A SURVEY OF THE ARTIFICIAL LANGUAGE TLHINGAN HOL: FROM CREATION TO CREATIVITY by Teresa Lynn Wells A Thesis Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Master of Arts ARIZONA STATE UNIVERSITY May 1996 A SURVEY OF THE ARTIFICIAL LANGUAGE TLHINGAN HOL: FROM CREATION TO CREATIVITY by Teresa Lynn Wells has been approved April 1996 APPROVED: , Chair Supervisory Committee ACCEPTED: Department Chair Dean, Graduate College ABSTRACT The artificial language tlhIngan Hol was researched over a period of three semesters, with in-depth analysis being conducted in several linguistic sub-disciplines: phonology, morphology, history, syntax, and semantics. Research showed that tlhIngan Hol was an extremely “alien” language for almost anyone to learn, but especially so for native speakers of American English. This was due to a number of factors, among them the diverse phonemic inventory of tlhIngan Hol; the agglutinative structure of the language; its “un-natural” word order; and its governing metaphor structure. The history of the language was researched to discover why this language should be so “alien,” and the current status of the language was monitored in order to determine how the language is evolving. Finally, all sources of the language and culture were reviewed to discover what the governing metaphors of tlhIngan Hol might be. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The author would like to acknowledge the contributions of the following people: Drs. Don L.F. Nilsen, Dawn Bates, and Elly van Gelderen, Chair and members respectively of the thesis committee; members of the Klingon Language Institute and of Starfleet International; and Dr. Marc Okrand, creator of this remarkable language. This work would not have been possible without their assistance. TABLE OF CONTENTS Page LIST OF TABLES.............................................................................................................vii INTRODUCTION...............................................................................................................1 Justification for this research...................................................................................1 BACKGROUND OF THE LANGUAGE...........................................................................2 Development............................................................................................................2 Interest in the Language...........................................................................................3 Phonology................................................................................................................4 Syntax......................................................................................................................9 Morphology............................................................................................................12 Lexicon..................................................................................................................14 The Klingon-Speaking Community.......................................................................15 Two Universes.......................................................................................................19 KLINGON SEMANTICS..................................................................................................21 Governing Metaphor in Klingon............................................................................21 Clipped Klingon.....................................................................................................53 Conclusions............................................................................................................55 Afterword: Current Status of the Language...........................................................55 REFERENCES..................................................................................................................59 APPENDIX A Phonology Paper....................................................................................................62 B Morphology Paper.................................................................................................78 C Syntax Paper..........................................................................................................98 D History Paper.......................................................................................................112 LIST OF TABLES Table Page 1 Vowel Phonemes in tlhIngan Hol................................................................5 2 Consonant Phonemes in tlhIngan Hol..........................................................6 3 English Consonant Phonemes for Comparison to tlhIngan Hol..................7 INTRODUCTION Justification for this research I’d like to begin by saying a few words about why I chose to study tlhIngan Hol, also known as Klingon, rather than researching a more “traditional” thesis topic. Science fiction works in general, and Star Trek in particular, do not receive much respect from the academic community; all too often they are simply dismissed as “escapism” without even a cursory glance. Yet I have believed for many years that science fiction has much to offer the serious student and researcher, and I hope to demonstrate that fact through this paper. In addition, I noted that a change has occurred in the world in which we live and work. A generation or two ago, linguists had the option of doing fieldwork in any number of natural languages that had not previously been formally studied. For the current generation of linguists-in-training that is no longer an easy option. Of course, one can always work in the realm of historical linguistics, or on one of the projects attempting to prevent endangered languages from becoming extinct, but that wasn’t my choice; I wanted to work with a living, growing language. I found an artificial language that has, over the course of the last few years, become a living language, with an active, growing community of speakers, translations and original literary works in the tongue, and scholarly research in progress by its speakers -- all essentially unknown by the academic world. I therefore decided to bring this language to light, and hope that others found it as fascinating and worthy of study as I did. To that end, in this thesis I will discuss the background of the language, its phonology, morphology, syntax, semantic theory, current status, and possible futures. BACKGROUND OF THE LANGUAGE Development tlhIngan Hol is an artificial language created in the early 1980’s by linguist Marc Okrand. Unlike many other artificial languages, tlhIngan Hol was not created with the ideal of it becoming a “world language” like Esperanto; indeed, Okrand never expected anyone to really learn it at all. The language was designed to be part of the background of the movie Star Trek: The Search for Spock, the third movie in the ongoing Star Trek saga. The characters of the Klingons had been created back in the 1960’s as recurring villains for the original television series; they had spoken deep-pitched and gutteral English at that time, and a few seconds worth of grunts and monosyllabic gibberish had been subtitled as the language in the first movie in 1979. By the early 1980’s, however, executives at Paramount Pictures (the company which owns the rights to Star Trek) had decided that they wanted a consistent language for these enduring characters, and contracted Okrand to fill the void for them. Okrand began by listening to the “Klingon” spoken in the first movie and comparing it to the subtitles on screen. From this small sample he selected the phonemes he heard and began to map out the rules of the language’s grammar. Once he had finished and the new movie had been released, Paramount decided that the work should be published, so Okrand turned the little bit of material that he had into a full-sized grammar and dictionary, including cultural notes. This book was released in 1985; an updated edition, which included material from the next three Star Trek films and several seasons of the Star Trek: The Next Generation television series, was released in 1992. Interest in the Language Almost simultaneously with the re-issuance of The Klingon Dictionary (in January of 1992) came the founding of the Klingon Language Institute (KLI). From the inside cover of the first issue of the Institute’s journal, HolQeD, we learn that “The Klingon Language Institute and HolQeD exist to facilitate the scholarly exploration of Klingon language and culture.” In addition, in the opening article by director Dr. Lawrence Schoen, we learn that The KLI was created as an attempt to bring together in one place Klingon language enthusiasts who were separated by physical distances, differing fan affiliations, and simple ignorance of one another. This journal is intended to serve as a forum for our common interest in Klingon language and linguistics. Since 1992, approximately one thousand people have joined the organization. Simon & Schuster, the publishers of The Klingon Dictionary, claim that over a quarter of a million copies of TKD are in print, which gives some insight into the interest people have in this language. Admittedly, many members of the KLI own more than one copy of the text, and many are owned by collectors rather than scholars, but those certainly do not account for all 250,000 copies. Phonology When Okrand was devising the language, he deliberately tried to make it “alien,” especially from the point of view of a native (American) English speaker. The first thing a listener realizes upon hearing the language is that there are a number of sounds that English doesn’t have. Nearly half of the phonemic inventory of Klingon is made up of sounds that are difficult for English speakers to produce; however, Okrand was careful to choose phonemes that are all possible for humans to articulate. Every phoneme in Klingon occurs somewhere in the world in a natural language, but as a whole, the set of phonemes is unique to this language. Klingon’s list of phonemes is as follows: five vowels, a, e, I, o, and u, and 21 consonants, b, ch, D, gh, H, j, l, m, n, ng, p, q, Q, r, S, t, tlh, v, w, y, and ’ (glottal stop). The vowels are a subset of those used in American English and are therefore familiar to the new speaker of Hol; learning them usually doesn’t require much thought or effort. The phoneme /I/ has an allophone [i] which occurs in free variation; the five phonemes and one allophone are detailed in the following chart, which replaces IPA typographical infelicities with digraphs commonly employed in the “practical orthography” used by writers of this language: Table 1 Vowel Phonemes in tlhIngan Hol High Mid Low Front - Lax - Unrounded I e Front - Tense - Unrounded [i] Mid - Lax Mid - Tense Back - Lax Back - Tense - Unrounded a Back - Tense - Rounded u o Also familiar to English speakers are the consonants b, ch, j, l, m, n, t, v, w, and y, and to a lesser extent the highly-aspirated p, the velar ng, and the trilled r. The rest of the consonants, however, give the language its “alien” quality. The D and S are retroflexed, in contrast to the alveolar t; the gh and H are velar fricatives, rather than a velar stop and a glottal glide, respectively. The q and Q are uvulars, the first a stop and the second an affricate. The tlh is a voiceless lateral affricate, similar to the [tÂ] in Aztec or Navajo. The phoneme p is highly aspirated in all positions, unlike its English counterpart, which is only aspirated in initial position; in the audio book “Conversational Klingon” narrator Michael Dorn reminds the listener that, when pronouncing this phoneme properly, the speaker will expectorate. The phoneme ng can occur in either syllable-initial or syllable- final position, again, unlike English; and the r is trilled, similar to the /r/ in Spanish or Italian. The following table diagrams Klingon consonant phonemes according to place and manner of articulation. Table 2 Consonant Phonemes in tlhIngan Hol Bilabial Labio- Dental Alveolar/ Palato- alveolar Retroflex Velar Uvular Glottal +Voice Stop b D -Voice Stop p t q ’ +Voice Fricative v gh -Voice Fricative S H +Voice Affricate j -Voice Affricate ch Q Nasal m n ng Glide w y Trill r Lateral l Lateral Affricate tlh In contrast, English (like most other natural languages) has a much more systematic phonology matrix; voiced and voiceless phonemes often are paired, sharing a single point of articulation, as we see in the next chart: Table 3 English Consonant Phonemes for Comparison to tlhIngan Hol Bilabial Labio- Dental Dental Alveolar Alveo- Palatal Velar +Voice Stop b d g -Voice Stop p t k +Voice Fricative v th zh -Voice Fricative f th sh +Voice Affricate j -Voice Affricate ch Nasal m n ng Glide w y Lateral l, r This lack of symmetry in the Klingon phonetic system is one of the major factors making Klingon an “alien” language: humans, no matter what language they speak, expect regularity in their phonemic systems, and Klingon does not conform to those expectations. What results is a language that sounds alien to the listener, and becomes even more alien when one begins to learn to speak it. Also in the realm of phonology, Klingon syllable structure is much more strict than that of English. Although the details of the structure are still being debated by Klingon linguists, in general the syllable may be thought of as CV(C), where a syllable must begin with a single consonant, must contain a single vowel, and then may have a final consonant. (Debate going on on the KLI listserv during the month of October, 1995, as well as at other times ). The only time this rule is broken in the language is when the final consonant position is filled with the two-consonant cluster rgh. This contrasts with the highly variable syllable structure of English, in which the initial position may be filled by from zero to three consonants, the vowel position by one to two vowels, and the final position by from zero to three consonants. Syntax When setting up the syntax of the language, Okrand chose a word order that would also be “alien” to speakers of almost any language: Object-Verb-Subject. This makes speakers think twice about what they are saying or hearing, because it easily could be the reverse of what they think it is. For example, in English we could say, The boy kicks the captain. But in Klingon the sentence would properly be, HoD pup loDHom captain kick boy which could easily be mistaken for “The captain kicks the boy” by an English speaker who fails to remember the word order rules. In the above example, we can also notice a number of other differences between Klingon and English. First, Klingon lacks articles, both definite and indefinite, so the Klingon sentence could just as easily be translated into English as “A captain kicks the boy,” or “The captain kicks a boy,” or “A captain kicks a boy.” Context would have to provide the proper article(s) for the English translation. Second, the verb does not have a suffix which marks it for person and number, as the English third-person singular “kicks” does; instead, Klingon uses a system of verbal prefixes which encode both subject and object pronouns into a single syllable. In the case of a third-person singular subject and third-person singular object, such as we have in the above example with “captain” and “boy,” the prefix is a null term, therefore not appearing on the verb pup. More detail on the verbal affix system occurs in the Morphology section below. In addition to the different word order in Klingon, Okrand designed the language so that the verb does not indicate tense, but only aspect. Past, present, or future are indicated by other methods in the language, such as adverbials of time or by context. Verbs also fill what would be considered adjectival roles if they were in English (i.e., there is no adjective “happy,” but there is a verb “to [be] happy”), and there is no “be” verb in Klingon. This seems very strange to English speakers at first, but makes a great deal of sense: after all, when verbs are filling adjective roles, there is no need for a copula. We would therefore render the English sentence, “The person is happy” by the Klingon construction Quch nuv, where there is a zero verbal prefix indicating third person subject/no object, Quch is the verb “be happy” (for lack of a better way of expressing it in English), and nuv is the noun “person.” We could translate this back into English as “Person happy,” but this does not get the point across that “happy” is a verb and not an adjective; instead, it just sounds like the verb has been left out of the sentence. However, a phrase such as “a happy person” can be rendered in Klingon by reversing the normal word order and placing the verb after the noun: nuv Quch [S/he is a] happy person. Quch nuv [The] person [is] happy. Note here, also, that Quch -- a verb -- can stand on its own as a complete sentence, something that verbs may only do in English if they are in command form, such as “Go!” This is because the Klingon verb, with its prefix (even if that prefix is a zero), fills all three “spaces” that are required for a Klingon sentence: Object (encoded in the prefix), Verb, and Subject (also encoded in the prefix). The English verb only manages to do this in the command form, where the subject (“I”) and the object (“you”) are both understood. The other use for a copula in English -- setting one noun “equal” to another -- is accomplished in Klingon simply by placing the two nouns (or noun and pronoun) next to each other: yaS jIH I am an officer. (Literally, “officer I”) Klingon has a verb which indicates existence, which takes care of another one of English’s major uses for the “be” verb, as is best demonstrated by the famous line from Hamlet, “To be, or not to be,” taH pagh taHbe’ where taH is a verb meaning “to continue, go on, endure,” pagh is the conjunction “or” when the conjunction is of two sentences (which this technically is, in Klingon grammar), and be’ is a verbal suffix meaning “negation.” Thus, the translation back to English becomes something like, “continue or continue-not.” Morphology Klingon morphology is radically different from English, in a number of ways. First, there is essentially no phonological variation within the language; only two phonemes in the language have allophones, and in one of those cases the pair of allophones are in complete free variation. In the other case, the allophone occurs in one very restricted environment. Addition of prefixes or suffixes in Klingon causes no change in pronunciation of either the root or the affixes, unlike English. For example, the English words “photograph” and “photography” have different stress patterns and differing pronunciations of the second and third vowels, thanks to the addition of the suffix “-y” on the second word. In Klingon, the addition of a suffix (or prefix) never alters the pronunciation of the stem, nor is there any assimilation between syllables to cause changes in pronunciation. The only “exception” to this rule is that, in the case of two glottal stops appearing next to each other, such as in Ho’’oy’ “toothache,” usually only one of the glottal stops will be heard. The most notable feature of Klingon morphology is its complex system of noun and verb affixes. Nouns may be used in the bare form or may take up to 5 suffixes; each suffix belongs to a particular Type, numbered One through Five, so that the “template” of a noun with all its affixes is N12345. Only one suffix of a given Type may be used at a time, and suffixes must be appended to the noun stem in numerical order; thus, a construction such as *N53 or *N22 would be ungrammatical, as we see from the following grammatical and ungrammatical examples: *paq-vaD-wIj paq-wIj-vaD *paq-pu’-mey *N 5 3 N 3 5 *N 2 2 *book-for-my book-my-for *book-PL-PL * “my for book” “for my book” *bookses This is roughly equivalent to the English example of the suffixes “-er” and “-s,” from which we derive the words “printer” and “printers;” we cannot put the “-s” before the “- er” to obtain *printser, nor can we use two plural morphemes (two affixes of the same “Type”) to obtain *printses. Klingon verbs are patterned like Klingon nouns, except that they are more complex. Verbs follow the “skeleton” PV-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9, where “P” indicates a prefix, “V” indicates the verb stem, the dashes indicate positions where members of a suffix Type known as “Rovers” may be inserted, and numbers indicate regular suffix Type positions. Verbal prefixes encode both the subject and the object of the verb in a single syllable; an example of this would be the verb legh “see” taking a prefix cho- “you-subject/me object” to form the verbal construct cholegh “you see me.” This system is extremely compact, and allows deletion of the overt subject and object in the sentence, but is also relatively complex. Among many other things, members of the various suffix Types encode Doubt, Hesitancy, Fear, and Honor, all important concepts in Klingon language and culture; I will address this in more detail below. Lexicon Klingon vocabulary is “alien” to English speakers, in more than its sound structure. For example, in English we have a stem “agree” to which any of several affixes may be attached: dis-agree, agree-able, etc. We consider the “positive” term “agree” to be the unmarked term, and a “negative” term such as “disagree” to be a marked term. In Klingon, just the opposite occurs: the unmarked term is “disagree” (Qoch), which must be marked with a negative suffix (-be’) in order to yield “agree” (literally, “not-disagree”). This same phenomenon occurs over and over in Klingon; just a few of the unmarked terms gloss as “disable,” “disappear,” “discourage,” “dishonest,” “unconscious,” “unimportant,” “uninhabited,” “uninteresting,” and “unprocessed.” Of course, this is not true for every single marked/unmarked pair (of either verbs or nouns) in Klingon and English, but it does occur with enough frequency to bear noting. It also brings up questions about the Klingon world view -- do they expect disagreement more often than agreement, etc.? These questions are beyond the scope of this paper; however, they would be excellent starting points for further research in the language. One other interesting note about Klingon vocabulary is that, when he was creating it, Marc Okrand slipped a number of “jokes” in that make the most sense if you are a native speaker of American English. The most famous of these jokes is the word for “tribble,” which is a small, furry creature that humans (and most other species) love, but which all Klingons instinctively abhor. The Klingon term for these little furballs is yIH, which sounds suspiciously like the sound an American makes when confronted by something s/he doesn’t like. The word for “hurt” is ’oy’, which also makes sense to most English speakers (especially if they are at all aquainted with Yiddish), as does tlhutlh for “to drink,” ’ugh for “be heavy,” and paw’ for “collide.” The Klingon-Speaking Community One of the difficulties that the Klingon-speaking world has to deal with is the notion of “canon,” or “authorized,” Klingon. This is a very messy issue, one that is not easily explained to an “outsider” who is not involved with the language community. First of all, there are more Klingon languages than just tlhIngan Hol, the most noted of these being klingonaase, which was invented by novelist John Ford. Most people, though, when they speak of “the Klingon language,” are referring to Marc Okrand’s tlhIngan tlhIngan Hol. Since tlhIngan Hol has not existed throughout the history of Star Trek, however, one will hear spoken words which do not technically come out of that language. Nevertheless, anything that is filmed (and survives to be aired ) in a Star Trek episode or film is considered “canon” Star Trek and must at least be taken under consideration by the speakers of tlhIngan Hol. (In addition, anything which Marc Okrand says, since he is the creator of the language and considered to be its “final authority,” is considered “canon” tlhIngan Hol. ) Although this sounds like a good way to keep the language growing, it in fact becomes a major problem: if an actor mangles his lines (or, worse yet, just shouts out sounds without ever attempting to learn what those sounds might mean in the language), the speakers of tlhIngan Hol will at least try to “fit” the nonsense into the