Na’viteri.org

From time to time I receive and answer Na’vi-related questions via email. When such discussions are likely to be of interest to the wider Na’vi community, I’ll share them here on the blog.

But a word of warning: Detailed grammatical discussions are not everyone’s cup of tea. If you’re someone who finds such analyses confusing, boring, or useless, that’s OK! You can become proficient in a language without consciously relying on grammatical rules. (That’s how we learned our native language, after all!) In fact, as I’ve mentioned before, some linguists believe that true language acquisition results from “comprehensible input,” not from conscious attention to grammar. So feel free to skip such posts if they’re not your thing.

With that said, here are two recent such discussions:

1. Case endings for certain borrowed words

This discussion began with my wishing someone Merry Christmas in Na’vi:

Ftxozä Kerìsmìsä Lefpom.

The word for Christmas is obviously an English borrowing that comes out as Kerìsmìsì (based on the spoken pronunciation, not the spelling). But why is the genitive Kerìsmìsä rather than Kerìsmìsìyä?

It’s because the root of the word really “should be” simply Kerìsmìs, but since Na’vi doesn’t allow final s, we add the “neutral vowel” ì as a surfacy kind of adjustment. However, with the genitive ending ä, that’s not necessary, so we add it to the “theoretical root” (there’s probably a better term for that) and wind up with the natural-sounding Kerìsmìsä.

The next question that came up was the interesting one of how the German city of Köln (Cologne) is rendered in Na’vi in the various cases.

Na’vi doesn’t have the German vowel ö, so that vowel, when filtered through the Na’vi sound system, becomes e. (For the phoneticians and phonologists in the audience, the front-rounded vowel ö loses its rounding feature, resulting in e. It’s a common process.) So Köln becomes Keln. But since Na’vi can’t have two consonants at the end of a word, the neutral vowel ì is added: Kelnì. That’s the “unmarked,” Subjective case used for subjects of intransitive verbs.

But what about the rest of the cases? For example, what’s the Patientive case?

Following the Christmas example, we should add the case endings to the “theoretical root,” *Keln. The Genitive should therefore be Kelnä, which it is. So far so good.

But for roots that end in a consonant, the rules we’ve seen say there are two possibilities: -it and -ti (e.g., Eytukanit, Eytukanti). Kelnit is fine. But *Kelnti is not.

The resolution of this conundrum is that the familiar rules apply to native Na’vi roots. As we’ve seen, with Kelnì the “theoretical root” is *Keln, which of course could not be a native Na’vi root because of the syllable-final consonant cluster. In cases like these, you add the usual endings to the “theoretical root” when the result would be an allowable Na’vi word; when it wouldn’t, you have to make adjustments.

In this case, you need two simple adjustments. One is that the Subjective form becomes Kelnì. The other is that for the Patientive, the -ti form must be excluded. The entire paradigm is then:

S: Kelnì

A: Kelnìl (note that this is Keln + ìl, not Kelnì+ l)

P: Kelnit (not Kelnti and not Kelnìt)

D: Kelnur

G: Kelnä

T: Kelnìri (again, Keln + ìri, not Kelnì+ ri)

Also, remember there are native roots that end in ì. Hapxì is a good example. These follow the usual rules for roots ending in a vowel. So the paradigm for hapxì is:

S: hapxì

A: hapxìl

P: hapxìt OR hapxìti

D: hapxìr OR hapxìru

G: hapxìyä

T: hapxìri

2. Transitive/intransitive determination for certain verbs

Several verbs have long been in the dictionaries as simply “v.” Their transitive (vtr) or intransitive (vin) status has finally been specified. These are:

’ong                       ‘blossom’            vin
fkarut                   ‘peel’                   vtr
kämakto              ‘ride out’            vin
kenong                 ‘represent’         vtr
latsi                       ‘keep up with’   vin
mun’i                    ‘cut’                     vtr
nong                      ‘follow’               vtr
pate                       ‘arrive’                vin
salew                    ‘proceed’            vin
spä                         ‘jump’                 vin
tireapängkxo    ‘commune’        vin
tsä’                         ‘squirt’               vin
tuvon                   ‘lean’                   vin
virä                       ‘spread’              vin

A word about nong and kenong:

Both these verbs, along with tìkenong ‘example,’ appeared long ago, prior to the release of A1. Tìkenong was in Tsu’tey’s line:

Fayvrrtep fìtsenge lu kxanì. Fìpoti oel tspìyang [today I’d say tspìsyang] fte tìkenong lìyevu aylaru.
‘These demons are forbidden here. I will kill this one as a lesson to the others.’

Nong is vtr:

Nong oet!
‘Follow me!’

Kenong ‘represent, exemplify’ is vtr as well. I don’t know if I’ve ever used this word or provided an example sentence for it. Such a tìkenong ( 😊 ) might be:

Fayhemìl peyä ke kenong tìsayt a fkol fngo’ pota.
‘These actions of his do not represent the loyalty that is required of him.’

