Japanese

A Linguistic Introduction
This comprehensive introduction to the Japanese language consists of six
parts. Following the introductory section, it explores the Japanese lexicon,
grammatical foundations, major clause types, clause linkage, and language
usage. The discussions of formal and structural properties of Japanese such
as sound structure, vocabulary, and grammar assist readers as they gain
insight into historical and sociocultural aspects of Japanese; some are
compared with those of English-speaking nations.
An ideal choice for instructors, the book includes twenty-eight chapters,
sufficient for approximately ninety hours of hands-on instruction. Each
topic has been rigorously selected based on the author’s experience of
more than two decades teaching Japanese linguistics.
The book’s breadth and depth make it highly appropriate for learners of
the Japanese language, for linguistics students interested in Japanese, and
for researchers interested in Japanese linguistics.
Online resources include exercises and supplementary multimedia
materials to enhance the reader’s comprehension and enjoyment.
YOKO HASEGAWA is Professor of Japanese Linguistics at the
University of California, Berkeley.

2
 Japanese

A Linguistic Introduction

Yoko Hasegawa

3
University Printing House, Cambridge CB2 8BS, United Kingdom
Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge.
It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the
pursuit of education, learning and research at the highest international
levels of excellence.
www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781107611474
© Yoko Hasegawa 2015
This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the
provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of
any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge
University Press.
First published 2015
Printed in the United Kingdom by Clays, St Ives plc
A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British
Library
Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data
Hasegawa, Yoko, 1950–
Japanese : a linguistic introduction / Yoko Hasegawa.
pages cm
English and Japanese.
ISBN 978-1-107-03277-4 (Hardback) – ISBN 978-1-107-61147-4
(Paperback)
1. Japanese language–Textbooks for foreign speakers–English. 2. Japanese
language–Grammar–Study and teaching. 3. Japanese language–Sound
recordings
for English speakers. I. Title.
PL539.5.E5H27 2014
495.65–dc23 2014023665
ISBN 978-1-107-03277-4 Hardback
ISBN 978-1-107-61147-4 Paperback
Additional resources for this publication at www.cambridge.org/hasegawa
Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or
accuracy of URLs for external or third-party internet websites referred to
in this publication, and does not guarantee that any content on such
websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

4
To the memory of Charles J. Fillmore (August 9, 1929–February 13,
2014)

5
 Contents
List of figures
List of maps
List of tables
Preface
Abbreviations

Part I Introduction
1 Typological and historical overview
1.1 About the Japanese language
1.2 Historical development
1.2.1 Prehistoric age
1.2.2 Old Japanese (592–794 AD)
1.2.3 Late Old Japanese (794–1192)
1.2.4 Middle Japanese (1192–1603)
1.2.5 Early Modern Japanese (1603–1867)
1.2.6 Modern Japanese (1867 to present)
2 Dialects
2.1 Introduction
2.2 Okinawan dialects
2.3 Mainland dialects
2.3.1 Divisions by sound system
2.3.2 Divisions by vocabulary
2.3.3 Divisions by verb/adjective conjugation
2.3.4 Divisions by pitch accent patterns
3 Sound system
3.1 The syllable inventory
3.2 Long vowels and consonants
3.3 Syllables and moras
3.4 Vowel devoicing
3.5 Pitch accent
3.6 Successions of vowels
3.7 Sequential voicing (rendaku)
4 Writing system
4.1 Writing Japanese with kanji
4.2 Development of kana syllabaries
4.3 Orthography reforms
4.4 The frequencies of kanji in Japanese texts
4.5 Hiragana and katakana conventions

6
 4.6 Romanization
Part II Lexicon
5 Vocabulary
5.1 Word categories
5.2 Word classes
5.2.1 Nouns
5.2.2 Verbs
5.2.3 Adjectives
5.2.4 Adverbs
5.2.5 Pronouns
5.2.6 Particles
5.2.7 Numeral classifiers
5.2.8 Ideophones
5.3 Word frequencies
6 Word structure
6.1 Verb conjugation
6.2 Copula conjugation
6.3 I-adjective conjugation
6.4 Casual speech
6.5 Deriving nouns
6.6 Deriving verbs
6.7 Deriving adjectives
6.8 Compounding
6.9 Abbreviation
Part III Grammatical foundations
7 Grammatical relations and case marking
7.1 Introduction
7.2 Intransitive vs. transitive predicates
7.3 Valence
7.4 Transitivity
7.5 Arguments vs. adjuncts
7.6 Discrepancies between case and grammatical relations
7.7 Fluctuation between nominative and accusative markings
8 Subjects and topics
8.1 Introduction
8.2 Identifiability
8.3 Anaphoric topics
8.4 Generic topics
8.5 Unique topics
8.6 Non-subject topics

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 8.7 Topic–comment vs. event reporting sentences
8.8 Attribute description
8.9 Focus
8.10 Contrastive wa
8.11 Negative-scope marker wa
8.12 Dependent clauses
8.13 The wa–ga construction
8.14 Staging
8.15 A case study
9 Tense, aspect, and taxis
9.1 Introduction
9.2 Tense
9.3 Aspect
9.4 Taxis
9.5 Reference time
9.6 -Ta and ‑ru in discourse
9.7 The perfect
9.8 The resultative
9.9 Summary
Part IV Major clause types
10 Measurement and comparison
10.1 Measurement
10.2 Comparison
10.3 Measured difference
10.4 Less/fewer
10.5 Modifying nouns
11 Causatives
11.1 Introduction
11.2 Case marking of the causee
11.3 Animate vs. inanimate causers and causees
11.4 Causative vs. transitive verbs
11.5 The permissive causative
11.6 The intermediary causative
11.7 The structure of the causative construction
12 Passives
12.1 Introduction
12.2 Direct vs. indirect passives
12.3 Adversity in the indirect passive
12.4 Agency in passives
12.5 Stative verbs in passives

8
 12.6 The ni-yotte passive
12.7 The structure of the passive constructions
12.8 The causative passive
13 Benefactives
13.1 Introduction
13.2 Donatory verbs
13.2.1 Directions of transfer
13.2.2 Relative status of giver and receiver
13.3 Benefactive constructions
13.3.1 Two types of beneficiary
13.3.2 The event benefactive
13.4 Implicit meanings of donatory verbs
13.5 The ‑te morau causative
13.6 The causative + ‑te itadaku
13.7 -Te kureru vs. ‑te kuru
13.8 Malefactive rendering
14 Noun modification and complementation
14.1 Introduction
14.2 The gapped externally headed relative clause
14.3 The internally headed relative clause
14.4 The gapless relative clause
14.5 Extraction from adverbial clauses
14.6 Extraction from relative clauses
14.7 Questioning a constituent inside relative clauses
14.8 Tense in relative clauses
14.9 Noun complementation
15 Nominalization
15.1 Introduction
15.2 No vs. koto
15.3 No/koto vs. to
15.4 The n(o) + copula construction
15.4.1 External negation
15.4.2 Metalinguistic negation
15.4.3 N(o) da as a nominal predication
15.4.4 N(o) da to supply background information
15.4.5 N(o) da and the expression of spontaneity
Part V Clause linkage
16 Temporal clauses
16.1 Introduction
16.2 P′ ≺ Q′

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 16.2.1 P-te Q
16.2.2 P-te kara Q
16.2.3 P-ta ato (de) Q
16.2.4 P-ta ato ni Q
16.2.5 P-tara Q
16.2.6 P-ru to Q
16.2.7 P-ta toki Q
16.3 Q′ ≺ P′
16.3.1 P-ru mae ni Q
16.3.2 P-nai uchi ni Q
16.3.3 P-ru toki Q
16.4 P′ ≈ Q′
16.4.1 P-nagara Q
16.4.2 P-ru aida/uchi ni Q
16.4.3 P-ru aida/aida-jū (zutto) Q
17 Causal and concessive clauses
17.1 Introduction
17.2 Causal connections in Japanese
17.2.1 Kara
17.2.2 Node
17.2.3 Tame ni
17.3 Concessive connections
17.3.1 English
17.3.2 Japanese
18 Conditional clauses
18.1 Introduction
18.2 Content conditionals
18.3 Epistemic conditionals
18.3.1 P′ ≈ Q′ or P′ ≺ Q′
18.3.2 Q′ ≺ P′
18.3.3 Counterfactual conditionals
18.4 Generic (tenseless) conditionals
18.5 Speech-act conditionals
18.6 Summary
Part VI Pragmatics (language usage)
19 Speech acts
19.1 Introduction
19.2 Apologies
19.3 Commands
19.4 Compliments and responses

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 19.5 Invitations and requests
19.6 Refusal
19.7 Thanking
20 Politeness and honorifics I
20.1 Introduction
20.2 Addressee honorifics
20.2.1 Verbs
20.2.2 I-adjectives
20.3 Referent honorifics
20.3.1 Verbs
20.3.2 Combination of verb honorifics
20.3.3 Adjectives
20.3.4 Nouns
20.4 Humilifics
20.4.1 Verbs
20.4.2 Nouns
20.5 Humilifics as addressee honorifics
20.6 Beautification
20.7 Honorifics as an indication of refinement
21 Politeness and honorifics II
21.1 Introduction
21.2 Objections to Brown and Levinson’s theory
21.3 Counter-arguments to Ide’s theory
21.4 Honorifics and politeness
21.5 Problems with Brown and Levinson’s theory
21.5.1 Combining positive and negative politeness
21.5.2 One strategy per FTA
21.5.3 Risk avoidance as the sole motivation for politeness
21.6 Reconciling Brown and Levinson’s theory and Japanese
politeness
21.6.1 Robin Lakoff’s theory
21.6.2 Honorifics as a different politeness mode
21.6.3 Modifying Brown and Levinson’s theory
22 Speech style shift
22.1 Introduction
22.2 Affective distance
22.3 Social roles
22.4 Domains of information
22.5 Awareness of the addressee
22.6 The use of soliloquy to express intimacy and deference

11
 simultaneously
23 Sentence-final particles
23.1 Introduction
23.2 Common sentence-final particles
23.2.1 Ka
23.2.2 Kashira
23.2.3 Ke
23.2.4 Na
23.2.5 No
23.2.6 Sa
23.2.7 Wa
23.2.8 Ya
23.2.9 Ze
23.2.10 Zo
23.3 Ne and yo in conversation
23.4 Ne and yo in soliloquy
23.4.1 Ne
23.4.2 Yo
23.5 Acquisition of sentence-final particles
24 Modality and evidentiality
24.1 Modality
24.1.1 Deontic modality
24.1.2 Epistemic modality
24.2 Evidentiality
24.2.1 Sō da
24.2.2 -Tte
24.2.3 Yō da/mitai da
24.2.4 Rashii
24.2.5 Other types of evidential expressions
24.3 Information territory
24.3.1 The theory of territory of information
24.3.2 Four cases of information
24.3.3 Obligatory vs. optional ne
24.3.4 Hearsay
25 Backchanneling
25.1 Introduction
25.2 Frequencies of backchannels in Japanese and American
English
25.3 Timing of backchannels
25.4 The co-construction puzzle

12
26 Demonstratives
26.1 Introduction
26.2 Deixis and anaphora
26.3 Anaphoric use of Japanese demonstratives
26.4 Ko-so-a in soliloquy
26.4.1 Ko-
26.4.2 So-
26.4.3 A-
26.4.4 Chafe’s model of consciousness
27 Represented speech
27.1 Introduction
27.2 Deixis in represented speech
27.3 Omission of verbs of saying/thinking
27.4 Blended speech
27.5 Free indirect speech
27.6 Self-quotation
28 Gendered language
28.1 Introduction
28.2 Formal characteristics of Japanese gendered speech
28.3 Role language
28.4 Origins and development of gendered language in Japanese
28.5 Gendered language in soliloquy
References
Index

13
Figures
1.1 Hattori’s analysis
4.1 Pictographs
4.2 Vowel insertion
5.1 Word frequency of use
13.1 AGERU and KURERU
13.2 MORAU
15.1 Sequential scanning
15.2 Summary scanning
16.1 P-nai uchi ni Q
20.1 Addressee vs. referent honorifics
21.1 Strategies for doing FTAs
24.1 Territories of information
27.1 Two speech situations

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Maps
1.1 The Japanese archipelago
2.1 Okinawa
2.2 The regions of Japan
2.3 The Itoigawa–Shizuoka Tectonic Line
2.4 Pitch–accent patterns

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Tables
1.1 Modern and Old Japanese syllables
1.2 Modern and Middle Japanese syllables
2.1 Variations in pitch accent
3.1 Japanese syllables
4.1 Japanese syllabaries
4.2 Kanji frequency of use
4.3 Romanization systems
5.1 Word frequency of use
9.1 Semantics of the constructions discussed in this chapter
17.1 Kara, node, and tame ni compared
20.1 Plain vs. polite forms of verbs
20.2 Plain vs. polite forms of i-adjectives (a)
20.3 Plain vs. polite forms of i-adjectives (b)
20.4 Honorific verbs
20.5 O-V ni naru
20.6 Go-VN ni naru
20.7 Go-VN nasaru
20.8 VN nasaru
20.9 O-V asobasu/go-VN asobasu
20.10 V-(r)are-ru
20.11 Combination of verb honorifics
20.12 Honorific form of i-adjectives
20.13 Honorific form of nouns
20.14 Humilific verbs
20.15 O-V suru
20.16 Go-VN suru
20.17 Humilific form of nouns
20.18 Beautified nouns
21.1 Dichotomy of addressees
22.1 Dichotomy of addressees
23.1 Usage of SFPs by gender
23.2 Acquisition of SFPs
26.1 Japanese demonstratives
28.1 Development of gendered SFPs

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 Preface

Japanese: A Linguistic Introduction is intended to be a college-level

reference book on the Japanese language that can also serve as the
principal textbook in an introductory course in Japanese linguistics. It
explains various linguistic phenomena organized by and in terms of
analytical methods developed in the discipline of linguistics. I have
endeavored to maintain breadth of scope and intellectual depth sufficient
and appropriate for a college course, including discussion of why certain
linguistic phenomena are interesting or important and thus continue to be
investigated. The targeted readership includes undergraduate and graduate
students who are interested in the Japanese language and linguistics,
instructors of Japanese, and researchers who wish to survey the field of
Japanese linguistics.
To reinforce the reader’s comprehension, exercises and multimedia
supplementary materials are available on the book’s website:
http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php. Many
referenced works are also available online; their URLs are listed in the
reference section of the book, although they might cease to exist at any
time.
I am deeply indebted to many individuals. First and foremost, I wish to
record my gratitude to my students at UC Berkeley, who for more than
twenty years have provided inspiration and served as a sounding board.
Without them, this book would not have materialized. I am also grateful to
those who read earlier versions of the manuscript and offered critical
commentary and editorial advice; they include Setsuko Arita, Dante
Aurele, Kazue Hata, Yukio Hirose, Christine Jiang, Mika Kizu, Russell
Lee-Goldman, Brendan Morley, Gabriel Pellikka, Dennis Ryan, Masaharu
Shimada, Mitsuaki Shimojo, Eve Sweetser, Naoaki Wada, and Ikuko
Yuasa. Special thanks go to Junko Habu for her expertise in Jomon
anthropology, Minae Oda and Keiko Unedaya for helping me decipher the
Kagoshima dialect, and Helen Rippier Wheeler for her continuing
linguistic and moral support. Illustrations were created by Neil Cohn,
Kosuke Kato, and Natsuko Shibata Perera. I also thank Helen Barton and
Helena Dowson, editors at the Cambridge University Press, for their
commitment to the publication of this book, and copy-editor Gwynneth
Drabble.
This project was supported in part by grants from the University of

17
California, Berkeley Academic Senate, the Center for Japanese Studies,
and the Department of East Asian Languages and Cultures.

During the final phase of this book’s production, I was deeply grieved
by the death of my long-time mentor, Professor Charles J. Fillmore.
Professor Fillmore began his Japanese Linguistics Seminar at UC Berkeley
in 1987 when I was a graduate student, and continued offering it until the
summer of 2012, when his health had deteriorated.
He acquired his fluency in the Japanese language while stationed in
Kyoto after the Korean War. Following discharge from the military, he
studied Japanese at Kyoto University. He proudly recited excerpts from
classical Japanese literature. I fondly remember many discussions of the
topics included in this book and his keen analyses in his low-keyed, warm
voice.
Yoko Hasegawa
February 2014

18
 Abbreviations
# unacceptable

? questionable acceptability

* ungrammatical

ACC accusative particle

ADV adverbial form

ATT attributive form

CAUS causative

CNT contrastive use of wa

CNJ conjectural form

COND conditional particle

COP copula

DAT dative particle

EVID evidential expression

GEN genitive particle

HON honorific form

HUM humilific form

HYP hypothetical form

IMP imperative (command) form

INT interrogative particle

INTJ interjection

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Lit. literally

NEG negative form

NEG-SCP negative scope marking of wa

NMLZ nominalizer

NOM nominative particle

NP noun phrase

NPST nonpast tense form

PASS passive form

PAST past tense form

PLAIN plain form

POL polite form

PRES presumptive form

QUOT quotative particle

SFP sentence-final particle

TE conjunctive particle

TOP topic particle

VOL volitional form

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Part I Introduction

21
 1 Typological and historical overview
This book attempts to describe and, in so far as is possible, explain various
characteristics of the Japanese language. This introductory chapter
provides a brief overview of its typological characteristics and historical
development. Chapter 2 deals with regional dialectal variations. Although
I strive to use minimal linguistic jargon, some technical terminology is
inevitable, as ordinary language does not provide a sufficient vocabulary
for describing its internal workings. Critical vocabulary terms are
explained when they are introduced and are also listed in the index.
Because this chapter and Chapter 2 employ a number of them, readers who
are not yet familiar with general linguistics may prefer to read Chapters 1
and 2 after Chapter 7.
1.1 About the Japanese language
Japanese is the native language of virtually all Japanese nationals,
approximately 128 million as of 2011,1 the ninth largest native-speaker
population among the world’s languages.2 Moreover, as of November
2011, approximately 128,000 non-native speakers in Japan were studying
Japanese as a foreign language.3 Overseas, approximately 3.65 million
persons in 133 countries studied Japanese in 2009.4
Typologically, Japanese is classified as an AGGLUTINATIVE
LANGUAGE because units of meaning are “glued” on one after another as
exemplified in (1). (Abbreviations appearing in the annotations are listed
before the beginning of this chapter.)
(1)
tabe- sase- rare- taku- na- katta- ra

eat CAUS PASS want.to NEG PAST COND

‘if (you) don’t want to be made to eat’

Tabe- is the invariant part of the verb taberu ‘eat’ (Chapter 5); sase- is
the causative auxiliary (Chapter 11); rare- is the passive auxiliary (Chapter
12); taku- is the adverbial form of the auxiliary ‑tai ‘want to do ~’ (Section
7.6); na- is the invariant part of the negative auxiliary nai ‘not’ (Section
6.1); ‑katta can be considered as the past tense marker (Section 6.3); ra is a
conditional connective particle (Chapter 18).
Many characteristics of the world’s languages are predictable based

22
upon the basic word order of subject, object, and verb in declarative
sentences (Greenberg 1963). The vast majority of the world’s languages
are either subject-verb-object (SVO) or subject-object-verb (SOV) in
orientation. Japanese falls into the latter group, and is characterized as an
SOV LANGUAGE. As Greenberg’s typology predicts, when an auxiliary
element is attached to a main verb, it always follows the main verb as in
(1); Japanese uses POSTPOSITIONS (e.g. byōin ni) instead of
PREPOSITIONS (e.g. to the hospital) as in (2a); the interrogative (question)
marker ka appears at the end of the sentence as in (2b); and the word order
in questions involving an INTERROGATIVE word (e.g. who, what, where,
when) does not differ from declarative-sentence counterparts as shown in
(2c) (see Section 14.7 for further discussion).
(2) a.
Kinō byōin ni ikimashita.

yesterday hospital to went

(I) went to the hospital yesterday.’

b.
Kinō byōin ni ikimashita ka.

yesterday hospital to went INT

‘Did (you) go to the hospital yesterday?’

c.
Kinō doko ni ikimashita ka.

yesterday where to went INT

‘Where did (you) go yesterday?’

Modifying elements – i.e. demonstratives (e.g. this, that; see

Subsections 5.2.5 and 5.2.26), adjectives, and relative clauses (see
Chapters 14 and 26) – always precede the modified noun, e.g. kono ‘this’
+ kuruma ‘car’, chiisai ‘small’ + kuruma. When a proper noun and a
common noun are combined, the former always precedes the latter (see
Subsection 5.2.1), e.g. Aoyama-dōri ‘Aoyama Street’, Sumida-gawa
‘Sumida River’, Shimogamo-jinja ‘Shimogamo Shrine’, Takao-san
‘Mount Takao’. In comparison constructions (see Chapter 10), the order of
the constituent in English is adjective-marker-standard as in heavier

23
[adjective] than [marker] that chair [standard], whereas that in Japanese is
standard-marker-adjective as exemplified in (3):
(3)
Kono isu wa ano isu yori omoi
[standard] [marker] [adjective].

this chair TOP that chair than heavy

‘This chair is heavier [adjective] than [marker] that chair

[standard].’

In linguistics courses, Japanese is a stock language for illustrating pitch

accent (see Section 3.5), sound-symbolic vocabulary (e.g. onomatopoeia;
see Subsection 5.2.8), case marking (see Chapter 7), the topic–comment
construction (Chapter 8), indirect passive constructions (Section 12.2),
internally headed relative clauses (Section 14.3), honorifics (Chapters 20–
21), and gendered language variation (Chapter 28).
1.2 Historical development
The various developmental stages of the Japanese language are commonly
associated with the following historical periods.
Prehistoric ~ AD Jōmon, Yayoi, and Kofun periods
600

Old Japanese 592– Asuka and Nara periods

794

Late Old 794– Heian period

Japanese 1192

Middle Japanese 1192– Kamakura, Muromachi, and Azuchi-

1603 Momoyama periods

Early Modern 1603– Edo period

Japanese 1868

Modern 1868 ~ Meiji, Taishō, Shōwa, and Heisei

Japanese periods5

1.2.1 Prehistoric age

24
The Japanese archipelago has been inhabited for at least 30,000 years
(Ikawa-Smith 1978: 276). The first inhabitants are believed to have
migrated from southeast Asia during the Paleolithic period (a.k.a. the
Stone Age) (Hanihara 1991: 7). The next period, called Jōmon, began
approximately 16,500 years ago, triggered by rapid climate change at the
end of the Ice Age (Habu 2004: 3, 245). The Jōmon people, evolved from
the Paleolithic population, were gatherers, fishers, and hunters who
inhabited the length and breadth of Japan, from Hokkaidō in the north to
Okinawa in the south (Hanihara 1991: 7).
Around the third century BC, metal tools and paddy-field rice
cultivation were introduced as part of the massive-scale migration from the
north Asian mainland primarily via the Korean Peninsula, which marks the
beginning of the Yayoi period. Newcomers formed small states, probably
in northern Kyūshū, that eventually gave rise to a larger power structure,
and by the sixth century AD an Imperial Court was established in the
Kinki (Nara-Kyōto) district (Hanihara 1991: 24). Today’s Japanese people
are, ethnologically, an amalgamation of the populations of both southeast
and northeast Asia, and the development of the Japanese language reflects
this amalgamation.

25
Map 1.1. The Japanese archipelago.
Many researchers consider this racial mixing to continue to be in
progress in modern times. For example, Hanihara (1991: 18–19) contends
that examination of the skeletal morphology of modern Japanese men
reveals that north Asian characteristics predominate in north Kyūshū and
west Honshū (the largest island of Japan), whereas Jōmon characteristics
have been maintained in Hokkaidō, northeast Honshū (i.e. Tōhoku),
Shikoku, south Kyūshū, and Amami and Okinawa islands. This
distribution indicates that the regions which were little affected by the
Imperial Court in the early historic ages have retained their Jōmon
heritage. This hypothesis has been supported by studies of modern
Japanese people in molecular genetics (Omoto 1978; Hammer and Horai
1995) and in measurements of bodily dimensions (Kouchi 1983).

26
 The origins of the Japanese language have been disputed. For example,
Miller (1971) and N. Osada (1974) argue that Japanese belongs to the
ALTAIC language family, while Murayama (1974) and Kawamoto (1980)
attribute its origins to the AUSTRONESIAN family of languages spoken on
the islands of southeast Asia and the Pacific. Ono (1981), on the other
hand, claims that Japanese belongs to the DRAVIDIAN language family,
particularly close to Tamil (a language spoken in southern India and
northeastern Sri Lanka). This book will not engage in this issue further
because linguistic techniques and methods used to determine language
origins are limited to the last 5,000–6,000 years, whereas the Japanese
language originated much earlier (Matsumoto 2003: 45). As a result, there
has been a consistent decline in interest in this topic among historical
linguists since the 1970s (T. Osada 2003).
The end of prehistory – i.e. the Kofun period, the third to the sixth
centuries AD – saw the unification of small states that ultimately gave rise
to the Imperial Court. (Kofun means ‘burial mounds’, such mounds being
constructed for people of the ruling classes.) Two significant cultural
events occurred at this time: the Chinese writing system was introduced in
the late fourth and early fifth centuries (Section 4.1), and Buddhism was
introduced in 538 (or 552).
1.2.2 Old Japanese (592–794 AD)
The years from 592 to 794 are referred to as the Asuka-Nara period,
following the locations of the imperial palace. Until then, Japan was
mentioned only sporadically in inscriptions and in Chinese historical
documents. However, it was during this period that the recording of the
Japanese language, referred to as OLD JAPANESE, commenced. The
earliest recorded documents are Kojiki (‘Records of Ancient Matters’)
(712), Fudoki (‘Regional Gazetteers’) (713), Nihonshoki (‘Chronicles of
Japan’) (720), and Man’yōshū (‘Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves’)
(672–771).
The syllabic structure of Old Japanese is very simple, each syllable
consisting of a lone vowel or a consonant followed by a vowel, as shown
in Table 1.1.6 The voiced consonants /b, d, z, r, g/ do not occur word
initially, and syllables consisting solely of a vowel occur only word-
initially; that is, a succession of vowels is prohibited within a word, with
very few exceptions (Hashimoto 1938; Tsukishima 1988: 189–90).
(Slashes surrounding letters indicate that the sound itself, rather than the
letter, is being discussed.)

27
Table 1.1 Modern and Old Japanese syllables.7
Modern Japanese Old Japanese

a i u e o a i u e o

ka ki ku ke ko ka kiα ku keα koα

kiβ keβ koβ

ga gi gu ge go ga giα gu geα goα

giβ geβ goβ

sa shi su se so tsa tsi tsu tse tsoα

tsoβ

za ji zu/dzu ze zo za ʒi8 zu ʒe zoα

zoβ

ta chi tsu te to ta ti tu te toα

toβ

da ji zu/dzu de do da di du de doα
doβ

na ni nu ne no na ni nu ne noα
noβ

ha hi fu9 he ho pa piα pu peα po

piβ peβ

ba bi bu be bo ba biα bu beα bo
biβ beβ

ma mi mu me mo ma miα mu meα moα

miβ meβ moβ

ya yu yo ya yu ye yoα

28
 yoβ

ra ri ru re ro ra ri ru re roα
roβ

wa wa wi we wo

The most controversial issue regarding Old Japanese is that, unlike the
MODERN JAPANESE five-vowel system (Section 3.1), there appears to
have been more vowels, with puzzling distributions: some vowels were
consistently recorded with two distinct sets of Chinese characters, but only
in combinations with certain consonants. These vowels are designated as α
and β in Table 1.1.10 (Syllables that differ from Modern Japanese are
shaded.)
A possible explanation for this peculiar distribution postulates eight
vowels (e.g. Ono 1957), as demonstrated in the /k/ line in Table 1.1. Such
being the case, why did the eight vowels occur only with some consonants
but not with others? Furthermore, what sound values did the α–β
distinctions represent? Hattori (1976: 4) proposes a six-vowel hypothesis
in which kiα corresponds to /kyi/, kiβ to /ki/, keα to /kye/, keβ to /ke/, koα to
/ko/, and koβ to the central rounded vowel /ɵ/, as shown in Figure 1.1.
However, as yet there is no consensus among Old Japanese specialists.

Figure 1.1. Hattori’s analysis.

The Old Japanese consonant corresponding to the modern /s/ was likely
/ts/ or /ch/ (Arisaka 1957), although only /ts/ is listed in Table 1.1.11 The
consonant corresponding to modern /h/ was /p/ (Ueda 1898), which
changed during the Nara period to /f/ [ɸ] (Komatsu 1981: 249). The
voiced consonants were likely to be preceded by a nasal sound (a
phenomenon called PRENASALIZATION); that is, /b/ was pronounced as
/mb/, /d/ as /nd/, and /g/ as /ŋg/ (Hashimoto 1980).

29
1.2.3 Late Old Japanese (794–1192)
In 794, the capital was relocated from Nara to Kyōto. The period until
1192 is referred to as Heian, and the language then spoken as LATE OLD
JAPANESE. The α–β distinction of the vowels disappeared early in this
period,12 resulting in the modern five-vowel system. Late Old Japanese
also witnessed the following sound changes (Tsukimoto 1988: 79–81):
(4) a. /e/ and /ye/ > /ye/: enoki ‘Japanese hackberry’ > yenoki; yeda ‘tree
branch’ (unchanged) (The symbol “>” is read as “merged” or
“changed to.”)
b. /o/ and /wo/ > /wo/: oki ‘offing’ > woki; woka ‘hill’ (unchanged)
c. /i/ and /wi/ > /i/: e.g. iru ‘to need’ (unchanged); wiru ‘to exist’ > iru
d.Influenced by the Chinese sound system, the voiced consonants /b,
d, z, r, g/ began to appear word initially.
e. /f/ [ɸ] in word medial position became /w/: /fa, fi, fu, fe, fo/ > /wa,
wi, u, we, wo/, e.g. fafa (modern haha) ‘mother’ > fawa; kafu ‘to
buy’ > kawu (= kau).
Today, the topic particle wa (see Chapter 8) is still written as は ha,
reflecting this sound change. The consonant corresponding to today’s /s/,
which was /ts/ or /ch/ in Old Japanese, became /s/ or /sh/ by the end of the
Late Old Japanese period (Arisaka 1957: 146).
In addition, a group of sound changes took place, referred to in Japanese
linguistics as ONBIN ‘euphony’. It can be explained with examples from
the verb TE-FORM (Chapter 6). Originally, the conjunctive particle te was
added to the verb adverbial form; however, when the adverbial form ended
in /ki/ or /gi/, the /ki + te/ and /gi + te/ sequences respectively became /ite/
and /ide/ as in (5a).
(5) a. aruki ‘walk’ + te > aruite; oyogi ‘swim’ + te > oyoide

When the final syllable of the adverbial form was /bi/ (= /mbi/), /ni/, or
/mi/, the sequence with te became /nde/ as in (5b). By this process, the
MORAIC NASAL (Section 3.3) was born. (The moraic nasal existed in Old
Japanese only in words borrowed from Chinese.)
b. tobi ‘fly’ + te > tonde; sini ‘die’ + te > sinde; yomi ‘read’ + te > yonde
When the final syllable of the adverbial form was /ti/, /fi/, or /ri/, the
sequence with te became /tte/ as in (5c).
c. mati ‘wait’ + te > matte; ifi ‘say’ + te > itte; ari ‘exist’ + te > atte

30
 Also included in onbin is the change of some occurrences of /ku, gu, fi,
bi, mi/ to /u/. This change created a long vowel, e.g. nikuku ‘feeling
disgusted’ > nikuu (= nikū).
d.kanasiku ‘being sad’ > kanasiu; waragutu ‘straw boots’ > waraudu;
otofito ‘younger brother’ > otouto; yobi ‘call’ + te > youde; kamigamisii
‘divine’ > kaugausii
Another noteworthy event in Late Old Japanese is the invention of
KANA SYLLABARIES, which enabled Japanese people to record their
language with their own script, rather than in the cumbersome manner
necessary for using the Chinese writing system (Chapter 4). This invention
facilitated the creation of great literature, e.g. Kokin wakashū (‘Collected
Japanese Poems of Ancient and Modern Times’) (905), Tosa nikki (‘Tosa
Diary’) (circa 935), Ise monogatari (‘The Tales of Ise’) (the late tenth
century), Makura no sōshi (‘The Pillow Book’) (c. 1000), Genji
monogatari (‘The Tale of Genji’) (c. 1000). The compilation of
dictionaries also commenced in this period, e.g. Tenrei banshō meigi (a
dictionary of Chinese characters) (c. 830), Ruiju myōgishō (a classified
dictionary of Chinese characters) (the late eleventh century).
1.2.4 Middle Japanese (1192–1603)
In 1192, MINAMOTO no Yoritomo became the first shōgun ‘a commander
of a force’ and established his government in Kamakura in Kanagawa
prefecture, shifting political power from the Imperial Court to the warrior
class and bringing about feudalism. In 1338, ASHIKAGA Takauji gained
power and moved the capital to Muromachi in Kyōto prefecture. The
Muromachi period ended in 1573 when the fifteenth shōgun was expelled
by the warlord ODA Nobunaga. From 1573 to 1603 is known as the
Azuchi-Momoyama period (a.k.a. the Sengoku ‘Warring States’ period)
because Nobunaga built his castle in Azuchi in Shiga prefecture, and his
successor TOYOTOMI Hideyoshi built his in Momoyama in Kyōto
prefecture.
Some of the most significant changes in the language occur in MIDDLE
JAPANESE, beginning with the disappearance of many Old Japanese
characteristics and the development of Modern Japanese design features.13
For example, as shown in Table 1.1, the /t/ and /d/ lines in Old Japanese
were /ta, ti, tu, te, to/ and /da, di, du, de, do/, which evolved into the
modern pronunciation of /ta, chi [tʃi], tsu, te, to/ and /da, ji [dʒi], dzu, de,
do/ (Nakamoto 1981: 69). However, the /s/ line in this period was still /sa,
shi [ʃi], su, she [ʃe], so/, differing from Modern Japanese (see Table 1.2).

31
 Table 1.2 Modern and Middle Japanese syllables.
Modern Japanese Middle Japanese

a i u e o a i u

ka ki ku ke ko ka ki ku ke ko

ga gi gu ge go ga gi gu ge go

sa shi Su se so sa shi su she so

[ʃi] [ʃi] [ʃe]

za ji zu/dzu ze zo za ʒi zu ʒe zo
[dʒi]

ta chi tsu te to ta chi tsu te to

[tʃi] [tʃi]

da ji zu/dzu de do da ji dzu de do
[dʒi] [dʒi]

na ni nu ne no na ni nu ne no

ha hi fu he ho fa fi fu fe fo
[ɸu] [ɸu] [ɸu] [ɸu] [ɸe] [ɸo]

ba bi bu be bo ba bi bu be bo

ma mi mu me mo ma mi mu me mo

ya yu yo ya yu ye yo

ra ri ru re ro ra ri ru re ro

wa wa we wo

n n

As discussed earlier, vowel sequences were prohibited in Old Japanese,

but as a result of sound changes in Late Old Japanese such sequences

32
became widespread, and many evolved into long vowels.
(6) a. /au/ > / /:14 kyau ‘capital’ > ky ; (hayaku ‘early’ >) hayau > hay

b. /ou/ > /ō/: (kinofu ‘yesterday’ >) kinou > kinō; sou ‘monk’ > sō
c. /iu/ > /yū/: (ifu ‘say’ >) iu > yū; tiu ‘middle’ > tyū (= chū)
d./eu/ > /yō/: (kefu ‘today’ >) keu > kyō; teurou ‘ridicule’ > tyōrō (=
chōrō)
e. /ei/ > /ē/15

In the verb conjugation paradigm, the conclusive form (used today for
listing dictionary entries) and the attributive form (used to modify nouns)
have merged. (See Chapter 6 for explanations of these verb forms.) The
pre-merge state is illustrated in (7a) and (7b). In (7a), the verb is in the
conclusive form, and in (7b), in the attributive form, modifying the noun
namida ‘tear’.
(7) a.
Namida otsu. [conclusive form]

tear drop

‘Tear drops.’
b.
otsuru namida [attributive form]

drop tear

‘dropping tears’

However, after the merger, this distinction was lost, and the old
attributive form began to function as the new conclusive form, as in (7c).
c.
Namida otsuru [old attributive form; new conclusive form]

tear drop

‘Tear drops.’

Another significant change in Middle Japanese involves the emergence

of case particles (see Chapter 7), especially ga for designating the subject
of a main clause.16 The main-clause subject in Old Japanese was not

33
explicitly marked as shown in (8a), the opening sentence of Ise
monogatari (‘The Tales of Ise’) (the late tenth century). The subject, by
contrast, is marked by ga in (8b), a sentence from Heike monogatari (‘The
Tale of the Heike’) (c. 1200), although occurrences of ga as the subject
marker were still scarce at the time.17
(8) a.
Mukashi, otoko ari keri.

long.ago man there.was

‘Once upon a time, there was a man.’

b.
Kyau yori Nobutoshi ga maitte saburafu.

capital from NOM came

‘Nobutoshi has come from the Capital.’

The emergence of ga is a strong indicator that Japanese people had

begun to highlight sentence structure elements, and in particular to develop
the notion of subject (Yamaguchi 1988: 90).
The Japanese first encountered Europeans in 1543 when Portuguese
traders were shipwrecked off the Tanegashima island in Kagoshima
prefecture in Kyūshū. In 1549, Jesuits settled in Kyūshū and began
missionary work that included descriptions of the Japanese language in the
Roman alphabet, which constitutes valuable data for reconstructing Middle
Japanese. For example, Vocabvlario da Lingoa de Iapam (‘Japanese–
Portuguese dictionary’), compiled in 1603–04, lists approximately 32,800
Japanese words and explains in Portuguese their pronunciation, meanings,
and usage illustrated by examples (Kokugogakkai 1980: 673).
1.2.5 Early Modern Japanese (1603–1867)
In 1603, TOKUGAWA Ieyasu relocated the capital to Edo, present-day
Tōkyō. Thus commenced an era that lasted until 1867, known as the Edo
period, which saw the emergence of EARLY MODERN JAPANESE. People
came to Edo from all over Japan, and through contact they contributed to
significant language change, assimilating and amalgamating traits from
eastern and western dialects.18
During this period, the following sound changes took place (Nomura

34
1988), and the resulting sound system became virtually identical to that of
Modern Japanese.
(9) a. /ye/ > /e/; /wo/ > /o/
b. / / > /ō/
c. /she/ [ʃe] > /se/; /ʒe/ > /ze/
d. /f/ [ɸ] > /h/,19 except before /u/
e. The distinction between /ʒi/ and /ji/ [dʒi] was lost (> /ji/), as well as
between /zu/ and /dzu/20
f. Prenasalization, /mb, nd, ŋg/, gradually disappeared.

Until the Edo period, writing and reading had been associated almost
exclusively with the ruling aristocrat and warrior (samurai) classes and
Buddhist priests, but they became widespread among commoners mainly
because of the launching of terakoya (privately run elementary schools)
and the invention of wood-block printing. This rising literacy rate was
instrumental in developing stories for commoners’ entertainment. The
NARRATIVE parts (i.e. retelling normally in chronological order of what
happened) of these stories were written in Middle Japanese while
conversation was recorded faithfully in Early Modern Japanese, which is
virtually identical to Modern Japanese. For example, the utterances in (10)
are indistinguishable from today’s speech. (10a) is from Kinkin-sensei eiga
no yume (‘Master Flashgold’s Splendiferous Dream’) (1775) spoken by a
waitress at an eatery establishment; (10b) is from Ukiyoburo (‘Floating-
World Bathhouse’) (1809–13) spoken by a woman in her thirties.21
(10) a.
Moshi moshi, mochi ga dekimashita.

hello rice.cake NOM has.been.ready

‘Excuse me, (your) rice cake (dish) is ready.’

b.
Hai, mō setake bakari nobimashite, otonashiku gozaimasen

yes now height only grow.and obedient is.not

‘Yes, (she [her daughter]) is now tall and no longer obedient.’

In the 1630s, the Tokugawa government prohibited all contact with

foreign nations other than China, Korea, the Netherlands, and Ryukyus

35
(present day Okinawa) because foreign influences were considered a
source of political instability. This seclusion policy lasted until 1854, when
the Treaty of Peace and Amity with the United States was ratified. The
increasing foreign pressure that followed terminated the already
languishing Tokugawa regime in 1867, and political power was restored to
the emperor in 1868 – the inception of the Meiji period (the Meiji
Restoration).
1.2.6 Modern Japanese (1867 to present)
Japan opened its doors in the midst of the predatory European colonial
period and witnessed many Asian countries having been colonized. In
order to preserve independence, the most pressing matters for the Meiji
government were industrialization of the country and strengthening the
military as rapidly as possible. People from all over Japan were recruited
to work for factories, the military, and the government, which brought
about communication problems because many, possibly most, of those
recruits spoke mutually unintelligible dialects. Intellectuals, therefore,
frequently had to communicate verbally via the written form of Japanese,
which had been standardized since early periods but diverged significantly
from their vernaculars (Okamoto 2009).
A movement to establish the hyōjungo ‘standard Japanese’ commenced
not only to foster communication but also to awaken nationalism.22
However, due to the presence of a large number of regional dialects, it was
difficult to achieve a consensus that would serve as the basis of
standardization. Eventually, following the proposal by Ueda (1895), it was
decided that hyōjungo would be a refined variation of the dialect spoken
by intellectual Tokyoites.
The Meiji government aggressively enforced use of the standard as part
of the newly established compulsory education, whereby dialects were
viewed as a social evil. This biased view made many dialect speakers feel
inferior (Shibata 1958: 90–139). Nevertheless, most people did not
actually have opportunities to hear how intellectual Tokyoites spoke, so
hyōjungo was considered by them as a kind of written language detached
from daily life, its use enforced only in schools. However, 1925 brought
the beginning of national radio broadcasting, and announcers were trained
to speak only in hyōjungo, thus accelerating the spread of hyōjungo as a
spoken language.
After World War II, the term kyōtsūgo, ‘common Japanese’, gained
popularity in order to remedy the negative impact of the authoritarian

36
enforcement of hyōjungo by the government. One way to differentiate the
two is to remember that while hyōjungo is an idealized language,
kyōtsūgo is a real language for use in communication across dialectal
boundaries. Today, the term hyōjungo is rarely used in mass
communication when the speaker’s intent is to be politically correct.
Another significant linguistic event in the Meiji period is the GENBUN-
ITCHI MOVEMENT (the UNIFICATION OF SPEECH AND WRITING) to
vernacularize the written language. Reformers were convinced that the
written language hindered literacy, education, and modernization due to
enormous discrepancies between writing and common speech. From the
mid-1880s, novelists who wanted to write in the vernacular joined this
campaign. FUTABATEI Shimei’s novel Ukigumo [‘The Drifting Clouds’]
(1887) is generally credited as the first successful use of a vernacular style
in written Japanese. It opens as follows:
(11)
Chihayaburu kaminazuki mo mohaya futsuka no nagori to
natta

[epithet] October also already two.days GEN left

28-nichi no gogo 3-ji goro ni, Kandamitsuke no

28th.day GEN P.M. 3- about at GEN

o’clock

yori, towataru ari, chiru kumo no ko to

from march ant disperse spider GEN child QUOT

zoyozoyo wakiidete kuru no wa, izuremo otogai o

streaming spring.out NMLZ23 TOP all beard ACC

ki ni shitamau katagata.

be.concerned people

‘(It was) about 3 o’clock on October 28th, when only two days
remained until the end of the month. What sprang out, like marching
ants or dispersing baby spiders from Kandamitsuke [a central district

37
 in Tokyo], were all gentlemen who were obsessed by the appearance
of their beards.’24
Although this passage partially manifests genuine colloquialism, the
epithet cliché chihayaburu to decorate the word kami ‘god’ as in
kaminazuki (literally, ‘the month when gods are absent; the tenth month of
the lunar calendar’, an archetypically old-fashioned rhetorical technique
called makura-kotoba ‘pillow word’) reveals Futabatei’s dilemma in
choosing between a conventional style that is elegant yet stale and a vivid
but still unconventional style which might sound frivolous.
The genbun-itchi movement advanced rapidly. Compare (11) with (12),
a passage from KUNIKIDA Doppo’s Musashino published in 1898, which
exemplifies no archaic features:
(12)
Ganrai nihonjin wa kore made nara no tagui

originally Japanese TOP this until oak GEN kind

rakuyō-rin no bi o amari shiranakatta yō

aru

deciduous- GEN beauty ACC not.much did.not.know it.is.likely

forest

Hayashi to ie ba omo ni matsu- nomi ga nihon

bayashi

forest speaking.of mainly pine- only NOM Japan

forest

bungaku-bijutsu no ue ni mitomerarete ite, uta ni mo

literature-art GEN on is.recognized poetry in also

nara- no oku de shigure o kiku to iu

bayashi

oak- GEN interior in gentle.rain ACC listen.to QUOT

forest

38
 koto wa miataranai.

event NEG-SCP can.not.be.found

‘It seems that the Japanese, historically and even today, are unable to
appreciate the beauty of deciduous forests like those with oak trees.
When forests are mentioned in Japanese art and literature, pine trees
are almost always the sole focus of attention. We cannot find in
poetry any passages like listening to the gentle rain deep in an oak
forest.’
1 The Statistics Bureau of Japan:
www.stat.go.jp/data/nenkan/zuhyou/y0201b00.xls.
2 The SIL Ethnologue: www.ethnologue.com/statistics/size.
3 The Agency for Cultural Affairs:
www.bunka.go.jp/kokugo_nihongo/jittaichousa/h23/gaikoku_1.html.
4 The Japan Foundation:
www.jpf.go.jp/j/japanese/survey/result/dl/survey_2009/2009-01.pdf.
5 In addition to the Gregorian calendar, Japan uses a year designation
system based on the reigns of emperors: Meiji 1 = 1868, Taishō 1 = 1912,
Shōwa 1 = 1926, Heisei 1 = 1989.
6 As a means of pronouncing words loaned from Chinese, Old Japanese
likely included such complex syllables as /kya, gya, kwa, gwa/; however,
to simplify the exposition, they are not discussed in this chapter.
7 The sound values of some symbols appearing in Table 1.1 in the
International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) are: /u/ [u], /shi/ [ɕi/ʃi], /ji/ [dʒi],
/chi/ [tʃi], /hi/ [çi], /fu/ [ɸu], /y/ [j], and /r/ [ɾ]. See Section 3.1 for further
explanation.
8 “ʒ” represents the second consonant in the word vision.
9 The symbol “f” represents the friction sound created when blowing out a
candle, i.e. [ɸ] in the IPA. It is different from English /f/, which involves
the upper teeth.
10 The α–β distinction of /mo/ disappeared very early, so it is recorded
only in Kojiki and not in subsequent documents of this period.
11 This interpretation is still controversial. Murayama (1988: 18–19), for
example, argues that both /ts/ and /s/ existed in the fifth century, and that
/ts/ gradually merged into /s/ between the fifth and eighth centuries.
12 The distinction between ko –ko and go –go was maintained until
α β α β

39
circa 900 (Tsukimoto 1988: 78).
13 An important historical change not included in this chapter is the
disappearance of the literary phenomenon of kakari–musubi ‘opening–
ending’, a rhetorical convention. See Shibatani (1990: 334–35).
14 “ ” represents the long “open-o” as in English all.
15 Ruiju myōgishō, written in Late Old Japanese, lists two pronunciations
for 弟 ‘brother’, tei and tē, so the inception of the long /e/ is likely in the
eleventh century.
16 Notwithstanding the establishment of case particles, case marking is
not obligatory in Japanese main clauses.
17 Most occurrences of ga in Middle Japanese functioned as a marker of
possession, e.g. Suefusa ga ko ‘Suefusa’s child’, which corresponds to
Suefusa no ko in Modern Japanese.
18 In 1843, Edo’s population was approximately one million (Kamei et al.
2007: 13).
19 Although it is written as /hi/, the consonant before /i/ is more fronted in
the mouth, [çi] (see Section 3.1).
20 As a native Tōkyō dialect speaker, I tend to pronounce /ji/ [dʒi] and
/dzu/ phrase initially, and /zu/ phrase medially. I rarely use /ʒi/.
21 Utterances of the warrior class depicted in fictions sound more like
Middle Japanese and differ significantly from those of commoners.
22 The term hyōjungo was coined by OKAKURA Yoshisaburo (a younger
brother of OKAKURA Tenshin, the author of The Book of Tea) in 1890 as a
translational equivalent of standard language.
23 NMLZ = nominalizer, see Section 15.1.
24 In the solar calendar, October has thirty-one days, but in a lunar
calendar, days vary. In this case, October apparently had only thirty days.

40
 2 Dialects
2.1 Introduction
The Japanese language is composed of numerous regional dialects, many
of which are mutually unintelligible. It is not surprising, then, that
DIALECTOLOGY (the study of dialects) has long been very popular in
Japanese linguistics.1 Regional dialects are, however, rapidly fading away,
due mainly to the influence of mass communication, which routinely
utilizes kyōtsūgo ‘common Japanese’ (Subsection 1.2.6). As of the mid-
twentieth century, unique dialectal forms and traits were most conspicuous
only in the Okinawa, Kyūshū, and Tōhoku regions (Sanada 2002: 15).
Dialects are valuable not only to appreciate the diversity of the
contemporary Japanese language, but also to probe its historical
development (see Section 1.2). Many specialists agree that peripheral
(outlying/remote) areas tend to retain older forms. That is, dialectal
variations – especially those heard in Okinawa, Kyūshū, and Tōhoku –
are likely to be remnants of older forms once spoken in culturally central
regions as well.
A methodological tradition in Japanese dialectology is to compare the
various dialects in which the folktale Momotarō ‘A Peach Boy’ is recited.2
The opening passage in common Japanese is provided in (1). This passage,
spoken in the Fukushima, Tōkyō, Ōsaka, and Kagoshima dialects, is
available at the book’s website
(http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php).

(1)
Mukashi mukashi aru tokoro ni ojīsan

long.ago certain place in old.man

41
 arimashita.3 Aru hi ojīsan wa yama

there.were certain day old.man TOP mountain

obāsan wa kawa e sentaku ni

old.woman TOP river to washing for

‘Once upon a time there lived [in a certain place] an old man and an old woman.
went into the mountains to cut firewood, while the old woman went to the river to wa
2.2 Okinawan dialects
The primary division among Japanese dialects is drawn between the
islands of Okinawa and mainland Japan. In (2), Momotarō appears in the
dialect of Naha, the capital city of Okinawa prefecture (Map 2.1).
(2)
Mukashi mukashi aru tukurun kai tanmē tu
yō

long.ago certain place in old.man and

mensēbītan. Aru fi tanmē ya yaman kai

there.were certain day old.man TOP mountain to

ga, hanshī ya kāran kai arēmon ga

shī

for old.woman TOP river to washing for

42
Map 2.1. Okinawa.
This dialect, like most Okinawan dialects, has only three short vowels
/a, i, u/, as compared to five in Tōkyō. However, it has five long vowels: /
ā, ī, ū, ē, ō/, just as the Tōkyō dialect does. The short /e/ and /o/ in
Tōkyō correspond respectively to /i/ and /u/ heard in Naha as shown in
(3a–3b).
(3)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
akegata akigata ‘dawn’

kane kani ‘bell’

b.
kotoba kutuba ‘language’

43
 momo mumu ‘peach’

The vowel sequence /ao/ in Tōkyō is pronounced as /ō/ in Naha as in

(4a), and /ai, ae/ correspond to /ē/ as in (4b–4c).
(4)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
aoba ōba ‘green leaves’

sao sō ‘a pole’
b.
bai bē ‘twice as much’

mainichi mēnichi ‘everyday’

c.
kaeru kēru ‘go home’

kangae kangē ‘a thought’

The /t/ and /d/ lines of the syllable inventory of the Naha dialect retain
older pronunciations /ta, ti, tu, te, to, da, di, du, de, do/ (see Table 1.1),
whereas those in the modern Tōkyō dialect are /ta, chi, tsu, te, to, da, ji,
zu, de, do/ due to historical sound changes.
(5)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
tegami tigami ‘letter’

asatte asati ‘day after tomorrow’

b.
dengon dingun ‘message’

ude udi ‘arm’

c.
tokoro tukuru ‘place’

oto utu ‘sound’

d.
kado kadu ‘corner’

44
 midori miduri ‘green’

Nevertheless, /chi/ also exists in the Naha dialect as shown in (6).

(6)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
chi chī ‘blood’
b.
chijimu chijimun ‘to shrink’

This phenomenon can be accounted for by positing that the rule /ti/ >
/chi/ applied first, followed by /te/ > /ti/ (Shibatani 1990: 192). That is,
applying each rule only once, /ti/ first changes to /chi/, and then /te/
changes to /ti/, which is no longer susceptible to the first rule.
The syllables /ki, gi, kya, kyu, kyō/ in the Tōkyō dialect correspond
respectively to /chi, ji, cha, chu, chō/ in many, but not necessarily all,
words in Naha.
(7)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
kinō chinū ‘yesterday’
b.
Okinawa Uchinā
but
c.
kizu kiji ‘a cut’
d.
sekiyu shikiyu ‘petroleum’

(8) a.
ginmi jinmi ‘examination’
b.
chigiri chijiri ‘vow’
but
c.
geta gita ‘wooden clogs’
d.
kage kagi ‘shadow’

45
(9) a.
okyaku uchaku ‘guest’
but
b.
Kyan a traditional Okinawan family name

(10) a.
kyūbyō chūbyō ‘sudden illness’
b.
kyūji chūji ‘a waiter’

(11) a.
kyō chō ‘today’
b.
Kyōto Chōtu
but
c.
Amamikyo the name of a goddess

The Naha dialect also exhibits the old pronunciation of /f/ [ɸ] for the
present-day /h/ (Subsection 1.2.5) as shown in aru fi ‘a certain day’ in (2).
Other examples include the following:
(12)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
haha fafa ‘mother’
b.
higashi figashi ‘east’
c.
fuku fuku ‘good fortune’
d.
haibun fēbun ‘allotment’
e.
hae fē ‘a fly’

When surrounded by vowels, /w/ drops from words:

(13)
Tōkyō Naha
a.
kawakami kākan ‘upper parts of a river’

46
 b.
Okinawa Uchinā

Furthermore, to confirm the claim that peripheral regions tend to retain

older forms, the dialect of Nakijin (a village located in a northern part of
the Okinawa main island) retains the old /p/, which changed in other
dialects to /f/ [ɸ] during the Old Japanese period and eventually to /h/ as
explained in Chapter 1.
(14)
Tōkyō Nakijin
a.
hana pana ‘flower’
b.
hi pī ‘day’
c.
fune puni ‘boat’
d.
hae pē ‘fly (insect)’
e.
hoshi pushī ‘star’

2.3 Mainland dialects

Numerous dialect divisions (groupings) have been proposed, among which
four major geographical regions are widely recognized (adapted from Tojo
1953: 27):
(15) a. Eastern (Hokkaidō, Tōhoku, Kantō)
b. Central (Chūbu, Hokuriku)4
c. Western (Kinki, Chūgoku, Unpaku, Shikoku)5
d. Kyūshū
Dialect divisions are customarily determined according to the (i) sound
system; (ii) vocabulary; (iii) verb/adjective conjugation; and (iv) pitch
accent patterns. Different methods routinely lead to different dialect
partitioning. In Map 2.2, regions are labeled in roman; and subregions,
prefectures, and cities in italics.

47
Map 2.2. The regions of Japan.
2.3.1 Divisions by sound system
Regarding variations in sound systems, speakers residing in most areas of
Tōhoku and Unpaku in Chūgoku as well as some areas of Hokkaidō and
Hokuriku do not distinguish /i/ and /u/, pronouncing both as /ï/ (the NEAR-
HIGH CENTRAL UNROUNDED VOWEL) (Kato 2009: 79).6 The /t/ line in
the syllable chart (Tables 1.1 and 1.2), whose consonants vary according to
the following vowel in the Tōkyō dialect (/ta, chi, tsu, te, to/) is
pronounced as /ta, tsï, tsï, te, to/. Consequently, the words chichi ‘father’,
chitsu(jo) ‘order’, tsuchi ‘soil’, and tsutsu ‘a cylinder’ are all pronounced
identically as [tsïtsï].7
Furthermore, in these regions, voiceless consonants tend to be voiced
when occurring phrase-medially (i.e. flanked by voiced sounds), and
voiced stops tend to be prenasalized, i.e. /mb, nd, ŋg/.8 Until several

48
decades ago, these dialects were pejoratively called zūzūben ‘zū-zū
dialect’. Eventually, Japanese people gained insight into the fact that
regional dialects are indeed rich, vital parts of the Japanese language.
Momotarō in (16) is in the dialect spoken in Goshogawara City in Aomori
prefecture (derived from Sugito 1998).
(16)
Mugasï mugasï aru dogo nï zïsama

long.ago certain place in old.man

atte ïda do. Zïsama wa yama sa

there.were QUOT old.man TOP mountain to

nï basama wa kawa sa araimono

for old.woman TOP river to washing

Another dialect that exhibits a unique sound system is spoken in Nagoya

in Aichi prefecture. There, /ai/ and /ae/ are pronounced as [ ] or [æə],
/oi/ as [ ], and /ui/ as [ ],9,10 The following examples are derived from
Takeuchi (1982: 86–89) and Keshikawa (1983: 216–18).
(17)
Tōkyō Nagoya
a.
Akai [ak ] ‘red’
b.
Hairu [h ɾu] ‘to enter’
c.
kaeru [k ɾu] ‘to go home’
d.
Omae [om ] ‘you’
e.
Koi [k ] ‘love’

f.
Omoi [om ] ‘heavy’

g.
Sui [s ] ‘stylishness’

49
 h. samui [sam ] ‘cold’

In the Kōchi dialect of Shikoku island, distinctions are retained between

/ʒi/ and /ji/ [dʒi] as well as between /zu/ and /dzu/ (Onishi 1993: 29). Both
of these disappeared in most dialects during the Early Modern Japanese
period (see Subsection 1.2.5).
(18)
Tōkyō Kōchi
a.
fuji [ɸudʒi] [ɸuʒi] ‘Mt. Fuji’
b.
fuji [ɸudʒi] [ɸudʒi] ‘wisteria’
c.
suzu [suzu] [suzu] ‘bell’
d.
mizu [mizu] [midzu] ‘water’

The Kagoshima dialect in southern Kyūshū exhibits another interesting

sound characteristic. In the word-final position, the syllables /ki, gi, ku, gu,
chi, ji, tsu, bi, bu, ru/ are all realized as a GLOTTAL STOP (Onishi 1993:
32), represented as a [ʔ] in the IPA, an abrupt termination of voicing by
closing the glottis (i.e. vocal cords). (English uses a glottal stop in an
interjection of dismay or alarm, uh-oh [ʔəʔoʊ].) Consequently, all of the
following words are pronounced as [kaʔ] in Kagoshima:11
(19) a.
kaki ‘persimmon’
b.
kagi ‘key’
c.
kaku ‘to write’
d.
kagu ‘to sniff’
e.
kachi ‘win’
f.
kaji ‘a fire’
g.
katsu ‘to win’

50
 h.
kabi ‘mold’
i.
kabu ‘a stock’
j.
karu ‘to cut’

The older form of /she, je/, corresponding to the present-day /se, ze/
(Subsection 1.2.4), are retained in most dialects in Tōhoku and Kyūshū
and many dialects in Hokuriku, Kinki, Chūgoku, and Shikoku (Tokugawa
1979: 174).
(20) a.
sensei shenshei ‘teacher’
b.
zenzen jenjen ‘(not) at all’

Most of those dialects also retain /kwa, gwa/, syllables originally

borrowed from Chinese in ancient times (Tokugawa 1979: 178).
(21) a.
kaji kwaji ‘a fire’
b.
gaikoku gwaikoku ‘foreign country’

Another older pronunciation /wo/ for /o/ is found in many areas of

Kyūshū and is also interspersed throughout Japan (Kibe 1999: 37).
(22) a.
ao awo ‘blue’
b.
shio shiwo ‘salt’

2.3.2 Divisions by vocabulary

Some dialects show amazing richness in vocabulary in certain conceptual
fields. For example, the Izumo dialect of the Unpaku region divides a day
into many periods as shown in (23) (Shibata 1958: 13–14). These fine
divisions are possible and meaningful in agricultural villages where
everyone follows a virtually identical daily schedule.12
(23) a.
yoake mae before dawn
b.

51
 yoake dawn
c.
asama about the time when breakfast is over
d.
asama no ochi until about 8 A.M.
e.
hiru mae approximately 11 A.M. to 12 noon
f.
chīhan jibon lunch time (noon)
g.
chīhan shigi noon to 1 P.M.
h.
kobashima jibon snack time (about 4 P.M.)
i.
akeochi before sundown
j.
fūkara noon to sundown
k.
akakura just before sundown
l.
hi no kure around sundown
m.
bange sundown to dinner
n.
yoi no kuchi right before dinner
o.
yōhan jibon dinner time
p.
ban after dinner
q.
yabun before sleep
r.
yonaka after falling asleep

For another example of vocabulary variation, a snail is called variously

as in (24) (derived from Yanagita 1930: appendix).

52
(24) a. namekuji northeastern Tōhoku, Hokuriku, many areas of
Kyūshū
b.
tuburi southeastern Tōhoku, Hokuriku, northern Kyūshū
c.
katatsumuri western Tōhoku, western Kantō, southeastern
Chūbu, southern Kinki, southwestern Shikoku
d.
maimai eastern Kantō, Hokuriku, western Chūbu, Chūgoku
e.
dendenmushi Kinki

From this distribution pattern, Yanagita has concluded that dendenmushi

is the newest form, found around the old cultural center of Kyōto, while
the oldest form, namekuji, is found in the areas farthest from this center.
Concerning this distribution, he hypothesizes that new forms are dispersed
gradually and in succession from the culturally central region into outlying
areas, so that the outmost regions preserve the oldest form while the
middle regions evidence, by succession, a word’s historical development,
an effect much like rippling.13 To investigate dialectal variations in
vocabulary, an enormous amount of data for many concepts (mostly
nouns) has been collected by Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyūjo (The National
Institute for Japanese Language and Linguistics).14
The selection of an existential verb for an animate subject (see Section
2.1) also varies from dialect to dialect with a dividing line loosely
matching the Itoigawa–Shizuoka Tectonic Line (ISTL), Japan’s major
tectonic fault, which runs from the city of Itoigawa in Nīgata prefecture to
Shizuoka city in Shizuoka prefecture (see Map 2.3). Most dialects east of
the ISTL use iru, whereas those located west of the line use oru with the
exception of Wakayama prefecture, which utilizes aru (Sato 1979: 10). In
the Tōkyō dialect, iru is the norm, although in polite speech (see Chapter
20), oru (orimasu) is also used. This variation came about because, as
spoken in the cultural center, the Edo (an old name for Tōkyō) dialect
incorporated many traits from the Kinki dialects.

53
Map 2.3. The Itoigawa–Shizuoka Tectonic Line.
Other examples to illustrate an east–west opposition around the ISTL
are provided below (Kobayashi 1999: 68–69):
(25)
East West
a.
kusuriyubi benisashiyubi/ ‘the third finger’

benitsukeyubi
b.
hiko himago ‘great-grandchild’
c.
shoppai karai ‘salty’
d.
kariru karu ‘to borrow’
e.
koke/kokera uroko ‘(fish’s) scale’
f.
nyūbai tsuyu/tsuiri ‘(the beginning of) the rainy season’

For some vocabulary, the east retained older forms, e.g. (25a–25b); in
others, the west retained older forms, e.g. (25c–25d); and in some cases
both forms emerged during the same period, e.g. (25e–f) (Kobayashi 1999:
69–70).
2.3.3 Divisions by verb/adjective conjugation

54
Negation is another parameter for dividing dialects: eastern dialects use
nai or nē (e.g. ikanai/ikanē ‘not go’); western dialects use n (e.g. ikan).
However, in central Kinki (falling to the west of the ISTL), the default
form of negation is hen or yahen (e.g. ikahen ‘not go’, tabeyahen ‘not eat’)
whereas n is also used but only for emphasis (Tsuzuku 1986: 121).
Negation of adjectives in Kinki is different from that in Tōkyō: takaku-nai
(Tōkyō) vs. takō-nai/takai koto nai/taka-nai (Kinki) (Onishi 1993: 27,
117).
The ISTL is also relevant to the division of the forms of the copula,
which is equivalent to the English verb be (see Subsection 5.2.2). In
general, eastern dialects use da (e.g. ame da ‘it’s raining’), whereas
western dialects use ja (e.g. ame ja). However, Aichi prefecture, located
just west of the ISTL, belongs to the eastern group in this respect.
Furthermore, Kinki and some parts of Hokuriku, Chūbu, Shikoku, and
Kyūshū employ ya (e.g. ame ya) rather than ja (Tsuzuku 1986: 142–43).
The imperative (command) form of ru-verbs (see Section 5.2.2) in the
east is mi-ro ‘look!’ while that in the west is mi-yo or mi-i.
The te-form of some verbs (see Subsection 1.2.3) developed differently
in east and west (Shibuya 1999: 88–89).
(26)
kafu [kaɸu] (kau in Modern Japanese) ‘to buy’

East kafi-te > kaf-te > kat-te

West kafi-te > kawi-te > kau-te > k -te > kō-te

2.3.4 Divisions by pitch accent patterns

In terms of pitch accent, Japanese dialects are commonly divided into four
groups, as shown in Map 2.4 (Hayata 1999: 29, 36–41). The concept of
pitch accent will be discussed in Section 3.5. Rudimentarily speaking,
most dialects of Japanese differentiate certain (but not all) word meanings
by modulation of vocal pitch from high to low or vice versa. For example,
(27) provides contrasts of the words ame ‘candy’ or ‘rain’ in the Tōkyō
and Ōsaka dialects.15
(27)
Tōkyō Ōsaka

HL rain

55
 HH candy

LF (fall tone from H to L) rain

LH candy

Map 2.4. Pitch–accent patterns.

The HL pattern exists in Ōsaka (e.g. hashi ‘bridge’, yama
‘mountain’),16 but not with ame. On the other hand, the HH pattern does
not exist in the Tōkyō dialect. The LH pattern does exist in Ōsaka (e.g.
sora ‘sky’, haru ‘spring’),17 but again, not with ame. The LF pattern is
totally foreign to Tōkyō dialect speakers.
The two-pattern type of accent is represented by the Kagoshima dialect,
in which the high-pitched accent falls either on the final syllable or the
syllable next to the final syllable (PENULTIMATE SYLLABLE) of phrases,
which is demonstrated in the book’s website
(http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php). Finally, in
accentless dialects, all accentual contrasts have been lost; that is, no two
words are differentiated solely by accent.
Retaining older accentual contrasts, Kinki dialects have more variations
than the Tōkyō type. Table 2.1, derived from Hattori (1951), illustrates

56
correspondences of pitch–accent patterns of two-syllable word groups
among Proto Japanese (PJ, a hypothetical, reconstructed language from
which attested variations of languages are believed to have evolved), Late
Old Japanese (LOJ), Middle Japanese (MJ),18 and the dialects of modern
Takamatsu in Kagawa Prefecture in Shikoku (Kyōto type), Kyōto, Tōkyō,
and Morioka in Iwate prefecture in Tōhoku (Tōkyō type). The first
column lists nouns that represent each word group, wa being the topic
marker (see Section 8.1), and mo being a particle to indicate ‘also’.
Table 2.1 Variations in pitch accent.
Noun Gloss PJ LOJ MJ Takamatsu Kyōto

ushi cow HH(H) HH(H) HH(H) HH(H) HH(H)

(wa)

ushi cow HH(L) HH(L) HH(L) HH(L) HH(L)

(mo)

ishi stone HF(L) HL(L) HL(L) HL(L) HL(L)

(wa)

ashi leg LH(L) ML(H) HH(H)

(wa)

aki autumn HL(L) LH(L) LH(L) LF(L) LH(L)

(wa)

iki breath LH(L) LL(F)

(mo)

iki breath LH(H) LH(H) LH(H) LL(H) LL(H)

(wa)

The LH(L) pattern in LOJ has two reflexes in the Takamatsu dialect:
LF(L) and LL(F). However, this split is unpredictable by mere
examination of the sound qualities of words. Therefore, Hattori claims, PJ
must have had two distinctive patterns for this group, but they were lost by
the time of LOJ.
This distribution pattern of pitch accent challenges the widely accepted
view that peripheral areas retain older forms (discussed earlier in this

57
chapter) because, in this instance, older traits are retained in culturally
central areas of Kinki.
1 Hino (1986: 10–38) provides a summary of major works in Japanese
dialectology.
2 Momotarō was born from a giant peach that was found floating down a
river by an old woman who went there to wash clothes. The woman and
her husband named this baby boy Momotarō and decided to raise him.
When grown up, Momotarō left his foster parents and went to a distant
island where he fought demons who tormented villagers. En route, he met
a dog, a monkey, and a pheasant, who vowed to help him in his quest if he
gave them some of the millet dumplings he was carrying.
3 Aru and iru ‘exit/be/stay/locate’ are EXISTENTIAL VERBS, and Japanese
language textbooks uniformly explain that aru is used with an inanimate
subject (something that is not alive and/or is unable to move by itself) and
iru with an animate one. This distinction is a recent phenomenon. While
aru has been a genuine existential verb throughout history, iru originally
meant ‘become motionless’, and contrasted with tatsu ‘start moving’
(Kinsui 1984). As the unique existential verb, aru was used for both
animate and inanimate subjects until late Middle Japanese. In the early
twentieth century, aru could still be used with an animate subject, as
shown in (1), but iru had become dominant in such cases.
4 When regional divisions are made for general purposes (vis-à-vis dialect
studies), Hokuriku is usually included in the Chūbu region.
5 Other than in dialect studies, the Unpaku area is rarely separated from
the Chūgoku region.
6 A video clip to demonstrate the pronunciation of /ï/ is available at the
book’s website
(http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php).
7 A video clip of the Kesen dialect to demonstrate the pronunciation of
these four words is available at the book’s website.
8 In Unpaku dialects, /t, k/ do not become /d, g/, and /g/ is not nasalized
(Onishi 1993: 28).
9 [æ] is the vowel occurring in cat; [ə] is the initial vowel in ago; [ø] is
the vowel in the French word bleu ‘blue’, which is similar to [e] but the
lips are rounded; [y] is the vowel in French tu ‘you’, similar to [i] also
accompanied by lip rounding.
10 A TV commercial from the 1970s that utilizes the Nagoya dialect is
available at the book’s website. The name of the window screen cleaner in

58
this commercial is Amilight [amiɾaito], which is pronounced as [amiɾ
to].
11 An excerpt from a radio talk show in the Kagoshima dialect broadcast
in 1978 is available at the book’s website
(http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php).
12 In many English-speaking nations, especially in farming and rural
communities, the mid-day meal is ‘dinner’, the evening meal is ‘supper’,
and there is no ‘lunch’.
13 Fujiwara (1983) provides other vocabulary items shared by northern
Tōhoku and southwestern Kyūshū to support Yanagita’s analysis.
14 www.ninjal.ac.jp/publication/catalogue/laj_map/
15 A video clip is available at the book’s website
(http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php).
16 Both hashi ‘bridge’ and yama ‘mountain’ are pronounced as LH in
Tōkyō.
17 Both sora ‘sky’ and haru ‘spring’ are pronounced as HL in Tōkyō.
18 The accentual patterns of Late Old Japanese are based on Ruiju
myōgishō (the late eleventh century); those of Middle Japanese are based
on Bumōki of 1687.

59
 3 Sound system
3.1 The syllable inventory
The Japanese language has a fairly simple sound system compared to
English. If we ignore the short vs. long vowel distinction (see Section 3.2),
Japanese consists of twenty-six distinct consonants and five vowels. There
are, however, dialectal variations; for example, the Yonaguni dialect in
Okinawa has only three vowels, while the Nagoya dialect has eight vowels
(Nakamoto 1981: 63). English has a much more complex sound system,
consisting of twenty-four consonants and twenty vowels, with some
dialectal variations (Ladefoged 1982: 24, 28). Consonants and vowels
combine to form syllables. Due to the large number of consonant–vowel
combinations, English speech sounds are usually not counted in syllabic
terms. By contrast, the number of combinatory possibilities in Japanese is
limited, and it is common practice to consider Japanese speech sounds as
an inventory of syllables.
Of the twenty-six Japanese consonants, fifteen are plain and eleven
PALATALIZED. A palatalized consonant is articulated together with the
tongue in high central position, like that in /i/. Consequently, the
distinction between plain and palatalized consonants does not exist before
/i/, e.g. /ki/ vs. /kyi/. The palatalized consonants occur with all other
vowels. However, combination with /e/ is restricted, appearing only in
borrowed foreign words (e.g. jetto ‘jet plane’) and EXPRESSIVE
VOCABULARY, e.g. che! ‘shoot!’ (interjection).
In Table 3.1, representations of the International Phonetic Alphabet
(IPA) are provided within square brackets.1 The syllables with limited
distribution are shaded. Each line in Table 3.1 is explained in the list
below.
Line 1: e.g. aki ‘autumn’, iki ‘breath’, uki ‘rainy season’, eki ‘train
station’, oki ‘offshore’. The dialects in the Kansai (Kyōto–Ōsaka)
area exhibit lip-rounding with /u/ (as in English), but the Tōkyō
dialect does not do so in normal speech. The lips are relaxed, neither
rounded nor split as with /i/. This unrounded /u/ is represented as [ɯ]
in the IPA.
Line 2: The distribution of /p/ is unique in Japanese today: it occurs
word-initially only in expressive vocabulary or foreign loan words,
e.g. pai ‘pie’, piripiri ‘a description of a tingling sensation’, punpun ‘a
description of odor’, pen ‘pen’, pon ‘a popping sound’. Word-

60
medially, /p/ occurs in regular vocabulary, e.g. sanpo ‘a stroll’, ippiki
‘one animal’, ippun ‘one minute’, ippei ‘one soldier’, ippo ‘one step’.
This irregular distribution is due to historical change. In Old Japanese
(Subsection 1.2.2), /p/ existed word-initially (Ueda 1898). By the
eighth century, it had changed to the consonant that occurs in today’s
/fu/, [ɸ]. Later, in the seventeenth century, this consonant further
changed to /h/ (Komatsu 1981: 249). Most instances of word-initial /h/
today were originally pronounced as /p/. For example, paru ‘spring’
first changed to faru, and then to today’s haru pronunciation.
Examples of the palatalized /p/ are: roppyaku ‘six hundred’, pyū ‘the
sound of wind (onomatopoeia)’, ippyō ‘one vote’.
Lines 2, 4, 6: Say the English words pin [pʰɪn], tin [tʰɪn] and kin
[kʰɪn]. You hear a puffing sound when the consonants are released
into the following vowel. This puffing sound is called ASPIRATION,
and it is represented as [ʰ] in the IPA. The Japanese /p/, /t/, and /k/ in
word-initial position are accompanied by aspiration, but it is much
less noticeable than that heard in English.
Line 3: While /p/ underwent changes over time, its voiced counterpart
/b/ remained intact. Examples are: bai ‘twice as many’, bi ‘beauty’,
bun ‘a sentence’, benri ‘convenient’, bō ‘a stick’, byakuya ‘a night
under the midnight sun’, byūsetsu ‘fallacy’, byōki ‘disease’.
Line 4: e.g. taki ‘waterfall’, chiki ‘acquaintance’, tsuki ‘moon’, teki
‘enemy’, toki ‘time’, cha ‘tea’, chū ‘middle’, chesu ‘chess’, chō
‘super’. The combination /t/ + /i/ does not sound like tea [ti], but,
rather, like the first part of cheese [tʃiz]. However, [ti] occurs in
foreign loan words, e.g. pātī ‘party’. The combination /t/ + /u/ does
not sound like two [tu], but like the final sound of cats [kæts] followed
by /u/.
Line 5: e.g. dashi ‘broth’, deshi ‘disciple’, dōshi ‘verb’. The
palatalized counterparts are identical to those in the /z/ line (line 12).
Lines 5, 12: Around the sixteenth century, /d/ + /i/ and /z/ + /i/ merged
and came to be pronounced as the first syllable of genius [dʒiniəs].
Likewise, /d/ + /u/ and /z/ + /u/ merged and became zoo [zu] or, as a
variation, like the end of kids [kʰɪdz] followed by /u/. The difference
between [dz] and [z] is very subtle, influenced only by how abrupt
([dz]) or gradual ([z]) the onset of the consonant is. To the Japanese
ear, the distinction between AIDS [eɪdz] (Acquired Immune
Deficiency Syndrome) and A’s [eɪz] (the Oakland Athletics
professional baseball team) is very difficult to make.
Line 6: e.g. kari ‘debt’, kiri ‘fog’, kuri ‘chestnut’, keri ‘settlement’,

61
kori ‘stiffness in a body’, kyaku ‘guest’, kyū ‘nine’, kyō ‘today’.
Line 7: e.g. gan ‘wild goose’, gin ‘silver’, gun ‘county’, gen ‘string’,
gonge ‘incarnation’, gyaku ‘opposite’, gyū ‘beef’, gyō ‘line’. In the
Tōkyō dialect, /g/ is NASALIZED when it is flanked by vowels or
when it occurs after /n/. Nasalization means that the sound is released
from the nostrils, rather than through the lips. A nasalized /g/ is like
the final consonant in English sing. This sound is represented as [ŋ] in
the IPA, e.g. chigai [tʃiŋɑi] ‘difference’, ongaku [oŋŋɑkɯ] ‘music’.
Nasalization of /g/ is less common among members of the younger
generation.
Line 8: e.g. mai ‘a dance’, miki ‘a stem’, mune ‘chest’, men ‘a mask’,
mori ‘a grove’, myaku ‘the pulse’, myūzu ‘the Muses’, myōgonichi
‘day after tomorrow’.
Line 9: e.g. nashi ‘pear’, nishi ‘west’, nushi ‘owner’, neko ‘cat’, nomi
‘lice’, rōnyaku ‘young and old’, nyūyoku ‘bathing’, nyōbō ‘wife’.
Line 10: The syllable /fu/ [ɸɯ] occurs in native Japanese vocabulary
(see line 13), but the /f/ with other vowels occurs only in foreign
names and loan words: e.g. fairu ‘a file’, firumu ‘film’, fensu ‘fence’,
fōkasu ‘a focus’.
Line 11: e.g. san ‘three’, shi ‘four’, su ‘vinegar’, sen ‘one thousand’,
son ‘loss’, shakai ‘society’, shu ‘species’, shea ‘a share’, shō ‘small’.
The /s/ is palatalized before /i/. That is, /s/ + /i/ does not sound like
English sea [si], but like the third person singular pronoun she [ʃi, ʃɪ].
The palatalized /s/ in Japanese is more fronted, creating a “higher”
hiss sound than that in the English she.2
Line 12: e.g. zai ‘wealth’, jiko ‘accident’, zure ‘gap’, zei ‘tax’, zoku
‘tribe’, ja ‘snake’, jū ‘ten’, jetto ‘a jet’, jo ‘preface’.
Line 13: e.g. hari ‘needle’, hiritsu ‘ratio’, furi ‘disadvantage’, heri
‘edge’, hori ‘ditch’, hyaku ‘hundred’, Hyūga ‘the name of a city in
Kyūshū’, hyō ‘panther’. The /h/ is a voiceless counterpart of
whatever vowel follows it. Say /a/ and then stop voicing while
maintaining exhalation. You hear a spirant sound, which is [h]. Next,
say /i/ and cease voicing. The spirant sound this time is quite different
from the one with /a/. This sound is represented as [ç] in the IPA. The
third spirant sound to recognize is [ɸ]. This occurs when you stop
voicing after saying /u/; it is the sound created when blowing out a
candle. (This sound is represented in this book as /f/ although, unlike
in English, upper front teeth are not involved in its enunciation.)
These spirant sounds are made by the air moving through the
narrowest point in an air passage, i.e. the vocal tract. With /a/, /e/, or

62
 /o/, it is your throat, but with /i/, it is at the central tongue area, and
with /u/, the lips form the narrowest part of the passage.
Line 14: e.g. ran ‘orchid’, risu ‘squirrel’, rui ‘a kind’, rei ‘example’,
ron ‘theory’, ryaku ‘abbreviation’, ryū ‘dragon’, ryokō ‘travel’.
Word-initially, the Japanese /r/ sounds like the second consonant of
rider and writer [ɹaɪɾɚ] in fluent running speech in most dialects of
American English. Acoustically, it is a short /d/, called a TAP.3 When
you record /da/ and make the initial consonant shorter, you will obtain
/ra/. Word-medially, Japanese /r/ is frequently more like English /r/,
e.g. karada ‘body’. The /r/ is unique among the Japanese consonants
in that it uses the tip of the tongue. For the other consonants, the
tongue tip rests behind the lower teeth, even with /t/, /d/ and /n/.
Line 15: The syllable /wa/ occurs in native Japanese vocabulary, e.g.
wakare ‘separation’, but the /w/ with other vowels occurs only in
foreign names and loan words: e.g. wīku ‘week’, webu ‘the Web’,
wōtā ‘water’. The distinction between /wu/ and /u/ is virtually
imperceptible so there is no /wu/.
Line 16: e.g. yari ‘a spear’, yuri ‘lily’, yoru ‘night’. The distinction
between /yi/ and /i/ is also imperceptible, so there is no /yi/.4 The
syllable /ye/ existed until the mid-tenth century, but it merged into /e/
(Komatsu 1981: 51); today it occurs only in foreign names and loan
words, e.g. Yerusaremu ‘Jerusalem’, yerō ‘yellow’.
Table 3.1 Japanese syllables.
1 a [ɑ] i [i] u [ɯ] e [e] o [o]

2 pa pi pu pe po pya pyu
[pɑ] [pi] [pɯ] [pe] [po] [pʲɑ] [pʲɯ]

3 ba bi bu be bo bya byu
[bɑ] [bi] [bɯ] [be] [bo] [bʲɑ] [bʲɯ]

4 ta chi tsu te to cha chu che

[tɑ] [tʃi] [tsɯ] [te] [to] [tʃɑ] [tʃɯ] [tʃe]

5 da ji zu de do
[dɑ] [dʒi] [dzɯ] [de] [do]

6 ka ki ku ke ko kya kyu
[kɑ] [ki] [kɯ] [ke] [ko] [kʲɑ] [kʲɯ]

63
 7 ga gi gu ge go gya gyu
[ɡɑ] [ɡi] [ɡɯ] [ɡe] [ɡo] [ɡʲɑ] [ɡʲɯ]

8 ma mi mu me mo mya myu
[mɑ] [mi] [mɯ] [me] [mo] [mʲɑ] [mʲɯ]

9 na ni nu ne no nya nyu
[nɑ] [ni] [nɯ] [ne] [no] [nʲɑ] [nʲɯ]

10 fa fi fe fo
[ɸɑ] [ɸi] [ɸe] [ɸo]

11 sa shi su se so sha shu she

[sɑ] [ʃi] [sɯ] [se] [so] [ʃɑ] [ʃɯ] [ʃe]

12 za ji zu ze zo ja ju je
[zɑ] [dʒi] [dzɯ] [ze] [zo] [dʒɑ] [dʒɯ] [dʒe]

13 ha hi fu he ho hya hyu
[hɑ] [çi] [ɸɯ] [he] [ho] [çɑ] [çɯ]

14 ra ri ru re ro rya ryu
[ɾɑ] [ɾi] [ɾɯ] [ɾe] [ɾo] [ɾJɑ] [ɾJɯ]

15 wa wi we wo
[wɑ] [wi] [we] [wo]

16 ya yu ye yo
[jɑ] [jɯ] [je] [jo]

3.2 Long vowels and consonants

Vowel length is not distinctive in spoken English. One can elongate a
vowel without changing the basic meaning of the word, e.g. slow and
sloooow. In Japanese, by contrast, elongating a vowel can change the
meaning: e.g. obasan ‘aunt’, obāsan ‘grandmother’; ojisan ‘uncle’, ojīsan
‘grandfather’; suri ‘pickpocket’, sūri ‘mathematical principle’; teki
‘enemy’, tēki ‘commuter ticket’; ho ‘sail’, hō ‘law’.
Like the vowels, short and long consonants are distinctive in Japanese.
Long consonants occur only word-medially. The long versions of /p/, /t/,

64
and /k/ have a longer silence before they are released, e.g. maki [mɑki]
‘firewood’ vs. makki [mɑkːi] ‘the final period’; kate [kɑte] ‘food’ vs. katte
[kɑtːe] ‘selfish’; (no word-medial short /p/ except for foreign loan words,
e.g. sūpā ‘supermarket’) vs. rippa [ɾipːɑ] ‘marvelous’. Long /g/ and /d/
occur in loan words, e.g. beddo [bedːo] ‘bed’, badji [bɑdːʒi] ‘badge’,
baggu [bɑɡːɯ] ‘bag’. Some people pronounce Web as /webbu/. Long /s/
and /sh/ have a longer spirant sound, e.g. isō [isoː] ‘transfer’ vs. issō
[isːoː] ‘even more’; ishiki [iʃiki] ‘consciousness’ vs. isshiki [iʃːiki] ‘a
complete set of items’.
3.3 Syllables and moras
In English, some syllables are very complex. For example, the single-
syllable word strike [stɹaɪk] begins with three consonants, /s/+/t/+/r/,
followed by the gliding vowel /ai/, and concludes with another consonant
/k/. In contrast, Japanese syllables are much simpler. Originally, they
consisted almost exclusively of the combination of a single consonant and
a vowel, and only /p/, /t/, /k/, /s/, /m/, /n/, /w/, and /y/ could appear word-
initially. Vowels alone could form a syllable, but only in word-initial
position; i.e. a succession of vowels, e.g. baai ‘occasion’, did not occur in
native vocabulary (Watanabe 1997: 80). Complex syllables in earlier
stages were all loan words from Chinese until some time in the tenth to
twelfth centuries, when Japanese developed its own complex syllables
(Watanabe 1997: 78).
The word syllable is commonly used in English, but it is difficult to
define. Some contend that, for example, the word communism consists of
three syllables, while others perceive four. This discrepancy is due to
whether or not the final /zm/ forms a separate syllable by itself.
For the Japanese, syllable is an unfamiliar concept. When counting
speech sounds, they use a unit called the MORA instead. The short
syllables listed below each consist of one mora, the long syllables consist
of two moras, and the super-long syllables consist of three moras. Unlike
consonants and vowels, a mora is a pure counting unit, not a syllable
component. The syllable structures possible in Modern Japanese are as
follows:
Short syllables (one mora)
1.
A short i ‘stomach’, u ‘cormorant (a kind of bird)’, e
vowel ‘a handle’, o ‘a tail’

65
 2.
A ma ‘interval’, ki ‘tree’, su ‘vinegar’, te ‘a
consonant hand’, to ‘door’, cha ‘tea’, shu ‘species’,
+ a short sho ‘calligraphy’
vowel

Long syllables (two moras, or morae)

3.
A long āmondo ‘almond’, īsuto ‘yeast’, ūru ‘wool’,
vowel ēga ‘movie’, ō ‘king’
4.
A okāsan ‘mother’, onīsan ‘older brother’, sū
consonant ‘a number’, tēka ‘the list price’, gōka
+ a long ‘gorgeous’, chāhan ‘fried rice’, jū ‘ten’, hyō
vowel ‘graph’
5.
A short vowel + a nasal an ‘idea’, in ‘a seal’, un
consonant ‘luck’, en ‘fate’
6.
A consonant + man ‘ten thousand’, kin ‘gold’, fun
a short vowel + ‘minute’, hen ‘strange’, hon ‘book’,
a nasal akachan ‘baby’, jun ‘pure’, hyonna
consonant ‘unexpected’
7.
A short akka ‘deterioration’, ippa ‘sect’, ukkari
vowel + a ‘carelessly’, ekken ‘exceeding one’s
consonant authority’, otto ‘husband’
8.
A consonant + a sakka ‘novelist’, jikken ‘experiment’,
short vowel + a shuppatsu ‘departure’, zesshoku
consonant ‘fasting’, kokkyō ‘border’

66
Super-long syllables (three moras)
9.
A long ān ‘crying (onomatopoeia)’, īn da ‘It’s OK’,
vowel + a ūn ‘(interjection)’, ēn ‘crying
nasal (onomatopoeia)’, ōn ‘crying
consonant (onomatopoeia)’
10.
A consonant + gān ‘a boom (onomatopoeia)’, jīn
a long vowel + ‘gene’, rēn ‘a lane’, rōn ‘a loan’, jān
a nasal ‘(interjection)’, chūnnappu ‘tune up’,
consonant jōn ‘Joan’
11.
A long ātto odoroita ‘got surprised’, ītte itta ‘said
vowel + a OK’, ūtto unatta ‘groaned’, ētto odoroita
consonant ‘got surprised’, ōtto me o mihatta ‘became
entranced’
12.
A consonant + a kātto natta ‘got angry’, jītto shiteiru ‘is
long vowel + a staying still’, zūtto mae ‘a long time
consonant ago’, kōtta ‘frozen’

The nasal consonant in syllable-final position, e.g. hon ‘book’ (lines 5,

6, 9, 10 above), counts as one mora and is referred to as a MORAIC
NASAL.5 It is pronounced as /m/ when followed by a /p/, /b/, or /m/;
however, in this book, the moraic nasal is invariably represented as “n”.
For example, sanpo /sampo/ ‘a stroll’, shinbun /shimbun/ ‘newspaper’,
jinmyaku /jimmyaku/ ‘personal connection’. The moraic nasal is
pronounced as /n/ when followed by /t/, /d/, or /n/, e.g. juntaku /juntaku/
‘abundant’, gendai /gendai/ ‘modern times’, konnan /konnan/ ‘suffering’.
In all other positions, it is pronounced as the final consonant of English
sing, [ŋ].6 Before a vowel or /y/, an apostrophe is inserted after the moraic
nasal to indicate a syllable boundary, e.g. shin’ai ‘dear’ vs. shinai ‘inside a
city’; shin’yō ‘trust’ vs. shinyō ‘human waste’.
It seems reasonable to say that (i) a short vowel occupies one mora, (ii) a

67
long vowel occupies two, and (iii) the mora count of the syllable-final
nasal is identical with that of a short vowel. Lines 7, 8, 11, and 12, in
which the first half of a long consonant counts as an independent mora, are
worth further thought. For example, akka ‘deterioration’ has three moras,
a.k.ka. As explained above, the realization of a long voiceless consonant is
an elongated silence before it is released. Thus, the first half of the long /k/
is simply silence, and yet, it has the same moraic status as /a/ and /ka/.
Haiku poetry illustrates the significance of the mora in Japanese. Three
verses consist of five, seven, and five moras. The following haiku are all
by MATSUO Basho (1644–94), translated by William Cohen (1972).
Hi no michi ya (5), aoi katamuku (7), satsukiame (5)
‘In the rainy dusk, the flamboyant hibiscus, makes its own sunset’.
(p. 48)
This haiku consists solely of one-mora syllables. The next two haiku
demonstrate that the moraic nasal and the first half of a long consonant are
counted as separate moras.
Kono aki wa (5), nande toshiyoru (7), kumo ni tori (5) (written two
weeks before his death)
‘In the autumn sky, its birds and its clouds, I feel my old age.’
(p. 49)
Ume ga ka ni (5), notto hi no deru (7), yamaji kana (5)
‘Mountain road –, sun rising warm, into the plum scent.’
(p. 44)
3.4 Vowel devoicing
Consider the phrase ikimasu ‘I’ll go’. It is not pronounced as /ikimasu/,
but, rather, as /ikimas / (the small circle indicates that the vowel is
devoiced). If the /u/ is not devoiced, the speech does not sound like Tōkyō
Japanese. The so-called high vowels, /i/ and /u/, are normally devoiced in
fluent running speech when flanked by voiceless consonants or when
occurring in word-final position, e.g. k ken ‘danger’, k suri ‘medicine’,
ak ‘autumn’, ak ‘evil’. Devoicing of two or more consecutive syllables
is possible (Hasegawa 1999a: 523–24), e.g. k f kin ‘donation money’, h
k ts tsuaru ‘in the process of receding’. When all of the vowels in a word
satisfy the devoicing condition, the final vowel is voiced, e.g. k ki ‘crisis’,
ts ki ‘moon’, k k ts tsu ‘while listening’. Vowel devoicing is very
common in Tōkyō Japanese.7 In casual speech, I devoice even the low
vowel, /a/, e.g. As k sa ‘(a district in Tōkyō)’. A succession of voiceless

68
consonants resulting from vowel devoicing gives a harsh impression to
speakers of other dialects.
Voicing is a defining characteristic of vowels. The term DEVOICED
VOWEL would therefore sound oxymoronic. Why not consider the vowel
to be deleted, instead of devoiced? There are several reasons to prefer
vowel devoicing to vowel deletion. Most prominently, vowel deletion
would create a very complex sound system. That is, we would have to add
a large number of complex syllables to the inventory, e.g. ak, as in ak
‘autumn’, which is not desirable. Secondly, although they are devoiced in
normal running speech, vowels can be present in careful or emphatic
speech. Thirdly, a devoiced vowel forms one mora in poetry.
(1) K ku no ka ya (5), Nara ni wa furuk (7), hotoke-tach (5)
‘Chrysanthemums’ scent – In the old town of Nara, Many ancient
Buddhas.’
(MATSUO Basho, translation by Makoto Ueda 1970/1982: 66)
And, finally, as discussed in the next section, syllables with a devoiced
vowel can still carry a pitch accent.
3.5 Pitch accent
ACCENT is a prominence given to a certain syllable over other syllables in
a word, independently of the mode in which this prominence is achieved.
Languages are often characterized as TONAL or NON-TONAL. Tonal
languages utilize voice pitch to distinguish words, whereas non-tonal
languages do not utilize pitch in this way. Tonal languages are further
divided into TONE LANGUAGES (e.g. Chinese) and PITCH-ACCENT
LANGUAGES (e.g. most dialects of Japanese). In tone languages, no
syllable is considered more prominent (i.e. accented) than any other(s). In
pitch-accent languages, by contrast, the specification of one or more accent
location(s) is sufficient to predict the tonal configuration, or melody, of the
entire word.
Tōkyō Japanese has traditionally been described in terms of each
syllable carrying either a high (H) tone or low (L) tone. For example,
yamazakura ‘wild cherry’ is associated with the LHHLL pattern. Note that
no syllable carries special prominence in this type of description.
However, in recent decades, Tōkyō Japanese has been characterized as an
archetypical pitch-accent language. That is, at most, one syllable is
necessarily marked as accented. (Note that Japanese also has
ACCENTLESS WORDS, without any marked accent.) In the case of
yamazákura, marking the third syllable as accented correctly generates the

69
LHHLL pattern by application of these rules (Miyata 1927).
(i) Assign H to all syllables up to the ya ma zá ku ra
accented syllable, if any, or to the
final syllable if no syllable is H H H
marked accented.

(ii) Assign L to all syllables following H H H L L

the accented syllable.

(iii) Reassign L to the initial mora L H H L L

unless the syllable is accented.

When the initial syllable is short, Rule (iii) applies straightforwardly as

in yamazákura. When it is long, however, this initial lowering is optional.
That is, senséi ‘teacher’ can be pronounced as se (L) n (H) sé (H) i (L) or
se (H) n (H) sé (H) i (L).8
In this pitch-accent description, although only one syllable is marked as
accented, every syllable is associated with either a H or L tone for
pronunciation. However, acoustical analyses of Japanese utterances
provide little evidence for such a claim. That is, tones appear to be more
sparsely distributed (Pierrehumbert and Beckman 1988). So in recent years
it has been argued that Tōkyō Japanese is similar to STRESS-ACCENT
LANGUAGES (e.g. English). In English declarative intonation, the most
significant cue of accent is pitch, followed by length, and then loudness
(Fry 1958). Accented syllables are typically pronounced with a high pitch
that is longer and louder. In Japanese, on the other hand, accent is
manifested solely by pitch; the accented syllable is neither longer nor
louder than any others (Fujisaki and Sugito 1977).
One-syllable words have two accent patterns, two-syllable words have
three patterns, three-syllable words have four patterns, and so forth. The
addition of a grammatical particle (Chapter 7), e.g. o, after the word
makes this clearer. For example:
(2) [One syllable word + particle]
kí o kiru ‘cut a tree’ HL

ki o tsukeru ‘pay attention’ LH [accentless]

(3) [Two syllable word + particle]

70
 háshi o ‘use chopsticks’ HLL
tsukau

hashí o ‘cross a bridge’ LHL

wataru

hashi o aruku ‘walk on the side of a LHH

road’ [accentless]
(4) [Three syllable word + particle]
táyori o morau ‘receive a letter’ HLLL

nakámi o ‘check the content’ LHLL

shiraberu

ikarí o osaeru ‘restrain one’s LHHL

fury’

mikata o tsukuru ‘make an ally’ LHHH

[accentless]

Two-syllable words have either the first syllable accented, e.g. háshi
‘chopsticks’, or the second syllable accented, e.g. hashí ‘bridge’, or are
accentless, e.g. hashi ‘side/edge’. As mentioned above, Japanese accent
manifests as the H tone that is immediately followed by a L tone. (When
the word is accentless, there is no fall from H to L.)
What happens when the accented syllable is devoiced is an interesting
question. When no voicing is involved, neither H nor L tones can exist.
Some researchers claim that accented syllables are not devoiced, but this
claim is inaccurate, as demonstrated by ch ka ‘underground’, k kai
‘machine’ and ak kaze ‘autumn wind’. While it is possible to
conceptualize such words as containing a sequence of H-L, in actuality,
this tonal sequence is manifested as a single pitch fall. Therefore, if there
is a noticeable drop in pitch, e.g. on ka in ch ka, the preceding segment
ch is considered to be accented, i.e. apparently carrying a H tone (Sugito
1969/1982: 49–75; Hasegawa and Hata 1992; Hasegawa 1995). This
ability to carry a pitch accent is one of the reasons that the vowels should
be considered devoiced, rather than deleted.

