As formulated by Saussure, a linguistic sign is the combination of the sound pattern of the word (the signifier) and the mental concept which it invokes (the signified). The connection between the two is purely arbitrary, or conventional; there is no intrinsic connection between the sound pattern and the concept being signified. We have discussed already how sounds and thus the sound pattern of a signifier can change over time: processes like assimilation, metathesis, reduction, and so on. Now we will see how the conceptual referents (the signified) can change.<\/p>\n
A current example of how the concept referred to by a particular sound pattern can change can be seen in the word “literally.” For some speakers, this word means “non-figuratively,” while for others it now can mean the exact opposite, as in a sentence like \u201cMy head literally exploded.\u201d For some people today this sentence makes no sense, since it violates the meaning they ascribe to the sound pattern “literally.” Others, however, accept this new usage of “literally.” simply because many people now use it this way. Once you grant that the connection between the sound pattern [l\u026at\u0259r\u0259li] and the concept it signifies, whether “non-figuratively” or “figuratively,” is conventional and arbitrary, then you must grant that either meaning is allowable if there is a group of speakers who have agreed upon the conventional connection between the two. In fact, this change is not even a new one: English speakers have been using the sound pattern [l\u026at\u0259r\u0259li] to signify “non-figuratively” for several centuries, since we can find examples of it being used as far back as the 1700\u2019s. If you are speaking from a personal point of view as a speaker of English, then you are free either to accept or not accept that usage in your own version of English. But you know that the reason you do not accept it is not because of any supposed violation of the word\u2019s etymology, since we violate the etymological meanings of words in almost every sentence we utter. The same goes for other \u201ccommonly misused words\u201d such as “irregardless,” “disinterested,” “ironic,” which of course, are not \u201cmisused\u201d at all.<\/p>\n
Generalization and specialization<\/strong> (also called widening and narrowing): It is quite common for us to \u201cnarrow\u201d the scope of meaning of a particular word. A common example for this is the word “corn.” In Old English it could refer to any type of grain at all, a fairly wide meaning. It was eventually narrowed to mean \u201cwheat\u201d specifically. Today, in the U.S., it refers only to a specific type of plant, elsewhere called \u201cmaize.\u201d Another food term that has narrowed its meaning is the word “meat,” which in Old English referred to any sort of food at all (except liquids). Today, it is used to refer specifically to what was once called \u201cflesh\u201d (as it still is in German, Fleisch). The word “flesh” has also narrowed in some uses to refer only to the skin.<\/p>\n Somewhat less common is \u201cgeneralization,\u201d or \u201cwidening,\u201d where the referents become less specific. One example is the Old English compound bere-\u00e6rn, \u201cbarley-building.\u201d This is Modern English \u201cbarn,\u201d a word that can refer to buildings that hold much more than simply barley. We also tend to take certain brand names and generalize them. \u201cBand-Aid\u201d can refer to any sort of adhesive bandage, and \u201cKleenex\u201d can refer to any number of \u201ctissues,\u201d not only those made by Kleenex.<\/p>\n Amelioration and pejoration<\/strong><\/p>\n This shift is not necessarily one of a change in the denotation of the word (i.e., the literal object or concept it refers to), but in the connotation, that is, the associations or feelings the word implies. Take the word “lewd,” for example. In Old English it simply referred to someone who had not been taught to read Latin, i.e., the uneducated, and thus it referred to the majority of the population. Today, it refers to someone who is crude, often sexually. On the other hand, the word “cniht” in Old English meant a \u201cboy\u201d or even a “servant.” Today, as the word “knight,” it has much more positive connotations of heroism and chivalry.<\/p>\n Intensification, whether strengthening or weakening<\/strong><\/p>\n The word “awesome” is a common example of weakening. It used to mean something that was capable of inspiring awe, and was often used to describe various deities or religious experiences. This would be true of the word today if you are describing a view of the Grand Canyon, but if you are describing the latest episode of some sit-com, the meaning has been someone weakened. Another example is the word “soon,” which in Old English meant \u201cimmediately,\u201d but now could be several hours away if not longer. Many curse words have also undergone weakening. Few people today who say \u201cDamn it\u201d are really thinking of confining whatever object to eternal hellfire. It is much rarer to find examples of strengthening. One is the word “decimate.” Its root is from Latin decem, meaning “ten,” and it originally meant to destroy only one-tenth of something or kill one-tenth of the people. In fact, it often meant “to tithe,” which is giving one-tenth of one\u2019s income to the church. Today, to decimate means to destroy something completely.