The ambivalence of Canadian English spelling, which recognizes both British orthodoxy and Noah Webster’s innovations, is one of the many indicators of Canada’s role as a half-way house between Europe and the United States. Unlike the latter, which cut itself off from its European roots and has not infrequently drifted towards isolationism, Canada has maintained strong links with both Britain and France. This situation is reflected in the study and teaching of linguistics in Canadian universities. Stemming from the British, French, and American traditions, there is considerable diversity of theoretical position, which can be a great strength insofar as it leads to a dialectic, to a tolerance of others’ prejudices and a willingness to smile at one’s own. The dialectic—the push and pull of argument between different points of view—can also lead to a better understanding of the various schools of linguistics (including one’s own), and how they differ.

Ces lignes de Louis Havet, qui datent de 1919, posent, on ne peut plus clairement, le problème dont nous nous proposons de traiter. Quoique G. Guillaume se soit beaucoup intéressé, surtout dans ses Leçons de linguistique des années 1938–39 et 1949–50B à la question du genre en français, il n’a jamais abordé directement le sujet particulier auquel l’invitait Louis Havet. Il nous semble malgré tout, ce que nous espérons montrer, que ce problème peut se traiter à partir des oppositions fondamentales posées par G. Guillaume entre, d’une part, langue et discours, et, d’autre part, psychisme et sémiologie.

Une des difficultés majeures qu’est appelée à rencontrer sur sa route une linguistique visant à expliquer le langage en tant que phénomène est d’apprendre à opérer partout, dans ses analyses, la répartition exacte du possible et du réel. C’est, du reste, à leur impuissance à vaincre cette difficulté, qu’il faut imputer les insuccès répétés, à date ancienne, de la grammaire générale, et, à date plus récente, de la linguistique curieusement appelée ‘structurale.’ Comme si toute connaissance scientifique d’un phénomène quelconque—ce phénomène fût-il le langage humain—ne devait pas être, par nécessité, structurale! A-t-on jamais éprouvé le besoin, du côté des sciences de la nature ou de leur indispensable instrument d’investigation que sont les mathématiques, de parler d’une ‘physique structurale,’ d’une ‘chimie structurale,’ d’une ‘biologie structurale,’ ou encore d’une ‘mathématique structurale’? Tant il est évident aux yeux des praticiens de l’un ou l’autre de ces savoirs établis que l’adjonction à leur désignation de l’épithète en cause constituerait plus qu’une simple redondance: une véritable tautologie.

An aspect of the unravelling debate between proponents of ‘abstract’ phonology and ‘natural’ phonology focuses on the role of diachrony in justifying one’s descriptions and in underpinning one’s theories (insofar as they are meant to explain and predict). As a phonetologist who has no theoretical predilections for either transformational generative phonology (TGP) or Hooper’s natural generative phonology (NGP), my viewpoint leads me to view some of the issues raised in Piggott 1980, and in Hooper 1980 which replies to it, as either side-stepping what seem to me to be more fundamental issues or as addressing the issues discussed obliquely instead of head on. Although the fundamental position of developmental linguistics (or lectology) has been clarified at length in other writings, there may be some profit in making those points concrete in direct connection with an actual debate over an actual analysis. Piggott argues against the adequacy of Hooper’s NGP with data taken from Algonquin-Ojibwa. He contrasts Ojibwa nouns that exhibit the deletion of word-final glide plus lax vowel (e.g. anini ‘man’ vs aniniwag ‘men’) and Ojibwa verbs that exhibit the loss of word-final lax vowel but not a preceding glide (e.g. ni-wīndigōw ‘I am a Windigo’ vs ni-wīndigōwi-min ‘we are Windigos’).

Katz (1980:1) views the meaning of a sentence and its logical form as identical and believes that this logical form should receive an intensional rather than an extensional interpretation. He sees Chomsky’s proposal to separate semantic interpretation into two parts, a logical form (LF), which is strictly determined by rules of sentence grammar, and whatever aspects of meaning remain, which are determined by discourse rules and possibly by other cognitive faculties, as pernicious. He further objects to what he interprets as Chomsky’s supporting extensionalism. He argues that Chomsky’s grounds for separating LF from other aspects of meaning are not compelling, that LF is itself incoherent, and that the results of making such a separation are harmful to the study of semantics in linguistics and philosophy alike.

One of the conundrums of the historical phonology of Spanish is the seemingly intrusive -s- in the word hasta ‘until.’ Its putative etymon, the Arabic ḥattā ‘up to, until, as far as, even, in order to’ does not have this -s- and, as far as is known, has never had it. The most recent serious discussion of and accounting for this -s- that I am aware of is that presented by Malkiel (1979) in which, dismissing previous lexical and phonological attempts as inadequate, he suggests that hasta (earlier fasta) resulted from a contamination of its predecessor fata, coming unambiguously from ḥattā, with a Romance form fascas ‘nearly, almost,’ derived in part from Latin usque ‘until.’ Both fata and fascas then went out of use, and fasta (> hasta) alone remains. In spite of the wealth of documentation adduced by Malkiel, his evidence adds up to this: before roughly 1300, there was a -word fata ‘until’ and a word fascas ‘almost’; after 1300 both fell out of use, and there was a new word fasta ‘until.’ The rest is speculation.