language. Indeed, this is what Okrand himself did when he first wrote The Klingon Dictionary; he speaks in some detail about the multitude of different dialects in tlhIngan tlhIngan Hol, and tells us that the “official” dialect changes every time a new Emperor comes into power. This was the easiest or most appropriate way to explain the different sounds that would get subtitled as the same word or phrase. Thus, each time a new episode of any Star Trek airs which has Klingons in it, tlhIngan Hol speakers carefully videotape it and comb it for bits of the language. Often, as happened in the 2-hour Deep Space Nine production “The Way of the Warrior,” most of the “Klingon” being spoken doesn’t make much sense, and tlhIngan Hol speakers debate for days or weeks afterward what was said and how or whether to incorporate these new words into the existing language. In terms of the speaker population today, there is only one tlhIngan Hol rather than several dialects-- or at least they’re trying to keep it that way. The most active group of speakers is composed of those people who use the language on a regular basis to converse over the Internet. As a result of becoming a “living” language to these people, Klingon began to grow a few years ago: new vocabulary was being added, new grammatical constructions were being used. However, the speakers on the Internet realized that if they were to continue to allow the language to change unchecked, new speakers, who only had the paper copy of TKD to work with, would not be able to understand this new “dialect” of Klingon which was developing, and would therefore be either forced to learn the new dialect or go elsewhere in search of speakers of the language. Therefore, a conscious decision was made to restrict the growth of the language; speakers must work with what they have been given in Okrand’s TKD, “Conversational Klingon,” “Power Klingon,” other Okrandian publications as they appear, and occasional “decrees.” Roughly once per year, the Klingon Language Institute presents a “wish-list” to Okrand, in which they ask him to address the grammatical questions that no one has been able to answer, and petition for new vocabulary items (usually with an English gloss ). Okrand’s answers are then disseminated to the KLI membership, who add them to their copies of the Dictionary. In this way, the language may still grow, but like any language which has an Academy to oversee it, it does not grow uncontrolled. Speakers are encouraged to use paraphrastic constructions and other descriptive devices rather that creating new words, and grammatical usage is corrected (on the Internet, at least) by a small group of advanced speakers known as “Grammarians.” These corrections are always performed politely (according to American politeness standards, not Klingon ones), with the intention being that everyone should learn from the corrections and avoid confusion due to individual innovation in the syntax and vocabulary. It is also common practice to debate these corrections, sometimes for days or even weeks, so that everyone may thoroughly understand the reasoning behind the decisions. When a speaker is totally at a loss for a way to express something, s/he is encouraged to simply use the English term (or word from another language) within the Klingon sentence, preceding it with an asterisk to draw attention to the fact that it is not a Klingon term. “Unofficial” Klingon terms -- ones which have been used repeatedly and consistently within the Star Trek television series, but do not actually appear in TKD, are marked with a tilde rather than with an asterisk. Two Universes One very important fact that must be kept in mind when studying Klingon in almost any way is that there are, so to speak, two “universes” or “realities” in which this language exists. One is the “mundane,” or “real,” world where linguists study both naturally-occurring and artificially-constructed languages, and where Klingon is simply an artificial language created less than two decades ago. The other reality is that of the Star Trek universe; here, through suspension of disbelief, Klingons exist and have a culture to study as well as a language. When one reads Okrand’s Klingon Dictionary, one must suspend disbelief from the very moment the Introduction begins, for it is written from the point of view of a sociolinguist working with a native informant. When one chooses to look at Klingon from a historiolinguistic point of view (as, for example, Allan Wechsler does in his 1992 article, “First Steps Toward a Phonological Theory of Klingon,” or Bernard Comrie in his 1995 article, “The Paleo-Klingon Numeral System”) one has already made the choice to look at it as if it is a language that has existed, within a culture, for centuries or millennia, not merely in a science-fiction book for two or three decades. This choice may apply also to questions of vocabulary (“Why doesn’t Klingon have any pleasantries?”), semantics ( “How are metaphors constructed?”), and morphology (“Why would Klingon have a morpheme indicating ‘honor’?”), just to name a few. As Walter Meyers, in his 1980 work “Aliens and Linguists,” so aptly phrased it, The best writers of science fiction take special pains to provide us with these new perspectives. It is only in bad science fiction that the alien being acts like a costumed human, differing from the familiar only in appearance. In the hands of the masters of the genre we are constantly reminded through the use of new terms, new metaphors, and the very turns of phrase that our accustomed ways of thinking are not the only ones. Gaining these “new perspectives” is exactly the reason we study foreign languages, other cultures, and even the history of our own language -- to teach us new ways of thinking and understanding the world. For speakers of Klingon, this is a way of looking anew at their own world through the eyes of an alien -- and, perhaps, a way of discovering how to better that world. With that in mind, it’s time to move forward into more detailed description and analysis of this remarkable language. KLINGON SEMANTICS Governing Metaphor in Klingon Following Lakoff and Johnson in their 1980 work, Metaphors We Live By, I propose that the main metaphor in Klingon is Life is War, and that a supporting metaphor is Honor is Life. To that end, I will be looking at all available sources of Marc Okrand’s tlhIngan Hol, including a number of television programs in which it has been portrayed. According to Okrand in his 1992 audio work, Conversational Klingon, there are four main ideals governing Klingon behavior: Accuracy, Straightforwardness, Aggressiveness, and Strength; these four ideals are manifested in the language and the way it is spoken. These same four ideals can be seen as necessary components to the Life is War metaphor: in war one would definitely want to be aggressive and strong, would desire accuracy in order to optimize chances of winning, and could prefer being straightforward (rather than “sneaky”) as a corollary to being aggressive. Due to a shortage of applicable works in the language itself, I am also drawing from lines spoken by Klingon speakers in English, on the assumption that they carry over the Klingon metaphor structure into English (and sometimes on the assumption that the lines are actually being spoken in Klingon, and that we are merely hearing them through the aid of a translator). I prefer to keep these quotes to a minimum, concentrating on the language itself whenever possible; however, since these same English works are all used as information sources by students of the Klingon language, I consider them to be valid sources of data for this project. I’ll begin with some relevant syntactic and morphological data. Doubt, hesitancy, and accuracy are all grammaticalized in Klingon. Type 3 Noun suffixes indicate “the speaker’s attitude toward the noun, or how sure the speaker is that the noun is being used appropriately :” as detailed in my earlier paper on Klingon Verbal Morphology, these suffixes gloss as “so-called,” “apparent,” and “definite.” Similarly, the Type 6 Verb suffixes gloss as “clearly, perfectly,” “certainly, undoubtedly,” “seemingly, apparently,” and “obviously.” With this selection of noun and verb suffixes, the speaker can indicate essentially any necessary level of truth or falsehood, doubt or assurance. Examples: Verb-Adjectives : bIyajchu’ You clearly understand. / You understand clearly. bIyajbej You undoubtedly understand. bIyajlaw’ You appear to understand / You apparently understand. bIyajba’ You obviously understand. And nouns: rojqoq so-called peace rojHey apparent peace rojna’ definite peace In addition, the concept of honor is also grammaticalized in the Klingon language, indicating that speakers have traditionally placed a high value on this concept. The Type 8 verbal suffix -neS can be appended to any verb to show overt respect to the person being addressed. For example, at the end of the recent KLI publication jatmey , there is a dedication of the volume to Marc Okrand; it ends with the sentence qatlho’neS (I-you thank honor), indicating that the writer is placing Okrand in a position of esteem. This usage of -neS is sometimes glossed as “your Honor,” as in “Thank you, your Honor,” but I dislike this translation because it sounds too much like the American form of address for a judge. Instead, although it may sound rather stilted, I prefer to gloss uses like this one as “Thank you, honored one,” or, “I thank you with honor;” the latter gloss highlights the fact that “honor” is an element of the verb phrase rather than a noun phrase. Examples of other uses for -neS follow: qaqIHneS I-you meet (for first time) honor I am honored to meet you. HIja’neS you-me (imperative) tell honor Do me the honor of telling me. The usage of the honor suffix in Klingon could be compared in a limited way to the Japanese honorific noun prefixes o- and go-, in that they allow the speaker to show honor to the listener; however, these prefixes can also indicate honor accorded to the subject/object of the sentence instead of or in addition to the listener. However, in Japanese there are a few words with which it is almost mandatory to use an honorific, regardless of the status of speaker and listener; examples of this are o-cha (tea) and go- han (rice). Another area in which the Klingon honorific suffix may be more accurately compared to Japanese is in the Japanese “polite” verbal suffix -masu. This suffix may have other phonological forms depending on the form of the verb it is attached to, but it has no lexical meaning it all; its sole function appears to be to make the sentence more polite. In this sense it is very much like the Klingon suffix -neS; however, I see one major difference between the Japanese and Klingon honorific systems: all the honorifics in Japanese get a great deal of use, in contrast to the honorific in Klingon, which is never mandatory and is therefore infrequently used. Pragmatically, I believe that the Klingon honorific carries much more force than the Japanese honorifics do, simply because it is infrequently used and never mandatory; the level of force it carries is probably roughly comparable to the force involved if a “mandatory” Japanese honorific is dropped, although of course then we are dealing with opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of listener reaction. Now that we’ve dealt with how Klingon physically structures important concepts, we can move on to looking at how Klingons organize their world in terms of cultural norms, which in turn will allow me to demonstrate that Life is War and Honor is Life are valid metaphors for Klingon language and thought. In the Next Generation episode “Firstborn,” we see (as we frequently do in references to Klingon society) that story and song are important ways of transmitting cultural information. Worf and his son Alexander visit a Klingon colony because Worf wants to encourage Alexander to explore the Klingon part of his heritage. (Alexander is 1/4 Human and has been raised from birth among Humans rather than among Klingons). They witness and participate in a musical re-enactment of the mythical story of Kahless, Worf, knowing what is expected of him, participates properly, but Alexander, not knowing the cultural norms involved, does not, and Worf has to hide his disappointment, instead praising Alexander for his participation. Soon after, they are joined by another Klingon, K’mtar, who is a trusted retainer in Worf’s House and who has come to check up on Alexander’s education, since Alexander will probably one day become the head of the House. In a meeting with Riker, Worf’s superior officer, K’mtar tells Riker that an incident which Riker is questioning him about is none of his concern, because it is a Klingon family matter. Afterwards, in private, Worf accuses K’mtar of being rude to Riker; K’mtar responds that he meant no disrespect, and wonders aloud whether Worf remembers that Klingons and Humans behave differently, and whether he has made Alexander aware of that fact. K’mtar was simply being direct in his discussion with Riker, a virtue by Klingon standards; if he had wished to be disrespectful he would have overtly stated that. Having established that Alexander’s education in Klingon culture is not progressing satisfactorily, K’mtar begins to aid Worf in bringing the boy up to standards. The Klingon education that we witness in this episode (and others) consists of training in fighting skills and history/philosophy; fighting is, as may be expected, taught as full-contact hand-to-hand combat, and history and philosophy are transmitted through story and song. Alexander attempts to learn fighting skills, but balks at killing, even when the target is merely an illusion. When K’mtar recounts a story to him, Alexander interrupts in the middle with, “Yeah, I’ve heard this story.” K’mtar replies, “It is important to tell these stories, even though we already know them.” He attempts to continue the story, but Alexander questions the actions of the protagonist, Kahless; K’mtar tries to get him to listen with, “You’re missing the point; no more questions. These are our stories. It is important for a warrior to learn how to interpret them properly.” When Alexander protests that he is trying to (i.e., by asking questions), K’mtar retorts, “No. Your head is filled with foolish Human notions about how things are. You are Klingon. It is time you began to act like one.” After more arguing, Alexander gets angry and leaves. K’mtar attempts to get Worf to send Alexander to the Klingon Homeworld to school, where he will be immersed in Klingon culture; Worf refuses, and K’mtar threatens to have Worf declared an unfit parent. K’mtar admits that Worf is a good parent, but that Alexander’s future should still be of paramount importance, and if dishonoring Worf by having him declared unfit is necessary to ensure Alexander’s future, then that is what will be done. We see here that personal honor can be relegated to a lower position than family honor, as when a single person must be forced to do something against his wishes for the good of the House. Near the end of the episode, we see K’mtar preparing to kill the sleeping Alexander; Worf stops him just in time and is about to kill K’mtar when K’mtar tells him, “Father, I am your son. I am Alexander.” After testing the veracity of his claim, Worf learns that this is indeed Alexander, returned from 40 years in the future to attempt to change the past and the child that he was. In the future, Alexander never became a Warrior, but chose the path of a peacemaker instead. When he did eventually ascend to be Head of the House, he announced publicly that his House would no longer participate in feuding and would be the first to declare peace; this so upset the rest of the Houses that Alexander and Worf were overrun, and Worf was killed. It seems that Life is War is so ingrained in the Klingon mindset that the “threat” of peace resulted in even more war. Alexander perceives himself as being the cause of the “threat” to his people, and thus the cause of Worf’s death, therefore he has come back to try to force his earlier self to either become a Warrior, or to kill himself so that he will not be responsible (in his own eyes) for Worf’s death. Worf states that he cannot die with honor if Alexander does not remain true to himself and follow the path that is right for him, rather than the path dictated for him by others. He also tells him that “The cause of peace is a just cause. The struggle must continue.” Here, Worf shows that even peace can be viewed as a form of war: a struggle or battle, being fought for a cause; in this way, even peace can be integrated into the Life is War metaphor. In the Next Generation episode “Rightful Heir,” Kahless -- the major Klingon mytho-historical religious figure -- returns from the dead to lead his people after roughly 1500 years. Kahless was a Warrior (not a savior in the Christian sense) who first set down the Laws of Honor for the Klingon people, and who promised to return and lead them again some day. Kahless also taught that there are lives beyond this one, where honored and dishonored dead go; the honored dead go to Stovokor, while the dishonored are cast into the Netherworld. In the centuries that have passed, tradition has taught that a Warrior’s mind must be unclouded by doubt or hesitation in order to understand what Kahless wants of him; although we don’t know when it occurred in the language, we have already seen that doubt, hesitancy, and honor have all become grammaticalized, which indicates that they are indeed extremely important concepts in the language. When asked why he has chosen to return now, after all these centuries, Kahless tells his followers, “I have returned because my people need me. They fight among themselves in petty wars and corrupt the glory of the Klingon spirit. They have lost their way.” This indicates that fighting should not be done merely for the sake of fighting; even though Life is War, war must have a just cause or it is merely “petty.” Kahless seems to be saying that the Klingons are on the verge of overextending their metaphor, to the point that it is losing its meaning. At one point, when Kahless is lecturing his followers, he notes that Worf appears less enraptured than the others and calls him on it, asking why Worf still questions him. Worf replies, “Questions are the beginning of wisdom -- the mark of a true Warrior.” Kahless replies, however, “A leader need not answer questions of those he leads; it is enough that he says to do a thing... if he says to die, they die.” Worf responds with, “IF he is worthy of their trust.” The two men fight at this point, because Worf has insinuated that Kahless may not be worthy of trust; in the middle of the battle, though, Kahless stops, laughs, and cries to the crowd at large, “What is wrong? Is there only anger and bloodlust in your souls? Is that all that is left of the Klingon heart? We do not fight merely to spill blood, but to enrich the spirit. Look at us -- two Warriors locked in battle fighting for honor! How can you not sing for all to hear, ‘We are Klingon!’” He laughs again, and leads rest in chanting the line. In this scene both Worf and Kahless bring out that being a Warrior is not merely being a killer; fighting must be done for a good reason, implying that it requires careful thought, or it is worse than worthless. In the 2-hour-long Deep Space Nine episode “Way of the Warrior,” we see a number of instances of Klingon commentary on honor and war, as well as witnessing Klingon pragmatics. Near the beginning of the episode, General Martok, of the Klingon Empire, and Captain Sisko, of the Federation, speak to each other. There are a number of exchanges between the two during the episode; all are good examples of two people with differing communicative norms attempting to communicate. In general, the exchanges proceed well because both men know what the other’s communicative norms are, and they seem to find a common ground from which they can speak. Martok: Captain Sisko. I bring you greetings from your allies in the Klingon Empire. Sisko: Welcome to Deep Space Nine, General. Is there something I can do for you. [Falling intonation on question.] Martok: It has been a long journey. My men require shore leave. Sisko: Certainly. They can come aboard any time they like. Martok: Good. [Aside:] So’wI’ ta’. [Pause of a second; viewscreen blanks, then a large number of ships decloak outside the station.] In this short scene, both parties begin by at least marginally using “Human” communicative norms: Martok brings greetings to Sisko, something that a Human would expect but which a Klingon would dispense with. Sisko responds with a welcome, then switches to Klingon standards by going straight to the point and asking what Martok wants. Martok then remains in “Klingon mode” and states his business: his men want shore leave. Sisko grants it, Martok uses the minimal necessary acknowledgement, then terminates the transmission. In the very short next scene, we get to hear commentary on how other races view Klingons. The scene takes place in Quark’s, the local bar and gambling establishment; normally it is a relatively noisy place, with people drinking and gaming. At this time there are Klingon soldiers everywhere; Quark, the proprietor, comments to a small group of Federation officers, “Do you hear that?” When they reply that they don’t hear anything, Quark goes on to explain that that’s what he means: the ambient noise level in the room is less than 30 decibels, whereas it is normally 65; on a day when he has Klingons for customers the noise level normally hits 85 decibels. He is disturbed because, as he puts it, “Have you ever met a quiet Klingon before?” In the next relevant scene we view another exchange between Sisko and Martok, this time in Sisko’s briefing room with Kira, Sisko’s second-in-command, present. Sisko: So. What brings you here, General? Martok: A valid question. But first, let us be sure we are all who we say we are. [Martok draws his ceremonial daggar, draws blood from his own hand, and allows it to drip onto the conference table.] Kira: You think we’re Changelings? Martok: What I think doesn’t matter. The blood will tell. [Hands cleaned blade to Sisko, handle first; Sisko draws blood, lets it drip, wipes blade and hands it to Kira, who repeats the act.] Martok: Hmmm.... Sisko: Now that that’s over.. Martok: We have been sent here to fight alongside our Federation allies... against the Dominion. Sisko: I appreciate the gesture but I’m not sure it’s necessary. Martok: The Klingon High Council thinks it is. Sisko: Our communications relay in the Gamma Quadrant hasn’t detected any signs of Jem’Hadar activity in quite some time. They seem to be giving the wormhole a wide berth. Martok: They will come. And when they do, we will be ready for them. [Sisko and Kira look at each other; scene ends.] Here, a number of interesting things are going on. Martok is direct in his demand that the Federation officers submit to a blood “test,” yet he is still polite, at least by Klingon standards, in that he cleans his blade and offers it handle first to Sisko. He also makes it clear that he does not intend the “test” to be an insult, but merely a precautionary measure meant for the Federation people’s benefit as well as his own. Once he announces the nature of his business with them, he merely assumes that they will welcome the Klingon presence and shrugs off Sisko’s comment that it is unnecessary. This reaction is echoed in the next scene, where the differences in worldview between the Federation and the Klingons become even more apparent. We see even more of the differences in worldview, and the differences in assumptions that result from those, in the following long scene. Captain Sisko has taken the Defiant, the starship based at DS9, out to assist a freighter which has reported that it is being attacked; he discovers that the attacker is a Klingon warship, the M’Char, commanded by Kaybok. When Sisko asks Kaybok what he thinks he’s doing, Kaybok replies that he intends to search the ship and its crew for Changelings; when Sisko and Kira remind him that he is violating interstellar law by searching a vessel without evidence, he protests that he can have no evidence if he does not search the ship. When Sisko threatens to open fire on him if he doesn’t back down, Kaybok