71
3.6 Successions of vowels
Whenever I teach Japanese linguistics, one of the most controversial issues
is whether or not Japanese has gliding (vis-à-vis steady-state) vowels as in
English I [aɪ], how [aʊ], bay [eɪ], boy [oɪ] and boat [oʊ]. Many
researchers claim that, unless each segment belongs to a different meaning
unit, some sequences of non-identical vowels in Japanese should be
considered gliding vowels (e.g. Poser 1985; Vance 1987; Kubozono 2001).
That is, /ei/ in neiki ‘breathing during sleep’ consists of two syllables
because they belong to different meaning units: ne ‘sleep’ + iki ‘breath’.
By contrast, vowels in such words as ai ‘love’ and ao ‘blue’ belong to a
single meaning unit and, therefore, form only one syllable.
To me, this analysis sounds biased by native speakers’ intuition or
assumptions about the English sound system. Whereas vowel
combinations in English are very limited (normally five, as listed above),
all five Japanese vowels can appear in succession. Therefore, if we include
all sequences of distinct vowels as single gliding vowels, we must
recognize twenty vowels (/ai/, /au/, /ae/, /ao/, /ia/, /iu/, /ie/, /io/, etc.), in
addition to five short vowels and five long vowels. All this adds
unnecessary complexity to the Japanese sound system.
The second reason I argue against the gliding-vowel analysis is that each
vowel in a sequence has the potential to carry an accent. In English, a
gliding vowel behaves as a single unit in terms of accentual (stress)
patterns.9 That is, if the vowel in question has an accent, it is nonsensical
to ask whether the first half or the second half is accented. In Japanese, by
contrast, either vowel in a sequence can in principle carry an accent.
máiru ‘go’ maíru ‘be beaten’

háu ‘to crawl’ haúru ‘make acoustic

feedback’

kíui ‘kiwi’ iú ‘to say’

kíe ‘becoming a believer of a ié ‘a house’

religion’

íon ‘ion’ shió ‘salt’

káeru ‘go home’ kotaéru ‘to answer’

72
 áo ‘blue’ aóru ‘instigate’

kúi ‘a stake’ suímu ‘to swim’

tsúe ‘a stick’ ué ‘starvation’

Súō (place name) uó ‘a fish’

óiru ‘oil’ oíru ‘grow old’

tóu ‘ask’ koúru ‘to love’

kóe ‘a voice’ hoéru ‘to bark’

I therefore consider each vowel in non-identical vowel sequences to

count as one syllable.
3.7 Sequential voicing (rendaku)
Words are frequently combined to express a new concept. Consider iki
‘going’ and kaeri ‘coming back’. These words can be combined to express
the concept round trip. In this case, the components are of equal status;
neither is modifying the other. A word formed in this way is referred to as
a COORDINATE COMPOUND.10 By contrast, kaeri can be combined with a
noun that specifies a location from which one returns, e.g. Furansu
‘France’, kangoku ‘jail’. In this case, the combined word modifies or
supplements the concept of kaeri; that is, the relationship between the
components is stronger. In the former case, kaeri does not undergo any
change in pronunciation, i.e. iki-kaeri ‘round trip’, but in the latter, the
initial voiceless consonant of kaeri changes to its voiced counterpart, /g/,
as in Furansu-gaeri ‘returning from France’, kangoku-gaeri ‘returning
from a jail’. This phenomenon is called SEQUENTIAL VOICING, or
RENDAKU in Japanese. For example:
(5)
/t/ → /d/ tana ‘shelf’ + ta ‘rice field’ → tanada ‘terraced rice
field’

/k/ → waka ‘young’ + ki ‘tree’ → wakagi ‘young tree’

/g/

/s/ → /z/ inu ‘dog’ + sori ‘sleigh’ → inuzori ‘dog sleigh’

73
 /h/ → mushi ‘insect’ + ha ‘tooth’ → mushiba ‘decayed tooth’
/b/

Note that when the /h/ undergoes rendaku, it becomes /b/. This
irregularity is due to the fact that /h/ was originally /p/ (see Section 3.1).
Rendaku might have occurred regularly in ancient times (Miller 1967:
194–95), but in Modern Japanese it is impossible to predict whether or not
the compound word in question will exhibit rendaku. Nevertheless, some
generalizations have been proposed by researchers.
1. As mentioned above, with very few exceptions, rendaku does not
occur in coordinate compounds.
2. Loan words from Chinese tend to resist rendaku (Okumura 1980),
e.g. kan ‘view’ + ten ‘point’ → kan-ten ‘viewpoint’; hoken
‘insurance’ + kin ‘money’ → hoken-kin ‘insurance benefit’; dai
‘big’ + shinsai ‘disaster’ → dai-shinsai ‘catastrophe’. There are
numerous exceptions, e.g. denryoku ‘electric power’ + kaisha
‘company’ → denryoku-gaisha; san ‘mountain’ + ka ‘river’ →
san-ga ‘mountains and rivers’; kin ‘gold’ + san ‘mountain’ → kin-
zan ‘gold mine’; bunko ‘library’ + hon ‘book’ → bunko-bon
‘paperback’.
3. Loan words from languages other than Chinese rarely undergo
rendaku, e.g. binīru ‘vinyl’ + tairu ‘tile’ → binīru-tairu ‘vinyl
flooring’; keshō ‘makeup’ + kēsu ‘case’ → keshō-kēsu ‘makeup
pouch’; kōn ‘corn’ + sūpu ‘soup’ → kōn-sūpu ‘corn soup’. The
rare exceptions are: ama ‘rain’ (< ame) + kappa ‘coat’ (<
Portuguese capa) → ama-gappa ‘raincoat’; uta ‘poetry’ + karuta
‘card’ (< Portuguese carta) → uta-garuta ‘poetry cards used for a
game’; mizu ‘water’ + kiseru ‘pipe’ (from Cambodian khsier) →
mizu-giseru ‘hookah’ (Vance 1987: 140–41).
4. Onomatopoeia and other sound-symbolic words (see Subsection
5.2.8) resist rendaku.
5. When the second component contains a voiced stop (/b/, /d/, /g/) or
a voiced fricative (/z/), rendaku does not occur. For example,
kotsu ‘bone’ + tsubo ‘urn’ → kotsu-tsubo ‘cremation urn’; hi ‘sun’
+ kage ‘shade’ → hi-kage ‘shade’; chichi ‘milk’ + shibori
‘squeeze’ → chichi-shibori ‘milking’; aka ‘red’ + hige ‘beard’ →
aka-hige ‘red beard’. This constraint is frequently referred to as
LYMAN’S LAW, after Benjamin Smith Lyman (1835–1920),
although he was not the first person to recognize this phenomenon

74
 (Shibatani 1990: 174).
1 The International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) is a standardized
representation of the sounds of the world’s languages.
2 “A higher hiss sound” means that the sound is more concentrated in
regions of higher frequency. Therefore, a more accurate representation in
the IPA is [ɕ], rather than [ʃ].
3 In some dialects (e.g. Kinki, Shikoku, Kyūshū), /r/ is pronounced as /d/,
e.g. rōsoku ‘candle’ > dōsoku (Kindaichi 1953: 138).
4 In English, the distinction between ‘year’ [jɪə(ɹ)] and ‘ear’ [ɪə(ɹ)] is
possible because [ɪ] is lower than Japanese [i]. In fact, Japanese [i] is very
high and there is no room for gliding, which makes /i/ [i] and /yi/ [ji]
indistinguishable.
5 The syllable-final nasal consonant is sometimes called a syllabic nasal;
however, it does not form a separate syllable.
6 The moraic nasal has more variations. For example, it is commonly a
palatal (the roof of the mouth) nasal before a palatal sound, e.g. kon’yaku
[koɲjɑkɯ] ‘engagement’. It is sometimes realized as merely a nasalized
vowel, e.g. on’inron [õiŋɾoŋ] ‘phonology’.
7 In Kansai dialects, vowels are fully voiced. The vowels in one-mora
words are even frequently elongated and pronounced as two-mora words,
e.g. ki ‘tree’ > kī; ha ‘tooth’ > hā.
8 A more natural pronunciation of the vowel sequence /ei/ is /ē/, e.g.
sensē. However, this book consistently represents it as /ei/.
9 The gliding vowel analysis of English is also justified historically. The
gliding vowels in today’s English were single vowels in Middle English.
For example, as its spelling indicates, [eɪ] in make used to be a long /a/.
10 A coordinate compound is also referred to as a DVANDVA compound,
borrowed from Sanskrit, meaning dva ‘two’ + n ‘and’ + dva ‘two’.

75
 4 Writing system
In striking contrast to its simple sound system, the Japanese language
employs what is arguably the most convoluted writing system ever devised
in human history. Sampson (1985: 173) declares,
One reason why Japanese script deserves its place in this [Sampson’s]
book is as an illustration of just how cumbersome a script can be and
still serve in practice.
This notoriety is ultimately due to the fact that Japanese writing evolved
from that of Chinese, a language with substantially different sound and
word formation systems.
4.1 Writing Japanese with kanji
In the late fourth and early fifth centuries AD, Chinese script was
introduced to Japan under the tutelage of Korean scholars.1 In Chinese (as
spoken and written then), each meaning unit consisted of one syllable, and
was represented by a single character called a KANJI, literally ‘a character
of the Han dynasty of ancient China’ (206 BC–220 AD).
Recording a language with kanji is fundamentally different from doing it
with, say, the Roman alphabet, which is designed to represent speech
sounds. The method of recording speech sounds is termed a
PHONOGRAPHIC WRITING SYSTEM (phono = sound). In kanji writing, by
contrast, ideas, rather than sounds, are represented, so it is called an
IDEOGRAPHIC WRITING SYSTEM (ideo = idea).2 Each kanji is associated
with one or more strings of sounds in a particular language in which it
serves, but, unlike phonographic systems, this graph–sound association is
secondary to the representation of ideas.
Some kanji are PICTOGRAPHS (picto = picture), originally pictorial
representations of what they designate. For example, in Figure 4.1, from
top to bottom, the characters represent moon, mountain, and tree.
However, most kanji are more abstract than pictorial.

76
Figure 4.1. Pictographs.
Modern languages make limited use of ideographic writing: namely
Arabic numerals. Symbols like 1, 2, 3, etc. are pronounced differently
from language to language, but they are nonetheless decipherable,
regardless of actual pronunciation. Even within English, the character 2 is
pronounced differently in 2 and 2nd, but the idea/meaning remains
constant – a quintessential characteristic of ideographs.
Ideographic writing can be considered less efficient than phonographic
writing because it requires a huge inventory of symbols. A phonographic
writing system, on the one hand, needs only to represent speech sounds –
and each language uses a fairly small number out of all possible sounds
that humans can intentionally produce. Therefore, if selected sounds are to
be recorded in writing, a small set of symbols will suffice. By contrast, the
ideas that humans can think of are limitless, so if they are to be recorded
straightforwardly, an infinite number of symbols is mandatory – which is,
of course, impossible. Kanji writing, therefore, is a compromise: each
kanji character represents a group of ideas or an abstract concept, rather
than a specific idea.
Ideographs do have an advantage over phonographs, however, as
exemplified by Arabic numerals, wherein symbols are language
independent. For example, in phonographic writing, a string of symbols
such as two is meaningless unless one knows the language, whereas the
symbol 2 conveys its meaning independent of knowledge of the language.
Japanese recorders borrowed from Chinese scribes not only kanji
characters but also many words that they represented, e.g. gakusei 学生
‘student’ and sensei 先生 ‘teacher’. The loan words from Chinese are
called SINO-JAPANESE WORDS (discussed further in Section 5.1). In kanji
writing, ideas are frequently decomposed and represented by a

77
combination of characters. The notion of student is written as 学 ‘to
learn/study’ + 生 ‘life’ (= learning/studying person), and the notion of
teacher as 先 ‘preceding’ + 生 ‘life’ (= preceding person). In Sino-
Japanese words, the pronunciation of each kanji is highly consistent: 生 is
read as /sei/ in both gakusei 学生 and sensei 先生.
The notion of ‘tomorrow’ was represented in Chinese as 明 ‘shining’ +
日 ‘day’, which was pronounced approximately as /myōnichi/ when it was
borrowed. Because kanji are language independent, we can read 明日 as
tomorrow. When we do so, it is not meaningful to specify that 明 is read as
/to/ and 日 as /morrow/. Rather, 明日 as a whole is assigned the sound
value /tomorrow/. This is an illustration of how ancient Japanese people
adapted kanji to represent their language. The Japanese word for
‘tomorrow’ was ashita, so it was recorded as 明日 and read as /ashita/.
Like the English example of ‘tomorrow’, it is not the case that the reading
of 明 is /a/, and the reading of 日 is /shita/; rather, 明日 as a whole is read
as /ashita/. The Japanese translation equivalent assigned to a kanji or a
sequence of kanji is called a KUN READING ‘the instructional reading’,
whereas the original Chinese pronunciation is called an ON READING ‘the
phonetic reading’.3
The granularity of Japanese concepts, as encoded in words, was coarse
with respect to Chinese. That is, a single concept in Japanese was dissected
into separate concepts, each represented by different kanji in Chinese. The
Japanese verb toru ‘take’, for example, covered a range of meanings – and
thus kanji – in Chinese. Therefore, when written in Japanese, these
different meanings were, and still are, expressed with different kanji as
shown in (1) below.
(1)
取る take (general)

採る get/gather/pick fruits, nuts, flowers, etc.

捕る catch fish, animals, etc.

摂る intake

執る take a pen in hand, manage, perform the duties of an office

78
 盗る steal

撮る take a picture4

With some ingenuity, it is possible to record English sentences with

kanji. For example, I bought a house can be written as 私 (= I) 買 (= buy)
家 (= house). Although the a in a house is not represented, it is easily
inferable from the context. But what about bought? 私買家 could mean
‘I’ll buy a house’, so it is necessary to indicate that the event has taken
place in the past. One solution is to write 私買-x家, where “-x” marks the
past tense. The question then is what symbol should be used for “-x”?
There are two possibilities: one is to use a kanji that represents the
meaning past; the other is to use a kanji that is pronounced with a sound
similar to the English past-tense marker ‑ed. The latter is preferable
because what should be recorded here is not an independent word past,
but, rather, a meaning that “modifies” the word buy.
To use a kanji for its sound value, rather than for its meaning, was
revolutionary – an amalgamation of ideographic and phonographic writing
systems. This is the inception of “a quite astonishingly complicated
method of making language visible” (Sampson 1985: 172).5 Although
Chinese writing might appear daunting to the uninitiated, it is much
simpler than Japanese, which involves unparalleled complexity (p. 172).
This mixed writing system invented by the ancient Japanese is known as
MAN’YŌGANA because it was used extensively in Man’yōshū [‘Collection
of Ten Thousand Leaves’], a literary anthology consisting of over 4,500
poems that was compiled circa 672–771 AD (Miller 1971: 4).6
The representation of Japanese speech sounds with kanji required many
adjustments because of the drastic discrepancy between the two languages’
sound systems. The Chinese pronunciation of many kanji utilizes a final
consonant, but the syllabic structure of Japanese strictly dictates vowels at
the end of all syllables, with or without an initial consonant, e.g. /a/ or /ta/.
Man’yōgana resolved this problem in two ways. The most common
method was to ignore the final consonant, e.g. ten 天 for recording the
Japanese sound /te/. The less common way was to make a kanji represent
two syllables by adding a vowel at the end, e.g. kem 險 became /kemu/
(Seeley 2000: 50; the sounds in these examples are slightly simplified for
expository purposes).

79
 Man’yōshū is written exclusively with kanji, but it actually involves
three distinct writing systems. In the first, a kanji stands for its kun
reading. This is an instance of ideographic writing. The second makes use
of the Chinese sound (on reading) and ignores the meaning of the Chinese
word that the kanji designates. This is phonographic writing. The third
uses only the sound of the kun reading, ignoring the meaning of the
corresponding Japanese word. This is another phonographic writing
method. These three encoding systems mixed freely in the text without
indication of how each kanji should be interpreted. For example, in (2).
(2) 此川乃絶事奈久
kono kafa no tayuru koto naku
‘This river never ceases flowing’
此 kono ‘this’, 川 kafa ‘river’, 絶 tayuru ‘to cease’ and 事 koto ‘an
event’ are kun readings, i.e. in ideographic writing. By contrast, 乃 no, 奈
na, and 久 ku are on readings, i.e. in phonographic writing. An example of
the third type is 夏樫 for natukashi ‘longed for’, where /natu/ is the kun
reading of 夏 ‘summer’ and /kashi/ is the kun reading of 樫 ‘oak tree’,7
their meanings being totally ignored (Yasuda 1988: 66). Miller (1967: 98)
describes this state of affairs as follows:
The method of writing a given word in any particular instance would
depend on scribal preference, the amount of empty space available for
inscribing a given text (because man’yōgana used more graphs per
Japanese word than kun writing), or other esthetic factors, and there is
ample evidence that the early Japanese scribes took considerable
pleasure in the possibilities for elegant graphic variation which the
script afforded them.
4.2 Development of kana syllabaries
While man’yōgana continued to be used until the twelfth century
(Tsukimoto 1988: 76), two syllabaries were invented during the ninth
century, each originating as an aid for reading Chinese texts (Seeley 2000:
62). One of these is HIRAGANA ‘plain kana’, highly simplified cursive
forms of kanji; the other is KATAKANA ‘partial kana’, consisting of
distinctive features of kanji. Table 4.1 shows these syllabaries together
with the kanji from which each kana character was derived (Shōgaku
Tosho 1981: 2610–11).8
Table 4.1 Japanese syllabaries.

80
Hiragana Katakana

a i u e o a i u e o
安 以 宇 衣 於 阿 伊 宇 江 於
あ い う え お ア イ ウ エ オ

ka ki ku ke ko ka ki ku ke ko
加 幾 久 計 己 加 幾 久 介 己
か き く け こ カ キ ク ケ コ

sa shi su se so sa shi su se so
左 之 寸 世 曽 散 之 須 世 曽
さ し す せ そ サ シ ス セ ソ

ta chi tsu te to ta chi tsu te to

太 知 州 天 止 多 千 川 天 止
た ち つ て と タ チ ツ テ ト

na ni nu ne no na ni nu ne no
奈 仁 奴 禰 乃 奈 ニ 奴 禰 乃
な に ぬ ね の ナ ニ ヌ ネ ノ

ha hi fu he ho ha hi fu he ho
波 比 不 部 保 八 比 不 部 保
は ひ ふ へ ほ ハ ヒ フ ヘ ホ

ma mi mu me mo ma mi mu me mo
末 美 武 女 毛 万 三 牟 女 毛
ま み む め も マ ミ ム メ モ

ya yu yo ya yu yo
也 由 与 也 由 与
や ゆ よ ヤ ユ ヨ

ra ri ru re ro ra ri ru re ro
良 利 留 礼 呂 良 利 流 礼 呂
ら り る れ ろ ラ リ ル レ ロ

81
 wa wi we wo wa wi we wo
和 為 恵 遠 和 井 恵 乎
わ ゐ ゑ を ワ ヰ ヱ ヲ

n n
无 ？
ん ン

The sounds corresponding to ゐ, ヰ /wi/ and ゑ, ヱ /we/ became

obsolete, and these characters are no longer used in Modern Japanese. The
sound を, ヲ /wo/ is identical to お, オ /o/ in most dialects of Modern
Japanese; however, the characters を and ヲ are still in use for
representing the ACCUSATIVE CASE PARTICLE (see Section 7.2). The
original kanji from which the katakana ン was derived is unknown.
In man’yōgana, voiceless and voiced consonants were distinguished,
e.g. 加 for /ka/ vs. 我 for /ga/, but in hiragana and katakana writing, this
distinction was lost until the Kamakura period (1185–1333), when various
diacritic markers became popular. The present system of using a set of
“dots” (which appear more like tiny, diagonal slashes) for voicing, e.g. ぐ
and グ for /gu/, and a small circle for /p/, e.g. ぱ and パ for /pa/, was
developed during the Edo period (1603–1868) (Kokugogakkai 1980: 585–
56).9
The invention of hiragana and katakana enabled Japanese people to
record their language with their own script, rather than in a roundabout
fashion with the Chinese writing system. Why they maintained the use of
kanji is puzzling. Another enigma is that they kept two functionally
identical sets of phonographic script, in regard to which Sampson (1985:
172–73) remarks:
Japanese society, during much of the period in which the script was
developed, was characterized by the existence of an aristocratic class
many members of which lacked political power or indeed any serious
employment, so that their only role in life was as definers and
producers of cultural norms, ways of civilized living … As a natural
result, many aspects of Japanese culture, including its writing, were
greatly elaborated, made exquisite and intellectually rich rather than
straightforwardly functional. (This contrasts with the case of China,

82
 which at most periods of its history was a rather down-to-earth,
workaday civilization and where the script, for instance, was shaped
in the historical period largely by civil servants who had plenty to
keep them busy.)
Kabashima (1977: 139–43) offers a different view. He notes that it took
about 500 years to develop the kana script. Considering the simple sound
structure of Japanese, this is excessively long; recording Japanese speech
sounds required a mere ninety or so characters. He concludes that the
purpose of continuing to import kanji was not to record the Japanese
language, but to learn advanced Chinese culture and political systems.
Abandoning kanji meant severance of precious resources. Until the end of
the Edo period, all governmental documents were written in modified
Chinese (Tsukishima 1988: 63),10 and the ruling class was not concerned
with establishing orthography for recording the Japanese language.
Regarding the existence of two kana syllabaries, Kabashima explains
that they carried distinctly different functions. Katakana was developed as
a supplement to the kanji writing system and used where kanji could not
function well, e.g. as grammatical markers unique to the Japanese
language. It was also used as an aid for reading Chinese texts. The shapes
of katakana matching those of kanji esthetically, these two kinds of scripts
formed a single writing system. For this reason, katakana was freely used
in official documents. Hiragana, on the other hand, was detached from the
kanji writing system and used in private spheres, e.g. in diaries, and was
never used in government documents until the end of World War II
(Tsukishima 1988: 63).
Kabashima (1977: 143) points out two additional reasons why kanji
were not replaced entirely by kana. One is kanji’s faster processing time,
an advantage of ideographic writing over phonographic writing. Compare,
for example, fifty-three thousand six hundred and ninety one with 53,691.
Likewise, 五万三千六百九十一 ‘53,691’ is faster to comprehend than ご
まんさんぜんろっぴゃくきゅうじゅういち or goman-sanzen-
roppyaku-kyūjū-ichi.
Productivity was the second reason kanji was retained. For over 200
years, since 1633 during the Edo period, Japan secluded itself from foreign
countries other than China, Korea, the Netherlands, and Ryukyus (present
day Okinawa). When it opened its doors in the middle of the nineteenth
century, enormous influences from the West swept across Japan. Literary
works and treatises from Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Russia, and the

83
United States were translated into Japanese at such an astonishing speed
that it became necessary to coin new words to express western concepts.
Such pivotal terms as shakai 社会 ‘society’,11 kojin 個人 ‘individual’,
kenri 権利 ‘a right’, and jiyū 自由 ‘freedom’ were all created during this
period (Yanabu 1982). Without kanji’s productive power, this momentous
enterprise could not have been accomplished.
In Modern Japanese texts, kanji, hiragana, and katakana are freely mixed
as illustrated in (3), the opening sentence of KAWABATA Yasunari’s
Yukiguni [‘Snow Country’].
(3) 国境の長いトンネルを抜けると雪国であった。
‘The train came out of the long tunnel into the snow country.’
(Translation by Edward Seidensticker)
[Lit.] When (the train) went through a long tunnel at the border, it was
snow country.
4.3 Orthography reforms
Even after the practice of writing became widespread among commoners
during the Edo period (1603–1868), the highly complicated, mixed writing
system of kanji and kana was retained. The first person who called for
reform was MAEJIMA Hisoka, a translator at Kaiseijo (Institute for Western
Learning). Because learning kanji was so time consuming, in 1867 (a year
before the Meiji Restoration), Maejima presented to the shogun
TOKUGAWA Yoshinobu a petition for the abolition of kanji. If the Japanese
language were written only with kana, he argued, young people would be
able to spend time learning other, more practical, and beneficial subjects.12
However, because it was submitted in the middle of the political turmoil
that ended the 265-year Tokugawa shogunate, the petition understandably
failed to receive attention.
In the early Meiji period (1868–1912), the idea of abolishing kanji
gained some popularity. The Kana no kai (Kana Club), leader of the Kana
Only Movement, was formed in 1883, and the Rōmaji kai (Romanization
Club), advocating the exclusive use of the Roman alphabet, was founded
in 1885. (The Romaji kai became disunited due to different Romanization
systems, which will be explained in Section 4.6.) Despite these
movements, the reform strategy adopted by the Meiji government, as first
proposed by FUKUZAWA Yukichi, did not abolish kanji, instead restricting
the number of kanji in use (Amanuma 1988: 1234).

84
 All attempts to reform the Japanese writing system failed until the end
of World War II in 1945. For example, in 1900, the Ministry of Education
issued a new regulation that restricted the number of kanji taught in
elementary schools to about 1,200, and in 1923, the Interim Committee on
the National Language announced the Jōyō kanjihyō 常用漢字表 (List of
Kanji for General Use), which consisted of 1,962 characters. The number
of kanji on this list was reduced in 1931 to 1,858. In 1942, the Deliberative
Council of the National Language compiled the Hyōjun kanjihyō 標準漢
字表 (List of Standard Kanji), which enlarged the list to 2,528 characters.
In 1946, the Allied High Command, which occupied post-war Japan,
sent an American delegation to Japan to study its education system. The
delegation recommended the adoption of the Roman alphabet as the
orthography of the Japanese language, because, it claimed, kanji use was
not only inefficient, but also functioned as an underpinning of Japan’s
isolationism and exclusivism (Watabe 1995: 336–38). Nevertheless, the
Japanese were able to reject the delegation’s order.
In 1946, effective language reform began when two regulations were
promulgated. One was the Tōyō kanjihyō 当用漢字表 (‘List of Kanji for
Current Use’), consisting of 1,850 characters; the other was the Gendai
kanazukai 現代かなづかい (‘Modern Kana Usage’). The latter contrasted
with REKISHITEKI KANAZUKAI (‘Historical Kana Usage’), which
diverged significantly from actual pronunciation due to (i) reflection of
original Chinese pronunciation rather than contemporary pronunciation of
Sino-Japanese words, and (ii) sound change of native Japanese words. As
an example of (i), the kanji pronounced as /gō/ in Modern Japanese were
written as がう gau (拷), がふ gafu (合) and ごふ gofu (業). Examples of
(ii) include the sound sequence しお /shio/, which was also written as し
ほ shiho ‘salt’ and しをり shiwori ‘a bookmark’.
In 1948, the Ministry of Education selected 881 kanji from the Tōyō
kanjihyō and designated them as Kyōiku kanji 教育漢字 (Education
Kanji), compulsory learning during the first six years of schooling.13 The
Tōyō kanji onkunhyō 当用漢字音訓表 (‘List of On and Kun for the Kanji
for Current Use’) was also issued in 1948, which limited the on and kun
readings of the 1,850 tōyō kanji. For example, out of the four common
ways of writing tasukeru ‘to help’ (助ける, 援ける, 扶ける, 介ける),
only 助ける was selected in the orthography. In 1949, the Tōyō kanji

85
jitaihyō 当用漢字字体表 (List of Forms for the Kanji for Current Use)
was announced, and different forms of the same kanji identical in meaning
(e.g. 宝, 寶 takara ‘treasure’) began to be regulated.
In 1959, twenty-six OKURIGANA rules were promulgated. Recall the
example of 私買家 in Section 4.1, where a special character was needed to
express the past tense. Such “additional” kana characters are called
okurigana: the kana characters that, in the case of verbs, are appended
after the kanji to indicate tenses and other grammatical categories.
Japanese verbs are of three types, referred to as U-VERBS, RU-VERBS and
IRREGULAR VERBS (see Subsection 5.2.2). The okurigana rules stated
that with u-verbs, kanji represents the invariant parts, whereas the variant
syllables are written as okurigana, as in the examples in (4), where the
invariant part /ka/ is represented by the kanji 買:
(4)
買う ka-u [conclusive form]

買わない ka-wanai [negative form]

買います ka-imasu [polite, non-past tense]

買った ka-tta [plain, past tense]

買えば ka-eba [hypothetical form]

For ru-verbs, okurigana normally begins with the last syllable of the
invariant part.
(5)
食べる ta-beru [conclusive form]

食べない ta-benai [negative form]

食べます ta-bemasu [polite, non-past tense]

食べた ta-beta [plain, past tense]

食べれば ta-bereba [hypothetical form]

When the invariant part of a ru-verb consists of one syllable, okurigana

86
begins with the second syllable of the word.
(6)
見る mi-ru [conclusive form]

見ない mi-nai [negative form]

見ます mi-masu [polite, non-past tense]

見た mi-ta [plain, past tense]

見れば mi-reba [hypothetical form]

In 1973, the Japanese government took a more liberal stance by

considering the preceding orthographic reforms as guidelines rather than
restrictions. The Tōyō kanji onkunhyō of 1948 was revised, adding more
readings as well as irregular kun readings, e.g. heya 部屋, inaka 田舎, kyō
今日, musuko 息子, tsuyu 梅雨. The okurigana rule of 1959 was also
amended to permit more flexibility in usage.
In 1981, the Jōyō kanjihyō 常用漢字表 (‘List of Kanji for General
Use’) – a revision of the 1946 Tōyō kanjihyō – was promulgated. This
guide for kanji use contained 1,945 characters that pertain to Japanese
social life, while not encroaching upon usage in such specialized domains
as science, technology, and the arts. However, in order to facilitate smooth
communication, this list was expected to be respected as much as possible
in documents associated with laws, official announcements, newspapers,
magazines, etc. (Nomura 1988: 333). In 2010, the Jōyō kanjihyō was
revised, expanding a total of 2,136 characters, 820 of which have only on
readings, and 77 only kun readings.
The Jōyō kanjihyō encourages the use of FURIGANA, also called RUBI,
when the reading of a kanji or kanji word is anticipated to be difficult.
Furigana are reduced-size kana added to the right side (when the text is
written vertically) or top (when written horizontally) of a kanji or kanji
word as in example (7).14
(7) 万葉まんよう仮名がな man’yōgana

This convention of furigana use can be exploited to add phonetically

meaningful elements to the reading. For example, in the translation of a
foreign text into Japanese, an original word in another language can be

87
expressed as furigana in Japanese. In the following sentences, the Japanese
reading of 雷 is kaminari, and that of 閃光 is senkō. Nevertheless, in the
translation, their furigana read サンダー /sandā/ and フラッシュ
/furasshu/, respectively, which represent the original English sounds
adjusted to the Japanese sound system.
(8) “Thunder!” Miller yelled.
A moment later came the response: “Flash! Come on across!”
(Max Collins, Saving Private Ryan)
｢雷サンダー！」ミラーがどなった。
ほどなく合言葉が返ってきた。｢閃フラ光ッシュ！ こっちへ来
い！」(translation by FUSHIMI Iwan)
4.4 The frequencies of kanji in Japanese texts
Naturally, some kanji are used more frequently than others. As shown in
Table 4.2, the top 500 most-frequently used kanji account for about 75
percent of all occurrences in Japanese texts. If the top 1,000 are
considered, the rate of recognition rises to approximately 90 percent
(Nomura 1988: 342–43).15
Table 4.2 Kanji frequency of use.
Kanji Newspapers (%) Magazines (%)

Top 10 10.6 8.8

50 27.7 25.5

100 40.2 37.1

200 56.1 52.0

500 79.4 74.5

1,000 93.9 90.0

1,500 98.4 96.0

2,000 99.6 98.6

2,500 99.9 99.5

88
 3,000 99.9 99.9

4.5 Hiragana and katakana conventions

In both kana orthographies, palatalized syllables and long consonants (see
Chapter 3) are represented by smaller characters, e.g. きゃ, キャ /kya/,
きゅ, キュ /kyu/, きょ, キョ /kyo/, いっぱ, イッパ /ippa/, いった, イッ
タ /itta/, いっか, イッカ /ikka/.
Long vowels in hiragana are generally represented by the repetition of
the vowel, e.g. おかあさん okaasan ‘mother’, おにいさん oniisan
‘brother’, すうがく suugaku ‘mathematics’, おねえさん oneesan
‘sister’, とおり toori ‘street’. In Sino-Japanese words, however, long /e/ is
represented as the sequence of /ei/, e.g. えいが eiga ‘movie’, and long /o/
as /ou/, e.g. そう sou ‘a monk’. In the katakana orthography, long vowels
are written with a bar, e.g. マーク māku ‘a mark’, チーズ chīzu ‘cheese’,
ウール ūru ‘wool’, メール mēru ‘mail’, コース kōsu ‘a course’.
Today, hiragana is an integral component of the Japanese writing
system, but the use of katakana remains rather limited, used mainly for
representing scientific terms, expressive vocabulary (see Subsection 5.2.8),
names and loan words from languages other than Chinese, and for
emphasis, similar to the function of italics in English writing.
To write a foreign word in katakana, some adjustment must be made to
conform to Japanese syllable-structure constraints. Because, with few
exceptions, Japanese does not permit a sequence of consonants, a vowel
must be inserted between adjacent consonants. The default vowel is /u/
except after /t/ or /d/ when the vowel /o/ is inserted.16 Figure 4.2 illustrates
the word strike, which according to Japanese sound structure is
pronounced /sutoraiku/.17 (For the general rules of the katakana
orthography, see Hasegawa et al. 2005.)

Figure 4.2. Vowel insertion.

4.6 Romanization
While the writing conventions of hiragana, katakana, and kanji are taught

89
in Japanese schools, those of rōmaji normally are not. Therefore, deviant
ROMANIZATION is commonly observed in writings of both native and
non-native speakers of Japanese. As shown in Table 4.3, two
Romanization systems are in general use: the HEPBURN SYSTEM (HEBON-
SHIKI) and the CABINET ORDINANCE SYSTEM (KUNREI-SHIKI). The
Hepburn System, commonly used in general writing, was invented by the
American missionary James Curtis Hepburn (1815–1911) and is based on
English writing conventions. The Cabinet Ordinance System, which
evolved from the Japanese syllabaries proposed in 1885, was established
by the Japanese government in 1937 and has been used less frequently,
mainly for scholastic writing because of its internal systematicity.
Table 4.3 Romanization systems.
Hepburn system Cabinet ordinance system

あ a i u e o a i u e o

か ka ki ku ke ko ka ki ku ke ko

が ga gi gu ge go ga gi gu ge go

さ sa shi su se so sa si su se so

ざ za ji zu ze zo za zi zu ze zo

た ta chi tsu te to ta ti tu te to

だ da ji zu de do da di du de do

な na ni nu ne no na ni nu ne no

は ha hi fu he ho ha hi hu he ho

ば ba bi bu be bo ba bi bu be bo

ま ma mi mu me mo ma mi mu me mo

や ya yu yo ya yu yo

90
 ら ra ri ru re ro ra ri ru re ro

わ wa wa

ん n/m n

きゃ kya kyu kyo kya kyu kyo

ぎゃ gya gyu gyo gya gyu gyo

しゃ sha shu sho sya syu syo

じゃ ja ju jo zya zyu zyo

ちゃ cha chu cho tya tyu tyo

にゃ nya nyu nyo nya nyu nyo

ひゃ hya hyu hyo hya hyu hyo

びゃ bya byu byo bya byu byo

みゃ mya myu myo mya myu myo

りゃ rya ryu ryo rya ryu ryo

Long consonants are written by repeating the consonant – as in ippo

‘one step’, itten ‘one point’, ikkai ‘one time’ – or the first letter of the
consonant as in isshun (Hepburn) or issyun (Cabinet Ordinance) ‘one
moment’. For the long /t/ when palatalized before /i/, the Hepburn system
allows an exception, representing it as tch: gatchi ‘agreement’, not
*gacchi. (* indicates that the expression is conventionally unacceptable.)
The Cabinet Ordinance System does not make such an exception, writing
tti, as in gatti.
Because the English language does not distinguish between short and
long vowels, neither did Hepburn when he made his transcriptions in
Japanese: e.g. both yoko 横 ‘side’ and yōkō 陽光 ‘sunlight’ are written as
yoko. Most Japanese–English dictionaries use the Hepburn system with

91
vowel length marking.
The hiragana writing convention should not be followed in
Romanization: *koko ha (ここは), *koko wo (ここを), *koko he (ここ
へ). Instead, these examples should be written as koko wa, koko o, koko e.
Romanization is basically for those who do not read hiragana; therefore,
the use of a hiragana convention that deviates from the actual
pronunciation does not make sense.
In hiragana, ō is frequently written as おう (e.g. 東京 とうきょう,
Tōkyō), and ē as えい (e.g. 英語 えいご, ēgo ‘English’). This
discrepancy between written and spoken language is the result of historical
changes. While ēgo can still be carefully pronounced today as eigo, no one
calls the city *Toukyou, however carefully it is articulated. Therefore, the
long o must be transcribed as ō, not as ou. An exception to this rule occurs
when o and u belong to different parts of a word: e.g. in omo-u, the u is a
marker of the non-past tense (see Section 9.2). In such a case, the word
should be transcribed with ou. The おう sequence in a proper name is
sometimes written as oh: e.g. Ohta (太田). As for ei, some people write it
more faithfully to the pronunciation as ē, but this book employs the
slightly more conservative spelling of ei.
The moraic nasal (see Section 3.3) is invariably written as n in the
Cabinet Ordinance System, but in the original Hepburn System it is written
as m when followed by a p, b, or m: e.g. sampo ‘taking a walk’, shimbun
‘newspaper’, jimmyaku ‘personal connections’. However, this book
employs a modified version of the Hepburn System in which the moraic
nasal is always written as n.
1 Ancient Japanese people were aware of the existence of kanji as early as
the second and first centuries BC. However, they considered kanji merely
decorative patterns, not understanding their genuine significance (Atsuji
1994: 210–13).
2 Kanji is often characterized as LOGOGRAPHIC (logo = word); that is,
each kanji represents a word, rather than an idea. When used for Chinese,
kanji can be logographic. However, for recording Japanese, considering
them as ideographs is deemed more appropriate. That is, the same kanji
frequently appears in different, but conceptually related, words, e.g. 食堂
shokudō ‘eating place’, 食べる taberu ‘to eat’.
3 Kanji were introduced to Japan during three separate periods – the fifth
to sixth centuries, the seventh to eighth centuries and the twelfth to

92
seventeenth centuries. Their on readings differed each time, reflecting
different dialects of the reigning dynasties of the time, referred to as GO-
ON (the fifth to sixth centuries), KAN-ON (the seventh to eighth centuries)
and TŌSŌ-ON (the twelfth to seventeenth centuries). Consequently, some
kanji have more than one on reading. For example, 行 is read as /gyō/ as
in gyōretsu 行列 ‘a line/procession’ (go-on), as /kō/ as in kōdō 行動
‘action’ (kan-on), and as /an/ as in angya 行脚 ‘pilgrimage’ (tōsō-on).
4 Before the invention of the camera, 撮 was used for picking up
something with one’s fingers.
5 The use of kanji for their sound values was also practiced in ancient
China, e.g. in the translation of Sanskrit documents. However, such usage
was highly limited, mostly to recording of proper nouns (Kokugogakkai
1980: 846).
6 Gana in Man’yōgana was derived from kana by sequential voicing (see
Section 3.7). Kana 仮名 originally meant a ‘tentative character’.
7 The sound value of 樫 could have been /katsi/ or /kachi/. See Subsection
1.2.2.
8 The earliest sound chart of this kind appeared in 1079; the organization
of sounds was derived from the sound chart of Sanskrit (Komatsu 1981:
36, 52–53).
9 The set of two dots for voicing is called a DAKUTEN (daku ‘voicing’ +
ten ‘dot’); the small circle is called a HAN-DAKUTEN (han ‘half’ +
dakuten). The latter does not make sense unless one is taking historical
changes into consideration (see Section 3.1). A han-dakuten derives the
consonant /p/ from the consonant /h/, both of which are voiceless.
10 This style of writing is called KANBUN ‘Sinico-Japanese’. In kanbun
prose, kanji are arranged according to the conventions of literary Chinese
grammar.
11 FUKUZAWA Yukichi (1834–1901), the founder of Keio University,
translated “society” as ningen kōsai 人間交際 ‘human association’
(Yanabu 1982: 6–7).
12 Maejima founded in 1873 Mainichi Hiragana Shinbun, a newspaper
written exclusively in hiragana.
13 Today, compulsory education in Japan is nine years at primary and
middle schools.
14 Traditionally, following Chinese, Japanese has been written vertically
from right to left. Most texts were written in this way until the end of

93
World War II. Since then, an increasing numbers have been written
horizontally, excepting newspapers, magazines, and Japanese language
textbooks (Satake 1988: 318).
15 The newspaper data are derived from three newspapers issued in
January–December 1966; those of magazines are from ninety magazines
published in January–December 1956.
16 In some older loan words, /i/, rather than /u/, was added after a /k/, e.g.
ケーキ kēki ‘cake’, ジャッキ jakki ‘jack (to jack up)’, ステーキ sutēki
‘steak’, デッキ dekki ‘deck of a ship/train’.
17 Strike is written in two ways: one with /u/, ストライク, meaning a

‘strike in a baseball game’, and the other with /i/, ストライキ, meaning a
‘labor strike’.

94
Part II Lexicon

95
 5 Vocabulary
5.1 Word categories
The Japanese vocabulary consists of NATIVE JAPANESE words, SINO-
JAPANESE words (borrowings from Chinese), FOREIGN LOAN WORDS
(borrowings from languages other than Chinese), and combinations of
them (i.e. HYBRID words). Chinese loan words that were incorporated into
Japanese prior to Japan’s regular contact with China are so deeply
integrated that they are likely categorized today as native words, e.g. kiku
‘chrysanthemum’, uma ‘horse’, ume ‘Japanese apricot’ (Komatsu 2001:
34–35). The vocabulary of Man’yōshū (‘A Collection of Ten Thousand
Leaves’), written circa 670–770 AD, consists of 99.6 percent native
Japanese words. Massive waves of borrowings from Chinese then
commenced. Genji monogatari (‘The Tale of Genji’) (c. 1000) contains up
to 8.8 percent Sino-Japanese words, and Tsurezuregusa (‘Essays in
Idleness’) (c. 1330) 28.1 percent (Miyajima 1971).
Native words form the basic stratum of Japanese vocabulary, e.g. yama
‘mountain’, hana ‘flower’, tori ‘bird’, aruku ‘to walk’, ugoku ‘to move’,
akai ‘red’, samui ‘cold’. Sino-Japanese words are conceived of as more
sophisticated, like Latinate words in English (compare get and acquire).
Texts with high concentrations of Sino-Japanese words impress native
speakers as being more formal, decorous, and dignified in tone, while
those full of native words are considered more informal and amiable.
Although Sino-Japanese words were borrowed in ancient times, most
native speakers today can still distinguish them from native Japanese
words because of their clearly differing sound patterns. For example, the
second mora (see Section 3.3) of a two-mora on reading of a kanji is
restricted to /i/, /u/, /ki/, /ku/, /chi/, /tsu/, and /n/ (Nomura 1988: 334).
(1)
/i/ 開 kai ‘open’, 明 mei ‘bright’, 生 sei ‘life’

/u/ 同 dou /dō/ ‘same’,1 幸 kou /kō/ ‘happiness’, 有 yuu /yū/

‘exist’

/ki/ 域 iki ‘limits’, 敵 teki ‘enemy’, 力 riki ‘power’

/ku/ 学 gaku ‘study’, 白 haku ‘white’, 格 kaku ‘rank’

/chi/ 罰 bachi ‘punishment’, 吉 kichi ‘fortune’, 七 shichi ‘seven’

96
 /tsu/ 物 butsu ‘thing’, 月 getsu ‘moon’, 発 hatsu ‘depart’

/n/ 金 kin ‘gold’, 新 shin ‘new’, 天 ten ‘heaven’

Foreign words convey a nuance of refinement and modernity,

particularly favored in the fashion and technology fields. There are many
doublets and even triplets that express essentially identical meanings,
differing only in stylistic flavor, as in (2).
(2)
Native S-J Foreign

‘cancellation’ torikeshi kaiyaku kyanseru

‘happy’ shiawase kōfuku happī

‘home’ uchi katei hōmu

‘hotel’ yado(ya) ryokan hoteru

‘lunch’ hirugohan chūshoku ranchi

Examples of hybrid words are listed in (3).

(3)
Native + S-J natsu ‘summer’ + fuku → ‘summer
‘clothes’ apparel’

S-J + native kan ‘can’ + kiri ‘cut’ → ‘can opener’

Native + nama ‘raw’ + hamu ‘ham’ → ‘uncured ham’

foreign

Foreign + kōhī ‘coffee’ + mame ‘bean’ → ‘coffee beans’

native

S-J + foreign yasai ‘vegetable’ + sarada → ‘vegetable

‘salad’ salad’

Foreign + S-J supīdo ‘speed’ + ihan → ‘speed

‘violation’ violation’

97
 Until the Meiji Restoration (1867–68), Sino-Japanese words had never
dominated Japanese vocabulary (Morita 1989: 73). However, as discussed
in Section 4.2, during the Meiji period a huge inventory of words became
necessary in order to translate Western concepts. Compared with native
Japanese, Sino-Japanese word formation rules are more adaptive and
productive; therefore, an enormous Sino-Japanese vocabulary was coined.
When counting distinct words that appeared in magazines published in
1994, Sino-Japanese words surpassed native Japanese words (Ito 2007:
12), a subject that will be discussed in detail below.
The term foreign loan words normally refers to borrowings from
Western languages, although they sometimes include Korean and other
Asian languages; these borrowings are typically written in katakana.
Japan’s contact with the West started with the shipwreck of Portuguese
merchants in 1543, which was followed by a Dutch ship in 1600. Early
borrowings from these languages are exemplified in (4).
(4) a. From Portuguese
kappa ‘coat’ karuta ‘playing cards’

pan ‘bread’ tabako ‘tobacco’

b. From Dutch
buriki ‘tin’ garasu ‘glass’

kaban ‘bag’ randoseru ‘backpack for school’

In the early nineteenth century, contacts with Great Britain, France, and
Russia were established. Then, in 1853, Commodore Matthew Perry of the
United States arrived and forced Japan to commence diplomatic and
commercial relationships. In 1867, increasing pressure from Western
powers ended more than 200 years of the Tokugawa shogunate
government, leading to the restoration of the emperor to power. During the
years that followed, an unprecedented number of translations from
English, French, German, and Russian into Japanese enriched and changed
the Japanese language, not only in vocabulary but also in sentence
structure (see, for example, Sections 11.3 and 12.6).
Ito (2007: 11) analyzes two survey reports by Kokuritsu Kokugo
Kenkyūjo (The National Institute for Japanese Language and Linguistics)
on the vocabularies of 90 magazines published during 1956 (438,135 total

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word count; 39,930 distinct words) and those of 70 magazines published
during 1994 (word count of 738,377; 59,222 distinct words). The
percentages in (5) and (6) are adjusted slightly from the original because
Ito employs a different categorization system.
(5) Total word occurrences (%)
Native S-J Foreign Hybrid

1956 53.7 41.3 4.7 0.3

1994 41.6 45.9 10.5 2.0

(6) Distinct words (%)
Native S-J Foreign Hybrid

1956 36.7 47.3 9.8 6.2

1994 27.0 35.2 31.5 6.3

Significant changes in vocabulary composition occurred during these

four decades. In 1956, although distinct native words were fewer in
number than Sino-Japanese words, they surpassed Sino-Japanese words in
total word count. That is, native words formed a more basic vocabulary
stratum, making it necessary to use them repeatedly in Japanese writing. In
1994, however, Sino-Japanese words exceeded native Japanese words not
only in the distinct word count, but also in total frequency of use.
The growth of foreign vocabulary has been astonishing. In 1994, almost
one third of distinct words were of foreign origin, surpassing native
Japanese words and approaching the Sino-Japanese stratum. However, that
high volume of distinct words constitutes only 10.5 percent of the entire
word count. That is, although significant, foreign words are not
fundamental, and are thus not used as repeatedly as native or Sino-
Japanese words.
As with Sino-Japanese words, the structure of English loan vocabulary
is considered by native speakers of Japanese to be highly versatile,
encouraging them to derive many English-like words such as in (7).
(7)
abauto (< about) = perfunctory, e.g. abauto na hito
‘perfunctory person’

99
 afutā (< after = after-sales service, product support
sābisu service)

furī daiaru (< free = toll-free telephone number

dial)

furītā (< freeter) = part-time worker

ōdā (< order = final order at a restaurant or bar

sutoppu stop) (closing time)

sābisu (< service) = complimentary service (without

charge), free gift

sukinshippu (< = bonding

skinship)

5.2 Word classes

5.2.1 Nouns
A defining characteristic of a NOUN is that it can function as the subject or
object of a clause (these terms are explained in detail in Sections 7.1 and
7.2). Nouns form the most dynamic word class, as new nouns are coined
on a daily basis. They are subcategorized into COMMON NOUNS and
PROPER NOUNS (i.e. names of people, places, and things). When a
common and a proper noun are combined, English is inconsistent in
relative order, e.g. Mono Lake vs. Lake Tahoe, Mammoth Mountain vs.
Mount Denali. In Japanese, by contrast, the proper noun always precedes
the common noun, e.g. Aoyama-dōri ‘Aoyama Street’, Sumida-gawa
‘Sumida River’, Shimogamo-jinja ‘Shimogamo Shrine’, Iwai-shima ‘Iwai
Island’, Takao-san ‘Mount Takao’.
In Japanese, the singular–plural distinction is not obligatory and
normally not specified. When specification of the number is significant, it
can be expressed with numeral quantifiers (see Subsection 5.2.7).
When a noun modifies another noun, the GENITIVE (≈ possessive)
particle no is inserted, e.g. nihon ‘Japan’ no kuruma ‘car’ = ‘Japanese car’,
watashi ‘I’ no kuruma = ‘my car’, isha ‘physician’ no Nobuko ‘Nobuko,
the physician’.
VERBAL NOUNS, a special category, designate actions or events rather

100
than persons or things. As nouns, they can function as the subject or object
of clauses. However, unlike ordinary nouns, they can form a verb when
combined with the verb suru ‘do’. A vast majority of verbal nouns are
Sino-Japanese in origin (e.g. (8a)), but virtually all English verbs can
function as verbal nouns (e.g. (8b)). Native Japanese nouns are only rarely
used as such (8c).
(8) a. Sino-Japanese
hōkoku suru ‘to report’

kenkyū suru ‘to study’

ryōri suru ‘to cook’

sanpo suru ‘to take a walk’

b. Foreign
mēru suru ‘to email’

ofā suru ‘to offer’

ritaia suru ‘to retire’

sēbu suru ‘to save’

c. Native
hirune suru ‘to take a nap’

itoma suru ‘to leave’

koi suru ‘to love’

kokoro suru ‘to attend to’

5.2.2 Verbs
As do verbs of many of the world’s languages, Japanese verbs
CONJUGATE, i.e. change forms according to language-specific
grammatical categories. (Details of conjugation will be discussed in
Section 6.1.) When analyzing verb conjugations, it is necessary to
recognize the invariant part (called the STEM) from the variant parts. The

101
stems of Japanese verbs end either in a consonant (e.g. yom- as in yom-u
‘read’) or in a vowel (e.g. mi- as in mi-ru ‘see’). Japanese verbs have
customarily been categorized into three groups: u-verbs (consonant-ending
stems), ru-verbs (vowel-ending stems), and two irregular verbs (i.e. kuru
‘come’ and suru ‘do’). According to Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyūjo (1964:
64), approximately 63 percent of verbs are u-verbs, 32 percent are ru-
verbs, and the remaining 5 percent includes variations and compounds of
the irregular verbs.
There is also a category of words that are collectively referred to as the
COPULA, i.e. linking words between the subject and the predicate (see
Section 7.1). In English, be and its variations in tense, person, and number
(am, are, be, been, is, was, were) serve this purpose. In Japanese, its plain
forms are da (non-past tense) and datta (past tense), while its polite forms
are desu (non-past tense) and deshita (past tense). There is no singular and
plural variation. The tenses are explained in Chapter 9, and the plain–
polite stylistic distinction in Chapter 20.
5.2.3 Adjectives
Two types of words in Japanese can be categorized as adjectives, i.e. their
primary functions are to modify nouns (ATTRIBUTIVE USE) and to express
the state of affairs of the entity designated by the grammatical subject
(PREDICATIVE USE) – see (9) for an example of each. Like verbs, but
unlike nouns, adjectives can be modified by a degree adverb, e.g. totemo
‘very’.
(9) a. Attributive
Omoshiroi hon o katta.

interesting book ACC bought

‘(I) bought an interesting book.’

b. Predicative
Kono hon wa omoshiroi.

this book TOP is.interesting

‘This book is interesting.’

The first type is referred to as I-ADJECTIVES because their dictionary

102
forms end in the vowel /i/, e.g. akarui ‘bright’, kurai ‘dark’. I-adjectives
conjugate like verbs, which will be discussed in Section 6.3. The inventory
of i-adjectives is surprisingly meager, and the formation of new i-
adjectives is not productive. Among the 15,712 distinct words appearing in
the selected 13 magazines published during 1953–54, only 232 (1.5%)
were i-adjectives (Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyūjo 1958: 81).
The second type of adjective is the NA-ADJECTIVE, so called because na
(derived from the copula) is inserted when this type of adjective modifies a
noun. In their predicative use as well, the copula is necessary, as is the
case with Japanese nouns and English adjectives (see (10)). Thus, while i-
adjectives act more like verbs (i.e. they conjugate), na-adjectives act more
like nouns. Because of this, they are sometimes called NOMINAL
ADJECTIVES or ADJECTIVAL NOUNS.
(10) a. Attributive
Benri na jisho o katta.

useful COP dictionary ACC bought

‘(I) bought a useful dictionary.’

b. Predicative
Kono jisho wa benri da.

this dictionary TOP useful COP

‘This dictionary is useful.’

In contrast to the unproductive nature of i-adjectives, virtually any

foreign word that is semantically appropriate can be used as a na-adjective.
Approximately 80 percent of na-adjectives are Sino-Japanese or foreign
(Tamamura 1975: 93).
(11) a. Native Japanese
suki na tabemono

favorite food

shizuka na heya

103
 quiet room
b. Sino-Japanese
kodoku na hito

lonely person

kirei na kuruma

beautiful car
c. Foreign
shinikaru na iken

cynical opinion

rīzunaburu na nedan

reasonable price

5.2.4 Adverbs
ADVERBS form a heterogeneous category in form as well as in meaning.
Typically, they modify verbs, adjectives, other adverbs, or the entire
sentence.
(12) a. Modifying a verb
Watashi wa yoku warau.

I TOP often laugh

‘I laugh often.’
b. Modifying an adjective
Sora ga totemo [utsukushii/kirei da].

sky NOM very beautiful

‘The sky is very beautiful.’

c. Modifying another adverb

104
 Watashi wa hotondo itsumo kaidan o tsukau.

I TOP almost always stair ACC use

‘I almost always use the stairs.’

d. Modifying a sentence
Tabun shiken wa yasashii darō.

probably examination TOP easy COP.CNJ

‘Probably, the examination will be easy.’

5.2.5 Pronouns
The English first- and second-person pronouns, I/me and you, are like
mathematical variables. They refer simply to the speaker and the
addressee, respectively. The third-person pronouns – he, she, they –
contain more information, encoding (in the singular) the gender of the
REFERENT (i.e. the entities that are referred to by these expressions).
Japanese first- and second-person pronouns are much richer in
information, designating the speaker’s gender and sometimes his/her age
group, some aspects of the relationship between the INTERLOCUTORS (i.e.
conversation participants), and/or the formality of the speech situation. For
the first-person pronoun, (13) shows the words which are commonly
employed.
(13) a.
watakushi gender-neutral, formal
b.
watashi When used by a male, the speech situation is formal;
when by a female, it can be formal or casual.
c.
atashi feminine, casual
d.
boku masculine, casual
e.
ore masculine, very casual
f.
boku-chan used by a male infant

105
 The use of the first-person pronoun is often unnecessary for
communication and, therefore, customarily avoided in Japanese. Explicitly
translating into Japanese each occurrence of I/me, as in (14b), will result in
a grammatical but culturally unbearable sentence. It sounds so egocentric,
like “Me, me, me!” in English. A more natural translation would be (14c).
(14) a. My friend told me that if I read that book, it would have a great impact on
b.
Watashi no tomodachi wa watashi ni, moshi

I GEN friend TOP I to if

sono hon o yondara, sore wa watashi

that book ACC if.read that TOP I

o ataeru darō to itta.

ACC give COP.CNJ QUOT said

c.
Tomodachi wa moshi sono hon o

friend TOP if that book ACC

shōgeki o ukeru darō to itta.

impact ACC receive COP.CNJ QUOT said

‘[Lit. (Literally)] (A) friend told (me) if (I) read that book, (I) would receive a g

The second-person pronoun is even more restricted than the first, its use
possibly creating the impression of pointing to or at the addressee with a
finger and saying “YOU!” Again, in most contexts, explicitly specifying
the addressee as a referent is unnecessary. When clarification is desired,
the addressee’s name (e.g. X-san), his/her title (e.g. gichō ‘chairperson’,
sensei ‘teacher’, shachō ‘company president’), or a kinship term (e.g.
okāsan ‘mother’ when talking to the mother of one’s friend) is used.
Several variations of the second-person pronoun are listed in (15).
(15) a.
anata gender-neutral
b.

106
 anta gender-neutral, casual
c.
otaku gender-neutral, casual or polite according to the context
d.
kimi masculine, casual
e.
omae masculine, very casual and/or intimate
f.
temē masculine, vulgar

Japanese third-person pronouns include kare (masculine, singular),

kanojo (feminine, singular), karera (masculine, plural), and kanojora
(feminine, plural). However, the Japanese language did not spontaneously
develop such pronouns. Rather, they were coined only as translational
equivalents of those in European languages. Yanabu (1982: 197) reports
that Haruma wage (a Dutch–Japanese dictionary compiled in the
eighteenth century) included kare, a distal demonstrative (that over there;
see Chapter 26), as a translation of the masculine third-person singular
pronoun, whereas the feminine counterpart was translated as a compound
word consisting of kare and onna ‘woman’. This word was pronounced
kano onna ‘that woman’ until the late nineteenth century when it evolved
to the present-day pronunciation kanojo.
Derived from demonstratives, Japanese third-person pronouns strongly
imply the presence of the speaker/writer as the central entity relative to
which another entity is located. Because of this emphasis on the presence
of the speaker/writer, third-person pronouns are rarely used in the
composing of Japanese legal documents and newspaper articles, which
employ objective writing styles.
Unlike European languages Japanese pronouns can be modified in
various ways. In (16a), kono watashi ‘this I’ emphasizes the speaker, ‘I
myself’.
(16) a.
Gichō ga kono watashi o kōnin ni shimei
shita

chairperson NOM this I ACC successor as appointed

‘[Lit.] The chairperson appointed this me as (his/her) successor.’

107
 ‘The chairperson appointed me as (his/her) successor.’
b.
Waratte iru anata wa totemo miryokuteki da.

smiling you TOP very charming COP

‘[Lit.] Smiling you are very charming.’

‘You are very charming when smiling.’

c.
Watashi wa kyūkachū no [kare/kanojo] o

I TOP during.vacation GEN [he/she] ACC

‘[Lit.] I visited him/her, who was on leave of absence.’

‘I visited him/her during his/her leave of absence.’

5.2.6 Particles
PARTICLES are short (usually one or two moras) dependent elements,
unable to stand independently in a sentence. They are subcategorized into
four types. CASE PARTICLES, the first type, are like English prepositions;
however, they follow the noun upon which they depend. They are,
therefore, sometimes called POSTPOSITIONS. The term CASE refers here to
a feature that designates the syntactic or semantic function of the
constituent with respect to the predicate. (Case particles will be discussed
in detail in Chapter 7.) Members of the second type are called SENTENCE-
FINAL PARTICLES. They occur at the end of a sentence, e.g. ne, sa, wa, yo.
(Chapter 23 is devoted to dealing with them.) The third type, ADVERBIAL
PARTICLES, occur after a noun, adverb, or case particle. This type includes
dake ‘only’, made ‘even’, mo ‘also’, sae ‘even’, and shika ‘only’.
(17) a.
Midori dake kita.

Midori only came

‘Only Midori came.’

b.
Midori [made/sae] kita.

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 Midori even came

‘Even Midori came.’

c.
Midori shika konakatta.

Midori only came.not

‘Nobody but Midori came.’

The fourth type is CONJUNCTIVE PARTICLES, e.g. ga ‘and/but’, kara

‘because’, node ‘because’, noni ‘although’, to ‘and’.
(18) a.
Guai ga warui node shusseki shimasendeshita

health.condition NOM bad because attendance did.not

‘Because my health was bad, I didn’t attend.’

b.
Guai ga warui noni shusseki shimashita

health.condition NOM bad though attendance did

‘Although my health was bad, I attended.’

5.2.7 Numeral classifiers

In English, numbers can be added directly to countable nouns, but in
Japanese such specification of quantity requires a NUMERAL CLASSIFIER,
according to the shape and other characteristics of the noun’s referent.
(19) a.
nin for people e.g. kodomo 3-nin ‘three children’
b.
tō for large animals e.g. ushi 3-tō ‘three cows’
c.
hiki for small animals or fish e.g. neko 2-hiki ‘two cats’
d.
wa for birds e.g. suzume 2-wa ‘two sparrows’
e.

109
 mai for flat objects e.g. CD 3-mai ‘three CDs’
f.
hon for long objects e.g. ninjin 2-hon ‘two carrots’
g.
dai for cubic objects e.g. kuruma 2-dai ‘two cars’

5.2.8 Ideophones
One of the defining characteristics of human language is arbitrariness.
That is, there is no logical or natural relationship between the word and its
meaning. For example, there is no reason to call the planet we live on the
globe (English) or chikyū (Japanese). The association is a mere
convention, and, therefore, we must learn each word on its own. However,
some vocabulary in human languages is not so arbitrary. Although vaguely
and sometimes synesthetically,2 we can intuitively perceive some
correspondences between sound and meaning. The vocabulary words
created as a result of such experience are called IDEOPHONES (ideo = idea,
phone = sound). Japanese is well known for its rich inventory of
ideophones.
The clearest ideophone subtype is onomatopoeia, which mimic actual
sounds. However, such a direct correspondence between sound and
meaning is occasionally extended to visual, glossal (i.e. taste), tactile (i.e.
touching), and other kinds of sensations and impressions.
(20) a. Auditory
wanwan ‘bow- kokekokkō ‘cock-a-doodle-
wow’ doo’

piyopiyo ‘chirp’ nyā ‘mew’

b. Visual
meramera ‘flare up’ pikapika ‘glitter’

pechanko ‘flattened/crushed’ hirahira ‘flutter’

c. Glossal
sakusaku ‘crisp’ hirihiri ‘spicy hot’

assari ‘simple’ kotteri ‘rich/heavy’

110
 d. Tactile
subesube ‘smooth’ zarazara ‘rough’

nebaneba ‘sticky’ bichabicha ‘soggy’

Ideophones often reflect universal SOUND SYMBOLISM. Voiceless

consonants in expressive vocabulary are often associated with smallness
and low intensity, whereas voiced consonants are associated with largeness
and high intensity: e.g. kirakira (twinkling star) vs. giragira (sizzling sun);
korokoro (rolling of a ball) vs. gorogoro (rolling of a rock). High front
vowels like /i/ are associated with smallness, lightness, brightness,
sharpness, etc., whereas low vowels like /a/ are associated with largeness,
heaviness, dullness, vigor, etc.: e.g. pichipichi (tight) vs. dabudabu (loose,
sagging); shitoshito (gentle rain) vs. zāzā (downpour). Long sounds are
associated with sustained activities; repetitions of short sounds are
associated with repetitive actions: e.g. bōbō (burn vigorously) vs.
pachipachi (clapping).3
English has a large number of verbs, many of which express both the
action and the manner in which the action is performed. Japanese, by
contrast, has fewer such verbs; the manner is instead typically expressed
by an ideophone, as the following contrasts demonstrate.
(21)
English Japanese

Manner ± Action Manner Action

chuckle kusukusu warau

guffaw geragera warau

grin niyatto warau

smile nikoniko warau

howl wanwan naku

sob shikushiku naku

weep samezameto naku

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5.3 Word frequencies
As mentioned earlier, Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyūjo conducted a survey
and analyzed a corpus of Japanese texts sampled from 70 magazines
published during 1994.4 A total of 738,377 instances of 59,222 distinct,
independent words were identified. (Also analyzed were 327,240 instances
of 175 distinct dependent words (e.g. particles) which are not included in
the discussion here.) Because these 70 magazines were carefully selected
from a wide variety of interests (e.g. art, automobiles, computers, cooking,
the economy, electronics, fashion, finance, games, gardening, graphics,
history, hobbies, home-making, literature, medicine, politics, science,
sports, travel), the results can be considered representative of the
vocabulary size of eloquent, adult native speakers.
In the survey, the most frequently occurring words were the following:
(22)
1. suru ‘do’, 15,981 times 6. san ‘three’, 7,910 times

2. ichi ‘one’, 11,299 times 7. go ‘five’, 6,716 times

3. ni ‘two’, 8,988 times 8. man ‘ten thousand’, 6,192

times

4. iru ‘exist, stay, be’, 8,642 9. nijū ‘twenty’, 5,888 times

times

5. jū ‘ten’, 8,239 times 10. iu ‘say’, 5854 times

These ten words constitute up to 12 percent of the total word count.

When we consider the top 20 words, the coverage extends to 18 percent,
and the top 30, 22 percent. Table 5.1 and Figure 5.1 provide the word
totals ranked by frequency of use and their corresponding percentages
based upon the 738,377 total word count.
Table 5.1 Word frequency of use (%).
Top 40 words 25 Top 500 51 Top 6,000 82

Top 50 28 Top 600 54 Top 7,000 84

Top 60 30 Top 700 55 Top 8,000 85

112
 Top 70 32 Top 800 57 Top 9,000 86

Top 80 33 Top 900 58 Top 10,000 87

Top 90 34 Top 1,000 60 Top 20,000 93

Top 100 35 Top 2,000 69 Top 30,000 96

Top 200 42 Top 3,000 74 Top 40,000 97

Top 300 46 Top 4,000 78 Top 50,000 99

Top 400 49 Top 5,000 80 Top 59,222 100

Figure 5.1. Word frequency of use.

Suppose that learners of Japanese acquire vocabulary in the order of
usage frequency. The first 500 words will enable them to recognize
approximately 50 percent of words appearing in common texts. When they
learn 3,000 distinct words, their recognition rates rise to 75 percent.
Certainly it depends on the text type, but the 80 percent recognition rate
enabled by 5,000 words may be sufficient for most casual reading.
By contrast, 42,528 of 59,222 distinct words (72%) occurred no more
than three times in the entire corpus.
(23) a. 28,866 words (49%) occurred only once, e.g. aikurushii ‘charming,
lovely’, inishie ‘ancient times’.

113
 b. 9,072 words (15%) occurred only twice, e.g. yūzora ‘evening sky’,
warifuru ‘allot’.
c. 4,590 words (8%) occurred only three times, e.g. enso ‘chlorine’,
ōhi ‘empress’.
Therefore, the lack of such a large vocabulary is unlikely to hinder the
reading comprehension of most texts.
1 This vowel sequence is pronounced as a long /o/, but the old
pronunciation /ou/ is maintained in hiragana orthography.
2 Synesthesia is a condition in which one type of sensation (e.g. sound)
evokes sensation of different modality (e.g. color).
3 For universal sound symbolism, see articles in Hinton et al. 1994 and
especially Ohala 1994.
4 www.ninjal.ac.jp/archives/goityosa/goihyo_frq_ver.1.0.txt.

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 6 Word structure
6.1 Verb conjugation
As time passes, all languages change. Such historical changes make it
difficult, if not impossible, to enumerate all Japanese verb conjugation
forms in a coherent, straightforward paradigm.1 One possibility is
provided below. Although it deviates from the traditional grammar and all
hitherto proposed analyses, in formulating it I have striven for simplicity
and consistency, while sacrificing reflection on historical change.
I posit ten conjugation categories, beginning with the NEGATIVE form,
indicated by the negative auxiliary -(a)nai. The ADVERBIAL form
resembles the English gerund (-ing form),2 as it can stand as a noun, and is
normally followed by some auxiliary, e.g. -(i)masu, which simultaneously
indicates politeness as well as the non-past tense (see Chapter 9 for a
discussion of tense). The CONCLUSIVE form indicates the non-past tense;
dictionaries utilize it as a basis for the ordering of entries. The
HYPOTHETICAL form appears in a conditional construction (see Chapter
18). The IMPERATIVE form can be utilized for issuing commands,
although it sounds very coarse, and is, therefore, rarely used in modern
colloquial Japanese. With the VOLITIONAL form, the speaker encourages
the addressee and/or the speaker him/herself to perform the action
designated by the verb stem. Traditional grammar, however, does not
recognize this form in its conjugation paradigm. The volitional form of a
u-verb is traditionally to be derived from the MIZEN-KEI ‘irrealis form’
(i.e. the negative form without -nai) followed by the auxiliary -u, which
underwent sound change during the Edo period (1603–1868) (Suzuki
1977: 215), e.g. kak-a-u ‘I shall write/let’s write’ became kak-ō. There is
no explanation as to why yō is attached in the case of ru-verbs (e.g. tabe-
yō) and irregular verbs (ko-yō, shi-yō). Unlike u-verbs, deriving yō from
ya-u has no historical precedent. As such, this chapter posits the volitional
as a separate verb form. The TE-FORM will be explained shortly; the TA-
FORM indicates the past tense. The CAUSATIVE form will be discussed in
Chapter 11, and the PASSIVE form in Chapter 12.
(1) U-verbs, e.g. kak- ‘write’3
a.
Negative kak-anai ‘not write’
b.
Adverbial kak-i ‘writing’

115
 c. Conclusive kak-u ‘write’
d.
Hypothetical kak-eba ‘if (someone) writes’
e.
Imperative kak-e ‘Write!’
f.
Volitional kak-ō ‘I shall write, let’s write’
g.
Te-form see below
h.
Ta-form see below ‘wrote’
i.
Causative kak-aseru ‘make (someone) write’
j.
Passive kak-areru ‘be written’

(2) Ru-verbs, e.g. tabe- ‘eat’

a.
Negative tabe-nai ‘not eat’
b.
Adverbial tabe ‘eating’
c.
Conclusive tabe-ru ‘eat’
d.
Hypothetical tabe-reba ‘if (someone) eats’
e.
Imperative tabe-ro ‘Eat!’
f.
Volitional tabe-yō ‘I shall eat, let’s eat’
g.
Te-form tabe-te
h.
Ta-form tabe-ta ‘ate’
i.
Causative tabe-saseru ‘make (someone) eat’
j.
Passive tabe-rareru ‘be eaten’

116
(3) K- ‘come’
a.
Negative k-onai ‘not come’
b.
Adverbial k-i ‘coming’
c.
Conclusive k-uru ‘come’
d.
Hypothetical k-ureba ‘if (someone) comes’
e.
Imperative k-oi ‘Come!’
f.
Volitional k-oyō ‘I shall come, let’s come’
g.
Te-form k-ite
h.
Ta-form k-ita ‘came’
i.
Causative k-osaseru ‘make (someone) come’
j.
Passive k-orareru (ungrammatical in English)

(4) S- ‘do (something)’4

a.
Negative sh-inai ‘not do’
b.
Adverbial sh-i ‘(someone) will do’
c.
Conclusive s-uru ‘do’
d.
Hypothetical s-ureba ‘if (someone) does’
e.
Imperative sh-iro ‘Do!’
f.
Volitional sh-iyō ‘I shall do, let’s do’
g.
Te-form sh-ite

117
 h.
Ta-form sh-ita ‘did’
i.
Causative s-aseru ‘make (someone) do’
j.
Passive s-areru ‘be done’5

The u-verb ar-u ‘exist/be’ (normally used in modern Japanese for an

inanimate entity) is irregular; its negative form is nai, not *ar-anai. Like
ar-u, the stem of a considerable number of u-verbs ends in the consonant
/r/, e.g. ir-u ‘need’, hashir-u ‘run’, kaer-u ‘go home’, kir-u ‘cut’, mamor-u
‘protect’, nor-u ‘ride’, shir-u ‘know’, tor-u ‘take’. When presented in the
conclusive form, such verbs cannot be distinguished from ru-verbs. In
order to identify the stem boundary, another form is needed: for example,
ir-anai (the u-verb iru) ‘do not need’ vs. i-nai (the ru-verb iru) ‘do not
exist’; kir-anai (the u-verb kiru) ‘do not cut’ vs. ki-nai (the ru-verb kiru)
‘do not wear’.
The te-form is also excluded in the traditional conjugation paradigm
because it was originally derived from the adverbial form by addition of
the conjunctive particle te, e.g. tabe-te ‘eat’, k-i-te ‘come’, sh-i-te ‘do’.
Due to historical change (see Subsection 1.2.3), the te-forms of u-verbs are
very complex, varying according to the stem-final consonant:
(5) a.
ka-u6 ‘buy’ kat-te
b.
kak-u7 ‘write’ kak-i-te > ka-i-te

c.
oyog-u ‘swim’ oyog-i-te > oyo-i-de
d.
kas-u ‘lend’ kash-i-te
e.
kats-u8 ‘win’ kach-i-te > kat-te

f.
shin-u ‘die’ shin-i-te > shin-de
g.
tob-u ‘fly’ tob-i-te > to-n-de
h.
nom-u ‘drink’ nom-i-te > no-n-de

118
 i.
ur-u ‘sell’ ur-i-te > ut-te

Although the te-form can stand by itself, it is typically followed by an

auxiliary expression, e.g. non-de imasu ‘is drinking’, non-de kudasai
‘please drink’, non-de shimau ‘finish drinking’. The ta-form can be
derived by replacing -te/de with -ta/da, e.g. kat-ta ‘bought’, kai-ta ‘wrote’,
kashi-ta ‘lent’, non-da ‘drank’, shin-da ‘died’.
Missing in the above conjugation list is the so-called POTENTIAL form,
which indicates that the action denoted by the verb stem can be performed.
(6) a.
kak-eru ‘can write’ (u-verb)
b.
tabe-rareru ‘can eat’ (ru-verb)
c.
k-orareru ‘can come’ (irregular)
d.
dekiru ‘can do’ (irregular)

These forms, however, must be considered as separate, albeit derived,

verbs because they have their own conjugation paradigms.9 Two forms,
imperative and volitional, are not possible because these POTENTIAL
VERBS refer to states of affairs, not actions under a person’s control. All
potential verbs fall into the ru-verb category.
(7) Kak-e- (derived from kak- ‘write’)
a.
Negative kak-e-nai ‘cannot write’
b.
Adverbial kak-e ‘being able to write’
c.
Conclusive kak-e-ru ‘can write’
d.
Hypothetical kak-e-reba ‘if (someone) can write’

(8) Tabe-rare- (derived from tabe- ‘eat’)

a.
Negative tabe-rare-nai ‘cannot eat’
b.
Adverbial tabe-rare ‘being able to eat’

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 c.
Conclusive tabe-rare-ru ‘can eat’
d.
Hypothetical tabe-rare-reba ‘if (someone) can eat’

(9) Ko-rare- (derived from k- ‘come’)

a.
Negative ko-rare-nai ‘cannot come’
b.
Adverbial ko-rare ‘being able to come’
c.
Conclusive ko-rare-ru ‘can come’
d.
Hypothetical ko-rare-reba ‘if (someone) can come’

(10) Deki- is not derived from s- ‘do’ but is functionally equivalent to

other potential verbs.
a.
Negative deki-nai ‘cannot do’
b.
Adverbial deki ‘being able to do’
c.
Conclusive deki-ru ‘can do’
d.
Hypothetical deki-reba ‘if (someone) can do’

While enabling their users to express the notion of possibility succinctly,

these potential verbs impose a burden on Japanese verb usage because the
auxiliary -rareru also is indicative of two other major functions, passive
and honorific.10 This problem does not arise with u-verbs (kak-eru ‘can
write’ vs. kak-areru ‘be written’ (passive) or ‘will write’ (honorific)), but
for ru-verbs and kuru ‘come’, the newly created potential verbs with -
rareru underscore the problem. For example, mi-rareru (< miru ‘see’) can
be interpreted as ‘be seen’ (passive), ‘will see’ (honorific), or ‘can see’
(potential). To remedy this three-way ambiguity, a new formation called
the RA-LESS FORM (ra-nuki kotoba) was invented and has been spreading
rapidly in recent years despite the protests of linguistic conservatives and
purists who detest the form.11 In this innovative system, the passive and
the honorific are conveyed by -rareru, but the potential by -reru, e.g. mi-

120
reru ‘can see’, tabe-reru ‘can eat’, ko-reru ‘can come’.12
6.2 Copula conjugation
The copula, which is necessary to form predicates and modifiers with
nouns and na-adjectives, conjugates as below. The adverbial form is used
to modify a verb, while the ATTRIBUTIVE FORM modifies a noun. Verbs
have the volitional form in their conjugation, but the copula takes the
CONJECTURAL form instead. The polite version of the conjectural form is
deshō.
(11) a.
Negative de wa nai, ja nai ‘not be’
b.
Adverbial ni ‘being’
c.
Attributive13 na, no ‘be’

d.
Conclusive da, desu ‘be’
e.
Hypothetical naraba ‘if it is’
f.
Conjectural darō, deshō ‘probably be’
g.
Te-form de
h.
Ta-form datta, deshita ‘was, were’

(12) a.
Midori wa kangoshi [de wa/ja]-nai. [negative]

TOP nurse [COP]-NEG.NPST

‘Midori is not a nurse.’

b.
Shizuka ni shi-te kudasai. [adverbial]

COP.ADV do-TE please

‘Please be quiet.’

121
 c. Midori wa shinsetsu na hito da. [attributive]

TOP kind COP.ATT person COP.NPST

‘Midori is a kind person.’

Like verbs, the conclusive form of the copula, da, appears in dictionaries
and indicates the non-past tense, (12d), while its polite counterpart is desu.
The use of the te-form to conjoin clauses, as in (12g), will be discussed in
Subsection 16.2.1. The polite counterpart of datta in (12h) is deshita.
d.
Midori wa [kaikeishi/shinsetsu] da. [conclusive]

TOP [accountant/kind] COP.NPST

‘Midori is [an accountant/kind].’

e.
Ashita ame naraba, marason wa chūshi da.

tomorrow rain COP.HYP marathon TOP cancellation COP.NPST

‘If it rains tomorrow the marathon will be cancelled.’

f.
Ashita ame ga furu darō. [conjectural]

tomorrow rain NOM fall COP.CNJ

‘Probably it will rain tomorrow.’

g.
Midori wa kaikeishi de, Shigeru wa kangoshi da

TOP accountant COP.TE TOP nurse COP.NPST

‘Midori is an accountant, and Shigeru is a nurse.’

h.
Kinō wa ame datta. [ta-form]

yesterday TOP rain COP.PAST

122
 ‘It rained yesterday.’

6.3 I-adjective conjugation

Like verbs and the copula, the conclusive form of i-adjectives appears in
dictionaries and can indicate the non-past tense. Unlike verbs, the negative
auxiliary nai attaches to the adverbial form. Although i-adjectives do not
require copula support, desu can be added for politeness, as in omo-i desu
‘it is heavy’. Desu can also accompany the ta-form, as in omo-katta desu
‘it was heavy’, but this combination might sound awkward in some
situations. Therefore, when politeness has to be expressed, other strategies
are preferable, one being to place the adjective within a larger verbal
phrase, e.g. omo-katta to omoimasu ‘I think it was heavy’. The conjectural
form, e.g. omo-karō, is archaic and appears almost exclusively in fixed
expressions.
(13) a.
Adverbial omo-ku ‘being heavy’
b.
Conclusive omo-i ‘be heavy’
c.
Hypothetical omo-kereba ‘if heavy’
d.
Conjectural omo-karō ‘probably heavy’
e.
Te-form omo-kute
f.
Ta-form omo-katta ‘was/were heavy’

(14) a.
Kono rapputoppu wa omoku-nai (desu). [adverbial]

this laptop TOP heavy.ADV- COP

NEG.NPST

‘This laptop is not heavy.’

a′.
Akachan wa zuibun omoku natta. [adverbial]

baby TOP fairly heavy.ADV became

123
 ‘The baby has become quite heavy.’
b.
Ano rapputoppu wa omoi. [conclusive]

that laptop TOP heavy.NPST

‘That laptop is heavy.’

c.
Omokereba, hoka rapputoppu o kaimasu. [hypothetical]
no

heavy.HYP other laptop ACC buy.NPST

‘If (it’s) heavy, (I) will buy some other laptop.’

d.
Yasukarō, warukarō. [conjectural]

cheap.CNJ bad.CNJ

‘It’s probably cheap, but it’s also probably bad.’ (i.e. You get what
you pay for.)
e.
Kono rapputoppu wa yasukute hayai. [te-form]

this laptop TOP inexpensive.TE fast.NPST

‘This laptop is inexpensive and (yet) fast.’

f.
Ano rapputoppu wa omokatta. [ta-form]

that laptop TOP heavy.PAST

‘That laptop was heavy.’

Some auxiliaries conjugate as i-adjectives, e.g. na-i ‘not’.

(15) a.
Adverbial (omoku)-na-ku ‘not being heavy’
b
Conclusive (omoku)-na-i ‘is not heavy’

124
 c. Hypothetical
(omoku)-na-kereba ‘if (it’s) not heavy’
d.
Conjectural (omoku)-na-karō ‘probably not heavy’
e.
Te-form (omoku)-na-kute ‘not heavy and’
f.
Ta-form (omoku)-na-katta ‘was not heavy’

6.4 Casual speech

In everyday casual speech, words tend to be pronounced less clearly than
in formal situations. This section explains several casual forms; a more
extensive list is available at the book’s website
(http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php).
The te-form of a verb combines frequently with an auxiliary. In such
cases, two tendencies are observed: (i) deletion of front vowels (/i/ and
/e/), and (ii) avoidance of successive vowels.
a. When the auxiliary begins with /i/, /i/ drops: yonde ‘read’ + iru
‘exist/be’ → yonderu ‘be reading’; motte ‘hold’ + iku ‘go’ →
motteku ‘take’. However, the auxiliary ii ‘good’ does not undergo
this change: mite ‘see’ + ii → mite ii ‘it’s allowed to see
something’. (One can consider that, in the combination of /e/ and
/i/, /e/ wins and /i/ drops.)
b. The final /e/ of the te-form drops when the auxiliary begins with /a/
or /o/: shite ‘do’ + ageru ‘give’ → shitageru ‘do something for
someone’; tsukutte ‘make’ + oku ‘to place’ → tsukuttoku ‘make
something in advance’. However, with the auxiliary aru ‘exist/be’
this change does not occur: katte ‘buy’ + aru → katte aru
‘something has been bought’. (In the combination of /e/ and /a/ or
/o/, the latter wins and /e/ drops.)
c. With the auxiliary shimau ‘finish’, the final /e/ of the te-form
drops, resulting in chimau or jimau: tabete ‘eat’ + shimau →
tabechimau ‘finish eating’; yonde ‘read’ + shimau → yonjimau
‘finish reading’.
d. The contracted form chimau and jimau can be further reduced to
chau or jau, respectively: tabechimau → tabechau; yonjimau →
yonjau.
The next rule involves front vowel deletion and consonant palatalization

125
(see Section 3.1).
e. In casual speech, the /eb/ part of the hypothetical form of a verb
drops, and the consonant preceding /eba/ is palatalized: hanas-eba
‘if speak out’ → hanasha; oyog-eba ‘if swim’ → oyogya; mi-reba
‘if see’ → mirya. When a vowel precedes /eba/, /y/ is inserted: a-
eba ‘if meet’ → aya. With i-adjectives, /kereba/ becomes /kerya/
or /kya/: taka-kereba ‘if expensive’ → takakerya → takakya.
f. If the vowel before the topic marker wa is /i/ or /e/, the vowel and
/w/ drop, and the preceding consonant is palatalized: watashi ‘I’ +
wa → watasha; kore ‘this’ + wa → korya; yonde ‘reading’ + wa →
yonja.
When at the end of a conjugated verb, the syllables /ra/, /ri/, and /ru/
become the moraic nasal under certain circumstances.
g. When followed by /an/, /in/, or /un/, the stem final /r/ becomes a
moraic nasal: kaer-anai ‘not go home’ → kaennai; kaer-ina ‘Go
home!’ → kaenna; kaer-una ‘Don’t go home!’ → kaenna.
Rule (g) can cause serious problems for the hearer. One of my students
visited a rural area in Japan for a homestay. She found the house and an
elderly man working in the barn. He said hainna, hainna. She knew that
hairu ‘enter, the conclusive form’ + na (a sentence-final particle, to be
discussed in Subsection 23.2.4) means a prohibition, ‘don’t enter’, but his
facial expression was inviting. As you see in (g), the affirmative command,
hairi (the adverbial form) + na, and the negative command, hairu + na,
can both be contracted to hainna in casual speech. The only difference is
pitch accent: the former is hainná, whereas the latter is háinna.
6.5 Deriving nouns
The adverbial form of a verb can be used as a noun, like the English
gerund, e.g. swimming.
(16) a. oyog-u ‘swim’
Midori wa oyogi ga jōzu da.

TOP swimming NOM good.at COP.NPST

‘Midori is good at swimming.’ (i.e. Midori is a good

swimmer.)
b. shirabe-ru ‘investigate’

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 Shirabe ga tari-nai.

investigation NOM adequate-NEG.NPST

‘The investigation is inadequate.’

From adjectives, nouns can be derived by the use of the suffix -sa or -
mi. While -sa can co-occur with virtually any adjective, -mi is limited to a
small number of i-adjectives. When both suffixes are permitted, -sa is
generally more abstract than -mi.
(17) I-adjectives
atataka-i atataka- atataka-mi ‘warmth’
‘warm’ sa

shitashi-i shitashi- shitashi-mi ‘familiarity’

‘familiar’ sa

kura-i ‘dark’ kura-sa *kura-mi ‘darkness’

tsumeta-i ‘cold’ tsumeta- *tsumeta-mi ‘coldness’

sa

uma-i ‘tasty’ uma-sa ‘tastiness’

uma-mi ‘essence of
taste’

yowa-i ‘weak’ yowa-sa ‘weakness’

yowa-mi ‘weak point’

(18) Na-adjectives (-mi is prohibited)
benri benri-sa *benri-mi ‘convenience’
‘convenient’

kenkō ‘healthy’ kenkō-sa *kenkō-mi ‘healthiness’

zeitaku ‘lavish’ zeitaku- *zeitaku- ‘lavishness’

sa mi

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 Verbal nouns can be derived from ordinary nouns or from na-adjectives
by the suffix -ka ‘-ization’, and the derived verbal nouns can form verbs
with suru ‘do’.
(19)
Noun Verbal noun + suru

nihon ‘Japan’ nihon-ka ‘Japanization’ ‘Japanize’

taishū ‘populace’ taishū-ka ‘popularization’ ‘popularize’

toshi ‘city’ toshi-ka ‘urbanization’ ‘urbanize’

(20)
Na-adjective Verbal noun + suru

dejitaru ‘digital’ dejitaru-ka ‘digitization’ ‘digitize’

fuhen ‘general’ fuhen-ka ‘generalization’ ‘generalize’

saiteki ‘optimum’ saiteki-ka ‘optimization’ ‘optimize’

6.6 Deriving verbs

In addition to adding suru to verbal nouns, adding the non-past suffix -ru
to a base noun can generate a verb, although the latter process is much less
productive.
(21)
jiko ‘accident’ jiko-ru ‘to have a traffic accident’

kaso kaso-ru ‘to become unpopular’ (e.g. Internet

‘depopulation’ bulletin board)

gugu < Google gugu-ru ‘to search with Google’

torabu(ru) < torabu-ru ‘to be in trouble’

trouble

This process can also be used to derive a verb from a proper noun. For
example, Egawa-ru ‘to obtain what one wants in a sneaky way’ was
derived from Taku EGAWA, the name of a former pitcher of the Yomiuri
Giants baseball team, and Hato-ru ‘to leave one’s duties unfinished’ from
Yukio HATOYAMA, the name of a former prime minister of Japan. In this

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derivation process, it is interesting to note that the base word is first treated
as the stem of a ru-verb (a natural process because the word ends in a
vowel, considered as a vowel-ending stem), obtaining the suffix -ru, but
then it behaves as an u-verb. For example, the Japanese verb negu-ru,
derived from the English verb neglect, conjugates negur-anai (negative),
negur-i(masu) ‘adverbial’, negur-eba (hypothetical), etc.14
Although no longer a productive process, verbs can be derived from
adjectives (for the intransitive–transitive distinction, see Section 7.2):
(22)
I-adjectives intransitive transitive

kata-i ‘hard’ kata-maru kata-meru ‘solidify’

tsuyo-i ‘strong’ tsuyo-maru tsuyo-meru ‘strengthen’

kiyo-i ‘pure’ kiyo-meru ‘purify’

kurushi- ‘painful’ kurushi- ‘inflict pain’

i meru

futo-i ‘fat’ futo-ru ‘gain weight’

hoso-i ‘thin’ hoso-ru ‘become

slender’
(23)
Na-adjectives intransitive transitive

shizuka ‘quiet’ shizu-maru shizu- ‘to quiet’

meru

yasuraka ‘peaceful’ yasura-gu yasura- ‘have/bring

geru peace of
mind’

hanayaka ‘gorgeous’ hanaya-gu hanaya- ‘scintillate’

geru

yuruyaka ‘gentle’ yuruya-gu ‘become

gentle’

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6.7 Deriving adjectives
The auxiliary -rashii derives i-adjectives from a noun or i- or na-
adjective.15
(24) Nouns
haru ‘spring’ haru-rashii ‘typical of spring’

gakusei ‘student’ gakusei-rashii ‘typical of a student’

nihon ‘Japan’ nihon-rashii ‘typically Japanese’

(25) I-adjectives (highly limited)
kawai-i ‘lovely’ kawai-rashii ‘lovely looking’

kitana-i ‘dirty’ kitana-rashii ‘dirty-looking’

niku-i ‘detestable’ niku-rashii ‘spiteful-looking’

(26) Na adjectives (highly limited)
baka ‘fool’ baka- ‘foolish’
rashii

iya ‘disagreeable’ iya- ‘disagreeable-

rashii looking’

mottomo ‘reasonable’ mottomo- ‘deceptively

rashii reasonable-looking’

The suffix -ppoi also derives i-adjectives from a noun, verb, or i- or na-
adjective.
(27) Nouns
hokori ‘dust’ hokori-ppoi ‘dusty’

mizu ‘water’ mizu-ppoi ‘watery’

rikutsu ‘reason, rikutsu-ppoi ‘argumentative’

argument’
(28) Verbs (adverbial form)

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 aki-ru ‘lose aki-ppoi ‘easily tired of
interest’ something’

okor-u ‘get angry’ okori-ppoi ‘irritable’

wasure- ‘forget’ wasure- ‘forgetful’

ru ppoi
(29) I-adjectives (highly limited)
ara-i ‘harsh’ ara- ‘harsh’ (negatively
ppoi evaluated)

yasu- ‘inexpensive’ yasu- ‘cheap-looking’

i ppoi
(30) Na-adjectives
aware ‘pitiful’ aware- ‘pitiful-looking’
ppoi

hiniku ‘sarcastic’ hiniku- ‘inclined to be sarcastic’

ppoi

uwaki ‘unchaste’ uwaki- ‘habitually betraying one’s

ppoi spouse’

When both -rashii and -ppoi can attach to the same noun, the former
indicates a typical characteristic, whereas the latter indicates a similarity.
(31) kodomo ‘child’, egao ‘smile’, kagakusha ‘scientist’, kodawari
‘obsession’
kodomo-rashii egao ‘a smile that is typical of a child’

kodomo-ppoi egao ‘a smile as if the person were a child’

kagakusha-rashii ‘an obsession that is typical of a

kodawari scientist’

kagakusha-ppoi ‘an obsession as if the person were a

kodawari scientist’

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 The suffix -teki derives na-adjectives from nouns.
(32)
geijutsu ‘art’ geijutsu-teki ‘artistic’

kihon ‘foundation’ kihon-teki ‘fundamental’

rekishi ‘history’ rekishi-teki ‘historical’

6.8 Compounding
Nouns, verbs, and adjectives can be combined to form new words. Some
examples below exhibit sequential voicing (see Section 3.7).
(33) Native Japanese
a. Noun + noun → noun
onna ‘female’ + oya ‘parent’ onna-oya ‘mother’

kabe ‘wall’ + kami ‘paper’ kabe-gami ‘wallpaper’

b. Verb (adverbial) + noun → noun
tōri ‘pass’ + ame ‘rain’ tōri-ame ‘passing rain’

kai ‘buy’ + mono ‘thing’ kai-mono ‘shopping’

c. Adjective (stem) + noun → noun
naga ‘long’ + kutsu ‘shoes’ naga-gutsu ‘rain boots’

ureshi ‘happy’ + namida ureshi-namida ‘joyful

‘tear’ tears’
d. Noun + verb (adverbial) → noun
sake ‘alcohol’ + nomi ‘drink’ sake-nomi ‘drinker’

tsume ‘nail’ + kiri ‘cut’ tsume-kiri ‘nail clipper’

e. Noun + verb → verb
me ‘eye’ + sameru ‘wake me-zameru ‘wake up’
up’

tabi ‘journey’ + tatsu tabi-datsu ‘go on a

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 ‘depart’ journey’
f. Verb (adverbial) + verb → verb
ki ‘wear’ + kaeru ki-gaeru ‘change clothes’
‘change’

koge ‘burn’ + tsuku koge-tsuku ‘burn food onto the

‘attach’ pan’
g. Adjective (stem) + verb (adverbial) → verbal noun
haya ‘early’ + oki ‘wake up’ haya-oki ‘early rising’

yasu ‘cheap’ + uri ‘sell’ yasu-uri ‘bargain sale’

h.Noun + adjective → adjective
hokori ‘pride’ + takai hokori-takai/dakai ‘highly
‘high’ proud’

shio ‘salt’ + karai ‘spicy’ shio-karai ‘salty’

i. Verb (adverbial) + adjective → adjective
nebari ‘persevere’ + tsuyoi nebari-zuyoi
‘strong’ ‘tenacious’

utagai ‘doubt’ + fukai ‘deep’ utagai-bukai

‘distrustful’
j. Adjective (stem) + adjective → adjective
atsu ‘hot’ + kurushii atsu-kurushii ‘oppressively
‘uncomfortable’ warm’

zuru ‘cunning’ + kashikoi zuru-gashikoi ‘devious’

‘smart’

(34) Sino-Japanese
a. Noun + noun → noun
en ‘lead’ + hitsu ‘writing brush’ en-pitsu ‘pencil’

gyū ‘cow’ + niku ‘meat’ gyū-niku ‘beef’

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 b. Verb + noun → noun
shoku ‘eat’ + ki ‘container’ shok-ki ‘tableware’

shoku ‘eat’ + taku ‘table’ shoku-taku ‘dinner table’

c. Verb + noun → verbal noun
doku ‘read’ + sho ‘book’ doku-sho ‘reading’

to ‘climb’ + san ‘mountain’ to-zan ‘mountain climbing’

d. Adjective + noun → noun
kō ‘high’ + ri ‘interest’ kō-ri ‘high interest’

tei ‘low’ + on ‘sound’ tei-on ‘low tone’

e. Verb + verb → verbal noun
kai ‘open’ + shi ‘start’ kai-shi ‘start’

zō ‘increase’ + san zō-san ‘increase in

‘produce’ production’
f. Adjective + verb → verbal noun
an ‘peaceful’ + min ‘sleep’ an-min ‘sound sleep’

shin ‘new’ + chiku ‘build’ shin-chiku ‘new construction’

6.9 Abbreviation
In Japanese, long compounds and borrowed foreign words are customarily
shortened as exemplified by some common strategies below:
(35) Combine the first one or two moras of each component.
dejitaru ‘digital’ + kamera ‘camera’ → deji-kame ‘digital camera’
dotanba ‘last minute’ + kyanseru ‘cancel’ → dota-kyan ‘last-minute
cancellation’
kopī ‘copy’ + pēsuto ‘paste’ → kopi-pe ‘copy and paste’
sekusharu ‘sexual’ + harasumento ‘harassment’ → seku-hara ‘sexual
harassment’
shūshoku ‘obtaining employment’ + katsudō ‘activity’ → shū-katsu
‘job hunting’

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(36) Use only the first component.
keitai ‘portable’ + denwa → keitai ‘cell phone’
‘telephone’

kyūkō ‘express’ + densha ‘train’ → kyūkō ‘express

train’

sōri ‘prime’ + daijin ‘minister’ → sōri ‘Prime

Minister’

sūpā ‘super’ + māketto ‘market’ → sūpā ‘super market’

(37) Use only first two to four moras.
apartment → apāto

appointment → apo

convenience → konbini
store

presentation → purezen

Starbucks → Sutaba (> Sutaba-ru ‘to go to

Starbucks’)
1 For detailed discussions of the problems involved in a paradigmatic
representation of verb conjugation, see Teramura (1984: 19–49), Shibatani
(1990: 221–35), and Komatsu (1999/2001: 185–89).
2 The adverbial form is often identified as infinitive or gerundive.
However, its functions differ from those forms in European languages. The
term adverbial form captures its range of uses without claiming any such
cross-linguistic similarities.
3 In traditional Japanese grammar, the vowels that immediately follow the
u-verb stem are considered part of the verb conjugation, which are then
followed by an auxiliary element. For example, the negative form of kak-
is analyzed as kak-a + nai and the hypothetical form as kak-e + ba. With
ru-verbs, by contrast, the auxiliaries are attached directly to the verb stem,
e.g. tabe + nai and tabe + reba. I take the position that the vowels in u-
verbs are a part of the auxiliary, e.g. -anai and -eba. This practice of

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positing two forms of auxiliaries, e.g. -anai and -nai, makes the
description of verb conjunction simpler and more coherent because we
need to posit two forms of auxiliaries anyway, e.g. the hypothetical form
being -ba with u-verbs, but -reba with ru-verbs, and the conclusive form
being -u with u-verbs, but -ru with ru-verbs.
4 The stem of this verb is uniformly s-; the alternation between s- and sh-
is an artifact of the Hepburn Romanization System (see Section 4.6). If
written in the Cabinet Ordinance System, these forms would uniformly be
written with s-, e.g. s-inai, s-i, s-uru, s-ureba, s-iro, s-iyō, s-aseru.
5 According to the traditional grammar, the causative and passive
auxiliaries are said to attach to the mizen-kei of the verb, and the mizenkei
of suru ‘do’ is sh-i-. This derivation rule wrongly generates the causative
and passive forms as *sh-i-saseru and *sh-i-rareru.
6 The stem of the u-verbs whose conclusive form ends in a succession of
vowels (e.g. au ‘meet’, iu ‘say’, ou ‘chase’, kau ‘buy’, suu ‘inhale’, mau
‘dance’) has /w/ as its final consonant. This consonant, however, appears
only in the negative, causative, and passive forms, e.g. kaw-anai, kaw-
aseru, kaw-areru. In other conjugation forms, the /w/ drops, e.g. kaw-u
becomes ka-u; kaw-i becomes ka-i; kaw-eba becomes ka-eba.
7 Although ending in /k/, ik-u ‘go’ is irregular in te-form formation: ik-i-te
> it-te, not *i–i-te.
8 The t-line of the Japanese syllabary is written in the Cabinet Ordinance
System as ta-ti-tu-te-to, but in the Hepburn system it is written as ta-chi-
tsu-te-to.
9 The potential verbs can be found as early as late Middle Japanese (the
twelfth–sixteenth centuries), but full-fledged development had to wait until
the nineteenth century (Komatsu 1999/2001: 214).
10 An additional function of -rareru is INCHOATIVE, vis-à-vis causative,
which indicates that the event happens spontaneously without a causing
agent, e.g. anji-rareru ≈ ‘cannot stop worrying’ < anjiru ‘worry’. This
function is rare and not discussed in this book.
11 See Komatsu (1999/2001) for the development of -reru since Old
Japanese.
12 Contrary to the ra-less form, the RE-MORE FORM (re-tashi kotoba), a
new potential form that contains an additional re, has become noticeable
among younger generations (Sunakawa 2011). For example, iku ‘go’ > ik-
e-ru ‘can go’ > ik-e-re-ru (re-more); miru ‘see’ > mi-rareru ‘can see’ >
mi-reru (ra-less) > mi-re-reru (re-more).

