERB5–1b IPS [0TNS, 1VOI, 0ASP, 5MDE, 3PER, 1NUM]
VERB–1 TYP1 VERB2–1 (‘third singular present form’)
VERB–1 TYP1 VERB3–1 (‘past tense form’)
VERB–1 TYP1 VERB4–1 (‘past participle form’)
VERB–1 TYP1 VERB5–1 (‘present participle form’)
VERB–1 TYP1 VERB1–1 (‘bear stem form’)
VOICE–1 TYP1 VOICE–1d
VOICE–1 TYP1 VOICE–1b
VOICE–1 TYP1 VOICE–1a
VOICE–1 TYP1 VOICE–1c
VOICE–1a IPS [0VOI] (‘unmarked for voice’)
VOICE–1b IPS [1VOI] (‘active voice’)
VOICE–1c IPS [2VOI] (‘middle voice’)
VOICE–1d CPT1 VERB4–1b (‘passive participle’)
VOICE–1d CPT1 BE–1 (‘the auxiliary verb be’)
VOICE–1d IPS [3VOI] (‘passive voice’)
WATER–1 LOC2 SWIM–1
WAVE–1 IPS [wev]
WAVE–1 IPS CURVILINEAR–1
WAVE–1 TYP1 WAVE–3 (‘swell of water’)
WAVE–1 TYP1 WAVE–4 (‘variation in energy’)
WAVE–1 TYP1 WAVE–2 (‘motion of the hand’)
WAVE–2 TYP1 WAVE–2a
WAVE–2 TYP1 WAVE–2b
WAVE–2a TYP2 NOUN–1 (‘the noun use of WAVE–2’)
WAVE–2b CPT1 [+PST]
WAVE–2b CPT1 ASC–1
WAVE–2b CPT1 ASC–1
IPS HAND–1
WAVE–2b CPT1 EFC–1
WAVE–2b TYP2 BODY_PART_VERB–1
WAVE–2b TYP2 VERB–1 (‘the verb use of WAVE–2’)
WHQ1–1 TYP1 ASK–1
WIFE–1 APS HUSBAND–1
WING–1 INS FLY–1
WOMAN–1 TYP1 WOMAN–1b
WOMAN–1 TYP1 WOMAN–1a
WOMAN–1 TYP2 FEMALE_HUMAN–1
WOMAN–1 TYP2 COMMON_NOUN–1
WOMAN–1a IPS woman (‘orthographic form of WOMAN–1a’)
WOMAN–1a IPS [wmcn] (‘phonetic form of WOMAN–1a’)
WOMAN–1a TYP2 NOUNSG–1
635
WOMAN–1b IPS [wwmcn] (‘phonetic form of WOMAN–1b’)
WOMAN–1b IPS women (‘orthographic form of WOMAN–1b’)
WOMAN–1b TYP2 NOUNPL–1
WREN–1 TYP2 BIRD–1
X1–1 CPT1 X0–1
X2–1 CPT1 X1–1
X3–1 CPT1 X2–1
636
637
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INDEX (TO BE EDITED)
ABE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 87, 615