becomes angry because he says that the Klingons are trying to do their allies a favor and feel that they are being mistreated in return. Eventually Kaybok backs down, but only after telling Sisko that he will tell Gowron (the leader of the Klingon High Council) what has happened. In the next relevant scene, Martok comes to see Sisko, who is talking with Dax. Sisko: Ah, General. We need to talk. Martok: [slams ceremonial daggar down on table] SoHvaD. [Leaves.] Dax: [picks up daggar and looks carefully at it.] It’s Commander Kaybok’s. Sisko: Why did he give it to me? Dax: He’s letting you know that Kaybok’s dead. Martok probably had him executed for disobeying orders. Sisko: Which means our next confrontation with the Klingons won’t be resolved so easily. Any suggestions, old man? Dax: The longer the Klingons are here, the worse things are going to get. Whatever you decide to do, you’d better do it soon. Sisko: Curzon told me once, that in the long run, the only people who can handle the Klingons, are Klingons. Get me Starfleet Command. [Dax exits, scene ends.] In this scene we see how Martok sticks strictly with Klingon communicative norms: all he wants to do is to give Sisko the daggar, and that is all he does. His one word -- SoHvaD -- is merely to let Sisko know that the daggar is intended for him; he uses tlhIngan Hol rather than Federation Standard (English) to underline the fact that he is operating strictly within Klingon culture and expects Sisko to understand that. Martok is operating well within the Honor is Life metaphor at this point: Kaybok has lost his honor by backing down in front of Sisko, and Martok has taken his life because of it. Sisko, however, must rely on Dax’s greater knowledge of Klingon culture and language to help him out in deciphering the situation; this is also when Sisko decides that he needs more help in resolving the situation, and calls Starfleet Command for reinforcements. In the next scene we see Worf coming aboard DS9; he reports to Sisko. After Worf mentions that he is considering resigning his Starfleet commission and Sisko asks him to explain, Worf talks about the difficulties involved in being a Klingon raised by Humans and choosing to live and work among Humans. Since he has lost the only “family” he has really been able to develop -- the crew of the Enterprise -- he no longer feels that he belongs in the Federation. Yet he knows that he is not totally Klingon, either, so he is debating signing onto a ship owned by a neutral starsystem. Sisko encourages him not to make any hasty decisions, and asks if he wants to accept the assignment to DS9; Worf states, “Until I make my decision, I intend to do my duty.” After Sisko tells him that he has questions about why the Klingons are acting as they are, Worf simply states, “I will find you answers,” and exits, turning straight to the task at hand. We see here that Worf, despite his nature as a person caught between cultures, still attempts to uphold the Klingon ideals of honor and straightforwardness: he refuses to back out of an assignment when he is given that option, but instead jumps right into it. In the next scene we see Worf enter Quark’s; he approaches the bar itself. Quark: Let me guess: Klingon bloodwine. Worf: Prune juice. Chilled. Quark: [laughing] Prune juice? [Sees the stern expression on Worf’s face, stutters:] I-I-If you say so. [Leaves to fill drink order.] [O’Brien, another crew member on DS9 who used to serve on the Enterprise with Worf, calls him over and introduces him to Julian Bashir, who invites Worf to play darts.] Worf: I do not play games. [This is not strictly true; Worf used to play poker with his shipmates on the Enterprise.] O’Brien: It’s like poker, but with pointed tips. [Continues talking about darts, finally convincing Worf to play by telling him to think of it as target practice. Worf half-heartedly throws a dart at the board, narrowly missing the center of the target and driving the dart through the board. Dax and Kira enter, dressed in Camelot costumes and arguing because Kira had knocked out Lancelot when he kissed her; Julian interrupts them to introduce them to Worf.] Worf: [at a loss for words, to Kira] Nice hat. Kira: [embarrassed] I don’t normally dress like this. Worf: [to Dax] You used to be Curzon Dax. Dax: [curtsies; she’s not embarrassed, just enjoying herself] That’s right, and I don’t normally dress like this either. Worf: Curzon’s name is an honored one among my people. Dax: luH, ’a’ jIH chIm ta’ la’. Worf: [looks around at others, drops his gaze with an embarrassed look] I suppose so. [Dax grins, then other Klingons in the bar start a disturbance and Worf excuses himself to check it out.] Kira: [to Dax] What did you say to him? Dax: It loses something in the translation. [Perspective shift to Worf and other Klingons in the bar; Worf approaches the Klingon who is causing the disturbance.] Worf: You are Drex, son of Martok. Drex: That’s right. Worf: I am Worf, son of Mogh. [Worf backhands Drex; a very short fight ensues, in which Worf emerges victorious and holding Drex’s ceremonial daggar.] [Switch back to Dax and other officers, watching.] Dax: [admiringly] He’s good. O’Brien: What did I tell you? [End of scene.] In this scene, there are a number of different interesting things going on. We begin to see even more how Worf sometimes differs from the Klingon norm (such as when he orders prune juice when Quark expects him to order bloodwine) and how he also attempts to operate within Klingon norms (for example, when he ritually announces names of combatants and fathers before beginning a fight). In the middle, we see how he has trouble interacting with members of his own crew, even one he has known a long time (O’Brien); we see his embarrassment when he has to deal with his superior officers in an informal rather than formal setting. This unease can be attributed, albeit indirectly, to the Klingon governing metaphors; Klingon society, based as it is on war, has a military structure which is more strict than that of Starfleet. Worf feels more comfortable when he is in a more structured environment, and finds himself without set “rituals” to engage in when it comes to interacting with his non-Klingon crewmates. They are too fragile to butt heads with, and it is against Starfleet’s code of conduct for them to become rowdy when they are off duty; this contrasts with the Klingon idea of “relaxing” which is to drink large quantities of alcohol, sing, fight, butt heads, and tell stories, all at high volume. Non-Klingon ideas of relaxing, such as playing darts or indulging in role- playing, fall into what a Klingon would classify as “child’s play” and are therefore not worthy of a Warrior’s time. Once again, Worf is a man caught between cultures, one who cannot fully engage in the cultural norms, or the metaphors, of either, although he understands both. In the following scene we see Worf unpacking his belongings: his mek’leth, a picture of Alexander and himself, clothing. The door chimes and Worf says, “Enter.” Martok: I have come for my son’s dak’tag. Give it to me, or I will take it from you. Worf: Now that you are here, I have no further need for it. [Hands the daggar to Martok.] Martok: You robbed my son of his honor, just to get my attention? Worf: You cannot take away what someone does not have. Martok: You are saying my son is without honor. Worf: I am saying your son is a coward and a liar. Martok: And what of his father? Worf: That remains to be seen. Martok: Tell me, what have I done to earn your disrespect? Worf: The misdeeds your troops have committed speak for themselves. Attacking a Cardassian tailor, detaining and searching ships in neutral space without warning or provocation. And you... executing one of your commanders because he refused to fire on a Federation ship. Martok: Whatever we have done is in the best interest of the Alpha Quadrant. Worf: [angrily] You must think me a fool to make your lies so transparent. Martok: [testily] I do not wish to quarrel with you, Worf. Worf: [more calmly] Nor I with you. The House of Martok is an honored one, with a proud tradition. But, I must know why you are here. Martok: I am here under the authority of Gowron himself. I am carrying out his orders. That should be all the explanation a Klingon Warrior needs. Worf: You forget. I am not only a Klingon Warrior. I am a Starfleet officer, and Starfleet deserves an explanation. Martok: They will get one, soon enough. Until then, know this: my mission will determine the fate of the Klingon Empire. Interfere, and you risk destroying us all. [Leaves. Scene ends.] In this scene we note again the use of Klingon communicative norms the moment Martok enters. He states his business in no uncertain terms; his comments and questions are blunt; and when he is finished, he walks out without another word. For the most part, Worf adheres to these norms: he uses the same level of bluntness as Martok does throughout the conversation. However, when Martok attempts to force Worf into accepting only Klingon standards by telling him that “that should be all the explanation a Klingon Warrior needs,” Worf rejects this and reminds him of his dual nature as a man split across two cultures. In the next relevant scene, Worf is working out in the holosuite, performing bladed-weapon combat with holographic opponents. Dax enters, watches him for a moment, then comments, “You shouldn’t drop your left arm like that.” Worf: [continuing to fight] I do not remember asking you for advice. Dax. [calm, friendly] I’m just trying to help. [Worf continues without further comment, defeating his opponent after another moment.] So, how did you like the program? Worf: I found it adequate. Although I was surprised to find a Klingon program on the holosuite. Dax: It’s mine. Worf: You mean Curzon’s. Dax: No, I mean it’s mine. Computer, bat’leth. [2 bat’leth appear nearby.] I thought you might be tired of fighting holograms. Worf: It would not be a fair match. Dax: [Hands him one bat’leth.] I’ll go easy on you. Worf: Very well. Defend yourself. [Attacks Dax.] Dax: [After a moment when she appears to be winning against Worf] I hope you’re not holding back because I’m a woman. If it makes things any easier, think of me as a man. I’ve been one, several times. [Worf eventually wins the match and helps Dax to her feet after knocking her to the ground.] Feel better? I take it your conversation with General Martok didn’t go all that well. Worf: He was not forthcoming. And he is not the only one. I tried to contact Gowron, Emperor Kahless, even my brother who sits on the High Council; no one will speak with me. Dax: Maybe you’re going about this the wrong way. With so many Klingons around, there must be someone who owes your family a favor. [End of scene.] In this scene we get another look at Klingon fighting practices, and at the fact that Klingons, Worf included, like to work out their frustrations in a highly physical manner. Dax realizes this, and goads Worf into “letting himself go” so that she can talk to him afterwards. Worf expresses his disappointment that Martok is not adhering to the Klingon standards for behavior and communication: “He was not forthcoming.” Dax then makes a suggestion that Worf, working from within the Klingon ideals, won’t see on his own: to use a covert approach to obtaining the information he seeks. Worf follows Dax’s advice, as we see in the next scene: [Worf and old Klingon sitting at a table in a private room, drinking and singing. At the end of the song they stand and butt heads, then sit and laugh.] Old Klingon: Your father and I used to sing that song when you were just a small boy. Did I ever tell you how your father saved my family’s honor during our blood feud with the House of Duras? Worf: Many times. Old Klingon: It is a good story! Worf: Yes, and you tell it well. Old Klingon: Your father was a great Warrior. My family owes him everything we have. I wish there was some way I could repay him. Worf: There is. Tell me why the task force is here; the real reason, not the one Martok gave the Federation. Old Klingon: The real reason? I suppose you have a right to know. You are a Klingon Warrior and it would be wrong to keep you away from battle. And it is going to be a glorious battle! [Laughs. Scene ends.] We hear in this scene how one person may save the honor of another family, how a member of that family may carry a ritual debt, and how that ritual debt may be repaid to another generation rather than to the original person to whom it was owed. This upholds the Honor is Life metaphor and its underlying idea that Honor and family are extensions of Life. We also see that it is considered a Warrior’s right to know about and engage in battle; to deny him this opportunity is to wrong him and to deprive him of a necessary facet of Life, since Life is War. An additional, smaller point to be noted when Worf and the Old Klingon are talking is that the Old Klingon mentions the “story” of how Mogh saved his family honor. The Old Klingon is momentarily disappointed when Worf tells him that he has heard the story several times; the Old Klingon rebukes him slightly by reminding Worf that “it is a good story!” and Worf apologizes by telling him that he tells it well. The two Klingons here also engage in a common “play” activity: when they finish singing a song, they stand and butt heads; this same activity has been observed in several previous episodes (both Next Generation and Deep Space Nine) and was mentioned in “Power Klingon” as a popular bar game. Near the end of the episode, during a skirmish with other Klingon ships, Worf states, “In war there is nothing more honorable than victory.” We learn that honor should be placed above position (in government or other organization), land, title (head of family, member of ruling Council, etc.), family; but also that personal honor can determine or affect family honor. During the climax of the episode, we witness a battle between the Klingons and the Federation members stationed on Deep Space Nine; the Klingons choose to leave their ships and transport onto the station, then engage the Federation people in hand-to-hand combat. This is despite the fact that the Klingons could simply stay on their ships and fight long-distance; with their large number of ships, they would eventually have destroyed the immovable space station. The Klingons still prefer one-on-one combat: it is more straightforward, more direct, more aggressive, and requires more strength, therefore it is more honorable than long-distance warfare conducted with energy weapons. Near the end of the episode, after the Klingons and the Federation have fought a skirmish and almost declared war, an uneasy peace is declared with the following quote from Kahless: “Destroying an empire to win a war is no victory; ending a battle to save an empire is no defeat.” The Klingons have come to realize that if war is declared, the Federation will eventually win, therefore it is better to lose a small battle now in order to save their Empire in the long run. However, Worf loses the respect of the rest of the Klingon Empire: Gowron, the leader of the Council, tells him, “You have sided against us in battle, and this we do not forgive... or forget.” Despite the fact that an uneasy truce as been declared, there will be no truce for Worf because he has chosen to fight on the side of the Federation rather than on the side of “his” people. In the Deep Space Nine episode “House of Quark,” we get to see a little more of Klingon culture and how they view the world. Their wedding ceremony is quick, with very few frills: the two involved wear matching robes, each speaks one line, then they kiss. At the end of the ceremony between Quark (who is Ferengi, not Klingon) and the Klingon woman, the woman spits after she has kissed Quark, but we don’t know if this is part of the ceremony or is simply because she doesn’t like him (she’s marrying him out of convenience, not because she really wants him for a mate). The ceremony for divorce (which occurs at the end of the episode) is even quicker: the woman shouts one short phrase and slaps Quark across the room. Both ceremonies are short, efficient, and have very few excess trappings, just as we would expect from a culture that values directness. In the main portion of the episode, we watch as Quark has to try to negotiate Klingon society; being Ferengi, a race with a totally different governing metaphor, he has a hard time adapting to the way things are done by the Klingons. The Ferengi live by the metaphor Life is Acquisition of Profit; they are the ultimate capitalists, a race who have had no form of “war” except business competition for ten thousand years. Their entire reason for living is the acquisition of anything of value; even their government and religion are molded in economic terms. This contrasts strikingly with the Klingons, who consider money as an evil necessity, something to be used but avoided whenever possible, as evidenced by a line spoken by Quark’s new wife: “We are Klingons. We do not dirty ourselves with filthy ledgers.” Klingons consider it dishonorable to use money as a weapon; using money to undermine an opponent is tantamount to spying or attacking behind one’s back: not direct, therefore not honorable. However, Quark convinces his new wife to allow him to check the House records anyway, and discovers that a Warrior who is attempting to take over her House has indeed “doctored” the books in order to throw her House into financial ruin. Quark tries to take the information before the Klingon Council, but before he can bring it to a vote he is challenged to battle by the opposing Warrior, who accuses Quark of dishonoring him by accusing him of using money as a weapon. Quark deliberately insults him by addressing him as, “Son of ....whatever” in a ritual before the ruling Council; this is doubly insulting to both personal and family honor, first because the proper House name was not used, and second because the inanimate “whatever” is used, indicating that the Warrior was not even born of a sentient being. Quark begins the ritual duel, then, knowing that he is no match for the Warrior, simply drops his weapon and kneels. This robs the Warrior of his ability to reclaim his honor in combat, because to kill an unarmed opponent, especially a smaller/weaker one, is dishonorable. Finally, Quark convinces the Council that the Warrior has acted wrongly against his new wife’s House; the Warrior is cast out by the Council, both verbally and non-verbally. The verbal dishonor is bestowed by the leader of the Council when he announces that the Warrior has lost his seat; the rest of the Council then affirms the dishonor by crossing their arms over their chests and turning their backs on him one by one. “To turn one’s back” is not just a metaphor for abandoning someone in Klingon society: it is a living metaphor, one that is acted out and can be visualized easily. I would speculate that this is also tied to the idea that it is dishonorable to attack from the rear; turning one’s back and crossing arms (so that the hands are visible and cannot reach a weapon) could be seen as a challenge to further dishonor oneself by attempting to attack someone from behind. The Deep Space Nine episode “Sons of Mogh” focuses on honor and death in Klingon culture. Klingon culture frowns on true suicide, but if a warrior has lost his honor due to the actions of another, and is unable to regain his honor in any other way, he may demand that the other person kill him as a means to an honorable death. This may be compared to the ancient Japanese ritual of harakiri or seppuku performed by samurai warriors; however, there is a difference. A samurai could perform seppuku, or ritual suicide, as a means to cleansing his honor, but it had to be done properly and with his lord’s permission. If a samurai killed himself without permission, it would stain not only his honor but that of his entire family, and his family could end up paying the price with their lives. This is similar to the Klingon view of true (unassisted) suicide: it is the coward’s way out, and will be repaid with eternity in the Netherworld and no restoration of honor in this world. In this episode, Kurn, Worf’s younger brother, comes to Worf to demand that Worf kill him in order to restore the family honor that Kurn has lost due to Worf’s political affiliations. Early in the story, Kurn mocks Worf’s quarters: “Soft, comfortable quarters... no one would suspect a warrior lives here.” This accords well with Marc Okrand’s description of Klingon attitudes toward physical comfort in “Conversational Klingon;” he states there that Klingons have a “predisposition away from physical comfort,” and I could find no translation for either “comfort” or “uncomfortable” in TKD. Kurn goes on to attack Worf’s apparent regret for what has happened, his apology to Kurn, and his sympathy for what Kurn has had to endure as Human weaknesses. Worf finally agrees to perform the ritual killing of Kurn, and we witness the following: Worf: You have been wronged in this life. There is nothing left here for you: no honor, no future. Kurn: I wish to reclaim my honor in the next life. I am ready to cross the river of blood and enter Stovokor. Worf: May this blade speed you on your journey. [stabs Kurn in the chest] Kurn: Goodbye...Brother. The killing fails because Dax, another Federation officer on the station, witnesses it and has Kurn taken for medical treatment. When he awakes and finds himself still alive, Kurn verbally attacks Worf again for failing to follow through with the ritual as a Warrior should. His life remains in Worf’s hands; he tells Worf, “I have no life. I have no death.” When Dax apologizes to Worf for interfering, he responds, “You were following your conscience; that is an honorable motive.” Dax responds, “Not from a Klingon point of view.” Worf counters, “You are not Klingon.” From this we see that outsiders, even ones like Dax who have chosen a Klingon path and who are respected for it by other Klingons, are still not fully accepted into the culture; the fact that Dax apologizes also indicates that she is not fully a member of the culture, where apologies are rarely used because they are seen as a sign of weakness as well as error. In this scene, though, we also see that Worf can “break the frame” and look at his culture with the eyes of an outsider: he can understand why Dax did what she did, and use her cultural norms to respond to her apology. Worf must find another life for Kurn since he failed at killing him; he convinces the station’s chief of security, Odo, to consider taking him on as a deputy. Odo balks at first, wondering if a Klingon Warrior would make a good security officer; he isn’t necessarily thrilled when Worf admits that, “Non-lethal skills are not valued in the Empire.” However, Odo relents and accepts Kurn. After Kurn becomes a security deputy, at one point he tells Worf, “I hate this uniform.” Worf tries to talk to him about the transition from being a member of the Klingon Defense Force to being a Bajoran security officer being a difficult one; Kurn’s response is that he has made the transition, but that the uniform is merely uncomfortable. This should be a tipoff to Worf that something is wrong: Kurn, who recently had been condemning Worf for allowing himself comfort, is now complaining about discomfort, and about something as petty as uncomfortable clothing at that. Soon after, Kurn allows himself to be shot when he could have defended himself; he survives, but loses his job. When Worf tries to talk to him again, he says, “I don’t want to talk anymore. It’s not Klingon. You’re the elder brother: you tell me what to do and I’ll do it. My life is in your hands.” Worf asks Kurn to join him in an espionage raid on a Klingon cruiser because he believes that the Klingons are creating a mine field just outside Bajoran space. Kurn responds angrily, “You want me to turn against my own people? Will my dishonor never end?” Worf replies, “It is their actions that are dishonorable. Secretly mining star systems is not the act of Warriors. They behave like Romulan cowards... Our people have turned their backs on us, but we will not turn our backs on them.” Note here that the Romulans are known for their desire for secrecy; the Klingons view this with distrust and loathing because it goes against their desire for straightforwardness. Note also