136
13 The na in na-adjectives is the attributive form of the copula. When a
noun modifies another noun, no appears after the modifying noun.
Therefore, this no can be considered another attributive form of the copula.
14 Some older verbs generated by this process persist as ru-verbs, e.g.
tasogare ‘dusk’ > tasogare-ru ‘get dark’, which conjugate as tasogare-nai
(negative), tasogare-(masu) (adverbial), tasogare-reba (hypothetical), etc.
15 For details of this process, see Yamashita (1995).

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Part III Grammatical foundations

138
 7 Grammatical relations and case marking
7.1 Introduction
A CLAUSE is a linguistic unit which consists, at a minimum, of a
PREDICATE and its ARGUMENT(S). It is a unit smaller than a SENTENCE,
for a sentence can consist of more than one clause. In Japanese, a predicate
is a verb (VERBAL PREDICATE), an i- or na-adjective plus copula
(ADJECTIVAL PREDICATE), or a noun plus copula (NOMINAL
PREDICATE). Arguments typically, but not necessarily, consist of NOUN
PHRASES (NPs) such as mado ga, heya ga, kore ga in (1).
(1) a.
Mado ga aita. [verb = verbal predicate]

window NOM opened

‘The window opened.’

b.
Heya ga hiroi. [i-adjective = adjectival predicate]

room NOM spacious

‘The room is spacious.’

c.
Heya ga kirei da. [na-adjective + copula =
[adjectival predicate]

room NOM clean COP.NPST

‘The room is clean.’

d.
Kore ga keiyakusho da. [noun + copula
= predicate]

nominal.this NOM contract COP.NPST

‘This is the contract.’

Each predicate requires a number of arguments for conveying its

essential meaning.1 Generally, adjectival and nominal predicates, as well

139
as some verbal predicates, require only one argument. In Japanese, this
mandatory argument is marked by the postpositional particle ga, as shown
in (1), and the NP is said to be in the NOMINATIVE case. The term
GRAMMATICAL RELATION is also used to identify the grammatical
function of the given NP with respect to the predicate. In (1), all of the
nominative NPs hold the grammatical relation of SUBJECT to their
corresponding predicates.
7.2 Intransitive vs. transitive predicates
In traditional grammars, when a predicate requires only a single
nominative argument, it is called INTRANSITIVE. Many verbs require
more than one argument.2 For example, to understand the meaning of
yomu ‘read’ requires a person (or persons) who can read and something
readable, a book, for example, or newspaper or magazine. In Japanese,
such a secondary argument is marked by the particle o, and said to be in
the ACCUSATIVE case.
(2) a.
Midori ga hon o yonda.

NOM book ACC read

‘Midori read a book.’

b.
Shigeru ga kabin o watta.

NOM vase ACC broke

‘Shigeru broke the vase.’

If a given predicate requires both nominative and accusative NPs, it is

considered TRANSITIVE. With a transitive predicate, the accusative NP
holds the grammatical relation of DIRECT OBJECT.
In English, many, if not most, verbs can be used either intransitively or
transitively.3
(3) a.
The door opened. [intransitive]
b.
I opened the door. [transitive]

(4) a.

140
 I drive a car every day. [transitive]
b.
This car drives smoothly. [intransitive]

In Japanese, by contrast, only a small number of verbs can be used both

ways, e.g. hiraku ‘open’, tojiru ‘close’, masu ‘increase’, tomonau
‘accompany’.4
(5) a.
Tobira ga hiraita. [intransitive]

door NOM opened

‘The door opened.’

b.
Midori ga tobira o hiraita. [transitive]

NOM door ACC opened

‘Midori opened the door.’

Most Japanese verbs have related yet distinct intransitive and transitive
forms.
(6) a.
Tobira ga aita. [intransitive]

door NOM opened

‘The door opened.’

b.
Midori ga tobira o aketa. [transitive]

NOM door ACC opened

‘Midori opened the door.’

(7) a.
Nedan ga sagatta. [intransitive]

price NOM dropped

‘The price dropped.’

141
 b.
Shigeru ga nedan o sageta. [transitive]

NOM price ACC dropped

‘Shigeru dropped the price.’

(8)
Intransitive Transitive Gloss

a. mag-aru mag-eru bend

tom-aru tom-eru stop

b. sas-aru sas-u pierce

tsunag-aru tsunag-u connect

c. or-eru or-u break

war-eru war-u break

d. kowa-reru kowa-su break

naga-reru naga-su flow/drain

e. utsu-ru utsu-su transfer

nao-ru nao-su heal

f. kawak-u kawak-asu dry

her-u her-asu decrease

g. k-ieru k-esu turn off

Aita-aketa in (6) and sagatta-sageta in (7) are obviously related, and

some recurring patterns are observable between such intransitive and
transitive pairs as shown in (8). Nevertheless, deriving one form from the
other by simply applying a rule is not possible. Therefore, each pair of
forms must be learned separately.
In both English and Japanese, predicates exist that require three
arguments.
(9)
Midori ga Shigeru ni kabin o okutta/ageta.

NOM DAT vase ACC sent/gave

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 ‘Midori sent/gave Shigeru a vase.’

Okuru ‘send’ and ageru ‘give’ presuppose a recipient in addition to the

sender/giver and the item that is transferred. This third argument is marked
with the particle ni, and called DATIVE. The grammatical relation that the
dative NP in (9) holds is that of INDIRECT OBJECT. The predicates that
require a nominative, an accusative, and a dative argument are referred to
as DITRANSITIVE (di = twice).
7.3 Valence
When we consider a wider range of predicates and their associated
arguments, the traditional categorization of intransitive–transitive–
ditransitive proves inadequate. Iku ‘go’, for example, does not require an
accusative NP, and, therefore, it is intransitive.5 Nevertheless, with only a
nominative NP, a sentence such as (10a) is semantically incomplete. In
order to interpret the sentence, the addressee naturally questions where
Midori went. That is, another argument must be supplied with ni ‘to’ as in
(10b).6
(10) a.
Midori ga itta.

NOM went

‘Midori went.’
b.
Midori ga toshokan ni itta.

NOM library to went

‘Midori went to the library.’

This being the case, a new concept is needed to discuss predicates’

obligatory arguments, and linguists have borrowed the useful and widely
employed term VALENCE from chemistry – where the term refers to the
number of bonded electron atoms forming a chemical element – to help
them visualize/conceptualize a predicate in relation to its arguments.7
From this perspective, we can metaphorically conceive of a clause as a
nucleus (predicate) surrounded by valence electrons (arguments).
If a predicate requires only one argument, it is called a ONE-PLACE

143
PREDICATE; if two, a TWO-PLACE PREDICATE; if three, a THREE-
PLACE PREDICATE.
(11) a.
Midori ga waratta. [intransitive, one-place]

NOM laughed

‘Midori laughed.’
b.
Midori ga densha ni notta. [intransitive, two-place]

NOM train on rode

‘Midori got onto the train.’

c.
Midori ga uchi ni iru. [intransitive, two-place]

NOM home at exist

‘Midori is at home.’
d.
Midori ga hako ni rōsoku o ireta. [transitive,

NOM box to candle ACC put three-

place]

‘Midori put candles into the box.’

Categorization of predicates based on the number of mandatory

arguments is a complex task and can therefore vary according to the
theoretical framework to which one subscribes. Consider, for example, the
sentences in (12).
(12) a.
Shigeru ga monku o itta.

NOM complaint ACC said

‘[Lit.] Shigeru said a complaint.’

‘Shigeru complained.’

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 b. Shigeru
ga tsumaranai to itta.

NOM trivial QUOT said

‘Shigeru said that (it) was/is trivial.’

In (12a), an accusative NP is obligatory; therefore, it is clearly transitive.

But is the sentence semantically complete with only two arguments? When
a person complains, should there not be a target person or organization to
whom the complaint is made? Or can one complain without addressing
anyone? It depends on one’s understanding or definition of monku o iu ‘to
complain’ as well as of the noun monku ‘complaint’. The case in (12b),
where no accusative NP is involved, is even more problematic. Is the
QUOTATIVE phrase, marked by to, a substitute for the mandatory
accusative argument, and if so, should the predicate be considered
transitive? This is a difficult question, and most Japanese dictionaries are
ambiguous as to whether iu ‘say’ is categorically transitive or intransitive.
7.4 Transitivity
Traditional grammars loosely and metaphorically conceive of the notion of
TRANSITIVITY in such a way that an activity is “transferred” from one
participant to another, and they categorize transitivity according to the
presence or absence of the secondary (i.e. accusative) argument. Such a
distinction between intransitive and transitive is observed in diverse world
languages, and is therefore unlikely to be a purely linguistic (i.e. arbitrary
and language specific) phenomenon. Rather, it is more likely to be a
reflection of universal human cognition.
Hopper and Thompson (1980) believe the intransitive–transitive
dichotomy cannot capture many relevant phenomena, and that transitivity
should instead be conceived of in terms of a continuum. That is, it should
be meaningful to say that some predicates are more transitive than others.
They propose to decompose transitivity into ten components:8
(13) a. PARTICIPANTS: Situations with two participants are higher in
transitivity than those with one participant.
b. KINESIS: Actions (e.g. Mia hugged Jacob) are higher than non-
actions (e.g. Mia likes Jacob).
c. ASPECT: Completed actions (e.g. I ate all of the pizza) are higher
than non-complete actions (e.g. I’m eating the pizza).

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 d. PUNCTUALITY: Punctual actions (e.g. Mia kicked the car fender)
are higher than durative actions (e.g. Mia carried a suitcase).
e. VOLITIONALITY: Volitional actions (e.g. Mia wrote your name)
are higher than non-volitional actions (e.g. Mia forgot your name).
f. AFFIRMATION: Affirmative clauses (Mia will attend the meeting)
are higher than negative clauses (Mia won’t attend the meeting).
g. MODE: Actual events (e.g. I speak Korean) are higher than those
that are assumed to occur in a non-real world (e.g. I wish I could
speak Korean).
h. AGENCY (i.e. the capacity of an entity to act or effect): Events
whose participants are high in agency (e.g. Mia startled me) are
higher than those with low agency participants (The story startled
me).
i. INDIVIDUATION OF THE OBJECT: When the object is clearly
distinct from other participants or background (e.g. I saw Mia in
town), the transitivity is higher than when it is not (I saw beautiful
scenery).
j. AFFECTIVENESS OF THE OBJECT: Events whereby the object is
completely affected (e.g. I destroyed the gate) are higher than those
with the partially affected object (I opened the gate).
According to this conceptualization, certain clauses are extremely high
in transitivity. For example, in (14) with korosu ‘kill’, the situation
involves (13a) two participants, (13b) action, (13c) completion, (13d)
punctuality, (13e) volition,9 (13f) affirmation, and (13g) an actual event.
The subject (the speaker) is (13h) high in agency, and the object, Nobuo, is
(13i) distinct from others and (13j) totally affected. In such a high
transitivity situation, most languages would be expected to encode it with a
transitive verb and accusative case marking.
(14)
Watashi ga Nobuo o koroshita.

I NOM ACC killed

‘I killed Nobuo.’

In contrast, it is predicted that situations with low transitivity are

encoded as transitive by some languages and as intransitive by others, as
exemplified in (15). Meet and understand, for example, are transitive in
English, but intransitive in Japanese. (The distinction between the

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nominative marker ga and the topic marker wa will be discussed in
Chapter 8.)
(15) a.
Midori ga Shigeru ni atta.

NOM to met

‘Midori met Shigeru.’

b.
Midori wa chūgokugo ga wakaru.

TOP Chinese NOM understand

‘Midori understands Chinese.’

Au ‘meet’ is clearly lower in transitivity than korosu ‘kill’ because the

object is not so drastically affected. With wakaru ‘understand’, the object,
the Chinese language, is not affected at all. These examples indicate that
with low transitivity, accusative marking of the secondary entity in the
clause might be inconsistent. This topic will be returned to shortly.
7.5 Arguments vs. adjuncts
Clauses can contain more NPs than mandatory arguments.
(16) a.
Midori ga nichiyōbi ni resutoran de bangohan o

NOM Sunday on restaurant at dinner ACC

‘On Sunday Midori ate dinner at a restaurant.’

b.
Midori ga Shigeru to denshirenji de kēki

NOM with microwave.oven with cake

‘With Shigeru, Midori made a cake using a microwave oven.’

c.
Midori ga Hawai kara kikoku-shita.

NOM from returned

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 ‘Midori came back (returned to her home country) from Hawaii.’

The predicate of (16a) is tabeta ‘ate’, which requires nominative and

accusative NPs. Other NPs in (16) provide additional information:
nichiyōbi ni (time) and resutoran de (place). Time and place are broader
concepts than the event specified by the predicate because all events occur
at a specific time and place. In (16b) and (16c), Shigeru to indicates
accompaniment, denshirenji de the instrument, and Hawai kara the origin
of the movement. Unlike time and place, these phrases provide event
internal information. Such non-obligatory elements are collectively
referred to as ADJUNCTS vis-à-vis arguments.
The distinction between arguments and adjuncts is not always easy to
make. Nevertheless, in most cases, the distinction is psychologically real,
and I propose the QUESTION PULL (Hasegawa 1988) as an empirical test
to justify the distinction. Unlike English, obligatory arguments in Japanese
need not be overtly stated; it is even the norm to omit obviously
identifiable elements from sentences. For example, an utterance consisting
of just a predicate is possible, as in Michatta ‘saw’. In such a case, unless
another entity has been established as the topic of the conversation, the
speaker is normally understood to be the default subject. Therefore
Michatta is interpreted as ‘I saw it’. When the hearer is unable to identify
the referent of it, s/he would likely ask nani o ‘what (accusative)’. It would
sound absurd if the hearer asked at this point for an adjunct, e.g. itsu
‘when’, doko de ‘where’, or dare to ‘with whom’. That is, identification of
adjuncts is not meaningful until all obligatory arguments are clarified. This
natural sequence of obtaining (pulling) information supports my
contention that certain elements are indispensable for understanding a
clause while others contribute non-essential, supplemental information.
Adjuncts are sometimes said to carry a SEMANTIC CASE, in contrast to
nominative, accusative, and dative, which indicate GRAMMATICAL CASE.
The cases of adjuncts – e.g. time, place (at), accompaniment (with),
instrument/means (by), the origin of movement (from) – are semantically
more specific than the grammatical cases whose semantics cannot be
determined unless the predicate is identified. For example, Midori is
uniformly marked with ga in (17), but its semantic case is AGENT (i.e. it
intentionally performs the action) in (17a), EXPERIENCER (i.e. it
undergoes sensory, emotional, or cognitive experience) in (17b), and
PATIENT (it undergoes a change) in (17c) below.
(17) a.

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 Midori ga shashin o moyashita.

NOM photo ACC burnt

‘Midori burnt the photo.’

b.
Midori ga yūrei o mita.

NOM ghost ACC saw

‘Midori saw a ghost.’

c.
Midori ga shinda.

NOM died

‘Midori died.’

Likewise, the dative NPs in the two sentences in (18) act in completely
opposite ways – i.e. ni indicates ‘to’ or ‘from’ depending upon the
predicate chosen.
(18) a.
Midori ga Shigeru ni shashin o ageta.

NOM DAT photo ACC gave

‘Midori gave a photo to Shigeru.’

b.
Midori ga Shigeru ni shashin o moratta.

NOM DAT photo ACC received

‘Midori received a photo from Shigeru.’

In (18b), it is clear that ni is dative, distinct from the goal adjunct, as in

gakkō ni iku ‘go to school’. The dative NP with morau ‘receive’ – but not
with ageru ‘give’ – can be superseded by NP kara ‘from’, which is
semantically more explicit.
7.6 Discrepancies between case and grammatical

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relations
In typical sentences, neat correspondences exist between case marking and
grammatical relations: nominative for subject, accusative for direct object,
and dative for indirect object. However, as shown in (15b), these canonical
agreements can be disrupted, thus becoming problematic. For many
speakers, wakaru is conceptually transitive, albeit with low transitivity,
involving a sentient subject experiencing some phenomenon or entity as
direct object. Nevertheless, the NP that is conceptually a direct object is
marked with the nominative ga. Many linguists (e.g. Martin 1962: 44;
1975: 198–201) consider the nominative NP to be invariably the subject of
the clause, whereas others (e.g. Kuno 1973) analyze ga in such clauses as
marking a direct object.10
In any case, the “nominative direct object” appears only in a limited
number of constructions, all of which are low in transitivity. Observe the
following sentences:
(19) With adjectival predicates
a.
Watashi wa kuruma ga hoshii. [i-adjective]

I TOP car NOM want

‘I want a car.’
b.
Watashi wa eiga ga suki da. [na-adjective]

I TOP movie NOM fond COP.NPST

‘I like (am fond of) movies.’

(20) Want-to-do construction

Watashi wa eiga ga mi-tai.

I TOP movie NOM see-want

‘I want to see a movie.’

(21) Can-do construction
Watashi wa piano ga hikeru.

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 I TOP piano NOM can.play

‘I can play the piano.’

(22) Non-intentional cognition/perception
a.
Watashi wa tōkei ga wakaru.

I TOP statistics NOM understand

‘I understand statistics.’
b.
Watashi wa yūrei ga mieru.

I TOP ghost NOM can.see

‘I can see ghosts.’

Another incongruent situation occurs when the predicate indicates some

movement and the accusative NP indicates location. For (23), because
cross and climb are transitive, English speakers are unlikely to find the
sentences problematic.
(23) a.
Midori ga michi o watatta.

NOM street ACC crossed

‘Midori crossed the street.’

b.
Midori ga yama o nobotta.

NOM mountain ACC climbed

‘Midori climbed the mountain.’

This pattern extends to many motion verbs, some of which can hardly be
conceived of as transitive. In such cases, whether to label the particle o as
accusative or as a location marker varies from analysis to analysis.
(24) a.
michi o aruku ‘walk along the street’

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 b. rōka o hashiru ‘run in the corridor’

c.
yamamichi o iku ‘go along the mountain trail’
d.
kawa o oyogu ‘swim across the river’
e.
kōen o sanpo-suru ‘take a walk in the park’
f.
sora o tobu ‘fly through the sky’

The third problematic case is the so-called DATIVE SUBJECT. The can-
do construction, as introduced in (21), non-intentional
cognition/perception, as in (22), EXISTENTIAL VERBS aru and iru, and
some other predicates accommodate an NP that can be conceived of as a
subject, but marked with the dative ni as in the following examples.11
(25) a.
Midori ni ronbun ga kak-eru darō ka.

DAT thesis NOM write-can I.wonder

‘I wonder whether Midori can write a thesis.’

b.
Midori ni kono oto ga kikoeru darō ka.

DAT this sound NOM audible I.wonder

‘I wonder if Midori can hear this sound,’ or ‘I wonder if this

sound is audible to Midori.’
c.
Midori ni (wa) kodomo ga iru.

DAT (TOP) child NOM exist

‘Midori has a child.’

d.
Dare ni sonna taikin ga hitsuyō ka?

who DAT such big.money NOM necessary INT

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 ‘Who needs such a great quantity of money?’

In these constructions, the natural word order is “NP-ni NP-ga

Predicate,” whereas NP-ga normally precedes NP-ni in most constructions.
7.7 Fluctuation between nominative and
accusative markings
One of the constructions that corresponds to the English phrase want-to-do
employs a verb with the suffix tai as shown in (20). In (26a), nomu ‘drink’
is transitive and requires an accusative NP. However, when ‑tai is added,
as in (26b), the same object can be marked with the nominative ga, and the
subject person is normally restricted to the speaker. (This phenomenon is
discussed in Subsection 24.2.5.)
(26) a.
Watashi ga wain o nomu.

I NOM wine ACC drink

‘I drink wine.’
b.
Watashi wa wain ga/o nomi-tai.

I TOP wine NOM/ACC drink-want

‘I want to drink wine.’

Many native speakers of Japanese would prefer ga to o in (26b), but

when the transitivity is very high, the preference for o-marking increases.
According to (13h: agency), for example, (27a) with a human object is
higher in transitivity than (26b), which involves a non-human object.
Therefore, more native speakers are likely to prefer o in (27a). When the
transitivity is even higher, as in (27b), most native speakers would select o.
These examples show that o-marking is sensitive to the transitivity of the
clause.
(27) a.
Kekkon-shiki ni tejinashi ga/o yobi-tai.

wedding-ceremony to magician NOM/ACC hire-want

‘I want to hire a magician for (my) wedding-ceremony.’

153
 b.
Watashi wa buchō ga/o koroshi-tai.

I TOP section.chief NOM/ACC kill-want

‘I want to kill (my) section chief.’

1 In English, some METEOROLOGICAL VERBS, e.g. rain, drizzle, do not
require arguments. In such a case, the semantically empty pronoun it is
inserted to complete a sentence, e.g. It rained.
2 Like verbs, some adjectival and nominal predicates require more than
one argument. For example, tomodachi da ‘be a friend’ as in Watashi wa
tomodachi da ‘I’m a friend’ is semantically incomplete. In order to
understand this sentence, the hearer needs to know with whom the speaker
is friends. Therefore, the person that the speaker befriends is considered an
argument.
3 With the exception of some pronouns (e.g. I = nominative, me =
accusative), case in English is not marked formally. It is encoded by the
location of words in a clause: typically, the position before the predicate is
for the nominative, and the one immediately after the predicate is for the
accusative.
4 See Okutsu (1967), Morita (1994), and Kageyama (1996) for further
discussions of transitive qua intransitive verbs.
5 Although iku ‘go’ requires two arguments, it is semantically intransitive
because it does not indicate the relationship between the subject, e.g.
Midori, and the goal, e.g. the library. Rather, iku describes the subject’s
location at two different points in time.
6 Ni in (10b) is the ALLATIVE case marker, which indicates the goal of a
motion. Whether or not the ni-marked NPs in (9) and (10b) should be
labeled differently (dative and allative, respectively) is not a settled topic.
Some linguists, e.g. Iwasaki (2002), invariably label ni as dative, while
others, e.g. Shibatani (1990), sometimes label it as dative but at other times
as representing various prepositional meanings, e.g. to, in, at. In order to
simplify exposition, this book normally provides corresponding English
prepositions rather than case names.
7 The term valence was introduced in linguistics circles by Lucien
Tesnière (1959/1976).
8 Hopper and Thompson’s ideas are somewhat modified and simplified
here to make their relevance clearer within the context of the Japanese

154
language.
9 Were the event not volitional, the complex predicate koroshite shimatta
would be preferred.
10 At one time, I, like Martin, equated nominative with subject, but I am
now convinced that accepting a nominative-marked direct object is more
appropriate when considering the concept of transitivity as discussed
above. The reader can likewise select either stance because both are
equally persuasive and equally problematic.
11 Dative subjects are frequently marked with wa as well (see Section
8.13).

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 8 Subjects and topics
8.1 Introduction
One of the most difficult aspects of the study and use of Japanese grammar
involves the distinction between ga and wa. Textbooks commonly explain
that the primary function of ga is to mark the subject, although, as seen in
Chapter 7, ga-marked NPs do not always qualify conceptually as subjects.
On the other hand, wa is said to mark a TOPIC. In ordinary language, both
subject and topic can be loosely defined as the focal point of discussion.
Therefore, subject and topic do overlap in function – that is, many subjects
are also topics, and many topics are commonly expressed as subjects. In
linguistics, however, subject and topic refer to drastically different
concepts. Subject is a grammatical relation held between a given
constituent, typically an NP, and the predicate. That is, the scope of a
subject is limited to a clause, or to a sentence if the sentence is mono-
clausal. Topic, on the other hand, references a much broader notion. It is
normal to consider the topic of a paragraph, the topic of a chapter, or even
the topic of an entire book. In other words, the scope of a topic is a
DISCOURSE (or a TEXT); that is, a sequence of sentences organized by a
specific purpose.
This difference in scope between subject and topic makes elucidation of
ga and wa a challenge because they do not necessarily contrast on the
same bases. When a sentence is examined in isolation, ga and wa can often
be used interchangeably; however, when that same sentence is embedded
in a discourse, either ga or wa might not be usable. Another reason for
difficulty is that the selection criteria for these particles are not mutually
exclusive. In the same sentences, ga might be appropriate according to one
criterion, but wa preferable according to another. To put it differently, the
distinction between ga and wa is primarily a matter of INFORMATION
PACKAGING, i.e. how the message is sent, rather than the content of the
message itself (Chafe 1976: 28).
8.2 Identifiability
The following two sentences depict the same situation:
(1) a.
Tsukue no ue ni hon ga aru.

desk GEN top on book NOM exist

‘There is a book on [the top of] the desk.’

156
 b.
Hon wa tsukue no ue ni aru.

book TOP desk GEN top on exist

‘The book is on [the top of] the desk.’

Nevertheless, these two sentences are not interchangeable. Hon wa in

(1b) cannot be used unless the speaker believes that the addressee can
identify the referent (i.e. the book). This notion of IDENTIFIABILITY is
indispensable for topichood. A subject, by comparison, need not be
identifiable. English has a special sentence pattern referred to as the
THERE-CONSTRUCTION, which is used to introduce an unidentifiable
entity into a discourse, as in (1a). Its Japanese counterpart is the use of the
existential verbs iru and aru. When these verbs are used for this purpose,
the subject uniformly occurs with the nominative ga, not with the topic-
marker wa.
In English, identifiable NPs are typically marked with the DEFINITE
ARTICLE the, as in (1b), and unidentifiable NPs by an INDEFINITE
ARTICLE a/an, as in (1a). Notwithstanding such a distinction,
identifiability is a supposedly universal cognitive category, whereas
DEFINITENESS is a grammatical category, which can be idiosyncratic to a
given language. In fact, among languages that employ definite articles (e.g.
French, German, Greek, Italian), their use or non-use can vary
considerably when depicting the same entity in the same situation
(Lambrecht 1994: 79–87).
The referent of an interrogative phrase (a form used for questioning) –
e.g. dare ‘who’, nani ‘what’, doko ‘where’ – is unknown to the speaker,
i.e. unidentifiable, so it cannot be marked by wa, although it can be
marked by ga.
(2) a.
Dare ga/*wa kimashita ka? [INT = interrogative
particle]

who NOM/TOP came INT

‘Who came?’
b.
Nani ga/*wa miemasu ka?

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 what NOM/TOP visible INT

‘What is visible?’
c.
Doko ga/*wa kowarete imasu ka?

where NOM/TOP is.broken INT

‘Where [which part] is it broken?’

Likewise, the referent of an INDEFINITE phrase (e.g. dareka ‘someone’,

nanika ‘something’, dokoka ‘somewhere’) is supposed to be unidentifiable
by the speaker and/or the hearer, and can therefore be marked by ga, but
not by wa. The terms interrogative and indefinite are frequently confused,
and it is crucial to understand the conceptual difference between them.
Compare the interrogative expressions of (2) and the corresponding
indefinites in (3) to clarify the difference. The sentences in (2) cannot be
used unless the corresponding question in (3) is presumed to have an
affirmative answer.
(3) a.
Dareka ga/*wa kimashita ka?1

someone NOM/TOP came INT

‘Did someone come (here)?’

b.
Nanika ga/*wa miemasu ka?

something NOM/TOP visible INT

‘Is something visible?’

c.
Dokoka ga/*wa kowarete imasu ka?

somewhere NOM/TOP is.broken INT

‘[Lit.] Is someplace (of it) broken?’

‘Is (it) broken someplace?’

158
8.3 Anaphoric topics
In a discourse, the usual way to make a referent identifiable is the
mechanism of ANAPHORA, which refers to the relationship between two
expressions co-occurring and co-referring within a single discourse.
Anaphora consists of two parts: the preceding part is called an
ANTECEDENT, and the following part an ANAPHOR. The following is the
opening passage of Momotaro, ‘Peach Boy’, a popular Japanese folktale
(see Section 2.1).
(4)
Mukashi mukashi aru tokoro ni ojīsan to obāsan

old.days certain place in old.man and old.woman

sunde Aru hi ojīsan wa yama e shibakari

imashita.

were.living certain day old.man TOP mountain to gather.firewood

ni, obāsan wa kawa e sentaku ni ikimashita

for old.woman TOP river to washing for went

‘A long long time ago, there lived an old man and an old woman. One day, the old
man went to the mountain to gather firewood, and the old woman went to the
river to wash clothes.’

The old couple is first introduced into the discourse with ga (ojīsan to
obāsan ga), which serves as the antecedent. At this point, they are
unidentifiable and translated into English with the indefinite article an (an
old man and an old woman). Although the reader does not know these
referents, they are nonetheless registered in his/her mind. They are
hitching posts for new knowledge, to use Chafe’s (1976: 44) metaphor.
Once the referents are registered, the NPs can be marked with wa (ojīsan
wa … obāsan wa …), and in English the use of the definite article the is
standard.
8.4 Generic topics
As discussed, topics must be identifiable, and one way to establish identity
is through anaphora. Another identifiable case is when the referent is
GENERIC, i.e. when a class of entities, rather than an individual in the

159
class, is denoted. In Japanese, generic NPs are uniformly marked with wa;
in English, however, they can be expressed with a plural NP (5a), with a
singular NP with the (5b), or a/an (5c), or with a singular NP without an
article (5d).
(5) a.
Ari wa satō o konomu.

ant TOP sugar ACC like

‘Ants like sugar.’

b.
Nō wa ōku no nikutai-kinō o tsukasadoru.

brain TOP many bodily function ACC control

‘The brain controls many bodily functions.’

c.
Rakuda wa mizu nashi de 3-shūkan ikirareru.

camel TOP water without 3-weeks can.live

‘A camel can live for three weeks without water.’

d.
Wain wa kono chihō no jūyō na sanbutsu da.

wine TOP this region GEN important product is

‘Wine is an important product of this region.’

8.5 Unique topics

Some entities are known by the speaker and addressee uniquely and are,
therefore, identifiable.
(6) a.
Taiyō wa nishi ni shizumu.

sun TOP west in set

‘The sun sets in the west.’

b.
Midori wa konai to itta.

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 TOP not.come QUOT said

‘Midori said she won’t come.’

Under normal circumstances, taiyō ‘sun’ refers to our sun. In (6b), if

Midori is not known by both interlocutors, or if they know more than one
person whose name is Midori, the referent must be properly introduced
into the discourse as happens in this example sentence: Yesterday, I met
Midori, a friend of mine.
8.6 Non-subject topics
A topic is frequently encoded as a subject, but it does not need to be.
When the topic is not a subject, wa can be used, though ga is
ungrammatical. In (7), yasai ‘vegetable’ is the direct object of tabemasu
‘eat’, so it cannot be marked by ga.
(7)
Yamada: Tanaka- wa shōshoku desu ne. [SFP =
san sentence-
final
particle]

TOP light.eater is SFP

‘Tanaka-san, you’re a light eater.’

Tanaka: Yasai wa/*ga takusan tabemasu yo.

vegetable TOP/NOM a.lot eat SFP

‘[Lit.] Vegetables, I eat a lot.’

‘I eat lots of vegetables, though.’

8.7 Topic–comment vs. event reporting sentences

We can consider two broad classes of sentences: TOPIC–COMMENT and
EVENT REPORTING. In order to interpret a topic–comment sentence, we
perform two activities: (i) identify the referent of the wa-marked NP, and
(ii) construe the comment part as new information about the referent
(Kuroda 1972). By contrast, in an event-reporting sentence – e.g. one that

161
is used to respond to the question What happened? – we treat all entities in
the sentence equally, not designating one for the special status of topic that
the balance of the sentence is about. That is, if you answer What
happened? with Mia bought a new car, the sentence is not about Mia, but
about her buying a new car.2 In contrast, if the question is What happened
to Mia? and the answer is Mia bought a new car, the latter sentence is
about Mia, designated as the topic. The Japanese language is sensitive to
this distinction. Wa is used in the topic–comment construction, whereas ga
is used in the non-topical, event reporting sentence type. Compare the
following:
(8) a.
Hito wa shinu.

human TOP die

‘All men die,’ or ‘Man is mortal.’

b.
Hito ga shinu.

human NOM die

‘People will die.’

In (8a), it is important to first recognize that hito wa is referenced

generically, and that the comment part of the sentence denotes a constant
characteristic of the category of human being. By contrast, (8b) does not
assert a universal truth about human beings. Rather, it predicts a specific
event in the future with indefinite referents. One might articulate this
sentence when a war is rumored.
Similarly, (9a) indicates a permanent property of the sky, whereas (9b)
describes a particular scene that the speaker is reporting about at the time
s/he witnesses it.
(9) a.
Sora wa aoi.

sky TOP blue

‘The sky is blue.’

‘The sky is an entity that is blue.’

162
 b.
Wā, sora ga aoi.

wow sky NOM blue

‘Wow, the sky is blue!’

8.8 Attribute description

Participants in a reported event need not be identifiable as exemplified in
(10):
(10)
Tsūkōnin ga mado o kowashita.

passerby NOM window ACC broke

‘A passerby broke a window.’

However, when some ATTRIBUTE (a characteristic or quality inherent

in the entity) is to be described, the entity must be identifiable. Otherwise,
the sentence would sound anomalous, e.g. #A passerby is tall (the pound
symbol # indicates that the expression is grammatical, and yet
unacceptable for various reasons). Therefore, adjectival and nominal
predicates normally co-occur with NP-wa, rather than NP-ga.
(11) a.
Kono rapputoppu wa karui. [adjectival predicate]

this laptop TOP light

‘This laptop is light.’

b.
Shigeru wa kangoshi da. [nominal predicate]

TOP nurse is

‘Shigeru is a nurse.’

8.9 Focus
In contrast with (11), when the subject that is characterized or described is
marked by ga, it becomes the FOCUS of the sentence, the most informative
part, because it is unpredictable in the given context (Lambrecht 1994:

163
207). In English, this notion of focus can be expressed with a CLEFT
CONSTRUCTION as in (12).3
(12) a.
Kono rapputoppu ga karui.

this laptop NOM light

‘It is this laptop that is light.’

b.
Shigeru ga kangoshi da.

NOM nurse is

‘It is Shigeru who is a nurse.’

When a question consists of an interrogative subject, the portion of the

answer that corresponds to this unidentified entity is naturally the most
informative part, and, therefore, marked by ga. In (13), watashi wa in B’s
utterance sounds unacceptable because the sentence is not about the
speaker, but about the event in which the speaker is a mere participant.
(13) A:
Dare ga kore o tsukuttan desu ka?4

who NOM this ACC made is INT

‘Who made this?’

B:
Watashi ga/#wa tsukurimashita.

I NOM/TOP made

‘I made it.’

In English, I’m going to and I’ll are interchangeable in many, if not

most, contexts. However, if the lecturer enters your classroom and says,
Oh, I forgot to bring the projector, and you decide to volunteer to bring it,
you should say I’ll go get it, not #I’m going to go get it, because the latter
indicates that the activity is pre-planned, not decided on site. This
distinction can be captured by the use of ga and wa. In (14a), the use of ga
conveys a decision just made at the time of the utterance while the use of

164
wa does not. On the other hand, in (14b), wa, but not ga, is appropriate if
answering the question, Is everybody going to the lecture this evening?
(14) a.
Watashi ga/#wa motte-kimasu.

I NOM/TOP carry-come

‘I’ll go get it.’

b.
Watashi #ga/wa ikimasu.

I NOM/TOP go

‘I’m going.’

8.10 Contrastive wa
Wa has a contrastive (CNT) function, in which case the NP does not have
to be identifiable.
(15) a.
Ōzei hito wa pātī ni kimashita ga, omoshiroi
no

many people CNT party to came but interesting

wa hitori mo imasendeshita. (Kuno 1973: 47)

CNT one.person even did.not.exist

‘Many people came to the party, but there were none who were interesting.’
b.
Tegami wa kimashita.

letter TOP/CNT came

‘The letter came.’ [non-contrastive] or ‘A letter came (but there was

nothing else).’
c.
Dare wa kite, dare wa konakattan desu ka?

who CNT came.and who CNT did.not.come is INT

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 ‘Who came, and who didn’t come?’

The first half of (15a), ōzei no hito wa pātī ni kimashita ‘many people
came’, is unacceptable if it stands by itself because ōzei no hito is
unidentifiable and yet marked by wa. However, when a contrast is added
by means of the second half, the sentence becomes acceptable. (15b) is
ambiguous. If tegami ‘letter’ is identifiable (e.g. when the interlocutors
have been talking about a specific letter), the sentence is interpreted as
consisting of the topic–comment construction, but if tegami is not
identifiable, the hearer automatically interprets the sentence as contrastive,
implying that something else has not arrived. With a strong emphasis on
contrast, even interrogative subject NPs can be marked with wa as shown
in (15c).
8.11 Negative-scope marker wa
Wa can mark the SCOPE OF NEGATION, i.e. specifying what is negated.
(16) a.
Kenkyūsho wa yomimasen.

research.book TOP/NEG-SCP not.read

‘I don’t read scholarly books.’

b.
Kenkyūsho wa kai wa shimasu ga yomi wa

research.book TOP buy CNT do but read NEG-

SCP

‘As for scholarly books, I buy them, but don’t read them.’

In (16a), kenkyūsho o ‘research book (accusative)’ is possible, but when

the sentence is negative, wa-marking sounds more natural. Kenkyūsho wa
here is thus ambiguous between the topic and the negative-scope reading.
If the interlocutors have already been talking about scholarly books, wa is
a topic marker. On the other hand, if the speaker of (16a) is responding to
someone else’s comment that the speaker is a diligent researcher, this
utterance would indicate that s/he buys research books but does not read
them. It also implies that the speaker possibly reads something other than
scholarly books. In this case, the concept of scholarly book is introduced
into discourse by this very utterance, like yasai ‘vegetables’ in (7). Put

166
differently, wa-marking of an NP can enable the hearer to project negation
early on in interpreting an utterance. This function is particularly
significant because in Japanese negation does not actually appear until the
end of the clause.
In (16b), the first wa is normally construed as a topic marker, but the
second and third occurrences of NP-wa cannot be topics. That is, it is
unlikely that the utterance is about buying and reading things in this
context. While both the second and the third wa can be analyzed uniformly
as contrastive, I prefer to mark the third wa as negative-scope marking
because this function is most saliently perceived here. As shown with these
examples, the distinctions among topic, contrast, and negative scope are
not clear-cut. They overlap, and when the NP is simultaneously the topic,
contrastive, and in a negative sentence, wa-marking is most strongly called
for.
Negative-scope marking wa can appear freely with constituents other
than NPs or verbs (McGloin 1987: 173–74).
(17) a.
Kono kyōkasho wa atarashiku wa nai. [i-adjective]

this textbook TOP new NEG- neg

SCP

‘This textbook is not new.’

b.
Jōzu ni wa kakenai. [adverbial]

well NEG-SCP cannot.write

‘(I can write it, but) I can’t write (it) well.’

c.
Zenbu wa dekinakatta. [adverb]

all NEG-SCP could.not

‘(I did some, but) I couldn’t do (them) all.’

8.12 Dependent clauses

A sentence can consist of one or more clauses. The one that can stand by
itself is called the MAIN CLAUSE, and others the DEPENDENT CLAUSES.

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There are three types of dependent clauses: (i) subordinate clauses, (ii)
noun-modifying clauses, and (iii) quotative clauses. Subordinate clauses
normally augment the main clause with additional information such as
time, condition, reason, etc.5 A sentence asserts the content of the main
clause, but not that of a subordinate clause. Therefore, subordinate clauses
cannot contain a topic. In (18a), Midori is the topic as well as subject, but
when the sentence is converted into a subordinate clause, e.g. to specify
the time frame of some other event, as in (18b), Midori is no longer the
topic, although it remains as the subject of katta ‘bought’, and must be
marked with ga.
(18) a.
Midori wa kabu o katta.

TOP stock ACC bought

‘Midori bought stocks.’

b.
Midori ga/#wa kabu o katta toki, kaisha

NOM/TOP stock ACC bought when company

tōsan sunzen datta.

bankruptcy right.before was

‘When Midori bought the stocks, the company was about to go

bankrupt.’

The underlined part in (19) exemplifies noun-modification clauses,

which will be discussed in detail in Chapter 14. Like subordinate clauses,
noun-modifying clauses do not assert their contents; therefore, the topic-
marker wa does not occur in them.
(19)
Watashi ga/#wa kinō mita eiga wa omoshiroku-
nakatta.

I NOM/TOP yesterday saw movie TOP interesting-

not

‘The movie (I) saw yesterday was not interesting.’

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 QUOTATIVE CLAUSES (see Chapters 15 and 27), which represent other
persons’ utterances, are the exception to this rule. When an NP is marked
with wa in reported speech, wa is maintained even when the clause is
embedded into a larger reporting sentence. This is due to the fact that in a
quotative sentence two voices (those of the original speaker and the
reporting speaker) are represented, and each speaker’s perspective (e.g.
designation of a topic) must be separately maintained. In (20b) shiken wa
muzukashikatta is a quotative clause, and Midori wa … to itta a reporting
clause.
(20) a.
Shiken wa muzukashikatta.

examination TOP was.difficult

‘The examination was difficult.’

b.
Midori wa shiken wa muzukashikatta to itta

TOP examination TOP was.difficult QUOT said

‘Midori said that the examination was difficult.’

When wa marks contrast, rather than mere topic, it can occur in

subordinate clauses.
(21) a.
Kuruma ga/#wa kowareta node mukae ni ikemasen

car NOM/TOP broke because pick.up for cannot.go

‘Because (my) car broke down, (I) can’t go pick (you) up.’
b.
Kuruma ga/wa kowarete-mo ōtobai ga aru

car NOM/CNT broke-though motorcycle NOM exist

node mukae ni ikemasu.

because pick.up for can.go

‘Although (my) car broke down, (I) can go pick (you) up because (I)

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 have a motorcycle.’

8.13 The wa–ga construction

In English, the notions of subject and topic are difficult, sometimes
impossible, to disentangle. In contrast, a single Japanese sentence can have
a distinct topic (NP-wa) and subject (NP-ga). As demonstrated by the four
sentences in (22), the topic in this construction delimits the applicability of
the statement that includes the subject referent.
(22) a.
Midori wa piano ga aru.

TOP piano NOM exit

‘[Lit.] Midori, there is a piano.’

‘Midori has a piano.’

b.
Watashi wa tomodachi ga ōi.

I TOP friend NOM numerous

‘[Lit.] Me, friends are numerous.’

‘I have many friends.’

c.
Umeboshi wa Wakayama ga yūmei da.

pickled.plum TOP Wakayama NOM famous is

‘[Lit.] Pickled plums, Wakayama is famous.’

‘Wakayama is famous for pickled plums.’

d.
Sakana wa sake ga oishii.

fish TOP salmon NOM delicious

‘Of fish, salmon is (the most) delicious.’

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 A commonly employed translation strategy for the wa–ga construction
is as for X, e.g. As for Midori, there is a piano for (22a). However, Chafe
(1976: 50) cautions that this strategy is misleading because the original
Japanese sentence does not carry contrastive connotation, vis-à-vis
someone other than Midori, but as for X inevitably does.
8.14 Staging
An explanation of wa as a special rhetorical device is appropriate at this
point. A written text can begin with an NP-wa even when the reader is
unable to identify the intended referent. For instance, the text presented in
the following section begins with the sentence The Visor Television
Company shipped 1,000 television sets to a large department store chain.
Although Visor Television Company is a fictitious name and is therefore
unidentifiable, it is nevertheless more natural to mark this name with wa,
rather than with ga. This specialized use of wa is limited to written texts.
In a spoken discourse, the speaker needs to supply some introductory
passage – e.g. There’s a TV manufacturer called Visor Television
Company. Have you heard of it? And then s/he can continue the story
about this TV manufacturer. Otherwise, the speech would sound strange,
possibly incomprehensible.
Borrowing from Maynard (1987), I label this use of wa to mark an
unidentifiable entity at the opening of a written text STAGING. Maynard
defines staging as the narrator’s selection of an event participant whose
point of view is taken as the basis of the narration. That is, the participant
is selected as the protagonist, and the narrative is constructed as if the
event is perceived by him/her. Although Maynard’s definition of the term
staging is much broader than what is intended here, I nevertheless adopt
this term because it provides the most illustrative image of this function of
wa – the entity marked with wa at the beginning of a written discourse is,
metaphorically speaking, placed on the theatrical stage as the protagonist.
This rhetorical technique of staging occurs only at the beginning of a
written text.
8.15 A case study
In this final section, let us consider the distinction between ga and wa in a
real discourse. The following is a text drawn from a logic textbook (Baum
1981); the translation is by me. At each point where either ga or wa must
be chosen, I have placed a blank square. The proper filler of each square is
discussed following the passage.

171
The Visor Television Company shipped 1,000 television sets to a
large department store chain. During the next three months, 115 of
the sets were returned. In each case, the picture reception was good,
but there was no sound. Examining the first group of ten returned
sets, a plant inspection supervisor noticed that, in every set, a certain
wire to the speaker was improperly soldered. She also noticed that the
same person – Bill Evans, a fairly new employee – had done the
soldering. The supervisor inspected the next group of returned sets
and found the same improperly soldered wire in each. She concluded
that Bill Evans’ faulty soldering was the cause of the problem.
Baizā- □1 terebi 1,000- o ōte depāto
terebi- dai
gaisha

Visor- TV 1,000- ACC major department-

television- units store
company

chēn ni shukka ga, 3- inai ni sono uchi 115-

shita kagetsu dai

chain to shipped but 3- within that within 115-

months units

henpin sarete Sorera no terebi □3 gazō □4 seijō

kita.

were.returned those GEN TV picture normal

onsei □5 denakatta. Seihin- □6 saisho 10- o

kanri- no dai
kakarichō

sound did.not.emit product- first 10- ACC

control- units
supervisor

kensa tokoro, izure mo supīkā e no haisen

shita

172
inspected when everyone speaker to GEN connection

ni mondai □7 atta. Mata, saikin koyō sareta

in problem existed and recently was.employed

handa- no sagyō o okonatta koto mo kakunin

zuke sareta

soldering GEN operation ACC did fact also was.confirmed

□9 tsugi modotte terebi o kensa shi, onaji

ni kita

next returned TV ACC inspection do.and same

hakken Shitagatte, kakarichō □10 Biru no sagy

shita. Ebansu

discovered consequently supervisor GEN operation

□11 mondai no gen’in da to no ketsuron

problem GEN cause COP QUOT GEN conclusion

□1 Baizā-terebi-gaisha ‘Visor Television Company’ is

unidentifiable. Therefore, the use of ga is justified (see Section
8.2), and indeed many native speakers of Japanese would likely
select ga here. Nevertheless, I prefer wa in this case for the
rhetorical effect of staging. This example illustrates that the
choice between ga and wa can be based on stylistic preference,
and not only on grammatical rules.
□2 Ga is more appropriate here than wa because 115-dai ‘115
units’ is unidentifiable. Wa would be possible only if a strong
contrast were intended, which is unlikely in this case.
□3 Wa must be selected here because sorera no terebi ‘those
TVs’ is anaphoric (see Section 8.3). Additionally, it is in the wa–
ga construction (see Section 8.13), e.g. Sorera no terebi wa gazō
ga kirei da ‘Those TVs, picture is sharp’.

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 □4 This clause is in the second part of the wa–ga construction,
but the use of ga is anomalous. This irregularity is due to the
salient contrast being expressed (Section 8.10), i.e. the picture
reception was normal, but something else was not normal.
Therefore, wa must be selected.
□5 The use of wa is justifiable here because this is the second
part of the contrast, indicating what was abnormal. However, I
prefer the use of ga for focusing (Section 8.9), i.e. it was the
sound that was not functioning. Here, again, some native
speakers of Japanese are likely to select wa.
□6 Ga must be selected because seihin-kanri-kakarichō ‘plant
inspection supervisor’ is the subject of the subordinate clause, X
ga Y o kensa shita tokoro ‘when X inspected Y’.
□7 I prefer ga because this is a typical situation corresponding to
the English there construction (there was a problem in the
soldering), as shown in (1a). However, the selection of wa is also
reasonable because mondai ‘problem’ is already implied by the
preceding sentence. Therefore, although the word mondai has not
been explicitly mentioned, it can be construed as an anaphor,
which is normally marked by wa.
□8 This must be ga because the NP is included in an event
reporting clause (Section 8.7), Bill Evans did the soldering, as
well as in a dependent clause (Section 8.12), the fact that Bill
Evans did the soldering.
□9 Anaphoric wa.
□10 Anaphoric wa.
□11 This must be ga because the NP is the subject of the
dependent clause, to no ketsuron ‘the conclusion that …’.
1 With an indefinite dareka, nanika, or dokoka, the use of a case particle
is optional. For example, Dareka kimashita ka? ‘Did someone come?’ is a
well-formed sentence.
2 We normally do not report a new event in a subordinate clause. For
example, with When my father died, I inherited the house, I report my
inheritance, not my father’s death. Therefore, event reporting is a main-
clause phenomenon.
3 Cleft sentence refers to grammatical constructions in which an original
single clause, e.g. Jacob is a student, is divided into two parts, e.g. It is
Jacob who is a student.

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4 This type of sentence with the copula desu will be discussed in Chapter
15.
5 When two clauses of equal status are independent of each other, they are
said to be in COORDINATION, not in subordination. For example, the
Japanese connective ga ‘but/and’ forms such a clausal relationship, e.g.
Kore wa yasui ga, are wa takai ‘This is inexpensive, but that is expensive’.
Theoretically, the distinction between subordination and coordination is
highly complex. See Hasegawa (1996a: 8–16) for detailed discussion.

175
 9 Tense, aspect, and taxis
9.1 Introduction
Time is an intellectual construct necessary to conceive of and to
comprehend changes in the world around us. Grammatical notions of time
are manifestations of the human experience of time, traditionally
characterized in terms of tense, aspect, and taxis. TENSE frames time
linearly as a past–present–future continuum and establishes the
relationship between the time of the depicted situation and the moment of
speech. ASPECT is defined as the assessment or characterization of the
denoted situation “as it progresses or as it is distributed in time, but
irrespective of the moment of speech or … of the time of another action,
mentioned or implied” (Maslov 1988: 63). TAXIS, which is less common
than tense and aspect, is concerned with the chronological relationship
between two situations: i.e. do they occur simultaneously; does one take
precedence; is there a perceived sequentiality?
In the modern world, people consider tense to be indispensable for an
understanding of reality. Nonetheless, a tense system is not an ontological
necessity. Historically, aspect is primary, and tense secondary in Indo-
European languages (Kurylowicz 1964; Bybee 1985), and creole
languages are inherently aspectual (Givón 1982; Kotsinas 1989).1 For pre-
modern people, more salient than tense per se was whether or not a certain
change had occurred and whether or not the speaker could ascertain its
occurrence with confidence. If the speaker was certain, the hearer would
naturally interpret the change to have occurred in the past. Tense has thus
emerged as secondary. Tense is abstract, intellectual, and objective; aspect,
on the other hand, is definite, impressionistic, and subjective (Izui 1967:
85), involving not only the temporal contour of a situation, but a number
of other factors that are not strictly temporal (Michaelis 1993: 17), e.g.
modality and evidentiality (Chapter 24), resultativity (Section 9.7),
transitivity (Section 7.4), and distribution of focus over sentential
constituents (Section 8.9). Ancient Japanese people conceived of time
quite differently than their modern Japanese counterparts as evidenced by
the fact that the word toki ‘time’ in classical Japanese meant a moment or
occasion appropriate to starting a certain action (Wada 1994), e.g. toki no
koe [Lit. voice of the time] meaning ‘a battle cry’.
9.2 Tense
With regard to tense, English makes a three-way distinction (past–present–

176
future), while Japanese makes a two-way distinction (past vs. non-past).
As explained in Section 6.1, Japanese has two verbal suffixes, -ta/-da (e.g.
hanashi-ta ‘talked’, non-da ‘drank’, tabe-ta ‘ate’) and -u/-ru, collectively
as -ru, (e.g. nom-u ‘drink’, tabe-ru ‘eat’).2 The former is referred to as the
PAST TENSE FORM, and the latter as the NON-PAST TENSE FORM. For
adjectives, the past tense form ends in -katta (e.g. samu-katta ‘was cold’),
and the non-past tense form in -i (e.g. samu-i ‘is cold’). The past tense
form of the copula is datta, and the non-past tense form is da. Their polite
equivalents are deshita (past) and desu (non-past). (Polite forms will be
discussed in Chapter 20.)
The -ru form indicates present time only when the predicate is STATIVE,
which expresses not an event or action, but a state of affairs (i.e. no change
is involved): e.g. ar-u/i-ru ‘exist’, chiga-u ‘differ’, deki-ru ‘is able to do
something’, ir-u ‘need’. When the predicate is DYNAMIC, expressing some
change, -ru indicates future time as exemplified in (1a). English has many
stative verbs, e.g. contain, know, live, love, own, resemble, whereas most
Japanese verbs are dynamic, and cannot be used in the -ru form to describe
a present state. Instead, the -te iru construction must be utilized as in (1b).
(1) a.
Watashi wa kariforunia ni sum-u.

I TOP California in live-NPST

‘I’ll live in California.’

b.
Watashi wa kariforunia ni sun-de i-ru.

I TOP California in live-TE exist-NPST

‘I live in California,’ or ‘I’m living in California.’

In mono-clausal sentences that occur in isolation, -ta and -ru mark past
and non-past time, respectively.
(2) a.
Kinō wa ichinichijū uchi ni i-ta/*i-ru.

yesterday TOP all.day home at exist-PAST/*exist-

NPST

‘I stayed home all day yesterday.’

177
 b.
Ashita kaimono ni *it-ta/ik-u.

tomorrow shopping for *go-PAST/go-NPST

‘I’ll go shopping tomorrow.’

However, in multi-clausal sentences or sentences embedded in a

discourse, -ta and -ru do not necessarily designate tense as exemplified in
(3).
(3) a.
Fushin na nimotsu o mi-ta toki wa, sugu ni

suspicious luggage ACC see-PAST time TOP immediately

ni tsūhō shite kudasai.

to report do.TE please

‘Report to the police immediately when (you) find suspicious luggage.’

b.
Marī wa uchi o deru to eki e mukatta

TOP house ACC leave-NPST when station to headed

‘After leaving (her) house, Mary headed for the station.’

Nevertheless, in the following sentence types derived from Kunihiro

(1967: 56–68) the glosses PAST and NPST are retained as the labels for -ta
and -ru, respectively.
(4) The past tense form
a. A situation that materialized in the past and still exists:
Ōkiku nat-ta ne.

big become-PAST SFP

‘You’ve grown, haven’t you?’

b.Sudden discovery that a certain state of affairs has continuously
existed:

178
 A, soko ni i-ta no.

oh there at exist-PAST SFP

‘Oh, there you are!’

c. Sudden recalling of a future event or plan that the speaker has
known as definite:
A, ashita shiken ga at-ta.

oh tomorrow exam NOM exist-PAST

‘Oh, I have an exam tomorrow!’

d.A request for hearer’s confirmation of a fact (normally only in
questions):
Anata wa donata deshita ka? (Mikami 1953)

you TOP who COP.PAST INT

‘Who were you?’ (English also employs the past tense.)

e. Proclamation or assertion of the realization of a situation which has
not been realized:
Yoshi, kat-ta. (Suzuki 1965)

ok buy-PAST

‘All right, [I’m sold] I’ll buy it!’

f. A command (normally repeated twice):
Doi-ta, doi-ta.

step.back-PAST

‘Step back! Step back!’

(5) The non-past tense form

a. A past event:

179
 Kikizute-naranai koto o i-u ne.

ignore-cannot thing ACC say-NPST SFP

‘You’ve said something I can’t ignore.’

b. A step-by-step procedure (e.g. in recipes):
Tsugi ni shio o ire-ru.

next salt ACC put-NPST

‘Next, add some salt.’

c. A command:
Sugu ni tabe-ru.

immediately eat-NPST

‘Eat (it) now!’

These examples demonstrate that simply equating -ta and -ru with
English tenses is misleading and confusing.
9.3 Aspect
Compared with tense, aspect is a more subjective notion, in which
PERFECTIVE and IMPERFECTIVE are the most salient concepts. Comrie
(1976) describes them as follows.

[T]he perfective looks at the situation from outside, without

necessarily distinguishing any of the internal structure of the
situation, whereas the imperfective looks at the situation from inside,
and as such is crucially concerned with the internal structure of the
situation, since it can both look backwards towards the start of the
situation, and look forwards to the end of the situation, and indeed is
equally appropriate if the situation is one that lasts through all time,
without any beginning and without any end
(p. 4).
Aspect is not concerned with relating the time of the situation to any
other time-point, but rather with the internal temporal constituency of
the one situation; one could state the difference as one between

180
 situation–internal time (aspect) and situation–external time (tense)
(p. 5).
Sumu ‘reside’ in (1a) is perfective, designating the event as a whole,
whereas the -te iru construction in (1b) indicates the imperfective aspect –
i.e. the event in progress. The perfective involves the notion of
completeness (wholeness), which is sometimes confused with the notion of
completed (Comrie 1976: 18). Whether or not the situation is actually
completed (i.e. has already happened) is expressed by tense, not by
aspect.3
Unlike dynamic verbs, with stative verbs, e.g. those in (6), it is unclear
whether or not -ru marks perfective.4
(6) a.
Watashi wa kumērugo ga deki-ru.

I TOP Khmer.language NOM can-NPST

‘I can (speak) Khmer.’

b.
Nihon wa takusan no shima kara nar-u.

Japan TOP many island from consist-NPST

‘Japan consists of many islands.’

Are these situations depicted as a whole from the outside (perfective) or

from the inside (imperfective)? Is this even a meaningful question? It
seems more reasonable to conclude that the perfective–imperfective
distinction is neutralized when the predicate is stative.
The imperfective aspect, concerned with the internal structure of the
situation, is naturally more complex than the perfective. One subtype of
imperfective is HABITUAL, a situation characterized by extended time
(Comrie 1976: 27). In English, the habitual aspect is expressed with the
present tense form if the situation exists during speech time, but is
expressed with the used to construction if the situation no longer holds, as
in Mia used to eat meat. In Japanese, the former case is expressed with the
non-past form, e.g. (7a), and the latter with the past form, e.g. (7b), or with
the mono da construction, e.g. (7c).
(7) a.
Watashi wa yoku uta-u.

181
 I TOP often sing-NPST

‘I often sing.’
b.
Ano koro wa yoku utat-ta.

that time TOP often sing-PAST

‘(I) used to sing often.’

c.
Ano koro wa yoku utat-ta mono da.

that time TOP often sing-PAST thing COP.NPST

‘[Lit.] It is the case that (I) used to sing often.’

Another subtype of imperfective aspect is PROGRESSIVE. It is

expressed by the -te iru construction.
(8)
Midori wa piano o hii-te i-ta/i-ru.

TOP piano ACC play-TE exist-PAST/exist-NPST

‘Midori was/is playing the piano.’

There are other constructions for expressing various imperfective

aspects:
(9) a. Verb (adverbial) + tsutsu aru ‘about to start’
Midori ga piano o hiki-tsutsu ar-u.

NOM piano ACC play-about.to exist-NPST

‘Midori is about to play the piano.’

b. Verb (adverbial) + hajimeru ‘start’ [The situation has just begun.]
Midori ga piano o hiki-hajime-ta.

NOM piano ACC play-begin-PAST

182
 ‘Midori began to play the piano.’
c. Verb (adverbial) + tsuzukeru ‘continue’ [The situation continues.]
Midori ga piano o hiki-tsuzuke-ta.

NOM piano ACC play-continue-PAST

‘Midori continued playing the piano.’

9.4 Taxis
The term taxis – expressing the chronological relationship between two
situations – is less commonly used than are tense and aspect, but it is
nevertheless a very helpful notion for analyzing time-related concepts in
the Japanese language. As mentioned above, -ta and -ru can be considered
the past and the non-past, respectively, when the predicate is in a mono-
clausal sentence considered in isolation. However, a sentence normally
occurs within a coherent discourse, in which the comprehension of the
temporal relationships between events is indispensable. Compare the
following two situations:
(10) a.
Fushin na nimotsu o [mi-ta/#mi-ru] toki wa,

suspicious luggage ACC [see-PAST/#see-NPST] when TOP

sugu ni keisatsu ni tsūhō shite kudasai

Immediately police to report do.TE please

‘Report to the police immediately when (you) find suspicious luggage.’

b.
Okane o [#kashi-ta/kas-u] toki wa, aite

money ACC [#lend-PAST/lend-NPST] when TOP person

shirabe-nasai.

investigate-IMP

‘When (you) lend money, you should thoroughly check the recipient.’

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 In (10a), suspicious luggage must be found before reporting it to the
police. With the connective toki ‘when’, such a case requires -ta to indicate
that the subordinate event is completed before the main event. By contrast,
in (10b), it is advised to loan money only after checking the person.
Because -ta indicates the opposite order, -ru must be used if the
subordinate event is yet to be realized when the main event occurs. The
notion of completion in taxis should not be confused with the perfective
aspect, which refers to the event as a whole. In terms of aspect, both kashi-
ta and kas-u are perfective.
Next, consider the following:
(11) a.
Nihon ni ik-u toki, kono kamera o kaimashita

Japan to go-NPST when this camera ACC buy-PAST

‘When (I) went to Japan, (I) bought this camera.’

b.
Nihon ni it-ta toki, kono kamera o kaimashita.

go-PAST

‘When (I) went to Japan, (I) bought this camera.’

(11a) is unambiguous, the camera being bought before the speaker went
to Japan. By contrast, (11b) is ambiguous: the camera might have been
bought before the speaker’s departure or after his/her arrival in Japan. The
latter interpretation is in accordance with the explanation of (10), but the
former calls upon further explanation. In this interpretation, the event of
going to Japan is conceived as a whole (i.e. perfective proper), including
its preparatory phase up to its aftermath. Why, then, is such a perfective
interpretation precluded in (11a)? Although both ik-u and it-ta occur in a
subordinate clause, which can be free from the concept of tense, in this
particular case tense plays a significant role. Because both events occurred
in the past, ik-u in (11a) permits only the taxis reading, whereas it-ta in
(11b) permits both tense and taxis readings, resulting in the said
ambiguity.
9.5 Reference time
In order to account for various time-related phenomena in language,

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Reichenbach (1947) introduced the concepts of EVENT TIME and
REFERENCE TIME. Event time refers to the temporal location at which a
given situation (i.e. an event, action, or state) takes place; reference time is
determined contextually and located between event time and speech time.
In his framework, the past tense indicates that the event time is identical
with the reference time, which precedes the speech time. Consider the
following sentence derived from Somerset Maugham’s Of Human
Bondage:
(12) But Philip ceased to think of her a moment after he had settled down
in his carriage.
In a narrative, the series of recounted events determines the point of
reference. As exemplified in (12), it normally falls in the past. The
subordinate event – Philip’s action of settling down in his carriage – is
depicted not directly from the point of speech (past tense), but, rather,
from the reference time, i.e. when Philip ceased to think of her (past
perfect).
Some researchers analyze -ta and -ru along these lines. Ota (1972), for
example, argues that -ta indicates event time being prior to reference time,
and -ru otherwise. If no reference time is explicitly specified, speech time
serves as the default reference time, making -ta and -ru resemble tense
markers. In a dependent construction, e.g. a subordinate clause, reference
time is supplied by the construction on which it depends.
Miura (1974) points out that, in dependent constructions, not only the
main-clause time, but also the speech time can serve as the reference time
as in the following example:
(13)
Kanai no ike-ta hana ga ashita no

my.wife GEN arrange-PAST flower NOM tomorrow GEN

tenrankai ni de-ru.

exhibition in enter-NPST

‘Flowers that my wife [has arranged/will arrange] will be displayed in

tomorrow’s exhibition.’

In one reading, the flowers have already been arranged before the
speech time, and in the other, they will be arranged after the speech time

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but before the exhibition (i.e. the reference time).
The analysis that -ta designates the event time being prior to the
reference time and -ru otherwise cannot account for some cases
straightforwardly. The following is derived from Onoe (1995):
(14)
Naite tanom-u kara kane o kashite- no
yat-ta

crying ask-NPST because money ACC lend-give- NMLZ

PAST

‘Because (you) implored (me), (I) lent (you) the money.’

In (14), the reference time may be the time of lending the money or the
speech time, and the -ru marked imploration event is normally understood
to have occurred before lending the money as well as before the speech
time. (Marking with -ta is also possible here.) However, as a rule, -ru is to
indicate that the event is incompleted at the reference time. This
irregularity can be explained in such a way that the imploration is
understood to be continued while the speaker is handing the money.
Furthermore, unlike the connective toki ‘when’, which permits both -ta
and -ru (as in (10)), some connectives occur with only one or the other, but
not both, as in the following sentences.
(15) a.
Mado o [ake-ta/*ake-ru]-ra, kanarazu shimete

window ACC [open-PAST/*open-NPST]- surely close.TE

when

‘Please make sure to close it after you open the window.’

b.
Mado o [*ake-ta/ ake-ru]-to, tori ga haitte-ki-ta

window ACC [*open-PAST/open-NPST]- bird NOM enter-come-

when PAST

‘When I opened the window, a bird flew in.’

The connective -ra ‘when/if’ in (15a) allows only -ta, whereas the
connective to in (15b) only -ru. Both connectives indicate, among other

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things, an event sequence: the one in the subordinate clause occurs before
the main-clause event. The use of -ta in (15a) is consistent with its general
meaning of -ta, but the use of -ru in (15b) is not. These grammatical
restrictions are idiosyncratic and cannot be derived by means of any rule.
9.6 -Ta and -ru in discourse
-Ta and -ru frequently alternate in written as well as spoken discourse.
This can be regarded as a rhetorical phenomenon, as in the case of English,
where the present tense can be used for a past situation – the so-called
HISTORICAL PRESENT. The historical present is considered by many to
be a stylistic device with limited distribution (Wolfson 1979; Schiffrin
1981; Fleischman 1990). Soga (1983: 219) has this to say concerning
rhetorical uses of -ta and -ru in Japanese:
With the exception of the uses of -ru required by grammatical
restrictions, it is quite possible for an author to use only the -ta form
regardless of whether an event is “foreground” or “background.”5
Likewise, although it may not be very common, it should be possible
to use nothing but the non-past tense form regardless of the types of
the events described. In the former case, the story will be perceived
only in a matter-of-fact way, while in the latter it will be perceived as
if the reader is experiencing the events himself. In this sense,
therefore, it seems that proper uses of tense forms constitute an
element of the effective specific style of an author or of a story.
9.7 The perfect
The (present) perfect is the most complex category that deals with time-
related linguistic phenomena.6 It differs from the aspects proper (e.g.
perfective and imperfective) because the perfect tells us “nothing directly
about the situation in itself, but rather relates some state to a preceding
situation” (Comrie 1976: 52). In those languages that have both perfect
and past-tense forms, the semantics of the two invariably overlap, e.g. I
have eaten breakfast vs. I ate breakfast. The difference is traditionally
explained in such a way that, while both refer to a past event, the perfect
also signals its present relevance. This characterization is manifestly
inadequate because in normal conversation, the very act of mentioning an
event guarantees its present relevance, and the use of the perfect does not
transform an irrelevant piece of information into a relevant one.
In Reichenbach’s framework introduced in Section 9.5, the perfect
differs from the past tense in the location of the reference time. In the

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perfect, e.g. The door has been open, the reference time is aligned with the
speech time, whereas in the past tense, e.g. The door was open, it is
aligned with the event time. That is, if in answer to the question What did
you notice when you checked the cellar? and a witness responds The door
was open, the reference time is the time at which the witness checked the
cellar. The door may have been open for a long time beforehand, and it
may still be open, but the witness is making a claim for only a specific
time span in the past (the reference time), and the relationship between the
speech time and the event time (when the door was opened) is not
specified, i.e. the door may still be open (Klein 1992).
Comrie (1976: 56–61) divides the perfect into four subcategories: (i)
PERFECT OF RESULT, (ii) EXPERIENTIAL PERFECT, (iii) PERFECT OF
PERSISTENT SITUATION, and (iv) PERFECT OF RECENT PAST. The
difference between the first two is exemplified by these two sentences:
(16) a. Bill has gone to America.
b. Bill has been to America.
In (16a), the perfect of result, the present state that Bill is in America is
expressed as the result of a past event – that Bill went to America. In
(16b), the experiential perfect, the given event is said to have held at least
once during some time in the past leading up to the present, i.e. Bill went
to America at least once. Comrie considers the perfect of result to be the
clearest manifestation of the present relevance of a past event.
The closest resemblance to English perfect in Japanese is the -te iru
construction, which also expresses the progressive aspect, e.g. (8).
Although both situations in (16) can be expressed by a single construction
in Japanese, (17a), the difference between the perfect of result and the
experiential perfect emerges with other predicates, as in (17b) and (17c).
(17) a.
Biru wa Amerika ni it-te i-ru.

Bill TOP America to go-TE exist-NPST

‘Bill has [gone/been] to America.’

b.
Bīru ga reizōko ni hait-te i-ru. [perfect of result
only]

beer NOM refrigerator in enter-TE exist-NPST

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 ‘There is beer in the refrigerator.’
c.
Biru wa takusan hon o yon-de i-ru. [experiential
perfect
only]

Bill TOP many book ACC read-TE exist-NPST

‘Bill has read many books.’

The third category, the perfect of persistent situation, describes a

situation that began in the past and persists into the present, e.g. We’ve
lived here for ten years, which can be expressed by the -te iru construction
as in (18).
(18)
Watashitachi wa 10-nen koko ni sun-de i-ru.

we TOP 10-years here in live-TE exist-NPST

‘We’ve lived here for ten years.’

The final category, the perfect of recent past, is expressed in Japanese

with the -ta tokoro da construction.
(19)
Biru ga tsui-ta tokoro da.

Bill NOM arrive-PAST place COP.NPST

‘Bill has just arrived.’

A vital difference between the perfect and the past in English is the co-
occurrence restriction on temporal adverbials, as illustrated in (20).
(20) a. Bill has left the house.
b. *Bill has left the house at six o’clock.
c. Bill left the house at six o’clock.
Many languages, including Japanese, impose no such restriction.
(21) a.
Biru wa 6-ji ni ie o de-te i-ru.

Bill TOP 6- at house ACC leave-TE exist-NPST

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 o’clock

‘[Lit.] *Bill has left the house at six o’clock.’

b.
Watashi wa kinō 10-jikan ne-te i-ru.

I TOP yesterday 10-hours sleep-TE exist-NPST

‘[Lit.] *I have slept 10 hours yesterday.’

Most instances of the -te iru construction are, in principle, ambiguous

between progressive and perfect readings. However, the ambiguity is
normally resolved by a co-occurring adverbial and/or other expression.
(22) a.
Biru wa ima hon o yon-de i-ru.

Bill TOP now book ACC read-TE exist-NPST

‘Bill is reading a book now.’

b.
Biru wa 8000- mo hon o yon-de i-ru
satsu

Bill TOP 8000- as.many.as book ACC read-TE exist-

volumes

‘Bill has read as many as 8,000 books.’

9.8 The resultative

In the previous section, it was demonstrated that the -te iru construction
can indicate the perfect of result. In order to understand how the Japanese
language articulates temporal notions, it is necessary to recognize the
difference between the perfect of result and the RESULTATIVE proper as
exemplified by the two kinds of -te aru constructions. Although both
describe a present state as the result of a past event, several differences
exist between the two. For example, Nedjalkov and Jaxontov (1988: 15–
17) point to the following oppositions (for further discussion, see
Hasegawa 1992).
(23) a. The perfect does not alter the valence (see Section 7.3) of the base

190
 verb, whereas the resultative is predominantly intransitive.
b.Unlike the resultative, the perfect can be derived from any verb,
either transitive or intransitive, including those that denote
situations that involve no change of the state of any participant, e.g.
sing and laugh.
c. In the perfect, adverbials of moment, e.g. at three o’clock, denote
the moment at which the event takes place, whereas in the
resultative, they denote only the moment at which the state is in
existence.
While the valence of the base verb does not change in the -te iru
construction, it can be reduced by one in the -te aru construction. In (24a),
the logical direct object of the transitive verb tomeru ‘to park’ is marked
with the accusative o, and the logical subject with the nominative ga. In
(24b), by contrast, the logical direct object is marked with the nominative,
and the logical subject cannot be mentioned explicitly. In other words, the
valence of the base verb is maintained in (24a), but reduced by one in
(24b).
(24) a.
Midori ga michi ni kuruma o tome-te [i-ru/ar-
u].

NOM street in car ACC park-TE exist-NPST

‘Midori has parked the car in the street.’

b.
Kuruma ga michi ni tome-te ar-u.

car NOM street in park-TE exist-NPST

‘There is a car parked in the street.’

Because the -te iru construction and the -te aru construction in (24a) do
not change the valence of the base verb, they are both realizations of the
perfect of result, according to criterion (23a). On the other hand, because it
changes the verb valence, the second type of the -te aru construction
represented in (24b) is categorized as the resultative proper. In addition,
the -te iru construction in (24a) can be interpreted either as the perfect of
result (Midori’s car is being parked in the street at the speech time) or as
the experiential perfect (Midori parked her car in the street at least once),

191
but the -te aru construction in (24a) must be interpreted only as the perfect
of result.
The distinction between the perfect of result and the resultative proper
also emerges by applying criterion (23b): the perfect can be derived from
any verb, including those that denote situations involving no change of the
state of any participant, but the resultative cannot be derived from such
verbs. Of course, there are many semantic and pragmatic constraints, but
in principle, the perfect of result -te iru and -te aru accommodate any type
of verb, but the resultative proper -te aru occurs only with verbs denoting
some change of state. In (25b), because taking preventive measures cannot
change a non-existent fire, the resultative -te aru is unacceptable. As
before, -te iru in (25a) can be an instance of either the perfect of result or
the experiential perfect, while -te aru in (25a) must be interpreted only as
an instance of the perfect of result.
(25) a.
Kaji o bōshi shi-te [i-ru/ar-u].

fire ACC prevention do-TE exist-NPST

‘(Someone) has taken preventive measures against a fire.’

b.
*Kaji ga bōshi shi-te ar-u.

fire NOM prevention do-TE exist-NPST

‘Preventive measures targeted against fire have been taken.’

As predicted by criterion (23c), moment adverbials referring to the event

time such as kinō ‘yesterday’ can appear in the perfect of result, but not in
the resultative as shown in (26a) and (26b), respectively:
(26) a.
Kinō wairo o watashi-te [i-ru/ar-u].

yesterday bribe ACC give-TE exist-NPST

‘(I) have given a bribe (to someone) yesterday.’7

b.
*Kinō wairo ga watashi-te ar-u.

yesterday bribe ACC give-TE exist-NPST

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 ‘A bribe was given (to someone) yesterday.’

9.9 Summary
In an isolated sentence in Japanese, the past tense form indicates a past
situation, whereas the non-past tense form indicates a present situation
when the predicate is stative, but a future situation when the predicate is
dynamic. In terms of aspect, both -ta and -ru are perfective, whereas the
prototypical imperfective notion is expressed with -te iru. The -te iru
construction indicates either the imperfective (progressive) or the perfect
aspect. In terms of taxis, -ta indicates that the situation is completed before
the reference time, whereas -ru indicates that the situation still exists or
has yet to be realized at the reference time.
The experiential perfect indicates that a given situation has occurred in
the past, just like the past tense, so that it is compatible with an adverbial
referring to a past time, e.g. kinō ‘yeserday’. The -te iru construction that
serves this function comes closest to the past tense. The resultative
construction describes a present situation, although it implies that it is a
result of a past event. The perfect of result falls somewhere between the
resultative proper and the experiential perfect. As such, it does permit an
adverbial referring to a past time. These concepts are summarized in Table
9.1.
Table 9.1 Semantics of the constructions discussed in this chapter.
Past Present
situation situation

Past -ta asserted N/A

Experiential -te iru asserted N/A

perfect

Perfect of result -te iru asserted asserted

-te
aru

Resultative -te implied asserted

aru

Present -ru N/A asserted

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1 Creole languages are developed from pidgin languages. A pidgin
language is a simplified language used for communication between
speakers of different languages. Unlike pidgin language, however, a creole
is a fully fledged language spoken by native speakers.
2 The suffix -ta arose in Late Old Japanese (circa ninth–twelfth centuries)
from the auxiliary verb -tari, which in turn was derived from -te ari prior
to the Old Japanese era. Ari is the primeval form of the existential verb
aru.
3 Miller (1975) claims that -ta marks perfective and -ru marks
imperfective. However, his conceptualization of imperfective differs
greatly from that presented here. See Hasegawa (1999b) for further
discussion of Miller’s idea.
4 As Kindaichi (1950) points out, Japanese has two types of stative
predicates. One cannot occur in the -te iru construction, e.g. (6a)
*kumērugo ga dekite iru ‘I’m able to speak Khmer’, but the other type
can, e.g. (6b) takusan no shima kara natte iru ‘(Japan) consists of many
islands’. Kindaichi characterizes the latter as depicting a state where the
notion of time is not involved.
5 Hopper (1979: 213) divides statements in narrative discourse into two
categories: those signaling the major thread of the narration and those
providing supporting information. He calls the former FOREGROUND, and
the latter BACKGROUND. Foreground statements express events in
chronological order, making the completion of one event a necessary
condition for the next; as such, verbs that appear in foreground tend to be
punctual. Background statements need not be sequential with respect to
foreground events, tend to amplify or comment on the main narrative
events, and are concurrent with the main events and tend to be stative.
6 The perfect construction can occur with the past, present, and future
tenses. The discussion here is limited to the present perfect.
7 With iru, the subject is likely to be a third person, whereas with aru it is
likely to be the first person, i.e. the speaker. See Subsection 24.2.5 for this
distancing effect of -te iru.

194
Part IV Major clause types

195
 10 Measurement and comparison
10.1 Measurement
English numerically measures the characteristics of entities using (i) nouns
that designate particular dimensions, e.g. depth, height, age as in (1); (ii)
adjectives that express dimensional concepts, e.g. tall, old as in (2); and
(iii) verbs that incorporate the dimension concept, i.e. cost and weigh as in
(3).1
(1) a. Entity + has + dimension + of + measurement
The container has a height of 6 feet.
b. Entity’s + dimension + is + measurement
The container’s height is 6 feet.
c. Dimension + of + entity + is + measurement
The height of the container is 6 feet.
d. Entity + is + measurement + in/of + dimension
The container is 6 feet in height.
My sister is 6 years of age.
(2) Entity + is + measurement + adjective
My daughter is 5 feet tall.
My son is 13 years old.
My biology textbook is 3 inches thick.
(3) Entity + verb + measurement
My biology textbook costs 100 dollars.
My biology textbook weighs 2 pounds.
Only the “neutral” members of opposite pairs of adjectives can identify
scales of linear extent. Tall, old, and thick are neutral adjectives, as
opposed to the “marked,” or non-neutral, opposite adjectives short, young,
and thin. Therefore, tall, old, and thick can appear in sentence pattern (2)
while their opposites cannot.
(4) *My daughter is 5 feet short.
*My son is 13 years young.
*My biology textbook is 3 inches thin.
Japanese measures scalar properties with nouns that designate particular
dimensions: e.g. okuyuki ‘horizontal depth’, fukasa ‘vertical depth’, takasa
‘height’, and atsusa ‘thickness’. In many cases, both the copula and the
existential verb aru can be used to form a predicate for numerical
expressions. (5a) is in the wa–ga construction discussed in Section 8.13.

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(5) a. Entity + wa + dimension + ga + measurement + copula/existential
Kono tsukue wa okuyuki ga 60cm da/aru.

this desk TOP depth NOM COP/exist

‘This desk has a depth of 60 centimeters.’

b. Entity + wa + dimension + measurement + copula
Kono tsukue wa okuyuki 60cm da.

this desk TOP depth COP

‘This desk has a depth of 60 centimeters.’

c. Entity + no + dimension + wa + measurement + copula/existential
Kono tsukue no okuyuki wa 60cm da/aru.

this desk GEN depth TOP COP/exist

‘The depth of this desk is 60 centimeters.’

(5a) and (5b) may seem to be mere variations of the same construction,
(5a) with ga, (5b) without it. They are, however, distinct constructions
because (5a) permits both the copula and the existential verb aru, but (5b)
permits only the copula. Furthermore, while (5a) allows different word
orders, (5b) prohibits them.
(5) a’. Kono tsukue wa 60cm da/aru, okuyuki ga.
a’’. Okuyuki ga, kono tsukue wa 60cm da/aru.
b’. *Kono tsukue wa 60cm da, okuyuki.
b’’. *Okuyuki, kono tsukue wa 60cm da.
Many of these dimensional nouns are derived from adjectives by adding
‑sa, e.g. atsui ‘thick’ > atsu-sa ‘thickness’, fukai ‘deep’ > fuka-sa ‘depth’,
takai ‘high’ > taka-sa ‘height’, wakai ‘young’ > waka-sa, and so forth (see
Section 6.5). When the measurement value (e.g. 100 pēji ‘100 pages’)
implies the dimension (e.g. the length of a book), the dimension (e.g.
nagasa ‘length’) itself can be omitted:
(6) Entity + wa + measurement + copula/existential
a.

197
 Kono hon wa 100 pēji da/aru.

this book TOP page COP/exist

‘This book is/has 100 pages.’

b.
Kono rapputoppu wa 1 kiro da/aru.

this laptop TOP kilogram COP/exist

‘This laptop is (weighs) 1 kilogram.’

As illustrated in (7), when the noun indicating a dimension is derived

from an adjective, Japanese exhibits the same constraint that applies in
English (e.g. five feet tall vs. *five feet short).
(7) a.
Kono biru wa takasa/*hikusa ga 30m da/aru.

this building TOP height/*lowness NOM COP/exist

‘This building is 30m high/*low.’

b.
Kono pūru wa fukasa/*asasa ga 2m da/aru.

this pool TOP depth/*shallowness NOM COP/exist

‘The pool is 2m deep/*shallow.’

However, the use of marked (vis-à-vis neutral) adjectives is possible

when the marked characteristics are significant in a positive way as in (8b,
8d). Note that in (8b, 8d), nouns derived from marked adjectives occur
naturally in the copula construction, but not with the existential aru.
(8) a.
Kono hon wa atsusa ga 3cm da/aru. [neutral]

this book TOP thickness NOM COP/exist

‘This book has a thickness of 3 centimeters.’

b.
Kono dejikame wa ususa ga 18mm da/*aru.

198
 this digital.camera TOP thinness NOM COP/*exist

‘*This digital camera has a thinness of 18mm.’

c.
Kono kabin wa omosa ga 2kg da/aru. [neutral]

this vase TOP heaviness NOM COP/exist

‘*This vase has a heaviness of 2kg.’

d.
Kono rapputoppu wa karusa ga 500g da/*aru.

this laptop TOP lightness NOM COP/*exist

‘*This laptop has a lightness of 500g.’

When the significance of having a marked characteristic is not

immediately obvious, the acceptability declines drastically as shown in
(9b, 9d) (e.g. it is unclear that a markedly short treatise would be positive).
(9) a.
Kono ronbun wa nagasa ga 30 pēji da/aru.

this treatise TOP length NOM page COP/exist

‘This treatise is 30 pages long.’

b.
*Kono ronbun wa mijikasa ga 30 pēji da. [marked]

this treatise TOP shortness NOM page COP

‘#This treatise is 30 pages short.’ (This sentence does not express the
intended meaning.)
c.
Kono isu wa takasa ga 1 mētoru da/aru. [neutral]

this chair TOP chair NOM meter COP/exist

‘This chair is 1 meter high.’

d.

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 *Kono isu wa hikusa ga 1 mētoru da. [marked]

this chair TOP lowness NOM meter COP

‘*This chair is 1 meter low.’

The constraint on marked expressions of characteristics is more

prominent in Sino-Japanese compounds (see Section 6.8): for example, the
word sha-kō 車高 (car + high = the height of a car) exists, but *sha-tei *
車低 (car + low) does not. Other examples are as follows: shin-chō 身長
(body + long = body height) vs. *shin-tan *身短 (body + short); sui-shin
水深 (water + deep = the depth of the water) vs. *sui-sen *水浅 (water +
shallow); tai-jū 体重 (body + heavy = body weight) vs. *tai-kei *体軽
(body + light).
10.2 Comparison
English reports scalar equalities and inequalities between two entities as (i)
arguments (i.e. obligatory elements, see Section 7.1) of a comparison
adjective, which designates the dimension as occurs in (10), or (ii)
arguments of a generic comparison verb or adjective, in which case the
dimension is introduced in a prepositional phrase, as in (11). The argument
denoted as Entity2 is called the STANDARD OF COMPARISON.
(10) a. Entity1 + is + as + adjective + as + entity2
Your proposal is as interesting as mine.
b. Entity1 + is + comparison adjective + than + entity2
Your proposal is better/worse than mine.
Your proposal is longer than mine.
c. Entity1 + is + comparison marker + adjective + than + entity2
Your proposal is more/less interesting than mine.
(11) a. Entity1 + is + identity adjective + to + entity2 + in + dimension
Your proposal is identical to mine in length.
b. Entity1 + comparison verb + entity2 + in + dimension
Your proposal exceeds mine in length.
Japanese reports scalar equalities and inequalities between two entities
using a plain adjective that incorporates the dimension. Although there is
no comparative form for adjectives, the phrases NP to onaji kurai/gurai
‘about the same amount as’, NP no hō (Lit. ‘NP’s side’), and NP yori
‘than NP’ are unambiguous indicators of comparison semantics.

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(12) a. Entity1 + wa + entity2 + to onaji kurai + adjective
Kore wa are to onaji kurai nagai.

this TOP that with same about long

‘This is as long as that.’

b. Entity1 + no hō ga + adjective
Kore no hō ga nagai.

this GEN side NOM long

‘This is longer.’
c. Entity2 + yori + adjective
Are yori nagai.

that than long

‘It’s longer than that.’

d. Entity1 + no hō ga + entity2 + yori + adjective
Kore no hō ga are yori nagai.

this GEN side NOM that than long

‘This is longer than that.’

Under the right circumstances, ga-marked subjects alone can make a

clause comparative, especially when only two items are under discussion
as in (13). Wa-marked subjects do not convey comparison as shown in
(13B’).
(13) A:
Dotchi/Dore ga takai?

which.side/which NOM expensive

‘Which one is more expensive?’

B:

201
 Kotchi/Kore ga takai.

this.side/this NOM expensive

‘This one is more expensive.’

B’:
Kotchi/Kore wa takai.

this.side/this TOP expensive

‘This one is expensive.’

In English, the standard of comparison can be expressed in several

ways: e.g. than her, than she is, than expected, than is expected. However,
when the standard is a numerical value, it cannot be encoded as a clause:
(14) a. John is taller than Bill is.
b. *John is taller than 6 feet is.
When the standard is a numerical value, Japanese employs totally
different constructions, with ijō ‘equal to or more than’ as in (15c).2
(15) a.
Kono kuruma wa watashi no yori takai.

this car TOP mine GEN than expensive

‘This car is more expensive than mine.’

b.
??Kono kuruma wa 30,000 doru yori takai.3

this car TOP dollar than expensive

‘This car is more expensive than $30,000.’

c.
Kono kuruma wa 30,000 doru ijō da/suru.

this car TOP dollar more.than COP/do

‘This car is (equal to or) more than $30,000.’

Ijō follows a numerical expression and forms an NP, which in turn can

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modify another NP.
(16) a.
30,000 doru ijō no kuruma

dollar more.than GEN car

‘a car that is (equal to or) more than $30,000’

b.
500-nin ijō no hito ga sanka shita.

more.than GEN people NOM participated

‘(Equal to or) More than 500 people participated.’

As in English, adverbs can occur in comparison constructions in

Japanese.
(17) a.
Kono hon wa motto nagai.

this book TOP more long

‘This book is even longer. [Lit. more long]’

b.
Kono hon wa haruka ni nagai.

this book TOP by.far long

‘This book is much longer.’

c.
Kono hon wa wazuka ni nagai.

this book TOP slightly long

‘This book is slightly longer.’

10.3 Measured difference

English reports differences between two entities measured against the
same scale with an adjectival comparison construction, introducing the
value of the difference as (i) a modifier of the adjective as in (18), or (ii)
an argument of by as in (19).

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(18) Entity1 + is + measurement + comparison adjective + than + entity2
Harry is 2 years older than Emily.
My refrigerator is 6 degrees colder than yours.
(19) Entity1 + is + comparison adjective + than + entity2 + by +
measurement
Harry is older than Emily by 2 years.
My refrigerator is colder than yours by 6 degrees.
Japanese reports differences between two entities measured against the
same scale as arguments of a comparative construction with the
measurement modifying the adjective as in (20).
(20) Entity1 + no hō ga + entity2 + yori + measurement + adjective
Kore no hō ga are yori 100 pēji nagai.

this GEN side NOM that than page long

‘This is 100 pages longer than that.’

Measured difference can also be expressed by juxtaposition of a

measurement and an adjective.
(21) a.
Kono hon wa nagai.

this book TOP long

‘This book is long.’

b.
Kono hon wa 100 pēji nagai.

this book TOP page long

‘This book is 100 pages longer.’

NOT ‘This book is 100 pages long.’

While (21a) translates ‘this book is long’, (21b) does not mean ‘this
book is 100 pages long’. Rather, it means ‘this book is 100 pages longer’
than some unnamed referent, even though no overt comparative marker is
present. That is, Japanese scalar adjectives do not permit an explicit
measurement-value to co-occur with them. Here are some additional

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examples:
(22) a.
Kono hako wa 5 kg omoi.

this box TOP heavy

‘This box is 5 kg heavier.’

b.
Kono pen wa 2,000 en takai.

this pen TOP 2,000 yen expensive

‘This pen is 2,000 yen more expensive.’

In English, the measurement construction concerns measurements from

a scalar zero, whereas the measured-difference construction represents
measurements from some implicit or explicit reference point by means of a
than-phrase. Unlike the measurement construction, the measured-
difference construction allows not only both members of polar adjective
pairs, but also a wider set of attributes.
(23) Measurement construction
2 feet tall/*short, 2 inches thick/*thin, 2 years old/*young, *2 pounds
heavy, *2 degrees cold, *2 dollars expensive, *20 percent likely, *20
IQ points intelligent
(24) Measured-difference construction
2 inches taller/shorter, 2 years older/younger, 2 pounds heavier, 2
degrees colder, 2 dollars more expensive, 20 percent more likely, 20
IQ points more intelligent
Some measurement expressions are “hidden” comparisons: ten minutes
late means ten minutes later than some appointed time, and ten minutes
early means ten minutes earlier than some appointed time. Therefore, these
sentences can be paraphrased as X was late/early by ten minutes. Similarly,
five miles ahead and five miles behind mean, respectively, five miles ahead
of or behind some fixed reference point or moving object. Such appointed
time and reference point/object must be recoverable from a prior
discourse.
In fact, all evaluative adjectival expressions involve hidden
comparisons. For example, in That building is tall, the standard of
comparison is implicit but generally understood, e.g. tall for buildings with

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its function, tall for buildings in the neighborhood, etc. Such an implicit
standard can be made explicit.
(25) a. He is short for a Swede.
b. He is tall even for a Swede.
One way to account for the Japanese measured-difference construction
would attribute the difference between English and Japanese to the idea
that adjectives are inherently ambiguous: those that render an implicit
comparison (α-reading) and those without such a comparison (β-reading)
as in the examples in (26).
(26) a. A dissertation that is 100 pages longβ is not longα at all.
b. How longβ is her dissertation?

From this perspective, the differences between English and Japanese

would be summarized as follows:
(27)
English Japanese

α. Implicit comparison long naga-i (adjective)

β. No comparison long naga-sa (noun)

γ. Explicit comparison long-er naga-i (adjective)

In terms of this analysis, in English, the base form (i.e. more basic form,
e.g. long) is ambiguous between the α- and β-readings. By contrast, the
base form in Japanese always implies comparison; the non-comparison β-
reading must be expressed by a more complex, derived form, e.g. naga-sa
‘length’. The problem with this is that only limited, neutral adjectives
permit β-readings, thus making the generalization rather restricted.
(28) a. *A dissertation that is 100 pages shortβ is not shortα at all.
b. *A car that goes 50 miles per hour fastβ is not fastα at all.

Another perspective on the difference between the two languages might

offer the generalization that in the measurement construction, English
adjectives only identify a relevant scale. For example, long in Her
dissertation is 100 pages long is not evaluative, evoking only the length
scale and a location on that scale without communicating whether a length
of 100 pages is considered long or short. By contrast, long in non-
measurement construction (e.g. Her dissertation is long/short) evaluates

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the length of the dissertation as compared against an implicit standard of
quantity as represented in (29).
(29) Length scale

The relevant scale is associated with an implicit standard for a given

type of entity. When the measurement value of the entity is above such a
standard, the entity is judged as long; when its value is below the standard,
it is judged as short. In this view, Japanese adjectives are necessarily
evaluative and unable to serve a mere scale-identifying function, which
must be attained by an appropriate noun such as naga-sa ‘length’.
Notice that the scale in (29) has one end closed and the other open. This
asymmetrical configuration explains the commonly observable neutral vs.
marked distinction in regard to adjectives with polar opposition. Because
there is no limit on the larger end of the scale, wherever the implicit
standard is, long by nature has greater coverage. The applicability of short,
on the other hand, is limited, and thus less usable.
10.4 Less/fewer
Japanese possesses fairly productive means of expressing scalar equalities
as well as positive inequalities that correspond to English more/-er as
shown in (12). However, conveying negative inequalities in Japanese is
problematic, and normally expressed by negating equality as is
demonstrated in (30) below:
(30) Standard + hodo + feature-nai
a.
Kono rapputoppu wa sono hako hodo omoku-nai.

this laptop TOP that box as.much heavy-not

‘[Lit.] This laptop is not as heavy as that box.’

‘This laptop is less heavy than that box.’

b.
Watashi wa anata hodo tomodachi ga inai.

I TOP you as.much friend NOM not.exist

‘[Lit.] With me, friends do not exist like you.’

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 ‘I have fewer friends than you do.’
c.
Yōki ni wa mizu ga 20 rittoru mo nokotte-inai

container in TOP water NOM 20 liter as.much remain-not

‘[Lit.] Not as much as 20 liters of water remain in the container.’

‘Less than 20 liters of water remain in the container.’

d.
Yosōshita hodo ōkuno dōbutsu wa higai o

expected as.much numerous animal TOP harm ACC

‘[Lit.] Not as many animals were harmed as was expected.’

‘Fewer animals than expected were harmed.’