Abelson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 16, 655
ABESSIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 25, 26, 28, 87, 295, 298, 300, 305, 316, 615
ABL . . . xvi, 87, 91, 92, 96, 99, 101, 104, 106, 124, 125, 130-133, 337-340, 345, 347-354, 392,
394, 405, 453, 473, 615
ablative . i, iii, xvi, 1-5, 14, 25, 26, 28, 29, 32, 40-43, 42, 45, 54, 87, 91, 100, 129, 153, 155, 264,
267, 272-279, 286-293, 295-300, 302-306, 308, 316, 405, 438, 454, 615
ablative of agent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298
ablative of manner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii, 297, 454
ablative of means . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 297, 298
ablatives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 297
Abney . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 198, 201, 637
Abney’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
Abraham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573, 637, 643, 653
ABS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 87, 110, 615
ABSENTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 25, 28, 34, 35, 87, 295, 298, 300, 615
ABSENT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 353
accusative . . . 6, 24, 25, 31, 46, 100, 151, 153, 155, 183, 200, 230, 231, 264-266, 272-286, 288-
292, 305, 307, 308, 402, 561, 565, 615
Ackema . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429, 637
acquisition . . . . . . . 33, 38, 115, 202, 205, 436, 586, 596, 638, 640, 643, 645, 646, 651, 654, 656
ACT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 477, 623, 630
ADDRESSEE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 623
ADDRESSER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 623
ADE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 87, 211, 324, 327, 615
ADESSIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 25, 28, 31, 32, 64, 87, 307, 324, 615
adjective . . ii, 42, 52, 114, 116, 155, 156, 160, 161, 165, 166, 169, 170, 172, 173, 176, 183, 184,
188, 192-196, 198, 201-203, 209, 213, 214, 226, 272, 277, 351, 470, 471, 499, 502, 590,
593, 594
adjectives . . . xv, 5, 30, 62, 114-116, 151, 153, 155, 156, 162, 164, 165, 168-170, 172, 173, 179,
180, 182, 183, 193, 194, 196, 198, 199, 203, 204, 210, 211, 214, 230, 267-270, 277, 307,
324, 418, 442, 448, 469-471, 479, 501, 533, 594, 595, 609
adjunct . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 188, 197
adjuncts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 161, 497
adverb . . . . . ii, iii, 81, 116, 172-174, 176, 179, 192, 194-196, 212, 219, 227, 362, 431, 448, 454
adverbs . xv, 62, 115, 151, 155, 156, 160, 161, 164, 170, 172-174, 179, 194, 196, 202, 212, 215,
225-228, 324, 448, 454, 501, 595, 609
AFC . xvi, 43, 50, 87, 90-97, 99, 105, 107-113, 121, 123-127, 130-140, 263, 266, 269-273, 281,
322, 323, 327, 337-342, 345, 347-358, 374, 392-397, 399, 404, 408, 429, 430, 432, 433,
453, 473, 474, 485, 486, 511, 512, 615, 626, 627, 629
AFC_PCOMP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 340-342, 352, 355, 356, 394, 395, 397, 399
660
AFFECTIVE . . xvi, 41, 43, 44, 47, 50-52, 54, 58, 87, 89, 90, 121, 127, 263, 269, 281, 320, 615
AFFERENTIAL . xvi, 43, 44, 47, 48, 50-54, 87, 91, 127, 263, 267, 269, 315, 327, 328, 355, 406,
476, 615
AFR . xvi, 43, 50, 87, 93-96, 98-103, 106, 110-114, 123, 124, 127, 134-140, 263, 266, 269, 273,
327, 341, 342, 355-358, 374, 392-395, 397, 399-402, 406-408, 411, 412, 429-431, 437,
453, 454, 473, 474, 485-488, 571-573, 615, 623
AFR_PCOMP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355, 356, 394, 395, 397
AFR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 365, 411, 412, 623, 625, 627, 631
AGENT . . . i-iii, xvi, 1, 29, 33, 39, 41, 51, 54, 57, 89-92, 94, 121, 196, 263, 298, 322, 323, 363,
393, 398, 400, 401, 421, 423, 428, 431, 433, 435, 436, 485, 591, 615
AGENTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 41, 156, 159, 269
AGENT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326, 337, 339, 404
AGENT–2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326, 339, 404
AHC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 484, 536, 610
Akmajian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 642, 643
Alfonso . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301, 302, 637
alienable possession . . . 37, 38, 40, 42, 44, 49, 107-109, 111, 113, 123, 127, 306, 341, 342, 378,
393, 411, 418
Allan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 637
allative . i, xvi, 1, 6, 8, 25, 26, 28, 31, 32, 44, 45, 54, 55, 63, 64, 87, 91, 129, 267, 280, 307, 405,
438, 616
Allen . . . . . . 4, 42-44, 153, 183, 273, 274, 280, 287, 293, 295-298, 303, 562, 564, 637, 647, 648
Allerton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637
Alsina . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637
alternative question . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583
ALTRUISM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
anaphora . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400, 637, 638
Ancient Greek . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 1, 4, 11, 14, 43, 46, 129, 173, 304-306, 316, 433
Anderson, J. M. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 3
Anderson, J. R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596
Anderson, S. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
ANIMAL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57-59, 322, 323, 377, 428, 623, 625, 633
ANTERIOR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 61, 62
Aoun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542, 637
APC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 482, 483, 610
Arcelli . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637
Archangeli . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 637
Argument Head Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 484, 536, 610
Argument Predicate Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 482, 610
AROUND–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 419-421, 623
ASC . xvi, 50, 86, 87, 90-96, 99-102, 104, 106, 108-111, 113, 114, 122-125, 127, 130-140, 266,
269-272, 281, 322-324, 326-329, 337-357, 374, 391-393, 397-405, 407-409, 412, 414, 416,
422, 437, 454, 473, 474, 485, 571-573, 616, 625
ASCENT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416-418, 623
661
ASC–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373, 411-413, 415, 416, 420, 623, 625, 628-630, 632, 634
ASPECT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368, 623, 633
Aspillera . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 638
ASSOCIATIVE . . xvi, 49, 50, 55, 81, 86, 87, 90, 96, 98, 115-118, 121, 127, 269, 281, 288, 296,
299, 300, 302, 315, 319, 323, 325, 328-330, 338, 339, 397, 404, 572, 616, 619, 645, 647
ATT . . . xvi, 50, 87, 90-92, 97, 109, 110, 113, 122-124, 130-140, 322, 341, 357, 358, 374, 391-
393, 429, 430, 616
ATTRIBUTIVE . . . . . . xvi, 50, 81, 87, 90, 94, 114-117, 121, 166, 295, 319, 321, 329, 330, 616
Austin, J. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475
Austin, R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 563, 638
auxiliary verb . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213, 226, 372, 634
Avestan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14, 306
Ayutla Mixtec . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 647
Babcock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273, 638
Bach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 486, 574, 638, 644
Baker, C. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638
Baker, M. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 329
Barnum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 638
Barss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400, 638
base position . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 538, 583-585
Battig . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 332, 638
Battye . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638, 649
Beekes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53, 307, 638
Belletti . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269, 565-568, 638
Bemba . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
BEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 44, 50, 127, 269, 273, 281, 616
BENEFACTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 44-46, 49-53, 127, 267-269, 281, 616
Benjamin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 158, 641
Bennett . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 183, 297, 638
Berman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 435, 638
Bierwisch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574, 639
binding . . . . iv, 1, 85, 230, 400, 446, 469, 537-540, 546, 550, 579, 584, 585, 588, 593, 609, 611,
642, 646, 647, 658
Binkert . . 1, 2, iv, v, 156, 158, 161, 165, 169, 172, 173, 180, 184, 198, 199, 208, 212, 263, 265,
288, 291, 358, 430, 489, 503, 535, 536, 538, 548, 561, 639
BIRD–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56-59, 359, 363, 377, 378, 624, 630, 635
Birner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440, 658
Blake, B. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 91
Blake, N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554
BODY_OF_WATER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 322, 418-420, 624, 630
Bolinger . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 532, 639
Bolkestein . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 639
Borras . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11, 306, 639
Borsley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156, 639
662
Bowen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 639
Bower . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 648
Bowerman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427, 435, 436, 640
Bowers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640
Boyes–Braem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 654
Braine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 435, 436, 640
Brainerd . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 643
Bresnan . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 106, 163, 173, 327, 362, 437, 438, 440, 532, 543, 553, 640, 641, 647
Briscoe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363, 641
Brody . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579, 588, 641
Brown, R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33, 435
Browning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 530, 542, 641
Buck . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306, 641, 647
BURST–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Butt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 158, 641
Bybee . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153, 641
BY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125, 325, 339, 397, 401, 404
Caplan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202, 547, 596, 641
Carrier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430, 595, 641
case . . i, iii, v, 1-9, 11, 14, 15, 25, 26, 31-33, 39-41, 43, 42, 44-46, 49, 51, 54, 62, 63, 91, 92, 99,
121, 123, 126-129, 151-156, 160-162, 164, 166, 169, 172, 183, 184, 186, 187, 194, 196,
198-200, 203, 206, 208, 220, 221, 230, 231, 234, 263-267, 272, 274-280, 283-289, 291,
292, 295, 297, 298, 300, 302-308, 319, 320, 327, 328, 334, 344, 347, 353, 354, 363, 374,
375, 377, 400-403, 417, 428, 433, 436, 446, 447, 454, 480, 491, 492, 497, 507, 510, 515,
528, 537, 539, 543, 561, 562, 564, 565, 573, 579, 581, 585, 588, 590, 591, 595, 598, 608,
609, 611, 615-619, 637-639, 641, 642, 644-646, 651, 652, 654, 657, 658
cases . . . . i-3, 5, 14, 15, 22, 29, 41, 42, 45-47, 55, 62, 89, 94, 114, 124, 126, 128, 129, 151, 153,
160, 171, 179, 180, 183, 188, 215, 224, 230, 272-277, 279, 280, 282, 286, 287, 298, 304-
308, 328, 379, 416, 429, 446, 479, 483, 487, 497, 515, 533, 540, 547, 554, 557, 560, 562,
571-573, 584, 585, 596, 638, 656
CASE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366, 367, 624, 629
CAT_SPEC–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 360, 361, 624, 629
cataphore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 451
Cattell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119, 641
CAU . xvi, 41, 50, 91, 97, 121, 127, 133, 139, 269, 273, 365, 366, 392, 394, 401, 404, 422, 426-
428, 432, 616, 630
CAUSAL . . . xvi, 41-43, 47, 50, 91, 106, 121, 127, 269, 293, 294, 298, 299, 301, 302, 365, 366,
421, 422, 429, 616
CAUSAL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 365, 366
causation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33, 34, 36, 60, 62, 434, 654
causative alternation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328
‚avar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217, 220, 223, 224, 658
CBC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 235, 508, 509, 610
CEC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 447, 448, 451, 575, 610
663
Center Embedding Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 447, 448, 610
chain of binding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469, 538, 550
change–of–position verbs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89, 409, 410
change–of–state verbs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89, 409, 410
characterizer . xv, 167, 170, 174, 175, 177, 186, 206-209, 211, 212, 214-217, 219-221, 224, 225,
228, 231, 235, 277, 285, 288, 292, 293, 307, 324, 359, 441, 443, 451, 479, 482, 484, 491,
497, 533, 534, 547, 555, 556, 558-561, 575, 582, 585, 590, 610
characterizers . . 155, 168, 175, 177, 187, 204, 206, 214, 223, 228, 229, 277, 278, 360, 442, 528,
533, 556, 574, 607
CHARGE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 347
CHAR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359-361, 363, 623, 624
Chomsky . iii, iv, 1, 17, 55, 85, 151, 155, 156, 161, 166, 185, 194, 196, 197, 199, 203, 206, 217,
224, 227, 229, 230, 365, 402, 446, 448, 452, 484, 486, 489, 505, 506, 510, 530, 531, 534,
538, 539, 542, 543, 545-547, 554, 564, 570, 573, 579, 584, 586, 588, 593, 598, 641, 642,
656
Chomsky’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, 199, 365, 505, 538-540, 546, 547, 586, 641, 642
Christian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11, 306, 639, 651
Chung . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642
CIR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 122, 127, 269, 342, 430, 431, 473, 616
CIRCUITOUS–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 421, 623, 630
CIRCUMSTANTIAL . . xvi, 42, 43, 47, 50, 81, 94, 115-118, 121, 127, 269, 297, 315, 320, 329,
330, 411, 420, 431, 473, 477, 616
CLIMB–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416, 418, 419, 623, 624, 626, 627, 630
CNJ 9, 23-25, 27-29, 31, 32, 34, 35, 49-51, 53, 54, 61-64, 85, 91, 109, 268, 280, 319, 329, 330,
338, 347-349, 412, 419, 572, 623, 624
CNS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 43, 50, 617
cognitive grammar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, 1, 3, 393, 396, 398, 649, 650
Colby . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 655, 656
Cole . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642, 645, 655
COM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 106, 127, 269, 360, 374, 616, 625
Combe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639
COMITATIVE . . . . xvi, 14, 25, 47, 50, 53, 54, 81, 127, 267, 269, 287, 288, 296, 300, 305, 307,
308, 360, 616
COMMUNICATION–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 625
COMPARATIVE . . . . xvi, 25, 50, 81, 82, 162, 170-173, 176, 198, 234, 296, 501, 581, 587, 616,
638, 640, 641, 645, 649, 654, 656
complement . . . xv, 6, 13, 16, 30, 34, 49, 53, 84, 86, 87, 101, 105, 125, 158-160, 162, 166, 182,