Worf’s use of the “turning backs” metaphor in his attempt to convince Kurn to help him; it is a powerful visual metaphor for all Klingons, and apparently helps to convince Kurn. Eventually Kurn agrees, and the two successfully perform the spy mission, but afterwards the two are still left with their initial problem: how to heal Kurn’s honor. Worf tries to lecture Kurn on suicide: “If you die by your own hand you will not travel across the river of blood.” Kurn, despondent, replies, “Even if I am cast down into the Netherworld, at least I will be with other Klingons, even though they’re the dishonored dead...” Kurn also comments, though, “My one regret is that we were not raised together. The sons of Mogh should never have been separated... A Warrior should look to the future. You should not be burdened with my dishonor.” Worf replies, “You are not a burden.” Kurn, slowly seeing that Worf has a slightly different vision of honor than other Klingons, finally admits, “In your own way, you are an honorable man.” Worf, having finally discovered a way to restore his brother’s honor while maintaining his oath as a Starfleet officer, drugs Kurn into unconsciousness and has his face and memory restructured to that of another man. While Kurn is still asleep, Worf tells the unconscious figure, “ And you will be an honorable man again... but not as my brother.” Another Klingon who owes Worf a personal favor takes Kurn away, telling him that he is his son; this leaves Worf with no more family, but a solution to the situation that all can live with. In “Sons of Mogh” I was particularly struck by the line in the death ritual, “no honor, no future.” This was a theme that was repeated throughout the episode, and plays right into my theory that Honor is Life is a strong secondary metaphor for Klingon. We see here, and as I have also observed in numerous other situations not detailed here, that honor does not end with a single person’s life; personal honor can affect family honor, sometimes for generations to come. In addition, we see that maintaining one’s honor is a constant struggle, and like a battle, it is sometimes lost. Also in the death ritual, we get the visual metaphor of crossing a river of blood in order to enter the next life. This is very definitely an image one would expect from war, especially in a culture which still prizes hand-to-hand fighting skills. In the previous pages I have attempted to demonstrate the Klingon worldview and pragmatic style which leads to their governing metaphors, Life is War and Honor is Life. In the following section I will cover a “dialect” of the language, known as “Clipped Klingon,” which I believe aids in reinforcing the main Life is War metaphor. Clipped Klingon There is another form of tlhIngan Hol which I have so far not addressed, but which also demonstrates the ideals of Klingon behavior, known as “Clipped Klingon.” This form of the language is characterized by brevity, every syllable or morpheme which isn’t absolutely necessary is dropped, resulting in a very telegraphic or “clipped” style, but one which has more power and immediacy. Most information which is dropped phonetically is already being carried by context; as might be expected, this form of the language is used most often in battle situations, where time is of the essence. For example, imperative prefixes will be clipped from their verbs: Standard Klingon: yIngu’ you-him/her/it (imperative) identify You, identify him/her/it! Clipped Klingon: ngu’ identify Identify! With no context, there would be no way to tell what the speaker intended by the use of an apparently bare verb form, but in the context of, say, a battle in which an unidentified ship has suddenly appeared, the bare verb gets the point across and saves precious seconds. This becomes even more apparent (and useful) when longer sentences are involved; in many cases regular (non-imperative) prefixes may be clipped, as well as full pronouns and suffixes (such as -lu’ (“indefinite subject”), -Daq (locative), etc.). It seems that in Clipped Klingon, Grice’s Maxims of Quantity (“Be informative; don’t give more information than is required,”) and Manner (“Be succinct; be orderly,”) are invoked to the fullest extent: anything unnecessary is left unsaid. However, this can, in theory, lead to a tug-of-war of sorts between the two ideals of Accuracy and Brevity: in what situations should one minimize the amount of information one offers, and in which situations should one concentrate more on accuracy? When time is of the essence, I would expect to hear Clipped Klingon used over the standard form of the language. This would include battle conditions, first and foremost; since war has been a major facet of society for the Klingons for generations, battle conditions could constitute a large amount of time. It could also include times when the speakers are concerned about being overheard and easily understood (for example, when the speakers are planning an attack and fear spies). Since it is a “battle language,” and since Warriors are highly respected within Klingon society, Clipped Klingon may also be spoken as a matter of prestige; in this case it may be viewed as a dialect which is being spoken for its status rather than for its communicative values. When speakers are more concerned with accuracy, such as during a business transaction, they will use the standard form of the language, as well as at any time that they want to be clearly understood (and leave nothing to chance). Conclusions In this paper, and in the additional research I have conducted in the past year and a half, I have discovered that the artificial language tlhIngan Hol is a rich source of linguistic data, one which forces students to think in ways that are alien to them and thereby stretches their perspectives. It provides challenges in all areas of linguistic inquiry: Why is its phonemic inventory so diverse? How did so many lexical items become incorporated into the grammar and morphological structure? What are other important metaphors besides Life is War and Honor is Life? How does humor work in Klingon? Does tlhIngan Hol conform to the theories of Universal Grammar? And what will happen when someone is brought up speaking tlhIngan Hol from birth? All these questions, and more, await the researcher who chooses to look at this remarkable language with an open mind. I hope the search continues. Afterword: Current Status of the Language There are many other areas in which research may be done in this language: a large number of syntactic questions are constantly under debate; Klingon wordplay and humor are different from English forms and would be fascinating to address; more “civilized” rituals exist (such as opera, poetry, and tea ceremony) which could be analyzed in more detail. In addition, new material in and on the language will soon be released: Okrand’s new book, a collection of Klingon proverbs (in tlhIngan Hol with English glosses) was released just as I was finishing this paper (so I have not yet obtained a copy to review); an interactive Klingon CD-ROM (which the KLI and Okrand helped produce so that the language included would be accurate) is due out at any time; and the KLI translation of “Hamlet” became available for purchase just before I finished this paper. Thanks to all of the people who use this language on a daily basis, we in the academic community have new material with which to do research, and we should not let it go to waste. Those people who use this language and help it to grow are a diverse group; not merely Trek fans, and not merely Americans. Over the last couple of years, with the growing accessibility of the Internet, new speakers from all over the world have joined the Klingon community; this brings in many new perspectives on language, as many of these new members speak English only as a second (or third) language. Participants in the KLI’s listserv are frequently treated to commentary in German, Dutch, Esperanto, Hebrew, Spanish, Italian, French, Chinese, Japanese, Hungarian, Russian, and other languages as they attempt to wrestle with the idiosyncracies of Klingon and its relationship to various natural languages. This stretches the horizons of everyone involved and usually results in new understandings not only of Klingon, but of other languages and cultures as well. A noteworthy “experiment” which has been going on for the past 21 months or so, and which is still continuing, is the education of children in the Klingon language. So far, I know of two Klingon speakers who are raising their children to be bilingual in Klingon and English; one father (who is one of the top speakers of Klingon) has been gracious enough to keep me advised of his son’s progress. At the age of 19 months, “William” (as I will call him here) understood roughly 30 Klingon phrases ranging from “come here” to “do you want to eat?” to “don’t cry!” He also understood a range of Klingon words such as the numbers one through three, “yes,” “no,” “don’t,” words for various body parts (eye, nose, forehead, cheek, hand), and other items important to his world (bottle, Elmo {a favorite toy}). A number of words were understood both in isolation and in context (such as “bottle” in “drink from your bottle”); this was made clear when William’s father used the word for “bottle” for the first time in isolation one day, then asked the next day “Where is your bottle?” and received an appropriate response from William. William is definitely acquiring both the Klingon and English phonetic systems; his father reports that, although he is still a little young to be speaking clearly, he uses the Klingon word “Qo’!” (“don’t!”) and pronounces it better than many adults who have tried to learn Klingon. He also reports that William will often “babble” in multi-second utterances to his parents, apparently imitating the communicative act without actually putting meaningful words together; when he does this he will include phonemes from both languages, such as [f] from English and [tlh] and [H] from Klingon. As of the time of this writing it is still too early to deduce anything about his acquisition of syntax or morphology in either language, as he is not yet truly speaking. His father has noted, however, that William does not yet discriminate between singular and plural or between different possessives (such as “my” and “your”) in phrases which are spoken to him and which he otherwise appears to understand. For example, his response is the same to “Where is my hand?” and “Where is your hand?” and “Where are your hands?” However, he seems to be acquiring both English and Klingon at about the same rate, and to be able to react to either language appropriately. My most recent update on William (mid-March, 1996) said that (in February) he was singing in Klingon, but that he was currently out of town with other family for an extended period, so no really new data was available. I look forward to keeping up with his progress, and that of the other “native speakers” of this remarkable language, to see what a new world view will do for them. Works Cited Comrie, Bernard. “The Paleo-Klingon Numeral System.” HolQeD 4.4 (1995): 6-10. “Ethics.” Star Trek: The Next Generation. Paramount Pictures. 1992. “Firstborn.” Star Trek: The Next Generation. Paramount Pictures. 1993. Grice, H.P. Logic and Conversation. Syntax and Semantics: Volume 3, Speech Acts. Ed. P. Cole and J.L. Morgan. New York: Academic Press, 1975. “House of Quark.” Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Paramount Pictures. 1995. Levine, Barry and Marc Okrand. Power Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993. “Loud as a Whisper.” Star Trek: The Next Generation. Paramount Pictures. 1988. Meyers, Walter E. Aliens and Linguists: Language Study and Science Fiction. Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 1980. Okrand, Marc. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1985. ---. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1992. (Indicated in references as "TKD2.") ---. Conversational Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992. ("CK"). ---. “More from Maltz.” HolQeD 4.4 (1995): 11-12. “Rightful Heir.” Star Trek: The Next Generation. Paramount Pictures. 1993. Schoen, Lawrence M. "Some Comments on Orthography." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 18-20. ---. “Interview: Mark Lenard, The First Klingon Speaker.” HolQeD 4.3 (1995), 10-12. ---. “Okrand’s Jokes.” HolQeD 1.2 (1992), 6-9. ---, Randall Franklin, and d’Armond Speers, eds. jatmey 1 (1995). Flourtown, PA: Klingon Language Institute. “Sins of the Father.” Star Trek: The Next Generation. Paramount Pictures. 1990. “Sons of Mogh.” Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Paramount Pictures. 1996. “Way of the Warrior.” Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Paramount Pictures. 1995. Wechsler, Allan C. “First Steps Toward a Phonological Theory of Klingon.” HolQeD 1.1 (1992), 3-10. Additional Works Consulted "Great Affix Contest, The." HolQeD 1:3 (1992): 3. "Interview: Okrand on -ghach." HolQeD 3.3 (1994): 10-13. Appleyard, Anthony. "Is -ghagh allowed on simple verbs?" HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 20. Bach, Emmon, and Robert T. Harms, eds. Universals in Linguistic Theory. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1968. Barron, David. “An Interview with Marc Okrand.” HolQeD 1.2 (1992), 10-15. Beesley, Kenneth R. "Klingon Two-Level Morphology, Part I - Nouns." HolQeD 1.2 (1992): 16-24. ---. "Klingon Morphology, Part Two - Verbs." HolQeD 1.3 (1992): 10-18. Bybee, Joan. Morphology: A Study of the Relation Between Meaning and Form. Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1985. Cartin, Daniel. “Klingon Culture and its Poetry.” HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 12-14. Chomsky, Noam, and Morris Halle. The Sound Pattern of English. New York: Harper & Row, 1968. Chomsky, Noam. Knowledge of Language. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1986. ---. Language and Thought. Wakefield (RI): 1993. Clark, John, and Colin Yallop. An Introduction To Phonetics & Phonology. Oxford: Blackwell, 1990. Fromkin, Victoria, and Robert Rodman. An Introduction to Language. Orlando (FL): Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1988. Gamkrelidze, Thomas V. "On the Correlation of Stops and Fricatives in a Phonological System." Universals of Human Language. Ed. Joseph H. Greenberg. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. Greenberg, Joseph H., ed. Universals of Human Language. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. Krankor, Captain. "From the Grammarian's Desk." HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 3-6. ---. "The Continuing -ghach Controversy." HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 8-9. Maddieson, Ian. Patterns of Sounds. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984. Murphy, Richard. Imaginary Worlds: Notes on a New Curriculum. New York: Virgil, 1974. Prator, Jr., Clifford, and Betty Robinett. Manual of American English Pronunciation. Orlando: Harcourt Brace & Company, 1985. Prideaux, Gary Dean. The Syntax of Japanese Honorifics. The Hague: Mouton, 1970. Proechel, Glen F. "Forming Nouns From Verbs." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 9-10. ---. "Whither with -wI?" HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 7-9. Schoen, Lawrence M. "Some Comments on Orthography." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 18-20. Shoulson, Mark. "Tense, Aspect, and Simultaneity in tlhIngan Hol." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 11-13. Yaguello, Marina. Lunatic Lovers of Language. London: The Athlone Press, 1991. APPENDIX A PHONOLOGY PAPER Phonological Questions in tlhIngan Hol Phonological description of the language One of the first things any linguist notices about Klingon is its gigantic inventory of possible phonemes, based on the possible combinations of manner and place of articulation which are actually represented. Rather than take the time to discuss what doesn’t appear in Klingon, I will talk only about what does exist, and refer the reader to Wechsler, 1992, for a more complete discussion of the sounds that don’t exist. (Gamkrelidze [in Greenberg, 1978] also offers an interesting comparison of phonemes across languages which may be used as a baseline for further analysis of Klingon.) Klingon has 5 vowels, /a/, /e/, /I/, /o/, /u/; /a/, /o/, and /u/ are pronounced as you would expect, namely as a low back unrounded vowel, a mid-high back rounded vowel, and a low back rounded vowel respectively. The vowel /e/ would be written in IPA with an epsilon; it is a mid-high front lax unrounded vowel. The vowel /I/ corresponds to what would be written in IPA with a small capital "I" or an iota, namely a lax high front unrounded vowel; some speakers pronounce it as [i] in some situations, but there is little consistency; at this time [i] appears to be in free variation with [I]. As a general rule (ignoring the allophonic variation between [i] and [I]) Klingon front vowels are lax while the back vowels are tense. There are 21 consonants in the language, including two glides and a glottal stop. Most of the consonants in the language are fairly easy for English speakers to produce: /b/, /ch/, j/, /l/, /m/, /n/, /ng/, /p/, /t/, /v/, /w/, and /y/ are all pronounced very closely to the way they are in English. (Note that the digraphs /ch/ and /ng/ are single phonemes, corresponding to /cô/ and /N/ respectively in IPA.) The rest of the consonants, though, take a bit more thought and practice for English-speakers to produce correctly; they are listed below with an articulatory definition for each. /D/ voiced retroflex plosive (IPA /ê / ) /gh/ voiced velar fricative (IPA /v8/ ) /H/ voiceless velar fricative (IPA /x/) /q/ aspirated voiceless uvular stop (IPA /q/) /Q/ voiceless uvular affricate (IPA /X/ ) /r/ voiced alveolar trill; possible allophone: voiced approximant (more on this later) /S/ voiceless retroflex fricative (IPA /§/ ) /tlh/ voiceless lateral affricate (IPA /tÂ/) /’/ voiceless glottal stop (IPA /// ) Note again the digraphs (and one trigraph); these are all single phonemes, despite the orthography. Since it is conventional to use these, I will not attempt to re-write the Klingon data with single IPA characters; you will not encounter any examples where the orthography causes ambiguity, so long as you remember the rules of syllable structure elaborated below. Please note also that since the size of the letter is significant (for example, lower-case "q" versus upper-case "Q"), if I happen to need to begin a sentence with a Klingon word, it probably will begin with a lower-case letter, rather than the upper-case which is standard in English. This does not mean that I have forgotten the rules of English writing, but rather that I am writing the Klingon in the accepted transliteration style. It is also customary in Klingon linguistics to present the Klingon in boldface with the English gloss either in regular print or with double quotes. Klingon syllable structure is usually considered to be of the form CV(C), where there is a mandatory initial consonant, a mandatory vowel, and an optional final consonant. (This representation of the structure is, however, controversial, and periodically returns as a topic of debate among members of the KLI. Debate was at its height on the KLI listserv during the month of October, 1995, as well as at other times ). This contrasts with the highly variable syllable structure of English, in which the initial position may be filled by from zero to three consonants , the vowel position by zero to two vowels (zero if “vocalic consonants” are used) , and the final position by from zero to three consonants. A vowel may be syllable-initial in one and only one instance in the language: the Type-one noun suffix -oy which indicates "endearment" and which is extremely rarely used. In most cases, this suffix could "claim" an initial consonant from the final consonant of the preceding syllable, as in SoS+-oy: SoSoy "mommy" or "mother dearest" but in the case of a noun or name with no final consonant, we would see two vowels occurring together with no intervening consonant, something which otherwise never happens in the language: maraoy "Mara dearest" (However, it has been theorized that in the above case, a glottal stop would be inserted before the suffix so that the syllable would conform to normal Klingon syllable structure, resulting in mara’oy.) A vowel may never be word-initial; if someone wants to say a word that begins with a vowel (such as in attempting to say a loan word from a language that allows words to begin with vowels) the glottal stop must fill the initial consonant position (e.g., "Organia" becomes ’orghen). The vowel position may also be filled by a diphthong composed of a vowel and a glide (/w/ or /y/); in this case the final optional consonant position may only be filled by the glottal stop. The diphthongs which occur in the language are "aw" (pronounced [au]), "ay" ([ai]), "ey" ([ei]), "Iy" ([I:]), "oy" ([oi]), "uy" ([ui]), "ew" ([eu]), and "Iw" ([Iu]). The expected diphthongs "ow" and "uw" do not occur, supposedly because their pronunciation would be too close to that of the single vowels "o" and "u" to form a meaningful contrast (TKD2, 17). Only one true consonant cluster occurs within syllable boundaries: /rgh/. This always and only occurs in the syllable-final-consonant position, and in this combination the /r/ becomes an American-English-like approximant rather than a trill. Other apparent consonant clusters may occur because of the juxtaposition of syllable-final and syllable- initial consonants within a multisyllabic word, but the syllable boundaries will nevertheless remain clear; on the other hand, the English speaker must remember not to break up Klingon “consonant clusters” that are really single phonemes. For example, vIngev ("I sell it") has two syllables: vI+ngev but not *vIn+gev. The latter syllable division might seem reasonable to a speaker of English, but is specifically forbidden by Klingon syllable structure rules. chorghDIch ("eighth") also has two syllables: chorgh+DIch; here we see the syllable-final consonant cluster -rgh. We are also not so tempted here to divide the word in any other place, because English wouldn’t put "ghD" together in an onset or coda any more than Klingon does. ghItlhwI’ ("person who writes") might at first look unpronounceable, but remember that it contains a digraph at the beginning ("gh"), a vowel ("I"), a trigraph ("tlh"), a glide, another vowel, and a glottal stop, which results in a two-syllable word: ghItlh+wI’. As might be expected from the previous description of the sounds of the Klingon language, native speakers of English do not easily and naturally begin speaking Klingon with no trace of a foreign accent. Indeed, there are a number of sounds (the ones I detailed earlier as needing special definition, as well as the vowels) that are frequently mispronounced by new speakers of the language. Generally speakers pronounce these sounds more like familiar sounds in English, which is also to be expected, but they appear to do this for at least two different reasons: 1) because the sounds themselves are foreign, and 2) because the orthography lulls speakers into using the English sounds normally represented by those letters. There are native Klingon orthographic systems, but they are rarely used on a regular basis by my informants because of the difficulty of reproducing them accurately. (For a more thorough discussion of the various Klingon orthographic systems, see Schoen, 1992.) Most of my informants communicate over the internet, and therefore choose to use the roman alphabet since it is what is on their keyboards. Use of the native Klingon orthographic systems would probably reduce if not remove problem number 2 above, if speakers learned Klingon with the native orthographic system from the very beginning, instead of learning it from transliteration. The problem might also be reduced if new students learned the language orally. The main problem that new speakers of Klingon have with vowels is pronouncing them as the diphthongs peculiar to English instead of the "pure" vowels they really are; in some other (fewer) situations, new speakers tend to pronounce the wrong vowel entirely, such as saying [ei] for Klingon a. The latter is clearly a case of the English