In (15), the Sino-Japanese comparison noun ijō ‘equal to or more than’

was introduced. Its counterpart in descending order ika ‘equal to or
less/fewer than’ is comparatively limited in utility. When, for example, the
standard of comparison is a numerical value as in (31a), ika is usable.
However, when the standard is another entity, the compared characteristic
must be specified as in (31b–31c).
(31) a.
Kono rapputoppu wa 1 kg ika da.

this laptop TOP less.than COP

‘This laptop is (equal to or) less than 1kg.’

b.
Kono rapputoppu wa omosa ga sono hako ika

this laptop TOP weight NOM that box less.than

‘[Lit.] This laptop, the weight is (equal to or) less than that box.’
c.

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 Kono rapputoppu no omosa wa sono hako ika

this laptop GEN weight TOP that box less.than

‘The weight of this laptop is (equal to or) less than that of that box.’

Further, as illustrated by (30b), what is compared must be numbers of

friends rather than the friends themselves. Therefore, (32a) is
ungrammatical as a paraphrase of (30b).4 When this distinction is made
clear, ika can be used grammatically as in (32b), but its use does not sound
as idiomatic as (30b).
(32) a.
#Watashi wa anata ika no tomodachi ga

I TOP you less.than GEN friend NOM

b.
Watashi no tomodachi no kazu wa anata ika

I GEN friend GEN number TOP you less.than

‘The number of my friends is (equal to or) less than yours.’

Converting (30c) using ika is possible, but sounds natural only in limited
contexts.
(33) a.
Yōki ni nokotteiru mizu wa 20 ika da
rittoru

container in remaining water TOP 20 less.than COP

liter

‘The water remaining in the container is (equal to or) less than 20

liters.’
b.
?20 ika no mizu ga yōki ni nokotte
rittoru iru.

20 liter less.than GEN water NOM container in remain

‘(Equal to or) Less than 20 liters of water remain in the container.’

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 (33b) is grammatical, but its pragmatic function is unclear. The use of
ijō assures that at least twenty liters of water remains, but ika guarantees
only that the water remaining is twenty liters or less – in fact, there might
be no water at all. Therefore, (33b) is usable only when storing more than
twenty liters of water is prohibited.
Ika can combine with the verbal noun yosō/yosoku
‘anticipation/expectation’ to express ‘less than anticipated/expected’. Such
a phrase sounds unnatural when occurring in a subject NP.
(34) a.
Higai o uketa dōbutsu wa yosō ika

harm ACC received animal TOP anticipation less.than

‘The animals that were harmed was (equal to or) fewer than anticipated.’
b.
?Yosō ika no dōbutsu ga higai o

anticipation less.than GEN animal NOM harm ACC

‘Fewer animals than expected were harmed.’

10.5 Modifying nouns

English makes frequent use of noun modification when comparing
numbers or quantities as happens in (35a). Although noun modification
with the idea of “more” is possible in Japanese, e.g. (35b), quantification
generally occurs more naturally in applications involving a predicate as
happens in (35c).
(35) a. More people participated than last year.
b.
Kyonen yori ōku no hito ga sanka shita.

last.year than numerous people NOM participated

‘[Lit.] People more numerous than last year participated.’

c.
Sanka shita hito wa kyonen yori ōkatta.

participated people TOP last.year than be.numerous.PAST

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 ‘[Lit.] The number of people who participated was more numerous
than last year.’

Although Japanese provides the adjectives ōi ‘many/numerous’ and

sukunai ‘few/little’, both can be used only predicatively (e.g. (36a) and
(37a)), not attributively (e.g. (36b) and (37b)).
(36) a.
Watashi wa tomodachi ga ōi.

I TOP friend NOM many

‘[Lit.] With me, friends are numerous.’

‘I have many friends.’

b.
*Watashi wa ōi tomodachi ga aru.

I TOP many friend NOM exist

‘I have many friends.’ (intended)

c.
Watashi wa tomodachi ga aru.

I TOP friend NOM exist

‘[Lit.] With me, there are friends.’

‘I have friends.’

(37) a.
Watashi wa tomodachi ga sukunai.

I TOP friend NOM few

‘[Lit.] With me, friends are few.’

‘I have (only) few friends.’

b.
*Watashi wa sukunai tomodachi ga aru.

I TOP few friend NOM exist

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 ‘I have (only) few friends.’ [intended]

The extreme case of the preference toward noun modification in English

involves the use of no as in (38). Unthinkable in Japanese, the meaning
conveyed by this sequence must be formulated by negating the existence
of something (friends, object, etc.) by means of negative predicate form as
illustrated in (39).
(38) a. I have no friends.
b. There is no printer in this room.
(39) a.
Watashi wa tomodachi ga inai.

I TOP friend NOM not.exist

‘[Lit.] Regarding myself, friends do not exist.’

b.
Kono heya ni wa purintā wa nai.

this room in TOP printer NEG-SCP not.exist

‘[Lit.] In this room, a printer does not exist.’

1 Much of this chapter is derived from Hasegawa et al. (2010).
2 When ijō follows a numerical expression, the number is included. That
is, 2 ijō means ‘2 or more’, not ‘more than 2’.
3 This type of expression can occur freely in noun-modification
constructions, e.g. 30,000 doru yori takai kuruma ‘a car (that is) more
expensive than $30,000’.
4 (32a) can be interpreted only as ‘I have friends whose (humanistic)
quality is less than that of yours’.

212
 11 Causatives
11.1 Introduction
The CAUSATIVE CONSTRUCTION is prototypically used to indicate that
someone (encoded as the subject in the nominative case or as the topic
with the marker wa) makes someone else do something. The causing agent
is referred to as the CAUSER, and the person who is made to act is the
CAUSEE. The causee is marked with the accusative marker o if the verb is
intransitive as in (1b), or with the dative ni if the verb is transitive as is the
case in (2b).
(1) a.
Shigeru ga oyoi-da. [intransitive]

NOM swim-PAST

‘Shigeru swam.’
b.
Midori wa Shigeru o oyog-ase-ta.

TOP ACC swim-CAUS-PAST

‘Midori made Shigeru swim.’

(2) a.
Shigeru ga tegami o kai-ta. [transitive]

NOM letter ACC write-PAST

‘Shigeru wrote a letter.’

b.
Midori wa Shigeru ni tegami o kak-ase-ta.

TOP DAT letter ACC write-CAUS-PAST

‘Midori made Shigeru write a letter.’

The causative forms of verbs are derived as follows.

(3) a. U-verbs: the stem + -ase-ru (the derived causative verb becomes a
ru-verb)
aw-ase-ru ‘meet’, kizuk-ase-ru ‘recognize’, hanas-ase-ru ‘talk’,

213
 mat-ase-ru ‘wait’, shi-nase-ru ‘die’, tob-ase-ru ‘fly’, yom-ase-ru
‘read’, kaer-ase-ru ‘return’
or the stem + -as-u (the derived causative verb remains as a u-verb)1
aw-as-u ‘meet’, kizuk-as-u ‘recognize’, nug-as-u ‘take off’, mat-as-u
‘wait’, shin-as-u ‘die’, tob-as-u ‘fly’, yom-as-u ‘read’, kaer-as-u
‘return’
When the stem is intransitive, e.g. hashir- ‘run’, the short form
hashir-as-u can be considered as a separate (i.e. not derived)
transitive verb referred to as a LEXICAL CAUSATIVE.
b.Ru-verbs (e.g. tabe- ‘eat’): the stem + -sase-ru
ake-sase-ru ‘open’, tabe-sase-ru ‘eat’, i-sase-ru ‘stay’, mi-sase-ru
‘see’
or the stem + -sas-u (the derived causative verb becomes a ru-verb)
ake-sas-u ‘open’, tabe-sasu ‘eat’, i-sas-u ‘stay’, mi-sas-u ‘see’
c. K- ‘come’: k-osase-ru or k-osas-u
d. S- ‘do (something)’: s-ase-ru
The causative construction is schematically represented in (4), with the
square-bracketed portion representing the caused event:
(4) CAUSER-ga/wa [CAUSEE-o/ni (DIRECTOBJECT-o) VERBSTEM] -(s)ase-
TENSE
11.2 Case marking of the causee
When used with an intransitive verb, the causee can optionally be marked
with ni rather than with o.
(5)
Midori wa Shigeru ni oyog-ase-ta.

TOP DAT swim-CAUS-PAST

‘Midori made Shigeru swim.’

However, some intransitive verbs, such as those in (6), prohibit ni-

marking.
(6) akiru ‘lose interest’, kanashimu ‘feel sad’, konran-suru ‘get confused’,
kurushimu ‘suffer’, kuruu ‘go insane’, madou ‘get lost’, nageku
‘lament’, naku ‘cry’, naoru ‘recover’, nemuru ‘sleep’, neru ‘go to bed’,
odoroku ‘be surprised’, okiru ‘wake up’, shinu ‘die’, warau ‘laugh’,
yorokobu ‘be delighted’
These verbs in (6) refer to an event over which the causee has little

214
control. By contrast, the following verbs allow both o- and ni-marking.
(7) aruku ‘walk’, asobu ‘play’, funki-suru ‘be stirred up’, hagemu ‘strive’,
hairu ‘enter’, iku ‘go’, iru ‘stay’, jisatsu-suru ‘commit suicide’, katsu
‘win’, makeru ‘lose’, modoru ‘return’, nigeru ‘escape’, sawagu ‘make
noise’, shirizoku ‘retreat’, shitagau ‘obey’, taeru ‘endure’, tomaru
‘stop’, unazuku ‘nod’, yaseru ‘lose weight’, yoru ‘stop by’
The verbs in (7) represent actions controllable by the causee. Shibatani
(1990: 309–410) compares the following sentences to illustrate when the
use of o but not ni is appropriate:
(8) a.
Hana ga migoto ni sai-ta.

flower NOM beautifully bloom-PAST

‘The flowers bloomed beautifully.’

b.
Tarō ga hana o/*ni migoto ni sak-ase-ta.

NOM flower ACC/DAT beautifully bloom-CAUS-PAST

‘Taro made the flowers bloom beautifully.’

(9) a.
Hanako ga kizetsu shi-ta.

NOM faint do-PAST

‘Hanako fainted.’
b.
Kūfuku ga Hanako o/*ni kizetsu s-ase-ta.

hunger NOM ACC/DAT faint do-CAUS-PAST

‘Hunger made Hanako faint.’

In (8b), because flowers do not bloom of their own free will, ni-marking
is impossible. In (9b), although the causee is a human, fainting is not
usually a controllable act; therefore, Hanako cannot be marked with ni.
That is, ni indicates the agency of the causee. Tsujimura (2007: 288)
makes the same point with the adverbial muriyari ‘forcibly’, which sounds

215
awkward when it co-occurs with ni as in (10b):
(10) a.
Tarō ga Hanako o muriyari aruk-ase-ta.

NOM ACC forcibly walk-CAUS-PAST

‘[Lit.] Taro forcibly made Hanako walk.’

‘Taro forced Hanako to walk.’

b.
??Tarō ga Hanako ni muriyari aruk-ase-ta.

NOM DAT forcibly walk-CAUS-PAST

Iwasaki (2002: 145) generalizes these facts as follows: in the case of a

causative making use of an intransitive verb, o is the default particle to
mark the causee; however, when the causee’s volition or ability to perform
becomes an issue, it can be highlighted by the use of ni.
Notwithstanding such a distinction, Tokashiki (2006) cautions that this
characterization of the o/ni alternation does not necessarily capture native
speakers’ intuitions. Using a questionnaire, she asked 40 Japanese native
speakers to select a particle in five intransitive-causative sentences,
including the two following sample sentences:
(11) a.
Chichioya wa kodomo () mainichi hashir-ase-masu.

father TOP child everyday run-CAUS-NPST

‘The father makes the child run every day.’

b.
Hahaoya wa kodomo juku ni ik-ase-
() mashita.

mother TOP child cram.shool to go-CAUS-PAST

‘The mother made the child go to a cram school.’

For (11a), 32 respondents (80%) selected o, while eight (20%) selected

ni. For (11b), 35 (87.5%) selected o, and five (12.5%) selected ni.
Differences here can be interpreted as being due to ambiguity with respect

216
to the willingness of the causees. However, in the second section of her
questionnaire, Tokashiki asked whether or not (12) is grammatical.
(12)
Oya wa kodomo ni kaimono ni ik-ase-ta.

parent TOP child DAT shopping for go-CAUS-PAST

‘The parent made the child go shopping.’

26 (65%) answered yes, 13 (32.5%) answered no, and one answered that
it sounds odd, but not necessarily ungrammatical. These numbers show
that the fluctuation between o and ni is not based solely on the ambiguity
of the causee’s willingness. Grammaticality is also a factor: one third of
the native speakers in the experiment considered the use of ni to be
ungrammatical.
In the third section of the questionnaire, Tokashiki asked the participants
to explain the difference between o- and ni-marking in (13).
(13)
Oya wa kodomo o/ni suwar-ase-mashita.

parent TOP child ACC/DAT sit-CAUS-PAST

‘The parent made the child sit down.’

21 (52.5%) responded that o is more coercive, seven (14%) that ni is

more so, four (10%) that the use of ni is ungrammatical, and three (7.5%)
did not respond at all. These results imply that, although the tendency for
ni to mark volition/ability on the part of the causee – as exemplified in
(8b), (9b) and (10b) – is persuasive to a point, this tendency is not
significantly salient for native speakers to select ni consistently to
highlight the causee’s willingness or ability to comply with the causer’s
demand.
A more salient difference involving o and ni appears when marking
focus or contrast (Chapter 8). To me, sentences like (5) without context are
only marginally acceptable.
(5)
Midori wa Shigeru ni oyog-ase-ta.

TOP DAT swim-CAUS-PAST

217
 ‘Midori made Shigeru swim.’

However, if Midori happens to be a swimming coach selecting which

team member is to swim in the relay race, the use of ni in (5) becomes
more natural, conveying the idea that “It was Shigeru who Midori
made/chose to swim.”
Unlike the causative with an intransitive verb, the causative with a
transitive verb permits only ni-marking because postpositional particles
with the same function cannot occur more than once in a single clause.
(14) a.
Midori to Shigeru ga tegami o kai-ta.

and NOM letter ACC write-PAST

‘Midori and Shigeru wrote a letter.’

b.
*Midori ga Shigeru ga tegami o kai-ta.

NOM NOM letter ACC write-PAST

(15) a.
Midori wa ginkō to toshokan ni it-ta.

TOP bank and library to go-PAST

‘Midori went to the bank and to the library.’

b.
*Midori wa ginkō ni toshokan ni it-ta.

TOP bank to library to go-PAST

(16) a.
Midori wa denshi-renji to ōbun de kēki o

TOP microwave- and oven with cake ACC

oven

‘Midori baked a cake using a microwave oven and a conventional oven.’

b.
*Midori wa denshi- de ōbun de kēki o
renji

218
 TOP microwave- with oven with cake ACC
oven

(17) a.
Shigeru ga tegami o kai-ta.

NOM letter ACC write-PAST

‘Shigeru wrote a letter.’

b.
*Midori wa Shigeru o tegami o kak-ase-ta.

TOP ACC letter ACC write-CAUS-

PAST

‘Midori made Shigeru write a letter.’

Because the accusative case does not appear in an intransitive clause, the
causee can be marked with o. In contrast, o necessarily occurs in a
transitive clause, e.g. (17a), and as a result the causee must be marked with
a different case marker, namely the dative ni.
11.3 Animate vs. inanimate causers and causees
While the causative construction prototypically is used to describe a
situation in which a person makes another person carry out some act, the
causer can be an inanimate entity as well, as is the case with uwasa
‘rumor’ in (18b):
(18) a.
Hitobito wa mura kara nigedashi-ta.

people TOP village from escape-PAST

‘People escaped from the village.’

b.
Sono uwasa ga hitobito o mura kara nigedas-ase-ta

that rumor NOM people ACC village from escape-

‘The rumor caused the people to escape from the village.’

219
 However, Japanese generally disfavors inanimate subjects with
transitive verbs, including (or even especially) with causative verbs. In
fact, causatives with an inanimate subject became possible only when
Western texts began to be translated during the Meiji period (1868–1912)
(see Section 4.2). The possibility of encoding an inanimate entity as the
subject was a shocking discovery. In the 1930s, a silent movie titled Nani
ga kanojo o sō saseta ka ‘What made her do it?’ created a sensation in
Japan. This box-office success was reportedly due in great part to its
linguistically eccentric title: it used familiar vocabulary and a familiar
grammatical structure, but it juxtaposed an inanimate, abstract subject
(nani ‘what’) to the causative verb (saseta), which simply did not happen
in normal Japanese. Even today, after many decades of noticeable
rhetorical–stylistic changes influenced mainly by English, this type of
sentence continues to sound peculiar to many Japanese ears.2
Not only the causer, but also the causee can be inanimate, as
exemplified below.
(19) a.
Oyu ga futtō shi-ta.

hot.water NOM boiling do-PAST

‘The water has boiled.’

b.
Midori ga oyu o futtō s-ase-ta.

NOM hot.water ACC boiling do-CAUS-PAST

‘Midori boiled the water.’

(20) a.
Tsukue ga idō shi-ta.

desk NOM movement do-PAST

‘The desk has moved.’

b.
Midori ga tsukue o idō s-ase-ta.

NOM desk ACC movement do-CAUS-PAST

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 ‘Midori moved the desk.’

Other verbs that take an inanimate causee are as follows:3

(21) afureru ‘overflow’, au ‘match’, fukuramu ‘inflate’, hazumu ‘bounce’,
hikaru ‘shine’, kōsa-suru ‘cross’, kumoru ‘cloud’, shigeru ‘grow
thick’, yasumu ‘rest’
11.4 Causative vs. transitive verbs
A subset of transitive verbs are semantically causative counterparts of
intransitive verbs (see Section 7.2). Therefore, they are sometimes called
LEXICAL CAUSATIVES. A listing of commonly used pairs appears in (22).
(22)
Intransitive Transitive Gloss

aku akeru open

hairu ireru enter

hirogaru hirogeru widen

kawaru kaeru change

kieru kesu disappear (not a transitive verb in

English)

magaru mageru bend

tomaru tomeru stop

While the causative form with (s)aseru is highly productive, these

lexical intransitive–transitive pairs cannot be derived by rules; therefore,
they must be listed separately in the lexicon. Furthermore, when an
intransitive verb has no transitive counterpart, as exemplified in (23), only
the causative form can express that the event is not spontaneous, but is,
instead, brought about by a causer.4
(23)
Intransitive Gloss Causative Gloss

aruku walk aruk-aseru make someone walk

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 hikaru shine hikar-aseru make something
shine

isogu hurry up isog-aseru hurry someone up

kusaru decay kusar-aseru let something decay

kōru freeze kōr-aseru freeze something

odoroku be odorok- surprise someone

surprised aseru

tsukareru feel tired tsukare- make someone feel

saseru tired

Finally, when the caused event can only be described with a transitive
verb, the causative construction is the only way to express causation
external to the transitive event.
For a transitive verb to qualify as a lexical causative, it must indicate
nothing more than that the agent (i.e. the subject of the transitive verb)
causes the event that the intransitive verb would designate. For example,
Mia broke the vase means that Mia was the cause of the vase breaking. If a
transitive verb includes more information than the mere occurrence of the
intransitive event, these verbs do not form a pair. Smash in Mia smashed
the vase, for example, is not a lexical causative of break because it also
denotes the manner of breaking.
To provide another example, the English verb kill can be analyzed as the
lexical causative of die, i.e. cause someone to die. In Japanese, by contrast,
korosu, which is routinely translated as kill, normally encodes
intentionality. Therefore, (24b) is anomalous or perceived figuratively, as
an instance of personification: i.e. the inanimate sensō ‘war’ serves as the
actor that killed Noboru. (24c) is an idiomatic way to describe the event.
(24) a.
Noboru ga shin-da.

NOM die-PAST

‘Noboru died.’
b.

222
 #Sensō ga Noboru o koroshi-ta.

war NOM ACC kill-PAST

‘The war killed Noboru.’

c.
Noboru ga sensō de shin-da.

NOM war in die-PAST

‘Noboru died in the war.’

If the causer is a human being, but the killing is unintended, korosu must
be accompanied by -te shimau, which cancels any encoded agency.
(25) a.
#Yuki ga hazumi de Noboru o koroshi-ta.

NOM unintentionally ACC kill-PAST

‘Yuki unintentionally killed Nobuo.’

b.
Yuki ga hazumi de Noboru o koroshi- shimat-ta
te

NOM unintentionally ACC kill-TE finish-

‘Yuki unintentionally killed Nobuo.’

A question arises here regarding the difference between the lexical

causative (i.e. transitive) and the (s)aseru causative. The former depicts a
situation as being caused by the subject referent. Whether the referent of
the direct object is capable of performing the action or not is normally
immaterial as shown in (26c).
(26) a.
Shigeru ga uchi ni kaet-ta.

NOM home to return-PAST

‘Shigeru went home.’

b.

223
 Midori ga Shigeru o uchi ni kaeshi-ta. [transitive]

NOM ACC home to return-PAST

‘[Lit.] Midori returned Shigeru home.’

‘Midori sent Shigeru home.’

c.
Midori ga hon o toshokan ni kaeshi-ta. [transitive]

NOM book ACC library to return-PAST

‘Midori returned the book to the library.’

Kaesu in (26b) is the lexical causative of kaeru ‘return’ in (26a). In

(26b), Shigeru is capable of going home by himself, but the direct object
of kaesu can be inanimate as in (26c). When the direct object is incapable
of performing the act, e.g. (26c), the causer must manipulate the object
physically. On the other hand, when the object has such a capacity, e.g.
(26b), the event can be accomplished by the causer’s directing the causee
to perform the act without physical manipulation. When both lexical and
(s)aseru causatives are available, the former is more likely to imply
manipulative or more forceful causation, while the latter is more likely to
indicate directive causation. In (27a), for example, Midori put clothes on,
or dressed, the child; in (27b), however, it is more likely that Midori
directed the child to wear the clothes.
(27) a.
Midori ga kodomo ni fuku o kise-ta. [transitive]

NOM child DAT cloth ACC wear-PAST

‘Midori made the child wear the clothes.’

b.
Midori ga kodomo ni fuku o ki-sase-ta.

NOM child DAT cloth ACC wear-CAUS-PAST

With some exceptions – see for example (19–21) – the causee in the
(s)aseru causative is normally an animate being as in (28a). Thus, (28b) is
unacceptable because the direct object causee is the inanimate object hon

224
‘book’.
(28) a.
Midori ga Shigeru uchi ni kaer-ase-ta. [causative]
o

NOM ACC home to return-CAUS-PAST

‘Midori made Shigeru go home.’

b.
*Midori ga hon o toshokan ni kaer-ase-ta.
[causative]

NOM book ACC library to return-CAUS-PAST

‘*Midori made the book return to the library.’

11.5 The permissive causative

A person can bring about an event or a state of affairs not only by
performing a causing act, but also by not preventing the event from
happening. This type of causative is called the PERMISSIVE
(CAUSATIVE), or LET-CAUSATIVE (i.e. the subject lets the event take
place).
(29) a.
Tamago o kusar-ase-te shimat-ta.

egg ACC rot-CAUS-TE finish-PAST

‘(I unintentionally) allowed the eggs to go bad/rotten.’

b.
Tamago o fuka-sase-ta.

egg ACC hatch-CAUS-PAST

‘(I) hatched the eggs.’ [e.g. by placing them in an incubator]

c.
Midori wa niwa ni rōzumarī o shiger-ase- i-ru
te

TOP garden in rosemary ACC grow-CAUS- exist-

TE

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 ‘Midori is growing rosemary in the garden.’

The distinction between the permissive causative and the regular

causative is frequently not clear-cut. Because every organic creature
eventually decays, (29a) is easy to classify as a case of the permissive.
However, the spontaneous process involved in eggs hatching or rosemary
growing is unclear with regard to causation. Even if the speaker in (29b)
and Midori in (29c) actively engaged in some action to bring about the
caused event, the outcomes are ultimately dependent on the causees’
potential. Therefore, the interpretations of (29b) and (29c) with respect to
the effectiveness as the causer varies from situation to situation. When the
causee is a human being, as in (28a), the distinction between causative and
permissive readings is even more blurred and more context dependent.
The permissive occurs frequently with the -te kudasai construction,
which is commonly used for requesting permission, as in (30a), or even for
volunteering to do something for the addressee’s sake, as in (30b).
(30) a.
Kyō wa hayaku kaer-ase-te kudasai.

today TOP early return-CAUS-TE please.let.me.receive

‘Please let me go home early today.’

b.
Watashi ni haraw-ase-te kudasai.

I DAT pay-CAUS-TE please.let.me.receive

‘Please let me pay.’

11.6 The intermediary causative

In some transitive sentences the subject is not the direct causer of the
event, but a mere initiator; such constructions are called INTERMEDIARY
CAUSATIVES.
(31) a.
Midori wa i o shujutsu shi-ta.

TOP stomach ACC surgery do-PAST

‘[Lit.] Midori did surgery on (her) stomach.’

226
 ‘Midori had surgery done on (her) stomach.’
b.
Midori wa ie o tate-ta.

TOP house ACC build-PAST

‘Midori built a house.’

In (31a), because no one can perform stomach surgery on oneself, it is

understood that a doctor operated on Midori. In (31b), by contrast, it could
be the case that Midori herself built a house, but it is more likely that she
had some contractor do the job. Nevertheless, the simple transitive (i.e.
lexical causative) construction can be used in both Japanese and English.
This encoding is possible only when the result of an action is involved,
rather than the process of the action. In this case, the transitive cannot
encompass causative events (Sato 2005: 94).
(32) a.
Midori ga doresu o tsukut-ta.

NOM dress ACC make-PAST

‘Midori had a dress made.’

b.
Midori ga doresu o dezain shi-ta.

TOP dress ACC design do-PAST

‘Midori designed a dress.’

Cannot mean: ‘Midori had a dress designed.’

While (32a) can indicate that Midori initiated the event in which
someone else actually made the dress, (32b) cannot indicate the situation
in which Midori had someone design her dress. It can only mean that
Midori herself designed the dress. This is because the intermediary
causative cannot focus on the process of actions involved in the event.
That is, while (32a) indicates the event as a whole, (32b) concerns its
process. Other expressions that can be used in the intermediary causative
are:

227
(33) kami o kiru ‘cut hair’, ki o ueru ‘plant a tree’, kuruma o naosu ‘repair
a car’, me o kensa suru ‘examine eyes’, megane o tsukuru ‘make
eyeglasses’, oiru o irekaeru ‘change oil’, tatami o kaeru ‘change a
tatami mat’, yane o harikaeru ‘recover the roof’
11.7 The structure of the causative construction
Although the causative construction is not a complex sentence with a
subordinate or embedded clause, it is semantically complex. A common
way to illustrate this point is by means of the interpretation of the reflexive
pronoun jibun ‘self’. The antecedent of jibun is normally restricted to the
subject of the sentence:
(34) a.
Midorii ga Shigeruj o jibuni no uchi ni manei-ta

NOM ACC self GEN house to invite-

‘Midori invited Shigeru to her [Lit. self’s] house.’

b.
Midorii ga Shigeruj o jibuni,j no heya de benky

NOM ACC self GEN room in study

‘Midori made Shigeru study in her/his room.’

In non-causative (34a), jibun must be COREFERENTIAL (i.e. referring to

the same entity) only with the subject, Midori, not with the direct object,
Shigeru. By contrast, in causative (34b), jibun is ambiguous; it can be
coreferential with either Midori or Shigeru. That is, although Shigeru is the
direct object, it is also the subject of benkyō suru ‘study’, while Midori is
the subject of the causative verb saseru. Therefore, the structure of the
causative is bi-clausal at an abstract level, which can be represented
graphically as follows (S = sentence, V = verb).

228
1 According to the causative-verb derivation rules, the past tense of the
long form is -ase-ta (e.g. aw-ase-ta ‘cause to meet’), whereas that of the
short form is -ashi-ta (e.g. aw-ashi-ta). However, the short form is less
common than the long form, or it does not exist for some verbs.
2 See Hasegawa (2011) for further discussion and examples.
3 For an extensive list of causative as well as transitive verbs each with an
inanimate causee, see Hayatsu and Ko (2012: 11–52).
4 As explained in Section 11.1, the short forms – e.g. aruk-asu, isog-asu,
kōr-asu, odorok-asu – can be considered transitive counterparts of the
original verbs, and they are listed as such in many dictionaries.

229
 12 Passives
12.1 Introduction
The quintessential distinction between the ACTIVE and PASSIVE VOICES
in the world’s languages is that the direct object of the active clause
undergoes a “transformation” (metaphorically speaking) to assume the
subject position in the corresponding passive clause, while the subject of
the active clause is optionally encoded as an incidental agentive phrase
(e.g. a by-phrase in English) in the passive clause. Here, AGENT can be
defined broadly as an initiator of an event. (A narrower definition of agent
limits it to entities that perform an act of their own will.) As a rule, English
passive clauses have corresponding active clauses as in example (1).
(1) a.
The board hired her. [active]
b.
She was hired (by the board). [passive]

In Japanese, the passive voice is expressed by the PASSIVE FORM of the

verb, which is derived as in (2).
(2) U-verbs: Stem + ‑areru
a.
Dareka ga mado o kowashi-ta. [active]

someone NOM window ACC break-PAST

‘Someone broke the window.’

b.
Mado ga kowas-are-ta. [passive]

window NOM break-PASS-PAST

‘The window was broken.’

(3) Ru-verbs: Stem + ‑rareru

a.
Dareka ga piza o todoke-ta. [active]

someone NOM pizza ACC deliver-PAST

‘Someone delivered pizza.’

230
 b. Piza ga todoke-rare-ta. [passive]

pizza NOM deliver-PASS-PAST

‘Pizza was delivered.’

(4) Kuru: k-orareru (This construction will be discussed in the next

section.)
(5) Suru: s-areru
a.
Dareka ga kaigi o kyanseru shi-ta. [active]

someone NOM meeting ACC cancellation do-PAST

‘Someone cancelled the meeting.’

b.
Kaigi ga kyanseru s-are-ta. [passive]

meeting NOM cancellation do-PASS-PAST

‘The meeting was cancelled.’

Not only the direct object, but also the indirect object of many
ditransitive verbs (see Section 7.2) can appear as the subject of a passive
clause.
(6) a.
Chichioya wa kodomo ni nusumi o oshie-ta.

father TOP child to stealing ACC teach-PAST

‘The father taught the child how to steal.’

b.
Kodomo wa chichioya ni nusumi o oshie-rare-ta.

child TOP father by stealing ACC teach-PASS-PAST

‘The child was taught how to steal by his father.’

However, the indirect object of the typical ditransitive verbs ageru

‘give’ and kureru ‘give’ cannot be rendered in the passive voice.

231
(7) a. Shigeru wa Midori ni kamera o age-ta.

TOP to camera ACC give-PAST

‘Shigeru gave Midori a camera.’

b.
*Midori wa Shigeru ni kamera o age-rare-ta.

TOP by camera ACC give-PASS-PAST

‘Midori was given a camera by Shigeru.’

(8) a.
Shigeru wa imōto ni kamera o kure-ta.

TOP younger.sister to camera ACC give-PAST

‘Shigeru gave my younger sister a camera.’

b.
*Imōto wa Shigeru ni kamera o kure-rare-ta

younger.sister TOP by camera ACC give-PASS-

‘My younger sister was given a camera by Shigeru.’

12.2 Direct vs. indirect passives

The type of passive in Japanese that corresponds to the English passive, in
which the subject is identical to the direct object of the corresponding
active clause, is called the DIRECT PASSIVE. Japanese additionally permits
two types of passives that are not available in English. The first type
contains the passive form of an intransitive verb, with the subject of the
active verb encoded with the AGENTIVE MARKER ni ‘by’, along with an
extra NP which is introduced as the subject (normally marked by wa). Let
us call this type the INTRANSITIVE PASSIVE.
(9) a.
Midori no kodomo ga abare-ta. [active]

GEN child NOM behave.violently-PAST

‘Midori’s child behaved violently.’

232
 b.
Midori wa kodomo ni abare-rare-ta. [passive]

TOP child by behave.violently-PASS-PAST

‘Midori was adversely affected by her child’s violent behavior/child

behaving violently.’

(10) a.
Midori no otto ga nige-ta. [active]

GEN husband NOM run.away-PAST

‘[Lit.] Midori’s husband ran away (from her)’

‘Midori’s husband left her.’

b.
Midori wa otto ni nige-rare-ta. [passive]

TOP husband by run.away-PASS-PAST

‘Midori was adversely affected by her husband leaving her.’

In the direct passive, the agentive NP is optional, but it is obligatory in

the intransitive passive, e.g. kodomo ‘child’ in (9b) and otto ‘husband’ in
(10b). That is, while the valence (Section 7.3) of the verb in the direct
passive is reduced by one, the valence is increased by one in the
intransitive passive. The extra subject entity is portrayed by the speaker as
having been adversely affected by the described event.
The second type of passive that is unavailable in English involves a
transitive verb, but the direct object of the active clause remains as direct
object of its passive counterpart. Let us call this type the DIRECT-OBJECT
PASSIVE.
(11) a.
Tenchō ga iyami na guchi o it-ta.

manager NOM sarcastic complaint ACC say-PAST

‘The manager made sarcastic remarks.’

b.
Watashi wa tenchō ni iyami guchi o iw-are-ta

233
 na

I TOP manager by sarcastic complaint ACC say-

‘I was adversely affected by my manager’s sarcastic remarks (to me).’

(12) a.
Dareka ga kūkō de Midori no rapputoppu o

someone NOM airport at GEN laptop ACC

‘Someone stole Midori’s laptop at the airport.’

b.
Midori wa kūkō de rapputoppu o nusum-are-ta

TOP airport at laptop ACC steal-PASS

‘Midori was adversely affected by her laptop being stolen while at the airport.’

Again, this passive construction increases the verb’s valence, and the
extra entity is understood as having suffered in or as a result of the
described event. Because of these shared characteristics, the intransitive
and direct-object passives are categorized together and referred to by the
term INDIRECT PASSIVE or ADVERSITY PASSIVE.1
Adversity created by the indirect passive must be separated out from that
implied by the verb itself. For example, if someone is fired, it is very likely
that s/he is negatively affected. However, this sense of adversity is lexical
and borne by both active (13a) and passive (13b) sentences.
(13) a.
Midori ga shain o kaiko shi-ta.

NOM employee ACC dismissal do-PAST

‘Midori fired an employee.’

b.
Shain ga Midori ni kaiko s-are-ta.

employee NOM by dismissal do-PASS-PAST

‘An employee was fired by Midori.’

234
 By contrast, the indirect passive can generate adversity when its active
counterpart does not have such a connotation as illustrated below.
(14) a.
Midori ga uchi ni ki-ta.

NOM house to come-PAST

‘Midori came to (my) house.’ [The speaker might be grateful.]

b.
Midori ni uchi ni k-orare-ta.

by house to come-PASS-PAST

‘I was adversely affected by Midori’s coming to (my) house.’

(15) a.
Midori ga wain o non-da.

NOM wine ACC drink-PAST

‘Midori drank the wine.’ [No negative connotation is

accompanied.]
b.
Midori ni wain o nom-are-ta.

by wine ACC drink-PASS-PAST

‘I was adversely affected by Midori’s drinking the wine.’

The primary motivation for employing the passive voice can be stated in
either of two ways: (i) to “promote” the direct object of the active clause to
the more prominent subject position in the passive clause, or (ii) to
“defocus” the subject of the active clause by effacing it completely, or by
expressing it as an optional, peripheral element. Because there is no direct
object to promote in the case of the intransitive passive, and because the
direct object remains as such in the direct-object passive, Shibatani (1985:
834) cogently concludes that the primary function of the passive voice is
(ii) to defocus the subject, rather than (i) to promote the direct object.
12.3 Adversity in the indirect passive

235
Not all indirect passive clauses connote adversity. Alfonso (1971), for
example, provides numerous examples in which adversity is not implied.
(16) a.
Pāma o kake-te soto ni detara hito ni

perm ACC have-TE outside to when.go people by

furimuk-are-te chotto ureshi-katta.

turn.look.at-PASS-TE a.little happy-PAST

‘When I had a perm and went outdoors, I was pleased when people
turned to look at me.’
b.
Ame ni fur-are-te kaeru no mo omoshiro-i.

rain by fall-PASS-TE go.home NMLZ also interesting-

‘Going home in the rain is somehow attractive/pleasant/comforting.’

However, all indirect passives in Alfonso’s examples occur in

subordinate clauses. Wierzbicka (1979/1988: 262) argues convincingly
that passive verbs have different effects depending upon whether they
occur in a subordinate clause or in the main clause, and that the
connotation of adversity is basically a main-clause phenomenon. For
example, (17a) sounds natural because the adversity induced by the
indirect passive and the content of the sentence cohere, but (17b) sounds
odd because the content is inherently positive. This oddity, however,
disappears when the passive is embedded in a subordinate clause as
happens in (17c).
(17) a.
Jon wa tsuma ni shin-are-ta.

TOP wife by die-PASS-PAST

‘John was adversely affected by his wife’s death.’

b.
?Jon wa tsuma ni naor-are-ta.

TOP wife by recover-PASS-PAST

236
 ‘John was affected by his wife recovering from her illness.’
c.
Jon wa tsuma ni naor-are-te yorokon- i-ru.
de

TOP wife by recover-PASS- please-TE exist-NPST

TE

‘His wife having recovered, John is pleased.’

Nevertheless, some main-clause indirect passives do not give rise to

adversity.
(18) a.
Pāma o kake-te soto ni detara hito ni

perm ACC have-TE outside to when.go people by

furimuk-are-ta.

turn.look.at-PASS-PAST

‘After I had a perm and went out, people turned to look at me.’
b.
Eigakan de kawaii ko ni tonari ni suwar-
are-ta.

movie.theater in pretty girl by next at sit-PASS-

PAST

‘In a movie theater, a pretty girl sat next to me (and I was

affected by it).’

Comparing (18) with typical adversity passives, e.g. (17a), Wierzbicka

hypothesizes that when the subject referent (i.e. the affected person) is
directly involved in the described event, the passive construction does not
result in an adverse connotation. However, in (17a), John has nothing to do
with his wife’s death; therefore, the adverse reading is unavoidable. By
contrast, the speakers (who are the implicit subjects) in (18) were directly
involved in the described situations: s/he was looked at by the people in
(18a), and s/he was sitting next to the girl in (18b). Thus, the situations in

237
(18) are not interpreted as adverse.
Adopting Wierzbicka’s analysis, Shibatani (1990: 330) argues that
involvement cannot be characterized merely in terms of binary
oppositions; it is better understood as the unfolding of a process based
upon a continuum. For example, the object referent of kill is more involved
than that of see (i.e. high and low in transitivity; see Section 7.4).
Shibatani goes on to assert that the less involved the passive subject
referent is in the described event, the stronger the adversity connotation.
Wierzbicka (1979/1988: 273) also observes that when the referent of the
direct object is a body part, the adversity reading does not arise.
(19) a.
Kanja wa ashi o shōdoku s-are-ta.

patient TOP leg ACC disinfection do-PASS-PAST

‘The patient’s leg was disinfected (and the patient was affected
by it).’
b.
Jon wa inu ni ashi o name-rare-ta.

TOP dog by leg ACC lick- PASS-PAST

‘A dog licked John’s leg (and John was affected by it).’

Shibatani (1990: 328) argues that o-marked body parts in the indirect
passive are not direct objects proper; rather, they are locations. Therefore,
when they are to be identified, they are accompanied by doko ‘where’, not
nani ‘what’.
(20) a.
Tarō wa atama o nagur-are-ta.

TOP head ACC hit-PASS-PAST

‘Taro was hit on/in the head.’

b.
Tarō wa doko o nagur-are-ta?

TOP where ACC hit-PASS-PAST

‘Where was Taro hit?’

238
 c.
*Tarō wa nani o nagur-are-ta?

TOP what ACC hit-PASS-PAST

‘With what was Taro hit?’

However, Wierzbicka’s account of involvement as regards adversity

cannot explain the difference between the two sentences in (21).
(21) a.
Jon wa sensei ni kodomo o shikar-are-ta.

TOP teacher by child ACC scold-PASS-PAST

‘John was adversely affected by the teacher scolding his child.’

b.
Jon wa sensei ni kodomo o home-are-ta.

TOP teacher by child ACC praise-PASS-PAST

‘The teacher praised John’s child (and John was affected by it).’

While the construction and the content both point to an adversity reading
in (21a), (21b) can hardly be interpreted negatively. This difference cannot
be directly attributed to the lexical difference between shikaru ‘scold’ and
homeru ‘praise’. Recall the anomaly of (17b), which contains the
semantically positive verb naoru ‘recover’. There, the indirect passive
construction does not accommodate this positive verb, resulting in
marginal acceptability. By contrast, (21b) is perfectly acceptable. One
might suspect that the difference is due to naoru being an intransitive verb
as opposed to homeru being a transitive verb. However, this is not the
case, because the following sentences involve transitive verbs and yet their
semantic components sound odd just as with (17b).
(22) a.
?Jon wa musume ni Akademī-shō o tor-are-ta.

TOP daughter by Academy- ACC obtain-PASS

award

‘John’s daughter won an Academy award (and John was affected by it).’

239
 b.
?Jon wa tsuma ni oishii ryōri o tsukur-are-ta

TOP wife by delicious dish ACC make-PASS

‘John’s wife made a delicious meal (and John was affected by it).’

Because no compelling explanation readily covers these multifarious

linguistic phenomena, Wierzbicka hypothesizes two types of indirect
passive constructions – one invariably adversative, e.g. (17b) and (22), the
other compatible with neutral or positive interpretations, e.g. (21b). Her
solution, while certainly not the most elegant, encourages continuing
research into the phenomenon.
12.4 Agency in passives
When a speaker intends to describe an event empathetically – in regard to
the subject referent that the speaker believes has been affected – the
indirect passive is employed. As such, the subject must refer to a human or
some other sentient being. The examples in (23), derived from Wierzbicka
(1979/1988: 275), illustrate this point.
(23) a.
Jon wa inu ni ashi o name-rare-ta.

TOP dog by leg ACC lick- PASS-PAST

‘A dog licked John’s leg (and John was affected by it).’

b.
*Tēburu wa inu ni ashi o name-rare-ta.

table TOP dog by leg ACC lick- PASS-PAST

‘A dog licked a leg of the table (and the table was affected by
it).’

Furthermore, the agentive NP also typically refers to a person. In (24),

for example, having one’s house burn down or having toothache
doubtlessly negatively impacts the victim, but these situations cannot be
expressed using the indirect passive.
(24) a.
Jon no ie ga moe-ta.

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 GEN house NOM burn-PAST

‘John’s house burned down.’

a′.
*Jon wa ie ni moer-are-ta. (p. 264)

TOP house by burn-PASS-PAST

‘John’s house burned down on him.’

b.
Ha ga itam-u.

tooth NOM ache-NPST

‘My tooth aches.’

b′.
*Watashi wa ha ni itam-are-ta.

I TOP tooth by ache-PASS-PAST

‘My tooth ached (and I was affected by it).’

On the other hand, many natural phenomena (e.g. weather events) may
appear as the agentive entity in this construction.
(25) a.
Midori wa tsunami ni ie o nagas-are-ta.

TOP by house ACC wash.away-PASS-PAST

‘The tsunami washed Midori’s house away on her.’

b.
Midori wa taiyō ni senaka o yak-are-ta.

TOP sun by back ACC burn-PASS-PAST

‘The sun burned Midori’s back (and she was affected by it).’

Iwasaki (2002: 128–29) points out that the choice between active and
passive encoding depends upon where the speaker’s empathy falls. (The
subject is the default position for empathy.) Therefore, the passive

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construction is particularly appropriate when the subject of the active verb
is non-human and its object is human, as occurs in (26a).
(26) a.
Basu ga Tarō o hane-ta.

bus NOM ACC hit-PAST

‘A bus hit Taro.’

b.
Tarō ga basu ni hane-rare-ta.

NOM bus by hit-PASS-PAST

‘Taro was hit by a bus.’

12.5 Stative verbs in passives

Stative verbs (i.e. their non-past tense can refer to the present state) cannot
appear in the passive voice as in (27).
(27) a.
*Jon wa kodomo ni okane ga ir-are-te komat-ta

TOP child by money NOM need-PASS-TE be.troubled-

‘John was troubled because money was needed by/for his child.’

(Kuno 1973: 144)

b.
*Jon wa seito ni jibun yori umaku nihongo ga

TOP student by self than better Japanese NOM

deki-rare-te yowa-tta. (p. 144)

can-PASS-TE be.troubled-PAST

‘John had a difficult time because his students could (speak) Japanese better th
he could.’

The only exception to this rule is iru ‘exist/stay’, which can appear in
the passive voice as in (28).

242
(28) Tomodachi ni osoku made i-rare-te koma-tta.

friend by late until stay-PASS-TE be.troubled-PAST

‘My friend stayed (at my house) until late, and I was worried.’

Iwasaki (2002: 135–36) divides all passive sentences into the EVENTIVE
PASSIVE (including both the direct and indirect passives), which depicts
incidents, and the STATIVE PASSIVE, which describes a characteristic of
the subject entity. While incidents can be instantaneous, characteristics
must range over a period of time. Therefore, the active counterparts of
stative passive sentences generally occur in the ‑te iru construction
(Section 9.3) as shown in the following examples. The eventive passive is
usually more natural when the subject is animate, whereas the stative
passive does not have such a preference.
(29) a.
Takusan no ki ga kono kōen o kakon-de i-ru

many tree NOM this park ACC surround-TE exist-

‘Many trees surround this park.’

b.
Kono kōen wa takusan ki ni kakom-are-te i-ru
no

this park TOP many tree by surround-PASS-TE exist-

‘This park is surrounded by many trees.’

(30) a.
Kono kudamono wa bitamin shī o takusan fukun-de

this fruit TOP vitamin C ACC much contain-

i-ru.

exist-NPST

‘This fruit contains a lot of vitamin C.’

b.
Kono kudamono ni wa bitamin shī ga takusan

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 this fruit in TOP vitamin C ACC much

i-ru.

exist-NPST

‘There is a lot of vitamin C in this fruit.’

12.6 The ni-yotte passive

In the discussion so far, the agentive NP has invariably been marked with
ni, but it can also be marked by ni-yotte, a combination of ni and the te-
form of yoru ‘be due to/caused by’.2 Ni-yotte was appropriated as a
translational equivalent for the Dutch agentive marker door ‘through’
(Kinsui 1997: 771).3 Due to its origin, ni-yotte does not induce adversity
readings, unlike the indigenous agentive marker ni. Therefore, it can freely
appear with non-sentient agentive entities.
Some passive clauses permit both ni and ni-yotte, while others permit
only one or the other. Generally, the direct passive permits both.
(31) a.
Sukaipu ga Maikurosofuto [ni/ni- baishū s-are-ta
yotte]

Skype NOM Microsoft [by] acquisition do-PASS

‘Skype was acquired by Microsoft.’

b.
Sutoraiki- wa hō [ni/ni- hoshō-sare-te i-ru.
ken yotte]

strike-right TOP law [by] guarantee-PASS-TE exist-

‘The right to strike is guaranteed by law.’

However, when the agentive NP is non-human or unidentifiable, the

acceptability of ni-yotte declines.
(32) a.
Tarō ga basu [ni/??ni-yotte] hane-rare-ta.

NOM

244
 bus [by] hit-PASS-PAST

‘Taro was hit by a bus.’

b.
Ie ga tsunami [ni/*ni-yotte] nomikom-are-ta.

house NOM [by] swallow-PASS-PAST

‘The house was engulfed by a tsunami.’

c.
Haka ga dareka [ni/?ni-yotte] horiokos-are-ta.

grave NOM someone [by] uncover-PASS-PAST

‘The grave was uncovered by someone.’

By contrast, when the subject is non-human, ni-yotte can be more fitting

than ni.
(33) a.
Kono konsāto wa shimin [? kikaku s-are-ta.
ni/ni-
yotte]

this concert TOP resident [by] plan do-PASS-PAST

‘This concert was planned by residents.’

b.
Kyōbai wa dīrā [*ni/ni-yotte] okonaw-are-ta.

auction TOP dealer [by] carry.out-PASS-PAST

‘The auction was conducted by a dealer.’

When the verb denotes a creation of some sort, only ni-yotte can mark
the agent (Teramura 1982: 223), e.g. (tonneru o) horu ‘dig (a tunnel),
(hashi o) kakeru ‘build (a bridge)’, kaku ‘write’, tateru ‘build’, tsukuru
‘make’.
(34) a.
Hōjōki wa Kamo no [*ni/ni- kak-are-ta.
Chōmei yotte]

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 TOP [by] write-PASS-PAST

‘Hōjōki (The Ten Foot Square Hut) was written by Kamo no

Chōmei.’
b.
Kono kōen wa shimin [*ni/ni- tsukur-are-ta.
yotte]

this park TOP citizen [by] make-PASS-PAST

‘This park was constructed by citizens.’

In the stative passive, as discussed in the previous section, agency seems

irrelevant to the judgment of acceptability.
(35) a.
Kono kōen wa takusan ki [ni/ni- kakom-are-te
no yotte]

this park TOP many tree [by] surround-PASS-TE

i-ru.

exist-NPST

‘This park is surrounded by many trees.’

b.
Sono furukabe wa ippon bō [ni/ni- sasae-rare-te
no yotte]

that old.wall TOP one rod [by] support-PASS-TE

i-ru.

exist-NPST

‘That old wall is supported by one (Iwasaki 2002: 137)

rod.’

The impersonal nature of ni-yotte does not harmonize well with the
indirect passive, which is inherently emphatic.

246
(36) a.
Jon wa tsuma [ni/*ni-yotte] shin-are-ta.

NOM wife [by] die-PASS-PAST

‘John was adversely affected by his wife’s death.’

b.
Midori wa otto [ni/*ni- nige-rare-ta.
yotte]

TOP husband [by] run.away-PASS-PAST

‘Midori was adversely affected by her husband running away

(from her).’

When the verb is intransitive, ni-yotte in the indirect passive is

completely banned; with a transitive verb, the acceptability varies.
(37) a.
Midori wa tsunami [ni/ni- ie o nagas-are-ta
yotte]

TOP [by] house ACC wash.away-

‘The tsunami washed away Midori’s house.’

b.
Kodomo wa chichioya [ni/ni-yotte] nusumi o oshie-rare-ta

child TOP father [by] stealing ACC teach-

‘The child was taught how to steal by his father.’

c.
Kanja wa kangoshi [ni/ni- ashi o shōdoku s-are-ta
yotte]

patient TOP nurse [by] leg ACC disinfection do-

‘The patient’s wounded leg was disinfected (and the patient was affected by it)
d.
Jon wa inu [ni/?ni-yotte] ashi o name-rare-ta.

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 TOP dog [by] leg ACC lick-PASS-PAST

‘A dog licked John’s leg (and John was affected by it).’

e.
Midori wa dareka [ni/*ni- rapputoppu o nusum-are-ta
yotte]

TOP someone [by] laptop ACC steal-

‘Midori was adversely affected by her laptop being stolen by someone.’

f.
Jon wa sensei [ni/*ni-yotte] kodomo o shikar-are-ta

TOP teacher [by] child ACC scold-PASS

‘John was adversely affected by the teacher scolding his child.’

12.7 The structure of the passive constructions

In Section 11.7, it was demonstrated that the reflexive pronoun jibun ‘self’
must be coreferential with the subject. The interpretation of jibun can be
used to differentiate direct and indirect passive constructions.
(38) a.
Kodomoi wa hahaoyaj ni jibuni no heya de shikar-are-ta

TOP by self GEN room in scold-

‘The childi was scolded by his mother in hisi [Lit. self’s] room.’

b.
Kodomoi wa hahaoyaj ni jibuni/j no heya de nak-are-ta

TOP by self GEN room in cry-

‘The childi was adversely affected by his motherj’s crying in hisi/her

In (38a), which is in the direct passive, jibun is coreferential only with

the subject kodomo, not with the agentive hahaoya. By contrast, in indirect
passive as in (38b), jibun can be coreferential with either the subject
kodomo or the agentive hahaoya. Therefore, while the direct passive has a

248
simple, mono-clausal structure, the indirect passive – upon analysis –
manifests an additional clause embedded at an abstract level of
representation. In this structure, the indirect passive has two subjects at the
abstract level, giving rise to ambiguity in the interpretation of jibun.

Figure 12.1.
12.8 The causative passive
The causative and passive constructions can be combined:
(39) a.
Watashi wa hōkokusho o kai-ta.

I TOP report ACC write-PAST

‘I wrote a report.’ [active]

b.
Buchō wa watashi ni hōkokusho o kak-ase-ta

manager TOP I DAT report ACC write‑CAUS

‘The manager made me write a report.’ [causative]

c.
Watashi wa buchō ni hōkokusho o kak-ase-rare-ta

I TOP manager DAT report ACC write-CAUS

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 ‘I was required by the manager to write a [causative-passive]
report.’

When combined, the causative always precedes the passive. With a u-

verb, the shorter form of the causative (see Section 11.1) is more
frequently used than the longer form.
(40) a. U-verbs: Stem + ‑ase (causative) + rare (passive) or stem + ‑as +
‑are
kak-ase-rare-ru kak-as-are-ru to be made to write

hanas-ase-rare-ru hanas-as-are-ru to be made to speak

mat-ase-rare-ru mat-as-are-ru to be made to wait

yom-ase-rare-ru yom-as-are-ru to be made to read

kaer-ase-rare-ru kaer-as-are-ru to be made to go home

iw-ase-rare-ru iw-as-are-ru to be made to say

b. Ru-verbs: Stem + ‑sase + rare
tabe-sase-rare-ru to be made to eat

mi-sase-rare-ru to be made to watch

c.
Kuru: ko-sase-rare-ru to be made to come
d.
Suru: s-ase-rare-ru to be made to do
1 Shibatani (1994: 481) contends that, across languages, whether the extra
subject entity is predominantly associated with an adversity or adverse
reading depends to a great extent upon whether a given language has a
distinct benefactive construction. Japanese does, as will be discussed in
Chapter 13, so its indirect passive typically cannot have a positive reading.
2 The third possibility of agentive marking is the use of kara ‘from’, e.g.
Sensei kara homer-are-ta ‘(I) received praise by (from) the teacher’.
However, kara as an agentive marker is limited to transitive verbs with
low transitivity, e.g. aisu ‘love’, chūi suru ‘warn’, iu ‘say’, kiku ‘ask’,
kirau ‘hate’, mitomeru ‘recognize’, motomeru ‘want’, oshieru ‘teach’.

250
3 Kinsui (1997: 772) found the first occurrence of ni-yotte in a Dutch
grammar book published in 1822.

251
 13 Benefactives
13.1 Introduction
One of the salient differences between Japanese and English language use
occurs in the expression of one’s subjective evaluation of a conveyed
event. Such expressions are sometimes mandatory in Japanese, but never
in English. For example, the language of the speaker of (1a) sounds
indifferent and is, potentially, socially inappropriate. Its English
translation, on the other hand, exhibits none of these negative qualities.
(1) a.
Chichi wa watashi ni kuruma o katta.

father TOP I DAT car ACC bought

‘My father bought me a car.’

If the speaker is grateful for his/her father’s buying a car for him/her, it
is idiomatic to add the auxiliary verb kureru ‘give’ to express this feeling
of gratefulness.
b.
Chichi wa watashi ni kuruma o kat-te kureta.

father TOP I DAT car ACC buy-TE gave

‘[Lit.] My father gave me a favor of buying a car.’

Because this type of construction describes actions or events from which

someone receives benefit, it is called a BENEFACTIVE (CONSTRUCTION).
This chapter explores the structure and usage of Japanese benefactive
constructions.
13.2 Donatory verbs
Benefactives employ verbs that convey meanings of giving and receiving,
collectively referred to as DONATORY VERBS. There are three kinds: the
AGERU-type (ageru, yaru, sashiageru), KURERU-type (kureru,
kudasaru), and MORAU-type (morau, itadaku).1 In the case of AGERU
and KURERU, the giver occupies the subject position of the clause, and
the receiver is marked with the dative particle ni (Section 7.2); for
MORAU, these positions are reversed: the giver is marked with either the
dative ni or the particle kara ‘from’, and the receiver moves into the

252
subject slot. AGERU and KURERU can be translated into English as
‘give’, and MORAU as ‘receive’.
(2) a.
Chiyoko wa Eiji ni mikan o ageta.

TOP DAT tangerine ACC gave

‘Chiyoko gave Eiji (some) tangerines.’

b.
Chiyoko wa watashi ni nashi o kureta.

TOP I DAT pear ACC gave

‘Chiyoko gave me (some) pears.’

c.
Chiyoko wa Eiji ni kuri o moratta.

TOP DAT chestnut ACC receive

‘Chiyoko received (some) chestnuts from Eiji.’

‘Chiyoko was given (some) chestnuts by Eiji.’

Two mutually independent factors are involved in the selection of a

particular donatory verb: (i) the direction of transfer with respect to the in-
group/out-group distinction; and (ii) the relative status of the giver and
receiver. If rules regarding (i) are violated, the sentence will be
ungrammatical and thus unacceptable. On the other hand, if rules
regarding (ii) are violated, the sentence itself will be grammatical, but
one’s judgment of the relative statuses of the participants may be rejected
as inappropriate.
13.2.1 Directions of transfer
To clarify the transfer direction, consider Figures 13.1 and 13.2 below.
The speaker is located in the center of the universe of discourse, and
surrounding him/her are the IN-GROUP (e.g. his/her family members and
close friends) and OUT-GROUP individuals.2
(3) a. AGERU cannot be used for inward transfer.
OK: Speaker ⇒ In-group NO: In-group ⇒ Speaker

253
 Speaker ⇒ Out-group Out-group ⇒
Speaker

In-group ⇒ Out-group Out-group ⇒ In-

group

In-group ⇒ In-group

Out-group ⇒ Out-
group
b.KURERU can be used only for inward transfer.
OK: In-group ⇒ Speaker NO: Speaker ⇒ In-group

Out-group ⇒ Speaker Speaker ⇒ Out-group

Out-group ⇒ In- In-group ⇒ Out-

group group

In-group ⇒ In-group
When the recipient is the speaker him/herself, watashi ni ‘to me’ is
usually omitted. Within the in-group, the speaker may feel someone
is closer to him/her than the others. In this case, the speaker can use
KURERU when the receiver is closer to him/her than is the giver or
AGERU when the giver is closer to him/her.
c. MORAU verbs cannot be used for outward transfer.
OK: Speaker ⇐ In-group NO: In-group ⇐ Speaker

Speaker ⇐ Out-group Out-group ⇐

Speaker

In-group ⇐ Out-group Out-group ⇐ In-

group

In-group ⇐ In-group

Out-group ⇐ Out-
group

254
Figure 13.1. AGERU and KURERU.

Figure 13.2. MORAU.

13.2.2 Relative status of giver and receiver
Relative status is highly conventional; that is, to a great extent, status is
socioculturally determined, and the speaker normally does not have total
freedom to set or alter it. In most cultures, certain people are regarded as
higher in status. Criteria can include age, body size/shape, ethnicity,
lineage, occupation, sex, skin color, wealth, wisdom, and so forth.
However, differing hierarchies usually exist within a single culture, and
one need not observe the dominant one. Take, for example, the status of
educators and the fact that in Japanese society education is highly
regarded. Sensei ‘teacher/professor’ is a term that signals respect, so when
it is used in combination with the humilific sashiageru in (4a), the
professor is elevated linguistically, which is consistent with conventional

255
language practice. However, (4b) does not encode respect for the
professor.
(4) a.
Shiga-sensei ni o-tegami o sashiageta.

to letter.HON ACC gave.HON

‘I gave a letter to Professor Shiga.’

b.
Shiga-sensei ni tegami o ageta/yatta.

to letter ACC gave

‘I gave a letter to Professor Shiga.’

Naturally, not all people respect their teachers, and those who do not
must use a different, even derogatory addressing term when they wish to
show their contempt. Senkō can serve this purpose. Senkō ni tegami o
yatta is linguistically flawless. However, some native speakers of Japanese
might claim that this sentence is unacceptable. What they think is
unacceptable is, however, the speaker’s attitude towards his/her teacher as
conveyed by the utterance, but not the utterance or sentence in and of
itself.
Yaru is used when the speaker considers the receiver to be inferior to the
giver as well as to the speaker. Because of this discriminating nuance, yaru
is used infrequently, especially by female speakers. The existence of a
hierarchical attitude towards animals is also worthy of comment. If, for
example, one thinks of a pet animal/bird/etc. as a family member, ageru,
rather than yaru, is more likely to be employed, as in Maiasa neko ni
iwashi o ageru ‘I feed (my) cat sardines every morning’. When the pet,
however, is a tropical fish, the utility of yaru increases, and when the
receiver is a plant, e.g. when watering (giving water to) a plant, many
select yaru.
13.3 Benefactive constructions
Donatory verbs appear as auxiliaries in benefactive constructions, which
encode a BENEFACTOR (a person who confers a favor of performing some
act) and a BENEFICIARY (a person who receives the benefit). The action
that the benefactor performs is encoded as the main verb in the te-form as
in (5).

256
(5) a. Chiyoko wa Eiji ni tebukuro o an-de ageta.

TOP DAT glove ACC knit-TE gave

‘Chiyoko knitted gloves for Eiji.’

b.
Chiyoko wa (watashi ni) jagaimo o yude-te kureta

TOP (I DAT) potato ACC boil-TE gave

‘Chiyoko boiled a potato for me.’

c.
Chiyoko wa Eiji ni sōgankyō o naoshi-te moratta

TOP DAT binocular ACC repair-TE received

‘[Lit.] Chiyoko received from Eiji the favor of repairing (her)

binoculars.’

When -te ageru and -te kureru are used, the subject referent is the
benefactor, and the dative NP (Section 7.2) designates the beneficiary. In
the case of -te morau, the subject referent is the beneficiary, and the dative
NP designates the benefactor.
13.3.1 Two types of beneficiary
There are two kinds of beneficiary: one who benefits by receiving
something, and one who benefits by having someone do something on
his/her behalf. The former is referred to as a RECIPIENT BENEFICIARY,
and the latter as a DEPUTATIVE BENEFICIARY. A recipient beneficiary
need not receive a tangible object as is illustrated by the sentences in (6).
(6) a.
Chiyoko wa Eiji ni piano o hii-te ageta.

TOP DAT piano ACC play-TE gave

‘Chiyoko played the piano for Eiji.’

b.
Chiyoko wa (watashi ni) ryōri o oshie-te kureta

TOP (I DAT) cooking ACC teach-TE gave

257
 ‘Chiyoko taught me how to cook.’
c.
Chiyoko wa Eiji ni jogen o shi-te moratta.

TOP DAT advice ACC do-TE received

‘[Lit.] Chiyoko received from Eiji a favor of giving (her) advice.’

Unlike a recipient beneficiary, a deputative beneficiary cannot be

marked with the dative particle ni; instead, no tame ni ‘for the sake of’
must be employed.
(7) a.
Chiyoko wa Eiji [*ni/no tame ni] rirekisho o

TOP [*DAT/for.the.sake.of] CV ACC

‘Chiyoko prepared [Lit. wrote] a (Eiji’s) curriculum vitae for Eiji.’

b.
Chiyoko wa watashi [*ni/no tame ni] ginkō ni

TOP I [*DAT/for.the.sake.of] bank to

‘Chiyoko went to the bank for me.’

In the -te morau construction, as in (7c), the particle ni marks the benefactor, not t
beneficiary. Therefore, a ni-marked NP can always occur with -te morau
type of benefit.
c.
Chiyoko wa Eiji ni ginkō ni it-te moratta.

TOP DAT bank to go-TE received

‘Chiyoko had Eiji go to the bank for her.’

13.3.2 The event benefactive

While -te ageru and -te morau require, explicitly or implicitly, the
presence of a benefactor, -te kureru can be used to express gratitude or
relief for the occurrence of an event that need not have an agent.
(8) a.
Jishin ga yatto osamat-te kureta.

258
 earthquake NOM finally cease-TE gave

‘The earthquake finally ceased (and I’m grateful for it).’

b.
Kabuka ga jōshō shi-te kureta.

stock.price NOM rise-TE gave

‘The stock price has risen (and I benefitted from it).’

c.
Kodomo ga yatto ne-te kureta.

child NOM finally sleep-TE gave

‘The kids finally fell asleep (and I’m thankful for that).’

This type is called the EVENT BENEFACTIVE (Smith 2005: 41). In this
case, the beneficiary must be the speaker him/herself, but watashi ni ‘for
me’ cannot be expressed overtly. Because there is no human benefactor to
be honored, the honorific kudasaru cannot be used in this construction.
13.4 Implicit meanings of donatory verbs
Donatory verbs are problematic if the speaker wishes to show respect
equally to both giver and receiver. When grateful to their teachers, for
example, adult native speakers of Japanese feel uneasy using (9), which
lacks an honorific expression.
(9)
Shiga-sensei wa Fujita-sensei ni hon o ageta.

TOP DAT book ACC gave

‘Professor Shiga gave a book to Professor Fujita.’

The humilific version of AGERU, sashiageru, cannot be used here

because it automatically places Professor Shiga (the subject) lower than
Professor Fujita (the indirect object).
Furthermore, donatory verbs are not translational equivalents of
‘give/receive’ in English. Rather, they are closer in meaning to
‘donate/bestow/make a present of’.3 That is, they describe situations of

259
someone well off (i.e. of superior status) giving something to someone
who is less fortunate (i.e. of inferior status).4 Therefore, (9) might be
(mis)interpreted as Professor Shiga having more resources than Professor
Fujita. In such difficult situations, tactful speakers use less “colorful” verbs
such as okuru ‘present’ and its honorific version o-okuri ni naru.
(10)
Shiga- wa Fujita- ni hon o o-okuri ni
sensei sensei natta.

TOP DAT book ACC presented.HON

‘Professor Shiga gave a book to Professor Fujita.’

Similarly, many native speakers feel uncomfortable with (11a) because

the sentence lacks an honorific. Uketoru ‘receive’, which is more neutral
than morau, and its honorific version o-uketori ni naru are preferable.
(11) a.
Fujita- wa Shiga- ni hon o moratta.
sensei sensei

TOP DAT book ACC received

‘Professor Fujita received a book from Professor Shiga.’

b.
Fujita- wa Shiga- kara hon o o-uketori ni
sensei sensei natta.

TOP from book ACC received.HON

‘Professor Fujita received a book from Professor Shiga.’

The problem with AGERU is more pronounced in the -te ageru

construction.
(12) a.
Sensei, otetsudai shi-te sashiagemashō ka?

teacher help do-TE give.HUM.CNJ.POL INT

‘Professor, shall I give you a hand?’

Sashiageru is the humilific version of AGERU, showing deference

260
 to the non-subject referent, in this case the professor. Therefore,
(12a) should be appropriate. Nevertheless, it sounds insolent due to
the proprietary overtone of donatory verbs as explained above: that
is, in using such a verb, the speaker bestows a favor to the person
in need. More acceptable alternatives are the following.
b.
Sensei, otetsudai shimashō ka?

teacher help do.CNJ.POL INT

‘Professor, shall I help you?’

c.
Sensei, otetsudai s-ase-te kudasai.

teacher help do-CAUS.TE please.give

‘Professor, please let me help you.’

13.5 The -te morau causative

Inherently coarse, causative constructions (Chapter 11) are usually
appropriate only in the following situations: (i) when the causer has total
control over the causee, e.g. (13a); (ii) when exercising power is part of the
causer’s responsibility, e.g. (13b); (iii) when the sentence depicts an event
as an objective fact, e.g. (13c).
(13) a.
Saibankan wa mokugekisha o shuttō-sase-ta.

judge TOP witness ACC appear-CAUS-PAST

‘The judge made the witness appear in the court.’

b.
Hahaoya wa kodomo ni ha o migak-ase-ta.

mother TOP child DAT tooth ACC polish-CAUS-PAST

‘The mother made the child brush his teeth.’

c.
Yoron wa kaisha ni seihin o kaishū

public.opinion TOP company DAT product ACC recall

261
 ‘Public opinion made the company recall its product.’

Because the saseru causative can sound arrogant in certain situations,

many people avoid it in favor of the -te morau construction, which softens
the sense of demanding associated with causatives.
(14) a.
Denkiya-san ni kūrā o naos-ase-ta.

electrician DAT air.conditioner ACC repair-CAUSE-PAST

‘(I) made the electrician repair the air conditioner.’

b.
Denkiya- ni kūrā o naoshi-te morat-ta.
san

electrician DAT air.conditioner ACC repair-TE receive-PAST

‘[Lit.] (I) received a favor of repairing the air conditioner from the
electrician.’

‘(I) had the electrician repair the air conditioner.’

The use of saseru as in (14a) emphasizes the demanding nature of the

causer (the speaker), and thus that sentence, and ones like it, are viewed as
less than ideal. In (14b), the speaker asked the electrician to repair the air
conditioner, and, consequently, the electrician complied. The sentence,
therefore, is semantically causative, but it is still preferable because it
frames the event in a more humble fashion. For another example, consider
(15):
(15) a.
Raigetsu Yoshida-san o yame-sase-ru.

next.month ACC quit-CAUS-NPST

‘[Lit.] (I) will make Yoshida quit (the company) next month.’

‘(I) will fire Yoshida next month.’

b.
Raigetsu Yoshida-san ni yame-te mora-u.

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 next.month DAT quit-TE receive-NPST

‘[Lit.] (I) will receive a favor of quitting (the company) from

Yoshida next month.’

‘(I) will ask Yoshida to resign from (the company) next month.’

No matter how it is expressed, the situation and its outcome remain the
same. That is, if the speaker of (15) has the authority to dismiss Yoshida,
and if the decision has already been made, Yoshida will have no choice but
to comply. The speaker of (15b) does not intend to give Yoshida discretion
to make a choice; rather, the speaker wishes to appear non-autocratic and
in compliance with the requirements of refined linguistic taste.
Examining a speech corpus consisting of transcribed telephone
conversations, Smith (2005: 219–22) found 178 instances of the -te morau
construction, of which 114 (64%) were semantically causative:
(16) a.
Un, kai-te moraō.

yeah write-TE receive.VOL

‘Yeah, let’s have (him) write (a letter).’

b.
Shirabe-te morat-ta?

examine-TE receive-PAST

‘Have (you) had (your doctor) examine (your lungs)?’

Her findings confirmed the tendency of speakers to use the -te morau
construction in order to avoid explicitly causative sentences.
13.6 The causative + -te itadaku
The causative followed by -te itadaku is frequently used as an intensely
humble expression. The following two sentences involve contrasting
expressions used in regard to making an entrance.
(17) A:
Dōzo hait-te kudasai.5

please enter-TE give

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 ‘Please come in.’
B:
Hair-ase-te itadakimasu.

enter-CAUS-TE receive.POL

‘[Lit.] I receive the favor of your making me enter.’

‘Thank you for letting me in.’

When an interlocutor of higher status requests something be done, as in

(17A), the interlocutor of lower status typically must comply. Therefore,
such a request exerts a causative force, which is acknowledged by the
humble tone of (17B).
However, in many instances, the causative + -te itadaku is used merely
to express one’s own determination as illustrated in the following
examples:
(18) a.
Posted on a bulletin board in a store window:

Teikyūbi ni tsuki, kyūgyō s-ase-te

regular.holiday because suspension.of.operation do-CAUS-

‘Because it is a regular holiday, our store is closed.’

b.
Heisha no atarashii jigyō no go-setsumei

company.HUM GEN new project GEN explanation.HON

s-ase-te itadakimasu.

do-CAUS-TE receive.POL

‘Let me explain our company’s new project.’

In (18a), the store does not need the customer’s consent regarding when
to close; in (18b), no one has asked the speaker to explain the project.
These utterances pretend or presume that the given act is performed in

264
compliance with the addressee’s request/demand. Those who use this
construction as a more-or-less fixed expression regard it as a mere humble
expression, but those who are aware of the meanings of each of its
constituents consider it pretentious or even arrogant (Bunkachō 2007: 40–
41).
13.7 -Te kureru vs. -te kuru
The -te kureru construction is commonly utilized when the speaker is
appreciative of an event in which s/he is involved. When, on the other
hand, the speaker evaluates an event negatively, such negativity can be
expressed with a -te kuru construction. Kuru literally means ‘come’, and -
te kuru is used to convey a variety of meanings (Hasegawa 1996b).
Compare the following sentences derived from Tokunaga (1986: 130).
(19) a.
Tomu wa watashi ga komatte ita node, okane

TOP I NOM was.in.trouble because money

kashi-te kureta.

lend-TE gave

‘Tom lent me money because I was troubled [financially] (and I’m grateful to
him).’
b.
Tomu wa watashi ga ir-anai to iu noni,

TOP I NOM need.neg QUOT say although

o kashi-te kita.

ACC lend-TE came

‘Tom lent me money although I said I didn’t need it (and I’m annoyed).’

Note, however, that -te kuru in (20) does not carry a negative
connotation.
(20)
Ginkō ga (yatto) okane o kashi-te kita.

NOM (finally) money ACC lend-TE came

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 ‘(Finally,) the bank lent me the money.’

This difference is due to differing expectations based on human nature

and social norms. It is routine business for a bank to lend money, but it is
exceptional for a friend to do so. Therefore, when a friend lends money to
the speaker, the speaker is typically grateful. The use of -te kuru indicates
that this normal interpretation of the situation does not hold. On the other
hand, it is not necessary to show appreciation when a bank lends money;
that is, expressing gratitude or annoyance becomes irrelevant, and,
consequently, -te kuru does not imply the speaker’s annoyance. Kuru in
this case simply indicates that the movement of the object is towards the
speaker.
13.8 Malefactive rendering
The benefactive constructions utilizing yaru, kureru, and morau can also
be used to convey adversative nuances as exemplified in (21), wherein the
agent performs an action with the effect of negatively impacting a second
party. A grammatical construction specialized to express such an event is
called a MALEFACTIVE.
(21) a.
Hara ga tatta node, oikaeshi-te yatta.

stomach NOM stiffen because turn.away-TE gave

‘Because I got angry, I turned (him) away.’

b.
Yatsura o korashime-te kureru.

they ACC punish-TE give

‘I’ll give them punishment.’

c.
Uteru mono nara, ut-te moraō.

Shoot thing if shoot-TE receive.VOL

‘[Lit.] If you can shoot me, I’d receive the favor of shooting
me.’

‘If you dare shoot me, go ahead and do it!’

266
 Whether or not Japanese benefactive constructions also serve as
malefactives merits further consideration. Is it not absurd to characterize a
given grammatical construction as both benefactive and malefactive?
Smith (2005: 2) factors out positive and negative evaluations from the
characterizations of constructions employing donatory verbs, categorizing
them more abstractly as AFFECTEDNESS CONSTRUCTIONS. That is, some
participants are affected, but whether to evaluate an event positively or
negatively is not specified and depends upon the context within which the
construction is situated. This is a reasonable outcome, but I should point
out that these constructions are predominantly benefactive. In fact, it took
me some time to create the malefactive examples in (21). This suggests to
me that these constructions are indeed benefactives, and that benefactives
can be used ironically to express malefaction. An extreme case is
exemplified in (22), which can be and has been used in yakuza ‘gangster’
movies.
(22)
Shin-de itadakimasu.

die-TE receive

‘[Lit.] I honorably receive your favor of dying.’

‘Thank you for dying.’

1 Sashiageru and itadaku are humilific (humbling) verbs, which
linguistically lower the subject referent in order to show respect to the
referent of the direct or indirect object NP. By contrast, kudasaru is an
honorific verb, which indicates the speaker’s deference towards the subject
referent. See Chapter 20 for details.
2 The in-group is flexibly defined according to the speech situation. For
example, when an employee talks with a colleague about their CEO, the
CEO is treated as a member of their out-group, and normally honorific
expressions are employed. However, when an employee represents his/her
company and talks with a client about the CEO, the CEO is conventionally
considered to be a member of the in-group. Therefore, the use of
honorifics is prohibited or discouraged. For further discussion, see Wetzel
(1984: 231–32) and Hasegawa and Hirose (2005: 227–28).
3 Donatory verbs are different from English give in another respect. While
give does not necessarily indicate transfer of ownership (i.e. it can be used

267
as a synonym of hand over), Japanese donatory verbs encode a change in
ownership.
4 With KURERU, the receiver is the speaker or his/her in-group member.
Lowering oneself or one’s in-group is not risky behavior; therefore, the
problem discussed here does not apply to KURERU.
5 Kudasai is the request (command) form of kudasu ‘hand down’.

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 14 Noun modification and complementation
14.1 Introduction
Nouns in Japanese can be modified by (i) another noun, (ii) a na-adjective,
or (iii) an i-adjective as shown in the three examples in (1). In (1a), the
genitive particle no is inserted after the modifying noun, in (1b), na, the
attributive form (i.e. noun-modifying form; see Section 6.2) of the copula,
is used before a noun, and in (1c), the i-adjective modifies the noun
directly.
(1) a.
watashi no uchi [noun]

I GEN house

‘my house.’
b.
kirei na uchi [na-adjective]

beautiful COP.ATT house

‘a beautiful house’
c.
hiroi uchi [i-adjective]

spacious house

‘a spacious house’

Nouns can also be modified by a clause termed a RELATIVE CLAUSE

(RC). In Japanese, all modifying elements must precede the modified
noun.
14.2 The gapped externally headed relative clause
Sentence (2) contains a RC and the HEAD noun phrase (NP), the apple,
which is located outside the RC. Inside the RC, the apple functions as the
direct object of the verb bought; however, it cannot be expressed overtly:
*I ate the apple that/which Joan bought the apple/it. This obligatory gap
inside the RC that corresponds to the head NP is marked by “Ø”.
(2)
I ate the apple [that/which Joan bought Ø].

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 HEAD RELATIVE CLAUSE

English allows only this type of RC, which is called a GAPPED

EXTERNALLY HEADED RELATIVE CLAUSE. This type is common in
Japanese as well.
Unlike in ordinary clauses, the subject inside a Japanese RC can be
marked with the genitive particle no in addition to regular nominative
marking with ga as shown in (3b). Although it is possible for the polite
form (desu/masu form; see Subsection 20.2.1) to appear in a RC, the
predicate in a RC is normally in plain form even when the entire sentence
is considered polite speech. The relative pronouns (that, who, whom,
which) which appear at the beginning of RC constructions in English do
not exist in Japanese. Therefore, no overt marker punctuates the boundary
between the RC and the head NP.
(3) a.
Ichirō ga ringo o katta.

NOM apple ACC bought

‘Ichiro bought an apple.’

b.
[Ichirō ga/no Ø katta] ringo o tabemashita.

[ NOM/GEN bought] apple ACC ate.POL

RELATIVE HEAD
CLAUSE

‘I ate the apple that Ichiro bought.’

The gap in a RC can be the subject as in (4a) or the direct object as in

(4b).
(4) a.
[Ø kinō watashi ni denwa shita] hito

[ yesterday I to telephoned] person

‘the person who called me yesterday’

b.
[watashi ga/no Ø sonkei suru] hito

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 [I NOM/GEN respect] person

‘a person whom I respect’

When the gap functions as the indirect object as in (4c) or as the genitive
(i.e. possessor) as in (4d), no-marking of the subject is prohibited. If no
were employed, the subject NP would be confused as the possessor of the
following direct object, e.g. watashi no hon ‘my book’ in (4c) and watashi
no namae ‘my name’ in (4d).
c.
[watashi ga/*no Ø hon o todoketa] hito

[I NOM/GEN book ACC delivered] person

‘the person to whom I delivered the book’

d.
[watashi ga/*no Ø namae o wasureta] hito

[I NOM/GEN name ACC forgot] person

‘a person whose name I forgot’

Expressions of time or location/goal can also become the head NP as in

(5) and (6).
(5) a.
Watashi wa sono hi saibansho ni itta.

I TOP that day courthouse to went

‘I went to the courthouse on that day.’

b.
[watashi ga Ø saibansho ni itta] hi

[I NOM courthouse to went] day

‘the day on which I went to the courthouse’

(6) a.
Watashi wa machi ni kita.

TOP

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 I town to came

‘I came to the town.’

b.
[watashi ga/no Ø kita] machi1

[I NOM/GEN came] town

‘the town to/from which I came’

Although the attributive and conclusive forms of i-adjectives and verbs

are identical in Modern Japanese, except for the copula, they were distinct
in classical Japanese. For example, the modern adjective furui ‘old’ had an
attributive form, furuki (e.g. furuki miyako ‘old capital city’),2 and a
conclusive form, furushi. Verbs also had two distinct forms; for the
modern verb ukeru ‘receive’, the attributive form was ukuru (e.g. [Ø jihi o
ukuru] mono ‘a person who receives mercy’), and the conclusive form was
uku. However, these two forms merged, and by the fourteenth century, the
old attributive form had been established as the new conclusive form in the
spoken language (Komatsu 1999/2001: 184). When attributive forms
existed, the boundary between the RC and its head NP was clearly
identified as coming after the attributive form of the predicate.
This merger of the attributive and conclusive forms has made noun
modification with an adjective structurally ambiguous. For example, (1b–
1c) can be analyzed as the na-adjective kirei ‘beautiful’ and the i-adjective
hiroi ‘spacious’ modifying the noun uchi ‘house’, as in (1b–1c), or as
involving a RC as in (7a–7b).
(1) b.
kirei na uchi [na-adjective]

beautiful COP.ATT house

‘a beautiful house’
c.
hiroi uchi [i-adjective]

spacious house

‘a spacious house’

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(7) a.
[Ø kirei na] uchi

[ beautiful COP.ATT] house

‘a beautiful house’
b.
[Ø hiroi] uchi

[ spacious] house

‘a spacious house’

By contrast, when the head corresponds to a genitive NP within the RC,

e.g. uchi no daidokoro ‘the house’s kitchen’, the modifying constituent
unambiguously involves a RC.
c.
[Ø daidokoro ga/no kirei na] uchi

[ kitchen NOM/GEN beautiful COP.ATT] house

‘the house whose kitchen is beautiful’

d.
[Ø daidokoro ga/no hiroi] uchi

[ kitchen NOM/GEN spacious] house

‘the house whose kitchen is spacious’

14.3 The internally headed relative clause

In Japanese, the head NP can be situated inside a RC. This construction,
which is rare among the world’s languages,3 is referred to as an
INTERNALLY HEADED RELATIVE CLAUSE.
(8) a.
Ringo ga tēburu no ue ni atta.

apple NOM table GEN top on existed

‘There was an apple on the table.’

b.

273
 [Ringo ga tēburu no ue ni atta] no o

[apple NOM table GEN top on existed] NMLZ ACC

‘I ate the apple that was on the table.’

The main clause in (8b) asserts that the speaker ate something, and that
what was eaten is a ringo ‘apple’, which appears inside the RC.
Structurally, (8b) is equivalent to I ate that there was an apple on the
table, which, of course, is nonsensical in English. More examples follow
below:
(9) a.
[Tomodachi ga CD o kashite kureta] no

[friend NOM ACC lend.TE gave] NMLZ

‘[Lit.] I lost that a friend of mine lent me a CD.’

‘A friend of mine lent me a CD, which I lost.’

b.
[Hahaoya ga ginkō ni okane o furikonde kureta]

[mother NOM bank to money ACC transfer.TE gave]

o Ichirō wa kyō hikidashita

ACC TOP today withdrew

‘[Lit.] Ichiro withdrew today that (his) mother transferred money to (his) bank.’

‘Today Ichiro withdrew the money that (his) mother had transferred to (his) ban

Because the head NP is not specially marked as such in the RC, this
construction may create ambiguity:
(10) a.
[Keikan ga dorobō o oi kakete no ga
ita]

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 [police NOM thief ACC was.chasing] NMLZ NOM

‘A police officer was chasing a thief, and the police officer fell into the river.’

‘A police officer was chasing a thief, and the thief fell into the river.’

‘A police officer was chasing a thief, and they both fell into the river.’

In the RC of (10a), two persons are mentioned, a police officer and a

thief. The sentence can mean that either one fell into the river, or both of
them did. In contrast, the semantics of (10b) prevent an ambiguous
rendering.
b.
[Otonari ga daiku- o yonda] no o uchi
san

[neighbor NOM carpenter ACC called] NMLZ ACC house

‘(My) neighbor called a carpenter, and I had (him/her) sent around to (my) house.’

The internally headed RC occurs mostly in narratives to advance the

story line (Ohara 1996: 82). Consider the following English RCs.
(11) a. I gave the letter to the clerk who was wearing a blue jacket.
b. I gave the letter to the clerk, who was insolent, and left the bank.
c. I gave the letter to the clerk, who then copied it.
In the (11a) situation, there were several clerks, and who was wearing a
blue jacket designates the one to whom the speaker handed the letter; this
type is called a RESTRICTIVE RELATIVE CLAUSE. In (11b), there may
have been only one clerk or several, but the relevant clerk has already been
identified in the preceding discourse, and who was insolent provides
supplemental information about the clerk; this type is called a NON-
RESTRICTIVE RELATIVE CLAUSE.5 The RC in (11c) functions differently
from either type: it effects narrative progress rather than identifying the
referent or supplying additional information. Thus, it is labeled a
NARRATIVE-ADVANCING RELATIVE CLAUSE. (11c) can be paraphrased
as (11d); and s/he here is considered to be conflated into who in (11c).
d. I gave the letter to the clerk, and s/he then copied it.
Likewise, the function of the internally headed RC in Japanese is to
advance narration, and it can be paraphrased as follows (compare with

275
(9a–9b)):
(9) a
Tomodachi ga CD o kashite kureta ga, nakushite
′.
friend NOM ACC lend.TE gave but lose.TE

‘A friend of mine lent me a CD, but (I) lost (it).’

b′.
Hahaoya ga ginkō ni okane o furikonde kureta

mother NOM bank to money ACC transfer.TE gave

Ichirō wa kyō hikidashita.

TOP today withdrew

‘(Ichiro’s) mother transferred money to (his) bank, and he withdrew (it) today.’

14.4 The gapless relative clause

The third type of RC that Japanese permits is the GAPLESS RELATIVE
CLAUSE.6 It has an external head NP, but the RC contains no
corresponding gap. In other words, the head NP is neither structurally nor
semantically integrated into the RC.
(12) a.
[dareka ga kaidan o orite-kuru] oto

[someone NOM stairs ACC descend-come] sound

‘the sound of someone descending the stairs’

In (12a), the RC has no missing constituent; hence, the term gapless RC

applies. In (12b), the RC lacks the subject of katta ‘bought’, but it must be
a person, not the change, which is referred to by the externally located
head. The omission of the subject here is an instance of stylistic
preference, quite normal in Japanese, and has nothing to do with the RC
formation.
b.
[Ø kōhī o katta] otsuri

[ coffee ACC bought] change

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 ‘the change from buying coffee’

The subject of the RC is also absent in (12c–12d), but it cannot be the

book or the TV commercial, respectively, referred to by the corresponding
head. (12c) interpreted fully means ‘a book such that if one reads it, one
can become (learn to be) more considerate to others’; and (12d) is
understood as ‘a TV commercial such that it is so interesting/exciting/etc.
that one cannot leave for the bathroom while it is showing’.
c.
[Ø hito ni yasashiku nareru] hon

[ people to kind can.become] book

‘a book that (helps you) become more considerate to others’

d.
[Ø toire ni ikenai] komāsharu

[ toilet to cannot.go] commercial

‘a TV commercial that is (too interesting/exciting/etc.) to leave for

the bathroom’

In (13a), the head indicates the time when the RC event took place.
Therefore, one can consider the head in (13a) to be a spatiotemporal
constituent of the RC, an instance of the gapped externally headed RC.
(13) a.
[Jirō ga taiho sareta] hi

[ NOM was.arrested] day

‘the day when Jiro was arrested’

However, (13b) clearly involves a gapless RC because yokujitsu ‘day

after’ cannot be a constituent of the RC.
b.
[Jirō ga taiho sareta] yokujitsu

[ NOM was.arrested] day.after

‘the very next day of the day when Jiro was arrested’

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14.5 Extraction from adverbial clauses
The gapless RC can be analyzed as an instance of extraction from an
adverbial (subordinate) clause. For example, (12c) can be analyzed as
(14b):
(14) a.
[Sono hon o yomu to]Adv hito ni yasashiku

[that book ACC read if] people to kind

‘If you read that book, you can become more considerate to others.’
b.

[[Ø yomu to]Adv hito ni yasashiku nareru]Rel

[[ read if] people to kind can.become]

‘[Lit.] the book such that if (you) read (it), (you) can become more considerate
to others’

The adverbial clause can then be omitted completely. Another example

of this type of RC is provided below:
(15) a.
[Sono hito ga yameta node]Adv minna hotto shita

[that person NOM stepped.down because] everyone became.relie

‘Because s/he stepped down from the position, everyone was relieved.’
b.

[[Ø yameta node]Adv minna hotto shita]Rel

[[ stepped.down because] everyone became.relieved]

‘[Lit.] the person such that because s/he stepped down from the position, every
became relieved.’

278
14.6 Extraction from relative clauses
Japanese also permits extraction of an NP from a RC. Consider the
following:
(16) a.
Kodomo ga shatsu o kite iru.

child NOM shirt ACC is.wearing

‘The child is wearing a shirt.’

In both English and Japanese, shatsu ‘shirt’ can be extracted from this
clause, e.g. (16b), and the resulting phrase can be embedded in a larger
clause, e.g. (16c):
b.

[kodomo ga Ø kite iru] shatsu

[child NOM is.wearing] shirt

‘the shirt that the child is wearing’

c.
[Kodomo ga Ø kite iru] shatsu ga yogorete iru

[child NOM is.wearing] shirt NOM is.dirty

‘The shirt that the child is wearing is dirty.’

English does not allow further extraction from the original RC, but
Japanese does:
d.

[[Ø Ø kite iru]1 shatsu ga yogorete iru]2 kodomo

[[ is.wearing] shirt NOM is.dirty] child

‘[Lit.] *The child that the shirt that s/he is wearing is dirty’

279
 ‘[Lit.] The child for whom/such that the shirt that he is wearing is
dirty.’

‘The child who is wearing a dirty shirt’

One explanation for this constraint on the English RC formation is that

extraction cannot cross more than one clause boundary, called the
SUBJACENCY CONDITION (Chomsky 1973). Here, in (16d), kodomo
‘child’ crosses two boundaries, hence ungrammaticality in English.
Japanese does not have such a constraint on extraction from RCs.
14.7 Questioning a constituent inside relative
clauses
Questions are of two types: YES–NO QUESTIONS and WH-QUESTIONS. In
Japanese, a Yes–No question is formed by adding the interrogative particle
ka at the end of the corresponding declarative sentence.
(17) a.
Ashita wa yasumi desu.

tomorrow TOP holiday COP

‘Tomorrow is a holiday.’
b.
Ashita wa yasumi desu ka?

tomorrow TOP holiday COP INT

‘Is tomorrow a holiday?’

In English, Wh-words are “moved” (metaphorically speaking) from their

original position (Ø) to clause initial position.
(18) a. Who/Whom did Joan invite Ø to the party?
b. What did she buy Ø?
c. Where did she go Ø?
d. When did she go there Ø?
e. How did she make the cake Ø?
In Japanese, interrogative words remain in their original position:
(19) a.
Jōn wa dare o shōtai shimashita ka?

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 TOP who ACC invited INT

‘[Lit.] Joan invited who?’

‘Who/Whom did Joan invite?’

b.
Kanojo wa nani o kaimashita ka?

she TOP what ACC bought INT

‘[Lit.] She bought what?’

‘What did she buy?’

c.
Kanojo wa doko ni ikimashita ka?

she TOP where to went INT

‘[Lit.] She went to where?’

‘Where did she go?’

d.
Kanojo wa itsu soko ni ikimashita ka?

she TOP when there to went INT

‘[Lit.] She went to there when?’

‘When did she go there?’

e.
Kanojo wa dō yatte kēki o tsukurimashita ka?

she TOP how cake ACC made INT

‘[Lit.] She made the cake how?’

‘How did she make the cake?’

Unlike English, Japanese permits constituents of a RC to be questioned.

281
Consider (20).
(20) a.
Ōno-kyōju ga kōhosha o suisen shita.

Professor Ono NOM candidate ACC recommended

‘Professor Ono recommended the candidate.’

b.
[Ōno-kyōju ga Ø suisen shita] kōhosha

[ NOM recommended] candidate

‘the candidate that Professor Ono recommended’

The recommender in (20b) can be queried:

c.
[Dare ga Ø suisen shita] kōhosha ga saiyō
saremashita

[who NOM recommended] candidate NOM was.hired

‘[Lit.] #The/A candidate that who recommended was hired?’ (Possible only
as an echo question.)

‘Whose candidate was hired?’

‘Who recommended the hired candidate?’

Like extraction from a RC discussed in Section 14.5 above, English does not
allow this type of questioning. However, if the focus of the query is shifted
slightly, it can be expressed in English:
d. Who recommended the candidate that was hired?
Note that (20d) requests the identification of the successful
recommender, but (20c) requests the identification of the successful
candidate in terms of his/her recommender. Therefore, the two sentences
may not be interchangeable.7 This type of question is very common in
Japanese as exemplified below.
(21) a.
[Ø nani- no fuku o kite iru] hito ga
iro

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 [ what- GEN clothes ACC is.wearing] person NOM
color

‘[Lit.] The person wearing what-color clothes do you like?’

b.
[Ø doko ni suwatte iru] hito o shitte iru no?

[ where in is.sitting] person ACC know SFP

‘[Lit.] The person sitting where do you know?’

14.8 Tense in relative clauses

This book refers to the ta-form as the past tense marker, and the ru-form as
the non-past tense marker, but, as discussed in Chapter 9, these tense
markers behave very differently than their English counterparts. Recall the
following sentence discussed in Section 9.5, repeated here as (22).
(22)
[Kanai no Ø ike-ta] hana ga ashita

[my.wife GEN arrange-PAST] flower NOM tomorrow

ni de-ru.

in enter-NPST

‘Flowers arranged by my wife will be displayed in tomorrow’s exhibition.’

The flowers had already been arranged at the speech time, or they would
be arranged after the speech time but before the exhibition. As this
example illustrates, the ta-form in a RC indicates that the event takes place
prior to the reference time, which may equate with the speech time
(rendering a past tense interpretation) or the time supplied by the main
clause. Similarly, in (23), the ru-form version indicates that the person had
not provided the funds as of the day before speech time, whereas the ta-
form version indicates that the funds had been provided prior to the
meeting.
(23)
[Ø shikin o dashite kureru/kureta] hito ni

[ fund ACC provide.TE give/gave] person with

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 ‘I met the person who [will provide/had provided] funds.’

In a RC, the ta-forms of certain predicates are normally interpreted as

resultative (see Section 9.7), referring to a state which resulted from a
preceding event, as exemplified in (24).
(24) a.
[Ø yaseta] hito

[ lose.weight.PAST] person

‘[Lit.] a person who has lost (his/her) weight’

‘a thin person’
b.
[Ø megane o kaketa] hito

[ eye.glass ACC put.on.PAST] person

‘[Lit.] a person who has put on eyeglasses’

‘a person wearing eyeglasses’

When the predicate in a RC is stative (Section 9.2) rather than dynamic,

the ta-form cannot be employed if the state of affairs continues to exist at
the reference time:
(25) a.
[Ø se ga/no takai/*takakatta] hito ni michi

[ height NOM/GEN is.high/*was.high person by way

‘[Lit.] I was asked by a person who is/was tall how to get (to a certain place).’
b.
[Ø betonamugo ga/no hanaseru/*hanaseta] hito

[ Vietnamese NOM/GEN can.speak/*could.speak] person

‘I looked for a person who can/could speak Vietnamese.’

In (25a), the person was tall when s/he asked the speaker about a route
(i.e. the reference time); therefore, takai but not takakatta must be

284
selected. Takakatta here would indicate that the person used to be tall, but
no longer was at the reference time. Likewise, in (25b), hanaseta would
indicate that the speaker is looking for a person who was once able to
speak Vietnamese, but not any longer – an odd situation.
The progressive form provides a different interpretation from pure
stative verbs exemplified in (25).
(26) a.
Nami wa [Ø IBM ni tsutomete iru/tsutomete hito
ita]

TOP [ at is.working/was.working] person

with

kekkon shita.

married

‘Nami married a person who was working/used to work for IBM.’

In (26a), tsutomete iru hito indicates that the bridegroom was working
for IBM when they married, but tsutomete ita hito indicates that he had
worked for IBM but had left the company before the marriage. (In the
former, whether or not he was still working for IBM at the speech time
cannot be determined from the utterance.)
However, the tense in a RC is not always completely relative to the time
of the main clause. If a temporal adverbial phrase that refers to a past time
occurs inside the RC, -te iru cannot be used:
b.
Nami wa [Ø kyonen IBM ni *tsutometeiru/tsutomete
ita]

TOP [ last.year at *is.working/was.working]

‘Nami married a person who was working for IBM last year.’

By contrast, in (27a), yonde ita and yonde iru are interchangeable,

although the former can also mean that Nami confiscated the book that the
child used to read:
(27) a.
Nami wa [kodomo ga/no Ø yonde iru/yonde ita]

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 TOP [child NOM/GEN is.reading/was.reading]

‘Nami took the book that the child was reading away from the child.’

Josephs (1972: 113–14) analyzes the difference between -te iru and -te
ita in such a way that, while -te iru simply describes the action in progress
at the time of the main-clause action, -te ita implies that the speaker has
paid attention to or has at least been aware of the RC action for some time
prior to the main-clause action taking place. The difference is very subtle.
Here is Josephs’ original example and his translations:
b.
Watakushi wa densha no naka de [Ø kasa o

I TOP train GEN inside in [ umbrella ACC

motte iru/motte ita] hito ni hanashikaketa.

is.carrying/was.carrying] person to accosted

‘In the train, I struck up a conversation with a man [who happened to be

carrying/who I (had) noticed was carrying] an umbrella.’