188, 192, 194, 196-203, 220, 221, 235, 264, 277-280, 282-284, 286, 289, 315, 324, 341,
342, 348, 393, 449, 451, 452, 482, 492, 495, 505, 514, 515, 544, 545, 566, 569, 576, 578,
609, 654
complementizer . . 10, 173, 176, 182, 187, 189, 194-197, 230, 233, 478, 527, 528, 530-533, 535,
537-546, 548, 551-557, 559, 576-578, 580, 583, 585, 588, 611, 613
complementizers xv, 151, 155, 166, 170, 182, 196, 197, 202, 205, 361, 527, 531-533, 535, 537,
540, 553, 556, 585, 610
664
complements . . . i, ii, xv, 1, 6, 11, 30, 48, 53, 55, 84, 86, 101, 126, 128, 156, 158-161, 166, 169,
179, 184, 188, 192, 194, 196, 197, 199-201, 203-205, 208, 211, 217, 220, 227, 264, 273,
274, 278, 279, 281, 283, 285, 286, 288, 289, 324, 339, 341, 361, 394, 399, 404-406, 440,
442, 448, 451, 453, 474, 481, 490, 492, 533, 544, 560, 565, 566, 569, 571, 574, 578, 609,
612, 638
COMPONENTIAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 318, 323, 378, 616
COMPOSITIONAL . . . . xvi, 41, 42, 49, 50, 87, 89, 90, 109, 127, 128, 269, 294, 298, 299, 301,
302, 409, 616, 626
Comrie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175, 342, 642
conjunction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 22, 35, 47, 81, 165, 195, 263, 428
conjunctions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43, 155, 165, 170, 172
CONJUNCTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
CONSECUTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 43, 44, 46, 47, 49-51, 617
CONTINUOUS–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Contraction Block Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 154, 235, 508, 610
control . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 182, 196, 281, 282, 482, 483, 486-488, 536, 642
Cook, V. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 576
Cook, W. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 41
Cookson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304, 649
Coopmans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438, 440, 444, 642
Copestake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 641
correlative link . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376, 377, 410-412
Cottrell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 656
Cowart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542, 642
CP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194, 196, 198-202, 556, 584, 585, 595, 641
CPS . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 41, 50, 87, 109, 111-113, 126, 127, 140, 269, 341, 393, 430, 616, 629
CPT1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 374, 376, 411, 412, 415, 416, 419-421, 623-632, 634, 635
CPT2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
Croft . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 15, 41, 152, 643
Crosby . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304, 643
Cruse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 643
Culicover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, 1, 438, 440, 444, 446-450, 506, 593, 598, 640, 642, 643, 654
Curme . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173, 643
CURVILINEAR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 414, 419, 421, 623, 624, 630, 634
C–command . . . . 156, 158-160, 162, 163, 184, 205, 214, 227-229, 234, 264, 265, 400, 430, 449,
451, 469, 471, 479, 487, 505, 514, 515, 541, 545, 552, 560, 574, 581, 591, 609
Danish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 637
dative i, 1, 3, 6, 7, 9-11, 14, 24, 25, 31, 41, 43-46, 49, 51, 53, 100, 106, 129, 153, 264, 272-277,
279-284, 286, 289, 290, 304, 306, 308, 397, 401, 402, 437, 569, 571, 615, 617, 658
dative alternation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 53, 397, 402, 437, 569, 571
dative of separation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100, 106
de Paiva . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 641
De Villiers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33, 643
DEATH–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97, 107, 121-123, 139, 330, 391, 392, 394, 432, 433, 627
665
declarative . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86, 190, 206, 234, 475-477, 533, 535, 537, 581, 584, 611
declaratives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 530, 531, 533-535, 538, 539, 558
DECLARATIVE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369, 475, 476, 625, 627, 628
Deepadung . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158, 643
DEL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 42, 50, 617
Delbrück . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4, 643
DELIMITIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42, 43, 42, 50, 291, 294, 298, 300, 617
demotion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327-329, 396, 401, 571, 591
Dempster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 643
den Besten . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574, 643
Deny . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9, 99, 103, 403, 408, 530, 643
DESCENT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418, 625
determiner . . 52, 152, 154, 156, 172, 173, 176, 177, 181-183, 186, 189, 191, 192, 194-198, 200,
201, 203, 204, 208, 226, 230, 231, 233, 264, 359, 360, 362, 363, 374, 484, 493, 494, 501,
513, 527-530, 534-536, 538, 539, 541, 542, 545, 547, 549, 552, 580, 588, 612, 613
determiners . . . xv, 52, 151, 154-156, 159, 170, 172, 173, 188, 196-198, 200, 201, 203-205, 208,
360-362, 374, 489, 493, 494, 499, 504, 527, 529, 533, 536, 539, 543, 552, 557, 593, 594,
609, 611
DETPL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359-363, 367, 368, 374, 377, 625, 632
DETSG–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 360, 367, 368, 374, 377, 625, 632
DET–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359-363, 367, 624, 625
DIE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322
DIF . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 42, 50, 617
Dik . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 643, 644
DIM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316, 318, 321
dimensional expression . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316
dimensional expressions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 315, 317
Dinneen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v, 573, 644
direct object . . . ii, 46, 47, 49, 86, 91, 155, 160, 186, 191, 192, 194, 200, 226-228, 233, 273-276,
279, 315, 327, 328, 340-342, 346, 365, 373, 393, 398, 400, 417, 435, 453, 484, 504, 505,
512, 515, 565, 568, 571, 576, 577, 579, 580, 590
direct objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55, 155, 163, 194, 279, 284, 578, 609
direct question . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 556
direct questions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 533, 556, 558
DISJUNCTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
distinct reference condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 235, 514, 610
dominance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187, 469, 608
double possessive . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489-492, 496-499, 502-504, 549
double trigger condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 531, 537, 610
Doubly Filled COMP filter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 531
DOWN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418-420, 625, 633
DP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 198-203, 556, 585, 595
DRC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 235, 514, 610
DRESS–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411, 412, 625
666
DROP–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 324-328, 337, 354, 397, 410, 412, 413, 625
DSJ . . . . 9, 21-24, 27-29, 31, 33-36, 39, 41, 42, 47-51, 54, 61, 82, 85, 87, 91, 97, 101, 104, 105,
109, 112, 121, 127, 130-140, 175, 268, 269, 275-278, 287, 289, 293, 295, 298, 300, 316,
318, 319, 329, 330, 338, 340, 341, 348, 349, 353, 357, 365, 366, 374, 391, 393, 394, 396,
401, 404, 412, 419, 420, 429, 453, 469, 572, 616, 618, 623-626, 629, 630, 633
DTC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 531, 532, 536, 537, 551, 554, 559, 610
Dubinksy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644
Durrell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 52, 573, 644
EBC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 545, 559, 611
ECC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 232, 509, 538, 559, 579, 582, 583, 585, 588, 611
ECH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 346, 347, 399, 407, 572
ECP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
EFC . . xvi, 41, 50, 57, 59, 87, 90-95, 102-104, 109, 110, 112, 113, 121, 123-127, 130-140, 263,
266, 268, 269, 273, 322-328, 337, 339-358, 363, 374, 392-395, 397, 399-401, 404, 407,
408, 413, 416, 421, 422, 426-434, 437, 453, 473-477, 485-488, 571, 617, 623-627
EFC–1 . . . . . . . . 373, 376, 411-413, 415, 416, 419-421, 428, 623, 625, 626, 629, 630, 632, 634
EFFECTIVE . . . xvi, 41, 46, 47, 50, 51, 54, 87, 90, 121, 127, 263, 269, 293, 295, 298-301, 315,
320, 323, 325, 326, 328, 339, 397, 404, 428, 429, 475, 476, 547, 617
EFFERENTIAL . . . xvi, 42, 47, 48, 50, 54, 87, 91, 127, 267, 269, 294, 298, 299, 301, 328, 406,
476, 571, 617
EFR . xvi, 42, 50, 87, 93-96, 98, 99, 101, 104, 106, 110, 113, 123, 124, 127, 134-140, 266, 269,
273, 327, 329, 341, 342, 356-358, 374, 392-394, 399, 406-409, 429, 430, 453, 485, 486,
488, 572, 573, 617, 623
EFR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373, 374, 626, 627, 632
ELA . . . xvi, 87, 90-92, 96, 99, 101, 104, 106, 109, 110, 124, 125, 130-133, 323, 324, 327, 337-
340, 345, 347-355, 357, 392, 394, 397, 404, 405, 453, 473, 572, 573, 617, 630
ELATIVE . . . . xvi, 25, 28, 32, 34, 35, 42, 45, 46, 54, 55, 86, 87, 90-92, 109, 295, 298-300, 320,
323, 325, 339, 397, 405, 438, 571, 617
Eliot . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8, 25, 26, 42, 44, 644
Emonds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 220, 530, 644
empty categories . . . iii-v, 189, 198, 230, 232, 380, 448, 449, 452, 483, 509, 538, 544, 579, 587,
591, 608, 611
empty category . iii, iv, xv, 154, 198, 214, 230-232, 234, 235, 448, 481, 483, 507-509, 513, 538,
541, 542, 550, 579-581, 588, 591, 610, 611, 647
empty category condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 231, 232, 538, 579, 611
ENC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 189, 232, 262, 537, 559, 612
English auxiliary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175, 206, 210, 213, 223-226
English noun phrase constraint . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 551
ENH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 180, 194, 208, 360, 553, 588, 625
ENROLL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 351
ENTER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 349, 350, 352
ENTITY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 377, 627
Entwistle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306, 644
Epstein . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452, 579, 588, 637, 644, 646, 653
667
Estonian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 6, 25, 32, 42, 129, 652
ETA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438-444, 450, 451, 542
EVH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 194, 206, 451, 454, 553, 556
EXIT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 350, 355
EXP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 41, 50, 124, 125, 273, 342, 401, 404, 417, 422, 426-428, 618, 623
EXPEDIENTIAL . . xvi, 41, 46, 47, 50, 51, 91, 125, 293, 294, 298-301, 417, 420-422, 429, 433,
618
experiencer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 1, 6, 9-11, 14-16, 35, 40, 41, 43, 51, 54, 263, 306
EXT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23, 27, 50, 288, 319
extended neighborhood . . . . xv, 231, 232, 235, 262, 536-538, 551, 555-557, 559, 582, 584, 585,
610, 612
Extended neighborhood condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 232, 262, 612
EXTENSIONAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47, 115
EXTERIOR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
EXTRACT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355
EYE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364, 365, 415, 626
Fahlman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 644
Farmer, A. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565
FEATHER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 378, 624, 626
feature cluster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25, 28, 33, 39, 49, 61, 62, 86, 167, 297, 321, 346, 399
feature clusters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33, 61, 97, 122, 278, 348
feature constellation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22, 32, 338
feature constellations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40, 184
Fellbaum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57, 88, 318, 322, 363, 377, 411, 651
FEMALE_HUMAN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376, 626, 634
FEMALE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376, 626
FERRY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125, 433
Fillmore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 5, 15, 36, 38, 41, 85, 91, 267, 354, 400, 402, 403, 428, 644, 645
Fillmore’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 6, 15, 16, 400
filter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 531, 534, 546, 571, 651
filters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 642
Findler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 645, 647
Finegan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 645
finite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169, 170, 224, 265, 434, 469, 475, 477, 479, 482, 483, 546
FINITE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 370, 626
Finnish . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 1, 5, 6, 8, 25, 26, 29, 32, 41, 42, 44, 45, 53, 63, 129, 160, 307, 644, 652
FIN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 378, 626
FIRST ORDER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 321, 428
Fischer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554, 645
FISH–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 59, 322, 378, 626
Fleischman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153, 641
Fletcher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638, 645
FLY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56-59, 363, 378, 623, 624, 626, 629, 634
Fodor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17, 645, 648
668
Foley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100, 645
FORCE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428, 626
FORM–1 . . 88-96, 99, 107, 109-113, 123-125, 127, 128, 130-135, 137, 140, 266, 327, 337-340,
345, 347-356, 392, 399, 404, 408-410, 429, 430, 433, 473, 474, 485, 626
FORM–2 . . . . . . . . . . . 88-90, 94-96, 99, 107, 127, 128, 327, 409, 410, 429-431, 433, 485, 626
Foss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 647
Frawley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 645
Freeze, R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
French . . 31, 38, 94, 109, 112, 119, 120, 136, 158, 160, 161, 205, 227-229, 346, 431, 500, 574,
591, 644, 649, 653
Friedin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 645
FROM–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 337, 339, 365, 366, 397, 405, 406, 624, 626
FST . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27, 50, 56, 62, 319, 321, 341, 374, 393, 412, 429, 623, 625, 626
functional grammar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 639, 643, 644
garden path . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 534, 535, 554