<\/p>\n Transfer of meaning<\/strong><\/p>\n This is a large category and includes metonymy<\/strong>, synecdoche<\/strong>, metaphor<\/strong>, abstraction<\/strong>, and concretization<\/strong>. Synecdoche is when we refer to something by just a part of it, for example, calling a sword a \u201cblade,\u201d or an old person a \u201cgraybeard,\u201d or a car \u201cwheels.\u201d Metonymy is similar, but instead of referring to an object by something which is physically attached to it, we refer to it by something with which it is associated. Thus, the press might report an announcement by the Pentagon or the White House, when they mean the military or the president; or someone might refer to executives as \u201csuits.\u201d We also use metaphor quite often in our speech; for example, we metaphorically refer to the parts of the table that hold it up as the \u201cleg,\u201d and we speak of the \u201chands\u201d of a clock. Some words have lost their original meanings and only preserved the metaphorical one, such as “ridge,” which originally referred to the back of a person but was metaphorically extended to the crest of a mountain range, since it looks like the bumps of the spine. (We also use “spine” to refer to the back of a book, and to refer to the spine of a person’s body, since the bumps looked like spines, that is, thorns sticking up from the skin). Other metaphorical transfers of meaning involve abstraction, such as using the word \u201cgrasp\u201d to mean \u201ccomprehend\u201d a concept rather than to grab something with one\u2019s hands. Metaphorical concretization is less common. One example would be \u201cspectacles,\u201d referring to glasses with which you view some type of show, rather than the show itself.<\/p>\n Taboo or euphemistic alterations<\/strong><\/p>\n Finally, words can often change because they are thought to refer to something to which it is best not to refer. Common semantic fields in which this occur are related to death, sex, and bathroom\u2014bathroom itself, a room with a bathtub in it, or for bathing, is a euphemism for toilet, which originally meant a cloth with which a woman would cover her dressing table. In Old English one way to refer to a toilet was gangsetl, literally, a \u201cseat on which one would \u2018go\u2019.\u201d There are numerous non-literal ways to say \u201cdie\u201d or \u201cto have sex with.\u201d It is in fact hard to trace the origins of a number of such words, since the monks who were the only ones to write in the Old English period apparently thought they were taboo words as well. The word \u201cdie\u201d does not appear in Old English at all; they most commonly refer to people as \u201cgoing forth\u201d or “lying down.” There are several words in Old English for sexual intercourse, but the one known euphemistically today as \u201cthe F-word\u201d does not appear; however, scholars assume it must have existed then. <\/p>\n The categories above are not set in stone. Words may change their meanings in multiple ways, and it may be difficult to determine which particular type of change a word has undergone. Nevertheless, such categories reveal to us that words do not change in entirely random ways. As you think about words whose meanings have changed, you should think about why they have changed, or are in the process of change. How are these changes influenced by the culture in which we live? The notion of taboo words, for example, can be extended far beyond words for bodily functions (whether dying, sex or elimination of waste). <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Methods of Semantic Change As formulated by Saussure, a linguistic sign is the combination of the sound pattern of the word (the signifier) and the mental concept which it invokes (the signified). The connection between the two is purely arbitrary, or conventional; there is no intrinsic connection between the sound pattern and the concept being […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":6,"menu_order":4,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-175","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/175","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=175"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/175\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":176,"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/175\/revisions\/176"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/rusche.faculty.unlv.edu\/hel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=175"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}