orthographic system, which uses five or six symbols to represent some 15 different sounds, interfering with and being transferred to the acquisition of Klingon. The Klingon phoneme /D/ is often produced as an alveolar by new speakers, probably because of both reasons cited earlier: the alveolar [d] is more familiar from English, and the use of the grapheme "D" makes native English speakers think that the sound should be pronounced the same way as it is in English. However, even speakers of Klingon who normally produce a "correct" retroflex [D] will produce an alveolar [d] when it occurs within a word that contains alveolar [t], such as nIDtaH ("trying") or Dat ("everywhere"). This seems to me to be a case of assimilation, where the speaker anticipates the alveolar [t] by making the [D] into an alveolar [d]. The Klingon sound [gh] is often a source of confusion for new speakers of the language, with two common mispronunciations. The first is a voiced uvular or glottal fricative (rather than the correct velar); this is probably because, in trying to produce the fricative, speakers begin by using the point of articulation of English /h/ (glottal), make it a fricative rather than a glide, then attempt to voice it, producing a sound which is farther back in the vocal cavity than necessary. The second common mispronunciation is an aspirated [g] (velar stop), which probably results from the orthography; this latter mispronunciation is more common among speakers who have had phonetic training and are accustomed to the idea of writing an aspirated consonant with a superscripted or normal-sized letter "h" following the character "main" sound. The Klingon voiceless velar fricative /H/, although not difficult to pronounce correctly, is often mispronounced as /h/ (voiceless glottal glide), probably because of its orthographic similarity to the English letter "h." This mispronunciation of /H/ can then lead to the mispronunciation of /gh/, as described in the previous paragraph. I believe the consistent mispronunciation of the two sounds is also aggravated by a particular line in The Klingon Dictionary, in which the two sounds are described: "It [Klingon gh] is the same as Klingon H, but with the vocal cords vibrating at the same time" (TKD2, 14). If the student learning the language has not sufficiently read the descriptions of the sounds (quoted below for your convenience), then s/he may remember only this final line when trying to speak the language and produce two sounds which are related, but are both incorrect. gh This is not like anything in English. It can be produced by putting the tongue in the same position it would be in to say English "g" as in "gobble," but relaxing the tongue somewhat and humming. It is the same as Klingon H (see below), but with the vocal cords vibrating at the same time... H This is also not like anything in English, but it is just like "ch" in the name of the German composer "Bach" or in the Yiddish toast "l’chaim" or the "j" in the Mexican city of "Tijuana" in "Baja California." It is produced in the same way as Klingon gh, but with a very coarse, strong rasp. Unlike Klingon gh, the vocal cords do not vibrate in saying Klingon H. (TKD2, 14). Since I know that a great number of English speakers have never heard the proper pronunciation of "Bach," "l’chaim," "Tijuana," or "Baja," I’m fairly sure that these same people would have difficulty in using these examples to properly produce Klingon H, and would therefore be likely to fall back on the English pronunciation as discussed earlier. The sound /ng/ is generally not a problem for new speakers; it merely takes a few moments of practice to master (since it doesn’t occur in the syllable-initial position in English), and speakers must remember not to separate it into two separate sounds, /n/ and /g/. This is especially true at a syllable boundary, such as in the word DenIbngan ("Denebian"), where a speaker might be tempted to insert an epenthetic vowel between the "b" and the "n," then start the next syllable with "g," or in the word vIngev ("I sell it"), where the speaker could be very tempted to place a syllable boundary between the "n" and the "g" rather than before the "n" where it belongs. (And if you’re wondering how a single two-syllable word can indicate two pronouns and a verb, you’ll find your answer in the Morphology section later on in this paper.) It has been rightfully pointed out to me that a speaker shouldn’t try to split "n" and "g" into separate sounds because Klingon doesn’t have a [g], but if the speaker is either mispronouncing [gh] as [g], or simply forgets that the language doesn’t have a voiced velar stop, s/he may very well try to put one in that position (which would probably be a case of transfer from English.) The Klingon /p/ is almost exactly like the English /p/, except that the Klingon is more forcefully aspirated; when properly pronounced, it is expected that the speaker will also expectorate (Conversational Klingon). Klingon /p/ is also aspirated in all positions, not merely in syllable-initial position like it is in English. The two sounds /q/ and /Q/ in Klingon are related, in that they are both voiceless uvulars; the first is an aspirated stop, the second an affricate. Both sounds are difficult for new speakers to produce correctly, since they are sounds which do not occur in English; since they are related, it is also sometimes difficult for new speakers to differentiate the two sounds. Okrand states in The Klingon Dictionary (page 58) that it is a common error to mispronounce /q/ as [k] and /Q/ as something along the lines of [kr], and that this is why we hear such names as "Kang" and "Kruge," which aren’t possible according to Klingon phonetics. These names would properly be qeng and Qugh respectively; English speakers, hearing the unfamiliar sounds, would "translate" them into sounds closer to them that can occur in English. In contrast to Okrand’s findings, I have noted that new speakers tend to pronounce both /q/ and /Q/ as /k/ (I have also heard /Q/ pronounced as a highly-aspirated [kh] in contrast to the less-aspirated [k] of /q/.) I theorize that this occurs because English speakers are accustomed to seeing the letter "q" followed by the letter "u" in such words as "queen" and "queue," where the pronunciation of the combination "qu" is /kw/ or /ky/. The only word (that I know of) which English speakers regularly use which contains the letter "q" not followed by "u" is "Iraq," which English speakers typically pronounce with a /k/ at the end; therefore, they are apt to transfer this sound into their Klingon when they encounter the graphemes "q" and "Q." (In addition, since English does not differentiate phonetically between upper- and lower- case letters, new speakers of Klingon are apt to ignore the difference between the two graphemes and treat them as one and the same.) In a similar situation to that of “q” and “Q,” the Klingon phoneme /tlh/ is often translated into [kl] by English speakers, especially if it occurs at the beginning of a word (where English doesn’t allow "tl" to occur); the classic example of this is, of course, the word "Klingon," which should be pronounced [tlhIngan]. The sound /r/ in Klingon is, as stated earlier, a voiced alveolar trill; like /ng/, it is not terribly difficult to produce with a little practice, especially if the new speaker has had previous experience with a language such as Spanish or Italian which uses this sound. Apparently there is one allophone of /r/ in Klingon: as explained earlier, /r/ can become an American-English-like approximant when it is part of the cluster /rgh/. As was pointed out to me in a private communication from Nick Nichols, although pronouncing /rgh/ with the trill is considered practically impossible by native English speakers, it’s no problem in Modern Greek; the Master himself, however, does produce the cluster with an approximant, therefore this pronunciation is considered canon. The next troublesome sound in the language is /S/, the voiceless retroflex apico- palatal fricative. Because of the orthography, new speakers often produce a voiceless alveolar fricative such as normally occurs in English; upon learning that the sound isn’t /s/, they typically start producing a voiceless laminopalatal fricative (/sô/), presumably because these are the only two "s-sounds" that English has. Nick Nichols (private communication) has told me that when he has produced a correct retroflex fricative for English speakers who know nothing of Klingon, they typically mistake the sound for /f/, presumably because /S/ is non-strident; my personal experience has been that listeners still “hear” one of the two “s-sounds” of English. Speakers of Klingon may also produce an alveolar [s] when /S/ is in the neighborhood of the alveolar /t/, such as in the word wIboStaH ("We are collecting it"); on the flip side, though, speakers may be more apt to produce the correct retroflexes when two of them occur in succession, such as in wIboSDI’ ("As soon as we collect it"), because there is no need to change points of articulation. The last sound that we will address in Klingon is /’/ or the glottal stop. Despite the fact that we have this sound in English, since it is not represented in English orthography it often makes new students of Klingon wonder how to handle it. Once the sound is learned, it is not difficult for English speakers to produce within a word, since that is where it tends to appear most in English, but it is often more difficult to produce at the beginning or at the end of a word. For example, new speakers may have trouble differentiating the two words may ("be fair") and may’ ("battle"). They may also have trouble producing two glottal stops in a row, as often happens in the language; examples are the compound noun Ho’’oy’ ("toothache") or the verb phrase nuleghpu’’a’ ("Has he seen us?"). This is, however, actually a less significant problem because it is rare for a double versus single glottal stop to form a meaningful contrast in the language. Making mistakes in the usage of glottal stop cannot be attributed to transfer from the English orthographic system, since English doesn’t specifically notate a glottal stop, so I must conclude that it is merely the unfamiliarity with consciously controlling the sound which troubles new speakers. In the previous section we have seen that English transfer can have a large impact on how Klingon is pronounced by new speakers; if these new students of the language work primarily with the written form of the language (as many do, including myself), their pronunciation may never become correct because of the interference from the English orthographic system. However, as we will observe in the next chapter, the rather complicated Klingon morphological system is well-suited to a learning situation in which writing is stressed; since many of the most active Klingon "speakers" actually do most of their conversing over the internet, the already-large body of Klingon literature available for study grows daily. (For those who don’t read Klingon, a computerized parsing program called the Klingon Analyzer is available to aid in rough translation of texts. See Beesley, 1992 [2 references], for another description of Klingon morphology and how it relates to machine translation.) Works Cited Appleyard, Anthony. "Is -ghagh allowed on simple verbs?" HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 20. Beesley, Kenneth R. "Klingon Two-Level Morphology, Part I - Nouns." HolQeD 1.2 (1992): 16-24. ---. "Klingon Morphology, Part Two - Verbs." HolQeD 1.3 (1992): 10-18. Bybee, Joan. Morphology: A Study of the Relation Between Meaning and Form. Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1985. Clark, John, and Colin Yallop. An Introduction To Phonetics & Phonology. Oxford: Blackwell, 1990. [Consulted for articulatory definitions.] Fromkin, Victoria, and Robert Rodman. An Introduction to Language. Orlando (FL): Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1988. [Consulted for articulatory definitions and cited in Wechsler, below.] Gamkrelidze, Thomas V. "On the Correlation of Stops and Fricatives in a Phonological System." Universals of Human Language. Ed. Joseph H. Greenberg. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. "Great Affix Contest, The." HolQeD 1:3 (1992): 3. Greenberg, Joseph H., ed. Universals of Human Language. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. "Interview: Okrand on -ghach." HolQeD 3.3 (1994): 10-13. Krankor, Captain. "The Continuing -ghach Controversy." HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 8-9. ---. "From the Grammarian's Desk." HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 3-6. Levine, Barry and Marc Okrand. Power Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993. Okrand, Marc. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1985. (Indicated in references as "TKD.") ---. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1992. ("TKD2"). ---. Conversational Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992. ("CK"). Prator, Jr., Clifford, and Betty Robinett. Manual of American English Pronunciation. Orlando: Harcourt Brace & Company, 1985. [consulted for articulatory definitions] Proechel, Glen F. "Forming Nouns From Verbs." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 9-10. ---. "Whither with -wI?" HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 7-9. Schoen, Lawrence M. "Some Comments on Orthography." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 18-20. Shoulson, Mark. "Tense, Aspect, and Simultaneity in tlhIngan Hol." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 11-13. Wechsler, Allan C. "First Steps Toward a Phonological Theory of Klingon." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 3-10. APPENDIX B MORPHOLOGY PAPER Klingon Verbal Morphology and Zero Morphemes Morphological description of the language Klingon is an agglutinative language with strict sentence structure of Object- Verb-Subject. There are three major parts of speech: wot “verb ,” DIp “noun,” and chuvmey “leftovers,” or everything else. chuvmey are further broken down into the following categories: pronouns which can stand alone; numbers; conjunctions, both those that can join nouns and those that can join sentences; adverbials; exclamations; and names and forms of address. Verbs are the most complex parts of speech in Klingon, followed by nouns; since the two parts of speech share many characteristics, however, I will begin by describing the noun system and follow up with the verbal description. Nouns in Klingon consist of a stem and from zero to five suffixes. Each suffix is typed, and the types must be affixed in order to the stem: N-1-2-3-4-5. If someone wants to use a Type 2 suffix and a Type 5 suffix, they must be affixed in that order: N-2-5, not *N-5-2. Only a single suffix from a given Type may be used on one stem, so *N-4-4 would be an ill-formed word in Klingon. An analogous case in English would be the suffixes -er (meaning "person or thing which verbs") and -s (plural): if one wants to use both on a word, -er must come before -s, or the word is ill-formed. Thus, from the word "print" we derive "printers" but not *"printser." We also would not use two of the same suffix (such as -s) to create something like *"printses." Type 1 noun suffixes are augmentative or diminutive. The suffix ­’a’ indicates that noun is "bigger, more important, or more powerful than it would be without the suffix" (TKD2, 21): SuS wind, breeze SuS’a’ strong wind Qagh mistake Qagh’a’ major blunder The suffix -Hom is just the opposite: SuS wind, breeze SusHom wisp of air roj peace rojHom truce There is a third Type 1 suffix which indicates diminution in the sense of endearment: ­oy It is extremely rarely used and, as previously mentioned in the Phonology section, is the only instance in the language of an affix beginning with a vowel. Type 2 noun suffixes indicate number. However, unlike in English, just because a noun doesn’t have a plural marker doesn’t mean that it is singular; in most cases plurality can also be indicated by a verbal prefix or by context. However, it is never incorrect to make a noun plural; it just may be considered verbose or overkill. Thus, one may say, yaS jIH I am an officer. yaS maH We are officers. yaS is the word for "officer(s)" in both of these sentences; the only difference is the pronoun, which indicates plurality without the need for making the nouns plural. However, if one wished, one could say, yaSpu’ maH We are officers and be completely correct. One could no more say *yaSpu’ jIH "I am officers" in Klingon, however, than in English. That said, we have already introduced the first of the three Klingon plural suffixes: ­pu’. This suffix is only used for beings who are capable of using language. The second plural suffix is ­Du’, which is used for body parts, both those of beings capable of using language and of animals. For example, qam foot qamDu’ feet tlhon nostril tlhonDu’ nostrils The last plural suffix is ­mey, which is for general usage, as in mID colony mIDmey colonies yuQ planet yuQmey planets. ­mey may also be used with nouns referring to beings capable of using language, but when it is, it adds a distributive concept, a connotation of "scattered all about." Observe: puq child puqpu’ children puqmey children all over the place. In general, ­mey may not be used with body parts, but Okrand notes that in poetry this rule may be broken to achieve particular moods or special effects (TKD2, 23). Type 3 noun suffixes are called suffixes of qualification, because they indicate the speaker’s attitude toward the noun. The suffix ­qoq "so-called" indicates that the speaker is using the noun in an ironic fashion, or that s/he doesn’t believe that the noun is being used in a true sense: roj peace rojqoq so-called peace In this example the speaker would use rojqoq if s/he believed the peace to be a ruse, or that it was unlikely to endure. The second qualification suffix is ­Hey "apparent;" it indicates that the speaker is pretty sure that the noun, as it is being used, is accurate, but still has some doubts. The third suffix in this group is ­na’ "definite," which is used when the speaker is absolutely sure of what s/he is saying and wants to make that clear to the hearer. Type 4 noun suffixes are used for specification and possession. This is the largest class of noun suffixes, and includes some that we would consider duplicates in English (note the repeats of the English glosses "my," "your," and "our" from table to table). -wIj my -maj our -lIj your -raj your (pl) -Daj his/her/its -chaj their When the noun being possessed refers to a being capable of using language, a special set of possessive suffixes are used for first and second person: -wI’ my -ma’ our -lI’ your -ra’ your (pl) So, we would have the following possessed nouns in Klingon: juHwIj my home (because juH "home" is not a person) puqwI’ my child (because puq "child" is a person) The Type 4 category also includes the suffixes which correspond to "this," "that," "these," and "those" in English: ­vam, which indicates "this" or "these," and ­vetlh, which indicates "that" or "those." Just like the noun in Klingon, these suffixes have no inherent singularity or plurality; they automatically are taken as agreeing in number with the noun they modify. Thus, we obtain puqvam this child puqpu’vam these children puqvetlh that child puqpu’vetlh those children The second and fourth examples also demonstrate the relative ordering of Klingon noun suffixes: one cannot say *puqvampu’ for "these children," because plural markers are Type 2 and specification markers are Type 4. Finally, we come to Type 5 noun suffixes, the Syntactic Markers, which indicate something about the function of the word within the sentence. Normally, whether a word is subject or object is indicated by its position within the sentence, but if it happens to fill another role (like prepositional phrases often do in English) then these suffixes indicate what that role is: locative, direction, cause, or topic. The first such suffix is ­Daq "locative;" it fills the role of such English prepositions as "to," "in," "on," and "at." Which one would be appropriate in a translation is governed by context; for example, pa’Daq jIyaH Go to the room. If, however, the speaker and the hearer were standing right outside the room in question, the same sentence would mean "Go in the room." The next suffix is ­vo’ "from," and indicates action away from the noun, as in pa’vo’ yIjaH Leave the room. (Go from the room.) The suffix ­mo’ indicates "because of" or "due to," as in SuSmo’ joqtaH It [a flag] is fluttering in (due to, because of) the breeze. The suffix ­vaD translates roughly as "for" or "intended for" so that we find examples such as the following: Qu’vaD lI’ De’vam This information is useful for the mission. Finally, the suffix ­’e’ "topic" indicates that the noun is the topic of the sentence. This contrasts with the English speaker’s stressing of the topic noun or using of alternate wordings: lujpu’ jIH’e’ I, and only I, have failed. De’’e’ vItlhapnIspu’ I needed to get the INFORMATION. (Rather than needing something else.) If the suffix ­’e’ is left out of these same sentences, nothing in particular is stressed, resulting in the English equivalents "I have failed" and "I needed to get the information." Now that we have all five noun suffix types, we can see how Klingon words can relatively easily make use of all five types at once: Qapla’-’a’-mey-na-chaj-vaD success-augment-pl-definite-their-for N 1 2 3 4 5 "for their definite great successes" However, nouns with two suffixes are much more common: nachwIjDaq at/on my head Now that we have seen the Klingon noun suffixes, we can move on to a description of the verbal suffixes. There are nine types of verbal suffixes, rather than five as there are for nouns: PV-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9. Note the "P" or prefix before the verb stem; Klingon verbal prefixes encode both the subject and the object of the action in a single syllable. The proper prefix is chosen, when necessary, from the following chart, where subjects are indicated on the left and objects across the top (TKD2, 33): ¯s/o® none 1s 2s 3s 1p 2p 3p 1s jI- - qa- vI- - Sa- vI- 2s bI cho- - Da- ju- - Da- 3s 0 mu- Du- 0 nu- lI- 0 1p ma- - pI- wI- - re- DI- 2p Su- tu- - bo- che- - bo- 3p 0 mu- nI- lu- nu- lI- 0 "0" in the chart indicates a null prefix; "-" indicates that the subject-object pair is handled by some other means than prefixation, namely by suffixation. As you can see, both subject and object of the verb can be indicated by a single pronominal prefix; for example, the prefix vI- indicates that "I" is the subject and "he/she/it" is the object, while the prefix 0 leaves the object as "he/she/it" but indicates that "he/she/it (different from the object)" is the subject:vI+ghItlh "I write it" and ghItlh "he writes it." In the latter case ghItlh "he writes it" shows no difference in surface form from the verb stem ghItlh "write," but the underlying representation of "he writes it" can be written as 0+ghItlh. 