Garman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638, 645
Gazdar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 194, 639, 645
GENDER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 153, 155, 166, 200, 201, 417, 515, 562, 595, 619, 649
GENDER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366, 367, 626, 629
genitive . . . . i, 1, 4, 5, 14, 25, 39, 43, 129, 201, 264, 272, 273, 279, 304-308, 316, 490-492, 495,
573, 615
genitive of quality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490-492, 495
genitives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492, 499
German . . . 2, 24, 25, 31, 32, 40, 52, 100, 119, 120, 173, 183, 200, 275, 402, 573-575, 578, 579,
638, 643, 644, 646, 649, 656, 657
Germanic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308, 646, 649
gerund . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30, 153, 155, 169, 175
gerundial nominal . . . . . . . . . . . 155, 170, 175, 177, 178, 277, 371, 471, 474, 501, 502, 504, 505
gerundial nominal classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
gerunds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii, 101, 102, 153, 155, 169, 170, 175, 211, 469, 470, 479, 489
GF . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 394, 397, 399, 453
Gildersleeve . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4, 273, 280, 287, 294, 296, 297, 303, 487, 645
Giorgi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 645
GIVE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 356
Givón . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 152, 327, 645
Glare . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281, 293, 330, 645
Gleitman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 646
GOAL i, ii, 1, 2, 6, 9-13, 15, 16, 20, 21, 24, 25, 31, 35, 38-40, 43, 46-49, 51, 52, 54, 59, 61, 85-
97, 99, 100, 105, 106, 109, 111, 112, 124-139, 189, 190, 267, 271, 274, 275, 283, 289, 299,
317, 324-326, 328-330, 338-340, 343-345, 347, 348, 352, 355, 357, 358, 391, 394, 396,
398, 404-406, 408, 422, 437, 453, 476, 477, 485, 512, 513, 547, 548, 571, 607
GOAL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 626
Gonda . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 646
Goodwin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304, 646
669
Gothic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308
GO–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 353
GPSG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 161, 184, 194
Graf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 646
grammatical function . 86, 122, 235, 266, 315, 324-326, 343, 380, 394, 397, 400, 453, 514, 609,
610, 638
grammatical functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, xv, 179, 263, 326, 327, 435, 436, 453, 483, 658
Graziano . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158, 646
GREED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
Greek . . . i, 1, 4, 5, 11, 14, 15, 22, 43, 46, 104, 129, 173, 207, 230, 304-306, 308, 316, 326, 433,
487, 500, 641, 643, 646, 649, 650, 656
Greenbaum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 653
Greenberg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160, 161, 198, 646, 657
Greenough . . . . . . . . . 4, 42-44, 153, 183, 273, 274, 280, 287, 293, 295-298, 303, 562, 564, 637
Grimshaw . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120, 269, 327, 434, 532, 640, 646
Grout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 506, 646
Gruber . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 5, 12, 85, 91, 280, 646
Gruber’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85, 124
GUF . . 393, 394, 396, 399-401, 411, 413, 417, 429, 433, 436, 453, 454, 474, 476, 511, 571, 572
Haider . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24, 574, 646
Hakes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 646, 647
Hale . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51, 52, 327, 647
Hale and Keyser . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51, 52, 327
Halford . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 647
Halle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17, 55, 640, 642, 643, 647
HAMMER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
Harms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638, 644
Harnish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 486, 638
Harris . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591, 647
Hawkins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 160, 161, 647
heaviness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 539, 611
Hebrew . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 202, 565-568, 579
Hendrix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 647
Herriman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 657
Herskovitz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 19, 647
Hess . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 647
Hildebrandt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202, 641
Hills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 647
HILL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418, 626
Hinchliffe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 647
Hindi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 5-7, 129, 160, 651
Hió . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639, 647
Hoekstra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 647
Holmes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 637, 647
670
Hornstein . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199, 206, 644, 646, 647, 650
Hovav . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 417, 434, 650
Hudson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154, 647
HUMAN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 376, 428, 626, 627, 630, 634
HUSBAND–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 627, 634
idiom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 351, 566, 571, 572
idioms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333, 509, 566-572
ILL . . xvi, 50, 87, 90-92, 96, 99-103, 106, 108-111, 124, 125, 130-133, 302, 324, 327, 337-342,
345, 347-355, 357, 392, 394, 397, 404, 405, 453, 473, 474, 572, 573, 592, 618
ILLATIVE . xvi, 25, 26, 28, 31, 32, 34, 35, 44-46, 54, 55, 63, 86, 87, 90-92, 101, 108, 280, 307,
320, 324, 325, 339, 347, 397, 405, 438, 571, 618
ILLOCUTION–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 623, 627, 630
immediate dominance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 608
immediate neighborhood . . . . . . 231, 234, 262, 536, 537, 555, 556, 575, 578, 581, 584, 585, 610
imperative . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117, 153, 154, 177, 207, 233, 370, 371, 475-477, 479, 482, 533, 580
imperatives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 479, 481
IMPERATIVE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369, 475, 476, 627, 628
inalienable possession . . . 37, 40, 41, 43, 49, 89, 92, 94, 107, 109, 111, 112, 121, 127, 128, 306,
341, 357, 358, 378, 393, 411
incorporation . ii, 12, 114, 123, 124, 280, 329, 330, 344, 346-349, 351, 354, 415, 417, 418, 421,
454, 638
indirect command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485, 486, 488
indirect commands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 477, 486
indirect object . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, xv, 46, 47, 49, 52, 315, 328, 341, 393, 453, 569, 589
indirect objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 301, 565
indirect pledge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 487, 488
indirect pledges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 487
indirect question . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486, 488
indirect questions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 486, 487, 527, 532, 546, 558, 559, 583
indirect statement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485, 486, 488, 583
indirect statements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii, 475, 477, 487, 532, 546, 583
indirect wish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486, 488
indirect wishes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Indonesian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161, 400, 656
Indo–European . . . i, 1, 3, 5, 6, 10, 14, 29, 43, 42, 44, 46, 49, 129, 274, 278, 283, 286, 287, 289,
295, 297, 298, 302-308, 486, 638, 649
inessive . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25, 307
INF2–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476, 477, 627
INFERIOR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 419, 625
infinitive . . . 30, 153, 154, 163, 177, 210, 224, 370, 371, 434, 452, 474, 478, 479, 483, 485, 487,
507-510, 513, 532, 574, 577
infinitive classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
infinitives . . . iii, 101, 102, 151-153, 170, 175, 200, 210-212, 214, 222, 380, 430, 452, 469-471,
479, 483, 485, 487, 509, 513, 574, 578
671
INGEST–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 627
inheritance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362, 363, 641
INJECT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 340
Innuit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 638
INS . . xvi, 33, 50, 94, 122, 124, 127, 137-139, 269, 291, 328, 342, 356, 392, 406, 417, 422, 426,
428-430, 433, 618, 626, 629, 630, 634
INSERT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337, 339, 350, 473
instrumental . . xvi, 14, 15, 42, 43, 50, 53, 54, 58, 81, 91, 115-118, 121, 127, 153, 264, 267, 269,
287, 288, 291-293, 297-308, 328-330, 400, 406, 414, 417, 422, 423, 425, 426, 429, 615,
618, 652
INS–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 627, 630
INTERIOR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 61, 62
interrogative . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 475-477, 533, 535, 537, 538, 554, 558
interrogatives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 530, 531, 533-535, 539, 540
INTERROGATIVE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369, 475, 476, 627, 628
INTO–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122, 124, 325, 337, 339, 397, 405, 454
IN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 337, 339, 397, 405
Italian . . . . i, 2, 6, 7, 29, 40, 50, 112, 119, 120, 129, 156, 158, 160, 161, 190, 198, 227-229, 269,
416, 483, 565-568, 579, 589, 646
Jackendoff . 3, 31, 59-61, 101, 105, 116, 151, 155, 156, 165, 166, 194, 196, 212, 220, 327, 341,
400, 489, 494, 495, 505, 548, 647, 648, 650
Jackendoff’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31, 60-62, 183
Jacobs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 641, 644, 648
Jaeggli . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230, 510, 579, 648
JAGGED–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 627
Jakobovits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644, 649, 656
Japanese . . . . i, 1, 2, 5, 6, 8, 31-33, 39, 41, 42, 44-46, 51, 62, 120, 128, 129, 159, 197, 291, 292,
300-302, 491, 533, 556, 564, 565, 567, 579, 637, 644, 649, 651, 652, 657, 658
Jarvella . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 648
Jenkins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Jensen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Jespersen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Johnson and Lappin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 586
Johnson, D. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Johnson, N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 648
Johnson–Laird . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 17, 19, 21, 31, 55, 651
Jorgensen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Kanerva . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106, 327, 641
Katz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17, 645, 648
Kayne . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 593, 648
Kerstens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 202, 649
Keyser . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51, 52, 327, 429, 436, 647, 649
King and Cookson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304
King, G. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
672
King, J. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 649
Kiparsky . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283, 554, 574, 649
Kittay . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 648, 650
Klein . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639, 645
KNOWLEDGE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94, 95, 114, 136, 330
Koopman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 649
Kroch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574, 578, 649
Kühner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183, 649
Kuno . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 564, 649
Kurylowicz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 276, 306, 649
LADDER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418, 627
Laffal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 649
Lakoff . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28, 62, 63, 84, 331, 485, 571, 649
Lakoff and Johnson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
Lang . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158, 649
Langacker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 182, 393, 398, 649, 650
Langendoen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 637, 645
Langtech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 56, 88, 187, 325, 358, 359, 590, 639
language acquisition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33, 586, 596, 638, 640, 645, 646, 656
Lappin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 586, 648
Larson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105, 400, 650
Lasnik . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 169, 206, 400, 531, 534, 539, 542, 543, 545, 546, 554, 638, 642, 650
Latin . . . i, 6, 14, 33, 39, 40, 42, 44-46, 49, 99, 100, 106, 112, 129, 151, 152, 155, 166, 173, 183,
197, 230, 265, 272-277, 279-284, 286-289, 291-293, 295, 297, 298, 302-304, 306, 321,
375, 402, 454, 487, 500, 533, 556, 560-565, 567, 574, 579, 637-639, 641, 645, 647, 649,
651, 653, 658
Latin case system . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272, 280
LAY_EGGS–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56, 57, 363, 624
Leech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 650, 653
Lehmann . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 650
Lehrer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 648, 650
Lenneberg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 597, 650
LEV_SPEC–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 360, 361, 374, 627, 629, 632
Levin . . iii, 1-3, 36, 52-54, 91, 105, 126, 325, 328, 342, 354, 373, 379, 380, 394, 402, 403, 409,
410, 413-415, 417, 421, 422, 424, 425, 429, 431-434, 437, 438, 441, 442, 452, 475, 477,
486, 650, 651
Levin’s . . . . . . . . . iii, 323, 328, 373, 403, 409-411, 413, 415, 416, 418, 420, 425, 429, 432, 450
Lewis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 5, 9, 44, 303, 650
lexical entries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 315, 323, 337, 359, 399, 407, 429
lexical entry . . . . . . . . . . . . 174, 184, 186, 315, 323, 324, 340, 358, 436, 451, 473, 485, 587, 608
lexical item . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30, 123, 168, 178, 187, 230, 288, 454, 538, 550, 585, 609
lexical items . i-iii, 1, 123, 128, 151, 152, 171, 178, 179, 187, 190, 192, 195, 208, 225, 226, 337,
365, 378, 506, 507, 571, 579, 590, 591, 593, 611
lexical redundancies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337, 401
673
lexical redundancy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94, 268, 272, 474