Kuno (1973: 268) supports Josephs by providing (27c):

c.
Densha ni tobinoru to, [Ø kasa o motte iru/??motte ita]

train to jump.into when [ umbrella ACC is.carrying/was.carrying

hito ga hanashikakete kita

person NOM accosted.TE came

‘When I jumped onto a train, a person who was carrying an umbrella started talking
to me.’

The connective to in (27c) marks a temporal subordinate clause and

indicates that immediately after the subordinate-clause event occurs, the
speaker recognizes the main-clause event (see Subsection 16.2.6). This
construction is compatible with -te iru, but it contradicts -te ita because, as
Josephs claims, it describes a temporal sequence in which a new situation
arises. Because -te ita necessarily implies that the speaker has paid

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attention for some time to some situation, the person carrying an umbrella
in this case, it is incompatible.
14.9 Noun complementation
Certain nouns require some kind of modification or supplementation.
Consider tendency for example. There is a tendency does not in itself
sound complete; it requires a phrase like for people to eat too fast to
describe what is referred to by tendency. Such semantically necessary
modifiers are called NOUN COMPLEMENTS. Noun complements in
Japanese are commonly marked with to iu ‘saying that’ as exemplified
below:
(28) a.
[Takamine-san ga yūshō shita] to iu shirase

[ NOM won] that message

‘the message that Takamine won the championship’

b.
[kaisha ga tōsan shita] to iu jijitsu

[company NOM went.bankrupt] that fact

‘the fact that the company has gone bankrupt’

Some noun complements do not require to iu and thus have the

appearance of a RC. The following examples are derived from Teramura
(1984: 207–08):
(29) a.
Watashi ni wa [hatsugen shikaku ga nai
suru]

I in TOP [voice] qualification NOM not.exist

‘[Lit.] I don’t have qualifications for voicing (my thoughts).’

‘I’m not qualified to speak.’

b.
[Raigetsu made kono shigoto o shiageru] yotei
ni

[next.month by this project ACC complete] plan

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 ‘I plan to complete this project by next month.’
c.
[100-man en o damashi utagai de taiho-
totta] sareta.

[one.million yen ACC defraud] charge for was.arrested

‘(S/he) was arrested on the charge of defrauding (the person) one

million yen.’

The same nouns can be modified by a RC as shown in (30).

(30) a.
[Watashi ga 2-nen kakete Ø totta] shikaku

[I NOM 2-years spending obtained] qualification

kachi ga nakatta.

value NOM not.existed

‘[Lit.] The qualification I obtained by spending two years was useless.’

‘The qualification I spent two years to obtain was useless.’

b.
[Takamine-san ga Ø tateta] yotei o ginmi shita.

[ NOM made] plan ACC scrutinized

‘(I) scrutinized the plan that Takamine made.’

c.
Kare wa kurō shite [Ø kakerareta] utagai o

he TOP having.trouble [ was.imposed] charge ACC

‘[Lit.] Undergoing hardships, he cleared the charge that was imposed (on him).

‘He cleared the charge (on himself) but with great difficulty.’

There are clear examples of noun modification and noun

288
complementation functioning as opposing constructions. However, there
are also numerous cases that resist unequivocal categorization. Thus, noun
modification and complementation are considered to form a cline (a scale
of continuous gradation) rather than a dichotomy.
1 When a location/goal NP becomes the head, the post-positional particle
attached to it is obligatorily deleted. Therefore, (6b) is potentially
ambiguous between the readings ‘the town to which I came’ and ‘the town
from which I came’ although the goal interpretation (the former) is much
more prevalent.
2 The old attributive forms of i-adjectives are still in use in poetic
expressions.
3 It has been reported that the following languages have internally headed
RCs: Diegueño (spoken by native Americans in the southwestern US and
northwest Mexico), Korean, Lakota (North and South Dakota), Navajo
(the southwestern US), Quechua (the central Andes), and Wappo (northern
California) (Ohara 1996: 27–31).
4 The status of no in this construction is controversial. Although I label it
nominalizer, it can be analyzed as a pronoun head like one in English the
one (that) I ate.
5 Japanese does not make a formal distinction between restrictive and
non-restrictive RCs. However, demonstratives can co-occur with a non-
restrictive relative clause but not with a restrictive one: e.g. kinben na
nihonjin ‘the diligent Japanese’ (ambiguous) vs. sorera no kinben na
nihonjin ‘those Japanese, who are diligent’ (the non-restrictive reading
only).
6 For detailed discussion of the gapless RC, see Matsumoto (1988).
7 See Hasegawa (1989) for further discussion.

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 15 Nominalization
15.1 Introduction
One of the defining characteristics of a noun (strictly speaking, a noun
phrase, NP, rather than a bare noun) is its ability to serve as either the
subject or the object of a clause (see the discussion in Subsection 5.2.1).
(1) a. The news brought much needed optimism to dejected Japanese
people. [NP subject]
b. I saw a car accident. [NP object]
However, it is sometimes necessary to use a clause as a subject or an
object as exemplified in (2).
(2) a. That abundant reservoirs of methane hydrate exist in the seabed
surrounding the Japanese archipelago brought much needed
optimism to dejected Japanese people. [clause subject]
b. I saw a car hit a pedestrian. [clause object]
In Japanese, clauses that function as nouns or NPs are formed by
attaching the FORMAL NOUN koto ‘fact, thing’ (koto is designated
“formal” because, while it is a noun, it does not identify a specific class of
referents, unlike nouns like person, desk, apple, etc.) or the particle no.
This process is called NOMINALIZATION, and koto and no are referred to
as NOMINALIZERS or COMPLEMENTIZERS.
(3) a.
Nihon kinkai no kaitei ni bōdai na ryō

Japan coastal water GEN seabed in abundant amount

metan haidorēto ga maizō sarete iru koto wa shitsui no

methane hydrate NOM is buried NMLZ TOP dejected

nihon kokumin ni nagaku machi akarusa o

nozomareta

Japan people to long expected cheerfulness ACC

‘That an abundant amount of methane hydrate is buried in the seabed of Japanes

coastal waters brought long-awaited optimism to the dejected Japanese people.’

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 b. Watashi wa kuruma ga hokōsha o haneru no

I TOP car NOM pedestrian ACC hit NMLZ

‘I saw a car hit a pedestrian.’

Some predicates take only koto as their nominalizer, others take no, and
still others take both. This chapter examines the conditions and constraints
on nominalization.
15.2 No vs. koto
No is used to reference a concrete situation (i.e. action, event, or state)
perceivable by the five senses, whereas koto pertains to situations that
involve abstract cognition (Kuno 1973: 220–21):
(4) a.
Watashi wa Chiyoko ga piano o hiku [no/*koto]

I TOP NOM piano ACC play NMLZ

‘I saw Chiyoko playing the piano.’

b.
Watashi wa Chiyoko ga piano o hiku [no/koto] o kiita

NMLZ heard

‘I heard [Chiyoko playing/that Chiyoko plays] the piano.’

In (4a), only no is possible. In (4b), on the other hand, both no and koto
can be used, but they depict different scenes. With no, the speaker actually
heard Chiyoko playing the piano, but with koto, the speaker heard from
someone that Chiyoko is able to play the piano. This difference can be
accounted for by the perception vs. cognition distinction mentioned above.
However, for some non-perception predicates, no serves as the sole
nominalizer:
(5) a.
Watashi wa Chiyoko ga piano o hiku [no/*koto] o

‘I took a photo of Chiyoko playing the piano.’

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 b.
Watashi wa Chiyoko ga piano o hiki-owaru [no/*koto]

finish.playing

‘I waited for Chiyoko to finish playing the piano.’

Hashimoto (1990) characterizes no as a nominalizer of simultaneity.

That is, the nominalized situation and the main-clause situation must occur
simultaneously. A prototypical case is perception. On the other hand, koto
indicates that the nominalized situation is detached in time from the main-
clause situation. These characteristics are illustrated in (6), derived from
Noda (1995: 427):
(6) a.
Chichi wa niwa no kaki ga minotta

father TOP garden GEN persimmon NOM bore.fruits

‘(My) father was delighted (to see) that the persimmon (tree) in the garden bore
b.
Chichi wa ima made no kurō ga minotta

father TOP now until GEN hardship NOM bore.fruits

‘(My) father was delighted that all (his) hard work bore fruit.’

In (6a), when no is used, the speaker is depicting his/her father’s delight

in watching the persimmon tree bear fruit, i.e. the two situations co-occur.
On the other hand, when koto is used, the father is no longer watching the
scene, but probably hearing from someone the fact about the persimmon
tree fruit. That is, the two situations are separated in time. In (6b), the
father’s accomplishments occurred prior to his contentment.
This co-temporality, or lack thereof, can predict to a considerable extent
whether a given predicate takes no or koto, although there are many
unpredictable idiosyncrasies such as those included in the following list,
based on Kudo (1985):
(7) Predicates that take no exclusively
kenbutsu suru ‘view’, kikoeru ‘be audible’, kiku ‘hear (perception)’,
matsu ‘wait’, mieru ‘be visible’, mimamoru ‘watch’, miru ‘see’,

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 nagameru ‘look on’, naoru/naosu ‘repair’, saegiru ‘interrupt’, tasukeru
‘help’, tetsudau ‘help’, tomaru/tomeru ‘stop’
(8) Predicates that take koto exclusively
a. Thinking (cognitive) verbs
kangaeru ‘consider’, omou ‘think’, rikai suru ‘understand’, satoru
‘realize’, shinjiru ‘believe’, utagau ‘doubt’
b.Communication verbs
hanasu ‘talk’, iu ‘say’, kaku ‘write’, kiku ‘hear (hearsay)’, shiraseru
‘notify’, tsutaeru ‘communicate’, yomu ‘read’
c. Directive verbs
kinjiru ‘prohibit’, meijiru ‘command’, nozomu ‘desire’, kimeru
‘decide’, yakusoku suru ‘promise’, yurusu ‘permit’
d.Indicating verbs
honomekasu ‘imply’, sasu ‘point to’, shimesu ‘indicate’, shiteki suru
‘point out’, shōmei suru ‘prove’
(9) Predicates that take both no and koto
a. Cognitive verbs
hakken suru ‘discover’, oboeru ‘memorize’, omoidasu ‘recall’, shiru
‘find out’, wakaru ‘understand’
b.Attitude verbs
akirameru ‘give up’, kanashimu ‘feel sad’, kitai suru ‘expect’,
odoroku ‘be surprised’, sansei suru ‘approve’, yorokobu ‘rejoice’
c. Miscellaneous
fusegu ‘protect’, sakeru ‘avoid’, yameru ‘quit’, yosu ‘quit’
15.3 No/koto vs. to
Another grammatical construction which resembles nominalization is that
involving the QUOTATIVE PARTICLE to. (This topic will be discussed
further in Chapter 27). To and koto o are frequently interchangeable, as
shown in (10). Note that to can be categorized as a complementizer (i.e.
forming a complement clause), but not a nominalizer (forming an NP);
therefore, the accusative particle o, which attaches only to NPs, does not
follow to.
(10) a.
Midori wa chikyū ga 6,000 nen mae tanjō
ni shita

TOP earth NOM year ago was.born

293
 ‘[Lit.] Midori believes that the earth was born 6,000 years ago.’

‘Midori believes that the earth is 6,000 years old.’

b.
Midori wa tsukaikomi o shita [koto o/to] kokuhaku shita

TOP embezzlement ACC did confessed

‘Midori confessed that (she) committed embezzlement.’

In (10), both koto o and to depict the same situation, but the selection of
koto o reveals the speaker’s PRESUPPOSITION that the content of the
embedded clause is true.1 This is the reason why the use of koto o in (10a)
sounds odd, for it is a generally accepted fact that the earth came into
being much earlier than 6,000 years ago. To, on the other hand, does not
convey such a presupposition; the speaker might or might not believe the
truth of the embedded content. Regarding (10b), because the legitimacy of
the claim that Midori committed embezzlement remains unknown, both
koto o and to sound conceivable. Nevertheless, there is a difference
regarding the speaker’s presuppositions which should be recognized.
This phenomenon of revealing presupposition is discussed in linguistics
in terms of FACTIVITY. Compare the following structurally identical
sentences:
(11) a. George Price believes that the earth is 6,000 years old.
b. George Price knows that the earth is 6,000 years old.
In (11a), the speaker is merely reporting Price’s belief; however, (11b)
implies that the speaker also believes that the earth is 6,000 years old. The
difference is due to the selection of the predicates. Those that encode the
speaker’s presupposition that the given content is true are called FACTIVE
PREDICATES, and those that do not are NON-FACTIVE PREDICATES
(Kiparsky and Kiparsky 1970).2
(12) a. Factive predicates
be significant, be exciting, bother, make clear, make sense, suffice,
be aware (of), deplore, forget (about), ignore, keep in mind, regret,
resent, take into consideration
b.Non-factive predicates
be possible, be likely, be true, happen, seem, turn out, allege,
assert, believe, charge, conclude, conjecture, deem, maintain,

294
 suppose
English provides various means to covertly express factivity. For
example, only factive predicates can take as their objects the noun fact
with a gerund or that-clause (Kiparsky and Kiparsky 1970).
(13) Factive predicates
a. You have to keep in mind the fact of his having proposed several
alternatives.
b. I want to make clear the fact that I don’t intend to participate.
(14) Non-factive predicates
a. *We may conclude the fact of his having proposed several
alternatives.
b. *I assert the fact that I don’t intend to participate.
For another example, the grammatical construction called
EXTRAPOSITION (It … that …) is optional for factive predicates, but it is
obligatory for non-factive predicates:
(15) Factive predicate
a. That there are porcupines in our basement makes sense to me.
b. It makes sense to me that there are porcupines in our basement.
(16) Non-factive predicate
a. *That there are porcupines in our basement seems to me.
b. It seems that there are porcupines in our basement.
In Japanese, factivity is encoded not only in predicate selection, but also
in complementizer selection. Shinjiru ‘believe’ and kokuhaku suru
‘confess’ in (10) are non-factive. With such predicates, the embedded
content is normally expressed with non-factive to, and can optionally be
expressed with factive no or koto. When, on the other hand, the predicate
is categorized as factive, the use of to is prohibited, as illustrated in (17).
(17) a.
Midori wa jikan ga sugite iru [no o/koto o/*to] mushi shita

TOP time NOM has.passed ignored

‘Midori ignored the fact that the time has (already) passed.’
b.
Midori wa tsukaikomi o shita [no o/koto o/*to]

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 TOP embezzlement ACC did NMLZ/QUOT ACC

‘Midori regretted that (she) committed embezzlement.’

c.
Midori wa Shigeru ni tegami o dashita [no
o/koto
o/*to]

TOP to letter ACC sent

‘Midori forgot that she had sent a letter to Shigeru.’

15.4 The n(o) + copula construction

The construction consisting of no (or its abbreviated form n) followed by
the copula (da, desu, datta, deshita; see Subsection 5.2.2) ‘it is the case
that ~’ frequently appears in Japanese discourse. This section discusses
several functions of this construction.
15.4.1 External negation
In English, the sentence He isn’t promoted because he is kind to his staff is
ambiguous between interpretations involving internal and external
negation: (i) because he is kind to his staff, he is not promoted (INTERNAL
NEGATION, negating only is promoted); (ii) it is not the case that he is
promoted because he is kind to his staff, or the reason why he is promoted
is not that he is kind to his staff (EXTERNAL NEGATION).
(18) a. [[He is promoted]-NOT [because he is kind to his staff]]
b. [[He is promoted] [because he is kind to his staff]]-NOT

In Japanese, placing a cause or reason clause (Chapter 17) after the main
clause is impossible. Instead, the idea is typically expressed by the
construction appearing in (19a). Note that when the order of the main and
subordinate clauses changes in English, the ambiguity disappears.
(19) a.
Kare wa buka ni shinsetsu da kara shōshin

he TOP staff to kind is because promotion

‘Because he is kind to (his) staff, he is not promoted.’

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 In order to express external negation in Japanese, nominalization of the
two clauses by means of n(o) + copula is required (Hasegawa 1996a: 43).
No de wa nai in (19b) is the negation of no da.
b.
Kare wa buka ni shinsetsu da kara shōshin shita

he TOP staff to kind is because promotion did

wa nai.

NEG-SCP not

‘[Lit.] It is not the case that he is promoted because he is kind to (his) staff.’

‘He was promoted not because he is kind to (his) staff.’

Another example of external negation, taken from Noda (1997: 35), is

provided in (19c), where n ja nai is an abbreviated form of no de wa nai
(see Section 6.4). This sentence does not negate the speaker’s crying, but,
rather, his/her reason for crying:
c.
Kanashiku- naite iru n ja nai. Ureshiku-te naite iru
te

be.sad-TE is.crying NMLZ TOP.COP not be.happy-TE is.crying

‘[Lit.] It is not the case that (I’m) crying because (I’m) sad; it is the case that (I’m) c
(I’m) happy.’

‘(I’m) not crying because (I’m sad). (I’m) crying because (I’m) happy.’

15.4.2 Metalinguistic negation

Another context in which the n(o) da construction plays a significant role
is METALINGUISTIC NEGATION, characterized by Horn (1985) and
exemplified by (20):
(20) a. Lauren Bacall’s TV commercial for High Point decaffeinated
coffee
Around here, we don’t like coffee – we love it!
b. Max doesn’t have three children – he has four.

297
 In (20a), what is negated is the word choice of like, not the speaker’s
fondness of coffee, as like normally indicates a lesser degree of fondness
than love. The utterance conveys, I wouldn’t say I like coffee; rather, I’d
say I love it. In (20b), if Max has four children, it is true that he has three.
However, Max has three children normally implies that he has no more
than three, an implication that does not strictly follow logical inference but
which is common in conversation.3 This sentence negates the “illogical”
but common implication concerning the upper boundary. In these cases,
what is negated is not the linguistic constituent to which not is attached. I
don’t like coffee normally means that the speaker does not like coffee; Max
doesn’t have three children normally means that he has two, one, or no
children. Rather, the negation takes place at a meta level of language use,
i.e. at a level appropriate for the formation or selection of certain linguistic
expressions. Hence, the label metalinguistic negation is applied.
In Japanese, metalinguistic negation must employ the n(o) da
construction.4
(21) a.
#Watashi-tachi wa kōhī ga suki de wa arimasen

we TOP coffee NOM like COP TOP not

Kōhī o aishite iru no desu.

coffee ACC love NMLZ COP.NPST

‘We don’t like coffee. The fact is that (we) love coffee.’
b.
Watashi- wa kōhī ga suki na no de wa
tachi

we TOP coffee NOM like COP NMLZ COP NEG-

SCP

Kōhī o aishite iru no desu.

coffee ACC love NMLZ COP.NPST

‘It is not the case that we like coffee. The fact is that (we) love coffee.’

(22)

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 a. #Makkusu wa kodomo ga 3-nin imasen. 4-nin

Max TOP child NOM 3- not.exist 4-

persons persons

‘Max doesn’t have three children. The fact is that (he) has four.’
b.
Makkusu wa kodomo ga 3-nin iru no de

Max TOP child NOM 3-persons exist NMLZ COP

4-nin iru no desu.

4-persons exist NMLZ COP.NPST

‘It is not the case that Max has three children. The fact is that (he) has four.’

15.4.3 N(o) da as a nominal predication

Compare the two sentences in (23) that depict an identical scene.
(23) a.
Kōji genba no ashiba ga kuzureta.

construction site GEN scaffolding NOM collapsed

‘The scaffolding on the construction site collapsed.’

b.
Kōji genba no ashiba ga kuzureta no da.

NMLZ COP.NPST

‘It is the case that the scaffolding on the construction site

collapsed.’

(23a) is an ordinary event-reporting sentence, whereas (23b) presents the

event in terms of nominalization. The semantic difference between the two
may be intuitive for native speakers of Japanese, but it is very difficult to
articulate precisely.
Langacker (1987) explains that these constructions reflect two modes of
cognitive processing that apply to the conceptualization of a complex

299
scene. A verb is a symbolic expression of a PROCESS (i.e. a situation that
changes over time), which can be represented as a series of schematic
conceptions of states aligned in time (which he terms SEQUENTIAL
SCANNING). Figure 15.1 demonstrates such a cognitive process regarding
an object falling onto a flat surface. In this diagram, the circle indicates the
falling object, the rectangular shape the flat surface, and the arrows the
flow of time. The dotted lines indicate that the items are the same from one
state to the next.

Figure 15.1. Sequential scanning.

Humans are also capable of conceptualizing a complex array of
cognitive events simultaneously as a coherent GESTALT (i.e. a structure of
a physical or psychological phenomenon so integrated as to constitute a
unit not derivable by summation of its parts). This type of
conceptualization, which Langacker calls SUMMARY SCANNING, is
expressed by nominalization, graphically represented in Figure 15.2.

Figure 15.2. Summary scanning.

To provide an analogy, the first type (Figure 15.1) can be likened to a
motion picture, the second type (Figure 15.2) to a long-exposure
photograph. Note that in the first type, time is involved both in the
depicted situation (e.g. the falling event in the real world) and when it is
conceptualized in the speaker’s mind and expressed as a sentence like
(23a). Contrastively, in the second type, time is relevant in the depicted
situation, but not in cognitive processing.5 In this respect, nominalized
expressions are static and, therefore, resemble nouns.
15.4.4 N(o) da to supply background information
What does this insight into nominalization tell us about how (23a) and
(23b) differ? As an atemporal expression, the n(o) da construction cannot
be used to advance a NARRATIVE (i.e. a retelling of what happened,

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normally in chronological order). A narrative characteristically consists of
foreground and background information (see Section 9.6). The foreground
consists of events sequentially arranged to form the primary story line,
whereas the background is everything else, including descriptions of
involved entities or scenes and knowledge prerequisite to comprehending
the given narrative. For example, (23b) cannot appear as part of the story
line as in (24), but can supply background information as in (25):
(24)
Totsuzen gō to oto ga shite, jimen ga yure dashita
iu

suddenly roaring sound NOM do-TE ground NOM started.shaking

Me no mae de kōji genba no ashiba

eye GEN front at construction site GEN scaffolding

[kuzureta/#kuzureta no da]. Watashi wa tetsu-paipu

[collapsed/collapsed-NMLZ-COP.NPST] I TOP steel-pipe

nadare ni makikomare sō ni natta

avalanche to be.caught as.if to became

‘Suddenly, there was a roaring sound. In front of (my) eyes, the scaffolding on
the construction site collapsed. I was almost caught in the avalanche of steel
pipes.’
(25)
Bakuhatsu no yō gōon ni Chiyoko wa gyotto shite
na

explosion GEN like roar.sound to TOP be.astonished-

furikaetta. Kōji genba no ashiba

looked.back construction site GEN scaffolding

[kuzureta/kuzureta no da].

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 collapsed/collapsed-NMLZ-COP.NPST

‘Chiyoko was astonished by a blast-like roar, and looked back. [The scaffolding
on the construction site collapsed/It was the collapse of the scaffolding on the
construction site].’

In (25), if the non-nominalized kuzureta is used, the collapsing event is

understood as taking place after Chiyoko looked back. On the other hand,
if the nominalized version kuzureta no da is used, the collapse of the
scaffolding is explained as, or is understood to be, the cause of the blast-
like sound.
15.4.5 N(o) da and the expression of spontaneity
When expressing one’s future action, Section 8.9 noted that the English
expression be going to ~ can be used only if the action is pre-planned
while will must be selected if the action is determined spontaneously at the
time of the utterance. Such spontaneity can be expressed in Japanese by
ga, as was also discussed, and exemplified in (26).
(26) To the professor who forgot to bring a video projector:
Watashi [ga/#wa] motte-kimasu.

I [NOM/TOP] carry-come

‘I’ll go get it.’

Watashi wa motte-kimasu ‘I’m going to bring it’ is appropriate when

responding to the question below, in which case the use of ga is
inappropriate.
(27)
Minna obentō o motte- n desu ka.
kuru

everyone box.lunch ACC carry- NMLZ COP.NPST INT

come

‘[Lit.] Is it the case that everyone will bring a box lunch?’

‘Will everyone bring a box lunch?’

Like wa, n(o) da is also unable to express spontaneity. In (28), n(o) da

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cannot be used:
(28)
Watashi ga [motte-kimasu/#motte-kuru n desu].

I NOM [carry-come]

‘I’ll go get it.’

This inability of n(o) da can be accounted for by Langacker’s

conceptualization of nominalization as depicting a cognitive event as an
atemporal gestalt, and not as a time-bound phenomenon.
1 Many students are often confused about whose presupposition is
implied by koto. It is that of the speaker, not of the subject referent –
Midori in this case. Midori believes the embedded content, but this state of
affairs is asserted by the verb shinjite iru ‘believe’, not implied by the
nominalizer.
2 To examine factivity, the complement must be verifiable, i.e. referring
to a past or present situation. If the complement refers to a future situation,
the speaker’s presupposition of its factivity is deemed immaterial.
3 This “illogical” but nonetheless common interpretation is accounted for
in linguistics as the speaker’s observation of a MAXIM OF QUANTITY (i.e.
one makes one’s contribution as informative as is required for the purposes
of the exchange, and one does not make one’s contribution more
informative than is required) in the GRICEAN THEORY OF
IMPLICATURE. Refer to any pragmatics textbook for further information
about Gricean Theory.
4 For further discussion of the scope of negation in Japanese, see
Masuoka (1991).
5 Langacker (1987: 262) convincingly argues for these two distinct
notions of time. The antithesis of nominalization involves describing a
static scene in such a way as this: This road is winding through the
mountains. Here, in characterizing the road as winding, the speaker
mentally compares various parts of the path one at a time as if s/he is
driving along the road. In this case, the notion of time is not involved in
the depicted situation, but it is involved in cognition – just opposed to
nominalization.
(Figures 15.1 and 15.2 from Ronald W. Langacker, © 1987, by the Board
of Trustees of the Leland Stanford Jr. University. All rights reserved. With
the permission of Stanford University Press, www.sup.org.)

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Part V Clause linkage

304
 16 Temporal clauses
16.1 Introduction
Section 9.4 discusses the notion of taxis, which concerns the chronological
relationship between a pair of situations (i.e. events, actions, and states),
and this chapter considers how taxis is manifested in Japanese. The two
situations in question are encoded as two clauses and arranged in a
sentence with various connectives appearing between them. Such
connected clauses will be schematically represented as P and Q, where
clause P precedes clause Q in a sentence. In Japanese, subordinate clauses
always precede the main clause; therefore, P is invariably a subordinate
clause, whereas Q is a main clause. The following three temporal
relationships will be explored in this chapter.
(1) a. After P, Q.
b.Before P, Q.
c. While P, Q.
Because its clause order is iconic with the event order, (1a) is easier to
comprehend than (1b), in which the clause order reverses the event order.
Consequently, more patterns are available to express (1a).
The two connected situations referred to by P and Q will be represented
as P′ and Q′, respectively. Be sure to keep in mind that P and Q are
linguistic objects, whereas P′ and Q′ stand for the situations to which they
refer.
(2) a.
P′ ≺ Q′ P′ precedes Q′.
b.
Q′ ≺ P′ Q′ precedes P′; P′ follows Q′.
c.
P′ ≈ Q′ P′ and Q′ occur simultaneously or overlap.

Although the ta-form is labeled as the marker of the past tense and the
ru-form as the non-past tense, tense marking occurs only in the main
clause; the ta- and ru-forms do not mark tense per se in temporal
subordinate clauses.
16.2 P′ ≺ Q′
16.2.1 P-te Q

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The P′ ≺ Q′ sequence is frequently expressed with P in the te-form (see
Section 6.1), especially when the subjects of P and Q are identical as in
(3a).
(3) a.
Watashi wa kinō kaimono o shi-te eiga o

I TOP yesterday shopping ACC do-TE movie ACC

‘Yesterday, I went shopping and saw a movie.’

b.
Taifū ga ki-te, hashi ga nagasareta.

typhoon NOM come-TE bridge NOM was.washed.away

‘A typhoon came, and the bridge was washed away.’

Note that, like the English conjunction and, this pattern does not
explicitly assert a temporal sequence, but merely implies it by virtue of its
iconic clause order.1 Nevertheless, in actual communication, merely
implying a sequence is often sufficient, and sometimes an explicit mention
of the sequence might even sound like excess verbiage – hence,
widespread use of the “P-te Q” pattern.
It is, however, important to recognize that “P-te Q” cannot express a
pure (i.e. merely incidental) temporal sequence such as exemplified in (4).
(4) a.
#Maki ga mado o ake-te, doa no beru

NOM window ACC open-TE door GEN bell

‘Maki opened the window, and the doorbell chimed.’

b.
#Watashi ga kaijō ni tsui-te, kōen ga

I NOM meeting.place at arrive-TE lecture NOM

‘I arrived at the meeting place, and the lecture began.’

In order for “P-te Q” to imply a temporal sequence, some conceivable

connection beyond a mere temporal alignment between the two situations

306
must exist: for example, the speaker’s recognition of the event sequence as
a series of planned action as in (3a), or his/her recognition of a causal
relationship between the stated events as in (3b) (see Chapter 6 of
Hasegawa 1996a for further discussion).
16.2.2 P-te kara Q
Unlike “P-te Q,” the verb te-form followed by the particle kara ‘from’
explicitly denotes a temporal sequence; therefore, it can be used to express
sequences of events lacking any causal or other relationship(s), including
those prohibited in (4).
(5) a.
Maki ga mado o ake-te kara, doa no beru

NOM window ACC open-TE.after door GEN bell

‘After Maki opened the window, the doorbell chimed.’

b.
Watashi ga kaijō ni tsui-te kara, kōen ga

I NOM meeting.place at arrive-TE.after lecture NOM

‘After I arrived at the meeting place, the lecture began.’

16.2.3 P-ta ato (de) Q

The P′ ≺ Q′ sequence can also be expressed with the pattern wherein P is
in the ta-form, followed by the connective ato ‘behind’ or ato de ‘[Lit.] at
behind’.
(6) a.
Kono jitensha wa, kata ato totemo. kōkai
(de) shita.

this bicycle TOP buy.PAST after very regretted

‘[Lit.] Speaking of this bicycle, I regretted it a lot after buying

(it).’
b.
Itsu mo tabeta ato (de) ha o migaku.

always eat.PAST after tooth ACC polish

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 ‘(I) always brush (my) teeth after eating.’

“P-ta ato (de) Q” is often interchangeable with “P-te kara Q.” Martin
(1962: 156) argues, however, that while both patterns indicate P′ ≺ Q′, -te
kara emphasizes immediate sequentiality. By contrast, -ta ato (de) simply
indicates that Q′ occurs any time after P′. Therefore, -ta ato (de) is
anomalous in (7), in which the time is counted beginning immediately
after P′.
(7)
Daigaku o sotsugyō [shite 10- tachimashita.
kara/#shita nen
ato de],

college ACC graduation [after.doing] 10- passed

years

‘Ten years have passed since (I) graduated from college.’

Kuno (1973: 161) provides the following example to support Martin’s

analysis:
(8) a.
Roku-ji ni Biru to atte kara shichi- ni eiga
ji

6- at Bill with after.meeting 7- at movie

o’clock o’clock

‘After meeting with Bill at six o’clock, (I) went to see a movie at seven.’
b.
#Roku-ji ni Biru to wakarete kara shichi-ji ni eiga o mi ni itta.

after.parting

‘After parting with Bill at six o’clock, (I) went to see a movie at seven.’

(8a) sounds natural because it suggests that the meeting lasted for one
hour, and that the speaker went to see a movie immediately afterward. By
contrast, (8b) sounds anomalous due to the one-hour gap between the
speaker parting with Bill and going to see the movie, thus supporting
Martin’s analysis.

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 However, Kuno also points out that the notion of immediate
sequentiality cannot account for many objectionable cases, as shown in the
examples in (9).
(9) a.
Jon ga gohan o [#tabete Marī ga yatte
kara/tabeta kita.
ato de],

NOM meal ACC [after.eating] NOM arrived

‘After John had eaten, Mary arrived.’

b.
Jon wa sensō ga [#owatte kara/owatta ato shinda.
de]

TOP war NOM [after.ending] died

‘After the war had ended, John died.’

Kuno contends that “P-te kara Q” implies that the immediate timing of
P′ and Q′ is planned by the subject referent of Q. In (9a) and (9b), it is
unlikely that Mary and John, respectively, controlled the timing of Q′, thus
resulting in anomaly. On the other hand, “P-ta ato de Q” does not carry
such a controllability connotation and can thus be used appropriately in
those examples.
Adachi (1995) amends Kuno’s analysis by considering cases in which,
contrary to Kuno, Q represents an event that is uncontrollable by its
subject referent, as in (10).
(10)
Uchi o dete sukoshi aruite kara kuchibeni o

house ACC leave.TE a.little after.walking lipstick ACC

tsuke-wasureta koto ni ki ga tsuita.

wear-forgot NMLZ to realized

‘After leaving (my) house and walking for a while, (I) realized that I
had forgotten to put on lipstick.’

309
 Adachi, who does not consider -te kara in (9) to be anomalous, asserts
that while -ta ato de contrasts with -ru mae ni ‘before’ as in (11), -te kara
contrasts with made ‘until’ combined with negation of Q, the construction
that conveys Q′ not occurring until P′ has occurred, as illustrated in (12).
(11) a.
Jon ga gohan o tabeta ato Marī ga yatte
de, kita.

NOM meal ACC after.eating NOM arrived

‘After John had eaten, Mary arrived.’

b.
Jon ga gohan o taberu mae Marī ga yatte
ni, kita.

NOM meal ACC before.eating NOM arrived

‘Before John had eaten, Mary arrived.’

(12) a.
Jon ga gohan o tabete kara, Marī ga yatte kita

NOM meal ACC after.eating NOM arrived

‘After John had eaten, Mary arrived.’

b.
Jon ga gohan o taberu Marī wa yatte
made, konakatta

NOM meal ACC until.eating TOP did.not.arrive

‘Until John had eaten, Mary did not arrive.’

Thus, (10) imparts the nuance that the speaker had forgotten to apply
lipstick until she had walked away from home. When such a suspended
condition is to be emphasized, the use of -te kara is justified even when Q
refers to an uncontrollable event.
16.2.4 P-ta ato ni Q
Instead of the location particle de ‘at’, another location particle ni ‘in’ can

310
follow ato ‘behind’. Comparing such sentences as in (13), Kuno (1973:
164–65) argues that the use of ato ni is appropriate only when Q′ fills the
conceptual “vacuum” created by P′ as exemplified in (13a).
(13) a.
Jon ga kaetta [ato de/ato Marī ga yatte
ni], kita.

NOM leave.PAST [after] NOM arrived

‘After John left, Mary arrived.’

In contrast, in (13b), because Mary’s leaving the place does not fill the
“vacuum” resulting from John’s having left the place, the use of ato ni is
unacceptable.
b.
Jon ga kaetta [ato de/#ato ni], Marī ga kaetta.

NOM leave.PAST [after] NOM leave

‘After John left, Mary left.’

However, contrary to Kuno’s analysis, creation and fulfillment of a

“vacuum” is not mandatory. As demonstrated in (14), if P indicates a
termination of some sort, ato ni is normally acceptable:
(14) a.
Zankin no shiharai ga sunda [ato teitōken
de/ato
ni]

balance GEN payment NOM finish.PAST [after] mortgage

‘After payment of the balance is completed, (we) will revoke the mortgage.’
b.
Shikei ga shikkō sareta [ato enzai da
de/ato ni],

execution NOM conduct.PAST [after] false.charge COP

‘After the execution was carried out, the charge was proven to be false.’

Furthermore, if the predicate of Q can co-occur with a ni-marked

311
location NP, the sentence is again normally acceptable:
(15) a.
Ōame ga futta [ato jishin ga
de/ato
ni],

torrential.rain NOM fall.PAST [after] earthquake NOM

([Lit.] an earthquake came)

‘After a torrential rain, an earthquake occurred.’

b.
Kono ki wa hana ga saita [ato de/ato ni

this tree TOP flower NOM blossom.PAST [after]

mi o tsukeru.

fruit ACC produce

‘This tree produces fruit after flowers blossom.’

Kuru ‘come’ in (15a) takes a ni-marked goal NP, and the sentence can
be interpreted as ‘an earthquake came to the place that had had torrential
rain’. Mi o tsukeru ‘produce fruit’ in (15b) can also take a ni-marked
location as in miki ni mi o tsukeru ‘produce fruit to (on) its branches’.
16.2.5 P-tara Q
This pattern – consisting of the verb’s ta-form plus the connective particle
ra – indicates that Q′ takes place only after P′ is realized or completed.
(“P-tara Q” can also be used as a conditional sentence, which will be
discussed in Chapter 18.)
(16) a.
Yon-dara koko ni modoshite kudasai.

after.reading here to return.TE please

‘After reading, please return (it) here.’

b.
Uchi o de-tara, ame ga futte kita.

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 house ACC after.leaving rain NOM started.falling

‘After/When (I) left (my) house, rain started.’

As Kuno (1973: 180–83) points out, when “P-tara Q” refers to a

sequence that has occurred in the past, i.e. a factual statement, self-
controllable timing cannot exist between P′ and Q′ as demonstrated in (17).
(17) a.
#Marī wa uchi o de-tara eki e mukatta

TOP house ACC after.leaving station to Headed

‘After leaving (her) house, Mary headed for the station.’

b.
#Marī wa tegami o kai-tara tomodachi ni miseta

TOP letter ACC after.writing friend to showed

‘After writing a letter, Mary showed (it) to a friend.’

When the sequence does not occur in the past, this constraint of self-
controllability does not apply; therefore, (18) is appropriate:
(18)
Uchi ni kaet-tara denwa shimasu.

house to after.returning telephone do

‘When I get home, I’ll call you.’

16.2.6 P-ru to Q
Like “P-tara Q,” “P-ru to Q” can also be used as a conditional expression;
it will therefore be discussed again in Chapter 18. When used as a
temporal-sequence indicator, Q must be in the past tense; otherwise, “P-ru
to Q” must be interpreted as a conditional sentence. This pattern is most
suitable when the speaker intends to objectively portray that two situations
occurred in sequence, without interpreting any possible causal or other
connections. Therefore, the pairs of situations in (4), which are
incompatible with “P-te Q,” can be expressed naturally with “P-ru to Q.”
(19) a.
Maki ga mado o akeru to, doa no beru

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 NOM window ACC when.opening door GEN bell

‘Maki opened the window, and the doorbell chimed.’

b.
Watashi ga kaijō ni tsuku to, kōen

I NOM meeting.place at when.arriving lecture

‘I arrived at the meeting place, and the lecture began.’

As a purely objective indicator of a sequence of situations, “P-ru to Q”

can be used where “P-tara Q” is forbidden. Compare (17) and (20).
(20) a.
Marī wa uchi o deru to eki e mukatta

TOP house ACC after.leaving station to headed

‘After leaving (her) house, Mary headed for the station.’

b.
Marī wa tegami o kaku to tomodachi ni miseta

TOP letter ACC after.writing friend to showed

‘After writing a letter, Mary showed (it) to a friend.’

Because no logical or other perceivable relationship is implied between

P′ and Q′, “P-ru to Q” is commonly employed when P′ designates a
condition under which Q′ is unexpectedly discovered. This is exemplified
in (21).
(21) a.
Doa o akeru to, kozutsumi ga oite atta.

door ACC after.leaving parcel NOM was.left

‘When (I) opened the door, there was a parcel left (there).’
b.
Uma wa ike ni kuru to mizu o nomi-
dashita.

horse TOP pond to after.coming water ACC drinking-

314
 started

‘When the horse came to the pond, it began to drink water.’

The situation in (21b) can be stated also with “P-te Q” as in (21c):

c.
Uma wa ike ni ki-te mizu o nomi-dashita.

horse TOP pond to come-TE water ACC drinking-

started

‘The horse came to the pond, and started drinking water.’

However, while the speaker of (21b) reports the two events from an
indifferent observer’s viewpoint, (21c) implies that the speaker has
interpreted the sequence as purposeful/planned acts on the part of the
horse. That is, the speaker considers that the horse came to the pond to
drink water.
This characteristic of “P-ru to Q” of emphasizing the speaker as a mere
observer makes it inconsistent when used to narrate the speaker’s own
actions:
(22)
Watashi wa eiga o [mi- kaimono o shita
te/#miru
to]

I TOP movie ACC after.seeing shopping ACC did

‘I saw a movie and did some shopping.”

16.2.7 P-ta toki Q

This pattern, which indicates the temporal relationship of P′ ≺ Q′, was
discussed in Section 9.4.
16.3 Q′ ≺ P′
In the following sentence patterns, Q′ precedes P′; that is, the event
sequence is the opposite of the clause order.
16.3.1 P-ru mae ni Q
As mentioned earlier, this pattern expresses the sequence opposite to “P-ta

315
ato de Q.”
(23) a.
Taberu mae ni te o arai-nasai.

before.eating hand ACC wash-IMP

‘Wash your hands before eating!’

b.
Hiro ni au mae ni ginkō ni itta.

with before.meeting bank to went

‘Before meeting with Hiro, (I) went to the bank.’

c.
Taifū ga kuru mae ni, hashi o shūfuku shita

typhoon NOM before.coming bridge ACC restoration did

‘Before the typhoon came, (we) restored the bridge.’

16.3.2 P-nai uchi ni Q

This is a perplexing way to express Q′ ≺ P′, wherein uchi ‘within the
interval’ is attached to a verb negative form (see Figure 16.1). This pattern
literally means ‘during the interval that P′ is yet to happen, Q′
occurs/occurred’. Therefore, strictly speaking, it designates simultaneity
rather than temporal succession. Nevertheless, because it is frequently
interchangeable with “P-ru mae ni Q,” it is considered within this section.

Figure 16.1. P-nai uchi ni Q.

Unlike -ru mae ni, -nai uchi ni implies the speaker’s evaluation of, or
expectation concerning, the P′ ≺ Q′ sequence.
A. The speaker thinks that the order of P′ ≺ Q′ is undesirable
(24) a.
Kuraku [nara-nai uchi ni/naru mae ni], kaetta hō ga ii

dark before.becoming better.go.home

‘(You)’d better go home before it gets dark.’

316
 b.
Oya ni [mitsukara-nai tabako wa yamemashita
uchi ni/mitsukaru
mae ni]

parent DAT before.being.caught cigarette TOP quit

‘(I) quit smoking before (I was) caught by (my) parents.’

In this case, -nai uchi ni is preferred to -ru mae ni. It seems that
the negation in -nai uchi ni indirectly signals the undesirability of
the sequence.
B. The speaker thinks that the order of P′ ≺ Q′ is expected or
desirable, but contrary to this expectation, Q′ ≺ P′ occurs:
(25) a.
Kaisha wa ninka ga [ori-nai uchi ni/oriru
mae ni]

company TOP permission NOM [before.being.granted]

o hajimeta.

ACC started

‘The company started construction before a permit was granted.’

b.
Uriage ga antei [shi-nai uchi ni/suru mae ni],

sale NOM stable [before.achieving]

kakuchō suru koto wa kangaete inai

expand NMLZ TOP be.not.thinking

‘(I’m) not thinking about expanding the business before sales are stabi

In this case, -nai uchi ni and -ru mae ni are truly interchangeable.
Unlike Case A, the relationship between P′ and Q′ in Case B can
be expressed with the concessive connector noni ‘although’, which

317
 will be examined in Subsection 17.3.2.
C. Rather than expressing the Q′ ≺ P′ sequence, P′ emphasizes how
soon Q′ occurs; the particle mo ‘even’ routinely appears in this
usage:
(26) a.
10-pun mo [aruka-nai uchi ashi ga itaku
ni/#aruku mae
ni],

10- even [before.walking] foot NOM painful

minutes

‘(My) feet started aching even before (I’d) walked for 10 minutes.’
b.
Shūshoku shite hantoshi mo [tata-nai uchi ni
mae ni],

getting.employed.TE half.year even [before.passing]

kare wa mō yametagatte iru.

he TOP already want.to.quit

‘It had not been even half a year before he began to want to quit (his
job).’

In Case C, -nai uchi ni can be replaced with the concessive noni, but it
cannot be replaced with -ru mae ni.
Kuno (1973: 156–58) argues that P in “P-nai uchi ni Q” cannot refer to a
definite event that is known to have happened in the past, and provides the
following example:
(27)
#Jon wa kyonen Tōkyō ni ikimashita ga, Tōkyō ni

TOP last.year to went but to

ika-nai uchi ni byōki ni narimashita.

before.going sick became

318
 ‘John went to Tokyo last year but, even before he went, he’d gotten
sick.’

This analysis, however, is invalid. Consider the following, which is

parallel to the construction in (27).
(28)
Jon wa kyonen sotsugyō ga, sotsugyō shi-nai
shimashita uchi ni

TOP last.year graduated but before.graduating

shūshoku ga kimarimashita.

employment NOM secured

‘John graduated last year, but, even before graduation, he got a job
offer.’

Therefore, the anomaly of (27) must be attributed to some factor other

than what Kuno identifies. It can, seemingly, be attributed to the common
understanding that becoming sick normally leads to cancellation of a
planned event. In fact, “P-nai uchi ni Q” can be used to deny the
actualization of P′ as exemplified by (24b), quitting smoking before being
caught by one’s parents. If there is no natural incompatibility between P′
and Q′, as in (28), P can be used to refer to an event that is known to have
occurred in the past.
16.3.3 P-ru toki Q
This pattern, which can indicate Q′ ≺ P′, was discussed in Section 9.4.
16.4 P′ ≈ Q′
In English, this temporal relationship is expressed idiomatically with the
conjunction while. In Japanese, different patterns are employed depending
upon whether or not (i) the subjects of P and Q are identical, and (ii) the
depicted situations are actions or events/states.
16.4.1 P-nagara Q
In this construction, (i) the subject of P and Q must be identical, and (ii)
nagara ‘while’ attaches to the adverbial form of an action verb, indicating
that the subject referent performs the two actions simultaneously.3 With
the English while, it is normally implied that the main-clause event takes

319
place within the time frame of the event denoted by the subordinate clause
(Leonard 2001). Therefore, (29a) is natural, but (29b) is odd.
(29) a. While I took a shower, I sang a song.
b. ??While I sang a song, I took a shower.
This restriction does not apply to nagara; both sentences in (30) are
natural, meaning that the two activities overlap in time.
(30) a.
Watashi wa shawā o abi-nagara uta o utatta

I TOP shower ACC taking.while song ACC sang

‘While taking a shower, I sang a song.’

b.
Watashi wa uta o utai-nagara shawā o abita

I TOP song ACC singing.while shower ACC took

‘While singing a song, I took a shower.’

16.4.2 P-ru aida/uchi ni Q

Unlike nagara, the subject of P and Q with while can be distinct, as
exemplified below:
(31) The control tower had a very old computer. One day, when the
computer crashed, the air traffic controllers were forced to halt all
take-offs while the manager got the backup computer going.
When the subjects of P and Q are different, “P-ru aida ni” or “P-ru uchi
ni” (in the interval of P′) can be employed.
(32) a.
Kachi ga aru [aida/uchi] ni utta hō ga ii.

value NOM exist [while] sell side NOM good

‘While (it) still has value, (you)’d better sell (it).’

b.
Kodomo ga nete iru [aida/uchi] hon o yomō.
ni

I NOM sleeping [while] book ACC read.VOL

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 ‘I’ll read a book while (my) child is sleeping.’

Unlike “P-nai uchi ni” discussed above, P in this construction must be

stative (see Section 9.2) or in the -te iru construction. That is, verbs which
refer to a punctual event or action cannot be used in this pattern. This is a
semantic requirement because P′ must specify a duration of time within
which Q′ takes place.
16.4.3 P-ru aida/aida-jū (zutto) Q
If P′ and Q′ totally overlap, aida ‘during the duration of P′’ or aida-jū
‘during the entire duration of P′’ is used. Additionally, the verb in P must
be stative or in the -te iru construction. Q is frequently modified with zutto
‘all the time/throughout’ as exemplified below:
(33) a.
Watashi ga kōgi o shite aida(jū), gakusei
iru

I NOM lecture ACC doing while student

zutto inemuri shite ita.

throughout was.dozing

‘The entire time I was lecturing, students were dozing.’

b.
Kare ga bakkuappu konpyūtā o tachiagete aida(j
iru

he NOM backup computer ACC booting while

watashi wa tonari no heya ni ita.

I TOP next GEN room in was

‘I was in the next room while he booted up the backup computer.’

1 Due to the iconicity between the clause and the event order, this
sequential interpretation is accounted for in linguistics as the speaker’s
observation of a MAXIM OF MANNER (i.e. the drive to be clear and orderly
in order to communicate cooperatively), a part of the Gricean Theory of

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Implicature. Refer to any pragmatics textbook for further information on
Gricean Theory.
2 In (12b), the topic marker wa, rather than the nominative ga is used
because of the negative context of Q (see Section 8.11).
3 If the predicate of P is stative, nagara is interpreted as a concessive
connective (although, even though). See Section 17.3 for the concessive
relation.

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 17 Causal and concessive clauses
17.1 Introduction
A CAUSAL RELATION exists between two situations when one (CAUSE)
brings about the other (EFFECT). A CONCESSIVE RELATION is one in
which one situation (introduced by although, even though, despite, etc.)
denotes a circumstance that is expected to preclude another situation
(expressed by the main clause), but, contrary to this expectation, does not.
This chapter will examine these two clause-linkage types. Continuing the
convention introduced in Chapter 16, the connected clauses are
represented as P and Q as in (1), and the situations they reference as P′
(cause) and Q′ (effect).
(1) a.
Because P, Q or Q because P [causal relation]
b.
Although P, Q or Q although P [concessive relation]

In English, as in (2a), a causal relation is commonly marked by the

conjunction because. However, because is also frequently employed to
express a REASON RELATION as in (2b).
(2) a. She lost her job because she posted on Facebook a rant on the
restaurant customers.
b.I’ve decided not to take the position because the duties seem
impossible.
Prototypically, causation applies to the world of tangible entities and
natural laws, whereas reasons concern human actions and intentions (i.e.
motivation or justification for an action). However, it has often been
argued that reasons are themselves causal in nature (e.g. Davidson 1980:
3–19). Languages sometimes employ a word corresponding to cause and
frequently a word corresponding to because, even when reasons and not
causes are involved. Furthermore, there are apparent regularities obtaining
between reasons and actions, similar to those regularities that lie at the
heart of the causal relation in the Humean conception of causation.1
Therefore, to determine whether a certain relationship should be uniquely
categorized as a cause or a reason is not always easy. Donnellan (1967:
86), who argues that these two concepts must be kept distinct, nevertheless
acknowledges that because is commonly used to emphasize
metaphorically the compelling nature (force) of the reason.

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 Cause and reason are each distinct in essential ways. Consider this
example: if arsenic is found in a corpse, this is likely the cause of the
person’s death. However, further explanation is usually sought, and if it is
discovered that someone deliberately put the poison in the victim’s food,
then the poisoner’s action becomes the cause of this death. The presence of
arsenic in the body is now perceived simply as the way in which the
poisoner produced the effect. Once this point is reached, a sense of finality
is achieved as regards the causal relation. Greed or the desire for revenge
may have motivated the poisoner to place arsenic in the victim’s food, but
such motivations are not regarded as the cause of the victim’s death. That
is, causes are not traced through to the motive of the deliberate act (Hart
and Honoré 1959: 39–40).
Cause and reason differ also in terms of the temporal order of P and Q.
In a causal relation, the cause must exist prior to the effect, whereas this
chronological arrangement is not mandatory in a reason relation.
(3) a.
QNow you’re relieved Pbecause I told you the [P′ ≺ Q′;
story. cause]

b. Q
I’ve renewed my passport Pbecause I’m going to [Q′ ≺ P′;
Japan this summer. reason)

Awareness of this distinction between cause and reason is beneficial for

examination of Japanese causal connectives.
The conjunction because can also be used in the following manner:
(4) a. QJohn smokes Pbecause he has cigarettes in his house. (Haegeman
and Wekker 1984: 54)
b. QJohn smokes, Pbecause he has cigarettes in his house.
c. QWhat are you doing tonight, Pbecause there’s a good movie on.
(Sweetser 1990: 77)
Sweetser provides an analysis in which sentences may depict causation
in different domains. Sentences like (4a) depict a causation (a reason in
this case) in the CONTENT DOMAIN (i.e. real-world or external-world) in
which the cause (P′: John’s keeping cigarettes in his house) must exist
prior to the effect (Q′: his smoking cigarettes). The circumstance is quite
different in (4b). P′ is the basis from which the speaker has derived the
conclusion Q′. This is claimed to be a causal relation, but operative in the

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EPISTEMIC (i.e. inferential) DOMAIN. In (4c), P′ (a good movie was
showing) signifies the reason the speaker makes the question Q′ (what the
addressee would do on that night). Sweetser asserts that this “causal”
relation is effective in the SPEECH-ACT DOMAIN.2, 3 (Speech acts are acts
performed and understood linguistically – i.e. by means of utterances –
e.g. advising, apologizing, congratulating, greeting, ordering, promising,
warning, etc. See Chapter 19 for further explanation.)
These three domains can be identified by whether the because-clause
can be used to respond to the following questions:
(5) a. Why does John smoke?
Because he has cigarettes in his house. [content domain]
b.Why do you think John smokes?
Because he has cigarettes in his [epistemic
house. domain]
c. Why do you say it (e.g. ask that question)?
Because there’s a good movie on. [speech-act domain]

17.2 Causal connections in Japanese

Causal relations in Japanese are commonly expressed by use of the
conjunctive particles kara and node or the conjunctive phrase tame ni ‘for
the sake of’.4
17.2.1 Kara
The conjunction kara can be used to express causal or reason relations in
all of the content, epistemic, and speech-act domains.
(6) Content domain [cause]
a.
Koko wa umi ni chikai kara, kuruma ga sugu ni

here TOP ocean to near because car NOM quickly

‘Because it’s close to the ocean here, cars rust quickly.’

b.
Kinō nomi-sugita kara, atama ga

yesterday over.drank because head NOM

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 ‘Because (I) drank too much yesterday, (I) have a headache [Lit. my head aches

(7) Content domain [reason]

a.
Ame ga futta kara, pikunikku wa chūshi
shita.

rain NOM fell because picnic NEG- cancelled

SCP

‘Because it rained, (we) cancelled the picnic.’

b.
Tsukareta kara, ashita wa shigoto o yasumu

tired because tomorrow TOP work ACC rest

‘Because (I’m) tired, (I’ll) take the day off tomorrow.’

(8) Epistemic domain

a.
Kanojo wa waratte kara, kitto gōkaku no
iru shita

she TOP is.smiling because certainly passed NMLZ

‘Because she is smiling, it’s certain that (she) passed the exam.’
b.
Kuruma ga tomatte kara, kare wa kaette iru
iru

car NOM is.parked because he TOP has.come.home

‘Because (his) car is parked (there), he must be at home.’

(9) Speech-act domain

a.
Koko de matte iru kara, ki-te kudasai.

here at is.waiting because come-TE please

‘Please come here, because I’ll be waiting (for you).’

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 b. Tenki ga ii kara, dokoka ni ikimasen ka?

weather NOM good because somewhere to not.go INT

‘Because the weather is fine, shouldn’t we go somewhere?’

Although kara can be used for causal expressions in the content domain,
it is more compatible with the reason relation than with the causal relation
(the judgments in causal sentences in (10) are from Masuoka 1997: 123):
(10) a.
?Yuki ga hageshiku futta kara, Shinkansen ga

snow NOM heavily fell because NOM

‘Because the snow fell so deeply, the Shinkansen bullet train stopped.’
b.
? ga amari nakatta kara, ketsuron wa
Jikan

time NOM much there.was.not because conclusion NEG-

SCP

‘Because there was not enough time, a conclusion was not reached.’

Despite a significant number of analyses available for the differences

between kara and noda, the distinction remains unclear largely due to the
fluctuation of grammatical and/or appropriateness judgments by analysts
(Iwasaki 1995). For example, many native speakers of Japanese would not
detect any anomaly in (10). However, (10a) sounds, at the least, ineloquent
to me while (10b) sounds better than (10a). By contrast, the causal
examples (6a–6b) I constructed sound perfectly natural. It seems that the
acceptability increases when the depicted situation pertains to a personal
experience (e.g. when the speaker is involved in the depicted situation). On
the other hand, when kara appears inside a nominalized clause (Chapter
15), its use for causal relations is completely acceptable.
(11) a.
Yuki ga hageshiku futta kara, Shinkansen no da.
ga tomatta

NMLZ COP.NPST

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 ‘[Lit.] It is the case that the Shinkansen bullet train stopped
because the snow had fallen so deeply.’
b.
Jikan ga amari nakatta kara, ketsuron wa no da.
denakatta

NMLZ COP.NPST

‘[Lit.] It is the case that no conclusion was reached because

there was not enough time.’

This fact reveals that kara is not intrinsically incongruous with causal
relations; rather, the subtle incompatibility in (10) lies in the mental
process of tracking a situation as it unfolds in event-reporting sentences
(Langacker 1987: 144; 2008: 111; see also Subsection 15.4.3). That is,
when constructing and/or interpreting causal sentences like (10), the
connected situations are tracked in time as well as for their causal
connections, whereas for nominalized sentences like (11), all information
is atemporal and simultaneously available. It seems that kara is not well-
suited to expressing temporal sequentiality and causality simultaneously.
This is an interesting topic that awaits further investigation.
Kara is thoroughly compatible with reason relations in the content and
epistemic domains. (Note that such sentences are atemporal, and do not
narrate sequences of events.) Kara also occurs routinely as a conjunction
in the speech-act domain (which is also atemporal), as discussed in
Shirakawa (1995). However, as with because, kara cannot mark
motivations for many kinds of speech acts:
(12) a.
#Omoshiroi eiga o yatte iru kara, konban nani

interesting movie ACC showing because tonight what

shite imasu ka?

is.doing INT

‘What are you doing tonight, because there’s a good movie on.’
b.
#Sotsugyō nasatta kara, omedetō gozaimasu.

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 graduation do.HON because congratulations

‘[Lit.] Congratulations, because you have graduated.’

c.
#Otōsama ga onakunari ni natta kara,

father.HON NOM died.HON because

goshūshōsama de gozaimasu.

there.is.lamentation

‘(I offer) my deepest condolences, because your father has passed away.’
[intended]

The use of because is possible in (12a), performing a speech act of

questioning, but kara cannot be used for genuine questions. Note that (9b),
repeated below, which permits kara, is also interrogative; however, its
speech act must be recognized as an invitation, not as an information-
seeking question like (12a).
(9) b.
Tenki ga ii kara, dokoka ni ikimasen ka?

weather NOM good because somewhere to not.go INT

‘Because the weather is fine, shouldn’t we go somewhere?’

In (12b–12c), although the addressee’s graduation and his/her father’s

death, respectively, are apparently the reasons for the speaker to
congratulate and condole, neither because nor kara is usable.
17.2.2 Node
Like kara, the conjunction node can be used to express causal relations in
the content, epistemic, and speech-act domains. Unlike kara, however,
node is thoroughly compatible with causal relations in the content domain
as shown in (13):
(13) Content domain [cause]
a.
Yuki ga hageshiku futta node, Shinkansen ga

snow NOM heavily fell because NOM

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 ‘Because the snow fell deeply, the Shinkansen bullet train stopped.’
b.
Jikan ga amari nakatta node, ketsuron wa

time NOM much there.was.not because conclusion NEG-

SCP

‘Because there was not enough time, a conclusion was not reached.’

(14) Content domain [reason]

a.
Ame ga futta node, pikunikku wa chūshi
shita.

rain NOM fell because picnic NEG- cancelled

SCP

‘Because it rained, (we) cancelled the picnic.’

b.
Tsukareta node, ashita wa shigoto o yasumu

tired because tomorrow TOP work ACC rest

‘Because (I’m) tired, (I’ll) take the day off tomorrow.’

Node is compatible also with the epistemic domain; however, in such

cases, the use of kara sounds more natural and idiomatic.
(15) a.
Kanojo wa waratte [kara/node], kitto gōkaku
iru shita

she TOP is.smiling because certainly passed

‘Because she is smiling, it’s certain that (she) passed the exam.’
b.
Kuruma ga tomatte [kara/node], kare wa kaette iru
iru

car NOM is.parked because he TOP has.come.home

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 ‘Because (his) car is parked (there), he must be at home.’

Node can occur in the speech-act domain as well; however, again, kara
sounds more appropriate in many, if not most, cases:
(16) a.
Koko de matte iru [kara/node], ki-te kudasai.

here at is.waiting because come-TE please

‘Please come here, because I’ll be waiting.’

b.
Tenki ga ii [kara/? dokoka ni ikimasen
node],

weather NOM good because somewhere to not.go

‘Because the weather is fine, shall we go somewhere?’

In (16a), when making a request, kara and node are equally appropriate,
but node sounds less assertive and, consequently, more polite. In (16b), an
invitation, many native speakers of Japanese would feel the use of node
somewhat unnatural.
c.
Kitanai [kara/??node], sōji o shi-nasai.

dirty [because] cleaning ACC do-IMP

‘Clean (the room), because it’s dirty.’

d.
Shūchū dekinai [kara/#node], shizuka ni shiro.

concentration cannot [because] quiet do-IMP

‘Be quiet, because (I) can’t concentrate!’

Both sentences in (16c–16d) make commands, which is a more forceful

speech act than a request or invitation. The tone of (16d), with the
imperative form of the verb, is more dominant and authoritative than (16c)
with the imperative suffix nasai. Most native speakers would likely find
node in (16c) marginal, and in (16d) unacceptable. That is, node is

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incompatible with brusque speech acts. In fact, in (16a), the use of kara
emphasizes the speaker’s reason for making the request, namely that s/he
will be waiting for the addressee. Used in this way, kara can suggest the
forcefulness of the speaker’s request, so that the addressee understands
s/he should come promptly.
This firm assertiveness of kara is likely to be received unfavorably by
hearers when the intended speech act is an apology or excuse. In (17), for
instance, if kara is selected, it conveys the idea that all the blame should be
attributed to the computer’s breaking down, not the speaker him/herself.
Node, by contrast, merely states a causal relation more objectively,
although explicitly stating such a fact by itself can be received negatively
in Japanese culture, attributable to the speaker’s lack of emergency-
preparedness.
(17)
Konpyūtā ga kowareta [kara/node], ma ni aimasen
deshita.

computer NOM broke [because] not.meet.the.deadline

‘Because (my) computer broke down, the deadline couldn’t be met.’

Finally, when P is conjectural, the use of node is prohibited. That is,

when using node, P′ must be presented as a fact.
(18) a.
Dōse ukaranai darō [kara/*node], ukenakatta.

anyway not.pass COP.CNJ [because] did.not.take

‘Because I thought that (I) wouldn’t pass, (I) didn’t take (the exam).’
b.
Otsukare deshō [kara/*node], kōhī wa ikaga
desu

tired.HON COP.CNJ.POL [because] coffee TOP how.about

‘How about (some) coffee, because (I) guess you’re tired.’

There are grammatical constraints on kara, which requires the preceding

predicate to be in the conclusive form (used for listing dictionary entries).
In contrast, node requires the attributive form (used to modify nouns). As

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explained in Subsection 1.2.4, the conclusive and attributive forms merged
during the Middle Japanese period, remaining distinct only for the copula
(Section 6.2). The copula’s conclusive form is da, and its attributive form
is na.
(19)
Hima [da kara/na node], shōsetsu o kaita.

free [because] novel ACC wrote

‘[Lit.] Because (I was) free, I wrote a novel.’

However, na has neither past-tense nor polite counterparts, so if tense or

politeness is expressed in P, both kara and node take the same form.
(20)
Hima datta/deshita [kara/node], shōsetsu o kaita/kakimashita

free COP.PAST [because] novel ACC wrote

‘Because (I) had plenty of free time, I wrote a novel.’

17.2.3 Tame ni
Unlike kara and node, the conjunctive phrase tame ni is compatible only
with causal relations and marginally with reason relations in the content
domain; it cannot be used in the epistemic or the speech-act domain.
(21) a. Content domain [cause]
Yuki ga hageshiku futta [? Shinkansen
kara/node/tame
ni],

snow NOM heavily fell [because]

‘Because the snow fell heavily, the Shinkansen bullet train stopped.’
b. Content domain [reason]
Tsukareta [kara/node/??tame ni], ashita wa shigoto

tired [because] tomorrow TOP work

‘Because (I’m) tired, (I’ll) take the day off tomorrow.’

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 c. Epistemic domain
Kanojo wa waratte [kara/node/*tame kitto
iru ni],

she TOP is.smiling [because] certainly

no da.

NMLZ COP.NPST

‘Because she is smiling, it’s certain that (she) passed the exam.’
d.Speech-act domain
Tenki ga ii [kara/?node/*tame dokoka ni
ni],

weather NOM good [because] somewhere to

‘Because the weather is fine, shall we go somewhere?’

The appropriate uses of kara, node, and tame ni are summarized

schematically in Table 17.1, where 〇 indicates total compatibility, Δ
partial compatibility, and ✕ incompatibility. Causal relations in the
content domain can be considered as the most objective because the actual
relationship between P′ and Q′ is the main factor in this type of linguistic
encoding. At the other extreme, “causal” relations in the speech-act
domain are most subjective because no causal relation whatsoever exists in
the real world between P′ and Q′. “Causal” relations in the epistemic
domain fall somewhere between these two extremes.
Table 17.1 Kara, node, and tame ni compared.5
Content Epistemic Speech-act
domain domain domain

Cause Reason

kara ∆ 〇 〇 〇

node 〇 〇 ∆ ∆

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 tame 〇 ∆ ✕ ✕
ni

17.3 Concessive connections

17.3.1 English
Like the causal subordinate conjunction because, although is used for
concession in the three domains. Examples in (22b–22d) are derived from
Sweetser (1990: 79):
(22) a. Content domain (cause)
Although a 6.0 magnitude earthquake hit the region, no casualties
were claimed.
b. Content domain (reason)
Although he didn’t hear me calling, he came and saved my life.
c. Epistemic domain
Although he came and saved me, he hadn’t heard me calling for
help. (The fact that he didn’t hear me is true in spite of the fact that
he came, which might reasonably have led me to conclude that he
had heard.)
d.Speech-act domain
Although I sympathize with your problem, please turn in the paper
tomorrow!
A concessive relation can be defined as denial of expectation, which is
commonly expressed not only with subordinate conjunctions like
although, but also with the coordinate conjunction but (Sweetser 1990:
100–11):
(23) a. Although France is Catholic, it’s socialist.
b. France is Catholic, but it’s socialist.
(24) a. Although John is wealthy, he is not smart about his money.
b. John is rich but unwise (about how he uses his money).
But is also used to express OPPOSITION (i.e. dissimilarity according to a
particular feature), where the use of although for this purpose is deemed
marginal.
(25) a. John is rich, but Bill is poor.
b. ?Although John is rich, Bill is poor.
This difference is due to the fact that sentences like (25) do not involve

335
any clash between an expectation and reality: it is well within expectation,
for example, that some people are rich and some are poor. Therefore, there
is opposition, but not concession. However, when additional information is
provided – e.g. John and Bill are brothers – (25b) can become perfectly
acceptable because, then, both can be expected to be equally poor or
equally rich.
17.3.2 Japanese
In Japanese, concessive relations are marked by the conjunctives
keredo(mo) (and its colloquial variation kedo) and noni.6 Both are
compatible with the content domain as shown in (26a–b).
(26) a. Content domain [cause]
Magunichūdo 6.0 no jishin ga kita

magnitude GEN earthquake NOM came

fushōsha wa hitori mo denakatta.

casualty TOP one.person even did.not.exist

‘Although a magnitude 6.0 earthquake took place, not even a single person was
b. Content domain [reason]
Watashi no sakebi-goe wa todokanakatta [keredo/noni]

I GEN scream NEG-SCP did.not.reach although

kare wa tasuke ni ki-te kureta

he TOP help for come-TE gave

‘Although my scream didn’t reach (him), he came to help me.’

However, in the epistemic and speech-act domains, noni cannot be used:

(27) Epistemic domain
a.
Kare wa tasuke ni ki-te kureta [keredo/*noni]

he TOP help for come-TE gave [although]

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 no sakebi-goe wa todokanakatta no

GEN scream NEG-SCP did.not.reach NMLZ

‘Although he came to help me, it is the case that my scream had not reached (h
b.
Kare wa yoku [keredo/*noni], susumeta kusuri
natta

he TOP recovered [although] recommended medicine

nomanakatta no da.

did.not.take NMLZ COP.NPST

‘Although he recovered, he didn’t take the medicine that (I) recommended.’

(28) Speech-act domain

a.
Anata no jijō wa yoku wakarimasu

you GEN circumstance TOP well understand

shukudai wa ashita dashite kudasai.

homework TOP tomorrow submit-TE please.do

‘Although I understand your situation, please submit (your) assignment tomorr

b.
Mada hayai [keredo/*noni], dekakemashō.

still early [although] go.POL.VOL

‘Although it’s still early, let’s go (now).’

Furthermore, keredo can be used for opposition although noni cannot.

For example, noni in (29) is acceptable only when John and Bill are
expected to be equally affluent or to major in the same academic field, but
keredo does not have such a restriction.
(29) a.
Jon wa kanemochi [da keredo/#na noni], Biru wa binb

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 TOP rich [COP.although] TOP poor

‘John is rich, but Bill is poor.’

b.
Jon wa gengogaku o senkō shite [keredo/#noni]
iru

TOP linguistics ACC is.majoring [although]

butsurigaku o senkō shite

iru.

physics ACC is.majoring

‘John is majoring in linguistics, but Bill is majoring in physics.’

Parallel to the situation with causal kara and node, keredo takes the
conclusive form (da), whereas noni takes the attributive form (na), as
shown in (29a). This difference does not surface with non-copula
predicates, e.g. (29b). As discussed earlier, the conclusive form can be
replaced with the past-tense or the polite counterpart. This indicates that,
although being categorized as subordinate, clauses marked with kara or
keredo are linguistically more independent (i.e. coordination-like) than
those marked with node or noni (pure subordination). This provides a
partial explanation as to why keredo can be used to signify not only
concession but also simple opposition, which is normally expressed by a
coordinate conjunction like but.
This difference in degree of subordination creates the following contrast:
(30) a.
Shikaku ga nai [? ōbo n
keredo/noni] shita

qualification NOM not.exist [although] applied NMLZ

‘[Lit.] Is it the case that (you) applied (for the position) although (you’re) not
qualified?’

As the translation indicates, the concessive clause in this sentence

should be embedded inside the nominalization, and the entire nominalized

338
clause is questioned. That is, the intended meaning is not as You’re not
qualified, but have you nevertheless applied?, but as Have you applied
even though you are not qualified? While the genuine subordination node-
clause can comfortably appear within the nominalized clause, the more
independent (lower degree of subordination) kara-clause can only
marginally do so.
1 In his An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, David Hume
(1748) claimed that causal relations exist only in human cognition, not
between situations themselves. He defined causal relations as invariable
sequences. Two spatially contiguous changes, A and B, are in a causal
relation if A is immediately followed by B and if situations similar to A
are always immediately followed by situations similar to B. The notion of
similarity is crucial here because without it the human conception of a
causal link between specific situations cannot be accounted for. Suppose,
for example, that Smith was beheaded and died. This particular sequence
of situations occurred only once in history, and yet we recognize a causal
relation because we “know” that anyone who is beheaded invariably dies.
As Russell (1917) cautions, however, similarity is itself a difficult concept
to define. For further discussion on cause and reason, see Hasegawa
(1996a: 184–88, 191–94).
2 Since, another conjunction of causation, tends strongly towards an
epistemic or a speech-act reading rather than a content-domain reading
(Sweetser 1990: 82). While as a concessive conjunction can operate only in
the epistemic and speech-act domains. When employed in the content
domain, it must be interpreted as a conjunction of simultaneity (p. 155).
3 In French, parce que ‘because’ is used for the content domain, whereas
puisque is specialized for the epistemic or speech-act domain: Il va
l’épouser parce qu’il l’adore ‘He’s going to marry her because he adores
her’; (Mais si,) il va l’épouser puisqu’il l’adore ‘(But of course,) he’s
going to marry her, since he adores her’ (Sweetser 1990: 82, 156).
4 Other causal connectors include okage de ‘thanks to’ (used when the
speaker is appreciative of the occurrence of Q′) and sei de ‘as a
consequence’ (used when the speaker is annoyed by Q′).
5 The Dutch language exhibits an interesting distinction among its causal
connectives dus, daarom, and daardoor. Dus most often expresses
epistemic causation and can secondarily be used for reason relations in the
content domain. By contrast, daarom most often expresses reason relations
and can also be used for epistemic causation. These characteristics indicate
that reason relations and epistemic causality have common traits and thus

339
can be categorized together. Like tame ni, daardoor has a strong
preference for cause (not reason) relations in the content domain, and its
use is totally banned from the epistemic and speech-act domains (Sanders
et al. 2009: 21).
6 Other concessive connectors include ni mo kakawarazu ‘in spite of ~’,
mono no ‘although’, nagara ‘while’.

340
 18 Conditional clauses
18.1 Introduction
Conditional constructions pose some of the most difficult problems in
comparing the grammars of English and of Japanese, especially when
attempting to elucidate grammatical contrasts to non-native speakers. It is
understandably so because conditional thoughts are among the most
complex of mental activities. Compare, for example, conditionals with
temporal (Chapter 16) and causal connections (Chapter 17). Although
temporal statements involve the speaker’s subjective assessment of the
temporal alignment of subordinate and main-clause situations, they are
nonetheless the simplest among these three types of clause linkage.
Causals are more complex, for causality is interpreted in the speaker’s
mind, and is not overtly present in situations in the real world.
Conditionals are even more complex and elusive, dealing not only with
actual situations in the real world, but also imagined situations in a
hypothetical world and comparing how a given situation might arise.
As evidence of the complexity of conditionals, I have been writing
academic articles in English for more than two decades. And yet, as a non-
native speaker, I have not grasped all subtleties pertaining to English
conditional constructions. And when I ask native speakers of English
about my uncertainty regarding problematic conditional sentences, it is
frequently unclear whether or not the informant and I are talking about the
same situation. I therefore utilize diagrams, rather than verbal
characterizations about conditional statements. The diagrams in the
following discussion are inspired by Fillmore (1990), wherein ω0 stands
for the real world, ω1 for a possible (alternative) world, S for the speaker
(located in the slot “Now” in the real world when the tense is relevant), -P′
for “not P′” (i.e. denial of the factuality of P′) used to represent
counterfactual conditionals.
In Japanese, the most common conditional connectives are ba, ra, nara,
and to. Ba attaches to the hypothetical form of the subordinate predicate
(e.g. tabere-ba ‘if eat’), ra to the predicate’s ta-form (e.g. tabeta-ra;
hereafter, referred to as tara), and to to the conclusive form (e.g. taberu-
to). (See Section 6.1 for these conjugation forms.) Because the verb form
is uniquely fixed for each connective, such subordinate clauses are
tenseless, and their temporal interpretations are totally dependent on the
interpretation of the main clause. By contrast, nara can take both the past

341
tense form (-ta nara) and the non-past tense form (-ru nara). Therefore,
nara-clauses are tensed, although the interpretation of these tense markers
are often different from those when they occur in a main clause (Suzuki
1993: 137; Arita 2007: 102–05). To simplify the exposition, this chapter
deals mainly with -ru nara with only occasional mention of -ta nara.
Ba is the most authentic conditional connective, rarely used for other
purposes.1 As discussed in Chapter 16, tara and to are used also as
temporal connectives without implying conditionality. Furthermore, ba
can co-occur with tara (tara-ba) and nara (nara-ba). Masuoka (1993b),
therefore, argues that, while ba is a conditional connective proper, tara,
nara, and to mark conditionality only as an extension of their core
functions. Nevertheless, there is no instance in which only ba is permitted
and other three are prohibited (Maeda 1995: 489).
In (1), where both P and Q refer to present (i.e. speech time) situations,
all four connectives can in principle be employed. When P′ and Q′ are
placed in a single cell in a diagram, at least one, possibly both, must be
stative (see Section 9.2 for stativity) because P′ and Q′ must occur
simultaneously or partially overlap. Normally, non-stative situations can
occur only consecutively. P′ ≈ Q′ indicates such simultaneity.
(1)

a. PIf you’re a member, Qyou’re eligible for a discount.

b. P Qwaribiki
Kaiin [de areba/dattara/(de ga arimasu.
aru) nara/da to],

member [if.be] discount NOM there.is

‘If you’re a member, there is a discount.’

The selection of these connectives involves a magnitude of

idiosyncrasies and context dependencies, and grammaticality and/or
acceptability judgments of conditional sentences vary significantly among
native speakers of Japanese. Describing this variation in detail is beyond
the scope of this book.2 Therefore, this chapter attempts to provide a brief
overview of Japanese conditional constructions and noticeable differences
when they are compared with their English counterparts.

342
18.2 Content conditionals
Conditional connectives can in principle be operative in the content,
epistemic, and speech-act domains. Conditionals in the content domain
indicate that the realization of P′ is a sufficient condition for the realization
of Q′ (Sweetser 1990: 114) due to an underlying causal, enablement, or
reason (i.e. motivation for an action) relationship between P′ and Q′.3 In
diagram (2), P′ ≺ Q′ indicates that P′ occurs before Q′.
(2)

a. PIf the development is approved, Qwild animals will become extinct.

b. P
Kaihatsu ga ninka [sarereba/saretara/sareru
nara/sareru to],

development NOM approval [if.be.PASS]

Qyasei dōbutsu wa shinitaete shimau.

wild animal TOP will.be.extinct

[When the translation is identical with the a-sentence, it is not

repeated.]

In (2), there is a causal relation between P′ and Q′. For an example of

enablement conditional, consider (1) above. Sentences like (3) represent
reason conditionals. Note that, unlike reason relations in causal statements
(e.g. PBecause I’ll go to Japan, QI renewed my passport), the order of P
and Q in reason conditionals cannot differ from the events’ temporal order.
That is, in all content conditionals, Q′ cannot occur and become complete
prior to P′.
(3)

a. PIf the wage is low, QI won’t apply.

b.

343
 PKyūryō ga [yasukereba/yasukattara/yasui Qwatashi wa
nara/*yasui to],

wage NOM [if.low] I TOP

ōbo
shinai.

apply.not

In (3), the use of to is prohibited not because it is incompatible with this

temporal configuration of P′ and Q′, but because, as explained in
Subsection 16.2.6, to must convey objective statements. Therefore, the
speaker as an active agent cannot appear or be implied in the main clause.
All sentences with to in (4) are ungrammatical.
(4) a.
P[Omoshirokereba/omoshirokattara/omoshiroi Qyomimasu.
nara/*omoshiroi to],

[if.interesting] read

‘If (it’s) interesting, (I’ll) read (it).’

b. P Qtabetai.
[Oishikereba/oishikattara/oishii nara/*oishii to],

[if.delicious] want.to.eat

‘If (it’s) delicious, I want to eat (it).’

c. P
[Wakaranakereba/wakaranakattara/wakaranai
nara/*wakaranai to],

[if.understand.not]

Qbenkyō shiro.

study.IMP

‘If (you) don’t understand (it), study!’

344
 In (3) and (4a), Q indicates the speaker’s decision to not apply for the
position or read the given material, respectively. Therefore, the statements
are construed to be subjective. If the subject of Q in (3) and (4a) were a
non-speaker, for example kanojo ‘she’, the sentences would be objective
and, therefore, acceptable with to. The agentivity in (4b) can be
questioned; however, this issue does not concern us here. (4c) is an
instance of the speech-act conditional, which is discussed later.
Consider (5). The diagram is identical to (3), but the statement is based
on an objective standpoint, which makes to legitimate:
(5)

a. PIf you’re a member, Qyou’ll receive an invitation to the lecture.

b. P Qkōen
Kaiin [de areba/dattara/(de no shōtaijō
aru) nara/da to],

member [if.be] lecture GEN invitation

ga todokimasu.

NOM will.arrive

‘If (you’re) a member, an invitation to the lecture will be

forthcoming.’

To is prohibited when P′ occurs in the past and P′ and Q′ are sequentially

aligned. In such cases, the use of -ru nara is also prohibited:
(6)

a. PIf she received a scholarship, Qshe probably went to a graduate

school.
b. P
Moshi shōgakukin o [moraeba/morattara/moratta
nara/*morau nara/

ACC

345
 if scholarship [if.receive]

*morau Qkanojo wa daigakuin ni itta darō.

to],

she TOP graduate.school to went COP.CNJ

‘If she received a scholarship, (I deduce that) she went to a graduate

school.’

(7)

a. PIf she finished work early, Qshe is playing a video game now.
b. P
Moshi shigoto ga hayaku [owareba/owattara/owatta nara/*owaru
nara/

if work NOM early [if.finish]

*owaru Qkanojo wa imagoro wa bideo o

to], gēmu

she TOP now TOP video.game ACC

(8)

a. PIf he understood the instructions we gave him yesterday, Qhe’ll arrive on time
b. P
Moshi kinō no setsumei ga [wakareba/wakattara/wakat
nara/

if yesterday GEN explanation NOM [if.understand]

*wakaru nara/*wakaru to], Qkare wa jikoku dōri ni kimasu

he TOP time on come

346
 ‘If he understood the instructions (given to him) yesterday, he’ll arrive on time.’

Recall that, in Subsection 16.2.6, we said that for to to be interpreted as

a temporal connective, the predicate of the main-clause Q must be in the
past tense.
(9)
Maki ga mado o akeru to, doa no beru

NOM window ACC when.opening door GEN bell

‘Maki opened the window, and the doorbell chimed.’

The converse is not true. That is, even if the Q clause is past tense, this
does not guarantee that the to-marked subordinate clause is temporal. It
can be conditional, though only when P or Q (or both) is stative. In such a
case, -ru nara is also possible:
(10)

a. PIf the applicants satisfied all requirements, Qthey were eligible to have an inter
b. P
Moshi subete no jōken o mitashite [ireba/itara/ita

if all GEN requirement ACC fulfill.TE [if.be]

nara/iru Qōbosha wa mensetsu o ukeru shikaku

nara/iru
to],

applicant TOP interview ACC take eligibility

‘[Lit.] If the applicants satisfied all requirements, they had the right to have an
interview.’

To summarize, to cannot be used (i) when the statement is subjective

(i.e. the speaker is actively involved in the depicted situation or speech
act), e.g. (3b) and (4), and (ii) when P′ and Q′ are sequentially aligned and
P′ occurs in the past, e.g. (6b), (7b), and (8b). The use of to is legitimate if
P′ and Q′ are simultaneous, e.g. (10b), or if P′ does not occur in the past,

347
e.g. (1b), (2b) and (5b). -Ru nara is prohibited in (ii).
18.3 Epistemic conditionals
18.3.1 P′ ≈ Q′ or P′ ≺ Q′
In epistemic conditionals, the condition P′ provides the speaker with a
reliable basis upon which to conclude the possible realization of Q′: i.e. If I
know P′, then I conclude Q′.
(11)

a. PIf the lights are on, Qhe’s at home.

b. P Qkare
Moshi denki ga tsuite [ireba/itara/iru wa
nara/*iru to],

if light NOM turned [if.be] he TOP

uchi ni iru (darō).

home at stay COP.CNJ

In (11), P′ (the lights are on) does not cause or enable Q′ (he is at home),
nor does it identify the possible reason for his being at home. Rather, if P′
is true, the speaker can derive Q′ by inference.
Compare (11b) with the content conditional (1b).
(1)

b. P Qwaribiki
Kaiin [de areba/dattara/(de ga arimasu.
aru) nara/da to],

member [if.be] discount NOM there.is

‘If you’re a member, there is a discount.’

Although the temporal alignments of P′ and Q′ are identical in these two

348
cases, the use of to is allowed in (1b), but not in (11b). That is, to can
operate only in the content domain. Another contrast supporting this
domain constraint on to is between (5b) in the content domain and (12b) in
the epistemic domain:
(5)

b. P Qkōen
Kaiin [de areba/dattara/(de no shōtaijō
aru) nara/da to],

member [if.be] lecture GEN invitation

ga todokimasu.

NOM will.arrive

‘If (you’re) a member, an invitation to the lecture will be

forthcoming.’

(12)

a. PIf he’s honest, Qhe’ll tell the truth.

b. P
Moshi kare ga shōjiki [de are ba/dattara/(de aru)
nara/*da to],

if he NOM honest [if.be]

Qhontō no koto o iu deshō.

true GEN matter ACC say COP.CNJ

Unlike the case with causal linkage, the distinction between content and
epistemic conditionals may be nebulous. For example, (13) below can be
categorized as a content conditional because there is a causal relation
between P′ and Q′ in the real world. Nevertheless, it can also be considered

349
as an epistemic conditional because Q′ is the speaker’s inference should P′
be realized. This ambiguity between content and epistemic interpretations
is particularly problematic in an analysis of Japanese, in which
conditionals tend to contain epistemic or inferential expressions in Q.
(13)

a. PIf this heat wave continues tomorrow, Qthe air conditioner will break down
b. PMoshi kono mōsho ga ashita mo [tsuzukeba/tsuzuit

if this heat.wave NOM tomorrow also [if.continue]

tsuzuku nara/tsuzuku to], Qeakon wa kowareru

air.conditioner TOP break

As discussed in Section 9.2, Japanese utilizes a two-way tense system

(past and non-past), rather than three-way (past, present, and future).
Therefore, conjectural (i.e. epistemic) expressions are occasionally
employed to emphasize futurity. Compare (13) with (14), which is clearly
epistemic, and, therefore, prohibits to:
(14)

a. PIf he comes back to work tomorrow, Qthat will be an expression of his apology
b. P
Moshi ashita kare ga shigoto ni dete [kureba/kitara/kur
nara/

if tomorrow he NOM work to enter [if.come]

*kuru Qsore wa kare no shazai no hyōmei

to],

that TOP he GEN apology GEN expression

350
 ‘If he comes to work tomorrow, that will constitute his expression of apology.’

In (14), P′ and Q′ are clearly cotemporal. However, in the speaker’s

mind, they can be sequential; i.e. “If he comes back to work tomorrow, I
will then conclude that he will be expressing his apology.”
Strictly speaking, all content conditionals are also inferential because
conditionality is itself inferential. Nevertheless, I maintain the distinction
between content and epistemic domains because, as illustrated above, it
captures nicely the constraints on to as a conditional marker.
18.3.2 Q′ ≺ P′
A salient difference between epistemic and content conditionals is that the
chronological order of P and Q may be reversed in epistemic conditionals.
There are five possible temporal alignments, as illustrated below. Because
to is categorically incompatible with epistemic conditionality, it cannot
appear in Q′ ≺ P′ configuration either.
(15)

a. PIf she’s asleep now, Qthe medicine worked.

b. P Qkusuri
Moshi ima kanojo ga nete [ireba/itara/iru
nara/*iru to],

if now she NOM sleeping [if.be] medicine

ga kiita [to iu koto da/koto ni naru/hazu da].

NOM worked [it.is.supposed.to.be]

‘If she’s asleep now, it means that the medicine worked.’

This reversed temporal order must be signaled in Q with such

nominalization expressions as to iu koto da ‘it means that’, koto ni naru ‘it
becomes the case that’, and hazu da ‘must be’. (In the following, only to iu
koto da will be mentioned to save space.) It would hardly be interpretable
as intended if the sentence ends in an indicative predicate kiita ‘worked’,
which is possible in English as in (15a).

351
 Consider next (16). Nara is acceptable in (15b), but not in (16b).
(16)

a. PIf she recovers quickly, Qwe gave her the right medicine.
b. P
Moshi kanojo ga sugu yoku [nareba/nattara/*naru nara/*nar
ni to],

if she NOM soon better [if.become]

Qwatashitachi wa tadashii kusuri o ataeta to iu koto da

we TOP right medicine ACC gave it.is.supposed.to

‘If she recovers quickly, it means that we gave her the right medicine.’

This difference reveals an important factor when analyzing conditional

constructions. Speakers utilize conditionals when they are uncertain about
the validity of P′. Funk (1985: 375–76) points out that there are two
sources of uncertainty. One is that the situation in question has not (yet)
been realized, i.e. it is a future situation, so no one is certain of its validity.
The other is that the realization of the situation is verifiable, but the
speaker does not have that information at the time of utterance. P′ in (16)
is an instance of the former (a yet to be realized situation), whereas P′ in
(15) is an instance of the latter (speaker’s ignorance). The generalization is
that the use of nara is appropriate only when P′ is verifiable but the
speaker lacks such information.
In (17), nara is illegitimate because the person’s passing the
examination in the future cannot be verified at the time of utterance. If,
however, in a highly unlikely situation, the speaker has some basis to
assume that the event will likely occur (e.g. speaking with a fortune teller),
nara is possible.
(17)

a.

352
 PIf he passes the exam, Qhe’s smarter than we think.

b. P Qkare
Moshi gōkaku [sureba/shitara/*suru wa watashitachi
nara/*suru to],

if pass [if.do] he TOP we

ga kangaete yori atama ga ii to iu koto da

iru

NOM are.thinking more.than head NOM good it.is.supposed.to.be

‘If he passes the exam, it shows that he is smarter than we think.’

When both P′ and Q′ refer to future time, the acceptability of conditional

connectives is as follows:
(18)

a. PIf she resigns as chair next week, Qshe’ll be successful in appointing a satisfact
at tomorrow’s meeting.
b. P
Moshi raishū kanojo ga gichō o

if next.week she NOM chairperson ACC

shitara/*suru nara/*suru to], Qashita no kaigi

tomorrow GEN meeting

kōninsha ga kimatta [to iu koto da/koto ni naru]

successor NOM selected it.is.supposed.to.be

‘If she resigns from the chairpersonship next week, it is likely that a satisfactor
will be selected at tomorrow’s meeting.’

Now consider (19b), which appears to be a reification of the diagram in

353
(16).
(16)

(19) a. PIf she ends up going to Japan, QI was successful in persuading her.
b. P
Moshi kanojo ga nihon ni [ikeba/ittara/iku
nara/*iku to],

if she NOM Japan to [if.go]

Qwatashi no settoku ga kiita [to iu koto da/koto

ni naru].

I GEN persuasion NOM effective [it.is.supposed.to.be]

‘If she goes to Japan, it means that my persuasion was effective.’

While ba and tara in (19b) are purely hypothetical, nara strongly

implies that the subject referent has already decided to go to Japan, and
that the speaker has some means to obtain that information, for example,
hearing it from the addressee.5 Therefore, nara in (19b) is actually an
instance of the diagram in (15). This is why nara in (19b) is acceptable.
(15)

This verifiability constraint applies even when nara appears in content

conditionals. Consider (2b):
(2)

b. P
Kaihatsu ga ninka [sarereba/saretara/sareru
nara/sareru to],

development NOM approval [if.be.PASS]

354
 Qyasei dōbutsu wa shinitaete shimau.

wild animal TOP will.be.extinct

‘If the development is approved, wild animals will become

extinct.’

If ninka sarereba, saretara, or sareru to ‘if (it is) approved’ is used, the
implicit message is that no one is certain about the realization of P′. In
contrast, ninka sareru nara guarantees that at least some people consider P
′ to be verifiable.
This verifiability of nara is to some extent similar to the use of will in
English conditionals. Will is normally prohibited from occurring in P, as in
(20a). However, when the sentence carries “assumed likelihood”-meaning,
will is accepted as in (20b–20c) (Haegeman and Wekker 1984: 46–48):
(20) a. *PIf it will rain tomorrow, Qthe match will be cancelled.
b. PIf it will rain tomorrow, Qwe might as well cancel the match now.
c. PIf you will smoke a pack a day, Qyou will never get rid of that
cough.
18.3.3 Counterfactual conditionals
Conditionals are used not only when the speaker is uncertain about the
validity of P′, but also when the speaker knows/believes that P′ is false.
Such sentences are called COUNTERFACTUAL CONDITIONALS. The
distinction between the content and the epistemic domain seems to have no
importance in counterfactual conditionals. Nevertheless, because they are
highly inferential, and because the order of P′ and Q′ can be reversed,
counterfactuals can be categorized as a subtype of the epistemic
conditional.
There is no special counterfactual marker in Japanese. Normally,
counterfactual ideas are implied by the conjectural form of the copula
(darō and its polite variation deshō) and/or a concessive connective (e.g.
ni, noni, keredo). The implication is such that if P, then Q, but (because it
is not P, it is not Q). Because counterfactuals are operative in the epistemic
domain, the use of to is prohibited. This constraint is derivable from the
salient characteristic of to to express objective reality. Counterfactual
thoughts are genuinely subjective – no observable traits whatsoever exist
in the reality. In the following diagrams, -P′ marks counterfactuality.

355
(21)

a. PIf he had had talent, Qhe would have continued his career as a pianist
b. P Qkare
Moshi sainō ga [areba/attara/aru wa pianisuto
nara/*aru to],

if talent NOM [if.exist] he TOP pianist

o tsuzukete ita darō (ni).

ACC was.continuing COP.CNJ although

(22)

a. PIf I were you, QI’d be satisfied with it.

b. P
Moshi watashi ga anata [de areba/dattara/(de
aru) nara/*da to],

if I NOM you [if.be]

de manzoku [shita/suru] (noni).

with satisfaction [do] although

‘[Lit.] If I were you, (I’d) be satisfied with it, but …’

c. PIf she had a pleasant personality, Qshe would be liked by everyone.
d. P Qkanojo
Moshi seikaku ga [yokereba/yokattara/ii
nara/*ii to],

if personality NOM [if.good] she

minna ni [sukareta/sukareru] darō (kedo)

356
 everyone by [was.liked/is.liked] COP.CNJ although

‘[Lit.] If her personality were pleasant, she would be liked by everyone,

but …’

It is not obligatory, but in counterfactuals, the tense of Q can be shifted

towards the past. For example, in (22b, 22d), manzoku shita ‘got satisfied’
and sukareta ‘was liked’ can be used to refer to the unrealized present
situation Q′. If these sentences were in the content domain, the use of the -
ta form in Q would be prohibited. For example, (23) below, which is a
content conditional (as shown by the acceptability of to) does not allow the
use of -ta.
(23)

a. PIf her personality is pleasant, Qshe is liked by everyone.

b. P Qkanojo
Moshi seikaku ga [yokereba/yokattara/ii
nara/ii to],

if personality NOM [if.good] she

minna ni [*sukareta/sukareru].

everyone by [was.liked/is.liked]

As in the case of content conditionals, when P′ and Q′ are sequential and

P′ is in the past, -ta nara, not -ru nara, is employed.
(24)

a. PIf you had listened to my advice, Qyou wouldn’t have made such
mistakes.
b. P
Moshi watashi no chūkoku o [kikeba/kiitara/kiita
nara/*kiku nara/

if I GEN advice ACC [if.listen]

357
 *kiku Qsonna shippai wa shinakatta darō (ni).
to],

such mistake NEG- did.not COP.CNJ although

SCP

(25)

a. PIf she had recovered, Qit would have been because we gave her the right medic
b. P
Moshi kanojo ga yoku [nareba/nattara/natta nara/*naru nara/*na
to]

if she NOM well [if.listen]

Qwatashitachi wa tadashii kusuri o ataeta to iu koto datta

we TOP right medicine ACC gave it.was.supposed

noni.

although

18.4 Generic (tenseless) conditionals

Some conditional sentences do not refer to specific situations; instead, they
express general truths or repetitive situations (i.e. whenever P′ happens, Q′
also happens). Such conditionals are called GENERIC or TENSELESS
CONDITIONALS. Being tenseless, the past–now–future sequence is not
designated in the diagrams below. The speaker is, of course, present in the
speech situation, but his/her location is also not encoded because S in our
diagrams is tied to the speech time (i.e. Now). What is retained is only
taxis (sequential or simultaneous relationships; see Section 9.4) between P′
and Q′. Moshi ‘if’ can accompany generic conditionals, but it is less
frequent than in tensed conditionals. There are three possible settings:
(26)

a.

358
 PIf you divide 63 by 3, Qyou get 21.

b. P Q21
63 o 3 de [wareba/wattara/*waru ni naru.
nara/waru to],

ACC by [if.divide] to become

‘If you divide 63 by 3, it will become 21.’

c. PIf you have a car, Qit’s convenient.

d. P Qbenri
Kuruma ga [areba/attara/*aru da.
nara/aru to],

car NOM [if.exist] convenient COP.NPST

(27)

a. PIf you drink coffee at night, Qyou can’t sleep.

b. P Qnemure-
Yoru kōhī o [nomeba/nondara/*nomu
nara/nomu to], nai.

night coffee ACC [if.drink] can.sleep-

not
c. PIf/Whenever he says yes, Qshe always says no.
d. P Qkanojo
Kare ga ii to [ieba/ittara/*iu wa
nara/iu to],

he NOM ok QUOT [if.say] she TOP

kanarazu dame da to iu.

always no COP QUOT say

‘If he says ok, she always says no.’

(28)

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 a. PIf a tsunami occurs, Qthere has been an earthquake somewhere.
b. P Qdokoka
Moshi tsunami ga [okoreba/okottara/*okoru
nara/*okoru to],

if NOM [if.occur] somewhere

de jishin ga atta to iu koto da.

at earthquake NOM there.was it.is.supposed.to.be

‘If a tsunami occurs, it means that there has been an earthquake

somewhere.’