0+ghItlh (with no context) could also mean "he/she/it writes" (with no object being written, simply indicating habitual action), "he/she/it writes them" (in the sense that "he writes more than one thing," NOT "he writes to them"), "they write" (no object), and "they write them (many things)." Note that different verbs will allow usage of different parts of this chart; the verb "write" which we have been using cannot take first- or second-person objects (as in "you write me") because "Object" in the chart is really "Direct Object," and first- or second-person pronouns would be indirect objects (as in "you write [the letter] to me.") Other verbs, such as Sop "eat" could take a first- or second-person object, if the speaker truly wanted to indicate that cannibalism was taking place; other verbs, such as Qong "sleep" would require "no-object" prefixes at all times. There is also a set of imperative prefixes: ¯s/o® none me him/her/it us them you (sing) yI- HI- yI- gho- tI- you (pl) pe- HI- yI- gho- tI- Of course, imperatives take only second person as their subject by definition; the only difference between the singular and plural imperative forms is in the no-object form, which indicates the difference between singular and plural. The imperative prefixes would be used when the speaker wants the verb to be taken as a command, such as yISop "[You,] Eat it!" (in contrast to the declarative DaSop "you eat it"). I will cover Klingon verbal suffixes in less detail than I did the noun suffixes whenever possible, now that I have laid the groundwork of Klingon affixation processes. Verbal suffixes follow the same rules as noun suffixes: they must be appended in order, and only one of a Type may be used at a time. The only exceptions to these rules are the suffixes known as lengwI’mey ("rovers": from leng "travel" + wI’ "thing which does" + mey "plural"); rovers can -- in general -- be inserted anywhere they are needed, and may be used more than once. (More on lengwI’mey after descriptions of the nine verbal suffix types.) Type 1 verbal suffixes are reflexives/reciprocals: ­’egh "oneself," used with singular subjects, and ­chuq "each other, one another," used with plural subjects. Either of these suffixes require a "no-object" prefix. Type 2 suffixes indicate volition or predisposition of the subject. The suffixes in this group are ­nIS "need," -qang "willing," ­rup "ready, prepared," ­beH "ready, set up," and ­vIp "afraid." It should be noted that the suffix ­rup can only be used with subjects who are beings; its counterpart ­beH can only be used for equipment or machinery. The final suffix in this group, ­vIp, although grammatically available, is culturally taboo, at least in the first person (in other words, no Klingon would ever admit to being afraid, but might accuse someone else of it.) Type 3 suffixes indicate change: ­choH shows a change in state or direction; ­qa’ indicates resumption of an activity that had been in progress earlier but had stopped. There is only one Type 4 suffix: ­moH "cause." The two Type 5 suffixes really have nothing to do with each other; perhaps that is why they are in the same group, strange as that may sound. The first is ­lu’ "indefinite subject," which usually causes a phrase it appears in to be translated into English passive voice. The other is ­laH "can, be able." This suffix is similar to the Japanese infix ­e­ which also signals ability: miru "to see, to look" versus mieru "to be able to see [something]." (Note that ­e­ in Japanese appears in a number of different phonological forms depending on which verb is it attached to, while the Klingon ­laH always has the same phonological form.) The Type 6 verbal suffixes are very similar to the Type 3 noun suffixes; namely, they indicate certainty on the part of the speaker. These suffixes are: ­chu’ "clearly, perfectly," -bej "certainly, undoubtedly," ­ba’ "obviously" and ­law’ "seemingly, apparently." The final suffix (­law’) is often translated into English with the phrases "I think" or "I suspect," and may be compared to (and, in sentences, used with) the nominal suffixes ­qoq "so-called" or ­Hey "apparent." The first three suffixes in this group, ­chu, -bej, and ­ba’ may be used in sentences with the nominal suffix ­na’ "definite." Type 7 suffixes indicate aspect; the Klingon language does not overtly indicate tense. (For a more detailed look at how tense and aspect are handled in Klingon, see Shoulson, 1993.) Verbs which lack a Type 7 suffix are usually translated into English using the simple present, since they indicate that the action is not completed and is not continuous. The suffix ­pu’ indicates perfective aspect; ­ta’ indicates that an action is accomplished or done (more in a moment); ­taH means that an action is continuous; and ­lI’ means that the action is in progress (again, more in a moment). The difference between ­pu’ and ­ta’ is that ­ta’ carries the connotation that the action was deliberately undertaken, rather than simply happening; English does not generally make this distinction, so both suffixes tend to get translated into the English present perfect, with no differentiation between them. The difference between ­taH and ­lI’ is that ­lI’ carries the connotation that the action has a known goal and a definite stopping point; a verb with ­taH could, theoretically, keep verb-ing for eternity with no end in sight. Type 8 contains a single suffix: ­neS "honorific." This suffix is never required in Klingon, neither grammatically nor culturally; I will return to this point later on. Type 9 suffixes are similar to Type 5 noun suffixes, in that they are so-called syntactic markers; note that for both nouns and verbs the syntactic markers are the final, or peripheral, group of suffixes. As such, a Type 9 (or Type 5 nominal) suffix modifies the entire phrase to which it is attached, not merely the single element preceding it. The suffix ­DI’ means "as soon as," or "when;" ­chugh means "if;" ­pa’ means "before;" ­vIS means "while;" ­bogh glosses as "which" (a relative clause marker); ­meH glosses as "for" (a purposive clause marker); ­mo’ glosses as "because" and is identical to the Type 5 noun suffix ­mo’; ­jaj’ glosses as "may" or "let" and indicates a desire or wish on the part of the speaker; ­ghach is a nominalizer (whose proper usage is also very controversial--see Appleyard, "Interview," Krankor [2 references], and Proechel [2 references]); ­’a’ is the interrogative suffix; and ­wI’ turns verbs into nouns of the form "person who does Verb" or "thing which does Verb." A couple of notes are required here: ­vIS "while" requires that the verb also contain the Type 7 suffix ­taH "continuous." Also, the interrogative suffix ­’a’ can only be used for yes/no questions; other types of questions require the use of question words, in a manner similar to English and many other languages. There is one final Type of verbal suffix in Klingon: the lengwI’ or rover (normally spoken of in the plural: lengwI’mey, rovers). The first of these is ­be’ "not," which can be placed anywhere within the verbal unit, as necessary, to negate the concept immediately preceding it, whether that concept is expressed as a word stem or as an affix. The only restrictions on its use are that it cannot follow a Type 9 suffix, and it cannot be used with imperative verbs; imperatives take the suffix ­Qo’ "Don’t!, won’t" instead. (­Qo’ can also be used on its own to indicate refusal.) Another negative suffix is ­Ha’ "undo," which not only indicates negation, but that a change of state has occurred: what was done is now undone. (It can also indicate that something has been done wrongly (TKD2, 47).) An interesting note about ­Ha’ is that, although classed as a rover, it nevertheless is always placed immediately after the verb stem; no one seems to know why this is the case, but it would be an interesting question for future research. ­Ha’ does not fall into the Type 1 group of suffixes, however, because a Type 1 suffix can follow a verb stem to which -Ha’ has been appended: vInobHa’egh "I take it away from myself" (literally, "I-it give undo oneself"). (There is another verb, nge’, which means "take away" but it does not have the connotation that what is being taken was previously given by the same person.) The suffix ­qu’ is an emphatic, emphasizing whatever element immediately precedes it. A few examples should help clarify the usage of these "negative" particles, as well as demonstrating that multiple lengwI’mey can be used simultaneously: qay’be’ “it’s not a problem,” “no problem” problem-not choja’ vIpbe’ "You’re not afraid to tell me" you-me tell afraid not choja’be’vIp "You’re afraid to not tell me" you-me tell not afraid choja’be’qu’vIp "You’re afraid to NOT tell me" you-me tell not emph afraid yIHoHQo’ "Don’t kill him/her!" you-him/her (imp) kill don’t Finally, with the basic groundwork in place, we come to the question that I found most intriguing about Klingon verbal morphology: why don’t we see a Klingon verb with nine suffixes attached? This question arose in the first place when I was reading The Klingon Dictionary and came across the following statement: No instances have been found of a verb followed by nine suffixes, but it is theoretically possible (TKD2, 44). My immediate reaction was, “Why should this be?” I then decided to attempt to discover the answer to the puzzle. I should now state, before continuing, that I have seen a Klingon verb with nine suffixes (and more) attached -- in the results of a Klingon wordplay competition (HolQeD 1.3, 3). Two entrants managed this feat, but only by using the Type 9 suffix ­wI’ to nominalize the verb, then adding noun suffixes; for the purposes of this research, I didn’t count those, because not all of the suffixes used were verbal suffixes. When I first asked my informants their feelings on this research question, the most common response I received was, "Well, a lot of the time you don’t need to use all the possible suffixes because it’s redundant." In other words, if you don’t need that extra information for clarity or emphasis (and remember that there’s an emphatic suffix to take care of the latter, at least in some cases), then you don’t use it. This could be likened to pro-drop in most Romance languages, e.g., "Soy americana" ("I am an American (female)") versus "Yo soy americana" ("I am an American (female)") in Spanish, where it is perfectly normal to drop the personal pronoun "yo" ("I") because its information is duplicated in the verb conjugation. But this phenomenon clearly does not account for all instances of Klingon verbal suffix use, and we must therefore look further. When I began this portion of my research, I was looking for blocking patterns within the various verbal suffix Types. The only true instance of blocking I discovered, however, was the Type 9 suffix ­jaj’, which can be glossed as "may." Use of this suffix blocks the use of any Type 7 (aspectual) suffix whatsoever, because only by not having a Type 7 suffix can the idea that the action is both incomplete and not continuous be expressed, which is necessary when speaking of a hypothetical future. This is not a case, however, of all Type 9 suffixes blocking Type 7 suffixes, because we have the reverse phenomenon of the Type 9 suffix ­vIS requiring the Type 7 suffix ­taH. The comments my informants made about suffixes sometimes being redundant gave me the idea that perhaps some suffix Types have a zero suffix included in the category, which carries a "default" value if no other suffix in the Type is used (see Bybee, 27). For example, Type 1 suffixes are called reflexives/reciprocals; what if there is another Type 1 suffix, a zero, which carries the information "not reflexive/reciprocal" when it is used? This would parallel the zeros in the verbal prefix chart which indicate that the lack of a prefix can signal third person subject and either no object (for singular subjects) or third person object (for either singular or plural subjects). Thus, we could take the underlying representation of legh "he/she/it sees him/her/it/them" as being legh+0 "he/she/it sees him/her/it/them not-reflexive/reciprocal." A similar argument for a zero suffix could be made for other suffix Types. In Type 3 suffixes, which indicate change, the zero would carry the information "no change," or "simple action." In Type 4 suffixes (Cause) the zero would probably carry the connotation "no comment on cause." In Type 5 suffixes (Indefinite Subject/Ability) the zero could indicate either "active voice" or "no comment on ability." Type 7 (Aspect) suffixes would have a zero suffix that indicates that the action is "not completed, not continuing," or "simple present." Finally, a zero suffix in the Type 8 category would simply mean "no honorific," which accords well with the common belief that there is never a time when a Type 8 suffix is required. I have not been able to create a logical meaning for a zero suffix or "default" setting within Types 2, 6, or 9, but even if we accept the hypothesis that the other six Types have zero affixes, then we can argue that a sentence containing only overt suffixes of Types 2, 6, and 9 would actually, in the underlying representation, carry all nine Types. For example, Hegh - qang - chu’ - ’a’ Is s/he clearly willing to die? die willing clearly ques consists on the surface of the verb stem Hegh "die" with a zero prefix indicating 3rd person subject/no object, the Type 2 suffix ­qang "willing," the Type 6 suffix ­chu’ "clearly," and the Type 9 interrogative suffix ­’a’. The surface form appears to have no prefix and three suffixes, but I would like to argue that the underlying representation is really this: 0-Hegh-0-qang-0-0-0-chu’-0-0-’a’ which carries the connotations of: "Third-person-subject, no object; die; not-reflexive; willing; unchanging; not caused; active voice; clearly; not completed; not honorific; yes/no question." At first this might seem a little contrived, but I believe that it carries the necessary information that the person 1) although willing to die, is not contemplating killing him/herself; 2) is set in the decision, and is not changing his/her mind about it; 3) is not being caused by someone or something else to feel this way; 4) is being spoken of in the active rather than the passive voice; and 5) has not stopped the action of being willing to die. In addition, the person to whom the speaker is talking is not of high enough rank to cause the speaker to wish to use the honorific, nor is the subject of the sentence entitled to the use of that suffix. All of this information is important, but with the structure of the Klingon verbal affix system, it does not have to be overtly mentioned in order to be expressed. My findings, then, are that a small amount of blocking does occur in Klingon verbal morphology, but it is not a significant factor in determining how many suffixes will appear on a verb in any particular situation. Therefore, I have hypothesized and shown that six of the nine suffix Types can be thought of as having members which appear as zero surface forms, yet which still carry important information. If we assume that these zero morphemes exist, we can state that Klingon verbs do appear which have nine (or more) suffixes attached, but not all of the suffixes are visible or audible in the surface form. This discovery could have interesting applications in the analysis of Klingon semantics, as well as morphology, because what a speaker chooses to "not say" (by the use of zero morphemes) could be just as important as what is said with the overt affixes. Works Cited Appleyard, Anthony. "Is -ghagh allowed on simple verbs?" HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 20. Beesley, Kenneth R. "Klingon Two-Level Morphology, Part I - Nouns." HolQeD 1.2 (1992): 16-24. ---. "Klingon Morphology, Part Two - Verbs." HolQeD 1.3 (1992): 10-18. Bybee, Joan. Morphology: A Study of the Relation Between Meaning and Form. Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1985. Clark, John, and Colin Yallop. An Introduction To Phonetics & Phonology. Oxford: Blackwell, 1990. [Consulted for articulatory definitions.] Fromkin, Victoria, and Robert Rodman. An Introduction to Language. Orlando (FL): Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1988. [Consulted for articulatory definitions and cited in Wechsler, below.] Gamkrelidze, Thomas V. "On the Correlation of Stops and Fricatives in a Phonological System." Universals of Human Language. Ed. Joseph H. Greenberg. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. "Great Affix Contest, The." HolQeD 1:3 (1992): 3. Greenberg, Joseph H., ed. Universals of Human Language. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. "Interview: Okrand on -ghach." HolQeD 3.3 (1994): 10-13. Krankor, Captain. "The Continuing -ghach Controversy." HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 8-9. ---. "From the Grammarian's Desk." HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 3-6. Levine, Barry and Marc Okrand. Power Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993. Okrand, Marc. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1985. (Indicated in references as "TKD.") ---. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1992. ("TKD2"). ---. Conversational Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992. ("CK"). Prator, Jr., Clifford, and Betty Robinett. Manual of American English Pronunciation. Orlando: Harcourt Brace & Company, 1985. [consulted for articulatory definitions] Proechel, Glen F. "Forming Nouns From Verbs." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 9-10. ---. "Whither with -wI?" HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 7-9. Schoen, Lawrence M. "Some Comments on Orthography." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 18-20. Shoulson, Mark. "Tense, Aspect, and Simultaneity in tlhIngan Hol." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 11-13. Wechsler, Allan C. "First Steps Toward a Phonological Theory of Klingon." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 3-10. APPENDIX C SYNTAX PAPER A Syntactic Overview of tlhIngan Hol: Comparisons and Contrasts with English and Other Languages Introduction In this paper I intend to address some syntactic differences between the artificial language tlhIngan Hol (a.k.a. Klingon) and English, particularly those differences in Theta Roles, Case Assignment and Agreement, and Passivity. I chose to research this topic because I am currently writing my thesis on the semantics of Klingon, and because Klingon offers a very alien perspective on language. It is a head-first language which encodes a great deal of both lexical and functional information in bound morphemes (prefixes and suffixes); in addition, the word order of Klingon is a very strict Object- Verb-Subject, which is quite alien to most natural languages on Earth. I will first provide additional background information on the language, then continue with a more detailed analysis of the syntactic questions already mentioned. Necessary Background Information The first major difference to note about Klingon syntax is that there is no differentiation between verbs and adjectives in the language: everything that English would consider an adjective is encoded as a verb in Klingon. These adjective-verbs are normally glossed with “be-” preceding them, to indicate that they are verbs and not simply adjectives. For example, Doy’ puq be-tired child [The] child is tired. However, these adjective-verbs can also be used to modify nouns just as an adjective would in English : puq Doy’ child tired [the] tired child All “adjectives” in Klingon can take the same verbal affixes that “regular” verbs do, and “regular verbs” can be used as adjectives (in much the way that English would make a gerund out of verb and then use it as an adjective): qettaH puq (qet = “run” -taH = “continuous”) run-continuous child [The] child [is] running. puq qettaH child run-continuous [the] running child As may be expected, Klingon has no copula; since its “adjectives” are verbs, the language does not require another verb in order to set a noun equal to an adjective or another noun. Passivity in Klingon Although not necessarily a marker of passivity, the T5V suffix -lu’ (indefinite subject) often yields a sentence which translates as passive in English. This is because often, in English, the passive is notable for deleting the agent of the sentence; we may, therefore, for the moment consider the suffix -lu’ as “passive -- agent deleted.” Note, however, that if an agent is overtly stated, Klingon would not structure the sentence as a passive; even translating a passive sentence from English would result in an active sentence in Klingon. Daleghlu’ you-him/her/it/them see indef-subj Someone/something sees you. OR, You are seen (by him/her/it/them [indefinite]). But, if the speaker wanted to say something like the English, “You are seen by Torg,” Klingon would structure it as an active sentence: Dulegh Torgh He/she/it-you see Torg. Torg sees you. Thus, we see that Klingon does not have a true passive voice; it merely allows for indefinite subjects to be expressed, which on the surface initially appears (and can be translated) as a passive. Theta-Roles in Klingon At first glance, Klingon appears to assign Theta roles in the same way that English and many other languages do: for example, the verb legh (see) requires a subject/agent and an object/theme, the verb Qong (sleep) requires a subject/agent, etc. However, whereas English requires that these roles be filled overtly, Klingon appears to be able to fill these roles covertly, using only a pronominal verbal prefix instead of overtly filling the subject and/or object positions in the sentence. Observe: paq vIlegh jIH book I-it see I I see [the] book. In this sentence, both the subject (“I”) and the object (“book”) have been overtly stated, and therefore overtly fill the two theta-roles specified by the verb legh (see). Yet, the more common way to state this same information would be: paq vIlegh book I-him/her/it see I see [the] book. Here, the only thing that has changed is the overt usage of the pronoun jIH (“I”); since its information is already encoded in the verbal prefix vI- (“I-him/her/it”) the pronoun itself may be dropped from the sentence without loss of meaning or theta-role. When it comes to working with a verb that, in English, assigns three theta-roles, such as “give” (nob), we run into more difficulties in Klingon; although word order in the language is Object-Verb-Subject, the Object is not, according to canon, specifically Direct or Indirect. There is only one mention of “indirect objects” in the entire canon: section 6.8 in the 1992 Appendix to The Klingon Dictionary: While the object of the verb is the recipient of the action, the indirect object may be considered the beneficiary. In a Klingon sentence, the indirect object precedes the object and is suffixed with the Type 5 noun suffix -vaD for, intended for. The suffix may be attached to either a noun or a pronoun. Examples of the usage pattern that Okrand provided are as follows: I give a book to him. / I give him a book. ghaHvaD paq vInob him/her/it for book I-him/her/it give If I were merely to say, paq vInob the sentence would be ungrammatical, meaning roughly, “I give it [the] book.” Although this sounds all right on the surface to an English speaker (it sounds like our dative-shift form of the sentence), to a Klingon listener the object portion of the pronominal prefix encodes the same information as the word paq, therefore the sentence is missing a theta-role: the speaker is obviously giving a book, but to whom or what is s/he giving it? In English, the indirect object is usually marked with the preposition “to” (so long as the dative shift has not occurred); in Klingon, a preposition can’t be used because Klingon doesn’t have prepositions. However, we may look at the noun suffixes as postpositions, perhaps something like the Japanese particles ni or e in the following sentence: Kare ni hon wo agemasu. or Kare e hon wo agemasu. Him to book obj give. [I] give [a] book to him. Note that the direct object is specifically marked with a particle whose sole function is to indicate “direct object-ness;” I will note here as well that there is no difference between subject and object forms of pronouns in Japanese, just like in Klingon. If we accept ghaHvaD paq vInob as meaning “I give the book to him” then we have discovered another difference between Klingon and English: English uses the same preposition, “to,” to indicate both locative and dative, while Klingon uses two different suffixes, -Daq and -vaD respectively. In this way Klingon even differs from Japanese; the particles e and ni can indicate either dative or locative, just as “to” can in English. Since the information that we have on objects is rather vague, dealing with both direct and indirect objects in sentences is a touchy subject for Hol speakers; after I brought up the subject in February of 1996, debate continued on the Klingon Language Institute listserv for close to two months with few clear decisions emerging. One of the ideas proposed was that Klingon verbs simply do not function like English verbs do when it comes to transitivity: although we have a very few verbs which are canonically defined as transitive or intransitive, in most cases speakers have to rely on their own judgements. The idea that all verbs are ambiguous in terms of transitivity has been proposed but rejected by the majority of KLI members on the grounds that this would allow any verb to be used “too freely.” I tend to agree with this assessment, but since we are working with an alien language, perhaps we are attempting to impose our