lexical–functional grammar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, 1
Li . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579, 650
light verb . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119, 120, 122
Lightfoot . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153, 206, 554, 650
linked chain . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 538, 550, 609
LIVING_THING–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 377, 623, 627
LOC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 12, 87, 109, 111, 618
locative . . . . xvi, 2, 9-11, 14, 15, 25, 28, 31-36, 43, 46, 51, 63, 87, 179, 180, 264, 272, 274-277,
284, 287, 298, 300, 305-308, 318, 334, 410, 416, 420, 437, 438, 615, 618, 641, 642
locative ablative . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 287
locative inversion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 437, 438, 641, 642
locative preposition drop alternation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 410, 416, 420
LOCOMOTE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 59, 322, 378, 623, 626, 627, 630
Lodge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4, 273, 280, 287, 294, 296, 297, 303, 487, 645
Longobardi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 645
Lundskær–Nielsen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637
LUNGE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Lyons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 359, 362, 363, 650
L–command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218, 515, 541, 609
MA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, xv, 1, 234, 235, 506-511, 513, 567, 569, 570, 573, 578, 579, 582-588
Macfarland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v, 394, 651
Machtelt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639
Madvig . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280, 651
main verb . . 86, 122, 180, 191, 192, 206, 211, 214, 216-221, 223, 224, 226, 229, 234, 544, 577,
581, 584, 585, 588, 590, 611
Maling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 543, 651
Mandler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 651
Mann . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100, 653, 657
manner adverb . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81, 172, 174, 176, 179, 192, 212, 227, 431, 448
manner adverbs . . . . . . xv, 115, 151, 164, 170, 173, 174, 179, 212, 215, 225-228, 448, 454, 609
Manzini . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542, 651
Marantz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 156, 651
Martin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 640, 643, 644, 648, 650, 651
May, R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362, 528
McCarthy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 651
McCawley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184, 651
McGregor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 651
MDE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156, 167, 177, 207, 217, 222, 265, 375, 445, 450, 451, 489, 539, 561, 588
Melton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648, 651
merge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii, iv, 14, 172, 179, 187-190, 208, 297, 306, 362, 476, 506, 590
merge routines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187, 189, 208, 362, 476
merging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 188, 189, 195, 306, 362, 375, 451, 579, 590, 591
Mervis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 651, 654
674
Mester . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120, 646
metaphor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36, 84, 118, 338
metaphors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17, 35, 40, 84, 284, 469, 649
middle alternation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328, 429-431, 433
Miller . . . . . . 3, 17, 19, 21, 31, 55, 57, 88, 185, 318, 322, 363, 377, 411, 547, 596, 640, 647, 651
Milsark . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438, 652
Minsky . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 652, 653
MISSILE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428, 626, 628
Mitchell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308, 639, 652
Miyagawa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120, 565, 652
MOD . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 52, 86, 87, 105, 125, 234, 328, 329, 393, 429, 433, 551, 581, 584, 611
modal . . . . 153, 167, 172, 173, 176, 177, 207, 209, 210, 215-222, 224, 226, 371, 372, 497, 574,
575, 632
modals . . . . . . . . . xv, 151, 167, 170, 172, 194, 201, 208, 211, 217, 219, 222, 370, 371, 439, 533
MODE . 153-156, 167, 175, 177, 186, 206-212, 214-217, 219-221, 223-225, 229, 231, 235, 282,
441, 479, 482, 484, 489, 497, 529, 530, 533, 535, 536, 547, 555-561, 574, 575, 582, 585,
612, 620
MODE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368, 369, 628, 633
modifier . 47, 87, 91, 105, 116, 121, 124, 125, 156, 158-160, 162, 165, 166, 188, 192, 193, 197,
227, 228, 264, 268, 341, 421, 426, 430, 431, 433, 449, 483, 484, 490, 513, 588, 593, 594
modifiers . xv, 47, 86, 115-117, 155, 156, 158-161, 165, 166, 168-171, 173, 179, 184, 188, 192,
197, 204, 205, 216, 227, 263, 315, 361, 393, 406, 420, 433, 451, 454, 479, 501, 502, 560,
574, 593, 594, 609
Montague . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 332, 638
Morison . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306
morphosyntactic feature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 152, 170, 184, 208, 231, 360, 585, 617-621
movement . iii-v, xv, 1, 2, 5, 16, 17, 20-24, 28, 29, 31, 36, 49, 55, 61, 84, 97, 111, 184, 201-203,
206, 217, 220, 224-226, 228-232, 234, 235, 265, 323, 325, 328-330, 338, 346, 353, 355,
401-404, 418, 433, 434, 436, 442, 443, 452, 473, 480, 506, 509-511, 547, 555, 556, 562,
564, 565, 567, 573, 575, 578, 579, 582-588, 590, 591, 593, 598, 619, 642, 650, 653, 658
movement approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, xv, 506, 556, 573, 579, 584, 586, 590, 598
Napoli . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400, 652
NAUSEA–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
negation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33, 34, 39, 653, 657
neighborhood . . . xv, 231, 232, 234, 235, 262, 268, 420, 484, 513, 516, 517, 536-538, 542, 551,
555-557, 559, 575, 578, 581, 582, 584, 585, 609, 610, 612
neighborhoods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585
Nemoto . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565, 652
Newari . . . . i, 9, 11, 32, 33, 40-42, 46, 51, 62, 128, 152, 158, 159, 291, 292, 298-300, 302, 331,
648, 657
Newmeyer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 365, 652
Newson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 576, 642
Nilsen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 423, 652
Nishigauchi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 528, 652
675
NMA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, xv, 506, 507, 509-511, 513, 568, 579, 584-587
NML . 154, 155, 173, 176, 177, 208, 209, 231, 264, 353, 360, 366, 412, 484, 533, 536, 623, 625,
629
NML_FEAT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366, 629
nominal . . . 152, 155, 168-170, 175, 177-179, 182, 186, 197, 203, 277, 278, 308, 366, 371, 379,
418, 471, 474, 501, 502, 504, 505, 595, 607
nominals . . . 101, 152, 155, 169, 170, 177, 203, 268, 470, 471, 489, 492, 494, 501-505, 594, 655
nominative . 1, 25, 86, 151, 153, 166, 200, 230, 231, 263-266, 272-276, 281, 286, 291, 305, 308,
341, 375, 393, 443, 451, 483, 507, 542, 561, 565, 573, 575, 590, 591, 615, 618
nominatives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163, 284, 442, 443, 451, 483, 609
NONASSOCIATIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 87, 118, 405, 572, 619
NONATTRIBUTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 87, 118, 619
NONCIRCUMSTANTIAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 118, 619
NONCOMITATIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 25, 50, 619
NONCOMPARATIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 170-173, 176, 619
nonconfigurational languages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 560
nonfinite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111, 169, 170, 175, 477
NONFINITE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 370, 629
NONINSTRUMENTAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 50, 118, 619
nonmovement approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 571, 573, 579, 584, 586, 595, 598
nonpositional xvi, 2, 3, 5, 6, 13, 14, 19, 21, 26, 35, 36, 39-41, 45, 46, 48-50, 84, 85, 90-94, 101,
105, 107, 110, 113, 126-129, 134, 198, 266, 293, 301, 302, 305, 318, 329-331, 335, 354,
391, 392, 400, 437, 438, 444, 469
nonpositional thematic relations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35, 40, 48, 50, 128, 331
NONPOSSESSOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 39, 49, 50, 87, 97
nonstative reduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28, 49, 98, 107, 109, 121
non–movement approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, xv, 506
noun . . ii, iii, xv, 1, 15, 25, 52, 53, 56, 88, 106, 111, 116, 152, 154-156, 158-162, 165, 166, 169,
171-178, 180-183, 185, 186, 188-204, 206, 208, 209, 214, 225, 226, 231, 263-266, 292,
307, 324, 326, 338, 346, 351, 352, 360, 361, 364, 373-376, 379, 394, 398, 401, 407, 415,
417, 418, 420, 428, 438, 443, 453, 454, 469, 473, 478-484, 489-493, 495-499, 501, 502,
513, 514, 527-529, 532, 534, 536, 538, 541, 542, 547, 549, 551-553, 557, 568, 572, 590,
593-595, 597, 610, 613, 630, 634, 637, 643, 645, 654
Noun Phrase Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 169, 180, 182, 199, 418, 479, 491, 527, 542, 613
noun specifier condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529
NOUNPL–1 . . . . . . . . 359, 360, 362, 364, 367, 368, 373, 374, 376, 377, 625, 629, 631, 632, 635
nouns . xv, 30, 56, 62, 101, 107, 151-155, 158, 165, 169, 171-173, 180, 183, 184, 187, 188, 193,
194, 196-201, 203, 204, 208, 210, 211, 214, 277, 281, 282, 305, 331, 342, 346, 360, 362,
374-376, 379, 399, 415, 427, 439, 469, 470, 478, 479, 493, 494, 498, 499, 533-535, 550,
552, 594, 597, 607
NOUNSG–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 360, 362, 364, 367, 368, 373, 374, 376, 377, 625, 629, 631, 634
NOUN–1 . . . . . . 359-362, 364, 367, 373, 374, 376, 377, 415, 419, 420, 623-625, 629-631, 634
NPC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 169, 180, 183, 188, 199, 418, 479, 491, 493, 551, 613
NSC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529, 530
676
NUM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 174, 177, 204, 207, 208, 265, 367, 375, 496, 561, 625, 629
NUMBER . . . 1, 15, 36, 41, 51, 52, 54, 62, 88, 91, 107, 108, 113, 119, 126, 151-155, 163, 166,
168, 171, 172, 174, 178, 180-186, 188, 193-197, 201, 202, 206-208, 211, 216, 220, 224,
225, 229, 265, 274, 293, 305, 320, 325, 327, 330, 332, 348, 360, 362, 376-378, 396, 398,
403, 410, 412, 417, 427, 438, 479, 480, 493-496, 498-500, 509, 515, 535, 537, 562, 574,
575, 588, 595, 597, 598, 607, 611, 612, 619, 649, 651, 654
NUMBER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366, 629, 633
numeral . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160, 161, 176, 184, 204
numerals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106, 179, 496, 499
OAC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 186, 209, 210, 479, 498, 499, 530, 611, 612
OAR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416-418, 420, 629, 630
OBJECTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 18, 85, 194, 398, 400, 403, 642
obligatoriness code . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326, 397, 410, 412, 454
OC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397-399, 408
OFF_OF–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 397
Oinas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25, 42, 652
Olli . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 8, 25, 26, 42, 53, 652
Olson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204, 652
One Affix Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 186, 412, 498, 611
ONTO–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 397
ON–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 397
ORG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 42, 50, 86, 87, 101, 103, 109, 110, 140, 341, 393, 619
ORIGINITIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 42, 87, 109
Osborne . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Osumi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 55, 652
Otones . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 655
OUT_OF–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 337, 339, 397, 405
Page, T. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 563, 652
PAGE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
Palmer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153, 401, 591, 652
Pani . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 651
Panini . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 658
PAPER–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 627, 629
parser . . iii, v, 56, 88, 155, 171, 179, 187-190, 192, 208, 265, 266, 323, 325, 326, 350, 358-363,
380, 451, 475, 495, 579, 587, 590, 606
parsing . . . . . . . . . iii, 155, 171, 180, 187-189, 195, 358, 359, 495, 533, 542, 544, 545, 547, 639
parsing constraint . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
Partee . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 657
participle . 153, 155, 169, 170, 175, 177, 178, 210, 213, 214, 216, 217, 224, 226, 277, 370, 371,
401, 443, 470, 471, 474, 504, 574, 590, 591, 634
participle classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
participles . . . . iii, 52, 102, 153, 158, 169, 170, 175, 210-214, 216, 217, 222, 230, 324, 430, 442,
448, 469-471, 479, 503, 510, 574, 579
passive . 29, 91, 153-155, 169, 170, 174, 175, 177, 178, 196, 210, 214, 223, 224, 226, 230, 268,
677
273, 277, 280, 286, 298, 301, 324, 326, 339, 341, 342, 349, 353, 371, 372, 394, 401, 402,
404, 421, 424-426, 428, 431, 433, 434, 443, 471, 506-508, 510, 515, 545, 569, 579, 590,
591, 612, 648, 655, 656
passives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213, 269, 286, 301, 342, 347, 401, 423, 436, 452, 507-509, 514, 515
Payne . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211, 653
PCOMP . . . . xv, 86-88, 92, 95, 105, 112, 125, 126, 190, 231, 234, 279, 286, 315, 324-329, 337,
338, 340-345, 351-358, 365, 373, 391, 393-404, 408, 409, 411, 413, 416, 417, 429, 431,
433, 436, 453, 485-488, 511, 512, 516, 551, 571, 572, 581, 584, 591, 611
PENGUIN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363, 629
Perez . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158, 649
perfective . 153, 154, 174, 175, 177, 178, 208, 210, 214, 216-220, 223, 224, 226, 372, 440, 504,
574, 575
Perlmutter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 653
PERSON–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366-368, 629, 633
Pesetsky . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434, 653
phonologically null determiner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154, 360
PHRASE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 360, 629
PIA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438-441, 443-445, 450, 451
Pinker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 403, 427, 435, 477, 650, 651, 653
Pinkster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279, 283, 653
PL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207, 307, 358, 397, 398
POCKET–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124, 454