From these examples, we can conclude that nara is incompatible with

generic conditionals.6 This is in accordance with the verifiability
requirement of nara. All instances of P′ in generic conditionals are not
verifiable collectively; therefore, nara is incompatible. To is harmonious
with generics if the statement is in the content domain as in (26b, 26d) and
(27b, 27d), but it is not when in the epistemic domain (evidenced by Q′ ≺
P′), as exemplified in (28b).
18.5 Speech-act conditionals
In speech-act conditionals, P expresses a justification or precondition for
performing the speech-act, namely Q. Because the speaker accomplishes a
given speech act by merely uttering a sentence, the speech act occurs at the
time when Q is uttered. Nevertheless, Q itself can refer to a future
situation. For example, I’ll pay you back tomorrow normally constitutes a
speech act of promise, but the act of paying-back is supposed to occur in
the future. As a connective for expressing objective relationships between
situations, to is totally prohibited in speech-act conditionals.7
When the predicate of P is stative, e.g. (29) and (30), ba, tara, and nara
can be employed:
(29)

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 a. PIf you don’t mind (my asking), Qhow old are you? (questioning)
b. P Qoikutsu
Moshi shitsurei de [nakereba/nakattara/nai
nara/*nai to],

if rudeness COP [if.not] how.old.HON

desu ka.

COP.NPST INT

‘If it is not impolite (to ask), how old are you?’

(30)

a. PIf you want to, Qeat it! (permitting)

b. P Qtabenasai.
Moshi [tabetakereba/tabetakattara/tabetai
nara/*tabetai to],

if [if.want.to.eat] eat.IMP

‘If (you) want to eat (it), eat (it)!’

When the predicate of P is dynamic, P is interpreted as referring to a

future situation (i.e. it is unverifiable), and the use of nara is prohibited.
(31)

a. Pif you get hungry, Qthere are biscuits on the sideboard. (offering)
b. P Qtodana
Moshi onaka ga [sukeba/suitara/*suku
nara/*suku to],

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 if stomach NOM [if.become.empty] sideboard

bisuketto ga arimasu yo.

biscuit NOM there.is SFP

c. PIf a bill collector comes, QI’ve left the money here. (informing)
d. P Qkoko
Moshi shūkinnin ga [kureba/kitara/*kuru
nara/*kuru to],

If bill.collector NOM [if.come] Here

okane o oite okimasu.

money ACC leave

When the predicate of P is dynamic and P′ precedes Q′, only tara is

compatible.
(32)

a. PIf I offended you, QI apologize. (apologizing)

b. P Qayamarimasu.
Oki ni [*sawareba/sawattara/*sawaru
nara/*sawaru to],

nerve to [if.touch] apologize

‘[Lit.] If (what I said) irritated (your) nerve, (I) apologize.’

When P′ is verifiable by the addressee and P′ follows Q′, only nara is

appropriate.
(33)

a. PIf you (want to) become a police officer, Qlearn judo. (advising)

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 b. PMoshi keikan ni [*nareba/*nattara/naru Q
nara/*naru to],

if police.officer to [if.become] Judo

O narae.

ACC learn.IMP
c. PIf you go to the bank, Qplease stop by my office. (requesting)
d. P Qwatashi
Moshi ginkō ni [*ikeba/*ittara/iku no jimusho
nara/*iku to],

if bank to [if.go] I GEN office

ni yotte kudasai.

to please.stop.by

18.6 Summary
A. In the content domain, all four connectives can in principle be
employed.
B. In all content conditionals, P′ must occur prior to or
simultaneously with Q′.
C. To must accompany an objective statement. Because the epistemic
and speech-act domains are inherently subjective, to can be used
only in the content domain.
D. To cannot be used in the content domain when
(i) the statement is subjective (i.e. the speaker is actively
involved in the depicted situation), e.g. (3b).
(ii) P′ occurs in the past and P′ and Q′ are sequentially
aligned, e.g. (6b), (7b), (8b).
(iii) However, when P′ and Q′ are cotemporal, to is
compatible with P′ in the past.
E. Like to, -ru nara is prohibited when P′ occurs in the past and P′
and Q′ are sequential, e.g. (6b), (7b), (8b). However, also like to,
when P′ and Q′ are cotemporal, -ru nara is compatible with P′ in
the past.
F. In the epistemic domain, Q′ can precede P′, (16b), (17b), (18b). In

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 this reversed sequence, Q must be marked with such
nominalization expressions as to iu koto da ‘it means that’, koto ni
naru ‘it becomes the case that’, and hazu da ‘must be’.
G. Uncertainty can be due to futurity (no one is certain) or ignorance
(verifiable by someone).
H. Nara is appropriate only when P′ is verifiable although the speaker
lacks such information, cf. (16b), (17b), (18b).
I. Counterfactual ideas are implied in Japanese by the conjectural
form of the copula darō (and its polite variation deshō) and/or a
concessive connective (e.g. ni, noni, keredo).
J. In counterfactual conditionals, as well as content conditionals,
when P′ is in the past and P′ and Q′ are sequential, -ta nara is used
but -ru nara is prohibited.
K. Nara is prohibited in generic conditionals because P′ is not
verifiable.
L. In speech-act conditionals, P expresses a justification or
precondition for performing the speech-act that is construed with
Q.
M. To is prohibited in speech-act conditionals.
N. When the predicate of P is stative, e.g. (29) and (30), ba, tara, and
nara can be employed.
O. When the predicate of P is dynamic and refers to a future situation
that the addressee cannot verify, the use of nara is prohibited, e.g.
(31b, d).
P. When the predicate of P is dynamic and P′ precedes Q′, only tara
is compatible, e.g. (32b).
Q. When P′ is verifiable by the addressee and P′ follows Q′, only
nara is appropriate, e.g. (33b, d).
1 Exceptional cases are exemplified by Haru ga kure-ba, sakura ga saku
‘When spring comes, cherry trees blossom’, which involves only temporal
sequentiality, not the possibility that spring might not come.
2 For further discussions, see Akatsuka (1985), Arita (1993; 2007), Fujii
(1993; 2004), Hinds and Tawa (1975), Kuno (1973), Maeda (1995), and
Masuoka (1993a; 1997).
3 A sufficient condition P′ for some state of affairs Q′ is a condition that,
if satisfied, guarantees that Q′ also occurs.
4 -Ta nara is also possible in this case as well as in (19b), which is not
discussed in this chapter because it requires an elaborate argument
involving intricate scrutiny of tense, aspect (see Section 9.3), and

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nominalization (see Chapter 15). Although it is an interesting topic, it is
beyond the scope of this book.
5 Newly acquired information takes time to be incorporated in the
person’s brief system, and, therefore, the use of conditionals to express
uncertainty is the norm. See Akatsuka (1985) for further discussion.
6 The use of -ta nara is grammatical, but when -ta nara is used, the
sentence is normally interpreted to be concerned with a specific situation,
rather than generically.
7 An exception is when the utterance is meant to be threatening or
warning, e.g. Ugoku to, utsu zo ‘If (you) move, (I’ll) shoot (you)’
(McGloin 1976).

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Part VI Pragmatics (language usage)

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 19 Speech acts
19.1 Introduction
What if someone says the following to you.
(1)
Anata tomodachi i-nai deshō.

you friend exist-not COP.CNJ

‘You don’t have friends, do you?’

How would you respond? You are able to literally understand this
utterance, but that in itself is insufficient to determine how to react
reasonably. In verbal interaction, the addressee needs to understand not
only the meaning of the sentence, but also what the speaker intends to
accomplish by saying it. In this regard, John Austin (1962) recognized that
when we speak, we simultaneously perform three types of acts. One is a
LOCUTIONARY ACT, the act of uttering a sentence and, by so doing,
conveying what the sentence literally means.
The second kind is an ILLOCUTIONARY ACT, i.e. what we intend to
accomplish by the utterance. The term speech act is normally used to refer
exclusively to illocutionary acts, of which numerous types exist: advising,
agreeing, answering, apologizing, asserting, begging, complimenting,
condoling, confirming, congratulating, declaring (e.g. war), declining (e.g.
an offer), disagreeing, excusing, forbidding, greeting, inviting, making an
excuse, offering, ordering, prohibiting, promising, pronouncing (e.g.
someone guilty), permitting, questioning, requesting, refusing, swearing,
thanking, warning, and so on.
The third is a PERLOCUTIONARY ACT, the reaction of the addressee to
the utterance. More specifically, does the addressee consider the utterance
to be amusing, convincing, distracting, encouraging, irritating, persuading,
realizing, threatening, etc.? Because perlocutionary acts depend solely on
the addressee’s interpretation of the utterance, they may be identical or
different in meaning from that which the speaker intends.
With (1), the illocutionary act might be a genuine question, i.e. the
speaker wants to know nothing more than whether or not the addressee has
any friends. However, this interpretation might well be unrealistic. Even if
it is genuinely motivated, one still wonders why the speaker is eliciting
such information. A more realistic interpretation might be that it is meant

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to be hurtful or even insulting. The speaker may be implying that the
addressee fails to appeal to him/her, is not likable, and therefore has no
friends. (If, however, the tone is playful and light-hearted, then the
utterance would be interpreted to be ironically humorous.) If the addressee
interprets (1) as an insult, s/he will possibly not respond at all or respond
accordingly as in (2a–2c).1
(2) a.
Dōyū imi desu ka?

what.kind.of meaning COP INT

‘What do you mean (by that)?’

b.
Zuibun shitsurei desu ne.

quite impolite COP SFP

‘(You’re) really rude, aren’t you?’

c.
Anata mo deshō?

you also COP.CNJ

‘Neither do you!’

Another possible scenario, although requiring strong contextual support

(e.g. a sympathetic tone), is that the speaker assumes the addressee does
not have friends and s/he is willing to become one. The addressee might
then respond differently as in (2d).
d.
Arigatō.

‘Thanks.’

In order to make the differences clearer, some researchers use the terms
ILLOCUTIONARY FORCE and PERLOCUTIONARY EFFECT rather than
act for all three kinds of speech acts. If someone asks a question, the
addressee may automatically feel obliged to answer, but when s/he is
unable to do so, the tendency is to say I’m sorry, but … That is, the
illocutionary act of questioning has some potential force on the addressee.

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On the other hand, perlocution is more befittingly characterized as an
effect rather than an act because an act is typically conceived of as a deed
controllable by the actor. The addressee’s emotional reaction is most likely
impulsive rather than controlled by reasoning.
Many speech acts prompt a speaker to respond in either one way or
another. Offers can be accepted or refused, opinions can be agreed with or
disagreed with, and requests can be granted or declined. Accepting,
agreeing, and granting are PREFERRED ACTS and expressed
systematically in different ways than their negative alternatives. Preferred
actions can be articulated straightforwardly, but performance of non-
preferred acts typically requires indirectness (evasiveness) and
considerable tact.
The execution of such verbal dexterity inevitably results in utterances
that highlight cultural differences. A well-known anecdote concerns the
speech-act interpretation of Zensho shimasu ‘I’ll do my best’ when said to
Richard Nixon by Eisaku SATO, the then prime minister of Japan, during
his visit to Washington, DC in 1969. At that time, the US–Japan textile
industry trade imbalance was aggravated, and Nixon insisted that Japan
restrain its textile export to the US. Sato responded, Zensho shimasu.
Zensho is a Sino-Japanese noun (see Section 5.1), meaning ‘an appropriate
measure’. Nixon took this as an agreement or promise. However, the
phrase simply guarantees that the speaker will make a best effort, without
necessarily entailing its success. When he learned that Japan had not
moderated its textile export, Nixon reportedly called Sato a liar (Haberman
1988).
Uncertainty in the determination of an intended illocutionary act, as
illustrated by this episode, can be a major hindrance in intercultural and
international communication. The following sections discuss illocutionary
acts that exhibit considerable differences between English and Japanese.
19.2 Apologies
An apology is made when the speaker acknowledges his/her fault or
offence caused by performing or not performing some act. In order to
restore their good relationship, s/he requests pardon from the addressee.
Blum-Kulka and Olshtain (1984) identify the following five apology
strategies:
(3) a. Use an illocutionary force indicator (sorry, apologize, regret,
excuse).

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 b. Acknowledge responsibility (I’m so forgetful; It’s my fault/mistake).
c. Explain the cause of the offence (The bus was late; Traffic is always
so heavy in the morning).
d. Offer reparation (I’ll pay for the damage; I’ll see what I can do).
e. Promise non-recurrence (This won’t happen again).
The speaker selects an appropriate strategy according to (i) the severity
of the offence, and (ii) the relationship with the addressee in terms of
psychological distance, power, age, etc. The degree of seriousness of the
offence is frequently determined by cultural norms. For example, not
arriving at the scheduled starting time for a meeting is a more serious
offence in some cultures than in others. Japanese examples corresponding
to these strategies in (3) are provided in (4).
(4) a.
(Osoku nat-te) sumimasen.

being.late-TE sorry

‘I’m sorry (for being late).’

b.
Subete watashi no sekinin desu.

all I GEN responsibility COP.NPST

‘[Lit.] It’s all my responsibility.’

‘It’s all my fault.’

c.
Basu ga okure-ta mono desu kara …

bus NOM be.delayed-PAST thing COP.NPST because

‘Because the bus was delayed …’

d.
Baishō sase-te itadaki-masu.

compensation do.CAUS-TE receive-NPST.POL

‘Please let me compensate you (for the damage).’

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 e. Kono yō fushimatsu wa nido to okashi-masen.
na

this kind mistake TOP second.time commit-NPST.POL

‘(I promise you) I’ll never make this kind of mistake again.’

(4b–4e) are normally preceded by sumimasen or some other formulaic

apologetic expression. Those sentences that serve as apologies in terms of
explanation of cause, such as (4c), are almost always left incomplete. If the
sentence were completed, it would sound like a mere excuse without a
genuine sense of apology.
Many non-native speakers of Japanese believe that Japanese people, in
general, apologize frequently and on occasions when, in their perception,
no apology is needed. For example, in his translation of TANIZAKI
Jun’ichirō’s Sasameyuki (The Makioka Sisters), Edward Seidensticker
ignored the apologetic shitsurei de gozaimasu keredo ‘it’s rude to ask but’
in the following passage:
(5)
Shitsurei de keredo Sagara- wa dochira ni
gozaimasu san

rude COP.POL but TOP where at

osumai-de irasshaimasu no?

live.HON-TE exist.NPST.HON SFP

‘(It’s rude to ask you, but) where do you live, Mrs. Sagara?’

On this omission Seidensticker commented:

Phrases like “it’s rude to ask you, but …” in this situation are rarely
used because English speaking people are less likely to consider
asking where a person lives to be rude. Therefore, a faithful
translation of such phrases would sound ridiculous. If one prefers to
include it, “May I ask where you live?” will be sufficient
(Seidensticker and Nasu 1962: 67, translation mine).
In Japanese culture, it is indeed considered rude to ask questions
regarding matters that are considered private. These typically include the

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addressee’s name, occupation, family structure, and place of residence.
One might attribute this degree of Japanese sensitivity to privacy as simply
being greater than that of English-speaking people. Some types of
information, e.g. the amount and source of one’s income, are likewise
regarded as confidential in both Japanese and Western cultures. Generally,
confidentiality appears to apply in more areas of Japanese culture than of
Western cultures.
As might be suggested by the above, information appears to be a more
precious commodity in Japanese culture than it is in Western cultures.
Under normal circumstances, when interlocutor A wants to obtain some
information and believes that the addressee, interlocutor B, has access to it,
A expects B to be cooperative and to supply the information insofar as s/he
is able.2 If B does not cooperate, then A will infer that B considers
releasing the information to be indiscreet, impolite, unethical, or
discourteous. However, Ochs Keenan (1976) reports that in Malagasy
society (in Madagascar, an island nation in the Indian Ocean, off the
southeastern coast of Africa), people routinely provide less information
than requested. For example, if asked Where is your mother?, the likely
response is She is either in the house or at the market even when the
respondent knows her exact location (p. 70). Ochs Keenan contends that
such meager responses are motivated by information scarcity: that is, new
information rarely surfaces in Malagasy villages, so if one manages to gain
access to some, one is reluctant to share it with others.
Japanese society is flooded with new information, but until the late
nineteenth century, most people lived their entire lives in small villages, so
it is not surprising that there are many similarities between Malagasy and
Japanese cultures, e.g. avoiding personal reference in conversation,
changing one’s name during one’s lifetime, and making weaker statements
using the double negative nakereba naranai ‘if not X, then not Y’ to
express ‘(you) must do’. If this comparative analysis is valid, then the
Japanese also tend to be reluctant to release information to others.
19.3 Commands
For commands, Japanese has designated verbal forms, although naked
commands are rarely used.
(6) a.
Kaer-e.

return.IMP

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 ‘Go home!’

The verb kaere ‘return’ in (6a) is in the imperative form (see Section
6.1), which carries very strong illocutionary force. In English, by contrast,
the imperative form can be used in a broad spectrum of situations, from
issuing coarse command to offering a suggestion or advice. For example,
if you encounter your colleague, even your supervisor, becoming sick, you
can say Go home! But in Japanese, the imperative form cannot be used in
such a situation; some other expression, e.g. Kaetta-ra (ikaga desu ka)
‘what if you go home?’, must be used. The imperative is normally used
only when the speaker is higher in status than the addressee and commands
the addressee to do something against his/her will.
b.
Kaer-i nasai.

return.ADV do.HON.IMP

‘Go home!’

The sentence in (6b) exhibits another form of the imperative, this time
the adverbial form of the verb being followed by nasai, the imperative
form of the honorific verb nasaru ‘do’. This is softer than (6a), but it can
nevertheless be used only to an addressee who is lower in status, e.g. a
mother to her child.
As discussed in Section 9.2, the simple past or non-past tense forms can
be used for a command.
(7) a.
Doi-ta, doi-ta.

step.back-PAST

‘Step back! Step back!’

b.
Sugu ni tabe-ru.

immediately eat-NPST

‘Eat (it) now!’

In providing instructions, English uses the imperative form, but in

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Japanese, the non-past form is the norm.
(8) a.
Tsugi-ni monitā o tsunagi-masu.

next monitor ACC connect-POL.NPST

‘Next, connect the monitor.’

b.
Nitatta-ra shio o kuwaeru.

when.boiled salt ACC add-NPST

‘When boiled, add salt.’

Strong negative commands can be issued with the negative imperative

forms, illustrated in (9). As discussed in Section 6.4, in casual speech
when the stem of an u-verb ends with /r/, except for pitch accent the
positive and negative imperatives become identical:
(9)
hairi-na hairu-na → hain-na

enter don’t enter

kaeri-na kaeru-na → kaen-na

return don’t return

tsukuri-na tsukuru-na → tsukun-na

make don’t make

19.4 Compliments and responses

The Japanese are said to give compliments less frequently than do
Americans. Therefore, Japanese people may be troubled, even
overwhelmed, by Americans’ frequent compliments. Americans, on the
other hand, can be equally confused by the absence of positive comments
while in the company of Japanese (Barnlund and Araki 1985: 25).
According to Barnlund and Araki, Americans regard most positive
comments as compliments, whereas the Japanese tend to regard many as
flattery.

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 Americans tend to praise appearance, skills, personal traits, and taste, in
that order, whereas Japanese attach the greatest importance to skills, and
then appearance, taste, and personal traits (Barnlund and Araki 1985: 23).
Americans offer explicit praise, while Japanese praise is tentative and
cautious. Interestingly, the closer the relationship, the more likely
Americans are to praise their interlocutors, but the less likely Japanese are
to do the same.
Barnlund and Araki also report that, in their study, both Americans and
Japanese subjects indicated positive feelings towards giving and receiving
compliments (p. 15). I am, however, cautious about this finding. As just
discussed, many Japanese people feel uncomfortable when complimented.
Furthermore, even in American culture, compliments, especially about
aspects of the addressee’s appearance and physique, might be evaluated as
(sexual) harassment. However positive the evaluation, it might be
perceived as a violation of privacy, an area about which outsiders should
not comment.
Ishihara and Cohen (2010: 59–60) categorize common types of response
to compliments into the following five types:
(10) a. Acceptance
– Token of appreciation (Thanks; Thank you.)
– Acceptance by means of a comment (Yeah, it’s my favorite,
too.)
– Upgrading the compliment by self-praise (Yeah, I can play
other sports well too.)
b.Mitigation
– Comment about history (I bought it for the trip to Arizona.)
– Shifting the credit (My brother gave it to me; It really knitted
itself.)
– Questioning or requesting reassurance or repetition (Do you
really like them?)
– Reciprocating (So’s yours.)
– Scaling down or downgrading (It’s really quite old.)
c. Rejection
– Disagreeing (A: You look good and healthy. B: I feel fat.)
d. No response
e. Request for interpretation
– Addressee interprets the compliment as a request (You wanna
borrow this one too?)

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 Because the Japanese tend to consider positive comments as flattery
rather than compliments, accepting them may be judged inappropriate.
Daikuhara (1986: 119–20) reports that 95 percent of Japanese responses to
compliments are avoidance of self-praise, and only 5 percent evince
acceptance and appreciation, restricted to interaction between close
friends. The most common responses are rejection, e.g. ie, ie ‘no, no’ and
sonna koto nai ‘that’s not true’, accounting for 35 percent of all self-praise
avoidance responses. The second most frequent response is a smile or no
response at all (27%). The third type questions the validity, e.g. sō? ‘you
really think so?’ (13%).
Rejecting a compliment appropriately can be difficult for some
American learners of Japanese. In an intermediate Japanese course at the
University of California, Berkeley, some students, in desperation, provided
these strange-sounding responses:
(11) A: [Looking at the homework assignment returned to B]
Ii seiseki desu ne.

good grade COP.NPST SFP

‘You got a good grade, didn’t you?’

B:
Īe, watashi wa baka desu.

no I TOP idiot COP.NPST

‘No, I’m an idiot.’

(12) A:
Ii kutsu desu ne.

good shoes COP.NPST SFP

‘Nice shoes, aren’t they?’

B:
Chūko o kai-mashita.

pre-owned ACC buy-PAST

‘(I) bought pre-owned ones.’

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 (11B) is inappropriate because it completely and too explicitly denies
A’s compliment. It gives the impression that B is unwilling to converse
with A. (12B) is more acceptable than (11B). In fact, if A’s compliment
were about B’s car, many native speakers of Japanese would say
something like (11B). However, if the item is not very expensive,
mentioning it to be second-hand may be a little out of place for Japanese
tastes.
19.5 Invitations and requests
Invitation in its technical sense includes advising, suggesting, etc. Both
inviting and requesting someone to do something are intended to induce an
action that will be performed by the addressee. However, the addressee is
the beneficiary in the former (e.g. Please have some cookies), while the
speaker is in the latter (e.g. Please clean the room). In English, both
speech acts can be expressed by the same grammatical constructions, e.g.
(13).
(13) a. Please sit down.
b. Will you sit down?
c. Would you like to wait here?
By contrast, in Japanese, invitations and requests rarely overlap
formally. Himeno (1991) contrasts the following.
(14) a.
Dōzo suwat-te kudasai.

please sit-TE give.me

‘Please sit down.’

b.
Sumimasen ga, suwat-te kudasai.

sorry but sit-TE give.me

‘I’m sorry, but please be seated.’

While the -te kudasai ‘please do’ construction can be used for both
invitation and request, dōzo ‘please’ can occur only with an invitation, and
sumimasen ga ‘I’m sorry, but’ only with a request. That is, in (14a), the
speaker is advising the addressee to sit down for the addressee’s sake,
whereas in (14b), the speaker is requesting the addressee to sit down

377
because, for example, the speaker is unable to see the stage when the
addressee is standing in front of him/her.
Himeno also points out that most learners of Japanese are taught that -te
kudasai-masen ka ‘would you not’ is a politer form of -te kudasai (p. 76).
However, -te kudasai-masen ka is used only for requesting, not for
inviting. Therefore, non-native speakers tend to make such errors as (15a).
For an invitation, suwatte kudasai or simple verb + masen ka, without
kureru ‘give’, must be used, as in (15b). If more politeness is called for,
the honorific form of the verb should be selected as in (15c).
(15) a. [Offering a chair]
#Suwat-te kudasai-masen ka?

sit-TE give.me-POL.NEG INT

‘Would you please sit down?’

b.
Suwari-masen ka?

sit.POL.NEG INT

‘Why don’t [you/we] sit down?’

c.
Osuwari-ni nari-masen ka?

sit.HON become-POL.NEG INT

‘Would you please sit down?’

Similarly, learners of Japanese are informed that the translational

equivalent of “May I ~” is -te mo ii desu ka. While the former can be used
both for requesting permission and offering a favor, the latter can be used
only for requesting permission (pp. 76–77). Therefore, (16a) is natural, but
(16b) is unacceptable. For making an offer, (16c) is appropriate.
(16) a. May I help you?
b.
#Tetsudat-te mo ii desu ka?

help-TE also good COP.NPST INT

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 ‘May I help you?’
c.
Tetsudai-mashō ka?

help-VOL INT

‘Shall I help you?’

19.6 Refusal
Refusal is undoubtedly one of the least preferred acts. Therefore, direct
refusals (e.g. I refuse, I can’t do it) are rather rare. Beebe et al. (1990: 73)
propose the following classification of indirect refusals.
(17) a. Statement of regret (I’m sorry …; I feel terrible …)
b. Wish (I wish I could help you …)
c. Excuse, reason, explanation (My children will be home that night.)
d.Statement of alternative (I’d rather …; Why don’t you ask someone
else?)
e. Set condition for future or past acceptance (If you had asked me
earlier, I would have …)
f. Promise of future acceptance (I’ll do it next time; I promise I’ll …)
g. Statement of principle (I never do business with friends.)
h. Statement of philosophy (One can’t be too careful.)
i. Attempt to dissuade interlocutor
Threat or statement of negative consequences to the requester
(to refuse an invitation: I won’t be any fun tonight.)
Guilt trip (waitress to customers who want to sit a while: I
can’t make a living from people who just order coffee.)
Criticize the request/requester, insult/attack (Who do you think
you are?)
Request for help, empathy, and assistance by dropping or
holding the request
Let the interlocutor off the hook (Don’t worry about it; That’s
okay.)
Self-defense (I’m trying my best; I’m doing all I can do.)
j. Acceptance that functions as a refusal (unspecific or indefinite
reply, lack of enthusiasm)
k.Avoidance

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 Non-verbal (silence, hesitation, do nothing, physical
departure)
Verbal (topic switch, joke, repetition of part of request
(Monday?), postponement (I’ll think about it), hedging (Gee, I
don’t know; I’m not sure.))
In order to investigate whether or not knowledge of speech-act strategies
in one’s native language is transferred when one communicates in a
foreign language (PRAGMATIC TRANSFER), Beebe et al. (1990)
conducted a study with native speakers of Japanese answering in Japanese
(JJs), native speakers of Japanese answering in English (JEs), and native
speakers of American English answering in English (AEs). Their research
subjects were asked by means of a written role-play questionnaire to
complete conversations in which they responded with refusals to requests,
invitations, offers, and suggestions directed at higher-, equal-, and lower-
status interlocutors. Analyzing the acquired data in terms of sequence,
frequency, and content, they found that pragmatic transfer does occur
frequently. Consider first examples of refusal sequences for declining an
invitation to dinner: I’m sorry (regret), but I already have plans (reason).
Maybe next time (promise of future acceptance). Conversing with persons
of both higher and lower status, AEs tended to begin by expressing a
positive feeling (e.g. thank you, I’d love to go), then regret, followed by
reasons, whereas with a person of equal status, AEs usually began with
regret, followed by a reason. With a person of higher status, JJs and JEs
also began with an expression of regret, followed by a reason. When
refusing someone of lower status, the JJs and JEs tended to be more direct,
not using apology or regret. Beebe et al. also found that the JJs and JEs
frequently used statements of an alternative, but AEs never used this
strategy.
Lee (1998: 154–55) reports that native speakers of Japanese tend to use
interrogative sentences in refusing requests when speaking in Japanese or
in English, confirming pragmatic transfer.
(18) A:
Warui kedo konban zangyō shi-te kure-nai?

bad but tonight overtime do-TE give-NEG.NPST

‘Sorry, but would you work overtime tonight?’

B:
E, konban desu ka?

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 eh tonight COP.NPST INT

‘Oh, tonight?’

(19) A:
Kōgi no nōto kashi-te.

lecture GEN note lend-TE

‘Please lend me (your) lecture notes.’

B:
Dō shi-te?

how do-TE

‘Why?’

Lee (pp. 160–61) contends that such questions are raised in order to find
a convincing reason for refusal and/or to criticize the interlocutor
indirectly for making such a request.
19.7 Thanking
The designated expressions for thanks in Japanese are arigatō ‘thank you’
and its polite variation arigatō gozaimasu. Additionally, expressions of
apology, e.g. (20), are frequently used. This selection aims to reflect the
speaker’s feeling of indebtedness.
(20) a.
Okokoro-zukai osore-irimasu.

thoughtfulness feel.overwhelmed‘

[Lit.] I feel overwhelmed by your thoughtfulness.’

‘Thank you for your thoughtfulness.’

b. [Returning a pen]
Dōmo suimasen deshita.

very sorry COP.PAST‘

[Lit.] I was very sorry.’

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 ‘Thank you very much.’
c. [Thanking a person who gave you a cake]
Warui wa-nē.

bad SFP

‘[Lit.] I feel bad.’

‘I appreciate it.’
d. [Thanking a person who comes to help you move furniture]
Gomen!

‘[Lit.] I’m sorry!’

‘Thanks a lot!’

However, expressions of apology cannot always substitute for thanks

when the person commenting is not directly involved in the situation of
gratitude. For example, apology expressions are inappropriate when
responding to the following utterances.
(21) a.
Gōkaku omedetō-gozaimasu.

passing.exam congratulations-POLITE

‘Congratulations on your passing the exam!’

b.
Ogenki-ni nat-te, yokatta desu ne.

healthy become-TE good COP.NPST SFP

‘I’m glad to see you’ve recovered.’

c.
Yoi goryokō o.

nice trip ACC

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 ‘Have a great trip!’

In response to (21a) and (21b), osore-irimasu ‘I feel embarrassed’ can

be used, but no other expressions of apology. With (21c), none of the
apologetic expressions are appropriate responses. Furthermore, when the
indebtedness is very serious – e.g. giving thanks for a mountain rescue –
Arigatō gozaimasu is appropriate, but expressions of apology cannot be
used.
1 Strictly speaking, an insult is likely to be perlocutional, rather than
illocutional. However, such a theoretical issue does not concern us here.
For our purposes, an illocutionary act can be understood as what the
speaker intends to accomplish by his/her locutionary act.
2 This idea of cooperative behavior was theorized by Paul Grice in his
seminal paper (1975) and is referred to as Gricean Theory of Implicature
(already mentioned in Chapter 15, footnote 3 and Chapter 16, footnote 1).
Refer to any Pragmatics textbook for further information about it.

383
 20 Politeness and honorifics I
20.1 Introduction
Linguistic politeness is considered “political” behavior because it is an
immediate means to avoid conflict, tone down potential aggression, and
ensure smooth interaction. When polite expressions are systematized and
incorporated into the grammar of a language, they are termed
HONORIFICS. (Honorifics are sometimes characterized as fossilized
politeness.) Japanese is well-known for its elaborate honorific system,
which encodes two orthogonal dimensions. One is ADDRESSEE
HONORIFICS, conveying esteem to the addressee; the other is REFERENT
HONORIFICS, when showing esteem to the referent person.1 By “referent
person” is meant the person(s) picked out by an expression such as Alice
Thompson in Alice Thompson is studying Japanese (see Figure 20.1). In
this sentence, Alice Thompson refers to the person whose name is Alice
Thompson. Different expressions can be used to refer to the same person,
e.g. Ms. Thompson, Alice, the person I met yesterday, etc.

Figure 20.1. Addressee vs. referent honorifics.

Two methods are used to show respect to the addressee or to the
referent. One linguistically exalts the person, while the other depreciates
someone (typically the speaker) with respect to the target (honored)
person. The former is referred to as an honorific proper, and the latter
variously as humilifics, humble forms, or non-subject honorifics, which
will be discussed in Section 20.5.
The addressee and the referent can be identical as in Will you come to
the meeting?, with the referent of you also being the addressee. In such a
case, addressee and referent honorifics can be employed simultaneously.
In fact, these two types of honorifics are frequently intertwined in actual
conversation, and some honorific expressions cannot function properly

384
unless the other type is also present in a single sentence, an issue which
will be discussed shortly.
As will be seen in this chapter, the Japanese honorific system is
extremely complex yet purposeful in terms of actual language practice,
reminding me of Sampson’s (1985: 173) remark in Chapter 4, regarding
the Japanese writing system: “One reason why Japanese script deserves its
place in this [Sampson’s] book is as an illustration of just how
cumbersome a script can be and still serve in practice.” For most non-
native speakers of Japanese, the honorific system appears to be nothing
more than pointless complication. However, according to the survey
conducted by the Agency for Cultural Affairs in 2004, 96 percent of
native-speaker respondents answered that honorifics are an indispensable
part of the Japanese language, and, therefore, should be maintained
(Bunkachō 2004).
20.2 Addressee honorifics
20.2.1 Verbs
Addressee honorifics are primarily manifested in the POLITE FORM (or
DESU-MASU FORM) of the predicate, vis-à-vis the PLAIN FORM. The
plain form is appropriate when talking with a friend. When talking with
one’s superior, the use of a polite form is the norm. (The copula is
included in the verb category in this chapter.) Table 20.1 provides
examples.
(1)
Watashi ga renraku [suru/shimasu].

I NOM contact [do.NPST/do.POL.NPST]

‘I’ll contact (them).’

Table 20.1 Plain vs. polite forms of verbs.
Non-past Past

Plain Polite Plain Polite Gloss

da (copula) desu datta deshita be

iku (u-verb) ikimasu itta ikimashita go

kaeru (u-verb) kaerimasu kaetta kaerimashita return

385
 taberu (ru-verb) tabemasu tabeta tabemashita eat

kariru (ru-verb) karimasu karita karimashita borrow

kuru (irregular) kimasu kita kimashita come

suru (irregular) shimasu shita shimashita do

20.2.2 I-adjectives
I-adjectives conjugate like verbs, but they do not have polite forms. It used
be that, in order to show respect to the addressee, gozaimasu, the polite
form of the existential verb aru, was added to the adverbial form of i-
adjectives (see Section 6.3). For example, the adverbial form of hayai
‘early’ is hayaku. When hayaku is followed by gozaimasu, the /k/ in the
adverbial suffix -ku drops, and the resulting succession of vowels /au/
undergoes a euphonic change and becomes hayō gozaimasu. O-hayō
gozaimasu ‘good morning’ is derived from this polite expression. When
the resultant vowel succession is /uu/, it becomes a long /u/, e.g. hikui
‘low’ > hikuku > hikuu >hikū gozaimasu. When the succession is /ou/, it
becomes a long /o/, e.g. hosoi ‘thin’ > hosoku > hosou > hosō gozaimasu.2
The vowel succession /iu/ results in palatalization (see Section 3.1) of the
preceding consonant plus a long /u/, e.g. ōkii ‘big’ > ōkiku > ōkiu > ōkyū
gozaimasu. When the preceding consonant is already palatalized, e.g. /sh/,
no change occurs on the consonant, e.g. oishii ‘delicious’ > oishiku >
oishiu > oishū gozaimasu. Other examples are provided in Table 20.2.
Table 20.2 Plain vs. polite forms of i-adjectives (a).
Plain Polite Gloss Plain Polite Gloss

atarashii atarashū new koi kō thick

gozaimasu gozaimasu

chikai chikō near nurui nurū tepid

gozaimasu gozaimasu

kanashii kanashū sad ureshii ureshū delighted

gozaimasu gozaimasu

Today, because this type of polite form sounds old-fashioned, the copula

386
is commonly added to i-adjectives to express politeness, e.g. omoshiroi
‘interesting’ becomes omoshiroi desu (see Table 20.3). This copula
support originated during the Meiji period (1868–1912) and spread
rapidly, although for some time it was marginalized and even considered
ungrammatical. In 1952, the Deliberative Council of the National
Language, which had been proposing various linguistic reforms to the
government (see Section 4.3), recommended that copula support for i-
adjectives be accepted as grammatically legitimate. Nevertheless, even
today, some speakers still feel uncomfortable adding the copula to i-
adjectives, especially to their past-tense forms, e.g. (2a), and they utilize
different constructions, e.g. (2b).
(2) a.
Kōgi wa [nagakatta/nagakatta desu].

lecture TOP [long.PAST/long.POL.PAST COP.NPST]

‘The lecture was long.’

b.
Kōgi wa nagakatta to [omoimasu/omoimashita]

lecture TOP long.PLAIN.PAST QUOT [think.POL.NPST/think.POL

‘I [think/thought] the lecture was long.’

Table 20.3 Plain vs. polite forms of i-adjectives (b).
Non-past Past

Plain Polite Plain Polite Gloss

kuyashii kuyashii kuyashikatta kuyashikatta vexing

desu desu

oishii oishii oishikatta oishikatta delicious

desu desu

takai takai takakatta takakatta expensive

desu desu

When the copula is followed by a sentence-final particle, the

unnaturalness vanishes. That is, no one would consider (3) to be a

387
marginal construction.
(3)
Sore wa takai desu [yo./ka?]

that TOP expensive COP.NPST [SFP/INT]

‘That’s expensive. / Is that expensive?’

20.3 Referent honorifics

Referent honorifics, the expression of which is more complex than
addressee honorifics, are expressed in verbs, adjectives, and/or nouns.
20.3.1 Verbs
When the honored person is encoded as the subject, special honorific verbs
or complex forms derived from regular verbs are used.
A. Honorific verbs: There are few verbs of this type, in which a
separate verb replaces a regular verb.3 Although few in number,
these honorific verbs are frequently used in conversation.
(4) a.
Okada- wa hogaraka [da/de irassharu].
san

TOP cheerful [COP.NPST/COP.HON.NPST]

‘Ms. Okada is cheerful.’

b.
Okada-san ga [kita/irasshatta].

NOM [come.PAST/come.HON.PAST]

‘Ms. Okada has arrived.’

Irassharu corresponds to ‘come’, ‘go’, or ‘be/exist/stay’.

Meshiagaru is used for ‘drink’, ‘eat’, and ‘smoke (a cigarette)’ –
that is, ‘intake’ in general.
B. O-V ni naru: This formation adds the honorific prefix o- to the
verb adverbial form followed by the particle ni and the verb naru
‘become’. This is the most productive process from which to
derive subject honorifics. Some combine formations A and B; that
is, this process is applied to a different, honorific verb stem (see

388
Table 20.5).4
(5) a.
Okada- wa niku o [tabe-nai/o-tabe ni nar-anai
san

TOP meat ACC [eat-NEG.NPST/eat.HON-NEG.NPST]

‘Ms. Okada does not eat meat.’

b.
Okada- wa kuruma ga [aru/o-ari ni naru].
san

TOP car NOM [exist.NPST/exist.HON

‘Ms. Okada has a car.’

Table 20.4 Honorific verbs.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

da de be taberu meshiagaru eat

(copula) irassharu

iu/yuu ossharu say iru irassharu stay

suu meshiagaru smoke miru goran ni see

naru

iku irassharu go kuru irassharu come

nomu meshiagaru drink omie ni

naru

kureru kudasaru give suru nasaru do

Table 20.5 O-V ni naru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

iu o-ii ni say nomu o-nomi ni drink

naru naru

389
 kau o-kai ni buy aru o-ari ni have
naru naru

iku o-koshi ni go taberu o-tabe ni eat

naru naru

o-ide ni kiru o-meshi wear

naru ni naru

matsu o-machi wait kuru o-koshi ni come

ni naru naru

yobu o-yobi ni call o-ide ni

naru naru

Euphemism is also frequently employed. Instead of o-kai ni naru

‘buy’, o-motome ni naru ‘wish’ may be preferred and considered
more respectful. O-ne ni naru ‘sleep’ is rare; o-yasumi ni naru
‘rest’ is used instead. *O-shini ni naru ‘die’ does not exist; o-
nakunari ni naru ‘disappear’ is used instead; o-kakure ni naru
‘hide’ for ‘die’ is now obsolete.
C. Go-VN ni naru: VN stands for a verbal noun (see Subsection
5.2.1). Table 20.6 provides examples.
(6)
Okada- wa kaigi ni [shusseki shita/go-shusseki ni
san natta].

TOP meeting to [attend.NPST/attend.HON.NPST]

‘Ms. Okada attended the meeting.’

Table 20.6 Go-VN ni naru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

annai go-annai guide kibō go-kibō hope

suru ni naru suru ni naru

hōmon go- visit shusseki go- attend

suru hōmon ni suru shusseki
naru ni naru

390
 kenkyū go- research taizai go-taizai stay
suru kenkyū ni suru ni naru
naru

When a VN does not take the honorific prefix go-, this formation
does not apply.5 Some VNs can take go- but nonetheless cannot
form go-VN ni naru, e.g. go-doryoku ‘endeavor’, go-junbi
‘preparation’, go-kon’yaku ‘marriage engagement’, go-renraku
‘contact’, go-ryokō ‘travel’, go-seikō ‘success’, go-shippai
‘failure’, go-shūshoku ‘obtain employment’.
D. O-V nasaru: Nasaru is the honorific verb corresponding to suru
‘do’. Although all o-V ni naru forms have the o-V nasaru
counterpart, o-V nasaru sounds archaic and less polite than o-V ni
naru. This less polite nuance is due to agentivity (see Section 7.5).
As a general rule, the less agentive, the more polite: for example.
naru ‘become’ is less agentive than nasaru ‘do’.
(7)
Shōgai- o [kangaeru/o-kangae nasaru] nara, go-
nenkin sō

disability- ACC [think.NPST/think.HON.NPST] if consult

pension

‘If you are considering (applying for) a disability pension, please consult u
E. Go-VN nasaru: Unlike go-VN ni naru, go-VN nasaru is highly
productive; most VNs can derive subject honorifics through this
process. Unlike o-V nasaru (formation D), go-VN nasaru does not
possess archaic overtones (see Table 20.7).
Table 20.7 Go-VN nasaru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

doryoku go- make ryokō go-ryokō travel

suru doryoku an suru nasaru
nasaru effort

junbi go-junbi prepare seikō go-seikō succeed

suru nasaru suru nasaru

391
 kon’yaku go- engage shippai go- fail
suru kon’yaku suru shippai
nasaru nasaru
F. VN nasaru: This formation has no restriction on it; it can derive a
subject honorific from any VN verb (Table 20.8). It is considered
less polite than formation E.
Table 20.8 VN nasaru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

meiwaku meiwaku be unten unten drive

suru nasaru annoyed, suru nasaru
bothered,
troubled

konran konran get dokusho dokusho read

suru nasaru confused suru nasaru a
book
G. O-V asobasu/Go-VN asobasu: These forms are extremely polite
and somewhat archaic, but still in use in highly formal situations
(Table 20.9).
Table 20.9 O-V asobasu/go-VN asobasu.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

homeru o-home praise kuru o-koshi come

asobasu asobasu

mukaeru o-mukae greet hōmon go- visit

asobasu suru hōmon
asobasu

miru go-ran see taizai go-taizai stay

asobasu suru asobasu
H. V-(r)are-ru: Another way to form subject-honorifics is to add the
honorific suffix -(r)are to the stem of the verb (Table 20.10). This
is a productive process, but less frequent than the o-V ni naru
(formation B) because, in part, the resulting form of this process is
identical to the passive form (Chapter 12), which can cause

392
 confusion.
(8)
Okada- wa shigoto o [yameta/yamerareta].
san

NOM job ACC [quit.PAST/quit.HON.PAST]

‘Ms. Okada quit her job.’

Table 20.10 V-(r)are-ru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

iu iw-areru say yameru yame- quit

rareru

iku ik-areru go iru i-rareru stay

kasu kas-areru lend miru mi-rareru see

matsu mat-areru wait kuru ko-rareru come

yomu yom- read suru s-areru do

areru

20.3.2 Combination of verb honorifics

Although the bestowing of excessive honor is normally rejected by many
speakers, subject honorifics can be combined to express even higher
degrees of politeness. Not all combinations are possible, and the order of
combination is highly restricted. While inter-speaker variations are
naturally expected, Table 20.11, using the verb nomu ‘drink’, provides my
assessment of the degrees of politeness possible in discourse (formations
C, E, and F are limited to VNs and are not shown).
Table 20.11 Combination of verb honorifics.
A B C D E F G H Combined

Highest + + + o-meshiagari
asobas-areru

+ + o-meshiagari

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 asobasu

+ o-nomi asobasu

+ + + o-meshiagari ni
nar-areru

+ + o-meshiagari ni
naru

+ + o-meshiagari
nasaru (archaic)

+ + meshiagar-areru
≈ o-nomi ni nar-
areru

+ + o-nomi ni nar-
areru ≈
meshiagar-areru

+ meshiagaru ≈ o-
nomi ni naru

+ o-nomi ni naru
≈ meshiagaru

+ o-nomi nasaru
(archaic)

+ nom-areru

Lowest nomu

20.3.3 Adjectives
When an adjective describes a person to be honored, his/her in-group
members (see Subsection 13.2.1), or his/her possessions, an honorific form
of the adjective can be employed. The general rule is to add the honorific
prefix o- to native Japanese adjectives, and the honorific prefix go- to
Sino-Japanese adjectives (even though many of them take o-). Table 20.12

394
provides examples.
(9) a.
Okada-san wa [yasashii/o-yasashii].

TOP [kind.NPST/kind.HON.NPST]

‘Ms. Okada is kind.’

b.
Okada-san wa [yūfuku da/go-yūfuku da].

TOP [affluent.NPST/affluent.HON COP.NPST]

‘Ms. Okada is affluent.’

Table 20.12 Honorific form of i-adjectives.
I-adjectives Na-adjectives

Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

takai o-takai expensive kenkō go-kenkō healthy

da da

utsukushii o- beautiful kirei da o-kirei da beautiful

utsukushii

wakai o-wakai young tassha o-tassha hale

da da

yasashii o-yasashii kind yūfuku go-yūfuku affluent

da da

20.3.4 Nouns
When a noun refers to the respected person, his/her in-group members, or
his/her possessions, an honorific form of the noun can be used (see Table
20.13).
(10) a.
Okada-san no o-jō-san wa bengoshi da.

GEN daughter TOP lawyer COP.NPST

395
 ‘Ms. Okada’s daughter is a lawyer.’
b.
Okada- wa go- de kono hon o o-kaki ni natta
san jibun

TOP self by this book ACC write.HON.PAST

‘Ms. Okada wrote this book by herself.’

Table 20.13 Honorific form of nouns.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

dare donata who musume o-jō-san daughter

kaisha kisha company namae o-namae name

otto go-shujin husband aisha go-aisha favorite

(SJ) car

tsuma okusan wife chosho go- authored

(SJ) chosho book

kao o-kao face jibun go-jibun self

(SJ)

kodomo o-ko-san child jūsho go-jūsho address

(SJ)

20.4 Humilifics
The honorific expressions described above exalt the subject referents;
therefore, they are called SUBJECT HONORIFICS. It is also possible to
show respect to a non-subject referent by demoting the subject referent.
This type of expression is referred to by the term HUMILIFICS, HUMBLE
FORMS, or NON-SUBJECT HONORIFICS. Because it is the shortest,
humilifics is utilized by this book. Subject honorifics do not necessarily
demote non-subject referents, but humilifics necessarily demote the
subject referent. Therefore, humilifics are used mostly when the subject
refers to the speaker him/herself or to a member of the speaker’s in-group.
20.4.1 Verbs

396
A. Humilific verbs: Although there is only a handful of verbs of this
type, they occur frequently in conversation. Ukagau is the
humilific of both iku ‘go’ and kiku ‘hear/listen’; zonjiru/zonzuru is
the humilific for both omou ‘think’ and shiru ‘know’. Other
examples are provided in Table 20.14. In (11), the honored person
is Ms. Okada, who is referred to by the dative NP (see Section 7.2)
in (11a), but by the accusative NP in (11b).
(11) a.
Watashi wa ashita Okada-san ni o-me ni kakaru

I TOP tomorrow DAT meet.HUM.NPST

‘I’ll meet with Ms. Okada tomorrow.’

b.
Watashi wa Okada- o zonji-te imasu
san

TOP ACC know.HUM-TE exist.POL.NPST

‘I know Ms. Okada.’

Table 20.14 Humilific verbs.
Regular Humilific Gloss Regular Humilific Gloss

au o-me ni meet kiku ukagau hear

kakaru

iu/yuu mōshi- say haichō listen

ageru suru

omou zonjiru think shiru zonjiru know

morau itadaku receive yomu haidoku read

suru

chōdai ageru sashi- give

suru ageru

iku ukagau go miru haiken see

suru

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B. O-V suru: O-V (adverbial) plus suru is highly productive (see
Table 20.15).
(12)
Watashi wa Okada- kara hon o o-karishita
san

I TOP from book ACC borrow.HUM.PAST

‘I borrowed a book from Ms. Okada.’

Table 20.15 O-V suru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

au o-ai suru meet yobu o-yobi call

suru

kaku o-kaki write tsureru o-tsure take

suru suru

kasu o-kashi lend kariru o-kari borrow

suru suru
C. Go-VN suru: With verbs containing a Sino-Japanese verbal noun,
prefixing go- plus suru makes the verb humilific productive (see
Table 20.16).
(13)
Watashi wa Okada- o kenkyūjo ni go-annai shita
san

I TOP ACC research.center to guide

‘I guided Ms. Okada to the research center.’

Table 20.16 Go-VN suru.
Regular Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

annai go-annai guide kyōryoku go- cooperate

suru suru suru kyōryoku
suru

hōkoku go- report sōkin go-sōkin send

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 suru hōkoku suru suru money
suru

hōmon go- visit suisen go-suisen recommend

suru hōmon suru suru
suru

20.4.2 Nouns
Nouns also have humilific forms that are used almost exclusively in
written language. Although not productive, humilific prefixes include gu-
‘stupid’, setsu- ‘unskillfulness’ (in Table 20.17 it is realized as set- due to
a euphonic change), and so- ‘inferior’.
(14)
O-chikaku ni okoshi no setsu wa, zehi

near.HON to come.HON GEN occasion TOP by.all.means

set-taku ni mo o-tachiyori kudasai.

house.HUM to also stop.by.HON please

‘When you come to this neighborhood, please stop by my house.’

Table 20.17 Humilific form of nouns.
Regular Humilific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

an gu-an idea kaisha heisha, company

shōsha

chichioya chichi father musuko gu-soku son

(obsolete)

chosho set-cho authored ocha so-cha tea

book

hahaoya haha mother okurimono so-shina gift

jitaku set-taku home tsuma gu-sai wife

(obsolete)

399
20.5 Humilifics as addressee honorifics
Humilific expressions show respect to a non-subject referent by demoting
the subject referent. However, four humilific verbs – itasu ‘do’, mairu
‘go/come’, mōsu ‘say’, and oru ‘be/stay’ – simultaneously show respect to
the addressee as well. Therefore, in modern Japanese, they must be
combined with the addressee honorific masu when occurring in a main
clause. (In classical Japanese, they could occur without masu anywhere.)
In subordinate or embedded clauses, they can occur without masu as in
(15c).
(15) a.
Watashi ga itashi-masu.

I NOM do.HUM-POL.NPST

‘I’ll do (it).’
b.
Watashi wa 3-ji ni mairi-mashita.

I TOP 3-o’clock at go.HUM-POL.PAST

‘I went (there) at 3 o’clock.’

c.
Musume ga mōsu ni wa, hannin wa tsukamatta

daughter NOM say in TOP culprit TOP be.arrested

‘According to what my daughter says, the culprit has been arrested.’

Humilifics are prohibited when the honored target referent is someone

who is considered inappropriate to show respect to linguistically, e.g. the
speaker’s brother as in (16a); however, these four special humilific verbs
can apply to such a person as in (16b) (Bunkachō 2007: 19).
(16) a.
Ashita [sensei/#otōto] no tokoro ni ukagai-masu.

tomorrow [teacher/brother] GEN place to go.HUM-POL.NPST

‘Tomorrow I’ll go to (my) [teacher’s/#brother’s] house.’

400
 b. Ashita [sensei/otōto] no tokoro ni mairi-masu.

tomorrow [teacher/brother] GEN place to go.HUM-POL.NPST

‘Tomorrow I’ll go to (my) [teacher’s/brother’s] house.’

This difference is due to the fact that ukagau in (16a) is a pure humilific,
which necessarily exalts a non-subject referent, whereas mairu in (16b) is
humilific qua addressee honorific. Moreover, these special humilifics can
be used with non-human subjects.
(17) a.
Ma mo naku densha ga mairi-masu.

soon train NOM come.HUM-POL.NPST

‘A train will arrive soon.’

b.
Asoko ni inu ga ori-masu.

over.there at dog NOM exist.HUM-POL.NPST

‘There is a dog over there.’

20.6 Beautification
The honorific prefix o- can be used to show one’s linguistic refinement,
not only to show respect to the addressee or to the referent. This use of o-
is called BEAUTIFICATION, which is different from the use of o- in
referent honorifics (see Subsection 20.3.4). Some examples are provided in
Table 20.18.
(18) a.
Koko ni [Okada- no o-namae o kaki-mashita
san/#watashi]

here at GEN name.HON ACC write-POL.PAST

‘I’ve written [Ms. Okada’s/#my] name here.’

b.
Kore wa [Okada- no o- desu
san/watashi] cha

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 this TOP GEN tea COP.POL.NPST

‘Is this [Ms. Okada’s/my] tea?’

Table 20.18 Beautified nouns.
Plain Honorific Gloss Regular Honorific Gloss

cha o-cha tea mizu o-mizu water

kane o-kane money sake o-sake alcohol

kome o-kome rice tera o-tera temple

In (18a), because o-namae ‘name’ is a referent honorific, it cannot be

used for the speaker him/herself. By contrast, o-cha ‘tea’ in (18b) is a
beautified noun, so it can be used when it belongs to oneself.
Beautification is more frequently used by women than by men, and some
beautified nouns are almost exclusively used by women or by workers in
service industries, e.g. o-bīru ‘beer’, o-daidokoro ‘kitchen’, o-hana
‘flower’, o-kaimono ‘shopping’, o-kōcha ‘black tea’, o-kusuri ‘a
medicine’, o-seki ‘seat’, o-tabako ‘cigarette’, o-toire ‘rest room’, o-
tomodachi ‘friend’.
20.7 Honorifics as an indication of refinement
Referent honorifics (HON) can be used independently of addressee
honorifics (POL). For example, (19a) is in the polite style with a referent
honorific [+HON, +POL]; (19b) is also in the polite style but without a
referent honorific [–HON, +POL]; (19c) is in the plain style with a referent
honorific [+HON, –POL]; (19d) is in the plain style without a referent
honorific [–HON, –POL].6
(19) a.
Tanaka- ga irasshai-mashita. [+HON, [polite
san +POL] style]

NOM come.HON-PAST.POL

‘Ms. Tanaka has arrived.’

b.
Tanaka- ga ki-mashita. [−HON, [polite
san +POL] style]

402
 NOM come-PAST.POL
c.
Tanaka- ga irasshat-ta. [+HON, [plain
san −POL] style]

NOM come.HON-PAST
d.
Tanaka- ga ki-ta. [−HON, [plain
san −POL] style]

NOM come-PAST

Today, linguistic politeness is considered a political behavior. In

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Western society, however, linguistic
politeness was not correlated with a consideration for or deference shown
toward other individuals (Watts 1992). Politeness meant prudence,
inextricably linked to social class and sociopolitical power. Politeness was
considered a manifestation of a high degree of mental cultivation, elegant
refinement, polished manners, and good taste. It was used to enhance one’s
own social standing and to signal membership in a particular social class
(Sell 1992).
This older sense of politeness must be acknowledged when considering
honorifics in contemporary Japanese. For example, in (20), the addressee
and the person referred to by the covert subject of the honorific verb
irassharu ‘come’ are identical, yet the speaker uses only a referent
honorific without an addressee honorific.
(20)
Ashita irassharu?

tomorrow come.HON.NPST

‘Will (you) come tomorrow?’

This seemingly inconsistent combination referring to the same

individual is commonly associated with so-called women’s language
(Chapter 28). It indicates the affective stance of the speaker: she considers
the addressee psychologically close, so no addressee honorific is used, but
she nevertheless prefers to apply a referent honorific to display her
linguistic refinement.7

403
1 See Hasegawa (2006) for further discussion of these two types of
honorifics.
2 The stem of the i-adjective tōi ‘far’ already contains a long vowel.
Therefore, it creates a succession of three /o/s: tōi > tōku > tōu > tooo
gozaimasu.
3 This phenomenon is referred to as SUPPLETION in linguistics.
4 There are idiosyncrasies in the usage of formation B. For iu ‘say’, o-ii ni
naru is possible, but ossharu (formation A) is by far more common. For
nomu ‘drink’, both meshiagaru (A) and o-nomi ni naru (B) are common,
but for taberu ‘eat’, o-tabe ni naru (B) is less common than meshiagaru.
For iku ‘go’, o-iki ni naru (B) is possible, although much less common
than o-ide ni naru/o-koshi ni naru (A + B). By contrast, for kuru ‘come’,
*o-ki ni naru (B) does not exist. For kiru ‘wear’, o-ki ni naru is possible,
but o-meshi ni naru (A + B) is more common. *O-mi ni naru ‘see’ and *o-
i ni naru ‘be/stay’ do not exist.
5 As a rule, native Japanese words take the honorific prefix o-, whereas
Sino-Japanese words take the honorific prefix go-. However, some Sino-
Japanese words, typically those referring to domestic items and activities,
take o-, e.g. o-genkan ‘entrance’, o-genki ‘healthy’, o-kagen ‘health
condition’, o-keshō ‘(cosmetic) makeup’, o-ryōri ‘cooking’, o-sanpo ‘a
walk’, o-sentaku ‘laundry’, o-shōgatsu ‘the first month of the year’, o-
shokuji ‘eating’ o-sōji ‘cleaning’.
6 It is not the case that the polite style consists merely of an addition of an
addressee honorific to the plain style as the examples in (19) might
suggest. These two styles are governed by different discourse principles,
and what can be acceptably articulated varies, depending on the style
(Suzuki 1997). For example, one can say Kore ageru ‘I’ll give this to you’
in the plain style, but expressing the same idea in the polite style, Kore
agemasu, is customarily unacceptable because ageru is closer to the
meaning of ‘donate, bestow, make a present of’ than ‘to give’ in English,
i.e. someone who is well off gives/donates something to someone less
fortunate (see Section 13.4). Its use, therefore, is inappropriate in polite
conversation.
7 The opposite combination, Ashita kimasu?, i.e. with an addressee
honorific but not with a referent honorific, does not have the same
implication.

404
 21 Politeness and honorifics II
21.1 Introduction
This chapter continues the discussion of the relationship between
politeness and honorifics. It begins by introducing Brown and Levinson’s
highly influential politeness theory as well as the main objections to it, and
then addresses three problems surrounding the theory when applied to the
Japanese honorific system. At that point, I propose some modifications to
enhance its analytical framework in addition to an alternative
conceptualization of politeness.
Brown and Levinson (1978/1987) contend that speakers choose to
manifest politeness to minimize the risk of incurring a FACE-
THREATENING ACT (FTA). They posit two types of face as universal
notions: negative and positive. NEGATIVE FACE is defined as “the want of
every ‘competent adult member’ that his actions be unimpeded by others,”
and POSITIVE FACE as “the want of every member that his wants be
desirable to at least some others” (p. 62). Orders and requests, for instance,
are inherently intrusive and, therefore, they potentially threaten the
addressee’s negative face, whereas disapproval and criticism are
unfavorable reactions to the addressee’s ideas or deeds and, consequently,
are likely to threaten the addressee’s positive face.
Brown and Levinson propose five politeness strategies: (i) not to do an
FTA; (ii) to go off the record (i.e. giving only a hint); (iii) to use negative
politeness (≈ showing deference); (iv) to use positive politeness (≈
appealing to intimacy, friendliness, and/or camaraderie); and (v) to do an
FTA without redressive action (i.e. to say straightforwardly what one
wants to accomplish). Based upon the social distance between speaker and
addressee, the relative power difference between them, and the rank of
imposition intrinsic to the FTA itself in a particular culture, the speaker
chooses one of these options according to his/her calculation of the
seriousness of the FTA. The riskier the FTA, the lower the number of the
politeness strategy the speaker tends to employ (see Figure 21.1).

405
Figure 21.1. Strategies for doing FTAs.
To illustrate how their theory works, consider a situation in which you
want a pay raise. If you think that requesting it could possibly result in
dismissal, you might refrain from pursuing what may well be a risky act.
In other words, you select Strategy (i), not to do an FTA. However, if you
decide to take this path, you are unlikely to have your wish met. Other
examples in Japanese are provided in (1).
(1) ii. Off-the-record strategy [intention: pay-raise request]
Sumimasen ga, watashi wa koko 3-nen shōkyū ga

sorry but I TOP this 3-years pay.raise NOM

nain desu ga

not COP.POL.NPST but

‘I’m sorry, but I haven’t received a pay rise in three years.’

iii. Utilize negative politeness
Anō konna koto o iu no wa totemo kokoro-gurush

well this.kind thing ACC say NMLZ TOP very heart-painful

no desu ga, kyūryō o sukoshi age-te

NMLZ COP.POL.NPST but wage ACC a.little raise-TE

itadake-masen deshō ka?

receive-not.POL COP.POL.CNJ INT

‘I’m awfully sorry to say this, but may I have a small pay rise?’

406
 iv. Utilize positive politeness
Nē shachō, motto ganbaru kara, kyūryō chotto

hey boss more make.effort because wage a.little

‘Uh, Chief, I’ll make more of an effort, so raise my salary, please.’

v. Do an FTA without redressive action
Oi, kyūryō age-ro yo.

hey wage raise-IMP SFP

‘Hey, raise my salary.’

In (1ii), the speaker does not assert that s/he wants a pay rise, but merely
implies it by giving a reason, viz. not having received any raise in three
years. Because the utterance does not carry the illocutionary force of
request (see Section 19.1), the addressee can take it at face value and
respond I’m sorry to hear that and do nothing. That is, the speaker might
end up with failing to obtain a pay rise. On the other hand, if the situation
turns tense, the speaker can defuse it by indicating that a pay rise was not
exactly what s/he intended to convey. In (1iii), the speaker explicitly
requests a pay rise, but softens (redresses) it by acknowledging the
addressee’s negative face, i.e. the want of his/her action unimpeded by
others. (1iv) is also an explicit request, but emphatically acknowledges the
addressee’s positive face. In a small company, for instance, where the
owner and employees are working closely together like a family,
emphasizing this closeness qua openness can mitigate the degree of face
threat. (1v) exhibits such openness one step farther. If the speaker is
helping his/her friend’s business prosper, this utterance might be
appropriate and effective.
Brown and Levinson’s approach is extremely insightful for investigating
nebulous politeness phenomena in the world’s languages, and,
consequently, it has influenced virtually all research on politeness and
related topics since its publication. The inclusion of positive politeness is
particularly noteworthy because in ordinary language, politeness is
conceived of as the opposite of intimacy, friendliness, or camaraderie.
However, when politeness is interpreted as consideration for the

407
addressee’s face wants, the latter should also be included in human polite
behaviors.
21.2 Objections to Brown and Levinson’s theory
The inadequacy of Brown and Levinson’s theory in accounting for
Japanese politeness phenomena has for decades instigated intense debate.
Ide (1982, 1989), for example, forthrightly criticizes their theory for
dealing exclusively with politeness as a strategic move to minimize the
impact of an FTA while totally neglecting what she claims are socially
obligatory linguistic choices. She contends that the purpose in using
honorifics is not exclusively to save face, because honorifics occur even
when no FTA is involved. Consider, for example, (2), the content of which
is unlikely to be face threatening; nevertheless, the addressee honorific is
utilized:
(2)
Chikyū wa marui desu.

earth TOP round COP.POL.NPST

‘The earth is round.’

Ide uses the term VOLITION to refer to the strategically motivated

practice of politeness and DISCERNMENT (WAKIMAE) for polite behavior
that conforms to the culturally prescribed norm, which is “independent of
the speaker’s rational intention” (Ide 1989: 242). For her, volition-based
politeness serves to save face, in accordance with Brown and Levinson,
but discernment-based politeness is like a grammatical requirement,
forming a socio-pragmatic concordance system. Therefore, Ide argues,
Brown and Levinson’s model, which deals only with one aspect of the
politeness phenomena, is incomplete. She further argues that volition-
based politeness prevails in Western societies while discernment does so in
Japanese society.
To test this claim experimentally, Ide et al. (1992) investigated Japanese
and American notions of politeness, asking their Japanese and American
participants to associate ten adjectives with the most appropriate scene
from fourteen interactional situations. The results suggested that the
Americans tended to equate polite with friendly whereas the Japanese did
not because they judged teineina (usually translated as ‘polite’) and
shitashigena ‘friendly’ as categorically distinct. Ide et al. offer these
findings as evidence supporting their claim that notions of politeness differ

408
in American and Japanese cultures.
21.3 Counter-arguments to Ide’s theory
Fukada and Asato (2004) effectively refute Ide’s idea of discernment-
based politeness as equivalent to grammatical concordance by
demonstrating that discernment is not obligatory in the same sense that a
grammatical feature such as concordance is. In a depiction of a person’s
dishonorable act, they show that the use of honorifics is inappropriate even
when the person is in a position customarily deserving of honorifics, and
offer, as evidence, the following sentence:
(3)
??Sensei ga dōkyūsei o gōkan nasatta

Teacher NOM classmate ACC assault do.HON.PAST

‘My teacher assaulted [honorific] my classmate.’

Fukada and Asato further argue that Brown and Levinson’s model can
adequately account for Japanese politeness phenomena if one
acknowledges that Japan is principally a vertical as well as hierarchical
society.1 That is, power and distance in Brown and Levinson’s weightiness
formula for measuring the seriousness of an FTA receive markedly high
values, and thus the overall significance of an FTA is inevitably elevated
regardless of the severity of imposition intrinsic to the FTA itself. This is
why, they assert, honorifics are used even in non-FTA utterances. For this
and other reasons, Fukada and Asato argue that Brown and Levinson’s
theory is superior to Ide’s, and, consequently, there is no need to posit a
separate politeness category such as discernment.
Another problem with Ide’s dual category account is pointed out by
Eelen (2001), who argues that Ide, like most other researchers in the field,
assumes impoliteness to be the lack of politeness. Consequently, if an
ability to use honorifics were like grammatical competence, impoliteness
would have no place in Japanese society. That is, if one failed to use
honorifics properly, it should then be taken as an indication of socio-
pragmatic incompetence, rather than as deliberate impoliteness, which, of
course, is not always the case.
21.4 Honorifics and politeness
Many aspects of Ide’s objection to Brown and Levinson’s
conceptualization of linguistic politeness as a universal notion appear

409
refutable. Nevertheless, it is worth considering a further investigation of
honorific language as fossilized and grammaticized politeness in relation
to Brown and Levinson’s modern, open-ended politeness strategies.
As explained in Section 20.1, the Japanese honorific system consists of
two orthogonal dimensions: addressee honorifics (polite style vis-à-vis
plain style) and referent honorifics. While Ide essentially equates Japanese
linguistic politeness with the polite style, many researchers have pointed
out that the polite style cannot always be equated with polite intention of
the speaker towards the addressee; see, for example, Ikuta (1983),
Maynard (1991), Okamoto (1997), Pizziconi (2003), and Cook (2006).
Honorifics can sometimes also be interpreted as unfriendly, standoffish,
haughty, or rejecting. Nevertheless, it is crucial to note that, in Japanese,
deference cannot be expressed without employing the polite style. For
example, Dare da ‘Who are you?’ (plain style) cannot convey the
speaker’s intention of deference in any circumstance. This fact would
indirectly support Ide’s (1991: 64) contention that “[f]or the Japanese
people, linguistic politeness is mainly a matter of conforming to social
conventions for a choice of linguistic forms,” although the reality is far
more complex than she suggests.
Ikuta (1983: 37) proposes that the basic meaning of the polite style
involves neither politeness nor formality, but rather distance that may be
social or attitudinal.2 However, analyzing the polite style as directly
motivated by distancing is unsatisfactory for the following reason.
Addressee honorifics in Japanese are normally employed when the speaker
considers the addressee psychologically distant and/or the speaker wishes
to show deference to the addressee.3 As a result, addressees are
dichotomized linguistically into (i) distant and exalted (i.e. shown
deference to), and (ii) intimate and not exalted. (Other factors are also
involved in the selection of the speech style, e.g. the mode of
communication and the degree of formality of the speech situation.) For
(i), the norm is the use of the polite style; for (ii), it is the plain style. In
situation (B) in Table 21.1, where the speaker considers the addressee
psychologically distant but exaltation superfluous, the plain style is
normally used, and the speech may sound vulgar or impolite, as in Dare da
‘Who are you?’ and Hairu na ‘Don’t enter!’ (The situation labeled (A) is
problematic and will be discussed in Section 21.6.)
Table 21.1 Dichotomy of addressees.
Addressee Intimate Distant

410
 Exalted (A) (i) Polite style

Not exalted (ii) Plain style (B) Plain style

As Table 21.1 shows, the notion of distance can be expressed by either

the polite or plain style. Therefore, Ikuta’s claim that the basic function of
addressee honorifics is simply to indicate the speaker’s conception of
distance is not adequate to explain their use.
21.5 Problems with Brown and Levinson’s theory
21.5.1 Combining positive and negative politeness
Japanese honorifics, and possibly honorifics in most languages, conflate
notions of distance and deference. They are used when addressing an
unfamiliar person based on psychological distance, or in the case of an
addressee of a higher social ranking to show deference. While the
exhibition of deference is undoubtedly relevant to the central meaning of
politeness, distancing is not inherently a polite behavior. Distancing can
nevertheless be combined with deference to effectively enhance the
speaker’s politeness.
When interpreted as a reflection of polite intent, distancing (avoidance
of intrusion into the addressee’s space) can properly be categorized as a
negative politeness strategy. However, giving deference is problematic.
Brown and Levinson generally associate deference with negative
politeness, but they also acknowledge that it satisfies an addressee’s
positive want to be treated as superior. In fact, when honorifics are not
utilized as the addressee anticipates, it is the addressee’s positive face that
is damaged. If distancing indicates negative politeness but showing
deference indicates positive politeness, then the use of honorific language
necessarily mixes both strategies, thus rendering Brown and Levinson’s
theory inadequate in accounting for honorifics.
21.5.2 One strategy per FTA
In relation to the above, a second problem that arises with Brown and
Levinson’s theory involves the split between positive and negative
politeness along a single dimension and on a per-FTA basis. Recall their
ranking of the politeness strategies: (i) not to do an FTA; (ii) to go off the
record; (iii) to use negative politeness; (iv) to use positive politeness; and
(v) to do an FTA without redressive action. According to them, the riskier
the FTA, the lower the strategy the speaker tends to select.

411
 However, when honorifics are available in the language, positive and
negative politeness strategies are frequently, even routinely, implemented
in tandem. For example, the PRE-SEQUENCES4 of making a request in the
following utterances demonstrate the use of positive politeness in form and
negative politeness in content, as in (4), and the reverse, as in (5).
(4)
Aki- itsumo itsumo tanon-de bakkari gomen ne. Demo
chan, de

always request-TE only sorry SFP but

kōyū kotot-te Aki- igai, chotto tanomenain

chan

this.kind.of thing-QUOT other- a.little cannot.request

than

yonē. Sorede, …

SFP so

‘Aki, I’m so sorry to ask you for favors all the time, but there’s no one else.
So …’
(5)
Kondo no kōshō wa, nankō ga yosoku sarerun

this.time GEN negotiation TOP difficulty NOM can.be.anticipated

desu yo-ne. Sokode, yūben de, katsu, kado ga tatanai kata

COP SFP then eloquent and inoffensive person

to yahari Kōriyama- de wa nai ka to

naru san
to,

if as- COP.TE TOP not INT QUOT

expected

‘We anticipate problems with our next negotiation. So, we need someone

412
 who will not offend while being effective. So, as you know, it ought to be
Koriyama-san …’

In the first sentence in (4), the use of the plain form as well as the
hypocoristic (i.e. a term of endearment) suffix ‑chan indicate the speaker’s
desire to display positive politeness (here, intimacy). By contrast, the
semantic content indicates negative politeness, viz. apologizing for
intrusion. In (5), the use of verbal honorifics and kata ‘person’ (an
honorific variation) indicate negative politeness (i.e. deference), but the
content aims at positive politeness, viz. praising Koriyama’s tactfulness.
Mixing positive and negative politeness strategies is quite normal in
Japanese. This fact raises a serious question regarding the fundamental
conceptualization of Brown and Levinson’s positive and negative
politeness strategies, i.e. regarding positive and negative politeness as
mutually exclusive concepts. This appears to be unjustifiable because there
is no intrinsic reason for a speaker to appeal to only one facet of the
addressee’s face wants.
Brown and Levinson themselves acknowledge this problem, aware that
their strategies can be mixed in discourse, providing as examples positive
politeness markers embedded within negative politeness strategies as well
as indirect requests or going off-the-record in positive politeness
utterances (p. 17). Their defense consists of pointing out that a segment of
talk might contain FTAs with different levels of intrinsic imposition
(abbreviated as R), which, in turn, motivate multiple strategies. They also
caution that hint-like utterances might actually be on the record if there is
no ambiguity or vagueness of their interpretation in particular contexts.
Further, they argue as follows:
[O]ne possible source of confusion here is this: when describing
positive politeness … we included the use of “markers” of social
closeness, like intimate address forms; and when describing negative
politeness … we included the use of “markers” of deference like
honorifics. Now, although address forms and honorifics may … be
FTA-sensitive … on the whole such elements are tied relatively
directly to the social relationship between speaker and addressee. The
consequence of such direct “markers” of social relationship is that
they may occur with an FTA of any R-value, and thus equally with
markers of positive and negative politeness; if shifts are permissible
at all, we should merely expect a shift towards a more “formal”
address form than normally used … when R-values increase between

413
 the same interlocutors. Thus, certain aspects of, for example, positive
politeness like “intimate” address forms may happily occur in off-
record usages motivated by high R factors. What we did not expect,
and have not found, is that there might be a shift to more “intimate”
address forms with an increase in R
(p. 18).
Brown and Levinson insist that the speaker must select one and only one
strategy per FTA from their ranked strategies. They assert that in order to
refute their one-dimensional and mutually exclusive ranking of strategies,
one needs to show that an opposing ranking is possible.
Despite the various deviations from our expected hierarchy that have
emerged from some of these experimental tests, no one (to our
knowledge) has come up with clear evidence of a counter-ranking:
where (for example) positive politeness is used for greater FTAs,
negative politeness for smaller ones, or where off record is used for
smaller FTAs (or to lower-status Hs [hearers]) than negative or
positive politeness
(p. 20).
Genuine counter-examples do in fact exist.
(6) [A response to the survey question on how to call one’s mother]5
Ima demo sō desu keredo, “okāsan” desu.

now even same COP.POL.NPST but mother COP.POL.NPST

o nedaru toki dake, “X-chan” to yobi-masu

ACC beg when only QUOT call-POL.NPST

‘I still call her okāsan (‘mother’). But when I ask her for money, I call her

For the sake of this discussion, let us assume that the respondent in (6) is
a male and his mother’s name is Michiko. He usually (i.e. for FTAs with a
lower R) addresses his mother as okāsan, but when he asks her for money
(a higher R), he calls her Michiko-chan, which is a less formal and a more
intimate address form than okāsan. It is significant that this positively
marked address term with ‑chan – rather than a negatively marked (i.e.
distancing) address term, e.g. ‑sama, which is also possible as Brown and
Levinson predict – can be used here when a higher R is involved. I argue

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that Brown and Levinson’s one-dimensional and mutually exclusive
ranking of strategies is untenable because there is no a priori reason to
assume one strategy per FTA.
21.5.3 Risk avoidance as the sole motivation for
politeness
Because politeness is a complex phenomenon, positing minimization of
the risk of an FTA as the sole reason for striving to be polite appears to be
an oversimplification. As a language user, I may apply a politeness
strategy driven by affection, particularly when I select a positive-politeness
strategy as occurs in (7).
(7) [To a person who recently lost her spouse]
Hontō o-tsurai koto de nē. Demo, dōzo
ni gozaimashita

really difficult.HON think COP.POL.PAST SFP but please

o shikkari o-mochi ni nat-te, ganbatte kudasaimase.

ACC firmly have.HON-TE be.persistent.HON.POL

‘It must be really difficult (for you), but please keep your spirits up.’

When someone makes a statement like this, s/he is likely overwhelmed

by a devastating situation and is trying to express his/her sympathy
towards and for the addressee. Minimizing the potential risk of the FTA
would be the least concern in such a situation.
21.6 Reconciling Brown and Levinson’s theory
and Japanese politeness
I have pointed out that Brown and Levinson’s theory encounters three
problems when applied to Japanese politeness phenomena. First,
identifying the use of honorifics categorically with negative politeness is
untenable because honorifics typically indicate both distance and
deference. While distancing can properly be considered a negative
politeness strategy, showing deference satisfies the addressee’s positive
face want. Second, dichotomizing positive and negative politeness as
mutually exclusive concepts is unjustifiable because there is no inherent
reason for the speaker to appeal to only one facet of the addressee’s face

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wants. Third, positing minimization of the impact of an FTA as the sole
motivation for politeness is simplistic as well as counter-intuitive; positive
politeness can naturally be triggered by affection. The following
subsections consider three approaches that appear to be useful in
reconciling these problems.
21.6.1 Robin Lakoff’s theory
Robin Lakoff’s (1973, 1990) theory of politeness regards polite behavior
as attempts to make the addressee feel good. She posits three rules for
accomplishing this goal: (a) don’t impose, remain aloof (distance); (b) give
options (deference); (c) make the addressee feel good by being friendly
(camaraderie). Her theory captures the insight that while distance and
camaraderie are mutually contradictory by nature, distance and deference
are not, nor are deference and camaraderie.
In this framework, the use of honorifics can be regarded as triggered by
either the distance rule or by the deference rule. Therefore, utterance (4)
above can be analyzed in such a way that its form signals the speaker’s
observation of the camaraderie rule, whereas its content signals the
deference rule. In (5), the form signals the deference rule, and the content
signals the camaraderie rule.
In this way, the dichotomy of mutually exclusive positive and negative
politeness strategies, which cannot satisfactorily accommodate honorifics,
can be avoided. In adopting Lakoff’s theory, however, the term
camaraderie needs to be extended to intimacy, for the former strongly
evokes the notion of rapport among friends. Recall that politeness and
friendliness are well correlated in American culture, but the Japanese
concepts teineina and shitashigena are distinct and frequently
contradictory (Section 21:2). The term intimacy, on the other hand, does
not have to be limited to rapport among equals. Developing Lakoff’s idea
further may lead to a meaningful cross-cultural comparison that Brown
and Levinson’s theory fails to facilitate.
21.6.2 Honorifics as a different politeness mode
Can honorifics be considered as a different politeness mode, that is, one
that is neutral with respect to Brown and Levinson’s open-ended negative
and positive politeness strategies? If so, honorifics can be employed
independently of positive or negative politeness strategies. Brown and
Levinson allude to this possibility in the quotation in Subsection 21.5.2
above, where they assert that honorifics are associated more directly and
tied more strongly to the social relationship of interlocutors, and, therefore,

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are more stable and less sensitive to R values.
This remedy is superficially identical with Ide’s proposal of separating
volition-based and discernment-based politeness. However, their
psychological underpinnings are quite different. Ide considers that these
two types of politeness are triggered by different motivations: volition
politeness is used strategically to minimize the impact of an FTA while
discernment politeness is used to show one’s willingness to conform to the
culturally prescribed norm. By contrast, Brown and Levinson would argue
that both are motivated by the same principle, viz. the speaker’s desire to
minimize the risk of an FTA. These two are certainly legitimate arguments
and merit further scrutiny.
21.6.3 Modifying Brown and Levinson’s theory
I contend that Brown and Levinson’s claim regarding negative and
positive face is universally valid. However, attributing all senses of
politeness to a single motivation, i.e. minimizing the risk of an FTA, is
unwarranted parsimony.
Furthermore, allowing one and only one strategy per FTA from their
ranking is an unreasonable restriction. All competent language users have
both negative and positive faces. However, we are also aware that being
totally free of impediment from other people hinders attainment of positive
face. Therefore, people somehow balance these competing wants. Given
this, it is more natural to assume that speakers consider both types of
addressees’ desires together. Consequently, if there are linguistic resources
available to perform negative and positive politeness simultaneously, it is
logical to combine the two.
I hypothesize that at the beginning of a conversation, the speaker
considers heuristically the addressee’s as well as his/her own positive and
negative face wants and the degree to which such wants should be attended
based on affection towards the addressee, the speaker’s own desire
regarding how to present him/herself, what the social norm for the
particular situation is, and the potential risk of the FTA, if any. Such
decision-making concerning overall politeness can be fairly stable for the
length of the conversation, or the speaker can modify it during the
conversation.
The speaker next needs to determine how to express his/her decision
about the desirable degree of linguistic politeness, during which Brown
and Levinson’s positive and negative politeness strategies become

417
relevant. Here, the speaker’s linguistic sophistication as well as social and
regional standards undoubtedly come into play. While the speaker may
have various concerns, s/he must plan his/her utterance to manifest some
of them while hiding others.
The situation represented in (7) is close to the maximum in both
negative and positive politeness.
(8)

On the other hand, if one is indifferent to politeness, positive politeness

will be at a minimum, although negative politeness might vary, attributable
mainly to the speaker’s self-image. Some persons do not mind being
boorish, e.g. (9a), while others prefer to maintain a certain level of
linguistic politeness in order to represent themselves as refined persons
and/or because they may have found that in social intercourse civility is
frequently more effective, as illustrated in (9b).
(9) a.

b.

Regarding the relationship of honorifics to the use of their politeness

strategies, Brown and Levinson point out that in Tamil (a language spoken
in southern India and northeastern Sri Lanka), some direct requests of low
R-value coming from subordinates to superordinates may occur if such
requests are mitigated with appropriate honorifics. This might suggest that
in some languages, politeness might be carried more by honorifics and less
by matters of open-ended politeness strategies. However, Brown and
Levinson conclude that this inference is not generally correct; they concur
that there is not “a certain quantity of politeness to be conveyed by one
channel (the grammaticized honorifics) or another (strategic language use)

418
– politeness is usually redundantly expressed in both” (p. 25). What I
propose is very different from what Brown and Levinson describe: that is,
negative and positive politeness strategies should be considered separately,
and can be used simultaneously, contrary to Brown and Levinson’s
strategy ranking.
These three approaches are not necessarily incompatible with each
other. They may provide valid accounts for some aspects of politeness,
while being inadequate for others. A highly complex phenomenon,
linguistic politeness can naturally be expected to reflect different kinds of
motivation, and its linguistic realizations can, therefore, vary considerably.
To conclude this chapter, I have pointed out that, as it stands, Brown and
Levinson’s universal theory of politeness cannot satisfactorily account for
Japanese politeness phenomena, which heavily incorporate and depend
upon the use of honorifics. I consider Ide’s objections to their theory to be
significant, but I do not agree that politeness has two separate components
of volition and discernment. Rather, what needs reevaluation in Brown and
Levinson’s theory are the concepts of negative and positive strategies.
They contend that negative and positive politeness are mutually exclusive,
and that the speaker must select one, and only one, strategy for each FTA.
However, because these strategies take into account the two types of face
that people constantly maintain, they must not be ranked linearly and
exclusively. I claim that, whenever resources are available, the speaker is
sufficiently rational to make simultaneous use of both strategies.
Furthermore, Japanese honorifics have grammaticized negative politeness
(distancing) and positive politeness (showing deference) simultaneously.
This fact supports my contention that these two strategies are not mutually
exclusive.
1 Japanese society is often characterized as hierarchical. This involves
vertical stratification by an institution or group of institutions, rather than
horizontal stratification by class or caste; each group is vertically
organized based on the relationships between paternalistic superiors and
their subordinates (Nakane 1970).
2 Ikuta also posits the notion of cohesional (or textual) distance, an
indication of coherence and the hierarchical positioning of utterances in
discourse. Although insightful, this part of her analysis is not directly
relevant to the present discussion, and will therefore not be discussed
further.
3 Usami (1995: 31) reports that in her conversation data of nine Japanese

419
speakers unfamiliar with each other, 93.9% of the utterances are in the
polite style.
4 A pre-sequence is a sequence of verbal exchanges preliminary to the
main speech act (Chapter 19) aimed at obtaining the addressee’s
cooperation, e.g. May I ask you a question? before actually questioning.
5 http://matsuri.site.ne.jp/taro/taro106.htm.

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 22 Speech style shift
22.1 Introduction
Selection between the plain and polite speech styles not only reflects
interlocutors’ social relationships but also constructs them. Thus, linguistic
interaction style is dynamic vis-à-vis the shifting and evolving of the
interlocutors’ relationships. For example, it is commonly observed that
interlocutors who are unfamiliar with each other begin their conversation
with the polite style, and, as they become familiar, switch to the plain
style. Conversely, familiar interlocutors habitually use the plain style, but
when the conversational topic becomes grave (e.g. a serious disputes, a
death), they may switch to the polite style.
Although speech styles can shift back and forth even during a single
span of conversation, such shifts are by no means arbitrarily made. In
Japanese, a style shift is normally initiated by the superior interlocutor
(Matsumura and Chinami 1998),1 and when an interlocutor of a lower rank
initiates a shift instead, different strategies are required (Neustupný 1982).
This chapter introduces several previously proposed analyses of speech
style shift, and is followed by my analysis of one of its most prominent
functions, viz. simultaneous expression of deference and intimacy towards
the addressee.
22.2 Affective distance
Ikuta (1983) points out that previously proposed analyses, which claim the
polite style to be an indication of politeness or formality, are inadequate
because they cannot account for speech style shifts in a conversation in
which the social and situational conditions remain constant. Instead, she
characterizes the basic function of the polite style metaphorically to be
distancing (see Section 21.4): speech styles are selected to express whether
the speaker considers the addressee close (plain style) or distant (polite
style). She contends that the dominant speech style is determined by the
interlocutors’ social relationship at the start of their conversation. As the
conversation unfolds, style shifts will take place, reflecting the speaker’s
empathy with the addressee at that particular moment of speaking. She
makes the generalization that empathy is expected when the speaker shows
strong agreement, positively evaluates a preceding statement made by the
addressee, or is admiring the addressee. For example, in the following
conversation between two female interlocutors, the polite style is utilized
in the first two utterances, but the third is in the plain style when K

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complements J’s statement.2
(1) K:
Sono oheya wa koshitsu ni natte desu
irun

that room TOP private.room made.as COP.POL.NPST

‘Is that apartment designed for a single person?’

J:

Ē, rokujō to yojōhan to sanrūmu ga taihen

yes 6-mat and 4.5-mat and sunroom NOM very

hiroin desu no.

spacious COP.POL.NPST SFP

‘Yes, there is a six-mat (tatami) room, a four-and-a-half mat room,

and a sunroom, which is very spacious.’
→ K:

Mā, zuibun ii no ne. [plain style]

oh really good NMLZ SFP

‘Oh, that’s very nice.’

On the other hand, Ikuta contends, empathy is avoided (i.e. distancing is

preferred) when the topic is a very private or sensitive matter. The
utterances preceding (2) were in the plain style, for the interlocutors had
become relaxed and frank. Then, K switched back to the polite style, using
Shitsurei desu kedo ‘Excuse me, but’.
(2) K:
Shitsurei desu kedo Jō- wa zutto
[polite san
style],

impolite COP.POL.NPST but TOP always

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 dokushin de irassharu no?3 [plain style]

single COP.HON.NPST SFP

‘Excuse me, but have you always been single?’

J:

Īe, ano ne, nido oyome ni itta no. [plain style]

no INTJ twice married SFP

‘No, I have been married twice.’

K:

Ara, sō nan desu ka? [polite style]

INTJ so COP.POL.NPST INT

‘Oh, is that so.’

Ikuta explains that asking a person about highly personal topics such as
her marital history is a delicate matter, so K employs the polite style as the
ritual required before embarking on such a question. The rest of the
utterance by K is in the plain style, which could have also been in the
polite style: i.e. zutto dokushin de irassharun desu ka? ‘Have you always
been single?’ Ikuta believes that maintaining the polite style (i.e.
distancing) throughout this utterance would have made J more reluctant to
speak without reserve, and that emphasizing closeness works better in this
case.
While Ikuta’s work is a significant contribution to our understanding of
the speech style shift, some inaccuracies are readily observable. Contrary
to Ikuta’s claim, positive remarks in the plain style are not always
appropriate when the speaker wants to show deference toward the
addressee. For example, use of the addressee-oriented particle yo (see
Section 23.3) is not acceptable in (3a), whereas its non-use in (3b) is.
Ikuta’s analysis is unable to account for this difference; this topic will be
discussed further in Section 22:6.
(3) a.
Wā, tottemo niau yo.

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 wow very suit SFP

‘Wow, that suits (you) very well!’

b.
Wā, tottemo niau!

22.3 Social roles

Analyzing the conversations of elementary school third graders, Okamoto
(1997) reports that the use of the polite style is indicative of a speaker’s
social identity, the statements made in this style being representative of
one’s role as either a teacher or a student. The use of the plain style, on the
other hand, conveys the meaning that statements are those of a private
person, and do not reflect one’s prescribed social role. In (4), the students
were instructed to underline in their textbooks passages that explain why a
girl from Tōkyō and her classmates in a rural school started fighting as
well as those that explain the girl’s feelings at that time. The teacher then
speaks as follows:
(4)
Hai, dewa, empitsu oite kudasāi. Sorede, mada kakete nakutemo,

ok then pencil please.put.down and yet if.not.finished.writ

tochū ki ga ne, happyō sureba iin desu

de tsuitara

midway if.notice INTJ presentation if.do ok COP.POL.NPST

ne. Ii desu

SFP ok COP.POL.NPST

‘Well, then, please put down your pencils. And if you haven’t finished underlining
that’s okay. If you notice (something), you can say it at that point. Okay?’

Hai, jā, mazu ne, sen o hippatta tokoro kara

ok then first INTJ line ACC drew place from

moraimāsu. Hai, jā, sen hippatta hito, te o

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 receive ok then line drew person hand ACC

‘Well, first, please recite from the places you underlined. Ok, those of you who hav
underlined something, please raise your hands.’
→
[After Atsusa ni makezu ni gambarō ne
wiping her
perspiration]

heat DAT not.being.defeated be.persistent SFP

‘Let’s not let the heat get (the better of) us!’

Hai, jā, Miya Yutaka-san, onegai shimāsu.

ok then please.do

‘All right, MIYA Yutaka-san, please (tell us your results).’

In (4), the teacher’s utterances are all in the polite style, except for the
marked sentence, which should be taken as her personal and friendly
encouragement, rather than as a routine classroom direction.
In (5), Yoshie IKUMA (Y), a female student, misreads the word tori-
musubu ‘to act as a go-between’ as musubu ‘to tie’. This error is corrected
by a male classmate, Kazuhiro (K). The marked line in the teacher’s
utterance (T) employs a plain style to convey the fact that her utterance is
intended only for Kazuhiro, not for the entire class.
(5) Y:
Hai, watashi wa “musunde kureta no to iu tokoro
desu”

ok I TOP “they tied it” QUOT place

o hikimashita.

ACC drew.POL

‘Okay, I underlined “they tied it.”’

T:

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 “Musunde kureta” no to-, tokoro desu ka?

“they tied it” GEN place COP.POL.NPST INT

‘You underlined “they tied it”?’

Y: Hai.
‘Yes.’
K:

[In background] Tori-musubu, tori-musubu.

go-between

‘To act as a go-between, go-between.’

→ T:

N, chotto, n? Kazuhiro- mō ichido it-te agete

kun,

um a.little um more once say-TE give-

itta tokoro.

said place

‘Um, well, Kazuhiro-kun, tell (Ikuma-san) again what you just said.’
K:

Ikuma- ga itta koto wa, tabun “tori-

san musubu”

NOM said thing TOP probably “go-

between”

de wa ari-masen ka?

COP.TE TOP is-not.POL INT

‘Didn’t you mean “to act as a go-between,” Ikuma-san?’

Y:

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 Hai, sō dēsu.

yes so COP.POL.NPST

‘Yes, that’s right.’

Cook (2008) came to a similar conclusion to Okamoto concerning the

social function of language by analyzing speech style shifts used by
parents when speaking to their children. Consider, for example, the
interaction in (6) among a father (F), a mother (M), and a two-year-old girl
(C), with a slightly modified description derived from Cook (2008: 54).
(6) C: [Picks up a noodle from her bowl with her left hand and holds it up toward F.]
F:

Tōsan iranai. [Turns away his hand.]

father need.not

‘I don’t want it.’

C: [Brings her left hand toward M.]
M: [Pretends to take a bite of the noodle.]
C: [Quickly puts the noodle in M’s mouth, then takes it out and holds it out to F
again.]
→ F:

Naaaa. Ippen kuchi ni ireta mono iri-masen.

once mouth in put.in thing need-POL.NEG.NPST

‘I don’t want something that has already been in someone else’s

mouth.’

Cook contends that the use of the polite form here indicates a self-
presentational stance, displaying one’s positive social role to other
individuals (i.e. shisei o tadasu ‘to hold oneself up’ or kichin to suru ‘to do
something neatly’) (p. 46). By implication, such usage is extended to and
highlighted in out-group contexts, where polite behavior is expected. By
contrast, in the in-group context (e.g. within the family), a display of the
self-presentational stance foregrounds a speaker’s social identity in
relation to group responsibilities (pp. 47–48). Therefore, parents tend to
switch from the plain to the polite form when teaching children, doing

427
household chores, and cooking and serving food in their children’s
presence. As part of the socialization process, parents use the polite style
to show children how and when to present one’s various social identities
(p. 62).
22.4 Domains of information
Suzuki (1997) points out that the boundary between the speaker’s and the
addressee’s domains of information (see Section 24.3) is clearly drawn in
polite styles. As such, the speaker normally avoids invading the
addressee’s domain. In the plain style, by contrast, there is no clear
boundary; the interlocutors value camaraderie more than deference. In (7),
where an interlocutor of lower status (L) expresses appreciation to one of
higher status (H) for the present H gave to L, the arrowed utterances shift
from the polite to the plain speech style.
(7) L:
Kono aida wa dōmo arigatō gozaimashita.

the.other.day TOP very thank.you.POL

‘Thank you very much for (the present you gave me) the other day.’
→

Are sugoku kirei. [plain style]

that very pretty

‘They were very pretty.’

H:

Sō deshō?

so COP.CNJ

‘Weren’t they?’
[snip]
→ L:

Motto ippai hoshii nā. [plain style]

more want SFP

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 ‘I want more of them.’
H:

Sora yokat-ta. [plain style]

that good.PAST

‘That’s good.’
L:

Jibun de kaitain desu kedo, futsū uttemasu

ni

self by want.to.buy COP.POL but always sell.POL

‘I want to buy some more myself. Are they always on sale?’

H:

Shōzan ni aru kedo. [plain style]

at exist but

‘Shozan sells them.’

Suzuki points out that when a plain style is used by L, the statement is
about something in L’s domain of information (L thinks the item is pretty;
L wants more of the item). When a statement is made regarding H’s
domain (e.g. expressing gratitude, question, request), L employs only the
polite style. By contrast, H uses the plain style more freely.
22.5 Awareness of the addressee
Maynard (1991: 577–78) observes that the use of the plain style in casual
conversations marks the speaker’s “low awareness of the addressee” as a
separate and potentially opposing entity. Conversely, high awareness plays
an important role in the production and comprehension of the Japanese
language, which requires speakers to select different linguistic expressions
more forcefully than do speakers of European languages.
She asserts that the plain style is likely to be employed when the speaker
(i) exclaims or suddenly recalls something; (ii) vividly expresses events
scene-internally as if the speaker were right there; (iii) expresses internal

429
thought self-reflexively, including soliloquies (or monologues); (iv) jointly
creates utterances with the addressee, i.e. the ownership of the utterance is
shared; (v) presents background information; or (vi) is in an intimate
relationship with the addressee, expressing familiarity and closeness. I
consider (i) to be a subtype of (iii), which was exemplified by (3b).
(3) b.
Wā, tottemo niau!

wow very Suit

‘Wow, that suits (you) very well!’

The sentence in (8) exemplifies (ii): a secretary reports in the polite style
to the district public prosecutor why Harue, a neighbor of a crime suspect,
is unfriendly toward the suspect. The description of the suspect’s life style
in the plain style adds vividness and credibility to the account (p. 563).
(8)
Tabun, Harue ni jibun to dōnenpai no onna
shitemireba,

perhaps for self as same.age GEN woman

→
shareta uchi ni sun- akanuketa minari de tsūkin shite
de, iru.

stylish house in live-TE fashionable clothes in is.commuting

‘Perhaps for Harue, (it was upsetting to see that) a woman about the same age as
herself lives in a stylish house and goes to work wearing fashionable clothes.’

… Sō yū hade na kurashi ga netamashikatta to yū

such showy life NOM was.jealous QUOT say

ja-nai-n deshō ka? [polite style]

COP-NEG-NMLZ COP.CNJ INT

‘Isn’t it that Harue was jealous of such a showy life style?’

An example of (iv) is provided in (9), in which A and B jointly create an

430
utterance (p. 559).
(9) A:
Ashita wa jikken repōto ga

tomorrow TOP experiment report NOM

‘Tomorrow, an experiment report’

B:

Aru. [plain style]

there.is

‘There is.’
A:

Un aru. [plain style]

yes there.is

‘There is.’

An illustrative example of (v) is given in (10), in which the sentence in

the plain style provides the reason why the speaker does not value personal
advising (p. 555).
(10)
Watashi wa higoro kara minoue sōdan no inchikisei

I TOP always from personal advising GEN phoniness

wa gō o niyashite imasu. [polite style]

TOP am.irritated

‘I have always been quite irritated by the phoniness of personal affair

advisors.’
→
Aite to yohodo fukaku tsukiat-te minai koto
ni wa,

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 partner with considerably deep associate-TE unless

shinmina kotae nado dekiru mono de wa nai. [plain style]

thoughtful advice such cannot.do

‘One cannot give thoughtful advice unless one is well-acquainted

with and has known the advisee for quite some time.’