own human notions of grammar when we should not be doing so. Another proposal, one still being seriously considered by most KLI members at the time of this writing, is that, due to Klingon’s preference for brevity, objects may routinely be omitted that would otherwise have to be expressed in English. This could be viewed as a differing form of semantic representation than English uses, yet one that still falls within Theta Theory. It is possible that Klingon does assign theta roles like English does, but then allows those roles to be filled by phonetically empty elements (similar to the actual and theoretical zero morphemes I have proposed and discussed in previous research.) Case Assignment and Agreement in Klingon One of the few areas where English preserves overt case is in its pronominal system. Klingon, on the other hand, appears not to observe case in the same way as English: as mentioned above, Klingon uses the same pronominal forms for what would be considered nominative and accusative cases. The pronoun jIH corresponds to both the nominative “I” and the accusative “me,” ghaH to nominative “he/she” and accusative “him/her,” etc. SuvwI’ vIlegh jIH Warrior I-him/her/it see I I see [the] Warrior. jIH mulegh SuvwI’ Me he/she/it see Warrior [The] Warrior sees me. There is no difference in form between pronouns used in what appears to be nominative case and those used in accusative case; when glossing pronouns it is customary to put them in the correct case for the target language, as I have done here, but I must stress that nothing changes in the Klingon source. Since Klingon verbs are also uninflected for case, I tentatively conclude that Klingon assigns case strictly by position within the sentence, a conclusion supported by (or perhaps that supports) the common understanding that the language has strict word order. Reflexives and reciprocals are handled in an entirely different manner from nominative and accusative pronouns, namely, by verbal suffixation rather than by an alternative pronominal form. The Type 1 verbal prefix -’egh indicates reflexive while -chuq indicates reciprocal; both require that the verb have a “no-object” prefix (jI-, bI-, 0-, ma- or Su-) attached. Thus, we obtain the following examples: jIlegh’egh I-no obj see reflexive I see myself. malegh’egh We-no obj see reflexive We see ourselves. maleghchuq We-no obj see reciprocal We see each other. One of the other case assignments in English is Genitive, where there are both an alternative pronominal form and an alternative wording. In Klingon, Genitive is indicated by Type 4 noun suffixes, which vary according to person, number, and sentience of the object being possessed: paqwIj book-mine paqlIj book-your paqmaj book-our puqwI’ child-mine puqlI’ child-your puqma’ child-our It is possible to use non-sentient suffixes with sentient arguments, but the usage is considered derogatory; to talk about someone’s puqlIj (child-your [non-sentient]) would be considered a grave insult. The genitive case can also be indicated by word order; however, unlike English, a preposition is not required . To speak of the “officer’s book,” Klingon would form a compound noun of the form possessor-possessed: yaS paq officer book yaS paq vIlegh officer book I-him/her/it see I see [the] officer’s book. Again I will pull in a comparison from Japanese, although this time the constructions are not quite so similar; indeed, the Japanese (which is normally considered to be very different from English and most other languages) is slightly closer to the English than to the Klingon: Kenji no hon Kenji [proper noun] poss book. Kenji’s book Kenji no hon wo mimasu. Kenji poss book obj see I see Kenji’s book. Here we see that Japanese inserts another particle, this time no, to indicate possession; it is placed between the possessor and the possessed, and is similar in function and usage to the English ’s construction. Conclusions From the data presented here, we can see that the syntax of Klingon is very different from that of English. Passivity basically does not exist; case is even less evident than in English; and theta-roles exist but apparently may be filled covertly rather than overtly, or may be filled via the agreement prefixes. These factors, coupled with Klingon’s agglutinative structure and Object-Verb-Subject word order, make it a truly “alien” language, but one which provides new insights into the structure of all languages, and perhaps what elements may be considered “universal” in terms of grammar. Works Cited Okrand, Marc. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1985. ---. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1992. Additional Works Consulted Bach, Emmon, and Robert T. Harms, eds. Universals in Linguistic Theory. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1968. Chomsky, Noam. Knowledge of Language. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1986. ---. Language and Thought. Wakefield (RI): 1993. Fromkin, Victoria, and Robert Rodman. An Introduction to Language. Orlando (FL): Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1988. Greenberg, Joseph H., ed. Universals of Human Language. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. Levine, Barry and Marc Okrand. “Power Klingon.” New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993. Murphy, Richard. Imaginary Worlds: Notes on a New Curriculum. New York: Virgil, 1974. Okrand, Marc. Conversational Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992. Ouhalla, Jamal. Introducing Transformational Grammar: from rules to principles and parameters. London: Edward Arnold, 1994. Prideaux, Gary Dean. The Syntax of Japanese Honorifics. The Hague: Mouton, 1970. Proechel, Glen F. "Forming Nouns From Verbs." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 9-10. ---. "Whither with -wI?" HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 7-9. Yaguello, Marina. Lunatic Lovers of Language. London: The Athlone Press, 1991. APPENDIX D HISTORY PAPER The Development of tlhIngan Hol Introduction In this paper I intend to briefly describe the artificial language tlhIngan Hol, discuss how it came to be created as highly different from English, and comment on how the language is developing now that it has become a living language. tlhIngan Hol is an artificial language created in the early 1980’s by linguist Marc Okrand . Unlike many other artificial languages, tlhIngan Hol was not created with the ideal of it becoming a “world language” like Esperanto; indeed, Okrand never expected anyone to really learn it at all. The language was designed to be part of the background of the movie Star Trek: The Search for Spock, the third movie in the ongoing Star Trek saga. The characters of the Klingons had been created back in the 1960’s as recurring villains for the original television series; they had spoken deep-pitched and gutteral English at that time, and a few seconds worth of grunts and monosyllabic gibberish had been subtitled as the language in the first movie in 1979. By the early 1980’s, however, executives at Paramount (the company which owns the rights to Star Trek) had decided that they wanted a consistent language for these enduring characters, and contracted Okrand to fill the void for them. Okrand began by listening to the “Klingon” spoken in the first movie and comparing it to the subtitles on screen. From this small sample he selected the phonemes he heard and began to map out the rules of the language’s grammar. Once he had finished and the new movie had been released, Paramount decided that the work should be published, so Okrand turned the little bit of material that he had into a full-sized grammar and dictionary, including cultural notes. This book was released in 1985; an updated edition, which included material from the next three Star Trek films and several seasons of the Star Trek: The Next Generation television series, was released in 1992. Interest in the Language Almost simultaneously with the re-issuance of The Klingon Dictionary (in January of 1992) was the founding of the Klingon Language Institute. From the inside cover of the first issue of the Institute’s journal, HolQeD, we learn that “The Klingon Language Institute and HolQeD exist to facilitate the scholarly exploration of Klingon language and culture.” In addition, in the opening article by director Lawrence Schoen, we learn that The KLI was created as an attempt to bring together in one place Klingon language enthusiasts who were separated by physical distances, differing fan affiliations, and simple ignorance of one another. This journal is intended to serve as a forum for our common interest in Klingon language and linguistics. Since 1992, approximately one thousand people have joined the organization. Simon & Schuster, the publishers of The Klingon Dictionary, claim that over a quarter of a million copies of TKD are in print , which gives some insight into the interest people have in this language. Admittedly, many members of the KLI own more than one copy of the text , but they certainly do not account for all 250,000 copies. Phonology When Okrand was devising the language, he deliberately tried to make it “alien,” especially from the point of view of a native (American) English speaker. The first thing a listener realizes upon hearing the language is that there are a number of sounds that English doesn’t have. Nearly half of the phonemic inventory of Klingon is made up of sounds that are difficult for English speakers to produce; however, Okrand was careful to choose phonemes that are all possible for humans. Every phoneme in Klingon occurs somewhere in the world in a natural language, but the entire set of phonemes is unique to this language. Klingon’s list of phonemes is as follows: five vowels, a, e, I, o, and u, and 21 consonants, b, ch, D, gh, H, j, l, m, n, ng, p, q, Q, r, S, t, tlh, v, w, y, and ’ (glottal stop). The vowels are familiar, as are the consonants b, ch, j, l, m, n, t, v, w, and y, and to a lesser extent the highly-aspirated p, the velar ng, and the trilled r. The rest of the consonants, however, give the language its “alien” quality. The D and S are retroflexed, in contrast to the alveolar t; the gh and H are velar fricatives, rather than a velar stop and a glottal glide, respectively. The q and Q are uvulars, the first a stop and the second an affricate, and despite the similar orthography they are not allophones of the same phoneme, but rather are two distinct phonemes. The tlh is a voiceless lateral affricate, similar to the [tl] in Aztec. The phoneme p is highly aspirated in all positions, unlike its English counterpart, which is only aspirated in initial position; ng can occur in either syllable-initial or syllable-final position, again, unlike English; and the r is trilled, similar to the “r” in Spanish or Italian. Also in the realm of phonology, Klingon syllable structure is much more strict than that of English. Although the details of the structure are still being debated by Klingon linguists, in general the syllable may be thought of as CV(C), where a syllable must begin with a single consonant, must contain a single vowel, and then may have a final consonant. (Debate going on on the KLI listserv during the month of October, 1995, as well as at other times ). The only time this rule is broken in the language is when the final consonant position is filled with the two-consonant cluster rgh. This contrasts with the highly variable syllable structure of English, in which the initial position may be filled by from zero to three consonants , the vowel position by zero to two vowels (zero if the semi-vowel “y” is used) , and the final position by from zero to three consonants. Syntax When setting up the syntax of the language, Okrand chose a word order that would also be “alien” to English speakers: Object-Verb-Subject. This makes speakers think twice about what they are saying or hearing, because it easily could be the reverse of what they think it is. For example, in English we could say, The boy kicks the captain. But in Klingon the sentence would properly be, HoD pup loDHom captain kick boy which could easily be mistaken for “The captain kicks the boy” by an English speaker who fails to remember the word order rules. In the above example, we can also notice a number of other differences between Klingon and English. First, Klingon lacks articles, both definite and indefinite, so the Klingon sentence could just as easily be translated into English as “A captain kicks the boy,” or “The captain kicks a boy,” or “A captain kicks a boy.” Context would have to provide the proper article(s) for the English translation. Second, the verb does not have a suffix which marks it for person and number, as the English third-person singular “kicks” does; instead, Klingon uses a system of verbal prefixes which encode both subject and object pronouns into a single syllable. In the case of a third-person singular subject and third-person singular object, such as we have in the above example with “captain” and “boy,” the prefix is a null term, therefore not appearing on the verb pup. These prefixes are summarized in the table below (adapted from TKD2, 33): s¯/o® none 1s 2s 3s 1p 2p 3p 1s jI- - qa- vI- - Sa- vI- 2s bI- cho- - Da- ju- - Da- 3s 0 mu- Du- 0 nu- lI- 0 1p ma- - pI- wI- - re- DI- 2p Su- tu- - bo- che- - bo- 3p 0 mu- nI- lu- nu- lI- 0 Dashes in the chart indicate subject/object pairs which are handled by suffixation (note that these are all reflexives); zeroes indicate a null prefix. If our example above had been “The boy kicks you,” the Klingon would have been Dupup loDHom, with the prefix Du- indicating a third-person singular subject with a second-person object. “You kick the boy” would be loDHom Dapup, with “the boy” moved into object position and with a new prefix (Da-) appended indicating second-person subject and third-person object. In either case the pronoun SoH (“you”) may be inserted into the proper position in the sentence, but it is considered redundant because the information is already encoded in the mandatory verbal prefix. This system of subject-object prefixes is both more complex and more compact than English, resulting in a very alien “feel” to the grammar for new speakers. In addition to the different word order in Klingon, Okrand designed the language so that the verb does not indicate tense, but only aspect. Past, present, or future are indicated by other methods in the language, such as adverbials of time or by context. Verbs also fill what would be considered adjectival roles if they were in English (i.e., there is no adjective “happy,” but there is a verb “to [be] happy”), and there is no “be” verb in Klingon. This seems very strange to English speakers at first, but makes a great deal of sense: after all, when verbs are filling adjective roles, there is no need for a copula. We would therefore render the English sentence, “The person is happy” by the Klingon construction Quch nuv, where there is a zero verbal prefix indicating third person subject/no object, Quch is the verb “be happy” (for lack of a better way of expressing it in English), and nuv is the noun “person.” We could translate this back into English as “Person happy,” but this does not get the point across that “happy” is a verb and not an adjective; rather, it just sounds like the verb has been left out of the sentence. However, a phrase such as “a happy person” can be rendered in Klingon by reversing the normal word order and placing the verb after the noun: nuv Quch [S/he is a] happy person. Quch nuv [The] person [is] happy. Note here, also, that Quch -- a verb -- can stand on its own as a complete sentence, something that verbs may only do in English if they are in command form, such as “Go!” This is because the Klingon verb, with its prefix (even if that prefix is a zero), fills all three “spaces” that are required for a Klingon sentence: Object (encoded in the prefix), Verb, and Subject (also encoded in the prefix). The English verb only manages to do this in the command form, where the subject (“I”) and the object (“you”) are both understood. The other use for a copula in English -- setting one noun “equal” to another -- is accomplished in Klingon simply by placing the two nouns (or noun and pronoun) next to each other: yaS jIH I am an officer. (Literally, “officer I”) Klingon has a verb which indicates existence, which takes care of another one of English’s major uses for the “be” verb, as is best demonstrated by the famous line from Hamlet, “To be, or not to be,” taH pagh taHbe’ where taH is a verb meaning “to continue, go on, endure,” pagh is the conjunction “or” when the conjunction is of two sentences (which this technically is, in Klingon grammar), and be’ is a verbal suffix meaning “negation.” Thus, the translation back to English becomes something like, “continue or continue-not.” Morphology Klingon morphology is radically different from English, in a number of ways. First, there is essentially no phonological variation within the language; only two phonemes in the language have allophones, and in one of those cases the pair of allophones are in complete free variation. In the other case, the allophone occurs in one very restricted environment. Addition of prefixes or suffixes in Klingon causes no change in pronunciation of either the root or the affixes, unlike English. For example, the English words “photograph” and “photography” have different stress patterns and differing pronunciations of the second and third vowels, thanks to the addition of the suffix “-y” on the second word. In Klingon, the addition of a suffix (or prefix) never alters the pronunciation of the stem, nor is there any assimilation between syllables to cause changes in pronunciation. The only “exception” to this rule that one may claim is that, in the case of two glottal stops appearing next to each other, such as in Ho’’oy’ “toothache,” usually only one of the glottal stops will be heard. Lexicon Klingon vocabulary is “alien” to English speakers, in more than its sound structure. For example, in English we have a stem “agree” to which any of several affixes may be attached: dis-agree, agree-able, etc. We consider the “positive” term “agree” to be the unmarked term, and a “negative” term such as “disagree” to be a marked term. In Klingon, just the opposite occurs: the unmarked term is “disagree” (Qoch), which must be marked with a negative suffix (-be’) in order to yield “agree” (literally, “not-disagree”). This same phenomenon occurs over and over in Klingon; just a few of the unmarked terms gloss as “disable,” “disappear,” “discourage,” “dishonest,” “unconscious,” “unimportant,” “uninhabited,” “uninteresting,” and “unprocessed.” Of course, this is not true for every single marked/unmarked pair in Klingon and English, but it does occur with enough frequency to bear noting. It also brings up questions about the Klingon world view -- do they expect disagreement more often than agreement, etc.? These questions are, however, beyond the scope of this paper. One other interesting note about Klingon vocabulary is that, when he was creating it, Marc Okrand slipped a number of “jokes” in that make the most sense if you are a native speaker of American English. The most famous of these jokes is the word for “tribble,” which is a small, furry creature that humans (and most other species) love, but which all Klingons instinctively abhor. The Klingon term for these little furballs is yIH, which sounds suspiciously like the sound an American makes when confronted by something s/he doesn’t like. The word for “hurt” is ’oy’, which also makes sense to most English speakers (especially if they are at all aquainted with Yiddish), as does tlhutlh for “to drink,” ’ugh for “be heavy,” and paw’ for “collide.” The Klingon-Speaking Community One of the difficulties that the Klingon-speaking world has to deal with is the notion of “canon,” or “authorized,” Klingon. This is a very messy issue, one that is not easily explained to an “outsider” who is not involved with the language community. First of all, there are more Klingon languages than just tlhIngan Hol, the most noted of these being klingonaase, which was invented by novelist John Ford. Most people, though, when they speak of “the Klingon language,” are referring to Marc Okrand’s tlhIngan Hol. Since tlhIngan Hol has not existed throughout the history of Star Trek, however, one will hear spoken words which do not technically come out of that language. Nevertheless, anything that appears (and makes it to be aired ) in a Star Trek episode or film is considered “canon” Star Trek and must at least be considered by the speakers of tlhIngan Hol. (In addition, anything which Marc Okrand says, since he is the creator of the language and considered to be its “final authority,” is considered “canon” tlhIngan Hol.) Although this sounds like a good way to keep the language growing, it in fact becomes a major problem: if an actor mangles his lines (or, worse yet, just shouts out sounds without ever attempting to learn what those sounds might mean in the language), the speakers of tlhIngan Hol will at least try to “fit” the nonsense into the language. Indeed, this is what Okrand himself did when he first wrote The Klingon Dictionary; he speaks in some detail about the multitude of different dialects in tlhIngan Hol, and tells us that the “official” dialect changes every time a new Emperor comes into power. This was the easiest way to explain the different sounds that would get subtitled as the same word or phrase. Thus, each time a new episode of any Star Trek airs which has Klingons in it, Hol speakers carefully videotape it and comb it for bits of the language. Often, as happened in the recent 2-hour Deep Space Nine production “The Way of the Warrior,” most of the “Klingon” being spoken doesn’t make much sense, and Hol speakers debate for days or weeks afterward what was said and how or whether to incorporate these new words into the existing language. In terms of the speaker population today, there is only one tlhIngan Hol rather than several dialects-- or at least they’re trying to keep it that way. The most active group of speakers is composed of those people who use the language on a regular basis to converse over the Internet. As a result of becoming a “living” language to these people, Klingon began to grow a few years ago; new vocabulary was being added, new grammatical constructions were being used. However, the speakers on the ‘net realized that if they were to continue to allow the language to change unchecked, new speakers, who only had the paper copy of TKD to work with, would not be able to understand this new “dialect” of Klingon which was developing, and would therefore be either forced to learn the new dialect or go elsewhere in search of speakers of the language. Therefore, a conscious decision was made to restrict the growth of the language; speakers must work with what they have been given in Okrand’s TKD, “Conversational Klingon,” “Power Klingon,” and occasional “decrees.” Roughly once per year, the Klingon Language Institute presents a “wish-list” to Okrand, in which they ask him to address the grammatical questions that no one has been able to answer, and petition for new vocabulary items (usually with an English gloss ). Okrand’s answers are then disseminated to the KLI membership, who add them to their copies of the Dictionary. In this way, the language may still grow, but like any language which has an Academy to oversee it, it does not grow helter-skelter. Speakers are encouraged to use paraphrastic constructions and other descriptive devices rather that creating new words, and grammatical usage is corrected (on the Internet, at least) by a small group of advanced speakers known as “Grammarians.” These corrections are always performed politely, with the intention being that everyone should learn from the corrections and avoid confusion due to individual innovation in the syntax and vocabulary. It is also common practice to debate these corrections, sometimes for days or even weeks, so that everyone may thoroughly understand the logic behind the usage. When a speaker is totally at a loss for a way to express something, s/he is encouraged to simply use the English term (or word from another language) within the Klingon sentence, preceding it with an asterisk to draw attention to the fact that it is not a Klingon term. “Unofficial” Klingon terms -- ones which have been used repeatedly and consistently within the Star Trek television series, but do not actually appear in TKD, are marked with a tilde rather than with an asterisk. Two Universes One very important fact that must be kept in mind when studying Klingon in almost any way is that there are, so to speak, two “universes” or “realities” in which this language exists. One is the “mundane,” or “real,” world where linguists study both naturally-occurring and artificially-constructed languages, and where Klingon is simply an artificial language created not too long ago. The other reality is that of the Star Trek universe; here, through suspension of disbelief, Klingons exist and have a culture to study as well as a language. When one reads Okrand’s Klingon Dictionary, one must suspend disbelief from the very moment the Introduction begins, for it is written from the point of view of a sociolinguist working with a native informant. When one chooses to look at Klingon from a historiolinguistic point of view (as, for example, Allan Wechsler does in his 1992 article, “First Steps Toward a Phonological Theory of Klingon,”) one has already made the choice to look at it as if it is a language that has existed, within a culture, for centuries or millennia, not merely for a decade or two. This choice may apply also to questions of vocabulary (“Why doesn’t Klingon have any pleasantries?”), semantics (“What makes a joke funny in Klingon?” or, “How are metaphors constructed?” or, “What kinds of wordplay exist in the language?”), and morphology (“Why would Klingon have a morpheme indicating ‘honor’?”), just to name a few. As Walter Meyers, in his 1980 work “Aliens and Linguists,” so aptly phrased it, The best writers of science fiction take special pains to provide us with these new perspectives. It is only in bad science fiction that the alien being acts like a costumed human, differing from the familiar only in appearance. In the hands of the masters of the genre we are constantly reminded through the use of new terms, new metaphors, and the very turns of phrase that our accustomed ways of thinking are not the only ones. Gaining these “new perspectives” is exactly the reason we study foreign languages, other cultures, and even the history of our own language -- to teach us new ways of thinking and understanding the world. For speakers of Klingon, this is a way of looking anew at their own world through the eyes of an alien -- and, perhaps, a way of discovering how to better that world. Works Cited Barron, David. “An Interview with Marc Okrand.” HolQeD 1.2 (1992), 10-15. Meyers, Walter E. Aliens and Linguists: Language Study and Science Fiction. Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 1980. Okrand, Marc. The Klingon Dictionary. New York: Pocket, 1992. (Indicated in references as "TKD2.") Schoen, Lawrence. “Okrand’s Jokes.” HolQeD 1.2 (1992), 6-9. ---. “Interview: Mark Lenard, The First Klingon Speaker.” HolQeD 4.3 (1995), 10-12. Wechsler, Allan C. “First Steps Toward a Phonological Theory of Klingon.” HolQeD 1.1 (1992), 3-10. Additional Works Consulted Appleyard, Anthony. "Is -ghagh allowed on simple verbs?" HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 20. Beesley, Kenneth R. "Klingon Two-Level Morphology, Part I - Nouns." HolQeD 1.2 (1992): 16-24. ---. "Klingon Morphology, Part Two - Verbs." HolQeD 1.3 (1992): 10-18. Bybee, Joan. Morphology: A Study of the Relation Between Meaning and Form. Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1985. "Great Affix Contest, The." HolQeD 1:3 (1992): 3. Greenberg, Joseph H., ed. Universals of Human Language. Stanford (CA): Stanford University Press, 1978. "Interview: Okrand on -ghach." HolQeD 3.3 (1994): 10-13. Krankor, Captain. "The Continuing -ghach Controversy." HolQeD 3.1 (1994): 8-9. ---. "From the Grammarian's Desk." HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 3-6. Levine, Barry and Marc Okrand. Power Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993. Okrand, Marc. Conversational Klingon. New York: Simon & Schuster,1992. Proechel, Glen F. "Forming Nouns From Verbs." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 9-10. ---. "Whither with -wI?" HolQeD 3.4 (1994): 7-9. Schoen, Lawrence M. "Some Comments on Orthography." HolQeD 1.1 (1992): 18-20. Shoulson, Mark. "Tense, Aspect, and Simultaneity in tlhIngan Hol." HolQeD 2.4 (1993): 11-13. Since upper-case and lower-case are used in Klingon to distinguish phonemes rather than such concepts as “proper noun” and “beginning of sentence,” this sentence properly begins with a lower-case letter. About the creator of the language: Marc Okrand has his PhD in linguistics from the University of California at Berkeley. He has taught linguistics, worked at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., and is now with the National Captioning Institute in Washington, D.C.. Among other projects, he is currently working on the Vulcan language. HolQeD 1.2, 10-15. Note that what Okrand “heard” and what the actor performing the lines “heard” are two different phoneme sets. For example, the sound “z” is definitely in heavy use in that early sample, yet Okrand chose not to include that sound in his version of Klingon. HolQeD 4.3, 10-12. HolQeD literally means “language science,” or “linguistics.” Information on KLI membership and copies of TKD in print provided by Dr. Lawrence Schoen, director of the KLI, via private e-mail communication, 21 October 1995. I personally own three -- one copy of the first edition and two of the expanded second edition. For more information on any subject discussed on the KLI listserv, ftp to the KLI website and search the archives. Address: http://www.kli.org Zero consonants if the syllable begins with a vowel; three consonants if it begins with the cluster “str” as in “string.” Three consonants as in the word “worst.” lodHom = literally “man-diminutive” This translation obviously comes from a particular interpretation of Hamlet’s famous question, namely whether he intends to continue his life or not. This same interpretation was used to create the original translation from English to Klingon, which was yIn pagh yInbe’, or “live or live-not.” This first translation was discarded by the actor playing the part of the Klingon who said this line, because he thought it didn’t “sound Klingon enough.” The verb taH was then created on the spot to fill the void and make the actor happy. The phoneme /I/ has as an allophone [i]; either may be used in any position. The phoneme /r/ has as an allophone an American-English-like approximant when it occurs right before the consonant /gh/. This consonant cluster (rgh) is also the only consonant cluster allowed to occur within a single syllable in the language. This statement is true of “properly pronounced” Klingon; however, native English speakers do have problems with assimilation effecting pronunciation, due to transfer from English. See Appendix A for additional information on phonology. Okrand, 46. There are 24 regular (non-imperative) prefixes, plus a zero morpheme, for a total of 30; in addition, there are 6 different imperative prefixes. The reader may also wish to consult my 1995 paper on “Klingon Verbal Morphology and Zero Morphemes,” included with this document as Appendix B. If these words don’t seem to make sense to you, or to be at all humorous, perhaps you are reading silently; try saying them aloud. HolQeD 1.2, 6. This may seem like a trivial distinction, but it is considered important by the speakers of the language; if a segment of Klingon is filmed, but later cut and not aired, that segment does not fall within “canon” and cannot (officially) be adopted into the language. This has, historically, been the attitude of Hol speakers; however, in recent months this attitude is dying away slowly because it is now widely known that Okrand is not fluent in the language, therefore he often makes mistakes. Hol speakers still take anything that Okrand says or publishes as “canon” initially, but they no longer hesitate to debate it and possibly discard it if it appears to be too much at odds with the rest of the language. “The Way of the Warrior” was the season premiere for the 1995-96 season of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine; it aired in the Phoenix, AZ, market on October 8, 1995. As of the summer of 1995, however, the KLI is officially licensed by Paramount. The Institute is offering free translation of Klingon for any scripts that are to be shot, with a guarantee of 24-hour turnaround time so that shooting is not delayed. The Institute and its members are hoping that this will encourage Paramount to encorporate “real” Hol into future episodes, rather than continuing the practice of allowing actors to speak gibberish whenever they do not have to speak English. For example, this past year the KLI received, among many other words, the Klingon word for “coffee” - - qavIn. Needless to say, this may be a borrowing from English, albeit by a rather circuitous route; it can definitely be considered as another one of Okrand’s jokes. Okrand also occasionally writes articles for the KLI, which are published in the Institute’s journal. The most recent of these is “More from Maltz,” HolQeD 4.4, 11-12. An example of this is the word ~makbara, which is a term for a form of martial art, similar to T’ai Chi. The tilde also often indicates that since speakers have either never seen the word in print or are working from obviously incorrect print, that the spelling is questionable: witness the “k” in ~makbara, when Hol has no “k.” Meyers, 9. TKD2 24. Remember that verbs and adjectives are considered to be the same thing in tlhIngan Hol. Shoen, et al, 20. Throughout this paper, I will shorten the television series titles Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine to Next Generation and Deep Space Nine respectively. If I need to abbreviate them, the abbreviations will be NG and DS9 respectively. Kahless is the major mytho-religious figure in Klingon culture; he will be described in more detail below. In the next episode we will address, “Way of the Warrior,” another Klingon talks about, “...great deeds: deeds worthy of song!” which again underlines the importance of story and song in transmitting the culture. In an earlier episode in the series, “Loud as a Whisper,” we learn that the Klingon language has only had a word for “peacemaker” for a relatively short time (less than two generations). Unfortunately, the Laws are not quoted specifically, so I cannot analyze them here. This is a different attitude than K’mtar displayed with Alexander in “Firstborn,” where he dismissed Alexander’s attempts to learn by questioning; however, we do not know if this was due to a) K’mtar’s underlying desire to force Alexander to change; b) real educational attitudes in the Klingon culture; and/or c) Worf’s differing attitude due to his exposure to Humans. So’wI’ ta’ = cloaking-device finished = “Cloaking device off.” A cloaking device is a machine which causes a ship or other large object to become invisible both to the naked eye and to electronic sensing devices. Note that throughout this episode, some actors attempt to use Hol but pronounce it badly (Martok, Dax, Gowron), some use the language and at least attempt to pronounce it correctly (Worf), while others just seem to say whatever comes into their heads (other unnamed Klingons). Any time an utterance seemed to be in Hol, I transcribed and attempted to translate it. An ongoing theme in the DS9 cycle is that the Dominion (a group of races from the Gamma Quadrant) is trying to infiltrate and take over civilizations in the Alpha Quadrant (such as the Cardassians, Klingons, Romulans, and Federation.) The leaders of the Dominion are known variously as the Founders, Changelings, or Shapeshifters; the main military arm of the Dominion are the Jem’Hadar. Odo, the head of security on Deep Space Nine, is a Changeling who was abandoned at “birth” and raised by Cardassians as an experimental subject; he now works for the Bajorans and with the Federation, which means he works against “his” people, the Founders. A quick test to see if someone is a Changeling is to draw blood from them; if it remains blood, the person is not a Changeling, but if the drops turn silvery and move about on their own, looking much like animate mercury, then the person is a Changeling. The italics in this and subsequent quotes indicates heavy stress. SoHvaD = you intended-for = “This is for you.” I have heard through the KLI discussion group on the internet that the novelization of this episode has this line translated as, “Yes, but I’m better looking.” So far I can’t totally agree with this translation, even though it makes perfect sense in the context; my translation of what I hear in the tape comes out closer to “Correct, but I was able to become empty,” which makes little sense. As in many other situations, I feel that we’re running into the problem of scriptwriters who don’t pay very careful attention when they try to write tlhIngan Hol into the scripts, and actors who then don’t pronounce what they’re given correctly. The teasing situation with Dax will continue, both in this episode and in later ones. At the time of this writing the relationship between Dax and Worf is still developing in the series. It should also be noted here that Dax was, in her previous life, a male by the name of Curzon who made many friends in the Klingon Empire. Jadzia Dax has continued in the Klingon tradition, but being female she must prove herself more often to other Klingons. The mek’leth is a smaller bladed weapon than the bat’leth; we will see Worf use it in upcoming scenes. Members of the KLI have debated what the word “means,” but have been unable to come up with a translation; the attempt was made because the bat’leth is usually translated into Hol as either betleH (“bladed weapon”) or batlh’etlh (“honor sword”), and Hol speakers initially assumed that the smaller weapon’s name would also translate. “Dak’tag” is a television term for the ceremonial daggar all Klingons carry; it is, like “mek’leth” and “mak’bara,” a word which is used by KLI and other Klingon speakers, but acknowledged as being something other than “canon” Hol. Note, first, that “bat’leth” is the common spelling/pronunciation for this weapon in the episodes, but that it is more commonly referred to as a betleH or batlh’etlh by Hol speakers (see previous Note). Secondly, note that when Dax gives the command to the computer, it produces 2 weapons; since nouns in Hol are inherently neither singular nor plural, the computer makes an intelligent choice of number based on the number of people present. Due to Worf’s tone of voice at this point, I theorize that he may be quoting an old proverb, possibly one with which he does not agree. It is quite possible that he is providing a reason for the behavior of the other Klingons. Whether or not Worf agrees with the sentiment, it does provide a connection between the Life is War and Honor is Life metaphors. In the NG episode “Sins of the Father,” Worf mentions that if his father is convicted (posthumously) of treason, the dishonor will stain the entire family line for seven generations. In addition, in the later DS9 episode “Sons of Mogh,” we learn that Worf’s decision to oppose Gowron (to save his personal honor) results in the loss of honor of his house and family. When a Ferengi dies, his soul has to go through the “Great Reckoning” (an audit) before he has the chance to pass into the “Great Latinum Vault.” (Latinum is the 24th Century’s most precious metal, used as currency much as gold is today. This compares fairly neatly to the popular Christian ideas of being “judged” before being allowed into “heaven,” or the idea proposed in the Egyptian “Book of the Dead” in which the dead person’s heart is weighed against a feather. The Klingon language distinguishes between Animate, Inanimate, and Sentient, rather than simply Animate and Inanimate as English does. Klingons seem to define Sentient (at least for the purposes of their language) as “a being capable of using language.” There is another suicide ritual in Klingon society, one reserved for Warriors who have been injured and are no longer able to care for themselves; it is referred to in the Next Generation episode “Ethics.” In this case, the Warrior’s honor is already in good standing; if he goes through with the ritual, he is preserving his honor by not becoming a burden to his family. In most cases, the ritual is performed on the battlefield, when a Warrior has fought with honor and been cut down by his opponents, but not killed; the alternative is to merely die of “natural causes,” which will simply take a little longer to happen. In the NG episode “Sins of the Father,” Worf accepts Discommendation from the Klingon High Council; this is a stain on his personal honor which will continue to his heirs for seven generations, unless it is lifted by the Council at some future date (which it is, several years later). Although not specifically mentioned by Okrand in his list of “ideals of Klingon behavior,” I would argue that Brevity is indeed a fifth virtue; among other pieces of evidence, I would cite the fact that Klingons abhor “small talk” and consider it a sign of duplicity at worst, simply superfluous at best. This is the example given in “Conversational Klingon;” Okrand urges off-worlders to be sure to use the suffixes indicating “sureness” and “definiteness” in their transactions with shopkeepers. In fact, most speakers of Hol are not Trek fans, and discussion of a purely Trek nature (rather than specifically Klingon) is banned from the KLI listserv. January, 1996. Remember that [Q] in Klingon is a uvular affricate, a sound which is difficult for most native speakers of English to produce. And I hope that this extended period of time with no Klingon input does not harm his acquisition of the language. For more information on any subject discussed on the KLI listserv, ftp to the KLI website and search the archives. Address: http:\\www.kli.org Zero consonants if the syllable begins with a vowel; three consonants if it begins with the cluster “str” as in “string.” Zero vowels such as “vocalic m” in the word “rhythm.” Three consonants as in the word “worst.” I personally remember growing up in an area of the country where "Tijuana" was pronounced with a /w/, "Baja" with an /h/, "Bach" with a /k/, and Yiddish was totally unknown. Thus, had I not had some more advanced training in languages before I got to TKD, I would have been completely at a loss to figure out what sound Okrand was referring to in this description. This "problem" really occurs because many Klingon names beginning with "k" and "kr" were used in the original Star Trek television series of the 1960’s; when Okrand created the Klingon language in the 1980’s, he had to come up with some explanation of why people had been hearing names for nearly two decades that supposedly couldn’t exist in the language. That doesn’t mean that an English speaker might not "hear" some other sound, such as "sh," in place of these unfamiliar phonemes. Remember throughout this paper that the category “verb” in Klingon includes everything that would be considered “adjective” in English; adjectives and verbs are structured and treated the same way. Note, however, that the verb/adjective is placed after the noun, not before it, which is to be expected since Klingon is a head-final language. In the previous example, the verb was in its normal position in the complete sentence; this example is merely a phrase rather than a complete sentence. Note also that when the suffix -lu’ is used, the subject and object meanings of the verbal prefix are switched if and only if the prefix subject is vI- or lu-. Okrand, 180. Klingon does not distinguish by gender, but it does make a distinction between sentient and non- sentient, as well as singular versus plural. Therefore there are separate pronouns for “they” depending on whether the argument is capable of using language or not (the Klingon definition of “sentient”). Besides, Klingon doesn’t have prepositions like English does. Since upper-case and lower-case are used in Klingon to distinguish phonemes rather than such concepts as “proper noun” and “beginning of sentence,” this sentence properly begins with a lower-case letter. About the creator of the language: Marc Okrand has his PhD in linguistics from the University of California at Berkeley. He has taught linguistics, worked at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., and is now with the National Captioning Institute in Washington, D.C.. Among other projects, he is currently working on the Vulcan language. HolQeD 1.2, 10-15. Note that what Okrand “heard” and what the actor performing the lines “heard” are two different phoneme sets. For example, the sound “z” is definitely in heavy use in that early sample, yet Okrand chose not to include that sound in his version of Klingon. HolQeD 4.3, 10-12. Information on KLI membership and copies of TKD in print provided by Dr. Lawrence Schoen, director of the KLI, via private e-mail communication, 21 October 1995. I personally own three -- one copy of the first edition and two of the expanded second edition. For more information on any subject discussed on the KLI listserv, ftp to the KLI website and search the archives. Address: http:\\www.kli.org Zero consonants if the syllable begins with a vowel; three consonants if it begins with the cluster “str” as in “string.” Zero vowels such as in the word “rhythm.” Three consonants as in the word “worst.” lodHom = literally “man-diminutive” This deletion of pronouns is very similar to pro-drop in other languages such as Spanish. This translation obviously comes from a particular interpretation of Hamlet’s famous question, namely whether he intends to continue his life or not. This same interpretation was used to create the original translation from English to Klingon, which was yIn pagh yInbe’, or “live or live-not.” This first translation was discarded by the actor playing the part of the Klingon who said this line, because he thought it didn’t “sound Klingon enough.” The verb taH was then created on the spot to fill the void and make the actor happy. The phoneme [I] has as an allophone [i]; either may be used in any position. The phoneme [r] has as an allophone an American-English-like approximant when it occurs right before the consonant [gh]. This consonant cluster (rgh) is also the only consonant cluster allowed to occur within a single syllable in the language. This statement is true of “properly pronounced” Klingon; however, native English speakers do have problems with assimilation effecting pronunciation, due to transfer from English. See my earlier paper on “Phonological Problems in tlhIngan-Hol.” If these words don’t seem to make sense to you, or to be at all humorous, perhaps you are reading silently; try saying them aloud. HolQeD 1.2, 6. This may seem like a trivial distinction, but it is considered important by the speakers of the language; if a segment of Klingon is filmed, but later cut and not aired, that segment does not fall within “canon” and cannot (officially) be adopted into the language. “The Way of the Warrior” was the season premiere for the 1995-96 season of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine; it aired in the Phoenix, AZ, market on October 8, 1995. As of the summer of 1995, however, the KLI is officially licensed by Paramount. The Institute is offering free translation of Klingon for any scripts that are to be shot, with a guarantee of 24-hour turnaround time so that shooting is not delayed. The Institute and its members are hoping that this will encourage Paramount to encorporate “real” Hol into future episodes, rather than continuing the practice of allowing actors to speak gibberish whenever they do not have to speak English. For example, this past year the KLI received, among many other words, the Klingon word for “coffee” - - qavIn. Needless to say, this must be a borrowing from English, albeit by a rather circuitous route. An example of this is the word ~makbara, which is a term for a form of martial art, similar to T’ai Chi. The tilde also often indicates that since speakers have either never seen the word in print or are working from obviously incorrect print, that the spelling is questionable: witness the “k” in ~makbara, when Hol has no “k.” Meyers, 9. 20 73 93 108 127 127