POISON–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124, 139
Pollock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206, 223, 224, 227, 229, 653
Poole . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573, 653
POS 49, 98-103, 109-111, 113, 114, 156, 201, 204, 489, 490, 495-500, 503-505, 527, 529, 533,
535, 539, 541, 542, 547, 592, 611
positional . xvi, 2, 3, 5, 11, 13, 14, 17-22, 25, 27, 31, 33-36, 39-41, 45-48, 62, 84, 85, 88, 90-93,
95, 101, 107, 109, 126-130, 198, 266, 274, 278, 295, 302, 305, 307, 317, 321, 330, 332,
334-338, 346, 352, 353, 355, 391, 392, 404, 416, 425, 438, 469, 475, 607, 615-618
positional thematic relation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 615-618
positional thematic relations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17, 27
possessive . 14, 36, 37, 98, 107, 153, 156, 159, 160, 192, 201, 206, 231, 264, 300, 305, 306, 318,
415, 417, 484, 489-492, 496-499, 502-505, 536, 549, 609, 615, 616, 618, 619
possessives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 156, 159, 160, 198, 497-499, 502, 557, 593, 594
POSSESSOR . . xvi, 39, 40, 49, 50, 56, 57, 87, 97, 121, 156, 201, 204, 298, 317, 322, 412, 497-
499, 504, 539, 616, 618, 619
Postal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198, 269, 653
POSTERIOR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
posthead . . 158, 162, 165, 169, 170, 173, 179, 180, 182, 184, 188, 198, 277, 292, 341, 342, 366,
373, 375, 441-443, 446, 451, 471, 490-492, 497-499, 504, 534, 541-543, 551, 560, 562,
574, 576-578, 592, 595, 613
postposition . . . . i, 1, 2, 6-9, 11, 14, 31, 33, 39, 41, 42, 44, 45, 54, 126-129, 159, 292, 300, 301,
307, 320, 491, 565
678
postpositions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 3, 5, 41, 47, 62, 126, 128, 129, 267, 292, 300, 302
Pratt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 657
precedence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187, 400, 430, 469, 608, 652
predicate . . . . . ii, iii, xv, 16, 30, 31, 33, 34, 41, 43, 44, 47, 49, 81, 85, 86, 88, 91, 93, 95-97, 100,
105, 115, 116, 121, 124, 126, 127, 163, 164, 166, 226, 235, 275, 283, 284, 315, 317, 323,
326, 327, 340, 341, 346, 349, 353, 357, 363, 393, 394, 396-398, 402, 403, 405, 408, 413,
416, 422, 430, 431, 433, 436, 437, 442, 443, 446, 448, 451, 453, 454, 471, 482, 483, 507,
511, 514, 542, 609, 610, 615-620
prehead . . . . 52, 156, 158, 165, 167, 169, 170, 173, 179, 183, 184, 186, 188-190, 209, 217, 220,
264, 277, 292, 361, 373, 375, 441, 446, 451, 452, 471, 484, 489, 497-499, 504, 533, 542,
543, 549, 555, 560, 562, 576, 578, 590, 595, 610
preposition . i, 1, 2, 6-11, 13, 14, 26, 29, 30, 34, 35, 39, 45, 46, 49, 52-54, 62, 63, 82, 91, 96, 99,
106, 124, 125, 127-129, 172, 173, 176, 182, 192, 194, 195, 198-200, 265-271, 275-277,
280, 284, 286-289, 292, 293, 298, 307, 320, 325, 326, 329, 334, 339, 340, 342, 344-347,
354, 366, 397, 399-401, 404-406, 410, 416, 417, 420-422, 429, 437, 438, 474, 478, 479,
483, 490-492, 551, 562, 563, 568, 571, 587, 613
preposition list . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 326, 397
prepositions . . i, xv, 1-3, 5, 6, 10, 11, 16, 24, 25, 30-32, 35, 40-42, 44-48, 51-54, 62, 81, 84-86,
95, 96, 102, 105-107, 111, 124, 126-129, 155, 170, 172, 182, 183, 194, 198-200, 202, 266-
268, 270-272, 275-281, 283-287, 289, 292, 293, 295, 298, 306, 308, 324-326, 334-337,
339, 346, 347, 365, 399, 405, 419, 426, 428, 454, 478, 479, 532, 553, 568, 647, 650, 654,
657, 658
Pressley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 643
PREY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421, 629
PRH . . . . . . 173, 176, 180, 182, 187, 190, 194, 195, 206, 208, 360, 361, 451, 553, 556, 588, 625
primary complement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 86, 105, 279, 315, 324, 341, 515
Prince, E. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Prinzhorn . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 646
Procter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88, 653
progressive . 28, 117, 154, 158, 169, 174, 175, 177, 178, 210, 213, 214, 223, 224, 226, 269, 277,
372, 439, 470
promotion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 317, 327-329, 355, 356, 395-397, 401, 408, 569, 571, 591
pronoun . . 172, 173, 176, 177, 182, 191, 192, 194, 195, 198, 200, 201, 228, 235, 346, 353, 479,
502, 514-517, 548-553, 595
pronouns . . . xv, 152, 154, 155, 166, 171, 172, 198, 200, 201, 229, 232, 266, 380, 439, 499, 515-
517, 533, 538, 548, 550, 552, 553, 595, 653, 654
PROPEL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345
PROWL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421, 629, 630
PROXIMAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27, 40, 50, 62, 63, 280, 321, 428
PRX . . . . . . . . . . . . 51, 57, 112, 293, 317-319, 321, 341, 347, 365, 366, 393, 412, 429, 624, 625
PSH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 183, 454
Psotka . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 657
PST . . . . . 17, 18, 20, 26-29, 32, 34-36, 40, 43, 44, 46-49, 54, 57, 59, 62-64, 91, 96, 99, 130-133,
156, 163, 164, 167, 171, 189, 191, 206, 207, 212, 217, 231, 264, 267, 275-277, 280, 295,
679
300, 316-318, 321, 330, 338, 346-348, 352, 355, 356, 394, 395, 397, 400, 420, 421, 425,
430, 437, 442, 445, 447, 449, 450, 472, 483, 484, 515, 529, 542, 592, 595, 623, 625, 629,
630, 633
PST_PCOMP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 352, 355, 356, 394, 395, 397
PST0 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
PST1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
PST2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
PST3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
PST4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
PTA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438-445, 450, 451
Pullum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639, 645
PUR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 44, 50, 127, 269, 273, 620, 625
PURPOSIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 44-47, 49-53, 127, 163, 267-269, 420, 508, 509, 620
quantification . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171, 609, 652
quantifier . . 152, 156, 171-173, 195, 202, 204, 212, 216, 221, 490, 493, 494, 497, 517, 527-530,
535, 541, 549, 612
quantifiers . . xv, 3, 84, 85, 126, 170-172, 179, 180, 194, 198, 212, 215, 218, 225-229, 232, 489,
493, 494, 503, 515, 517, 527-529, 533, 538, 543, 548, 550, 552, 557, 558, 593-595
Quillian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 653
Quirk, R. . . 116, 154, 164, 167, 171, 172, 223, 283, 394, 438, 475, 486, 487, 508, 529, 532, 558,
653
Radford . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 201-203, 436, 584, 654
Radke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 647
Randall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430, 595, 641
READ–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411, 629
REASON–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 627
RECIPIENT . . i-iii, xvi, 1, 6, 9-11, 13, 14, 38, 39, 51, 53, 91, 129, 263, 306, 327, 338, 365, 411,
430, 431, 453, 485
reciprocal transfer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38, 42, 86, 92, 93, 123, 342
reciprocity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89, 409
RECTILINEAR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
redundancies . . 126, 323, 330, 337-340, 344, 345, 352, 354, 358, 365, 399, 401, 404, 406, 407,
411-413, 429, 431, 474, 476
redundancy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94, 268, 272, 325, 337, 352, 358, 401, 433, 454, 474, 485
REF . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 43, 50, 620
REFERENTIAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 14, 43-46, 49-51, 306, 620
Reibel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644, 653, 654
relational grammar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, 1, 328, 639, 653
relative clause . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166, 492, 542, 544, 548, 549, 551, 552
relative clauses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166, 182, 230, 513, 531, 532, 542-545, 547-559
REPRODUCE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 627
RES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 43, 50, 87, 109, 111-113, 140, 341, 393, 430, 431, 620
REST–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 630
RESULTATIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 43-45, 49, 50, 87, 109, 228, 417, 430, 431, 620
680
Rice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 63, 299, 655
Rijkhoff . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161, 654
RISE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Ritter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119, 202, 654
Rizzi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199, 227, 269, 542, 638, 654
ROAMING–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421, 630
ROAM–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Roberts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201, 584, 638, 649, 654
Robinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308, 652
ROBIN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377, 630
Rochemont . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438, 440, 444, 446-450, 654
Roeper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429, 436, 649
Romance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112, 158, 166, 283, 286
ROPE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418, 630
Rosch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331, 654
Rosen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119, 654
Rosenbaum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 641, 644, 648
Ross . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 546, 547, 596, 653, 654
Ross, B. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 654
Ross, J. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 546, 547
Rouveret . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 654
ROW–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416, 420, 624, 629, 630
Rudanko . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102, 486, 654
Russian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 11, 306, 639, 644
R–command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515, 541, 543, 609
Sadock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642, 645
Safir . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438, 440, 655
Sag . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448, 645, 655
Sagar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 655
Saint–Dizier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363, 655
Saito . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 539, 542, 650
Sandra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63, 642, 653, 655, 657
Sanskrit . . . i, 1, 3, 6, 7, 14, 29, 40, 41, 44, 46, 129, 205, 286, 287, 298, 302, 306, 646, 657, 658
Santorini . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574, 578, 649
SAY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326, 476, 632
SCALE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 378, 626, 630
Scarborough . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 655
Schachter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 152, 155, 504, 655, 657
Schane . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644, 653, 654
Schank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 655, 656
Schank’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 38
Schoorlemmer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429, 637
Schwyzer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304, 655
SCOMP . . . xv, 86-88, 94, 101, 105, 106, 125, 234, 268, 315, 324-326, 328, 329, 340, 373, 374,
681
393-399, 401, 413, 453, 470, 485, 488, 512, 516, 551, 571, 572, 581, 584, 591, 611
scrambling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 560, 563, 564, 579, 652
SCT . . . 85, 87, 88, 90-92, 94, 96, 97, 99, 106, 109, 110, 121, 122, 127, 128, 327-330, 340-342,
351, 354-357, 393-398, 429-431, 433, 453, 474, 511, 512
SCT_SUBJECT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 354-356, 394, 395, 397
Searle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 655
SEC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 515, 612
secondary complement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105, 315, 341
secondary complements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 86, 324, 609
Seely . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452, 579, 588, 644
SELF–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131, 133, 353, 411, 632
Sells . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184, 400, 655
semantic network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56-59, 88, 321, 324, 332, 363, 365, 414
semantic networks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56, 57, 63, 88, 318, 320, 322, 323, 377, 403, 651, 656
sentence adverb . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 212, 219
sentence adverbs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179, 212, 215, 225, 226
Shaffer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 655
Shastri . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 655
SHC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 539-542, 547, 611
Shibatani . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 655
SHINE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94, 123, 138, 327, 330, 357, 358, 392
Shlonsky . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565-568, 638
Shopen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637, 645, 653, 655, 656
Siewierska . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 656
Simmons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 656
Slobin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 643, 656
Small, S. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
Smith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24, 363, 402, 452, 586, 656
Smith, G. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363
Smith, N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 586
SMOKE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366, 630
Smyth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4, 5, 11, 43, 46, 153, 173, 304, 306, 433, 487, 656
Sneddon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400, 656
Sobin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545, 656
SOC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 506, 611
Solovyev . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 598, 656
Sonnenschein . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304, 656
SOURCE . 1-3, 9, 12, 13, 15, 16, 20, 21, 24, 25, 29-31, 35, 38-40, 42, 47-49, 51, 61, 85-97, 100,
106, 109, 111-113, 121, 124, 126-128, 130-139, 165, 204, 267, 271, 274, 285, 289, 291,
301, 302, 317, 324, 326, 328-330, 338, 339, 343-345, 347, 348, 355, 357, 374, 391, 393,
394, 396, 404-406, 408, 409, 422, 453, 476, 477, 485, 512, 513, 594, 607
SOURCE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 630
Spanish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 112, 158, 162, 165, 188, 189, 194, 346, 446, 483, 641
SPEAK–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 627
682
specifier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 158, 160, 197, 495, 529, 530, 535, 539, 611, 612
specifier heaviness condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 539, 611
specifiers . . xv, 156, 158, 160, 168, 170, 171, 173, 179, 184, 187, 192, 196-198, 204, 205, 263,
361, 451, 539, 560, 574, 593, 594, 609, 611
spectrum specification . . . 85, 86, 90, 91, 93-95, 97, 108, 111, 112, 122-124, 126, 266, 269, 326,
327, 330, 337-339, 343, 346, 353, 357, 358, 374, 393, 394, 396, 404, 422, 430, 433, 436,
453, 454, 469