Okashii de wa arimasen ka? [polite style]

strange is.it.not

‘Isn’t it strange?’

Maynard argues that the polite style is likely to be employed when the
speaker (a) expresses a thought that directly addresses the speech partner
with expressions appropriate in terms of sociolinguistic variables, and (b)
communicates essential information addressed directly to the listener. In
short, the more the speaker is aware of the addressee as a separate entity,
the more elaborate the discourse markers become, one of which is the use
of desu/masu. Her generalization is, for the most part, valid. However,
speakers of Japanese also apply the plain style when they are quite aware
of the addressee – a topic which is explored in the next section.
22.6 The use of soliloquy to express intimacy and
deference simultaneously
As was discussed in Section 21.4, the Japanese honorific system
linguistically dichotomizes addressees, effectively putting them in two
categories: (i) distant and exalted, as expressed by the polite style, and (ii)
intimate and not exalted, as expressed by the plain style, as shown in Table
22.1.
Table 22.1 Dichotomy of addressees.
Addressee Intimate Distant

Exalted (A) (i) Polite style

Not exalted (ii) Plain style (B) Plain style

432
 In situation (B), wherein the speaker considers the addressee to be
psychologically distant but is not concerned about sounding impolite or
even vulgar, the plain style is used. A serious problem occurs in situation
(A) when the speaker wishes to convey intimacy and deference
simultaneously, because these two affective stances are incompatible in the
Japanese honorific system. In fact, this is quite possibly a universal
problem because, as seen in Brown and Levinson’s (1978/1987) analysis
of addressing terms, politeness is defined as the opposite of intimacy. The
use of non-intimate expressions is, therefore, considered polite when
addressing another person.
However, intimacy and deference are not inherently incompatible, and
there are indeed times when speakers wish to articulate both affective
stances simultaneously in speaking to an addressee. This need can be
accomplished only by the application of deft, highly elaborated linguistic
skills on the part of fluent and eloquent Japanese speakers who make use
of subtle, non-conventional language cues and strategies,4 among which
the most prominent is SOLILOQUY, an utterance of one’s thoughts without
addressing another individual.5
As discussed in Chapters 20 and 21, a one-to-one correspondence does
not exist between the use of honorifics and the speaker’s polite attitude;
that is, honorifics do not guarantee deference. They might be used merely
to display the speaker’s linguistic refinement or to imply his/her attitude of
unfriendliness, standoffishness, haughtiness, or rejection. Nevertheless, it
must be recognized that a unidirectional link does exist. While the polite
style does not necessarily indicate deference, deference cannot be
expressed without the use of the polite style. Therefore, switching to the
plain style in normal dialogic discourse necessarily disclaims deference.
Faced with this dilemma, speakers temporarily disengage with the on-
going dialogic discourse and switch to the soliloquy mode.
Native Japanese speakers are categorically aware of the soliloquy mode
of discourse, but native English speakers normally are not. For example,
when asked whether such a phrase as I see is dialogical or soliloquial,
English speakers appear puzzled, and their answers vary considerably.
This difference is due to the soliloquy mode of discourse having been, to
some extent, incorporated in Japanese grammar, but not in English. In
English, there is not much formal and structural difference when a
sentence is used for oneself, e.g. for thinking, and when it is used to
address another. By contrast, as Maynard (1991: 576) also emphasizes, the

433
Japanese language makes this distinction more prominently.6
Is it possible, then, that the soliloquy mode plays a more significant role
in Japanese than it does in English, even though it certainly has
significance in both languages? For example, consider this scenario: a
customer is in a check-out line, and a clerk is ringing up purchases. The
clerk announces the total amount, and the customer notices and points out
that the clerk rang up one item twice. The clerk (who is just completing an
eight-hour shift) shakes his head slightly and without making eye contact
with the customer says I need to go home, and then faces the customer and
says I’m sorry. In this case, almost everyone would recognize I need to go
home as soliloquy. Its significance here is to inveigle the customer into
acknowledging the speaker’s hard work without the speaker forthrightly
complaining, which would be inappropriate and risky. This episode
demonstrates that a speaker can use soliloquy rhetorically in order to be
overheard: soliloquy is used for showing one’s thoughts, not telling them.
This strategy requires adroit mental acrobatics, making a switch from the
dialogue to the soliloquy mode.
When Japanese speakers verbalize without expecting any reaction from
hearers, they employ certain forms and avoid certain others. Such
soliloquial utterances do not contain addressee-oriented elements: (i)
certain SFPs (e.g. yo/ze ‘I’m telling you’), (ii) directives (e.g. commands,
requests, questions), (iii) vocative (calling) expressions (e.g. oi ‘hey’), (iv)
responses (e.g. hai ‘yes’, iie ‘no’), (v) interactional adverbial phrases of
various sorts (e.g. sumimasen ga ‘excuse me, but’, koko dake no hanashi
dakedo ‘it’s between you and me’), (vi) hearsay expressions (e.g. sō da/-
tte ‘I hear’), and (vii) addressee honorifics (e.g. desu/masu). As a positive
indicator, soliloquy frequently involves exclamatory interjections (e.g. wā,
mā, hē, hūn) and exclamatory SFPs (e.g. nā, kana, ya). Therefore, when a
speaker uses or avoids certain of these forms, the hearer tends to interpret
the utterance as soliloquy.7 For example, such utterances as shown in (11)
are usually recognized as soliloquy by most native speakers of Japanese.
(11) a.
A, sō nan da.

oh so COP.NPST

‘Oh, I see.’
b.
Honto darō ka.

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 true COP.CONJ INT

‘I wonder if it’s true.’

c.
Naruhodo ne.

reasonable SFP

‘That makes sense.’

The distinction between the presence of addressee-oriented elements and

the lack thereof explains why in (3), Wā, tottemo niau yo ‘That suits you
well (with the addressee-oriented particle yo)’ is not acceptable, but Wā,
tottemo niau (without yo) is, as discussed in Section 22.2. The following
are typical examples of soliloquial utterances embedded in dialogic
discourse, all made by female speakers of higher (H) and lower (L) status.
(12) H:
Honto ni ēgo de wa kurō shimasu.

really English at TOP am.troubled.POL

‘English is sure a pain in the neck!’

L:

Ē, honto desu kā?

INTJ true COP.NPST.POL INT

‘Oh, really?’
H:

Honto, honto.

true true

‘That’s true.’
→ L:

Hē, sensē demo sō nan dā. [plain

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 style]

teacher also same COP.NPST

‘Hmm, even teachers have trouble with it.’

(13) L:
Kore, saikin kekkō hayatterun desu.

this recently fairly fashionable COP.POL.NPST

‘These [a pair of gloves] are kind of popular nowadays.’

H:

Ara, kawaii. Dōmo arigatō gozaimasu.

INTJ cute very thank.you.POL

‘Oh, they’re cute. Thank you very much.’

L:

Ōkisa, daijobu desu ka?

size all-right COP.NPST.POL INT

‘Is the size right?’

H:

Chōdo mitai.

just it.seems

‘It looks just right.’

→ L:

Ā, yokat-ta. [plain style]

INTJ good-PAST

‘Oh, good.’

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 Insertion of soliloquy into a conversation can mitigate the psychological
distancing that necessarily accompanies the polite style because it is tacitly
assumed that showing one’s inner thoughts does not occur unless one
considers the hearer trustworthy. This switch between the dialogue and
soliloquy modes occurs at a higher level of discourse organization and
should, therefore, be recognized separately from the speech-style proper as
exemplified in (4–6).
1 Interlocutors’ relative statuses are normally determined in Japanese
culture by their prescribed social roles and/or age.
2 This conversation is between Tetsuko KUROYANAGI, a well-known
female TV interviewer and her guest Natsuko JŌ, a professional writer in
her seventies, older than Kuroyanagi.
3 De irassharu no? in (2) exhibits the [+HON, –POL] strategy for the same
individual, discussed in Section 20:7.
4 In many American graduate schools, students address professors by
their first names, and vice versa. In Japan, this practice is unthinkable.
Therefore, if a professor in the US is Japanese, students from Japan find
themselves in a dilemma. They cannot address me, for example, as Yoko,
which would clearly indicate their incompetence as mature speakers of
Japanese. However, calling me Hasegawa-sensei ‘Teacher Hasegawa’, as
happens in Japan, sounds stiff and obedient, and it would be considered a
rather peculiar behavior in many American academic institutions.
Therefore, many of my students address me as Yoko-sensei in an attempt
to express both deference and intimacy. The use of the given name
followed by sensei is not novel, but in Japan, it is generally restricted to
addressing kindergarten teachers or teachers of arts and crafts or music.
5 See Hasegawa (2010) for the use of soliloquy in linguistic
communication.
6 Zwicky (2005) reports that the omission of it be in the following
construction sounds like self reflection, e.g. (It’s) odd that Mary never
showed up; (It’s) too bad (that) she had to leave town so soon; (It’s)
amazing that he didn’t spot the error. Soliloquy in English may have
various subtle cues yet to be discovered.
7 The TV serial drama Kodoku no gurume ‘the solitary gourmet’ consists
mostly of soliloquies with occasional dialogues. Simply listening to the
protagonist’s voice, native speakers of Japanese can clearly distinguish
which parts are soliloquies and which parts are not.

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 23 Sentence-final particles
23.1 Introduction
SENTENCE-FINAL PARTICLES (SFPs) are those short elements that occur
at the end of an utterance; some also occur utterance-medially as
INTERJECTIVE PARTICLES. SFPs reflect the illocutionary force of the
utterance (see Section 19.1) as well as the speaker’s attitude towards the
utterance and/or the interlocutor(s). SFPs occur frequently in Japanese
conversation. Maynard (1997: 88) reports that in her 60-minute
conversation data, SFPs occurred in about 40 percent of utterances. The
ones most commonly used are: ne (364 times, 42.2% of SFPs), sa (148,
17.2%), no (138, 16.0%), yo (128, 14.8%), and na (49, 5.7%).
Beyond their conversational use, SFPs are routinely employed in
soliloquy, wherein no addressee is involved. My recent collection of
soliloquy data contains 3,042 utterances, of which 2,050 were made by 16
female speakers and 992 by 8 male speakers (Hasegawa 2010).1 Of these,
48.8 percent (1,483 utterances) end in an SFP, which is close to Maynard’s
percentage. Thus, it is evident that SFPs are deeply seated in the act of
speaking whether the utterance is used for communication with others or
for thinking (i.e. soliloquy). The frequency of SFPs in my soliloquy data is
summarized in Table 23.1.
Table 23.1 Usage of SFPs by gender.
Number of Number of
Female Male
occurrences occurrences
speakers speakers
(percentage) (percentage)

1 ka-na 275 (32.3%) ka-na 150 (23.8%)

2 ne 195 (22.9%) na 138 (21.9%)

3 na 152 (17.8%) ne 122 (19.3%)

4 ka 95 (11.2%) yo-ne 86 (13.6%)

5 yo-ne 41 (4.8%) ka 81 (12.8%)

6 ke 25 (2.9%) yo-na 18 (2.9%)

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 7 wa 19 (2.2%) ka-ne, ke 7 (1.1%)

8 kashira, 9 (1.1%) wa, ya 4 (0.6%)

yo-na

9 ya 8, 0.9%) sa (yo 3, 0.5%)

10 no 7 (0.8%) no 2 (0.3%)

23.2 Common sentence-final particles

The most common SFPs are explained below. Ne and yo, which have
received the most attention in the linguistics literature, will be discussed
separately in Section 23.3.
23.2.1 Ka
If accompanied by a falling intonation (↓), ka is used (i) when the speaker
is doubtful or uncertain as exemplified in (1a), (ii) when a decision is
about to be or has just been made e.g. (1b), or (iii) when newly acquired
information is not totally incorporated into the speaker’s conceptual world
e.g. (1c). With a rising intonation (↑), ka converts the utterance into a
question as in (1d). More to the point, the rising intonation itself solicits
the addressee’s response, with ka indicating that the response should be to
supply an answer. Although, strictly speaking, ka itself does not form a
question, this book nonetheless labels it the interrogative particle (INT).
(1) a.
Kare wa sansei suru darō ka↓.

he TOP agree COP.CNJ INT

‘Will he agree, I wonder.’

b.
Koko de taberu ka↓.

here at eat INT

‘I’ll eat here.’

c.
A, sō desu ka↓.

oh so COP INT

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 ‘Oh, I see/Is that so?’
d.
Sono hon wa omoshiroi desu ka↑.

that book TOP interesting COP INT

‘Is that book interesting?’

23.2.2 Kashira
Kashira expresses uncertainty or curiosity, and, like some SFPs, conveys
gender information; in the case of kashira, it is femininity. Men never use
this SFP unless they wish to identify their gender as female, and today’s
women no longer use it frequently. (Gendered language is discussed in
Chapter 28.)
(2) a.
Hontō ni sō kashira.2

really so SFP

‘I’m not sure if it’s true.’

b.
Kono hoteru wa eki kara tōi kashira.

this hotel TOP station from far SFP

‘Is this hotel far from the station, I wonder.’

c.
Kimura- wa mō uchi ni kaette iru kashira.
san

TOP already home to return exist SFP

‘Has Kimura-san come home yet, I wonder.’

23.2.3 Ke
Ke, realized as -kke, indicates that the speaker should remember the
content of an utterance, but s/he is unsure about it. Formally, -kke↓ is not
a question, but when an interlocutor hears it, s/he feels obliged to clarify

440
the matter or to say that s/he does not know the answer.
(3) a.
Ashita shiken da-kke↓.

tomorrow quiz COP-SFP

‘There’s a quiz tomorrow, I wonder.’

‘Are we going to have a quiz tomorrow?’

b.
Mō kono hanashi shimashita-kke↓.

already this story did.POL-SFP

‘I wonder if I’ve already told you this.’

‘Have I already told you this?’

Many native speakers of Japanese are reluctant to add ke to an i-

adjective or a verb ru-form; instead, the nominalized construction (Chapter
15) n da-kke is preferred:
(4) a.
Kyōto wa ima goro [??atsui/atsui n da]-kke↓.

TOP now [hot-SFP]

‘I wonder if Kyoto is hot this time of the year.’

‘Is Kyoto hot now?’

b.
Ano hito osake [??nomu/nomu n da]-kke↓.

that person alcohol [drink-SFP]

‘I wonder if s/he drinks.’

‘Does s/he drink?’

When spoken with a rising intonation, ke is clearly understood to

involve a question addressed to an interlocutor.

441
(5) A:
Konaida kashita hon, dō datta?

the.other.day lent book how COP-PAST

‘How was the book (I) lent (you) the other day?’
B:

E, karita-kke↑.

oh borrowed-SFP

‘Oh, (did I) borrow (a book)?’

23.2.4 Na
Na has three functions. As discussed in Section 6.4, it forms an affirmative
command when following a verb adverbial form as in (6a) or a negative
command when following a verb conclusive form as in (6b).
(6) a.
Kaeri na↑.

return SFP

‘Go home!’
b.
Kaeru na↓.3

return SFP

‘Don’t go home!’

The second function is exclamatory, as in (7a), which is used by both

males and females, and is often combined with another SFP as in (7b). An
exclamation is when a person expresses emotion in the form of an
utterance without addressing any particular interlocutor.
(7) a.
Tanoshii na↑.

happy SFP

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 ‘It’s a lot of fun!’
b.
Honto ka na↑.

true INT SFP

‘Is it true, I wonder.’

The third function of na, as exemplified in (8a), is as a masculine

variation of ne. This third use of na can also appear as an interjectional
particle, as happens in (8b), this particular instance demonstrating that the
final vowels of SFPs can be elongated without changing their function.
(8) a.
Ii tenki da na↑.

good weather COP SFP

‘It’s a fine day, isn’t it?’

b.
Ano nā karita kane nā mō sukoshi nā matte

well SFP borrowed money SFP more longer SFP wait

‘Well, won’t you wait a little longer for the money I borrowed from you?’

Whether or not an insertion of an SFP is possible at a certain position in

a sentence determines unit constituency. For example, na cannot occur
after karita, mō, or matte in (8b).
b Ano nā karita (*nā) kane nā mō (*nā) sukoshi nā matte (*nā) kunnai?
′.
This indicates that ano, karita kane, and mō sukoshi are phrase units
whereas karita, mō, and matte are dependent elements that cannot by
themselves form a phrase.
23.2.5 No
No is a nominalizer, which derives an NP from a clause, much like English
that as in That everyone knows my mistake is embarrassing. (See Section
15.2 for a detailed discussion.) It frequently occurs in utterance-final
position to add various nuances, typically softening the locution when

443
addressing an interlocutor. It is, therefore, considered mildly feminine
even though male speakers also use this particle.
(9) a.
Atama ga itai no↓.

head NOM painful SFP

‘I have a headache.’
b.
Ashita Tōkyō ni kaeru no↓.

tomorrow to return SFP

‘I’ll go back to Tokyo tomorrow.’

c.
Mō tabe-nai no↑.

any.more eat-not SFP

‘Won’t you eat any more?’

23.2.6 Sa
Sa intensifies an entire utterance, as in (10a), creating a very casual,
possibly even vulgar, impression.
(10) a.
Sonna koto tokku ni shitteru sa.

such matter already know SFP

‘I already know that.’

Sa is used more frequently as an interjective particle to solicit the

addressee’s attention, as in (10b), but its overuse, like that of any SFP, is
considered unsophisticated and irritating, much like overuse of you know
in English.
b.
Watashi wa sā tomodachi ni sā kuruma o sā

I TOP SFP friend from SFP car ACC SFP

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 ‘I’ll borrow a car from a friend.’

23.2.7 Wa
A feminine particle which by itself is no longer widely in use, wa stresses
an entire utterance when spoken with rising intonation. Its co-occurrence
with a polite form, as in (11b), sounds especially old-fashioned. However,
its combinations with ne and yo, i.e. wa-ne and wa-yo, are still commonly
observed. Wa↓ is gender-neutral or mildly masculine, e.g. (11c), and used
more commonly in Kansai (Kyoto–Osaka area) dialects.
(11) a.
Watashi wa ik-anai wa↑.

I TOP go-not SFP

‘I won’t go.’
b.
Watashi mo issho ni ikimasu wa↑.

I also together go.POL SFP

‘I’ll go with you.’

c.
Kore wa uremasen wa↓.

this TOP cannot.sell.POL SFP

‘This won’t sell.’

23.2.8 Ya
Ya also emphasizes an utterance, and its use is considered somewhat
childish. It occurs only with a falling intonation and is highly limited in
distribution. When appearing after an i-adjective, as in (12a), or the
negative form -(a)nai of a verb, as in (12b), it is gender-neutral and
normally expresses a negative or gloomy state of mind.
(12) a.
Kore, takai ya.

this expensive SFP

‘This is expensive.’

445
 b.
Konna koto wakannai ya.

this matter not.understand SFP

‘I don’t understand this kind of thing.’

When occurring after a verb volitional form, as in (13a), or a verb

imperative form, in (13b), ya is a masculine particle attempting to
convince an addressee who is otherwise unlikely to perform an action
requested of him/her.
(13) a.
Takamine-san mo yobō ya.

also invite.VOL SFP

‘Let’s invite Takamine-san too.’

b.
Hayaku shitaku shiro ya.

quickly preparation do.IMP SFP

‘Get ready quickly!’

23.2.9 Ze
Categorized as a masculine particle, ze forcefully accentuates an utterance.
(Ze↓ is more forceful than ze↑.) It presupposes the presence of an
addressee, and therefore does not occur in soliloquy.
(14) a.
Kono eiga naka-naka omoshiroi ze↑.

this movie quite interesting SFP

‘This movie is quite interesting.’

b.
Ano mise de nomō ze↓.

that bar at drink.VOL SFP

‘Let’s have a drink at that bar.’

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23.2.10 Zo
Marking strong determination as exemplified in (15a), zo occurs in both
male and female soliloquies. In conversation, however, it is considered a
masculine particle as shown in (15b).
(15) a.
Ganbaru zo!

try.hard SFP

‘I’ll try hard/keep going!’

‘I won’t give up!’

b.
Uso o tsuku to okoru zo!

lie ACC tell if get.angry SFP

‘[Lit.] I’ll get angry if you tell me a lie!’

‘I won’t tolerate lying!’

23.3 Ne and yo in conversation

Ne and yo occur routinely in Japanese conversation. As reported in Section
23.1, in Maynard’s (1997: 88) 60-minute conversation data, ne and yo
occurred 364 and 128 times, respectively, at an approximate ratio of 3:1.
Ne is generally understood to indicate the speaker’s assumption that s/he
and the addressee have the same status regarding knowledge of, or belief
about, the piece of information being conveyed, whereas yo is selected
when different cognitive statuses are assumed. Uyeno (1971: 96), for
example, contends that in (16), ne is used when the speaker assumes the
addressee, like him/herself, is aware of the information, whereas yo is used
when the speaker expects the addressee to be unaware of it.
(16)
Sonna koto wa atarimae da ne/yo.

such thing TOP matter.of.course COP SFP

‘That goes without saying.’

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 The functions of ne include requesting confirmation and seeking or
showing agreement. These usages, taken from Ohso (1986: 91), are
exemplified in (17)–(18).
(17) A: [Requesting confirmation]
Kyō wa kinyōbi desu ne.

today TOP Friday COP SFP

‘Today is Friday, isn’t it?’

B:

Ē, sō desu.

yes so COP

‘Yes, that’s right.’

(18) A: [Seeking agreement]
Kyō wa kinyōbi desu ne.

today TOP Friday COP SFP

‘Today is Friday, isn’t it?’

B: [Showing agreement]

Sō desu ne. Yatto isshūkan owarimashita ne.

so COP SFP finally a.week ended SFP

‘Yes. Finally, the week is over.’

However, as Kato (2001: 33–34) points out, this analysis cannot account
for the use of ne in (19) nor for the use of yo in (20).
(19) A:
Jūbun ja nai desu ka.

enough not COP INT

‘It’s enough, wouldn’t you say?’

448
 B:

Watashi to shite wa, mitome-raremasen ne.

for.me TOP agree-cannot.POL SFP

‘I can’t agree with you.’

(20) [The interlocutors are seeing the rain together.]
Yoku furu ne/yo.

often fall SFP

‘It’s raining again.’

In (19), B’s opinion is clearly not shared by A. In (20), while ne occurs

with a rising pitch contour, yo cannot be with a rising pitch. On the other
hand, when yo is spoken with a falling pitch, this utterance sounds to me
like soliloquy. This issue will be examined in the next section.
Izuhara (2003) compares ne, yo, and yo-ne. She argues that they are all
used to persuade the addressee to adopt the same cognitive state as that of
the speaker. However, these particles differ with respect to how they are
supposed to accomplish this goal. According to Izuhara, yo is used to
change the addressee’s cognition by asserting the speaker’s own thought,
e.g. (21); yo–ne is used to achieve the same goal by confirming whether or
not the speaker’s cognitive stance is shared by the addressee, e.g. (22); ne
is used to do so by requesting agreement without necessarily asserting the
speaker’s own epistemic stance, e.g. (23).
(21) T:
A sōnan desu ka. (Izuhara 2003: 6)

oh so COP INT

‘Oh, is that so?’

K:

Sō yo.

so SFP

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 ‘Yes, it is.’
(22) T:
Ikebe-san wa rikugun nandesu yo-ne. (p.9)

TOP army COP.POL SFP

‘Mr. Ikebe, you were in the army, weren’t you?’

I:

Ē, boku wa rikugun no shichōtai, ima

yes I TOP army GEN transport.corps now

‘Yes, I was in an army transport-corps called shichōtai, now called

(23) T:
Koshiji- wa meshiagaru no mo osuki ne.
san

TOP eat NMLZ also like SFP

‘Ms. Koshiji, you like to eat too, don’t you?’

K:

Daisuki.

like-very-much

‘Yes, very much so.’

Because all of these particles request some modification in the

addressee’s cognition, Izuhara contends they may sometimes convey an
obtrusive tone. Because of this fact, many speakers avoid using these
particles when speaking to their supervisors as in (24):
(24) a.
Denwa desu kedo/yo.

telephone COP but/SFP

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 ‘You have a phone call.’
b.
Ashita irasshaimasu ka/ne.

tomorrow come.HON INT/SFP

‘Will you come tomorrow?’

Cook (1990, 1992) contends that ne is not limited to solicitation of

agreement on informational content, and that it frequently signals an
affective common ground between speaker and addressee, requiring the
addressee’s cooperation. As such, ne is often used when the speaker must
convey negative, unwelcome information as shown in (25):
(25)
Oshokuji no toki mama shikar- kedo nē. Hitoshi
ni itaku-
nai

meal GEN time mother scold- but SFP

want-
not

sono tabekata ni wa mō mama yurus-enai

that way.of.eating at TOP no.more mother forgive-cannot

‘I don’t want to scold you at dinner time. But I can’t tolerate any more the
way in which you [Hitoshi] eat.’

Katagiri (1995, 2007) asserts that ne and yo contribute to the

coordination of dialogue by indicating the speaker’s state of
acceptance/nonacceptance regarding the information expressed by the
utterance. Yo is used to present the information as already accepted by the
speaker, whereas ne indicates that the information has not yet been
thoroughly accepted. According to Katagiri, the addressee can
subsequently use such input to determine for him/herself the acceptability
of the speaker’s utterances and the need for collaboration between the two:
Dialogues can be considered as communication through an unreliable
channel. What a speaker says may not be heard by a hearer. Even if it
is heard, it may not be understood. And even if it is understood, it still

451
 may not be accepted. In order to ensure that the dialogue proceeds
successfully, dialogue participants have to collaborate with each other
to assist and assure the establishment of mutual beliefs, and to secure
common grounds, between them
(2007: 1316).
23.4 Ne and yo in soliloquy
As mentioned in Section 23.1, it is likely that ne occurs in soliloquy as
frequently as it does in conversation, while yo is extremely rare (Hasegawa
2010: 61). Therefore, the communication-based characterizations of ne as
presented in the previous section are all inadequate to account for the
whole range of the functions of ne.
23.4.1 Ne
Takubo and Kinsui (1997; Kinsui and Takubo 1998) consider that ne is
primarily a monitoring device for the speaker’s sake, rather than a
communicative device, a recourse to an addressee’s assumed knowledge of
a given topic. Comparing the act of speaking with the operations of a
computer, they contend that speaking involves registering, searching,
computing, and inferring on the database, i.e. the speaker’s permanent
memory. In their theory, ne’s essential function is to mark matching of
information between two sources. For example, suppose that the speaker
tries to confirm that the addressee is John Smith. S/he would say:
(26)
Anata wa Jon Sumisu-san desu ne.

you TOP COP SFP

‘You are Mr. John Smith, aren’t you?’

The two sources for matching may be opinions of two different persons
or different data points within a single person, e.g. old and new
information. Ne signals that the speaker is in the process of verification by
matching, or self-confirmation.
For another example, in conversation (27), Speaker B first looks at his
watch and finds that the little hand is pointing to “7” so concludes that the
watch is accurate as regards timekeeping (Takubo and Kinsui 1997: 752).
Lacking ne, utterance (27) would merely indicate that the time is seven
o’clock, without implying any type of computation or confirmation on the
part of the speaker.

452
(27) A:
Nan-ji desu ka?

what-time COP INT

‘What time is it?’

B: [Looking at her watch]

Ē to, shichi-ji desu ne.

well 7-o’clock COP SFP

‘It’s seven o’clock.’

If it is unlikely matching between two sources is involved, the use of ne

will sound anomalous, as in (28).
(28)
#Watashi no namae wa Tanaka desu ne.

I GEN name TOP COP SFP

‘My name is Tanaka.’

This idea of matching seems to apply to most occurrences of ne in my

soliloquy data. Ne occurs frequently with (i) such discourse adverbials as
yappari ‘as expected, of course’, sasuga ‘as might be expected’, igai to
‘contrary to expectation’, sō ie-ba ‘speaking of that’, naruhodo
‘reasonably, that explains why something is in such a state’, jissai
‘actually’; (ii) a conditional clause; and (iii) other kinds of comparison,
such as mukashi ‘old days’. These expressions indicate that the speaker has
compared the current situation with a piece of information in his/her
permanent memory.
23.4.2 Yo
Unlike ne, yo is extremely rare in soliloquy. It occurred only four times by
itself and once as ka-yo in my experimental data. During one subject’s
recording, his cell phone rang, and after hanging up, he said the following
with a falling intonation on yo.
(29)
Machigai denwa ka- Kimu -tte dare da yo.
yo.

453
 wrong telephone SFP QUOT who COP SFP

‘Wrong number? Who’s Kim?’

Inoue (1997) distinguishes yo↑ (with a rising intonation) and yo↓ (with
a falling or level intonation), contending that yo↓ forces both the speaker
and the addressee to re-evaluate the conversational and other relevant
contexts in such a way that the conveyed information must be recognized
as true. He illustrates this idea with the following examples in (30), where
the implicit messages are derived by the speaker’s reconfirmation and
reassessment of the relevance of each piece of information in relation to
the particular context.
(30) a.
Ano hito, mada anna koto itteru yo↓.

that person still such thing is.saying SFP

‘That guy still says such things.’

[Message expected to be conveyed:]

Komatta mon da.

troublesome thing COP

‘It’s troublesome.’
b.
Otoko wa tsurai yo↓.

man TOP hardship SFP

‘A man’s life is tough!’

[Message expected to be conveyed:]

Mā, shikata ga nai nā.

well cannot.help SFP

‘Well, it’s useless to complain since there is nothing to be

454
 done about it.’

Regarding yo↑, Inoue explains that not only does it force the
interlocutors to reconfirm the situation with the information deemed to be
valid, but it also obligates the addressee to consider his/her future act(s)
accordingly.
(31) A:
Inoue-san kara no fakusu todoitemasu ka?

from GEN fax has.arrived INT

‘Has a fax from Inoue-san come yet?’

B:

Todoitemasu yo↑.

has-arrived SFP

‘Yes, it has.’

[Message expected to be conveyed:]

Dō saremasu ka?

how do.HON INT

‘What are you going to do about it?’

This explanation accounts nicely for the situation represented in (32).

With yo↓, the speaker conveys an opinion such as “so I don’t want to go
there,” whereas with yo↑, the speaker asks whether the addressee still
wants to go there.
(32)
Kushiro wa samui yo.

TOP cold SFP

‘It’s cold in Kushiro.’

Only yo↓ can occur in soliloquy. This fact supports Inoue’s analysis,

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wherein yo↓ need not involve an addressee while yo↑ necessarily does.4
23.5 Acquisition of sentence-final particles
Children acquire their first group of SFPs – yo, no, and ne in that order –
between one and a half and two years of age, around the time that they
start to produce two-word utterances (Okubo 1967: 84). Reporting that
many early instances of ne follow partial repetition of adult utterances,
Clancy (1986: 429) conjectures, “Such repetitions may serve as a kind of
prototypical case of shared information, with mother and child repeating
and agreeing with each other’s utterances.” Ne can also occur with
information which is not available to the addressee; in this case, the child
seeks to secure the addressee’s acceptance of the information or speech
act. “Ne is often used with requests, apologies, and in imparting
information which the listener may not be pleased to hear, in an attempt to
convey a sense of fellow-feeling, reduce any negative impact, and gain the
listener’s compliance” (p.29), a typical example being Gomen ne ‘I’m
sorry’. This supports Cook’s (1990, 1992) analysis of ne as creating and
confirming an affective common ground between the speaker and the
addressee.
Watamaki (1997) hypothesizes that if establishing social relationships is
the primary function of ne, autistic children will not be able to use it as
shrewdly as non-handicapped (NH) children do. Autistic children are
generally believed to be unable to learn effective communication skills to
interact smoothly with others because they lack the ability to attribute
different mental states to themselves and to others, and to use such
differentiation to infer others’ intentions as well as to predict their future
actions. Furthermore, autistic children rarely speak about cognitive mental
states, e.g. thinking and believing, and they do not understand the source
of such mental states. NH children, on the other hand, start talking about
them at around two and a half years (Tager-Flusberg 1992). Another
significant difference is that autistic children do not express requests for
joint attention, e.g. Look!, whereas NH children begin to do so at about
nine months of age.
Watamaki compares one-hour speech samples of a six-year-old autistic
boy with no learning disability and a five-year-old developmentally
challenged (DC) boy. The occurrences of SFPs in their speech are
tabulated in Table 23.2 (the interpretations of the particles are by
Watamaki). The data for the NH child are derived from Okubo (1967)
when her female subject was between one and a half and two years of age

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and between two years and one month and three years.
Table 23.2 Acquisition of SFPs.
Autistic DC NH NH

Age (years) 6 5 1;6–2;0 2;1–3;0

Utterances 580 530 809 1,934

yo (intimacy) 3 29 65 186

ne (sympathy) 0 25 44 292

no (neutral) 0 2 111 343

kana (suggestion) 0 20 1 1

na (exclamatory) 0 7 0 6

mon (regret, discontent) 0 4 7 23

kara (determination) 0 1 8 54

-tte (quotation) 0 2 16 22

zo (emphasis) 0 3 1 1

no (question) 32 0 0 0

-te (request) 6 18 65 113

ka (doubt) 3 4 2 21

TOTAL 44 115 320 1,062

The autistic child rarely used interactional particles and never used ne.
Given that ne is the most commonly used particle among NH adult
speakers (Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyūjo 1955: 118; Maynard 1997: 88), its
total absence in this autistic subject’s speech is quite noticeable, yet not
totally unexpected. Another noteworthy fact is that, with the NH child, ne
and yo occur almost equally in frequency during a very early period, but

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then, like in adult speech, the use of ne surpasses yo.
1 In this study, soliloquy data were collected experimentally from 24
native speakers of Japanese, who spoke for 10–15 minutes while alone in
an isolated room.
2 The copula must be omitted before kashira, e.g. *sō da kashira;
however, when the copula is in the polite form, it can be used as a
politeness indicator, e.g. sō desu kashira.
3 In this phrase, the accent falls on /ka/, káeru, and the subsequent
syllables are pronounced with a sustained low pitch contour.
4 The only exception to this generalization that comes to mind is mate
yo↑ ‘wait!’, which can occur in soliloquy. Interestingly, mate yo↓ seems
to require the presence of an addressee.

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 24 Modality and evidentiality
24.1 Modality
A useful way to analyze sentences is to parse them into the content (≈
factual) part and the part that expresses the speaker’s attitude toward the
content. For example, in (1a), the content is the speaker’s attendance at the
meeting, and I must expresses the speaker’s attitude, namely, a feeling of
obligation to perform this action. In (1b), Joan attended the meeting is the
content, and I think expresses the speaker’s attitude of wanting to assert
this statement without absolute certainty.
(1) a. I must attend the meeting.
b.I think Joan attended the meeting.
The aspect of a speaker’s utterance that expresses his/her attitude is
referred to as MODALITY, which in Western scholarship is traditionally
divided into DEONTIC MODALITY and EPISTEMIC MODALITY.1
24.1.1 Deontic modality
The term deontic is derived from the Greek word deon that means ‘what is
binding’; deontic modality, therefore, concerns obligation and permission.
Obligation in Japanese is typically expressed by double negation “it cannot
go without doing ~” – e.g. nakereba naranai, nakereba ikenai, nakute wa
naranai, nakute wa ikenai, nai wake ni wa ikanai. Nakereba naranai is
considered more formal than other expressions and frequently used in legal
documents.
(2) The Constitution of Japan, Article 66
Naikaku- sonota no kokumu-daijin wa, bunmin de
sōri-
daijin

prime- other GEN minister.of.state TOP civilian COP

minister

nakereba naranai.

must

‘The Prime Minister and other Ministers of State must be civilians.’

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 By contrast, when obligation is decided by one’s own will, the use of
nakereba ikenai or nakute wa naranai/ikenai is fairly common though
nakereba naranai can also be used.
(3)
Motto yasai o tabe nakereba ikenai/nakute wa
[naranai/ikenai].

more vegetable ACC eat must

‘(I) must eat more vegetables.’

Rather than using double negation, beki da ‘ought to ~’ can be used to

express obligation affirmatively:
(4)
Sore wa chokusetsu honnin ni hanasu beki da.

that TOP directly person to tell ought COP.NPST

‘(You) ought to tell it directly to the person.’

Permission is normally expressed using the te-form followed by (mo) ii

‘it is (also) good/acceptable to do ~’.
(5)
Kyō wa hayaku kaet-te (mo) ii.

today TOP early return-TE (also) good.NPST

‘(You) can go home early today.’

Prohibition is expressed using the te-form followed by wa ikenai or wa

naranai.
(6) The Constitution of Japan, Article 19
Shisō oyobi ryōshin no jiyū wa, kore o

thought and conscience GEN freedom TOP this ACC

‘Freedom of thought and conscience shall not be violated.’

24.1.2 Epistemic modality

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The term epistemic is derived from the Greek word episteme meaning
‘knowledge’. Epistemic modality concerns the truth, falsity, or various
degrees of probability of the content. There are many ways to express
epistemic modality, and in Japanese, when the speaker is certain about the
validity of the content, the following expressions are typically employed.
(7) a. Simple declarative sentence with or without an epistemic adverb
Buchō wa (tashikani) kaigi ni shusseki [shita/shinakatta

manager TOP (certainly) meeting to attendance [did/did.not]

‘(It is certain that) the manager [attended/did not attend] the meeting.’
b. Ni chigai nai ‘discrepancy does not exist’
Buchō wa kaigi ni shusseki shita ni chigai

manager TOP meeting to attended in discrepancy

‘There is no doubt the manager attended the meeting.’

Epistemic adverbs include zettai ni ‘absolutely’, kanarazu ‘without a

doubt/without fail’, kitto ‘surely’, tabun ‘probably’, osoraku ‘maybe’, and
moshika shite/hyotto shite ‘possibly/maybe’. When the speaker is
uncertain about the reliability of information, the following expressions are
commonly added to the tensed predicate.2
(8) a. Hazu da ‘be bound to’
Buchō wa kaigi ni shusseki shita hazu da.

manager TOP meeting to attended bound.to COP.NPST

‘The manager [must/was supposed to] have attended the meeting.’

b. Omou ‘I think’
Buchō wa kaigi ni shusseki shita to omou.

manager TOP meeting to attended QUOT I.think

‘I think the manager attended the meeting.’

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 c. Darō/Deshō, the conjectural form of the copula
Buchō wa kaigi ni shusseki shita darō/deshō.

manager TOP meeting to attended COP.CNJ

‘It’s likely the manager attended the meeting.’

d.Ka mo shirenai ‘it cannot be known whether or not ~’
Buchō wa kaigi ni shusseki ka mo shirenai.
shita

manager TOP meeting to attended INT also can.not.know

‘The manager might have attended the meeting.’

e. (Yōna) ki ga suru ‘I feel that ~’
Buchō wa kaigi ni shusseki (yōna) ki ga
shita

manager TOP meeting to attended (that) feel NOM

‘I feel (that) the manager may have attended the meeting.’

24.2 Evidentiality
Epistemic modality expressions signify the speaker’s judgment regarding
the truth, falsity, or probability of the content without clarifying the basis
upon which the judgment is made. On the other hand, the speaker’s
epistemic stance can also be expressed by mentioning evidence. This type
of epistemic modality is referred to as EVIDENTIALITY. The most
common evidential expressions in Japanese are sō da, -tte, yō da, mitai da,
and rashii.
24.2.1 Sō da
Sō da is used to convey two types of evidentiality differentiated by the
conjugation form of the preceding predicate. When attached to the
adverbial form of a verb (see Section 6.1) or to the stem of an i- or na-
adjective,3 it indicates that some circumstance makes the speaker
determine that the event in question is likely to happen in the future (in the
case of a dynamic verb) as in (9a), or that some state of affairs is likely to

462
exist (in the case of an adjective or a stative verb) as in (9b–9c). This use
of sō da does not occur with a nominal predicate (i.e. a noun + the
copula), e.g. *isha sō da ‘looks like a physician’.
(9) a.
Fukyō na kaisha wa shain o kaiko
node,

depression because company TOP employee ACC dismissal

‘Because of the economic depression, the company seems about to dismiss some
of its employees.’
b.
Kono ryōri wa oishi-sō da. [i-adjective]

this dish TOP delicious-EVID

‘This dish looks delicious.’

c.
Kono eiga wa kōshō-sō da.4 [na-adjective]

this movie TOP high.brow-EVID

‘This movie seems high-brow to me.’

The speaker of (9a) anticipates dismissal of employees based on the bad

economy. Even when the basis for such conjecture is not explicit, e.g. (9b–
9c), the presence of sō da strongly implies that the speaker can provide
evidence if solicited.
When sō da follows a tensed predicate, it indicates that the content is
hearsay as exemplified in (10).
(10) a.
Mata gakuhi ga neage sareru sō da.

again tuition NOM increase do.PASS.NPST EVID

‘I hear that tuition will be raised again.’

b.
Sono eiga wa tsumaranakatta sō da. [i-adjective]

that movie TOP boring.PAST EVID

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 ‘I hear the movie was boring.’
c.
Kono jinja wa yūmei da sō [na-
da. adjective]

this shrine TOP famous COP.NPST EVID

‘I hear this shrine is famous.’

d.
Hannin wa miseinen datta sō [noun +
da. copula]

culprit TOP minor COP.PAST EVID

‘I hear the culprit was a minor.’

24.2.2 -Tte
In casual speech, hearsay information is frequently marked with -tte, a
variation of the quotative particle to (see Section 15.3).
(11)
Daigaku tōkyoku wa gakuhi o neage suru

university administration TOP tuition ACC increase do

‘The university administration said that (they) would increase the tuition.’

Although -tte is derived from to, it can also function in casual speech as
a SFP, whereas to cannot serve as such.
(12)
Daigaku tōkyoku wa gakuhi o neage suru

university administration TOP tuition ACC increase do

‘The university administration said that (they) would increase the tuition.’

Furthermore, Mushin (2001) points out that in quotative sentences, the

quoted speaker can be identical with the reporting speaker, as in (13);

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however, when used as an SFP, the quoted speaker and the reported
speaker must be distinct, as in (14). That is, -tte must be considered as a
genuine hearsay marker.
(13)
Watashi wa okāsan ni daigaku o yameru [to/-
tte]

I TOP mother to university ACC quit [QUOT

‘I said to (my) mom that (I)’d quit university.’

(14)
[#Watashi/Otōto] wa daigaku o yameru [#to/-
tte].

[I/my.brother] TOP university ACC quit [QUOT]

‘I heard that [#I/(my) brother] would quit university.’

24.2.3 Yō da/mitai da
Like the conjectural sō da, yō da, and mitai da denote that the speaker has
some evidence for asserting the content. Yō da and mitai da are
interchangeable, the latter being more colloquial than the former.
(15) a.
Hōan wa kaketsu sareta [yō da/mitai da].

bill TOP approval do.PASS.PAST [EVID]

‘It seems that the bill was approved.’

b.
Shiken wa muzukashikatta [yō [i-
da/mitai adjective]
da].

examination TOP difficult.PAST [EVID]

‘Apparently, the examination was difficult.’

When a na-adjective or a nominal predicate refers to a past situation, the

copula datta is employed as in the case of the hearsay sō da. However,
irregularities occur when it refers to a non-past situation. With a na-

465
adjective, yō da requires the attributive form of the copula, na, while mitai
da attaches directly to the stem of the na-adjective as in (15c). With a
nominal predicate, e.g. (15d), yō da requires the attributive form of the
copula, no, and mitai da attaches directly to the noun.
c.
Kotoshi no tenkō wa ijō [na yō da/mitai [na
da]. adjective]

this.year GEN weather TOP abnormal [COP EVID/EVID]

‘The weather this year seems abnormal.’

d.
Ashita wa ame [no yō da/mitai da]. [noun + copula]

tomorrow TOP rain [COP EVID/EVID]

‘It seems like there may be rain tomorrow.’

The major difference between the conjectural sō da on the one hand and
yō/mitai da on the other is that the latter can accompany predicates in the
past tense while the former, which attaches to the tenseless adverbial form,
cannot. That is, the conjectural sō da can provide an indication only about
a present or future situation. Another difference is that sō da is used to
express more intuitive inferences, whereas yō/mitai da elicits more logical
ones. For example, in (9b), the speaker thinks that the meal is delicious by
merely seeing it, whereas if yō/mitai da is used instead, the speaker’s
inference will likely be based on circumstantial evidence, e.g. observing
many people ordering it.
24.2.4 Rashii
Rashii, which was introduced in Section 6.7 as a suffix that derives an
adjective from a noun, can function as an evidential auxiliary when
following a tensed predicate, and is often interchangeable with yō/mitai da
as in (16).
(16)
Kotoshi no kaze wa, onaka ga itaku [rashii/yō
naru da/mitai
da].

this.year GEN flu TOP stomach NOM hurt [EVID]

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 ‘It seems that this year’s flu can cause abdominal pain.’

To demonstrate differences among these evidentials, Moriyama (1989:

68–69) proposes a co-occurrence test involving the use of omou ni ‘in my
opinion’.
(17) a.
Omou ni, rainen atari kyōkō ga ki-s

in.my.opinion next.year around financial.crisis NOM come-

‘In my opinion, a financial crisis is likely to occur sometime next year.’

b. Omou ni, rainen atari kyōkō ga kuru [yō/mitai da].
c. #Omou ni, rainen atari kyōkō ga kuru sō da.
The conjectural sō da in (17a) and yō/mitai da in (17b) can co-occur
naturally with omou ni, which indicates that these evidentials are compatible
when expressing inference. By clear contrast, the hearsay sō da in (17c)
not accommodate omou ni because these two expressions are semantically
contradictory.
d. ??Omou ni, rainen atari kyōkō ga kuru rashii.
The lower acceptability of (17d) demands more scrutiny. Miyake (1995:
188) contends that evidentials are used under two circumstances: (i) when
the inference is made prior to the speech time, and (ii) when it is made on
site. In the former, rashii suggests that the basis for making the inference
is hearsay, although, unlike the genuine hearsay marker sō da, the content
itself is not hearsay. Therefore, it cannot co-occur with omou ni as in
(17d). When an inference is made on site and at the speech time, the
evidence implied by rashii is not restricted to hearsay. For example, in
(18), the speaker has just witnessed the lights being off and made the
inference accordingly. In this situation, rashii can co-occur with omou ni.
(18)
Denki ga kiete Omou ni, mada kaette rashii.
iru. inai

light NOM is.off in.my.opinion yet return.not EVID

‘The lights are off. In my opinion, (she) has not come home yet.’

Another difference between yō/mitai da and rashii is that the former can
be used simply for softening an assertion, whereas the latter cannot be

467
used for such a purpose. For example, when one witnesses his/her friend
having gained weight, (19a) is acceptable, but (19b) is not.
(19) a.
Sukoshi futotta [yō/mitai da] ne.

a.little have.gained.weight [EVID] SFP

‘It looks like you have gained a little weight.’

b. #Sukoshi futotta rashii ne.
24.2.5 Other types of evidential expressions
In English, one can use the same word to describe the mental states
(psychological, emotional, sensation, etc.) of both oneself and of other
persons.
(20) a. [I’m/Alice is] cold.
b. [I want/Alice wants] coffee.
c. [I want/Alice wants] to watch TV.
d. [I think/Alice thinks] Bill is smart.
However, these predicates are interpreted differently. When I say I want
coffee, I know I want coffee, and I am entitled to say so because I am the
owner of that desire. By contrast, when I say Alice wants coffee, I am
reporting my inference or conveying hearsay information.
In Japanese, one needs to use different phrases when talking about
another person’s mental state. Such phrases, e.g. the b-sentences below,
are categorized as evidentials.5 Those expressions that take only first-
person subjects are called PSYCH-PREDICATES.6
(21) a.
Watashi wa samui.

I TOP cold.NPST

‘I’m cold.’
b.
Arisu wa samu-gatte iru.

TOP cold-EVID

‘Alice shows signs of feeling cold.’

468
(22) a.
Watashi wa kōhī ga hoshii.

I TOP coffee NOM want

‘I want (some) coffee.’

b.
Arisu wa kōhī o hoshi-gatte iru.7

TOP coffee ACC want-EVID

‘Alice shows signs of wanting coffee.’

(23) a.
Watashi wa terebi [ga/o] mi-tai.8

I TOP TV [NOM/ACC] watch-want

‘I want to watch TV.’

b.
Arisu wa terebi o mi-ta-gatte iru.

TOP coffee ACC watch-want-EVID

‘Alice shows signs of wanting to watch TV.’

(24) a.
Watashi wa Biru wa atama ga ii to omou

I TOP TOP head NOM good QUOT think

‘I think Bill is smart.’

b.
Arisu wa Biru wa atama ga ii to omotte
iru.

TOP TOP head NOM good QUOT is.thinking

‘Alice thinks [Lit. is thinking] that Bill is smart.’

When a psych-predicate is used with a third-person subject, e.g. (21b,

469
22b, 23b), the use of the auxiliary -gatte iru is obligatory. With omou, a
third-person subject requires -te iru as in (24b). This construction usually
expresses the present progressive aspect. Nakau (1994: 51) explains that,
as a modality expression, omou refers to the speech time. Of all the mental
attitudes that manifest themselves simultaneously with the time of speech,
it is only his/her own mental state that is accessible to the speaker.
Therefore, the use of omou with a third-person subject results in anomaly.
Omotte iru, on the other hand, is an expression for the continuous present
and can be used to describe a mental activity of a third-person as well as
the speaker him/herself.
24.3 Information territory
In conversations in Japanese, non-native speakers might respond in a
grammatical, yet anomalous way as demonstrated in (25B).
(25) A:
Ii otenki desu ne.

good weather COP.NPST SFP

‘It’s a fine day, isn’t it?’

B:
#Hai, sō desu.

yes so COP.NPST

‘Yes, it is.’

In English, this exchange is natural, but in Japanese, speaker B must

utilize the SFP ne to echo speaker A’s use of the same particle (Chapter
23). In order to discuss the oddity of (25B) and related phenomena, this
section introduces Kamio’s (1994, 1995) idea of information territory.
24.3.1 The theory of territory of information
Kamio posits two conceptual categories involving information, including
how that information is used linguistically: the speaker’s and the
addressee’s TERRITORY OF INFORMATION. A piece of information is
said to fall into one’s own territory if one of the following contingencies
applies:
(26) a. the information is obtained through one’s internal direct experience
(e.g. pain, emotions, beliefs);

470
 b.the information falls into one’s professional or other areas of
expertise;
c. the information is obtained by direct experience through the five
senses;
d.the information is about persons, objects, events, and facts close to
oneself, e.g. the birthday of one’s self or one’s spouse.
Consider this situation derived from Kamio (1995: 241–42): John, the
president of a company, and Tom, his business associate, are talking in
John’s office. Susan, John’s secretary, informs John, You have a meeting
at three. When three o’clock approaches, John can say, I have a meeting at
three. However, it would sound odd for Tom to say, You have a meeting at
three. Instead, he is likely to say, I guess/believe/understand you have a
meeting at three. Both John and Tom have obtained the information at the
same time from the same source, but because it is about John’s schedule,
i.e. in John’s information territory, Tom needs to employ a hedged,
indirect statement. As demonstrated by this example, Kamio contends, the
concept of information territory is relevant in language use, and the
Japanese language is particularly sensitive to it.
In Japanese, information in one’s own territory is expressed directly
without any evidential expressions, while information outside one’s
territory must be expressed indirectly with an evidential expression or the
conjectural darō/deshō. The former constitute DIRECT FORMS, the latter
INDIRECT FORMS.
Consider another situation derived from Kamio (1994: 72–73): Taro is
ill, and his friend, Noboru, visits him. If Noboru sees Taro lying in bed, he
can say (27a), which is in a direct form. However, if Noboru cannot see
Taro and is told by Taro’s mother that Taro is ill, (27a) is inappropriate.
Instead, an indirect form as in (27b) must be employed.
(27) a.
Tarō wa byōki desu.

TOP ill COP.POL.NPST

‘Taro is ill.’
b.
Tarō wa byōki [da-tte/rashii].

TOP ill [COP-SFP/EVID]

471
 ‘(I hear/It seems) Taro is ill.’

By contrast, if Taro’s father, who lives separately from his family,

obtains the same information from Taro’s mother by telephone and tells it
to his colleague, (27a) is appropriate, even though, like Noboru, he did not
see Taro in bed. In fact, an indirect form like (27b) gives the impression
that the father is indifferent to his son’s welfare. This is because the son’s
health situation falls within the father’s territory of information.
24.3.2 Four cases of information
Kamio recognizes four distinct cases of information within his theory. The
four cases are represented in Figure 24.1, and Kamio extrapolates upon
each case.9 In case A, a given piece of information falls within the
speaker’s territory but not within the addressee’s. In this case, a direct
form must be selected. As seen in the a-sentences in (21–24), the most
salient examples of this are reports of how one feels. English also requires
a direct form in this case; the use of an indirect form results in the anomaly
illustrated in (28).
(28) a. I have a headache.
b. #I seem to have a headache.

Figure 24.1. Territories of information.

In case B, a piece of information falls within the speaker’s as well as the
addressee’s territory as exemplified in (25). In this case, Japanese requires
the use of a direct form accompanied by the SFP ne.10 Another example of
case B is provided in (29).
(29)
Kimi, sukoshi yaseta ne.

you a.little lost.weight SFP

472
 ‘You’ve lost a little weight, haven’t you?’

Although the information here concerns the addressee’s personal

appearance, and thus falls inherently within the addressee’s territory, it is
also in the speaker’s territory because he has obtained it by observation,
i.e. via direct external experience. In English, cases A and B are not
distinguished, direct forms utilized for both:
(30) a. It’s a beautiful day.
b. You’ve lost some weight.
Information in case C is in the addressee’s territory but not in that of the
speaker. This situation requires an evidential expression followed by ne.
Neither the direct form, with or without ne (31b), nor the indirect form
without ne (31c) sounds natural in this case.
(31) a.
Anata wa kibun ga warui mitai desu ne.

you TOP feeling NOM bad EVID SFP

‘You look like you’re sick.’

b. #Anata wa kibun ga warui desu (ne).
c. #Anata wa kibun ga warui mitai desu.
Case C in English requires an indirect form:
(32) a. I hear your German is excellent.
b. You seem worried.
c. #You feel dizzy.
Case D refers to the situation in which a piece of information belongs in
neither the speaker’s nor the addressee’s territory. In such a case, indirect
forms of various sorts are used without ne.
(33) a.
Ano eiga wa omoshiroi [sō da/mitai da] yo.

that movie TOP interesting [EVID/EVID] SFP

‘[I hear/It looks like] that movie is interesting.’

b.
Ashita wa hareru darō.

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 tomorrow TOP get.fair COP.CNJ

‘I’m supposing the weather will be fine tomorrow.’

Like in case C, indirect forms are utilized in case D in English.

(34) a. I hear summer in Alaska is beautiful.
b. This computer seems to have broken down.
24.3.3 Obligatory vs. optional ne
Unlike cases B and C, in which the use of ne is obligatory, many cases
exist where the use of ne is optional. For example, (35) and (36B) are
instances of case A, and (37) is in case D. Optional ne functions to soften
the locution and, therefore, expresses politeness.
(35)
Chotto yūbinkyoku e itte kimasu ne.

a.little post.office to go SFP

‘I’m going to the post office for a little while.’

(36) A:
Kore ikura desu ka?

this how.much COP INT

‘How much is this?’

B:
500 en desu ne.

yen COP SFP

‘(It’s) 500 yen.’

(37)
Ashita wa hareru deshō ne.

tomorrow TOP get.fair COP.CNJ SFP

‘I’m supposing the weather will be fine tomorrow.’

24.3.4 Hearsay

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Information gained by hearsay is treated differently in Japanese and in
English. In Japanese, it is not considered to belong to the speaker’s
territory,11 whereas in English it is, if the information source is deemed
reliable. Consider this situation, derived from Kamio (1995: 243): Jack, a
friend of the Clark family, phones Jane Clark and says that he will visit
them soon. Then Jane’s mother asks her
(38) M: What did Jack say?
J: He’s coming to visit us soon.

Jane can respond with a direct form as in (34J), but such an exchange is
unacceptable in Japanese, where the use of a hearsay marker is obligatory.
(39) J:
Kondo asobi ni kuru-tte.

soon play for come-QUOT

‘I hear (he) will visit (us) soon.’

Because of this difference in expressing hearsay information in the two

languages, native speakers of English frequently forget to employ hearsay
markers when speaking Japanese (Kamada 2000: 169–70), thereby
creating the impression that they are aggressively assertive when in all
probability this is not the case.
1 In Japanese linguistics (e.g. Moriyama 1989; Nitta 1989; Iwasaki 2002),
a more common division of modality is between the speaker’s attitude
toward the content, i.e. epistemic, and that toward his/her way of
communication with the addressee. The latter is a broader category than
deontic modality, including concerns about desire, speech acts (Chapter
19), sentence-final particles (Chapter 23), etc. This different
conceptualization of modality is due in part to the significant
characteristics of the Japanese language, which grammatically encodes
many communicative intentions and functions.
2 See Moriyama (1995) for details of these epistemic modality
expressions.
3 Sō da must be added to the irregular forms of the adjectives ii ‘good’
and nai ‘non-existent’ resulting in yosa-sō da and nasa-sō da,
respectively, not *i-sō da and *na-sō da.
4 Many na-adjectives do not co-occur with sō da, e.g. futō ‘unjust’,

475
haruka ‘far’, yūmei ‘famous’.
5 See Aoki (1986) and Hasegawa and Hirose (2005) for further
discussion.
6 This restriction on the possible subject is not due to any grammatical
constraints, but, rather, to a common understanding about the accessibility
of information, i.e. the impossibility of perceiving other persons’ mental
states. In fiction, psych-predicates can take a third-person subject, as the
author is the omniscient creator and therefore has direct access to
characters’ mental states. Banfield (1982) refers to such sentences as
UNSPEAKABLE SENTENCES.
7 While hoshii is an i-adjective whose conceptual object is marked by the
nominative ga, hoshigaru is a u-verb and its direct object is marked by the
accusative o (see Section 7.6).
8 The fluctuation between ga and o marking is discussed in Section 7.7.
9 Kamio posits two additional cases. However, they are based on
psychological distance between a given piece of information and the
speaker or the addressee, a concept that is not readily compatible with the
spatial metaphor of territory. Therefore, they are not included in this
chapter. See Kamio (1994) for these additional cases.
10 This characterization of ne is made from a different perspective, but it
does not contradict essentially with the explanations provided in
Subsection 23.4.1.
11 Hearsay information is generally treated as falling outside one’s
territory until it has been thoroughly processed and absorbed into one’s
body of knowledge. This process involves the integration of a given piece
of information with various relevant linguistic and non-linguistic data
already acquired.

476
 25 Backchanneling
25.1 Introduction
The roles of speaker and listener constantly alternate in typical
conversation. Person A is the speaker in a given moment, with B as the
listener; then B takes his/her turn to speak, while A becomes the listener.
Goffman (1974: 136) characterizes this state of affairs as follows.
Talk is socially organized, not merely in terms of who speaks to
whom in what language, but as a little system of mutually ratified and
ritually governed face-to-face action, a social encounter. Once a state
of talk has been ratified, cues must be available for requesting the
floor and giving it up, for informing the speaker as to the stability of
the focus of attention he is receiving. Intimate collaboration must be
sustained to ensure that one turn at talking neither overlaps the
previous one too much, nor wants for inoffensive conversational
supply, for someone’s turn must always and exclusively be in
progress.
In both English-speaking societies and Japan, possibly worldwide, the
conversational norm consists of one person speaking at a time, with the
speaker changing in an orderly manner. If someone starts speaking while
you are talking, you are likely to be offended. By contrast, if a speaker
ends his/her utterance and a dead silence follows, it might be embarrassing
to those present as most people feel a need to avoid silences during
conversations. These tacit rules of conversation are studied in linguistics
and other academic disciplines in terms of taking the FLOOR (i.e. the right
to speak in interaction) or TURN-TAKING. For such investigation, Sacks et
al. (1974) developed an analytical framework, CONVERSATION
ANALYSIS, which has been widely used for describing the orderliness and
sequential patterns of verbal interaction.
One of the fundamental concepts in conversation analysis is the TURN
CONSTRUCTIONAL UNIT, which is a stretch of speech determined
grammatically (phrase, clause, sentence), pragmatically (question, request,
etc.), and/or intonationally (falling pitch, pause, etc.).1 A turn
constructional unit allows a listener to project how an utterance will be
completed, enabling the listener to plan how to react to it well in advance.
This ability to forecast makes possible the split-second precision of
speaker-role change that is observed frequently in conversation. The end
of a turn constructional unit is called a TRANSITION RELEVANCE PLACE,

477
a place at which a transition to another speaker might occur naturally.
It is well known that a participant who assumes the role of listener
occasionally produces short phrases to acknowledge that the current
speaker’s turn is in progress. Such short utterances, which do not claim the
floor, are termed AIZUCHI ‘backchannel’, and certain non-verbal
behaviors such as responsive laughter and head movement (e.g. nodding),
among other expressive gestures, are backchannels notifying the speaker
that s/he still holds the floor.
Examine the following 30-second segment of a conversation derived
from an Internet talk show with four participants: a host (H: Hakase
SUIDOBASHI) and three guests (M: Tetsuya MIYAZAKI, S: Shinji
MIYADAI, T: Hideto TOMABECHI).2 The equals sign (=) indicates
LATCHING, i.e. no interval between the end of the prior utterance and start
of the next; brackets indicate regions of overlap; the arrows mark aizuchi.
(1) Talk Show Part 1, from 2:25 (2 minutes 25 seconds) to 2:55
1 H:

ano kankēsē to ieba ne, kono ofutari

well relationship speaking.of SFP this two.HON

‘speaking about the relationship between these two, they are known as
→ 2 T: = un
‘ok’
→ 3 M: = hai hai
‘yes, yes’
4 H:

e konbi o kunde ne

eh pair ACC form SFP

‘they’ve formed a duo’

→ 5 T: = un
‘yeah’
6 H:

shakaijihyō o zutto yattemashi [ta Saiz

social.commentary ACC long.time did

478
 ‘commenting in Saizo magazine on social issues’
→ 7 T: [un
‘yeah’
8 H:

dē koko de mata fukkatsu shite itadaite desune

and here at again revival do receive SFP

‘and this talk show program revived it, and’

9 M: hai
‘yes’
10 H:

ē ikani ē ronkyaku to sugoi ka-tte iu

shite no

how critic as excellent CMPL

itadakimashita keredomo

received though

‘we’ve appreciated how extraordinary they are as commentators’

11

soshite Tomabechi- wā ofutari to menshiki

san

and TOP two with acquaintance

12 T: = kekkō
‘occasionally’
13 H:

Miyadai-san to no men [shiki wa?

with GEN acquaintance TOP

‘how about with Mr. Miyadai?’

479
14 M:

[iya watashi wa kono 3-nin ga

no I TOP this 3-people NOM

kō sorotta -tte hajimete

this.way gather CMPL first.time

‘well, for me, it’s the first time to see these three together’
→ 15 H:

a sō desu ka

oh so COP INT

‘oh, really?’
16 S:

= iya iya sonna koto nai desho?

no no such thing NEG COP.CNJ

‘no, I don’t think so’

17

datte Saizō de

because in

‘because we met for Saizo’

18 T:

= M3 yatte

doing

‘for the article entitled M3’

→ 19 M: a sō ka
‘oh, that’s right’

480
 20 S: = M3 de
‘for M3’
→ 21 M:

are M3 ka

that INT

‘that’s right, M3’

Up to line 13, H (the host) takes the floor, and T and M support his turn
by backchanneling in lines 2, 3, 5, 7, and 9. In line 12, T anticipates H’s
question and starts to answer it. H completes his question in line 13. M
then takes the floor in line 14, answering the question, and H
acknowledges this new speakership in line 15. In lines 16–17, S takes the
floor and objects to M’s response. Then, T completes M’s statement in line
18. This kind of utterance is called a CO-CONSTRUCTION, or
COLLABORATIVE FINISH. In line 19, M realizes that his previous answer
was deficient while S continues his utterance in line 20. M repeats his
correction in line 21. Whether or not to categorize lines 15, 19 and 21 as
backchannels depends upon researchers’ perspectives (see Section 25.3
below).
Researchers recognize that Japanese speakers constantly and
consistently supply aizuchi in conversation, and some even consider a high
rate of aizuchi to characterize Japanese conversation style as a whole.
Nevertheless, the frequency of use of aizuchi varies considerably from
person to person. This chapter discusses some findings on backchannel
behavior among Japanese, English, and, to a lesser extent, Chinese
speakers.
25.2 Frequencies of backchannels in Japanese and
American English
Comparing forty videotaped three-minute segments of dyadic
conversations in Japanese and American English, Maynard (1990) reports
the following regarding the Japanese conversations:5
a. The frequency of backchannels across 20 Japanese pairs totaled
871.
b. Of the 871 cases, 703 occurred in the immediate neighborhood of
pauses or breaks in tempo made by the primary speaker. (Pauses
normally occur at the major clausal and sentential junctures, e.g. at

481
 the juncture of a subordinate clause.)
c. 70.5 percent of the backchannels were brief expressions, e.g. un
‘uh-huh’, honto ‘really’, and sō ‘I see’.
d. Head movement accompanied these backchannels 62.9 percent of
the time.
e. Head movement alone without verbal expressions accounted for
18.8 percent.
f. Backchannels consisting of laughter occurred 10.7 percent of the
time.
Maynard also recognizes that pauses are frequently accompanied by
such linguistic devices as SFPs (p. 406). Note that in (1), the SFP ne
occurs at the end of lines 4, 6, and 8, and that each time a backchannel is
supplied by a listener. Ne also occurs in line 11, but this time, a response
(attempting to take the floor) follows, rather than a backchannel. In
Maynard’s data, SFPs occurred in 40.8 percent of all the cases when a
backchannel was supplied. Auxiliary verbal endings (e.g. deshō? ‘isn’t it
right?’ and ja-nai? ‘isn’t it?’) functioned similarly to SFPs, and 51 percent
of backchannels occurred at a major grammatical juncture (p. 406).
Another characteristic reported by Maynard is that Japanese speakers
frequently perform a vertical head movement at or near the final syllable
of an utterance. Of all the backchannels in her data, 38.1 percent occurred
in the context of speaker head movement (pp. 406–07). Regarding the
American conversations (p. 408):
a. The overall frequency of backchannels across 20 American pairs
totaled 428.
b. Of the 428 cases, 373 occurred at or near a pause.
c. The American pairs produced far fewer back channels than did the
Japanese pairs (871 instances).
d. Like the Japanese pairs, the most frequently occurring were such
brief expressions as uh-huh, yeah, and right, totaling 50.2 percent
of all backchannels.
e. Head movement accompanied backchannels 50.7 percent of the
time, less frequently than in the Japanese data (62.9 percent).
f. Head movement without verbal expressions occurred in 35 percent
of backchannels, more frequently than in the Japanese data (18.8
percent).
g. Laughter backchannels occurred 14.7 percent of the time,
somewhat more frequently than in the Japanese data (10.7
percent).

482
 h. 82.8 percent of backchannels occurred at a point of grammatical
completion (clause or sentence). Thus, the grammatical
completion point is the single most salient context for
backchanneling in English.
25.3 Timing of backchannels
Clancy et al. (1996) examine audiotaped face-to-face conversations of
pairs of friends in three languages: Japanese (9 conversations, totaling 23
minutes), English (8 conversations, 44 minutes), and Chinese (8
conversations, 23 minutes). Some pairs are of the same sex while others
are of the opposite sex. Clancy et al. contend that non-primary speakers’
utterances to support the on-going speaker’s floor, which they refer to
collectively as REACTIVE TOKENS (RTs), should be divided into several
categories.
a. Backchannel: a non-lexical vocalic form: e.g. un, hē (Japanese);
hm, uh huh (English); ūm, aī (Chinese).
b. REACTIVE EXPRESSION: a lexical word or phrase: e.g. hai ‘yes’,
hontō ‘really’, a sō ka ‘I see’ (Japanese); oh really, yeah, exactly
(English); dui ‘right’, jiushi a ‘indeed’ (Chinese).
c. Collaborative finish (i.e. co-construction): a non-primary speaker
finishes the previous speaker’s utterance.
d. REPETITION: a non-primary speaker repeats the primary speaker’s
utterance.
e. RESUMPTIVE OPENER: a non-lexical element that is used at a
turn-initial point; it would be a backchannel were it not followed
by floor-taking.
A collaborative finish is observed in (1) at line 18. (2) is an example of
repetition, (d), derived from the Talk Show Part 1 video, from 1:11 to 1:23.
In this segment, each guest holds in front of him a poster summarizing his
professional accomplishments. T holds a large panel that obstructs his
face, about which M comments:
(2) 1 M:
nan ja sore wa ((laughter))

what COP that TOP

‘what’s that?’
2:

483
 kao ga mien yan kē ((laughter))

face NOM can’t.see SFP

‘your face is hidden’

3 T: ((laughter))
4 H:

datte kore futsū ni hon ni aru

but this normally book in exist

5:

ano chosha shōkai kondake nagain desu yo

well author introduction this- long COP SFP

much

‘but his self-introduction that appears in each of his books is

this long’
6 T:

dokomo kezuru tokoro ga nakatta no

no-place omit place NOM did-not-exist SFP

‘nothing could be omitted’

→ 7 M:

dokomo kezuru tokoro ga nakatta no

‘nothing could be omitted’

Resumptive openers, (e), are exemplified by the Talk Show video Part 2,
from 1:30 to 1:44.6
(3) 1 S:
masu media nanka ni

mass media like DAT

484
2 H: = un
3 S:

= ga kansatsu shikaku ga aru to

shakai dekiru

society NOM can.observe capacity NOM exist QUOT

omotteru jiten de ōmachigai de

think point at big-mistake COP.and

‘we are mistaken if we think that mass media are capable of

observing society’
4 H: = un
5 S:

= masu media jishin ga

self NOM

6 H: = un
7 S:

= kansatsu beki shakai genshō dakara ne

sareru

be.observed ought.to society phenomenon because SFP

‘the mass media themselves are a social phenomenon that ought

to be observed’
8 H: = un un
9 S:

= shakai no byōri o masu ga

dakara media

so society GEN pathology ACC NOM

10:

= [kaisetsu suru nante omottara machigai

485
 explain CMPL if-think mistake

‘so, it’s wrong to think that they can explain social problems’
11 M: [a sō sō sō sō
12 S:

= [masu ga saidai byōri desu kara ne

media no

NOM greatest pathology COP because SFP

‘because mass media are the largest social problem’

13 M: [sō sō sō sō
→ 14:

sō sō sō [sore wa tadashiku-[te

that TOP correct-TE

‘that’s correct, and’

15 S:

[un [un

In line 14, M starts with an aizuchi (sō sō sō) and then commences
speaking in turn. Clancy et al. consider this type of utterance a resumptive
opener.
Clancy et al. compare and contrast RTs in the three languages,
presenting these findings:
a. Japanese and English speakers used RTs more frequently than did
Chinese speakers. The RT frequencies in these languages were
39.5 percent (Japanese), 37.3 percent (English), and 10 percent
(Chinese).
b. In Japanese, 68 percent of all RTs were backchannels, 17 percent
reactive expressions, and 12.5 percent resumptive openers.
c. In English, 37.9 percent were backchannels, 34.2 percent reactive
expressions, and 10.4 percent resumptive openers.
d. In Chinese, 47.2 percent were backchannels, 31.1 percent reactive
expressions, and 14.5 percent resumptive openers.
In order to obtain average frequencies of RTs, they divided the number

486
of RTs by all speaker changes regardless of turn shifting. For example, in
(1), there are 19 speaker changes (counting line 1 as a change), of which 9
are RTs, according to Clancy et al.’s definition. Thus, the RT frequency
rate is (9/19 =) 47.4 percent. Regarding the placement of RTs, they find
the following.
a. In Chinese, nearly all RTs occurred at a transition relevance place
(TRP).
b. In English, RTs occurring at a TRP ranged from 30 percent to 66.7
percent differing from pair to pair.
c. In Japanese, RTs occurred at a TRP ranging from 12.1 percent to
50 percent.
d. The occurrences of RTs at grammatical (vis-à-vis intonational)
completion points were 88 percent in Chinese, 78 percent in
English, and 36.6 percent in Japanese.
It can be concluded that when supplying a RT, Chinese speakers are
inclined to wait for the end of a grammatical clause, English speakers are a
little less likely to do so, and Japanese speakers are least constrained by
grammatical completion (see line 7 in (1) and lines 11, 13, and 15 in (3)).
Clancy et al. consider that the very high frequency of backchannels
(68%) and the relatively low frequency of reactive expressions (17%) in
the Japanese data are due to their positioning. Unlike backchannels,
reactive expressions are lexical and thus contribute meaningful content.
Therefore, they require syntactic and semantic processing on the part of
the primary speaker, who is being engaged in formulating and producing
his/her utterance. If RTs are to be provided while the primary speaker’s
turn is in progress, non-lexical backchannels, which place the least
cognitive burden on the speaker, are deemed more appropriate.
Sending a backchannel is a more significant behavior of non-primary
speakership in Japanese than in English or Chinese. However, if all RTs
are taken into consideration, while Chinese speakers do so infrequently,
Japanese and English speakers supply them with equal frequency. This
contradicts Maynard’s (1990) study, in which backchannels occur twice as
frequently in Japanese conversations (871 times) as in American English
ones (428 times).7 Clancy et al. do not satisfactorily account for this
discrepancy. Nevertheless, they explain how the anecdotal claim that
Japanese use RTs much more frequently than do Americans comes about:
Americans place 78 percent of RTs at grammatical completion points
while Japanese speakers are much less likely to wait for a completion point
(36.6%). Regardless of relative frequency, unexpected placement of RTs

487
by Japanese interlocutors could lead Americans to feel that Japanese use
RTs much more than anticipated. Listen to the Talk Show video Part 2 and
judge for yourself.
Interpretation of the use of RTs differs from culture to culture. The use
of RTs is not a dominant feature of Chinese conversation as is made clear
by the strikingly low frequency of use in comparison with Japanese and
English. When Chinese speakers react, they wait until a grammatical
completion point, and their RTs are more likely lexical, i.e. reactive
expressions rather than backchannels. Furthermore, when a listener says
something, his/her intention is more likely to be to claim and gain the
floor. Chinese interactional style favors participants not infringing the
others’ turn(s): backchanneling without waiting for a grammatical
completion point is seen as presumptuous, intrusive, and impolite (Clancy
et al. 1996: 382).
Japanese turn-management strategy can be characterized as a highly
conventionalized, affect-laden interactional style. Non-primary speakers
are expected to show concern for the primary speaker’s sense of security in
holding the floor by providing RTs during the primary speaker’s turn.
Failing to supply RTs may be interpreted as being uncooperative and
lacking empathy (p. 381).
The Chinese and Japanese turn-management styles parallel the
competing politeness strategies discussed in Chapter 21. The Chinese style
can be said to focus on negative politeness (respecting the interlocutor’s
desire to be unimpeded by others), whereas the Japanese style appeals to
positive politeness (responding to the interlocutor’s wish to be desirable
and appreciated).
American turn-management style can be characterized as occupying a
position between Chinese and Japanese. The relative high frequency of
RTs suggests a strongly interactional style resembling Japanese. However,
Americans do not usually supply RTs until a point of grammatical
completion. If the listener does not wait, a RT might be interpreted as
being dismissive and rude (Yeah, yeah, I already know what you mean) (p.
381).
[Americans] tend to find Japanese RTs disruptive and even annoying,
but the Mandarin paucity of RTs somewhat unnerving, leaving them
wondering what the listener is thinking … American non-primary
speakers are more actively involved than their Mandarin counterparts,
but are nevertheless expected to refrain from infringing on the

488
 primary speaker’s on-going task of formulating propositions
(Clancy et al. 1996: 383).
25.4 The co-construction puzzle
To recapitulate, the Japanese people prefer a cooperative conversation
style. Mizutani (1984) contends that this tendency induces a high rate of
RTs, including co-construction. However, Ono and Yoshida (1996) argue
that, compared with English, co-constructions are rare in Japanese
conversations, and they report only 20 instances in their 100 minutes of
data. They attribute this rarity to a sociocultural norm: according to Ono
and Yoshida, the Japanese in general consider it impolite to finish another
person’s sentence or to provide additional information on behalf of the
primary speaker (p. 120). By contrast, adding information is a common
type of co-construction in English as shown in (4)
(4) D: I don’t have any time for basketball
G: because you’re working twelve hours
(Ono and Yoshida 1996: 121)
They believe the constraint on the territory of information (see Section
24.3) is operational in this regard: if a piece of information falls into the
primary speaker’s territory, non-primary speakers must refrain from
expressing it.
Countering Ono and Yoshida, Hayashi and Mori (1998) claim that co-
construction is not necessarily rare in Japanese; they report 65 occurrences
in their 360 minutes of data. Regarding the territory constraint, Hayashi
and Mori assert that Japanese interlocutors do infer others’ inner thoughts
and express them as co-constructions. They further contend that
conversation is a dynamic social phenomenon, and that the boundaries of
private territories of information are fluid: one’s territory can become
public and shared through interactive processes (p.90).
Suzuki and Usami (2006) compared in a more systematic way how the
frequencies of co-construction vary in Japanese and in English. They
analyzed 320 minutes of face-to-face, mostly dyadic, conversation data of
all-female participants. Four types of interlocutors were engaged in these
conversations: (i) Japanese non-acquaintances (30 conversations, 90
minutes), (ii) Japanese friends or family members (5 conversations, 130
minutes), (iii) English-speaking non-acquaintances (8 conversations, 24
minutes), and (iv) English-speaking friends or family members (3
conversations, 76 minutes). Suzuki and Usami calculated co-construction
frequencies by two methods: frequency per minute and frequency per

489
speaker-change. Co-construction occurrences are summarized below.
Co- Data
Data category Perminute
construction duration

(i) Japanese non- 62 times 90 minutes 0.69

acquaintances times8

(ii) Japanese 47 times 130 minutes 0.36 times

friends/family

(iii) English non- 6 times 24 minutes 0.25 times

acquaintances

(iv) English 12 times 76 minutes 0.16 times

friends/family

Contrary to Ono and Yoshida’s claim, Suzuki and Usami found that
Japanese speakers produced more co-constructions than did English
speakers. The percentages of co-construction with respect to the total
number of speaker changes are as follows:
Co- Speaker
Data category Percentage
construction changes

(i) Japanese non- 62 times 3,510 1.8

acquaintances

(ii) Japanese 47 times 3,474 1.4

friends/family

(iii) English non- 6 times 588 1.0

acquaintances

(iv) English 12 times 620 1.9

friends/family

Regardless of relative frequencies, co-construction does not often occur

in Japanese or English.
Suzuki and Usami then analyzed their data in terms of the territory of
information. They divided the co-constructions according to whether the

490
described event or state of affairs belonged to (a) the primary speaker’s
territory, (b) the second speaker’s territory, or (c) neutral or non-judged
territory. They excluded the friends/family data from this analysis because
it is often difficult to determine the territory to which a given piece of
information belongs, as friends and family members naturally share many
of the same experiences.
Primary Second
Data category Total Neither
sp sp

(i) Japanese non- 62 30 14 18

acquaintances

According to Suzuki and Usami, nearly half of the co-constructions are

concerned with information in the primary speaker’s territory, suggesting
that Japanese speakers do not refrain from talking about matters which are
in others’ information territories as Hayashi and Mori (1998) argue.
Suzuki and Usami’s data support Mizutani’s (1984) contention that co-
construction occurs more frequently in Japanese than in English. However,
Suzuki and Usami do not believe their results support Mizutani’s more
general claim, because the frequent use of co-construction does not
necessarily indicate a more collaborative and cooperative attitude on the
part of the non-primary speaker. They conclude that a linguistic form (i.e.
co-construction in this case) and the speaker’s actual intention do not
necessarily coincide. Speakers can convey their intentions through various
linguistic means, and not all occurrences of co-construction found in their
data can be judged as either collaborative or cooperative in nature (p. 271).
Their Japanese data show that co-construction occurred more frequently
when interlocutors were not acquainted than when they were. They explain
this by pointing out that non-acquaintances in their data always commence
conversations with self-introduction and an exchange of such information
as their names, occupations, and places of residence. In other words, most
of the initial utterances are about information belonging to the primary
speaker’s territory. By reducing the social and psychological distances
between them, speakers try to get to know each other. Extending this idea,
Suzuki and Usami hypothesize that co-construction is a means of
displaying positive politeness toward the interlocutor.
The fact that there is less amount of shared information between non-
acquaintances may even enhance the effect of such a display of
politeness. The second speaker can show that she and the first speaker

491
 share the same values and ways of thinking, or in other words “stand
on the same ground”, by displaying that she can predict and complete
the first speaker’s sentence even without access to the particular
information included in it
(p.273).
Summing up, all of these studies by Japanese researchers portray
somewhat different pictures of the phenomenon of co-construction among
Japanese speakers. All of their claims seem valid with respect to the
corresponding data sets, and it is understandable that very different results
may be generated by distinct sets of data and corresponding analysis. What
conclusion, then, can be drawn from their work? Is it possible to
generalize, let alone make a cross-linguistic comparison with English
regarding the general frequency of co-construction among Japanese
speakers? Perhaps not – Hayashi and Mori (1998) point out the need for
caution when making cross-linguistic comparisons of frequencies of
interactional phenomena because the bases for such comparisons are not
well established.
This is a profoundly difficult and intriguing issue. I have selected as data
for this chapter a talk show by Hakase SUIDOBASHI (Examples 1, 2, and 3)
because many of his videos are posted on YouTube, and in them speakers
can be heard making abundant use of RTs. YouTube allows viewers to
leave comments concerning videos, and some, apparently native speakers
of Japanese, have commented that Suidobashi’s aizuchi are too numerous
to the point of being annoying. These comments indicate that not all
Japanese people share the same linguistic norms surrounding the use of
aizuchi.
1 For a detailed discussion concerning the definition of turn constructional
unit, see Ford and Thompson (1996).
2 This video is available at the book’s website:
http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php.
3 M2 is coined after the initial M of Miyadai and Miyazaki.
4 Desune is the polite version of the interjection ne. In this case, desu is
not the predicate ‘be’. Thus, *fukkatsu shite itadaite desu (without ne) is
unacceptable.
5 Maynard’s data consist of same-sex conversations: ten each of Japanese
male pairs, Japanese female pairs, American male pairs, and American
female pairs. In each conversation, the initial two-minutes were discarded,
and the following three-minute segments were used as data.

492
6 This video is available at the book’s website:
http://hasegawa.berkeley.edu/Cambridge/introduction.php.
7 Maynard defines backchanneling as “occurrence of listener behavior
where an interlocutor, who assumes primarily a listener’s role, sends brief
messages and signs during the other interlocutor’s speaking turn” (p. 402).
Her examples include Clancy et al.’s backchannels and reactive
expressions.
8 This means that co-constructions occurred 69 times in 100 minutes of
data.

493
 26 Demonstratives
26.1 Introduction
DEMONSTRATIVES constitute a class of words whose primary function is
to locate a referent entity relative to the speaker and/or to the addressee.
Demonstratives can be used by themselves, e.g. I bought this (called
PRONOMINAL, behaving as a pronoun), or in combination with nouns, e.g.
I bought this laptop (called ADNOMINAL, ad = ‘to’ + nominal = ‘noun’).
Conventional Japanese grammars describe demonstratives in the
language as encoding a three-way distinction, referred to as the ko-
(PROXIMAL = near), so- (MEDIAL), and a- (DISTAL) series (see Table
26.1).
Table 26.1 Japanese demonstratives.
Proximal Medial Distal

Modern Japanese

Pronominal kore ‘this’ sore ‘that’ are ’that over

there’

Adnominal kono ‘this’ sono ‘that’ ano ‘that over

there’

Thing/Person koitsu ‘this soitsu ‘that aitsu ‘that one

(Vulgar) one’ one’ over there’

Place koko ‘here’ soko ‘there’ asoko ‘over

there’
ako (Kansai
dialect)

Direction kotchi ‘this sotchi ‘that atchi ‘that

way/side’ way/side’ way/side’

Direction/Person kochira sochira achira ‘that

(Polite) ‘this ‘that way/side, that
way/side, way/side, person over
this person’ that person’ there’

494
 Type/Kind konna ‘this sonna ‘that anna ‘that kind
kind of’ kind of’ of’

State/Manner kō ‘in this sō ‘in that ā ‘in that way’

way’ way’

Pre-Modern Japanese

Pronominal ko, kore so, sore ka, kare, a, are

‘this’ ‘that’ ‘that over
there’

Adnominal kono ‘this’ sono ‘that’ kano, ano ‘that

over there’

Place ko, koko so, soko ka, kashiko, a,

‘here’ ‘there’ ashiko, asoko
‘over there’

Direction ko, konata, so, sonata, ka, kanata, a,

kochi ‘this sochi ‘that anata, achi
way/side’ way/side’ ‘that way/side’

Pre-Modern Japanese had an additional ka- (distal) series. As described

by Aston (1904), at the turn of the century (c. 1900) ka- was used in
written language, and a- in spoken discourse. Prior to his time, Aston
contends, the difference consisted of “kare being applied to the less
remote, and are to the more remote, of persons or objects not conceived of
as immediately present before the speaker or the person addressed. Kare
would therefore correspond to the Latin iste, and are to ille” (pp. 59–60).
Haruma wage (a Dutch–Japanese dictionary compiled in the eighteenth
century) included kare as a translation of the masculine third-person
singular pronoun, whereas its feminine counterpart was translated with a
compound word consisting of kare 彼 and onna 女 ‘woman’ (Yanabu
1982: 197).1 彼女 was pronounced as kano onna ‘that woman’ until the
late nineteenth century when it changed to the present-day pronunciation,
kanojo ‘she’.
When both speaker and addressee are physically facing in the same
direction, the ko-series is selected for entities located close to them; the so-

495
series for those at some distance from them; and the a-series for those even
farther away. For example, when directing a taxi driver to a destination,
one would say (1a) if the taxi is already right at the corner, (1b) when the
taxi has not yet reached the corner, and (1c) if the corner in question is still
at a considerable distance. This characterization of the ko-so-a
demonstratives is called the DISTANCE MODEL.
(1) a.
Kono kado o magatte kudasai.

this corner ACC turning please.do

‘Please turn at this corner.’

b.
Sono kado o magatte kudasai.

that

‘Please turn at that corner further down the block.’

c.
Ano kado o magatte kudasai.

that

‘Please turn at that corner much further down there.’

Contrastively, when the speaker and the addressee are facing each other,
the ko-series is used to refer to entities near the speaker; the so-series to
entities near the addressee; and the a-series to those at a distance from
both. This characterization is called the TERRITORY MODEL. As the term
territory suggests, the notion of control is also relevant here. Suppose that
a mother is washing her son’s back.
(2) S:
Okāsan, itai yo.

mother painful SFP

‘Mom, that hurts!’

M:

Doko ga?

496
 where NOM

‘Where?’
S:

#Koko/Soko/#Asoko da yo.

here/there/there COP.NPST SFP

‘There/#Here.’

In this case, the location referred to by the demonstrative in the son’s

utterance is a part of his body. Therefore, he is at least as close to the
location as is the addressee, and yet only so- is appropriate because the son
does not have control over his mother’s scrubbing – that is, his back is
perceived to be within her territory. Interestingly, English and Japanese
demonstratives behave identically in this regard.
The utility of the Distance and Territory Models according to the
alignment and orientation of the speaker and the addressee has been
widely recognized. However, these models have been challenged by
Mikami (1970/1992), who claims that ko-so-a do not form a triplet, but,
rather, a DOUBLE BINARY: i.e. ko- vs. so- on the one hand, and ko- vs. a-
on the other. He explains that the fundamental opposition in
communicative, face-to-face situations consists of the speaker and the
addressee, who divide the metaphorically conceived space into two sub-
spaces. This opposition is represented by ko- (the speaker’s territory) and
so- (the addressee’s territory). This much is identical with the Territory
Model. What differs is the total absence in this part of Mikami’s
framework of the concept of a-. On the other hand, when the speaker and
the addressee face in the same direction, whether physically or
metaphorically, they perceive themselves together in opposition to others.
In this conceptualization, the joint territory of the speaker and addressee is
expressed by ko-, and that of the others by a-. Therefore, in Mikami’s
theory, ko- and so- oppose each other as do ko- and a-, but there is no
opposition between so- and a-. He claims further that the oppositions
between ko- and so- and between ko- and a- differ in nature, and thus these
three demonstratives never oppose each other in the same interactional
context.
Mikami’s argument is supported by evidence from lexicalization (word)

497
patterns and fixed phrases. That is, there are phrases combining a- and ko-
as well as so- and ko-, but never so- and a-.
(3)
a- are-kore ‘this and that’, areka-koreka ‘this or that’, achira-
+ kochira ‘here and there’, atchi-kotchi ‘here and there’
ko-

so- soko-koko ‘here and there’, sonna-konna de ‘because of this

+ and that’, sore to kore to wa hanashi ga chigau ‘this and that
ko- are different stories’, sō-kō suru uchi ni ‘while doing this and
that’

a- none
+
so-

The total lack of combinations of a- and so- is striking, lending credence

to Mikami’s double-binary theory. Nevertheless, I continue to believe that
in the situation directing a taxi driver, the opposition between a- and so- is
psychologically real. For example, the driver might respond by asking
while pointing, Soko desu ka, asoko desu ka? ‘Do you mean there, or over
there?’ In such a case, the selection is systematic: the closer one is
invariably referred to with so-, and the farther one with a-. The Distance
Model thus seems justifiable. Why, then, is there the lack of lexical
patterns with so- and a-? It remains a mystery.
26.2 Deixis and anaphora
When a demonstrative is used to point to an entity present in the speech
situation, it is called a DEICTIC, and this pointing characteristic or function
is called DEIXIS. Typically, a deictic expression is used to refer to
something visible or audible during the utterance, as exemplified in (1).
Deixis can also be temporal (e.g. now, then) or personal (e.g. I, you).
Unlike “normal” words (e.g. cat, pen, sun), the meaning of a deictic
expression is relative to the speech situation. For example, I designates
you, the reader, when you are speaking, whereas it designates Joan when
Joan is speaking.
The location of the speaker in time and space normally establishes the
DEICTIC CENTER (or ORIGO) and thereby governs the interpretation of
deictics. Consider, for example, the deictic verbs come and go. The typical
interpretation of an utterance like Joan came to the park is that the speaker

498
was present at the park or the park in the speaker’s territory. By contrast,
Joan went to the park normally implies that the speaker was not present at
the park. Rather, the speaker was at some other place (i.e. deictic center)
from which the event of going to the park is described.
Another typical use of demonstratives is called ANAPHORA, commonly
defined as the relationship between two linguistic expressions co-occurring
and co-referencing within a single discourse. For example, in (4), she
refers backward to the manager, and these two expressions co-reference
the person identified as the manager.
(4) I walked right in and talked with the manager. She virtually hired me
on the spot.
The phenomenon of anaphora consists of two entities, e.g. the manager
and she in (4). The semantically and referentially autonomous expression
(the manager) is called the ANTECEDENT, whereas the dependent
expression (she) is called the ANAPHOR. Anaphora is characteristically
interpretable solely on the basis of the linguistic context, without recourse
to the knowledge of the speech situation (e.g. who the speaker is, when
and where the utterance is made). When the autonomous expression
follows the dependent one – e.g. Near her, Joan found a snake – the co-
reference relationship is called CATAPHORA.
26.3 Anaphoric use of Japanese demonstratives
Kuno (1973: 282–90) makes the generalization that ko- is used only
deictically, but that so- and a- can be used either deictically or
anaphorically. For deixis, Kuno subscribes to the Territory Model. That is,
ko- covers the speaker’s territory, so- covers the addressee’s territory, and
a- covers that which lies outside either territory. For anaphora, he
considers that so- is selected either (i) when the speaker does not know the
referent well (i.e. the speaker has only indirect knowledge), or (ii) when
the speaker does know the referent well (i.e. s/he has direct knowledge),
but s/he nevertheless assumes that the addressee does not: the situation in
(5a). By contrast, a- is selected when the speaker believes that both s/he
and the addressee know the referent well or have a shared experience with
the referent: the situation in (5b).
(5) a.
Kinō Yamada to iu hito ni aimashita

yesterday as.named person DAT met

499
 michi ni mayotte komatte ita node, tasukete

way DAT lost was.in.trouble because helping

‘Yesterday, I met a man named Yamada. He [that person] had lost his way and w
difficulty, so I helped him.’
b.
Kinō Yamada-san ni aimashita. Ano (#Sono) hito itsumo genki

always healthy

‘Yesterday, I met Mr. Yamada. He [that person] is always in great spirits.’

The phrase to iu hito ‘a person named’ in (5a) signals that the speaker
believes that the addressee does not know Yamada. In such a case, the use
of sono is appropriate, but ano is not. In (5b), on the other hand, the
absence of to iu hito indicates that the speaker assumes that the addressee
has direct knowledge of Yamada. In this case, ano is appropriate, but sono
is anomalous.
Kuroda (1979/1992) examined the use of Japanese demonstratives in
soliloquial utterances and found cases that counter-exemplify Kuno’s
generalizations. He questions (i) whether the deictic and anaphoric uses
are fundamentally distinct, and (ii) whether language use should always be
accounted for in terms of communication, in which the presence of an
addressee is always presumed. Those who subscribe to a communicative
explanation, Kuroda cautions, need be aware that some characteristics of
language use are likely derived from the communicative setting itself,
rather than from the properties of the expressions under consideration.
In order to examine demonstratives in soliloquy, Kuroda eliminates the
addressee from Kuno’s characterization. Then, when used anaphorically,
a- should be acceptable when the speaker knows the referent well, as in
(6a), and so- when s/he does not, as in (6b).
(6) a.
Kyō Yamada-san ni atta kedo, ano

today DAT met but that

wa ittai nannen buri no koto darō.

500
 TOP what.on.earth how.many.years GEN event I.wonder

‘I ran into Yamada-san today. I wonder how many years it’s been since the last t
person].’
b.
Yamada-san wa Tanaka-sensei toka iu hito

TOP called person

hanashite ita keredo, sono hito wa sonnani

was.talking but that person TOP that.much

nano darō ka.

COP I.wonder

‘Yamada-san was talking about a professor called Tanaka, but I wonder if she [t
so great.’

Regarding deictic usage, the elimination of the addressee from Kuno’s

description (i.e. the Territory Model) predicts that ko- should be used for a
nearby entity, and a- for a distant entity, with so- being unusable. Kuroda,
however, claims that so- can be used deictically in soliloquy, imagining a
scenario in which someone has been informed that he has a stomach ulcer.
He considers this and says (7a). On the other hand, one morning he may
feel an unusual sensation in his stomach and say (7b).
(7) a.
Sore wa donna iro o shite iru no darō ka.

that TOP what color ACC is NMLZ I.wonder

‘I wonder what color it [that] is.’

b.
Ittai kore wa itsu made tsuzuku no dar

what.on.earth this TOP when until continue NMLZ I.wonder

‘I wonder how long this will last.’

501
 Kuroda declares that deictic and anaphoric usages of so- and a- are both
determined by the speaker’s familiarity with the referent. He then re-labels
Kuno’s direct knowledge as EXPERIENTIAL KNOWLEDGE, and Kuno’s
indirect knowledge as CONCEPTUAL KNOWLEDGE. If one knows an
entity experientially, s/he is able to describe it theoretically in an infinite
number of ways. For example, I can describe my mother in terms of her
age, appearance, health, interests, skills, etc. By contrast, information
about an entity obtained by some indirect means, e.g. via hearsay or
inference, is inevitably conceptual, or linguistic; i.e. it is information
conveyed by some communicative means. For example, if someone says to
me My high school friend Alice called me yesterday, I learn that a person
named Alice, probably a female, who attended the same high school as the
speaker, telephoned the speaker the day before the utterance. However, I
learn nothing more.
Kuroda argues that a- is used if one’s knowledge about the referent is
experiential, whereas so- is used when it is conceptual. To support this
analysis, he provides examples including the phrase X no koto da kara
‘considering the nature of X’, which implies that the speaker knows X in
an experiential sense. In this situation, the referent can therefore naturally
co-occur with a-, but it would be anomalous when occurring with so- as
happens in (8b).
(8) a.
Yamada- o matte iru Ano/Sono hito wa kitto
san no desu.

ACC am.waiting that person TOP surely

okurete kuru deshō.

late come will

‘I’m waiting for Yamada. I’m sure he [that person] will be late.’
b.
Yamada-san o matte iru no desu. Ano/#Sono hito no koto da kara,

considering.one’s.nature

kitto okurete kuru deshō.

surely late come will

502
 ‘I’m waiting for Yamada. Considering his habits, I’m sure he [that
person] will be late.’

Kuroda then presents the following counter-example to Kuno’s analysis.

(9)
Boku wa Ōsaka de Yamada to iu sensei ni
Taro

I TOP in called teacher DAT

kedo, kimi mo ano sensei ni tsuku to

but you too that teacher DAT study.under if

‘I studied in Osaka with a professor named Taro Yamada. You should study with h
professor], too.’

Like (5a), the use of to iu sensei ‘professor named’ in (9) signals that the
speaker assumes the addressee’s lack of knowledge of the professor;
therefore, according to Kuno, sono, but not ano, must be used. However,
in (9), it is perfectly natural to use ano as it conveys the fact that the
speaker knows Professor Yamada very well.
26.4 Ko-so-a in soliloquy
Kuroda’s (1979/1992) use of soliloquy is insightful, but his data are based
solely on introspection and so the conclusions lack strong empirical
confirmation. I engaged in a study to follow up on his claims, examining
my own, experimentally obtained soliloquy data: 428 ko-words, 151 so-
words, and 237 a-words (Hasegawa 2010).2
26.4.1 Ko-
Of 428 ko-words in the soliloquy data, all but two were clearly deictic.
(10) [Looking at the desk chair in the office]
A, kono isu chō-raku sō.

oh this chair super-comfortable look.like

‘Oh, this chair looks super-comfortable.’

503
 The two problematic ko- cases are exemplified in (11).
(11)
Mā, ārudeko no ii no ga attara, hoshii kedo,

well Art.Deco GEN good one NOM if.exist want but

kore wa kinagani yarō.

this TOP without-haste will-do

‘Well, if there’s a good one in the Art Deco style, I want it, but I think I’ll
spend more time on this [shopping].’

Kuno (1973: 288) contends that when ko- appears to be anaphoric, it is

actually “indicating something as if it were visible to both the speaker and
the hearer at the time of the conversation, and thus it imparts vividness to
the conversation.” The speaker of (11) had been shopping for an ottoman
(footstool) and was browsing a catalog while recording her speech. Kore in
this utterance refers to the abstract concept of shopping, which is not
visibly present in the speech situation. Therefore, it is not an obvious case
of deixis. Nevertheless, kore refers to “the activity I’m engaged in now,”
namely furniture shopping. Because the deictic concept now is involved, it
is appropriately categorized as deixis.3
26.4.2 So-
Regarding the so-series, all 151 instances in my experiment are clearly
anaphoric. Although Kuroda’s stomach ulcer episode in (7a) illustrates that
deictic so- is logically possible, such usage seems to be extremely rare.
The total absence of deictic so- suggests that the Distance Model
(proximal ko-, medial so-, distal a-) does not operate in soliloquy. All of
the soliloquy recorded in my experiment took place in a small room, and
several participants mentioned the scroll hanging on the wall a few feet
from where they were seated. Some used ko- to refer to it, while others
used a- as in (12).
(12)
Ano kakejiku wa dare ga kaita no kanā.

that scroll TOP who NOM wrote NMLZ SFP

‘I wonder who drew that scroll.’

504
 My data support the Territory Model: so- refers to an addressee’s
territory, but, because no addressee is involved in soliloquy, so- is
irrelevant. The data also support Mikami’s (1970/1992) Double-Binary
Model; i.e. only a two-way opposition exists in deixis, in this case ko- vs.
a-. What is puzzling is why the Distance Model is operative when an
addressee is present.
The anaphoric use of so- in soliloquy will be considered next. Absent an
addressee, it is assumed that a speaker of soliloquy uses so- when s/he
does not know the referent well, and a- when s/he does. Alternatively, in
terms of Kuroda’s characterization, so- is used when the speaker knows of
the referent merely conceptually, and a- when s/he knows the referent
experientially. In some cases, the use of anaphoric so- appears to support
Kuno’s and Kuroda’s analyses, e.g. (13), but the majority of uses do not,
the case in (14).
(13)
Sankanbi ja bunkasai ja nakute, namae wasureta
nakute, ā,

observation- is.not open.house is.not name forgot

day

oyako nantoka. Ē, nande sonna kotoba wasurerun

parent.child something why that word forget

6-nenkan mainen atta noni.

6-years every.year existed though

‘Not a [parents’] observation day, not an open house, oh, I forgot what we called
it [a school event]. Hmm, parent–child, parent–child something. How could I
forget such [that kind of] a word? We had one every year for 6 years …’
(14)
Sō pasokon ga kowarechatta kara,
da,

well personal.computer NOM has.broken.down because

mo, moshi dekitara, shitai shi.

505
 also if possible want.to.do

‘Oh yeah, my computer has broken down, so, if at all possible, I want to repair it
[that] too.’

In (13), it can easily be inferred that the speaker does not know the
referent well. However, in (14) the speaker has a very clear idea of the
referent of so-, the speaker’s own computer. This example demonstrates
that, contrary to Kuno and to Kuroda, so- can be used to refer to a familiar
entity.
26.4.3 A-
The a-series occurred 237 times in the data, and, as shown in (15), it often
accompanies an antecedent (underlined). It can therefore be considered
anaphoric.
(15) [Wondering which car her in-laws would buy]
Okāsan rekusasu ki ni yō datta kedo, demo are wa
itteru

mother Lexus like it.seemed but but that TOP

okkii kuruma da shi nē.

big car COP and SFP

‘Mother seems to like the Lexus, but it’s a big car.’

However, a- also occurs frequently without any antecedent:

(16) a.
Ā, kyō mo hare. Ashita mo hare hen kana.

today also fine tomorrow also fine not SFP

haretara, ano sandaru hako.

if.fine that sandals will.wear

‘Well, it’s beautiful today too. Tomorrow too, I hope, and if it is, I’ll wear
those sandals.’

506
 b. [Looking at the cooking section of a magazine]
Kore, are da. Zenmai da.

this that COP flowering.fern COP

‘This is it [that]. A flowering fern.’

Although the referents are not visibly present in the speech situation in
(16), both ano and are seem to be deictic. While the speakers were
soliloquizing, certain entities apparently emerged in their consciousness,
and they referred to them deictically with a-. It is not likely that these
entities were linguistic (i.e. actual words or phrases); more likely, they
were mental imagery, i.e. a quasi-perceptual experience. The speakers
were referring respectively to their minds’ images of sandals and a
flowering fern. To elaborate, (16b) is equivalent to an “X is Y” type
equation, wherein “X” refers to a photo in a magazine which is identified
by the visually deictic kore, and “Y” non-visually by the deictic are. That
is, upon seeing the photo, the speaker remembered the name of the entity,
zenmai ‘flowering fern’, and named it.
A question arises as to whether (15) and (16) are so clearly separable
into anaphoric (15) and deictic (16) usages. Considering the speakers’
minds, both examples seem to function in the same way, regardless of
whether the entities having been introduced linguistically prior to the use
of a-. Because sorting the occurrences of a- in soliloquy into deictic and
anaphoric categories according to the mere presence or absence of an
antecedent is cognitively arbitrary, I analyze both of them
straightforwardly as deictic. I also conjecture that even in conversation, a-
is always deictic, pointing to a speaker’s mental construct.
Like Kuroda, I contend that the variant effects of so- and a-, as in (5),
repeated here as (17), can only be accounted for in terms of the act of
communication.
(17) a.
Kinō Yamada to iu hito ni aimashita. Sono
(#Ano)

yesterday as.named person DAT met that

michi ni mayotte komatte ita node, tasukete agemashita

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 way DAT lost was.in.trouble because helping gave

‘Yesterday, I met a man named Yamada. He [that person] had lost his way and
was having difficulty, so I helped him.’
b.
Kinō Yamada-san ni aimashita. Ano (#Sono) itsumo genki
hito

always healthy

‘Yesterday, I met Mr. Yamada. He [that person] is always in great spirits.’

In this regard, Kinsui and Takubo (1992) consider that the anomaly of
ano in (17a) is attributable not to the speaker’s assumption of the
addressee’s lack of knowledge of Yamada, but, rather, to its asocial
nature. Kinsui and Takubo contend (though I disagree with this part) that
the ano in (17a) is anaphoric, indicating à la Kuroda that the speaker’s
knowledge of the referent is experiential. If the addressee is unlikely to
know the referent, they continue, to suggest one’s knowledge as
experiential is not only useless, but also alienating.
This line of reasoning can be adapted to suggest that ano in (17a) is
deictically pointing to a mental construct. However, unless the addressee
has the same construct in mind, its use is ill-suited to the communicative
situation. Bringing the same entity into the addressee’s consciousness can
be accomplished by a prior mention (an antecedent in anaphora), pointing
to its presence in the speech situation (deixis), or by some other means.
However, I contend that the selection of a- is not directly controlled by
such means.
26.4.4 Chafe’s model of consciousness
Recall that in Kuno’s view, ko- is always deictic even when the referent is
invisible. If indeed both ko- and a- are invariably deictic, then what is the
difference between the two? Chafe’s (1994) model of consciousness is
helpful in accounting for this difference. Chafe defines consciousness as
“an active focusing on a small part of the conscious being’s self-centered
model of the surrounding world” (p.28). While one is able to arouse such
grand experiential totalities as one’s father or one’s years as an
undergraduate student, no one can be conscious of their entire internal
composition all at once. That is, one can focus one’s attention on only a
particular image or action of one’s father, or on a particular person, place,

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or event within one’s undergraduate days (p.28). Most of consciousness
consists of the flow of experiences, perceptions, and actions, concomitant
with co-occurring emotions, opinions, attitudes, desires, and decisions
(p.31).
Chafe perceives consciousness to be like vision, constantly in motion,
that people are able to focus their conscious attention on only a very
limited amount of information at one time. Like foveal (i.e. sharp, central)
vision, there is focal consciousness, and like peripheral vision, there is
peripheral consciousness, providing a context for that which is focused
upon – i.e. what draws our attention. A vast amount of information lies
beyond peripheral consciousness, which is unattended to at any given
moment. Information in the focal, peripheral, or unconscious state is
referred to respectively as active, semiactive, or inactive (p.53).4
Now recall Kuroda’s (1979/1992) contention that a- is used if one’s
knowledge of the referent is experiential, whereas so- is used when it is
conceptual, i.e. obtained via some means of communication. Having
analyzed my soliloquy data, it appears to me that how information was
obtained about a subject is immaterial. I have constructed example (18) to
illustrate this point.
(18)
Ano/#Kono hito dare nan darō, kinō Okada-
san

that/this person who COP I.wonder yesterday

hanashiteta hito.

was.talking.about person

‘Who is that person? The one that Okada was talking about yesterday?’

In (18), the speaker wonders about the identity of the person that Okada
had mentioned the day before. Here, the speaker does not personally know
the referent, with his/her knowledge being obtained only linguistically (i.e.
conceptually in terms of words or phrases) from Okada. Therefore,
according to Kuroda, a- should be impossible. Nevertheless, the use of a-
in (18) sounds quite plausible. I hypothesize that a- can be used deictically
to refer to an entity if it is in one’s peripheral consciousness and thus in a
semiactive state. Exactly what mental construct ano deictically points to in

509
this case is unclear. If I place myself in this situation, the mental imagery
of the conversation with Okada is likely to come to my mind, but not the
image of the person in question. Because the speaker of (18) does not
know the person, that person him/herself cannot be totally activated in
consciousness, and is therefore referred to by ano, suggesting that, in
relation to the speaker, this unknown person exists “at some distance”
metaphorically speaking.
Furthermore, the use of ko- in (18) would sound unnatural. I therefore
hypothesize that ko- is used to refer deictically to an entity only if the
speaker has focused his/her attention on that entity, and thus is in an active
state at the moment of speech. Example (19) is another constructed
utterance. Here, both kore and are can be used. Intuitively, the task that the
speaker remembers is more clearly recognized when kore, rather than are,
is selected.
(19)
Ashita nani shinakucha dakke. A, sō gijiroku
ikenain da,

tomorrow what I.have.to.do I.wonder oh I.see minutes

Kore/Are mo jikan kakaru nā.

this/that also time take SFP

‘What do I have to do tomorrow? Oh, yeah, the minutes. It’ll take time.’

The hypothesis that a- is used to refer to an entity in a semiactive state

provides a clue to understanding the bewildering functions of a-. Although
a- can be used to refer to something located in the distance, it is also
frequently used for an entity with which the speaker is familiar, based on
experiential knowledge, as argued by Kuno (1973) and Kuroda
(1979/1992). Anecdotally, it is said that with the maturation of marriage, a
couple tends to employ more a- as in example (20).
(20)
Are motte kite.

bring.please

‘Bring it [that] to me, please.’

510
 A husband would say (20) to his wife, are being understood to refer to a
newspaper if reading a newspaper is part of the husband’s routine at the
breakfast table. Likewise, a wife might say the same to her husband at the
dinner table, and the husband immediately understands what she wants.
The association of familiarity/experiential knowledge with ko-
(proximal) is intuitive, because familiar things are metaphorically close to
one’s self. By contrast, the construal of familiarity with distal a- is
perplexing. We may be able to better understand the connection between
a- and familiarity if we consider the referent of a- to be distal in the sense
that it is in peripheral consciousness, but, at the same time, familiar
because it is included in one’s model of the surrounding world – i.e. in
one’s permanent memory – and therefore can be focused upon at will.5
1 In his 1890 novel, Maihime (The Dancing Girl), MORI Ogai (1862–
1922) employed kare to refer to a female protagonist.
2 The soliloquy data examined here were collected from 24 native
speakers of Japanese. Each was asked to speak aloud his or her thoughts
for 10–15 minutes while alone in an isolated room. They were instructed
not to speak to an imaginary person or object, but, rather, to verbalize
forthrightly whatever came into consciousness.
3 In written Japanese, there is a rhetorical construction in which ko- is
used anaphorically: e.g. Shisō oyobi ryōshin no jiyū wa, kore o okashi-te
wa naranai ‘Freedom of thought and conscience shall not be violated’ (the
Constitution of Japan, Article 19; see Section 24.1.1). In this construction,
the antecedent is typically designated by the topic marker wa (see Section
8.1), and repeating the entity with anaphoric kore generates an emphatic
tone. This style was borrowed from Chinese in ancient times.
4 Active and inactive information can be considered to correspond to
short-term and long-term memory respectively (Atkinson and Shiffrin
1968), but Chafe (1994: 53) prefers not to use these terms because of the
implication that memory is a place. He argues that relevant phenomena
can be better captured in terms of activation, not by considering something
to be in memory or to be retrieved from memory.
5 For further discussion of this topic, see Hasegawa (2012).

511
 27 Represented speech
27.1 Introduction
When communicating, we frequently quote what other people have said.
Such utterances are commonly characterized in terms of a dichotomy
between DIRECT and INDIRECT SPEECH. It is frequently said that in
direct speech, original expressions are faithfully reproduced in both form
and content, whereas in indirect speech, reporters only commit themselves
to the accurate rendering of the content. Nevertheless, in reality, one can
rarely remember the exact wording of even one’s own utterances, let alone
those of others, unless there is some special quality that renders the form
of the utterance memorable. Direct speech is normally spontaneous, with
perhaps some rhetorical effects in mind, created by the reporter at speech
time rather than a verbatim rendition of the original speech (Tannen 1989).
In English, the complementizer that is used in indirect speech, but not in
direct speech as exemplified in (1). On the other hand, in written language,
a comma and quotation marks are normally obligatory for direct speech,
but prohibited for indirect speech.
(1) a. She said, “A little simplification would be the first step toward
rational living.”
b.She said that a little simplification would be the first step toward
rational living.
Furthermore, the tense and personal pronouns used in the original
utterance must be adjusted in indirect speech as in (2b).
(2) a. Midori said, “I’m invited to the ceremony.”
b. Midori said that she was/had been invited to the ceremony.
Speech acts (Chapter 19) are often indicated separately from the content
of the quotation by such speech act verbs as apologize, ask, complain,
congratulate, demand, insult, permit, prohibit, promise, request, suggest,
warn, etc. as in (3b) and (4b).
(3) a. Midori said, “Who else is invited?”
b. Midori asked who else was invited.
(4) a. Midori said, “Don’t use a cell phone in the room!”
b. Midori demanded no one use a cell phone in the room.
Direct speech permits expressive elements that do not carry significant
informational content, as in (5a), but such elements are prohibited in

512
indirect speech, as in (5b).
(5) a. Midori said, “Wow/Hello/Ouch.”
b. *Midori said that wow/hello/ouch.
Moreover, direct-quotation clauses can be grammatically incomplete as
in (6a), but indirect-quotation clauses must be complete as in (6b).
(6) a. Midori said, “I want to go, but …”
b. *Midori said that she wanted to go but …
In Japanese, direct speech and indirect speech are not formally
distinguishable. In both, the quotative particle to (or its colloquial variant -
tte) marks a quoted clause (see Section 15.3), and quotation marks are not
consistently employed.1 As demonstrated in (7b), Japanese does not
require tense agreement between the main and the quoted clause; the tense
of the original utterance is retained. Occurrences of polite expressions, e.g.
masu in (7a), in quoted speech will be discussed shortly.
(7) a.
Midori wa “Biru wa manekarete to itta.
imasen”

TOP TOP is.not.invited.POL QUOT said

‘Midori said, “Bill is not invited.”’

b.
Midori wa Biru wa manekarete inai to itta. [indirect]

TOP TOP is.not.invited QUOT said

‘Midori said that Bill was [Lit. is] not invited.’

27.2 Deixis in represented speech

In Section 26.2, we discussed the concept of deixis as expressed in
this/that, here/there, now/then, I/you, and come/go. The spatiotemporal
location of the speaker when the utterance is made routinely establishes
the deictic center, which governs the interpretation of deictic expressions.
In direct speech, there are two deictic centers and two types of addressee:
one for the original speech situation, and the other for the reporting
situation. By contrast, in indirect speech, the deictic center is limited to the
reporting situation (see Figure 27.1). Therefore, the presence or absence of
two deictic centers and two types of addressee dictates the distinction

513
between direct vs. indirect speech (Coulmas 1985).

Figure 27.1. Two speech situations.

In (7) above, the original speech is quoted in two ways: with the polite
form masu in direct speech, and with the plain form in indirect speech.
Politeness in the original utterance indicates an attitude of the original
speaker (Sorig) towards the original addressee (Aorig). It is, therefore,
irrelevant in the case of indirect speech, which can communicate only the
content, not the attitude, of the original utterance. Any politeness
expressions in indirect speech encode the attitude of the reporter (Srep)
towards his/her addressee (Arep). If Srep wishes to convey Sorig’s polite
attitude, s/he needs to describe it, for example, with teinei ni itta ‘said
politely’.
Other types of expressions tied to the original speech situation which
must be adjusted in indirect speech include (i) demonstratives, (ii) SFPs
(except the interrogative ka), and (iii) first- and second-person pronouns.
The following pairs of direct and indirect speech demonstrate these types
of adjustments.
(8) a.
Shigeru wa “Kono sakana wa oishii ne” to

TOP this fish TOP delicious SFP QUOT

‘Shigeru said, “This fish is delicious, isn’t it?”’

b.
Shigeru wa sono sakana wa oishii to itta.

TOP that fish TOP delicious QUOT said

‘Shigeru said that the fish was [Lit. is] delicious.’

(9) a.
Shigeru wa “Kono sakana wa oishii desu ka”

514
 TOP this fish TOP delicious COP.POL INT

‘Shigeru said, “Is this fish delicious?”’

b.
Shigeru wa sono sakana wa oishii ka to

TOP that fish TOP delicious INT QUOT

‘Shigeru asked whether the fish was [Lit. is] delicious.’

As in English, kono ‘this’ in Sorig’s utterance needs to shift to sono

‘that’ or some other expression in indirect speech. The SFP ne in (8a) that
is used by Sorig to solicit Aorig’s agreement plays no role in the reporting
utterance, and therefore does not appear in (8b). However, the SFP ka in
(9) concerns the Sorig’s mental state, i.e. one involving uncertainty, and
has nothing to do with Aorig, so it must be retained in an indirect quote as
in (9b).
First- and second-person pronouns are clearly bound to the original
speech situation; therefore, they too must be adjusted in indirect speech.
(10) a.
Midori wa watashi ni “Anata wa omoiyari ga
nai”

TOP I to you TOP inconsiderate

‘Midori told me, “You’re inconsiderate.”’

b.
Midori wa (watashi ni) watashi wa omoiyari ga
nai

TOP (I to) I TOP inconsiderate

‘Midori said that I’m inconsiderate.’

(11) a.
Midori wa “Watashi wa shiranai” to itta.

TOP I TOP not.know QUOT said

515
 ‘Midori said, “I don’t know it.”’
b.
Midori wa jibun/kanojo wa shiranai to itta.

TOP self/she TOP not.know QUOT said

‘Midori said that self/she did not know it.’

In (10), Srep is Aorig, so anata ‘you’ designates Srep; therefore, in (10b),

anata must be changed to watashi ‘I’. If (11a) is uttered rather than written
– i.e. the quotation marks are invisible to aid interpretation – it is
ambiguous between direct- and indirect-speech interpretations, i.e. watashi
may refer to Midori or Srep. If, on the other hand, the polite form
shirimasen ‘do not know’ is used instead of the plain shiranai, the
utterance would normally be interpreted as direct speech, and, therefore,
watashi would refer to Midori. In (11b), while the use of kanojo ‘she’ is
possible, as is the case of English, the REFLEXIVE PRONOUN, jibun ‘self’,
is more commonly selected when the pronoun refers to the speaker. This
use of jibun in indirect speech is called LOGOPHORIC: the logophoric
expression designates the person whose utterance or thought is being
represented. While kanojo in (11b) can refer to a female person other than
Midori, jibun is not ambiguous, uniquely pointing to Midori.2
27.3 Omission of verbs of saying/thinking
The quoting particle to is so strongly tied to a verb of saying or thinking
that it can stand by itself and imply the presence of such a verb.
(12) a.
Midori wa bakabakashii to tachiagatta.

TOP ridiculous QUOT stood.up

‘Midori stood up, (saying) “(that’s) ridiculous.”’

b.
Midori wa shinjirarenai to watashi o mitsumeta

TOP cannot.believe QUOT I ACC gazed

‘Midori gazed at me, (thinking that what I had just said) was
unbelievable.’

516
 c. Midori wa “kaette kudasai” to doa o shimeta

TOP go.home please QUOT door ACC closed

‘Midori said “Please go home” and shut the door.’

Obviously, tachiagaru ‘stand up’, mitsumeru ‘gaze’, and shimeru ‘close’

do not take a quoted clause; therefore, hearers read in a verb of saying or
thinking to complete the utterances semantically.
27.4 Blended speech
In English, interrogative and imperative constructions cannot appear in
indirect speech.
(13) a. *Joan said that could she take a day off on Monday?
b. *Joan said that shred this report!
By contrast, Japanese permits the following types of quotation.
(14) a.
Midori wa jibun o shiranai no ka to

TOP self ACC not.know NMLZ INT QUOT

‘[Lit.] Midori said that don’t you know me.’

‘Midori asked if (I) didn’t know her.’

b.
Midori wa jibun ni denwa shite kure to

TOP self to telephone do give.IMP QUOT

‘[Lit.] Midori said that telephone me.’

‘Midori told me to call her.’

The use of jibun, rather than watashi, to refer to Midori herself in (14)
indicates that the quoted clauses are in indirect speech because Midori is
unlikely to use jibun to refer to herself in actual speech. Nevertheless, the
underlined part is interrogative in (14a) and imperative in (14b). Kuno
(1988) calls such quotations BLENDED SPEECH, a mixture of indirect and
QUASI-DIRECT SPEECH. In (15), because the second parts of the

517
sentences are not verbatim quoted speech, they are considered quasi-direct.
(15) a.
Midori wa jibun o shiranai no ka to itta.

INDIRECT QUASI-DIRECT

b.
Midori wa jibun ni denwa shite kure to itta.

INDIRECT QUASI-DIRECT

The reported speech in (15) is considered quasi-direct because it may

differ from the actual utterances. For instance, Midori’s utterances are
more likely to be something like (16).
(16) a.
Watashi o shiranai no desu ka.

I ACC know.not NMLZ COP.POL INT

b.
Watashi ni denwa shite kudasai.

to telephone do give.POL.IMP

However, in blended speech, polite expressions (i.e. those that can occur
in the real direct quotations) are prohibited as in (17); plain forms must
instead be utilized.
(17) a.
#Midori wa jibun o shiranai no desu ka to itta.

INDIRECT DIRECT

b.
#Midori wa jibun ni denwa shite kudasai to itta.3

INDIRECT DIRECT

Blended speech permits peculiar usage of donatory verbs (e.g.

ageru/kureru ‘give’, morau ‘receive’). As discussed in Chapter 13,
donatory verbs have strict constraints in their distribution; the b-sentences
below, for example, are ungrammatical.
(18) a.
Boku ga Hanako ni okane o yatta.

518
 I NOM to money ACC gave

‘I gave money to Hanako.’

b. *Hanako ga boku ni okane o yatta.
‘Hanako gave money to me.’
(19) a.
Hanako ga boku ni okane o kureta

NOM I to money ACC gave

‘Hanako gave money to me.’

b. *Boku ga Hanako ni okane o kureta.4
‘I gave money to Hanako.’
The sentences in (18) testify to the fact that yaru cannot be used when
the recipient is the speaker, whereas those in (19) demonstrate that kureru
is incompatible in situations in which the speaker gives to a third person.
Nevertheless, when a donatory event is reported, violation of these rules
becomes acceptable, as happens in (20).
(20) a.
Hanako wa boku ni okane o yatta to iifurashite iru

TOP I to money ACC gave QUOT is.spreading

‘Hanako is telling everybody that she gave me money.’

b.
Hanako wa boku ga kanojo ni okane o kureta

TOP I NOM she to money ACC gave

‘Hanako says that I gave money to her.’

Boku ni okane o yatta, which is ungrammatical in (18b), is grammatical

in (20a). Likewise, boku ga Hanako ni okane o kureta is ungrammatical in
(19b), but grammatical in (20b). According to Kuno, the sentences in (20)
are examples of blended discourse with boku ni/ga in indirect speech, with
the remainder in quasi-direct speech.
27.5 Free indirect speech

519
FREE INDIRECT SPEECH is typically used to refer to a literary technique
in third-person narrative for representing a character’s consciousness. In
English, it combines the person and tense of indirect speech (e.g. she
would arrive, thought John) with expressions appropriate to direct speech
(e.g. here, tomorrow): She would arrive here tomorrow, thought John.
This form allows a third-person narrative to incorporate a first-person
point of view as exemplified in (21), the opening passage of Virginia
Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway.
(21) (a) Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. (b) For
Lucy had her work cut out for her. (c) The doors would be taken off
their hinges; (d) Rumpelmayer’s men were coming. (e) And then,
thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning – fresh as if issued to
children on a beach.
The novel begins with indirect speech, (21a), followed by free indirect
speech. The verb tenses and colloquial usages of (21b–21d) indicate
normal narrative flow, but the contents are direct representations of Mrs.
Dalloway’s thoughts, not those of the narrator. The beginning of (21e) is
again in the form of indirect speech, supplying the main-clause predicate,
thought Clarissa Dalloway, but what a morning is an exclamatory
utterance inappropriate in indirect speech: *She thought (that) what a
morning.
In Japanese fiction, a character’s consciousness is represented by the
exclusive use of private expressions (vis-à-vis public expressions)
normally in the non-past tense. PUBLIC EXPRESSION corresponds to the
communicative function of language; PRIVATE EXPRESSION corresponds
to the non-communicative, thought-expressing function of language
(Hirose 1995). Public expression in Japanese frequently, but not always,
includes interactional, or addressee-oriented, elements. These include: (i)
directives (e.g. commands, requests, questions, warnings); (ii) certain SFPs
(e.g. ze ‘I tell you’); (iii) VOCATIVES (e.g. oi ‘hey’); (iv) responses (e.g.
hai ‘yes’, iie ‘no’); (v) interactive expressions of various kinds (e.g.
sumimasen ga ‘excuse me, but’, koko dake no hanashi dakedo ‘it’s
between you and me’); (vi) polite forms (e.g. desu/masu), and (vii) hearsay
expressions (e.g. sō da ‘I hear that’). The lack of such elements, however,
does not guarantee that the utterance is private.
The public/private distinction surfaces when different verbs are used to
describe a person’s thought or speech. While verbs of saying can
accompany a quoted clause in both public expression (i.e. direct speech)

520
and private expression (i.e. indirect speech), verbs of thinking permit only
private expression.
(22) a.
Tarō wa ame da to omotte iru.

TOP rain COP QUOT thinks

‘Taro thinks it’s raining.’

b.
*Tarō wa, ame da ne to omotte iru.

TOP rain COP SFP QUOT thinks

‘Taro thinks “It’s raining, you know.”’

c.
*Tarō wa, ame desu to omotte iru.

TOP rain COP.POL QUOT thinks

‘Taro thinks politely “It’s raining.”’

d.
*Tarō wa, ame da sō da to omotte iru.

top rain COP EVID QUOT thinks

‘Taro thinks “I hear it’s raining.”’

In (23), quoted from KAWABATA Yasunari’s Yama no oto ‘The Sound

of the Mountain’, the narrative shifts from the ta-form to the ru-form.
(23)
“Oshi da.” to Shingo wa tsubuyaita. Gyā! to

mute COP QUOT TOP muttered QUOT

to wa chigau

from is.different

‘“(This cicada) is mute,” Shingo muttered. It was [Lit. is] different from the one t
sang loudly.’

521
 The ta-form in the first sentence (tsubuyaita) indicates that it is the
narrator’s voice, with a direct quotation of Shingo’s utterance, whereas the
ru-form in the second sentence (chigau) indicates that it is in free indirect
speech, a direct representation of Shingo’s thought. If the ta-form chigatta
‘was different’ had been employed, the sentence would no longer be in
free indirect speech, but would be a description of the situation as an
objective fact from the narrator’s viewpoint.
Free indirect speech can also occur in first-person narrative, where the
first-person pronoun refers to the person as either the narrator or the
protagonist. The following is the opening sentence of KODA Aya’s
Nagareru ‘Flowing’ accompanied by Alan Tansman’s (1993: 13)
translation.
(24)
Kono uchi ni ga, doko kara haitte ii ka
chigai-
nai

this house must.be but where from enter good INT

katteguchi ga nakatta.

kitchen.door NOM not.existed

‘This was [Lit. is] certainly the house, but there was no kitchen door.

Where was the entrance?’

The demonstrative this is selected in the translation based on the

protagonist’s perspective – i.e. the house is in front of the protagonist – but
was is the narrator’s past tense. Similarly, the interrogative form of the
second sentence in translation reflects the protagonist’s thought, but, again,
the tense is anterior to the narrative time.
As another example of first-person narrative, (25) is derived from
NATSUME Soseki’s Sanshirō.
(25)
“Odeni ka” to kiku to sensei wa sukoshi
narimasen

come.out.not INT QUOT ask when professor TOP a.little

522
 warai nagara, mugon no mama kubi o yoko ni futta

smile while without.a.word neck ACC side to shook

Kodomo no yōna shosa o suru.

child GEN like gesture ACC do

‘When (I) asked “Would you like to come out?” Professor smiled a little
and shook his head side to side without saying a word, like a child does
([Lit.] He does a childish gesture).’

The first sentence in the past tense is part of narration, but the second is
Sanshirō’s inner thought about the professor’s gesture. Only the shift of
tense marker signals this rhetorical move.
27.6 Self-quotation
We quote not only other people’s speech, but also our own speech, to
qualify and emphasize our speech acts so as to ensure their efficacy. In the
following conversation derived from Maynard (1996: 222), the teacher (T)
springs a pop quiz on students, one of whom is Nonohara (N), the comic
book’s female hero. The teacher’s utterance marked by “→” is a self-
quote, emphasizing his prior speech.
(26) T: Nonohara!!
N: Giku. (surprised)
‘Oops.’
T:

Misenasai!! Ima Kobayashi ga tsukue no ni oite

ue itta

show.IMP now NOM desk’s.top on left

‘Show it to me! The piece of paper that Kobayashi left on (your) desk just
N:

A… Ano …

‘Uhh … Well …’
→ T:

523
 Misenasai to itte irun da!!

show.IMP QUOT saying COP

‘Show it to me, I say!’

Another use of self-quotation is to mock or parody one’s own speech

(Maynard 1996: 221). In this exchange, also derived from a comic,
Hoshina (H) and Sari (S) are beginning to fall in love.
(27) H:
Kedo omae no me de wakaru.

but you GEN eye with understand

‘But I understand (you) by (looking into) your eyes.’

S: Kā. (embarrassed)
‘Ohh …’
→ H:

Nān chatte na.

such say SFP

‘Umm, just kidding.’

Having spoken quite intimately to Sari, Hoshina feels embarrassed and

vulnerable. In order to circumvent possible rejection, he parodies his own
speech act by self-quotation, nān chatte na, a colloquial, blunt male
version of nante itte shimatte ne ‘[Lit.] I’ve ended up saying so; I
shouldn’t be saying this.’ Another example of this type from Maynard
(1996: 221) is provided in (28).
(28)
Ūn daigaku tte yappari kono kurai hirokunakucha

uhh university QUOT after.all this much must.be.large

ka itte.

INT SAY

524
 ‘Well, universities should after all be as large as this, you know … just kidding.’

When the speaker of (28) and her friend are visiting a university
campus, she compares the university’s facilities with their own. Aware that
their conversation is being recorded, the speaker feels it necessary to
assuage her serious tone by means of self-parody using to ka itte ‘[Lit.]
saying something like’, which is, in effect, similar to the English qualifiers
just kidding or just saying (delivered in a light, mocking tone).
The third function of speech-act qualification by self-quotation is
mitigation, i.e. weakening the impact of a statement. Omou ‘think’ is
frequently used for this purpose:
(29) a.
Gorikai itadaki- mono da to omoimasu
tai

understanding.HON receive- thing COP QUOT think.POL

want

‘[Lit.] I think I hope you will understand it.’

b.
Gorikai itadaki-tai mono desu.

‘I hope you will understand it.’

(29a) is theoretically ambiguous, offering two possible interpretations of

the utterance: it can be understood as a report/description of the speaker’s
thought, or as a qualified speech act. With the past tense omoimashita
‘thought’ is used instead, only the first interpretation is available; however,
in the non-past tense, the second interpretation is more likely intended.
With respect to the qualified speech-act interpretation, (29a) and (29b)
deliver identical meaning. The effect of omou in (29a) is to soften the force
of the assertion and create the impression that the speaker is not brash,
tactless, or domineering. Such usage, however, can be judged negatively as
too indirect or manipulative.
Self-quotation involves placing one’s own speech or thought within a
larger frame of saying. Or, in Kamada’s (1988) account, self-quotation
introduces one situation of talk into another situation. By so doing, one can
objectify the quoted content and separate it from the speech act, which can
then be qualified. Maynard (1996: 208–09) contends that when speakers

525
take on character roles, they can make use of self-quotation, among other
purposes, to expand their range of expression and to enhance the dramatic
effects of their speech acts.
Speakers assume different character roles as they interact according
to a context which the speakers themselves help create. When
assuming the voice of a character, the speakers are capable of echoing
multiple voices manipulated through … quotation strategies … what
motivates the speaker to self-quote is a desire to manipulate a broader
range of expressiveness in interaction. More concretely, self-
quotation facilitates discourse functions such as dramatization and
distancing. Self-quotation also serves to qualify speech acts as it
mitigates, parodies, and/or emphasizes the act of “saying” itself.
Presenting part of a message as quotation enables the speaker to provide
information that would otherwise be unavailable. For example, (30a) and
(30b) convey the same message, but the underlined part of (30b) is a direct
quotation of the speaker’s inner speech with the emphatic SFP zo, and
revealing it makes the utterance more vivid while conveying closeness and
intimacy to the addressee (see Section 22.6).
(30) a.
Kono keiyaku wa kiken desu.

this contract TOP risky COP.POL

‘This contract is risky.’

b.
Kono keiyaku wa kiken da zo to omoimasu.

this contract TOP risky COP SFP QUOT think.POL

‘I think this contract is risky.’

Here is my favorite example that demonstrates how self-quotation

enables a speaker’s two roles – one for thinking, the other for
communicating.
(31)
Temēra namen-na yo to mōshiage-tai.

you not.take.lightly.IMP SFP QUOT say.HUM-want

‘I’d like to say, “Listen, you pig, you’d better take me seriously, or

526
 else!”’

Suppose that (31) is uttered by a professor addressing his/her students in

classroom. Temēra is a vulgar second-person plural pronoun, and namen-
na yo ‘(I tell you) don’t take me lightly’ is a crude, unrefined command,
both of which are inappropriate in the given situation. However, when they
are embedded as a direct quote that includes mōshiageru, the humble form
of ‘say’, (31) becomes utterable. The vulgar part exists within the
professor’s inner speech, which cannot and should not be controlled or
controllable.
1 Japanese quotation marks are「 (opening) and 」(closing).
2 See Hirose (1995) for further discussion regarding jibun.
3 This utterance is possible if jibun is used contrastively. That is, Please
call ME, not someone else.
4 This use of kureru is possible in some dialects.

527
 28 Gendered language
28.1 Introduction
While all languages probably lead their male and female speakers into
somewhat different patterns of talk, Japanese is particularly well-known
for conspicuously differentiated GENDERED LANGUAGE/SPEECH.1
Beginning in the late 1970s, gendered language, particularly so-called
WOMEN’S LANGUAGE, has attracted considerable attention from
researchers. An increasing number have concluded that the alleged
characteristics of Japanese gendered language are not necessarily grounded
in empirical observations of the way Japanese men and women actually
speak. Rather, it may be that these characteristics are firmly rooted in
LANGUAGE IDEOLOGY, defined as “any sets of beliefs about language,
articulated by the users as a rationalization or justification of perceived
language structure and use” (Silverstein 1976: 193). This chapter will
explore Japanese gendered language both as a reflection of linguistic
ideology and as a phenomenon present in its day-to-day use.
When used in combination with an elaborate honorific system (see
Chapters 20–21), Japanese gendered language makes possible depictions
of multi-party conversations without overt identification of each speaker.
Japanologist Edward Seidensticker (1989: 145), who translated numerous
Japanese novels including Genji monogatari [‘The Tale of Genji]’, noted
that if the following conversation were made by four interlocutors –
Maude, George, Aunt Margaret, and Uncle John – it would be impossible
to record it in English without labeling who said each line:
(1) a. “You didn’t!”
b. “Oh, yes, I did.”
c. “But why?”
d. “Can’t you guess?”
e. “Because I loved her.”
f. “You should have told me.”
This conversation would have to be written in English along the lines of
(2).
(2) a. “You didn’t!” exclaimed Maude.
b. “Oh, yes, I did,” said George.
c. “But why?” wondered Aunt Margaret.

528
 d. “Can’t you guess?” said Uncle John.
e. “Because I loved her,” responded George.
f. “You should have told me,” declared Aunt Margaret.
In Japanese, on the other hand, adroit selections of gendered language
and honorific expressions make this conversation comprehensible without
overt reference to any of the interlocutors. Interpreting this conversation to
be about an extramarital affair on the part of George, who is Maude’s
husband, I would translate it as follows.
(3) a.
Nanimo nakattat-te it-te yo.

nothing happened-QUOT say-TE SFP

‘Tell me nothing has happened.’

b.
Jibun o osaeru koto ga dekinakattanda.

self ACC control NMLZ NOM could.not

‘I couldn’t control myself.’

c.
Demo dōshite desu no?

but why COP SFP

‘But why?’
d.
Omaesan ni wa wakar-an no kane?

you for understand-not NMLZ SFP

‘You don’t understand?’

e.
Soko made ano hito o suki ni natteshimattanda.

that much that person ACC like have.become

‘I fell so in love with her.’

529
 f. Semete watakushi ni itte- beki deshita wa-
wa kudasaru ne.

at.least I to tell- ought.to was.POL SFP

give.HON

‘You should have at least told me.’

In (3a), the te-form of the verb followed by the SFP (SFP) yo occurs
mainly in casual female speech; its male counterpart is itte kure yo, where
kure is the imperative form of kureru ‘give’.2 In (3b), deki-nakat-ta-n-da –
the past tense of deki-nai ‘cannot do’ followed by the abbreviated form of
the nominalizer no combined with the abrupt ending with the copula da –
is normally judged as male-speech style; the female counterpart is deki-
nakat-ta-no (yo). In (3c), desu no – the addressee honorific version of the
copula and the SFP no – implies that the speaker is a female who speaks
gracefully or standoffishly. In (3d), the use of omae-san ‘you’, wakar-an, a
negative form of wakaru ‘understand’, and the combination of the SFPs ka
and ne point to an elderly male speaker. In (3e), shimat-ta-n-da is in the
same construction as in (3b). Regarding (3f), the use of watakushi in
casual conversation is considered female speech; the use of the referent
honorific kudasaru ‘give’ determines the speaker to be a reserved or aloof
woman. This utterance also contains the addressee honorific deshita,
which in casual conversation is more likely to be used by female speakers.
Finally, the combination of SFPs wa and ne is stereotypical female speech.
28.2 Formal characteristics of Japanese gendered
speech
Gendered expressions are scattered throughout Japanese speech. As
discussed in Section 20.6, the beautifier prefix o- (e.g. o-hana ‘flower’) is
more frequently used by female speakers than by male speakers, and when
the addressee and the referent are identical, as explained in Section 20.7,
the use of a referent honorific without an addressee honorific (e.g. Ashita
irassharu? ‘Will you come tomorrow?’) is found exclusively in female
speech.3 Other areas in which gender differences are prominent include the
selection of (i) personal pronouns, (ii) interjections, (iii) SFPs, (iv)
directives (e.g. commands, requests, questions), (v) gendered vocabulary,
(vi) vowel coalescence in pronunciation, (vii) presence or absence of the
copula, and (viii) other miscellaneous expressions. In the following

530
descriptions of these areas, “M” stands for masculine, “N” for neutral, and
“F” for feminine expressions.
(4) a. First-person pronouns
M: ore, boku, oira (very casual), washi (obsolete)
N: watashi (formal), watakushi (very formal)
F: atashi
b.Second-person pronouns
M: omae, kimi, kisama (dramatic), temē (vulgar)
N: anata, anta (very casual), otaku ([Lit.] ‘your house’), sochira
([Lit.] ‘that side’)
Watashi in (4a) is gender-neutral, while atashi is female speech. Note,
however, that for male speakers, watashi is restricted to formal registers.
In casual conversations, males use boku and the cruder ore. For example,
in the Tōkyō dialect, (5) is interpreted as a male utterance because of the
use of the male first-person pronoun ore.4
(5)
Ore kaeru.

I go.home

‘I’m going home.’

(6) Interjections
M: che!, oi, oya?, yō
N: ā, hā?, fūn, hē, hō, hora, uwā
F: ara, mā, sōnē
(7)
Ara, omoshiroi.

oh interesting

‘Oh, it’s interesting.’

(7) is understood as a female utterance due to the use of the exclamatory

interjection ara (with a falling intonation).
(8) Sentence-final particles
M: na, yo-na, zo, ze
N: ne, yo, yo-ne
F: kashira, no-ne, no-yo-ne, wa, wa-ne, wa-yo
(9) M:

531
 Ame ga furu zo/ze.

rain NOM fall SFP

‘It’s going to rain.’

F:

Ame ga furu wa-yo.

(10) M:
Atsui na.

hot SFP

‘It’s hot, isn’t it?’

F:

Atsui wa-ne.
(11) Commands
M:

Kore kopī shiro (yo).

this copy do.IMP SFP

‘Copy this!’
N:

Kore kopī shi-nasai.5

do-IMP
(12) Negative commands
M:

Kore kopī suru na (yo).

this copy do NEG.IMP SFP

‘Don’t copy this!’

N:

532
 Kore kopī shi-nai-de.

do-NEG-TE
(13) Requests
M:

Kore kopī shi-te kure.

this copy do-TE give.IMP

‘Please copy this.’

F1:

Kore kopī shi-te ne.

do-TE SFP

F2:

Kore kopī shi-te chōdai.6

do-TE give.IMP
(14) Questions
M:

Shiai mi ni iku kai?

game see for go INT

‘Are you going to see the game?’

N:

Shiai mi ni iku?
(15) Gendered vocabulary
M: meshi (for gohan ‘meal’), kuu (for taberu ‘eat’), dekai (for ōkii
‘big’)
F: iyān (for iya ‘no’), suteki ‘marvelous’ (not exclusively in female
speech, but men use it much less frequently)
(16) Vowel coalescence in pronunciation: ai > ē
M:

533
 Mizu nomi-tē. (< nomi-tai)

water drink-want.to

‘I want to drink water.’

M:

Mendokusē nā. (< mendokusai)

troublesome SFP

‘It’s troublesome.’
(17) The copula + a sentence-final particle
M:

Kore wa kumo da yo/ne/yo-ne.

this TOP spider COP SFP

‘This is a spider.’
F:

Kore wa kumo Ø yo/ne/yo-ne.

Gendered language has been undergoing rapid and drastic change. For
more than twenty-five years, I rarely had occasion to watch Japanese
movies, television dramas, and theatrical productions. Recently, however,
I have examined more than 200 random samples of contemporary cultural
media, and found that while male speech has not undergone many
changes, female speech has changed considerably. Most female characters
are now portrayed as publicly using what was formally considered male
speech, as in (17M), and do so much more frequently than their cohorts
did two-plus decades ago.
Koto, which is generally used to refer to an abstract object – e.g. ashita
suru koto ‘things I (have to) do tomorrow’ – also functions as a
nominalizer (see Section 15.1). Like English that – as in That we are not
alone in the universe is evident – koto can convert a clause into a noun. It
is widely agreed that completing a sentence forthrightly might on occasion
sound too assertive, so some female speakers prefer to end an utterance
with koto.7

534
(18) F:
Hē omoshiroi koto.

hmm interesting NMLZ

‘Hmm, that’s interesting!’

Due to specific male and female speech forms, if an utterance were

transcribed and subjected to judgment with no further contextual
information included, most native speakers of Japanese could determine
the speaker’s gender. If the form, however, were gender-neutral, this kind
of determination would be impossible or simply random.
There are many variations and gradations of gendered-speech. Okamoto
and Sato (1992) posit five categories: strongly masculine (e.g. 4M, 5, 8M,
9M, 11M, 12M, 13M,14M, 15M, 16), moderately masculine (10M, 17M),
neutral (e.g. 4N, 6N, 8N, 11N, 12N, 14N), moderately feminine (13F1)
and strongly feminine (e.g. 4F, 7, 8F, 9F, 10F, 13F2, 15F, 17F, 18). One
way to interpret these categories is as follows: when moderately masculine
forms are used by a female speaker or when moderately feminine forms
are used by a male speaker, such utterances may not necessarily draw
special attention from the hearer(s) with respect to gendered role-behavior.
However, when strongly masculine or strongly feminine forms are used by
members of the opposite sex, they will necessarily be considered marked
language uses, and the hearers are likely to make inferences regarding the
potential motivations of such marked selections, e.g. attempts at
feminizing, joking, mimicking, ridiculing.
Regarding prescriptive categorizations of gendered speech, it is
unreasonable to expect that native speakers of Japanese uniformly agree
with all of them in toto. Nevertheless, such categorizations represent the
intuition of many native speakers, and most native speakers agree with the
classifications of most of the expressions cited above.
28.3 Role language
It is significant that when native speakers of Japanese read prescriptively
gendered language, they frequently regard it as being an excerpt from a
novel rather than a transcript of a real conversation. In other words,
gendered language markers are more often literary conventions than
reflections of real-life speech. Kinsui (2003) calls such social-identity
markers YAKUWARI-GO ‘role language’, i.e. indicators of stereotyped,

535
sometimes fictitious, speech styles useful for the depiction of a particular
social role. The use of such language automatically identifies the
character’s relevant social role, allowing the writer to avoid lengthy
characterization of each character in a novel. Even today’s best-selling
novelists occasionally produce ideologically constructed stereotyped
language that is unheard of in modern-day Japanese life. Novelist SHIMIZU
Yoshinori (2003: 34–36) perceptively asserts that if the writer depicts
utterances of a supporting character (a non-protagonist) as if in
transcribing a real, tape-recorded conversation, too much weight will be
placed on that character and the story-line might be compromised.
Therefore, if, for example, a male supervisor in a story asks his
subordinate to carry out an assigned task, it is considered appropriate,
indeed conventional, to write the dialogue in stereotyped language (e.g.
Kyōjū ni yatte oite kure tamae ‘Please complete this today’). The word
tamae, to be explained shortly hereafter, is no longer routinely used.
Nevertheless, this is acceptable, even preferable, because the reader will
easily comprehend the conveyed information without paying special
attention to the actual locution of the utterance.
One typical role language is HAKASE-GO ‘doctor’s language’ (“doctor”
as in a learned person, not a medical doctor), as is illustrated in the two
sentences in (19) derived from the comic book series Tetsuwan Atomu
‘Astro Boy’.
(19)
Oya ja to? Washi wa Atomu no oya-
gawari

parent COP QUOT I TOP GEN parent-

surrogate

nattoru wai.

has.become SFP

‘Parent? I’ve been Atomu’s surrogate parent.’

The use of ja (a variation of the copula), washi (a first-person pronoun),

oru for iru as in natt-oru (abbreviation of natte-iru) and wai (an SFP)
invariably lead native Japanese speakers to identify these sentences as
uttered by an elderly man. In such entertainment genres as manga
‘comics’, most wise, and thus elderly, men speak this way despite the fact

536
that in real life elderly men do not speak in this manner.8
28.4 Origins and development of gendered
language in Japanese
Gendered speech in the Japanese language originated in ancient times. Sei
Shōnagon (ca. 966–1017), for instance, wrote in her celebrated collection
of essays Makura no sōshi [‘The Pillow Book’] that men’s and women’s
language would sound different even when both conveyed an identical
meaning.9 However, scholars generally agree that in earlier historical
periods gendered speech must have exhibited considerably fewer distinct
formal traits than do their modern counterparts (Mashimo 1969). In those
earlier periods, a woman expressed her femininity submissively: by not
initiating a conversation, by not completing utterances, and by not clearly
articulating her ideas, muttering to herself instead (Sato 2006: 110–11).
During the Muromachi period (1392–1568), distinctions between
masculine and feminine speech became clearer. For instance, women used
honorific markers – e.g. the verbal auxiliary masu – more frequently than
men did (Mashimo 1969: 9–10). This period also witnessed the
development of so-called NYŌBŌ KOTOBA ‘court ladies’ language’,
whose lexicon included many vocabulary items still used by modern
women, and to a lesser extent by men: e.g. himoji(i) ‘hungry’, oishi(i)
‘delicious’, o-furu ‘used article’, o-hada ‘skin’, o-hiya ‘cold water’, o-kazu
‘side dish’, o-miashi ‘legs’, o-shiru ‘soup’, o-tsumu ‘head’.
Although the tradition of differentiating men’s and women’s language
has ancient roots, most of the stylistic characteristics of Japanese gendered
language as we know them today emerged in the Meiji period (1868–
1912) (Komatsu 1988; Inoue 2004, 2006; Nakamura 2006). In order to
demonstrate this development, Komatsu (1988) compares the SFPs that
appear in the dialogues of SHIKITEI Sanba’s Ukiyoburo [‘Floating-World
Bathhouse’], published in 1809–13 during the Edo period (1603–1867)
with those of NATSUME Soseki’s Sanshirō (the male protagonist’s first
name), published in 1909 during the Meiji period (see Table 28.1).
Ukiyoburo depicts conversations of diverse groups of people in terms of
age, occupation, region, sex, and social class, whereas Sanshirō’s
conversations are those of characters who are young intellectuals of both
sexes. A subset of the data compiled by Komatsu is presented in Table
28.1, wherein “MW” indicates that the form was used by both men and
women, “M” exclusively by men, and “W” exclusively by women. Da is

537
the copula in its non-past form; “Ø” indicates absence of SFPs; “N” stands
for a noun.
Table 28.1 Development of gendered SFPs.
Sentence- Sentence-
Ukiyoburo Sanshirō Ukiyoburo Sanshir
final final
1809–13 1909 1809–13 1909
form form

da Ø MW M ~wa MW W

da na MW M N ne MW W

da ne MW M N yo MW W

da yo MW M da te M

da ze MW M da te ne M

da zo MW M da e W

~na MW M da no ya W

~sa MW M da yo nē W

~ya MW M da yo nō W

~ze MW M N nē W

~zo MW M ~na no W

da wa MW W ~no ne W

~no MW W ~wa ne W

~noyo MW W ~wa yo W

Table 28.1 clearly indicates that gender divergence became more

prominent during the Meiji Era. That is, during Meiji many previously
gender-neutral particles became gender-specific. For example, zo was used
by both sexes in Ukiyoburo, as shown in (20a), which is uttered by the
female bathhouse owner to greet female customers, but this particle is used

538
exclusively by men in Sanshirō. (Note that the honorific prefix go- in go-
genki ‘healthy’ co-occurs with zo in (20a),10 an unacceptable combination
in today’s Japanese because zo is characterized as a casual-to-vulgar
masculine particle.) Conversely, no-yo is used exclusively by women in
Sanshirō, but by both sexes in Ukiyoburo, as shown in (20b), where it is
uttered by a man to his friends.
(20) a.
Itsumo go-genki de ii zo.

always healthy.HON COP.TE good SFP

‘Good to see you’re well!’

b.
Katsu ga iu ni wa, kiden ga ii to iu

NOM in.saying you NOM good QUOT say

‘According to Katsu, you’d be suitable.’

Many researchers contend that present-day gendered language was

invented during the Meiji period – that is, during Japan’s early
modernization. For example, by 1880, innovative features of the speech
preferred by elitist, male secondary-school (similar to today’s high school)
students had begun to play a pivotal role in shaping modern gendered
language. In (21), kimi ‘you’, boku ‘I’ and tamae ‘give (imperative)’
exemplify newly emerged SHOSEI KOTOBA ‘schoolboys’ language’,
which, to a great extent, shaped modern-day men’s language (Tanaka
1988: 8).
(21) a.
Kimi ga chakufuku shita ni chigainai.

you NOM embezzle no.doubt

‘You must have pocketed it.’

b.
Kore dake ga boku no inochi no tsuna da.

this only NOM I GEN life GEN rope COP

539
 ‘Only this is my lifeline.’
c.
Kakusazu dashi-tamae.

not-hiding show-IMP

‘Don’t hide it. Show it to me!’

Even more influential than shosei kotoba was JOGAKUSEI KOTOBA

‘schoolgirls’ language’ in the development of modern-day women’s
language. Jogakusei referred to the “girls and young women of the elite
classes who attended the women’s secondary schools that had been
instituted as part of the early Meiji modernization project inspired by
Western liberal Enlightenment thought” (Inoue 2006: 38). Because of the
high frequency of the sentence-final expressions te-yo and da-wa,
jogakusei kotoba was also called TEYO-DAWA KOTOBA (Tanaka 1988: 8),
which the four expressions in (22) exemplify.
(22) a.
Yokutte yo.

good SFP

‘It’s OK.’
b.
Ara iya da wa.

oh disagreeable COP SFP

‘Oh, I don’t like it.’

c.
Iku koto yo.

go NMLZ SFP

‘I’ll go.’
d.
Kuru kashira.

come SFP

540
 ‘I wonder if she will come.’

To conservative ears, schoolgirls’ speech sounded cacophonous, shrill,

and, consequently, it was widely criticized and characterized as vulgar by
intellectuals and newspaper columnists. Nevertheless, by 1890, teyo-dawa
kotoba had spread even to upper-class women, and by 1900 this new
speech style had become well established as a more general and inclusive
women’s language (Komatsu 1988: 102–06). Because of its vibrancy, this
language was quickly disseminated by its adoption in novels and
magazines, and this wide circulation in print bestowed upon it prestige and
authority (Inoue 2006: 126). By the 1930s, teyo-dawa kotoba had largely
been accepted as the ideal female speech style, and upper-middle class
women begun to put it into daily practice (p. 133).
28.5 Gendered language in soliloquy
Gendered language is selected by a speaker according to the public
persona s/he wishes to present. Therefore, it is of interest to scrutinize how
gendered language manifests itself in soliloquy, where no addressee or
bystanders influence the speaker’s selection of gendered expressions.
As mentioned in Section 23.1, I experimentally collected a total of 3,042
soliloquy utterances from 24 native speakers of Japanese (Hasegawa
2010), 2,050 utterances made by 16 female speakers (aged between 20 and
60), and 992 by 8 male speakers (7 in their 20s and one in his 40s). Of the
2,050 female utterances, only 76 (3.7%) involved women’s language.
Male speakers used gendered language slightly more frequently (67 times,
or 6.8% of utterances).
However, both men and women used men’s language; only first-person
male pronouns were used exclusively by men. With one exception, all
male participants consistently used ore, a pronoun that is more casual than
boku. The subject who used boku never used ore. Masculine expressions
were almost exclusively used by male participants (e.g. meshi ‘meal’) and
vowel coalescence (e.g. mendokusē ‘troublesome’ < mendokusai),
although some female participants occasionally used them. The SFP yo-na
is not strongly masculine, but its distribution is nevertheless highly skewed
towards men’s language. By contrast, the distribution of ka-ne is less
skewed, but is still more common among male speakers. Significantly,
male participants never used women’s language.
In the past, information such as the speaker’s gender, geographical
origin (identified as a regional dialect), and social class membership was

541
considered to be the EVOKED MEANING of particular linguistic
expressions. By contrast, in recent years, an increasing number of
investigations of gendered language have suggested that certain linguistic
expressions point to a multiplicity of sociocultural significances, including
the spatiotemporal locus of the communicative situation (deixis, see
Chapter 26) and speech acts (Chapter 19). This relationship between a
linguistic expression and its context is referred to as INDEXICALITY,
derived from the term index, a system in which one entity points to
another, as, until recently, index cards in library card catalogs pointed to
books located on shelves.
Ochs (1993, 1996) considers affective stances as DIRECT INDEXES (i.e.
the pragmatic meaning of a linguistic expression) while gender and social
relationships are INDIRECT INDEXES. In the course of her analysis, Ochs
concludes that Japanese SFPs ze and wa directly index affective stances of
coarse versus delicate intensity, respectively, and that these affective
stances in turn indirectly index gender and gender images of masculinity
and femininity. Therefore, women can utilize masculine forms not
necessarily to express masculinity, but to express an affective stance of
directness or assertiveness, heretofore restricted and attributed to men.
When applied to soliloquy, Ochs’ analysis proves problematic. For
example, contrary to Ochs’ contention, there seems to be no flexibility in
the choice of first-person pronouns, male speakers invariably using either
ore or boku, and female speakers either watashi or atashi. In other words,
these pronouns directly index speakers’ gender identities.
Of related interest, Nakamura (2001) reports the same phenomenon in
Japanese children’s acquisition of what she calls gender-appropriate
language. Observing twelve boys and twelve girls aged between three and
six, Nakamura recognizes that when speaking with their mothers, boys
tend to use gender-neutral or moderately masculine forms, but when
speaking with same-sex peers, they use strongly masculine forms like
omae ‘you’ and dō surun da yo ‘what are you doing?’ (p.18). By contrast,
girls tend to use gender-neutral forms in both types of situations, with the
occasional use of feminine forms (p.18).
According to Nakamura, as early as age three, Japanese children have
already acquired an awareness of gendered language, and are corrected by
peers more frequently than by their mothers when gender-inappropriate
language is used. For example, a four-year-old girl was criticized by her
peers when she said umai nā! ‘this is delicious!’ – using the masculine

542
umai rather than the neutral oishii – which her female peers immediately
rejected as inappropriate. Likewise, a three-year-old boy was frequently
teased by his male peers for using the feminine SFP wa. “Peers often
assure the observance of gender-stereotyped norms by teasing and taunting
the child who fails to conform” (p. 34). Nakamura also recognizes some
persistent gender-based linguistic differences, saying:
we need to distinguish between the linguistic features most closely
tied to the speaker’s gender identity as male or female (i.e. linguistic
features that are used all the time) and those that relate to specific
role-situational constraints to be socially masculine or feminine (i.e.
linguistic features that vary according to one’s stance as influenced by
contextual and situational constraints …). For example, even when
girls are engaged in rough-and-tumble play in an aggressive manner,
they do not use masculine first person pronouns such as ore and boku,
although they might use masculine sentence-final particles such as zo
and ze. This occurs because some gender-based linguistic forms seem
to be linked more closely to the fixed gender identity of the speaker
than others, and incorrect use of some linguistic forms is more
marked than incorrect use of others
(p. 37).
The second problem with Ochs’ model of indexicality in language use is
its inability to account for the asymmetry observed in the present soliloquy
data. That is, while women might use masculine forms to emphasize such
attributed masculine characteristics as coarseness, men do not use feminine
forms to convey gentility. All feminine expressions were used exclusively
by female participants, whereas all masculine expressions, except for the
male first-person pronouns, were used by both sexes, with the frequency of
women’s usage varying considerably. Regarding this issue, Nakamura
(2001: 20) reports virtually identical traits among young children when
playing with boys’ and girls’ toys.
Girls often were willing to play with many of the toys that boys
typically play with (e.g. blocks), but it was difficult to get boys to
play with toys associated with girls (e.g. tea sets). This tendency
increased with age. Boys sometimes were willing to try girls’ toys
when playing with their mothers but refused to do so when playing
with other boys.
She also notes that girls can be assertive and rough, using masculine
linguistic forms, but boys normally do not use feminine forms with their

543
same-sex peers (p.35).
Why does this pronounced asymmetry arise if men’s and women’s
languages do not directly index gender or gender images of masculinity
and femininity, but, rather, different yet gender-neutral affective stances?
There must be some factors that motivate women and girls to use
masculine expressions, but discourage men and boys from using feminine
expressions. Before undertaking this inquiry, I will review two different,
but well-accepted approaches to the study of gendered linguistic behavior.
The two commonly recognized approaches utilize either the
DOMINANCE FRAMEWORK or the DIFFERENCE FRAMEWORK
(Cameron 1998: 215–21). The former claims that male dominance in
society is reflected in, as well as the major cause of, gendered language
(e.g. Lakoff 1975; Fishman 1983; West and Zimmerman 1983, 1987).
Dominance is not only attributed to individual males, but is also an
institutional power granted to them collectively by society. Because of
their lower status and the social pressures on them to “speak like a lady,”
many women tend to use more hedges, polite forms, etc. for conveying
their unassertiveness and insecurities as well as trivializing their talk and
accountability.
The difference framework (e.g. Maltz and Borker 1982; Tannen 1986,
1993) focuses more on linguistic “miscommunication” between the two
sexes and concludes that dominance and power do not play a significant
role in such “miscommunication.” This approach perceives men and
women as belonging to different subcultures and having different-but-
equally valid rules of conversation acquired from same-sex social
interactions throughout their adolescent years. Therefore, even when both
men and women attempt to treat each other as equals, subcultural
miscommunication can occur.
Uchida (1992: 558) strongly questions the validity of the anti-power-
based difference framework, claiming that the most important difference is
male dominance. In fact, male dominance exists and asserts itself
regardless of what the individual intends to communicate. She argues that
while the difference approach appeals to our desire to believe in the
equality of men and women, social equality in principle and social equality
in reality are two different matters wherein the former does not guarantee
the latter.
We can now see a parallel between the difference framework and Ochs’
double-tiered indexing approach to gendered language. Neither can

544
account for the asymmetry in linguistic behavior of males and females. In
soliloquy, where social pressure is minimal, female speakers use
masculine forms for expressing whatever attributes such forms bear,
whereas male speakers do not use feminine forms at all. Similarly, girls
use masculine forms when they are assertive and strong, but boys normally
do not use feminine forms when they are tender. In this regard, Uchida
(1992: 560) makes this telling observation.
The observation of power structure can also be made when we look at
the speech patterns acquired by girls and boys through same-sex
interactions with peers. Girls’ principles of cooperation,
collaboration, equality, sharing and relating and showing empathy
perfectly coincides with the “typical” female characteristics:
nurturing, supportive, expressive, emotive, friendly, relationship-
oriented, and other similar adjectives, which are also associated with
“weakness” and “powerlessness.” Boys’ patterns, on the other hand,
involve competing for and holding on to the floor, asserting,
challenging, arguing, showing one’s dominance and verbal
aggressiveness, which are associated with “powerful” and
“masculine” traits.
Postulating that certain expressions directly index tough intensity and
power is reasonable, but associating delicate intensity and powerlessness
appears quite arbitrary unless one acknowledges how femininity factors
into these traits. I thus conclude that Japanese “women’s language”
directly indexes the feminine gender image, which is considered inferior to
the masculine gender image in the social hierarchy. This is why males
consciously or unconsciously fear and reject feminine gendered language.
They shun it despite its association with gentility – a characteristic which
is claimed to be esteemed by both men and women.
1 The terms sex and gender are used to refer to related, but distinct,
concepts. Sex is a biological and binary categorization based mainly on
reproductive potential. (However, Blackless et al. (2000) estimates that
approximately 1 percent of new-born babies have neither standard male
nor female bodies.) Gender is a social construct that is learned and
performed by members of a society. Unlike sex, gender is not a binary
category; one’s appearance and actions can be perceived as more
masculine or more feminine than those of other individuals. A man, for
example, can utilize female speech if he wishes to identify his gender as
female, or vice versa.
2 Kureru is a ru-verb, so the imperative form derived by regular rules is

545
kure-ro, like tabe-ro ‘Eat!’. However, the irregular kure is more
commonly used as its imperative form.
3 Honorifics are not gender specific. However, women tend to use
honorifics more frequently than men.
4 During the Edo period (1603–1867), ore was used by both male and
female commoners in Tokyo (then called Edo). However, women,
especially those belonging to an upper class, began to avoid its use. As a
consequence, it became a male first-person pronoun (Komatsu 1988: 94–
95). In some of today’s dialects, ore is still gender-neutral.
5 Nasai is the imperative form of the honorific verb nasaru ‘do’.
6 Chōdai is a colloquial version of kudasai ‘give me’.
7 This feminine use of koto attaches to the copula, i-adjectives, or na-
adjectives + na. When koto follows the conclusive form or the negative
form of a verb in utterance-final position, it is understood as a command,
e.g. Enpitsu de kaku koto ‘Write with a pencil!’, Hairanai koto ‘Do not
enter!’.
8 A parallel might be drawn between role language and the so-called
“royal we,” e.g. We are not amused (= I am not amused), allegedly uttered
by Queen Victoria. Although the royal we is obsolete, “it is very much
alive in the ‘royalese’ of satirical journalism, parody and caricature, a
crude symbol of royalty” (Wales 1996: 64).
9 Koto kotonaru mono. Hōshi no kotoba. Otoko onna no kotoba. Gesu no
kotoba ni wa kanarazu moji amari shitari (from the Nōinbon version of
Makura no sōshi) ‘Different ways of speaking. A priest’s language. The
speech of men and of women. The common people always tend to add
extra syllables to their words’ (translation by Ivan Morris, Sei Shonagon
ca. 1000/1991).
10 In Modern Japanese, the prefix o- is used, as in o-genki.

546
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568
 Index
abbreviation of word 75–87
accent 38
accentless word 38
active voice 152
addressee
awareness of 287
exalted 273, 289
adjectival predicate 91
two place 92
adjective 65
attributive 65
evaluative 137, 138
i-adjective see i-adjective
marked 131, 133
na-adjective see na-adjective
neutral 131
nominal 66
predicative 66
scalar 136
scale-identifying function of 138
adjunct 97–99
adverb 67
degree 66
epistemic 308
moment 125
adversity
and benefactive 154
as a main-clause phenomenon 155
in indirect passive 154
lexical 154
passive 154, 155–158
affectedness construction 174
affective distance 282–284
affective stance 268, 289, 365, 367
agency
cancellation of 148
in causative 144
in transitivity 96

569
agent in passive 152
agglutinative language 3
aizuchi (backchannel) 320, 320–327
and negative politeness 326
and positive politeness 327
and sentence-final particle 322
frequency of 322–323
in Chinese 325–327
in English 325–327
timing of 325–326
Altaic language family 7
anaphora 104, 105, 335, 341
anaphor 104, 334
antecedent 104, 104, 334
apology (speech act) 245–247
Arabic numeral 44
argument 91, 97
aru (existential) 18, 26, 82, 100, 103, 116, 126
negative form 77
aspect 115, 115, 118
in transitivity 96
aspiration 31
attribute description 107
Austronesian language family 7
ba (conditional) 223, 239
backchannel 320, 320–327
see also aizuchi
beautification 267
as gendered language 357
benefactive 154, 164, 167–169
event 169
benefactor 167
beneficiary 167
deputative 168
marked by no tame ni 168
recipient 168
can-do construction 99
case 70
accusative 92, 95–96
agent 98

570
 allative 94
and transitivity 97
dative 93
experiencer 98
grammatical 98
nominative 91
patient 98
semantic 98
case marking 12, 96
and grammatical relation 99
fluctuation of 101
case particle 12, 70
emergence of 12
with indefinite words 104
casual speech 81–83
chau/jau 82
chimau/jimau 82
e deletion 82
eb deletion 82
i deletion 82
moraic nasal 82
w deletion 82
cataphora 334
causal relation 212, 214
Humean 212
causative 142
bi-clausal structure 151
derivation of 142
intermediary 150–151
let 149
lexical 142, 149–150
lexical vs. (s)aseru 148
permissive 149
short form of 147
-te morau 171–172
cause 212
vs. reason 213
causee 142
causer 142
Chinese 38, 49

571
classical Japanese 116, 177, 266
clause 91, 94
dependent 110, 114
main 110
quotative 111
subordinate 110
cleft construction 107, 107
co-construction 321, 327–329
collaborative finish see co-construction
command (speech act) 117–118, 247–248
gendered 358
pitch accent in 83, 248
common Japanese 15, 17
comparison 4, 134–136
adjective 134
hidden 137, 137
ijō 135, 139
ika 139–140
implicit 137
negative inequality 138
positive inequality 138
scale 138
standard of 134–135
complementizer 190, 192
see also nominalizer
compliment (speech act) 248–250
response to 249–250
compulsory education in Japan 51
concessive 210
concessive relation 212, 220–221
conditional 223
counterfactual 223, 233–235
enablement 225
generic/tenseless 235–237
in content domain 225–228
in epistemic domain 228–233
in speech-act domain 237–238
consciousness 341–342
consonant
length 34

572
 tap 33
controllability 204, 206
conversation analysis 319
coordinate compound 41, 41
and rendaku 41
coordination 110, 222
copula 65
adverbial form 79
attributive form 79, 79, 175
conjectural form 79
conjugation 79
coreference
in anaphora 334
with jibun 151, 162
dakuten 48
definite article 103–104
definiteness 103
deictic center 334
deixis 334–335
in represented speech 345–347
demonstrative 331–343
a- in soliloquy 339–341
adnominal 331
distal 331
distance model 332
double-binary model 333
ka- 331
ko- in soliloquy 337–338
medial 331
pronominal 331
proximal 331
so- in soliloquy 338–339
territory model 332
with non-restrictive relative clause 179
derivation
compounding 86–87
i-adjective to i-adjective 85
i-adjective to noun 83
i-adjective to verb 84
na-adjective to i-adjective 85

573
 na-adjective to noun 83
na-adjective to verb 84
na-adjective to verbal noun 84
noun to i-adjective 85
noun to na-adjective 85
noun to verb 84
noun to verbal noun 83
proper noun to verb 84
verb to i-adjective 85
verb to noun 83
verbal noun to verb 83
desu-masu form 256
dialect
/d/ and /r/ 33
/dzu/-/zu/ distinction 13
/ji/-/ʒi/ distinction 13
accentless 29
Central 21
copula variation 27
dispersion of new form 26
division of 21
Eastern 21
east-west opposition 26–27
existential verb variation 26
Fukushima 17
Goshogawara 23
imperative form 27
Izumo 25
Kagoshima 17, 24, 29
Kansai 30, 37
Kesen 23
Kinki 26, 29
Kōchi 24
Kyūshū 22
Nagoya 23–24, 30
Naha 18–21
Nakijin 21
negation in 27
Okinawa 18–21
Ōsaka 17, 28

574
 peripheral area 17
pitch accent variation 28–29
retention of /kwa, gwa/ 24
retention of /she, je/ 24
retention of /wo/ 25
snail 25–26
Takamatsu 29
te-form 27
Tōhoku 22
Tōkyō 17–19, 26, 28, 30, 37
Unpaku 22–23
Western 22
Yonaguni 30
direct object 92
in nominative case 99
discourse 102
domain
content 213
epistemic 214
speech act 214
doublet/triplet in vocabulary 62
Dravidian language family 7
Dutch 62, 160, 220
Haruma wage 69, 331
loanword 63
dvandva compound 41
Early Modern Japanese 13–14, 24
empathy 158, 283, 326
event time 121–122, 123–124, 126
event-reporting construction 106, 106, 114, 195, 216
evidentiality 309–314
evoked meaning 365
experiential perfect 124
expression
private 350
public 350
expressive vocabulary 30, 54
extraposition 192
face
negative 269, 270, 279

575
 positive 269, 271, 274, 277, 279
face-threatening act (FTA) 269–281
level of intrinsic imposition 276, 276, 278
factivity 191, 191–192, 218
floor, conversational 319
focus 107–108, 114
formal noun see koto
FUKUZAWA Yukichi 50–51
furigana 53
ga
genitive 12
nominative 12, 91
gap in relative clause 175–176
genbun-itchi (unification of speech and writing) movement 15–16
gender and sex 355
gendered language 355–368
difference framework of 367–368
dominance framework of 367–368
in soliloquy 365–368
origins of 361–365
Genji monogatari 10, 61, 355
gestalt 195
glottal stop 24
go (honorific prefix) 260, 262, 265
grammatical relation 91
Gricean Theory of Implicature 194, 202, 247
habitual 119
haiku 36–37
han-dakuten 48
head noun phrase 175
hearsay 291, 310–313, 318, 336, 350
Heike monogatari 12
hiragana 47, 49, 54
historical present 122
honorific 255
addressee 255, 256, 273
referent 255, 258, 273
subject 264
to express refinement 267–268
humble form see humilific

576
humilific 264–267
hybrid word 61–62
hyōjungo (standard Japanese) 14–15
i-adjective 66
adverbial form 80
conjectural form 81
conjugation 81
copula support for politeness 80
polite form 256–258
identifiability 103, 114
ideophone 71
and rendaku 42
onomatopoeia 71
iku (go)
as two-place intransitive 94
irregular in te-form 77
illocutionary act 243
illocutionary force 244
imperfective 118–120
indefinite article 103–104
indefinite phrase 103
indexicality 365
direct 365
indirect 365
indirect object 93
information packaging 102
information territory 315–318
direct form 315
indirect form 315
in-group 165, 165–167, 286
in honorific speech 262, 264
interjection 24, 30, 296
desune 320
exclamatory 291, 358
gendered 358
interlocutor 68
International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) 8, 24, 30–33
interrogative 4
interrogative phrase 103
intransitive 92

577
intransitive-causative pair 147
intransitive-transitive (lexical causative) pair 93, 147
invitation (speech act) 216, 250–251
irregular verb 52
percentage of 65
volitional form 76
iru (existential) 9, 18, 26, 77, 100, 103, 159
Ise monogatari 10, 12
Itoigawa-Shizuoka Tectonic Line 26
iu (say) 95, 111
Japan as a hierarchical society 272, 272
jibun
logophoric 347
reflexive 151, 162, 347
jogakusei kotoba (schoolgirls’ language) 364–365
ka (interrogative) 4, 293–294
-ka to derive verbal noun 83
kakari-musubi (opening-ending) rhetorical convention 11
kana 10
archaic 47
diacritic 48
orthographical convention 54–55
kana only movement 50
kanbun (Sinico-Japanese) 49
kanji 43
abolition of 50
frequency of usage 53
go-on 45
kan-on 45
kun reading 45, 46
on reading 45, 46–47, 61
productivity of 49
tōsō-on 45
writing English with 46
kara
agentive 160
causal 214–218
kashira (sentence-final particle) 294–295
katakana 47, 49, 54
for loanword 62

578
ke/-kke (sentence-final particle) 295–296
keredo(mo) (concessive) 221–222, 239
Kinkin-sensei eiga no yume 13
knowledge
conceptual 336
direct 335
experiential 336
indirect 335
ko- (anaphoric) 338
Kojiki 7–8
korosu (kill) 148
degree of transitivity 97
koto (nominalizer) 188, 189, 191
gendered 359
kuru (come)
causative form 143
causative-passive 163
conjugation 76
passive form 152
kyōtsūgo (common Japanese) 15, 17
language
arbitrariness of 71
creole 115, 115
gender-appropriate 366
ideology 355
non-tonal 38
pidgin 115
pitch accent 38–40
stress-accent 39
tonal 38
tone 38
latching 320
Late Old Japanese 9–10, 29
accentual patterns 29
emergence of -ta 116
long /e/ 11
loanword 30, 33–34, 54, 61, 62
and rendaku 41
frequency of 63
nuance of 62

579
 older 54
locutionary act 243
long consonant
in orthography 55
long vowel 10–11
in orthography 54
Lyman's Law 42
MAEJIMA Hisoka 50
Makura no sōshi 10, 361–362
makura-kotoba (pillow word) 16
Malagasy 247
malfactive 174
Man’yōgana 46, 47
Man’yōshū 7, 46, 61
maxim of manner 202
maxim of quantity 194
measured difference 136–138
-mi to derive noun 83
Middle Japanese 11–13, 29
accentual patterns 29
potential verb 78
mitai da (evidential) 311–312
modality 307
deontic 307–308
epistemic 308–309
in Japanese Linguistics 307
mode in transitivity 96
Modern Japanese 14–15
Momotarō 17, 17, 23, 104
mora 35, 37
in haiku 36–37
moraic nasal 10, 36
pronunciation of 36
Romanization of 57
Musashino 16
n(o) da construction 191–192
na (sentence-final particle) 296–297
na-adjective 66
nagara 210
-nai 139

580
 conjugation 81
-nai uchi ni 208–209
nara (conditional) 224, 231–233, 235–239
narrative
background 122–123, 196, 287
foreground 122–123, 196
nasai (imperative) 218, 248, 358
nasalization 32
native Japanese word 61
ne
in soliloquy 302–303
obligatory 317–318
optional 317–318
sentence-final particle 299–302
negation
external 192, 193
internal 192
metalinguistic 193, 194
scope of 109–110
ni
agentive 153
allative 94
concessive 239
dative 93, 98, 165
goal 205
in causative 142
location 204–205
no
genitive 64, 175
nominalizer 178, 188–189
sentence-final particle 297
node (causal) 217–219
nominal predicate 91
two place 92
nominalization 188, 193
nominalizer 188
nominative direct object 99–100
noni (concessive) 221–222, 239
non-past tense form 116
non-subject honorific see humilific

581
noun 64
adjectival 66
common 64
dimensional 132
formal 188
proper 64
noun complementation 186–187
vs. noun modification 187
noun modification 111, 135, 140
vs. noun complementation 187
noun phrase 91
numeral classifier 70
nyōbō kotoba (court ladies’ language) 362
o
accusative 47, 92, 190
accusative (in causative) 142, 144
honorific prefix 260, 262, 264, 267
location 100
object 64
see also direct/indirect object
affectiveness of 96
individuation of 96
okurigana 52
Old Japanese 7–9, 11, 21
/p/ in 31
α-β distinction in vowels 8, 8
onbin (euphony) 9–10
onomatopoeia 71
see also ideophone
and rendaku 42
opposition 220
origo 334
orthography reform 50–53
oru (existential) 26, 266, 361
out-group 165–167, 286
palatalization 33
in orthography 54
palatalized consonant 30, 31–32
particle 69
adverbial 70

582
 case 70
conjunctive 70
grammatical 39
interjective 293
interrogative 294
sentence-final 70, 293
passive
agentive NP in 158
bi-clausal structure 163
body part as the direct object 156
direct 153
direct-object 154, 154
empathy 158
eventive 159
in subordinate clause 155
indirect/adversity 154, 155–158
intransitive 153
involvement of the affected person 156
mono-clausal structure 163
ni-yotte 160–162
stative 159, 161
passive voice 152
past tense form 116
penultimate syllable 29
perfect 123–125, 125
of persistent situation 124
of recent past 124
of result 124
perfective 118–119
perlocutionary act 243
perlocutionary effect 244
pictograph 44
pillow word 16
pitch accent 38, 38–39
plain form 256
polite form 256
politeness
and friendliness 272
camaraderie 269, 271, 278, 286
deference 164, 170, 268–269, 273–275, 277–278, 281–282, 284, 286,

583
 289
discernment 271–272, 278, 280
distance 272–274, 277–278
history of 268
impoliteness 272, 289, 326–327
intimacy 269, 271, 275, 278, 282, 289, 353
negative 269–281
off the record strategy 269, 274–275
positive 269–281
speech style shift 282–288
volition 271, 278, 280
Portuguese 12, 42, 62
loanward from 63
possessive 64
possible world 223
postposition 4, 70, 145
-ppoi to derive i-adjective 85
pragmatic transfer 252
predicate 91
adjectival 91
dynamic 116
factive 191
nominal 91
nonfactive 191
one-place 94
stative 116, 118
three-place 94
two-place 94
verbal 91
preferred act 244
prenasalization 9, 13, 23
preposition 4
pre-sequence 275, 275
presupposition 191
progressive 119, 185
promise (speech act) 237
pronoun
first person 68
gendered 357–358
second person 68–69

584
 third person 69
Proto Japanese 29
psych-predicate (evidential) 313–314
question
wh 182
yes-no 182
question pull test 97–98
questioning (speech act) 216
gendered 359
quotative 95
ra-nuki kotoba (ra-less form) 79
rashii (evidential) 312–313
and omou ni (in my opinion) 312
-rashii to derive i-adjective 85
reactive token 323
backchannel 323
collaborative finish 323
reactive expression 323
repetition 323
resumptive opener 323
reason 212
vs. cause 213
reason relation 212
reference time 121, 123–124, 184
referent 68, 255
refusal (speech act) 251–253
rekishiteki kanazukai (historical kana usage) 51
relative clause 175
extraction from adverbial clause 181
extraction from relative clause 181–182
gapless 180–181
gapped externally-headed 175–178
internally-headed 178, 178–179
narrative-advancing 179
non-restrictive 179, 179
restrictive 179, 179
rendaku (sequential voicing) 31–41, 41
and coordinate compound 41
and ideophone/onomatopoeia 42
and loanword 41

585
 and Sino-Japanese word 41
Lyman's Law 42
request (speech act) 117, 172, 250–251
gendered 359
resultative 125–127, 184
re-tashi kotoba (re-more form) 79
role language 360–361
romaji only movement 50
Romanization 50
Cabinet Ordinance System (kunrei-shiki) 55
Hepburn System (Hebon-shiki) 55
royal we 361
-ru aida/aida-jū 202–211
-ru aida/uchi ni 210–211
-ru mae ni 207–208
-ru nara (conditional) 226–228, 239
-ru to 206–207
-ru to derive verb 84
-ru toki 120
rubi 53
ru-form in relative clause 184
Ruiju myōgishō 10–11, 29
ru-verb 27, 52
causative form 143
causative-passive 163
conjugation 76
okurigana 52
passive form 152
percentage of 65
volitional form 76
sa (sentence-final particle) 297
-sa to derive noun 83
self-quotation 352–354
sentence 91
sentence-final particle acquisition 304–306
sequential scanning 195
sequential voicing see rendaku
sex and gender 355
shosei kotoba (schoolboys’ language) 363–364
Sinico-Japanese (kanbun) 49

586
Sino-Japanese word 45, 61
and rendaku 41
frequency of 63
in orthography 54
in translation 62
sound structure of 61
snail dialect variation 25–26
sō da (evidential) 309–310
soliloquy
mode of discourse 290
to express intimacy and deference 289–292
sound change 9, 11, 13, 19, 32, 34, 51, 75, 256
sound symbolism 71–72
and rendaku 42
SOV language 4
speech
blended 348
direct 344, 345
free indirect 349–352
indirect 344
quasi-direct 348
speech act 243–245, 344
speech style
plain 267, 273–274, 282–292
polite 267, 273, 282–292
social role 284–286
staging 112–113, 114
standard Japanese 14–15
stative in relative clause 184
stem (invariant part) 65
stress accent 39
subject 64, 91, 102
development of 12
in dative 100, 100–101
inanimate 146
of subordinate clause 114
subject vs. topic 102
subordination 110, 222
sufficient condition 225
summary scanning 195

587
suppletion 258
suru (do)
causative form 143
causative-passive 163
conjugation 77
passive form 152
syllabic nasal 36
syllable 30, 35
complex 34
structure 35–36
synesthesia 71, 71
-ta ato (de) 203–204
-ta ato ni 204–205
-ta toki 120
ta-form in relative clause 184
tame ni (causal) 219
tap consonant 33
-tara 205–206
tara (conditional) 223, 238–239
taxis 115, 120–121
-te 202
-te ageru construction 168–170
-te aru construction 125–127
-te iru construction 118, 124–127, 202–211
-te kara 202–203
-te kureru construction 168–169, 173
-te kuru construction 173–174
-te morau construction 168–169
-te shimau construction
to cancel agency 96
-teki to derive na-adjective 85
tense 115, 115, 118
teyo-dawa kotoba 364–365
thanking (speech act) 253–254
there-construction 103, 114
time, two notions of 195
to
conditional 223, 226–230, 234, 236–239
quotative 95, 190, 310, 345
topic 102

588
 anaphoric 104, 114
and discourse 102
and subordinate clause 110
generic 105, 106
non-subject 105
unique 105
topic-comment construction 106–107, 109
toru (take) written with different kanji 45
transition relevance place 320
transitive 92
transitivity 95–96, 99
high 101
translation
furigana in 53
of agentive NP 160
of donatory verbs 169
of may I 251
of pronoun 69, 331
of wa-ga construction 112
of Western texts 50, 62–63
-tte (evidential) 310–311
turn-constructional unit 319
turn-taking 319
Ukigumo 15
Ukiyoburo 14, 362–363
uncertainty 231
unification of speech and writing movement 15–16
unspeakable sentence 313
u-verb 52
causative form 142
causative-passive 163
conjugation 76
passive form 152
percentage of 65
r-ending stem 77
te-form 77
volitional form 75
valence 94
in passive 154
verb

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 adverbial form 10, 75, 75, 83
attributive form 12
conclusive form 12, 75
conjugation 65, 76
ditransitive 93
donatory 164–165, 169
existential 18, 100, 103, 132–133, 256
honorific 258
humilific 167, 169–170, 255, 264
hypothetical form 75
imperative form 75, 247
inchoative 79
irregular see irregular verb
manner+action 72
meteorological 91
mizen-kei (irrealis form) 75, 77
negative form 75
negative imperative form 248
passive form 152
potential 78, 78
potential form 78–79
ra-less form (ra-nuki kotoba) 79
ru-verb see ru-verb
stative 211
ta form 78
te-form 9, 77–78
u-verb see u-verb
volitional form 75–76
verbal noun 64–65
verbal predicate 91
verifiability 191, 233, 236, 239
vocabulary
gendered 359
vocative 290, 350
volition
in transitivity 96
vowel
devoiced 37
gliding 40–41
length 34

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 lip-rounding 23, 30
long see long vowel
near-high central unrounded 23
vowel coalescence 365
gendered 359
vowel devoicing 37–38
and pitch accent 39
vs. deletion 39
vowel sequence 12, 40–41
wa
contrastive 108–109, 114
in quotative clause 111
negative scope 109–110
sentence-final particle 297–298, 365
topic 9
wa-ga construction 111–112, 114
want-to-do construction 99
wasei-eigo (English-like word) 64
word abbreviation 75–87
word frequency 72
word order typology 4
writing system
ideographic 43
logographic 43
phonographic 43
ya (sentence-final particle) 298
yakuwari-go (role language) 360–361
yo (sentence-final particle) 299–302
in soliloquy 303–304
yō da (evidential) 311–312
ze (sentence-final particle) 298–299, 365
zo (sentence-final particle) 299
zūzūben (zū-zū dialect) 23

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目录
Half title page 2
Title page 3
Copyright page 4
Dedication 5
Contents 6
List of figures 14
List of maps 15
List of tables 16
Preface 17
Abbreviations 19
Part I Introduction 21
1 Typological and historical overview 22
1.1 About the Japanese language 22
1.2 Historical development 24
1.2.1 Prehistoric age 24
1.2.2 Old Japanese (592–794 AD) 27
1.2.3 Late Old Japanese (794–1192) 30
1.2.4 Middle Japanese (1192–1603) 31
1.2.5 Early Modern Japanese (1603–1867) 34
1.2.6 Modern Japanese (1867 to present) 36
2 Dialects 41
2.1 Introduction 41
2.2 Okinawan dialects 42
2.3 Mainland dialects 47
2.3.1 Divisions by sound system 48
2.3.2 Divisions by vocabulary 51
2.3.3 Divisions by verb/adjective conjugation 54
2.3.4 Divisions by pitch accent patterns 55
3 Sound system 60
3.1 The syllable inventory 60

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 3.2 Long vowels and consonants 64
3.3 Syllables and moras 65
3.4 Vowel devoicing 68
3.5 Pitch accent 69
3.6 Successions of vowels 72
3.7 Sequential voicing (rendaku) 73
4 Writing system 76
4.1 Writing Japanese with kanji 76
4.2 Development of kana syllabaries 80
4.3 Orthography reforms 84
4.4 The frequencies of kanji in Japanese texts 88
4.5 Hiragana and katakana conventions 89
4.6 Romanization 89
Part II Lexicon 95
5 Vocabulary 96
5.1 Word categories 96
5.2 Word classes 100
5.2.1 Nouns 100
5.2.2 Verbs 101
5.2.3 Adjectives 102
5.2.4 Adverbs 104
5.2.5 Pronouns 105
5.2.6 Particles 108
5.2.7 Numeral classifiers 109
5.2.8 Ideophones 110
5.3 Word frequencies 112
6 Word structure 115
6.1 Verb conjugation 115
6.2 Copula conjugation 121
6.3 I-adjective conjugation 123
6.4 Casual speech 125
6.5 Deriving nouns 126
6.6 Deriving verbs 128
6.7 Deriving adjectives 130

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 6.8 Compounding 132
6.9 Abbreviation 134
Part III Grammatical foundations 138
7 Grammatical relations and case marking 139
7.1 Introduction 139
7.2 Intransitive vs. transitive predicates 140
7.3 Valence 143
7.4 Transitivity 145
7.5 Arguments vs. adjuncts 147
7.6 Discrepancies between case and grammatical relations 149
7.7 Fluctuation between nominative and accusative markings 153
8 Subjects and topics 156
8.1 Introduction 156
8.2 Identifiability 156
8.3 Anaphoric topics 159
8.4 Generic topics 159
8.5 Unique topics 160
8.6 Non-subject topics 161
8.7 Topic–comment vs. event reporting sentences 161
8.8 Attribute description 163
8.9 Focus 163
8.10 Contrastive wa 165
8.11 Negative-scope marker wa 166
8.12 Dependent clauses 167
8.13 The wa–ga construction 170
8.14 Staging 171
8.15 A case study 171
9 Tense, aspect, and taxis 176
9.1 Introduction 176
9.2 Tense 176
9.3 Aspect 180
9.4 Taxis 183
9.5 Reference time 184
9.6 -Ta and ‑ru in discourse 187

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 9.7 The perfect 187
9.8 The resultative 190
9.9 Summary 193
Part IV Major clause types 195
10 Measurement and comparison 196
10.1 Measurement 196
10.2 Comparison 200
10.3 Measured difference 203
10.4 Less/fewer 207
10.5 Modifying nouns 210
11 Causatives 213
11.1 Introduction 213
11.2 Case marking of the causee 214
11.3 Animate vs. inanimate causers and causees 219
11.4 Causative vs. transitive verbs 221
11.5 The permissive causative 225
11.6 The intermediary causative 226
11.7 The structure of the causative construction 228
12 Passives 230
12.1 Introduction 230
12.2 Direct vs. indirect passives 232
12.3 Adversity in the indirect passive 236
12.4 Agency in passives 240
12.5 Stative verbs in passives 242
12.6 The ni-yotte passive 244
12.7 The structure of the passive constructions 248
12.8 The causative passive 249
13 Benefactives 252
13.1 Introduction 252
13.2 Donatory verbs 252
13.2.1 Directions of transfer 253
13.2.2 Relative status of giver and receiver 255
13.3 Benefactive constructions 256
13.3.1 Two types of beneficiary 257

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 13.3.2 The event benefactive 258
13.4 Implicit meanings of donatory verbs 259
13.5 The ‑te morau causative 261
13.6 The causative + ‑te itadaku 263
13.7 -Te kureru vs. ‑te kuru 265
13.8 Malefactive rendering 266
14 Noun modification and complementation 269
14.1 Introduction 269
14.2 The gapped externally headed relative clause 269
14.3 The internally headed relative clause 273
14.4 The gapless relative clause 276
14.5 Extraction from adverbial clauses 278
14.6 Extraction from relative clauses 279
14.7 Questioning a constituent inside relative clauses 280
14.8 Tense in relative clauses 283
14.9 Noun complementation 287
15 Nominalization 290
15.1 Introduction 290
15.2 No vs. koto 291
15.3 No/koto vs. to 293
15.4 The n(o) + copula construction 296
15.4.1 External negation 296
15.4.2 Metalinguistic negation 297
15.4.3 N(o) da as a nominal predication 299
15.4.4 N(o) da to supply background information 300
15.4.5 N(o) da and the expression of spontaneity 302
Part V Clause linkage 304
16 Temporal clauses 305
16.1 Introduction 305
16.2 P′ ≺ Q′ 305
16.2.1 P-te Q 305
16.2.2 P-te kara Q 307
16.2.3 P-ta ato (de) Q 307
16.2.4 P-ta ato ni Q 310

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 16.2.5 P-tara Q 312
16.2.6 P-ru to Q 313
16.2.7 P-ta toki Q 315
16.3 Q′ ≺ P′ 315
16.3.1 P-ru mae ni Q 315
16.3.2 P-nai uchi ni Q 316
16.3.3 P-ru toki Q 319
16.4 P′ ≈ Q′ 319
16.4.1 P-nagara Q 319
16.4.2 P-ru aida/uchi ni Q 320
16.4.3 P-ru aida/aida-jū (zutto) Q 321
17 Causal and concessive clauses 323
17.1 Introduction 323
17.2 Causal connections in Japanese 325
17.2.1 Kara 325
17.2.2 Node 329
17.2.3 Tame ni 333
17.3 Concessive connections 335
17.3.1 English 335
17.3.2 Japanese 336
18 Conditional clauses 341
18.1 Introduction 341
18.2 Content conditionals 343
18.3 Epistemic conditionals 348
18.3.1 P′ ≈ Q′ or P′ ≺ Q′ 348
18.3.2 Q′ ≺ P′ 351
18.3.3 Counterfactual conditionals 355
18.4 Generic (tenseless) conditionals 358
18.5 Speech-act conditionals 360
18.6 Summary 363
Part VI Pragmatics (language usage) 366
19 Speech acts 367
19.1 Introduction 367
19.2 Apologies 369

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 19.3 Commands 372
19.4 Compliments and responses 374
19.5 Invitations and requests 377
19.6 Refusal 379
19.7 Thanking 381
20 Politeness and honorifics I 384
20.1 Introduction 384
20.2 Addressee honorifics 385
20.2.1 Verbs 385
20.2.2 I-adjectives 386
20.3 Referent honorifics 388
20.3.1 Verbs 388
20.3.2 Combination of verb honorifics 393
20.3.3 Adjectives 394
20.3.4 Nouns 395
20.4 Humilifics 396
20.4.1 Verbs 396
20.4.2 Nouns 399
20.5 Humilifics as addressee honorifics 400
20.6 Beautification 401
20.7 Honorifics as an indication of refinement 402
21 Politeness and honorifics II 405
21.1 Introduction 405
21.2 Objections to Brown and Levinson’s theory 408
21.3 Counter-arguments to Ide’s theory 409
21.4 Honorifics and politeness 409
21.5 Problems with Brown and Levinson’s theory 411
21.5.1 Combining positive and negative politeness 411
21.5.2 One strategy per FTA 411
21.5.3 Risk avoidance as the sole motivation for politeness 415
21.6 Reconciling Brown and Levinson’s theory and Japanese
415
politeness
21.6.1 Robin Lakoff’s theory 416
21.6.2 Honorifics as a different politeness mode 416

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 21.6.3 Modifying Brown and Levinson’s theory 417
22 Speech style shift 421
22.1 Introduction 421
22.2 Affective distance 421
22.3 Social roles 424
22.4 Domains of information 428
22.5 Awareness of the addressee 429
22.6 The use of soliloquy to express intimacy and deference
432
simultaneously
23 Sentence-final particles 438
23.1 Introduction 438
23.2 Common sentence-final particles 439
23.2.1 Ka 439
23.2.2 Kashira 440
23.2.3 Ke 440
23.2.4 Na 442
23.2.5 No 443
23.2.6 Sa 444
23.2.7 Wa 445
23.2.8 Ya 445
23.2.9 Ze 446
23.2.10 Zo 447
23.3 Ne and yo in conversation 447
23.4 Ne and yo in soliloquy 452
23.4.1 Ne 452
23.4.2 Yo 453
23.5 Acquisition of sentence-final particles 456
24 Modality and evidentiality 459
24.1 Modality 459
24.1.1 Deontic modality 459
24.1.2 Epistemic modality 460
24.2 Evidentiality 462
24.2.1 Sō da 462
24.2.2 -Tte 464

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 24.2.3 Yō da/mitai da 465
24.2.4 Rashii 466
24.2.5 Other types of evidential expressions 468
24.3 Information territory 470
24.3.1 The theory of territory of information 470
24.3.2 Four cases of information 472
24.3.3 Obligatory vs. optional ne 474
24.3.4 Hearsay 474
25 Backchanneling 477
25.1 Introduction 477
25.2 Frequencies of backchannels in Japanese and American
481
English
25.3 Timing of backchannels 483
25.4 The co-construction puzzle 489
26 Demonstratives 494
26.1 Introduction 494
26.2 Deixis and anaphora 498
26.3 Anaphoric use of Japanese demonstratives 499
26.4 Ko-so-a in soliloquy 503
26.4.1 Ko- 503
26.4.2 So- 504
26.4.3 A- 506
26.4.4 Chafe’s model of consciousness 508
27 Represented speech 512
27.1 Introduction 512
27.2 Deixis in represented speech 513
27.3 Omission of verbs of saying/thinking 516
27.4 Blended speech 517
27.5 Free indirect speech 519
27.6 Self-quotation 523
28 Gendered language 528
28.1 Introduction 528
28.2 Formal characteristics of Japanese gendered speech 530
28.3 Role language 535

600
 28.4 Origins and development of gendered language in 537
Japanese
28.5 Gendered language in soliloquy 541
References 547
Index 569

601