spectrum specifications . . 85, 87, 88, 90, 92, 93, 95, 97, 107, 109, 110, 120, 121, 125, 126, 128,
129, 330, 351, 391, 408, 454, 469, 486
SPEECH_ACT_VERB–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376, 630
SPEECH_ACT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 623, 630
SPEECH–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 630
Spence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 651, 656
Spencer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 41, 656
SS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397-399, 401, 404, 408
STEALTH–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421, 630
Stegmann . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183, 649
Steinberg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644, 649, 656
Sternberg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183, 657
Stockwell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 657
STORM–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Stowell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196, 438, 657
Strauss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 657
strength of association . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331-334, 338, 363, 425, 571
Strict Order Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 506, 611
Stuurman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 657
SUBJECT . . . . i, iii, v, xv, 1, 2, 34, 36, 39, 40, 47, 49, 60, 63, 81, 86, 87, 91, 92, 94, 95, 97, 101,
105, 109, 115, 125, 126, 152, 156, 162, 163, 179, 180, 183, 186, 191, 192, 195, 200, 201,
206-209, 211, 217, 220, 226, 229-231, 233-235, 263-266, 268, 269, 272-276, 282, 284,
315, 324-329, 337, 339, 341-346, 349, 354-358, 365, 373, 375, 376, 393-395, 397-401,
404, 408, 411, 416, 417, 421, 422, 424-426, 428-431, 433-436, 440-445, 451-453, 471,
472, 476, 479-484, 486-488, 494, 502, 503, 505, 507, 510-516, 529, 530, 533, 539, 542,
544-547, 551, 554-556, 558, 560, 561, 563, 575, 578-581, 584, 585, 587, 588, 590, 593,
609, 611, 612
Subject Exclusion Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 515, 612
subjuncts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155, 170, 471
SUBJUNCT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 360, 623, 630
SUPERIOR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 61-63, 417, 419, 633
support verb . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 207, 208, 217, 533, 556, 585, 586, 590, 612
Support Verb Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 208, 612
SV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207-211, 217, 219, 220, 224, 225, 234, 533, 556, 560, 561, 573-578, 582
Svartvik . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 650, 653
SVC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 208, 217, 220, 224, 225, 229, 612
Swedish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 647
683
SWIM–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 59, 378, 624, 626, 630, 634
SYNCAT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 363, 630
syntactic schema . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii, 591
syntactic structure . . . . iii, 179, 188, 189, 195, 324-326, 343, 360, 373, 397, 399, 401, 404, 411,
436, 453, 454, 595, 609, 641, 657
Tagalog . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 638, 639, 655
Talmy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19, 657
Tanenhaus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 656
Taraporewala . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 657
Taylor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 62, 63, 331, 657
Taylor, J. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 62, 63, 331
TEAR_DUCT–1a . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364, 630
TEAR–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364, 370, 630
TEAR–2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364, 373, 631
temporal . . . . . . . 17, 18, 21, 22, 26, 29, 33, 42, 179, 180, 212, 215, 225-228, 317, 321, 370, 558
TENSE . . . . xv, 152, 153, 155, 156, 167, 172, 175, 177, 178, 183, 186, 191, 192, 199, 206-208,
210, 216, 217, 220, 224, 225, 229, 264, 370-372, 412, 479, 483, 529, 530, 534, 556, 574,
575, 590, 595, 607, 609, 611, 612, 620, 634
TENSE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368, 632, 633
TERMINATIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 25, 44, 45, 49, 50, 87, 108, 109, 417, 620
TG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, xv, 1, 151, 156, 166, 167, 184, 194, 197, 206, 230, 365, 584
Thai . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 158, 173, 643
THAT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 360, 632
that–V3 classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
thematic hierarchies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327, 341, 356, 393, 397, 435
thematic hierarchy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355, 650
thematic marker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 1, 9, 12, 16, 52, 54, 128, 129, 267, 307, 320
thematic markers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 3, 9, 16, 20, 24, 29, 31, 41, 62, 128, 129, 268, 321
thematic relation . . ii, 1, 12, 23, 25, 42, 52, 86, 97, 101, 122, 154, 263, 272, 274-277, 288, 289,
291, 293, 300, 305, 315, 322, 325, 326, 341, 360, 366, 397, 410, 453, 454, 470, 615-620
thematic relations . i, ii, xvi, 1-3, 5, 9, 11, 12, 14-18, 20, 25-27, 29, 30, 32, 35, 36, 40, 41, 46, 48-
52, 54-58, 62, 81, 84-86, 101, 122, 124, 128, 129, 151, 206, 263, 266-268, 272, 273, 275-
277, 281, 288, 293, 307, 315-322, 325, 327, 331, 365, 377, 380, 394, 396, 401, 402, 404,
406, 425, 428, 430, 436, 453, 454, 469, 486, 596, 607, 647
theme list . . 86-88, 93, 94, 125, 126, 286, 315, 327, 337-339, 342, 346, 351, 354, 356, 357, 366,
393, 396-399, 404, 408, 410, 411, 413, 415-417, 437, 477
theme lists . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92, 346, 393, 403, 407, 408, 416, 417, 433
there–insertion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437, 438, 440-442, 445, 506, 507, 658
theta–criterion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430, 436
theta–marking . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
theta–role . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 436
theta–roles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1, 208, 211, 217, 220, 612
Thiersch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574, 657
THINK–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 627
684
Thompson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 653, 657
Thorne . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8, 657
Thráinsson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637, 653
TICKET–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123, 137
Tinrin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 11, 55, 652
TNS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156, 167, 168, 177, 217, 222, 451
Tocharian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53, 307
Tomasello . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202, 657
TOOL–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 428, 626, 628
Torman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 646, 657
Torrey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 646
TO–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405, 406, 412, 474, 623
TR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397, 425, 426
transformational grammar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv, xv, 1, 537, 638-641, 648, 654
TRANSITIVITY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 374, 632
TRM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 44, 50, 86, 87, 100, 102, 108-111, 140, 341, 393, 473, 474, 620, 627
TROUBLE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
TROUT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322
Tuladhar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v, 9, 158, 159, 298-300, 657
Tulving . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547, 596, 657
Tunmer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 657
Turkish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 2, 5, 6, 9, 40, 44, 129, 303, 650
TYP1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 374, 417, 623-634
TYP2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 374, 377, 623-635
TYPOLOGICAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 84, 88, 197, 318-320, 323, 326, 378, 620
UFO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 192
unaccusative . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434-436, 567
understood reflexive object alternation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 410
UNDERSTOOD–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 410, 411, 632
unergative . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434, 435, 567
UP–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 417-420, 623, 633
Ura . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 586, 658
USE_TOOLS–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 627
user friendly output . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
Van Belle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 658
Van Langendonck . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 658
Van Riemsdijk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554, 658
Van Valin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100, 645
Vasu . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 658
VBL . . . . . . 154, 155, 167, 173, 176, 177, 208, 209, 216, 233, 264, 368, 482, 533, 580, 612, 633
VBL_FEAT–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368, 633
verb . ii, iii, xv, 2, 11-13, 15, 16, 20, 23, 30, 31, 33-36, 39, 47, 51, 53, 55, 59, 62, 63, 81, 85, 86,
88, 90, 94, 95, 97, 100, 102-104, 107, 111, 116, 117, 119, 120, 122-125, 151-153, 155, 160,
167-171, 173-176, 178, 180, 182, 183, 186, 187, 190-192, 194, 195, 200, 202, 203, 206-
685
229, 234, 235, 263, 265, 266, 272, 273, 276, 277, 279, 281, 283, 285, 286, 288, 289, 316,
317, 323-330, 334, 337, 338, 341-346, 349-351, 353-355, 364, 365, 370, 372-374, 378,
379, 393-395, 400-404, 406, 408-412, 414-418, 420, 422, 428, 429, 431, 433, 435, 442,
443, 448, 451, 454, 469, 471, 473, 474, 476-479, 481, 482, 484-487, 493, 494, 502, 505-
507, 512-514, 529, 533, 535-537, 540, 544, 550, 556, 560, 562, 563, 565, 570-575, 577-
579, 581-591, 597, 610-612, 623, 630, 632, 634, 637, 638, 646, 650, 653, 658
verb second . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573, 579, 646
verbal . . 30, 41, 47, 55, 59, 86, 115, 117, 119, 153, 155, 169, 170, 179, 183, 186, 209-211, 214,
226, 277, 324, 329, 330, 366, 368, 454, 469-471, 479, 481, 484, 502, 505, 516, 565, 566,
571, 574, 575, 585, 596, 638, 644, 648
verbals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277, 479, 480, 483, 484, 574, 578
verbs . i, xv, 1, 5, 16, 23, 30, 31, 33, 46-49, 55, 56, 61, 62, 83, 84, 86, 88, 89, 91-94, 96, 98, 100,
101, 105, 106, 112, 115, 119-121, 123, 124, 128, 151-155, 168, 170-173, 175, 180, 183,
189, 194, 196-204, 207-209, 213, 216, 218, 220, 224, 225, 229, 267-269, 272-276, 278-
281, 283, 285, 286, 291, 305, 316, 323-326, 328-330, 337, 339, 340, 342, 344-349, 351,
353-355, 370, 375, 376, 379, 394, 398-406, 408-411, 413-418, 420, 421, 427, 429-438,
441-443, 448, 451, 452, 472, 474, 475, 477-479, 482, 483, 485-487, 502, 511-513, 515,
527, 533, 535, 537, 542, 546, 556, 560, 567, 571, 572, 574, 583, 592, 597, 607, 639, 640,
644-646, 649, 650, 652, 657, 658
VERB–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 360, 364, 370, 373, 376, 415, 419, 420, 624, 625, 630-634
VERTEBRATE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322, 377, 624, 626, 628, 633
VERTICALITY–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418, 626, 627, 633
Viegas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363, 655
VOICE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368, 369, 633, 634
Wagner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v, 325, 358
Wanner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 646
Ward . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440, 658
Wasow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640, 642, 643
Waterman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573, 658
WAVE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411, 414, 634
WAVE–2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414, 415, 634
WAX–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123, 327, 330, 357, 358
Webelhuth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194, 202, 647, 658
Weinberg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199, 647
Weinreich . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17, 658
Wells, C. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596, 658
Welsh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i, 5, 6, 8, 129, 161, 639, 649, 657
Whitney . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 4, 44, 46, 303, 306, 658
WH–phrase . . . 189, 231, 232, 235, 447, 478, 531-535, 538, 539, 541, 542, 544, 546, 550, 553,
554, 556, 582, 583, 585, 609, 612
WH–phrases . . . . 190, 230, 447, 527, 528, 532, 535, 537-540, 550, 554, 555, 583, 585, 610, 611
WH–V3 classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475
Wierzbicka . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475, 486, 658
WIFE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 627, 634
686
Wilder . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217, 220, 223, 224, 658
Williams . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438, 554, 658
WING–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56-58, 378, 624, 634
WITH–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325, 397, 405, 406, 627
WOMAN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376, 634
Woodcock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43, 100, 276, 280, 281, 283, 287, 294-296, 303, 658
word order . . . . . 152, 265, 308, 380, 435, 530, 547, 555, 561-565, 573, 574, 595, 647, 654, 658
WRENCH–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345
WREN–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359, 635
WRITE–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 627
X Projection Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 505, 612
X1L . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 346, 365, 366, 412, 623, 624, 626, 627
X1–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361, 374, 375, 627, 632, 635
X2L . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
X2–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361, 627, 635
X3 Cue Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 533, 612
X3 Specifier Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 530, 612
X3L . . . . . . 176, 187, 190, 194, 195, 205, 212, 360, 361, 365, 366, 451, 553, 556, 588, 624, 625
X3–1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361, 627, 635
XCC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 533, 559, 612
XPC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 505, 612
XSC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 530, 612
Yasutake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44, 658
Yoruba . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161, 211
Zaenan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 651
Zelinsky–Wibbelt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 657, 658
Zwart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637, 653
[+PST]–inversion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438, 445
[e]–Binding Condition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv, 545, 559, 611
›–marking . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 646
›–roles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvi, 1, 570

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The Cognitive Foundations of Language

Semantic and Syntactic Categories in Universal Grammar

First Printed in 1996.

The Langtech Corporation

Printed in Troy, Michigan by The Langtech Corporation.

TABLE OF CONTENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii

ABBREVIATIONS AND TERMINOLOGY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

1.1 INTRODUCTION: THE CATEGORIAL PROBLEM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

1.2 POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17

1.3 SOME BASIC FEATURE DISTINCTIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

FIGURE ONE: PROXIMAL POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

FIGURE TWO: NONPROXIMAL POSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

1.4 MOVEMENT AND NONMOVEMENT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28

1.5 NEGATION AND CAUSATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33

1.6 NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

1.7 GENERAL HYPOTHESIS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

1.8 EXPRESSIONS OF POSSESSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36

1.9 THE METAPHORICAL USES OF THE FEATURES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40

1.10 HOW MANY THEMATIC RELATIONS ARE THERE? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49

FIGURE THREE: PROXIMAL NONPOSITIONAL THEMATIC RELATIONS . . . . . . . . . . 50

1.11 THEMATIC AND ATHEMATIC ASPECTS OF PERCEPTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

1.12 A PREVIEW OF SEMANTIC NETWORKS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56

1.13 GENERALIZING MEANING: MOTION OVER AN EXPANSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59

1.14 LEXICAL SPECIFICATION OF MEANING. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62

ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER ONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65

2.1 THE NEED FOR A TYPOLOGY OF PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

2.2 POSITIONAL VERSUS NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84

2.3 SEMANTIC DISTINCTIONS AMONG PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85

FIGURE FIVE: SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87

2.4 INGRESSIVE (IGR) PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88

2.5 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS: POSITIONAL PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92

2.6 SPECTRUM SPECIFICATIONS: NONPOSITIONAL PREDICATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93

2.7 SUMMARY OF PREDICATE TYPES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

FIGURE SIX: SUMMARY OF PREDICATE TYPES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96

FIGURE SIX: SUPPLEMENT ONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96

2.8 NONSTATIVE REDUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98

FIGURE SIX: SUPPLEMENT TWO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99

2.9 GENERALIZATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105

2.10 SOME APPARENT PROBLEMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107

2.11 INCORPORATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114

ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER TWO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141

CHAPTER THREE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

3.1 A FEATURE ANALYSIS FOR SYNTACTIC CATEGORIES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

FIGURE SEVEN I: FEATURES FOR ENGLISH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176

FIGURE SEVEN II: FEATURES FOR ENGLISH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177

3.2 THE ENGLISH NOUN PHRASE CONDITION (NPC). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180

3.3 PHRASE STRUCTURE FRAMES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184

3.4 COMPARISON WITH OTHER FEATURE SYSTEMS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194

3.5 THE AUXILIARY SYSTEM IN ENGLISH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206

3.6 ADVERBS IN FRENCH AND ITALIAN. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227

3.7 CONDITIONS ON REPRESENTATIONS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230

ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER THREE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237

CHAPTER FOUR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263

4.1 SYNTACTIC USES OF CASE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263

4.2 SEMANTIC USES OF CASE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266

4.3 THE LATIN CASE SYSTEM. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272

4.4 COMPARISON OF ENGLISH, LATIN, NEWARI AND JAPANESE. . . . . . . . . . . . . 292

4.5 CASE IN INDO–EUROPEAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 302

ENDNOTES TO CHAPTER FOUR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309

CHAPTER FIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 315

5.1 COMPUTATIONAL APPLICATIONS: DIMENSIONAL EXPRESSIONS . . . . . . . . 315