Important: Kenong is NOT derived from ke ‘not’ + nong ‘follow’! I know kenong LOOKS like ke + nong, but it’s actually a root, not a compound. (It would be hard to derive ‘example, model’ from ‘not follow’!) Such misleading exceptions are a natural part of real languages and have to be accepted as such. We have such things in English as well. For example, “cockroach” is not a compound of “cock” ‘rooster’ plus “roach” ‘kind of insect’! It actually comes from Spanish cucaracha.

Hayalovay, ma eylan!

Kaltxì, ma eylan! It’s been a while. I hope you’re all safe, well, and ready for the most exciting year for the Avatar/Na’vi community in over a decade!

I have quite a bit to share with you. Right now, here are 20 new words I hope you’ll find useful, with more things to follow soon.

First, two different senses of ‘save’:

’avun (vtr., ’A.vun)  ‘save (time, food, etc.)’

Ngari txo fìkem sivi fìfya, krrti ’avun.
‘If you do it like this, you’ll save time.’

tarep (vtr., TA.rep) ‘save, rescue’

Mawkrra palulukan posìn spolä, ke tsängun fko pot tivarep.
‘Sadly, once the thanator had jumped on her, she could not be rescued.’

Tarep is stronger than zong, which we’ve previously glossed as ‘save, defend.’ Tarep implies rescue from a dangerous or distressing situation. If your life is being threatened, you can yell, “Tarep! Tarep!” which would be the equivalent of “Help! Help!”

tareptu (n., TA.rep.tu) ‘rescuee, someone who has been rescued or saved’

Maw tsafekem, new tareptu sneyä tarepyur irayo sivi.
‘After the accident, the rescuee wanted to thank his rescuer.’

sätarep (n., sä.TA.rep) ‘rescue, an incidence of rescuing’

A missing derivative of frrfen:

säfrrfen (n., sä.FRR.fen) ‘visit, an instance of visiting’

Furia nga zola’u irayo; ngey säfrrfen txasunu oer.
‘Thank you for coming; I enjoyed your visit very much.’

Some words for good and bad people:

tsantu (n., TSAN.tu) ‘good person, “good guy” ’

nawmtu (n., NAWM.tu) ‘noble person’

kawngtu (n., KAWNG.tu) ‘bad person, “bad guy” ’

Lala tsarelmì arusikx, yemstokx tsantul hawre’ti ateyr, kawngtul pumit alayon.
‘In that old movie, the good guy wears a white hat, the bad guy a black one.’

tìk (adv.) ‘immediately, without delay’

As an adverb, tìk is a concise synonym for pxiye’rìn.

Tsakem si tìk!
‘Do it immediately!’

(This is stronger than Tsakem si set—more of an order or command.)

Don’t confuse tìk with tsìk, a different adverb meaning ‘suddenly, without warning.’ It’s interesting to speculate on a possible etymological or evolutionary relationship between these two words, but until there’s evidence for that, it’s best to consider the resemblance a coincidence.

Unlike pxiye’rìn, tìk is also a conjunction indicating that a second action immediately follows a first:

Fìioang ke tsun slivele; nemfa pay zup tìk spakat.
’This animal cannot swim; if it falls into the water, it immediately drowns.’

spakat (vin., SPA.kat) ‘drown’

Note the syntax in the above example. When two actions immediately follow one another, with the second being a consequence of the first, this “clipped style” (root-V tìk root-V) is often used colloquially. It’s a bit like pointing to the “third rail” along a train track and saying, “You touch that, you die.” Just as you could say, “If you touch that, you’ll die,” you could say in Na’vi, Txo nemfa pay zivup, tìk spayakat, but that would be less colloquial.

Note also the idiom:

Tse’a tìk yawne
‘Love at first sight’

fwum (vin.) ‘float (on the surface of a liquid)’

Don’t confuse fwum, which typically indicates floating on the surface of water, with lìng, which refers to floating or hovering, usually in the air but possibly also under water, like a diver.

Merìk alor paysìn fwarmum.
‘Two beautiful leaves were floating on the water.’

wapx (vin.) ‘sink’

Ke omum teyngta fìuran aku’up fu fwayum fu wayapx.
‘I don’t know (or: It’s not known) whether this heavy boat will float or sink.’

tamìfa (adj., ta.MÌ.fa) ’internal’

tawrrpa (adj., ta.WRR.pa) ’external’

Fìtxelel fngo’ sälangit atawrrpa.
’This matter requires an external investigation.’

zam mì zam (adv.) ‘completely, one hundred percent’

Zam, literally meaning 64, is the functional equivalent of 100 in octal. So zam mì zam

Is equivalent to 100 in 100, that is, 100 percent. It’s often used in place of nìwotx. (And it sounds nice!)

Ngahu mllte oe zam mì zam.
‘I agree with you one hundred percent.’

tsantxäl (n., tsan.TXÄL) ‘invitation’

From sìltsan ‘good’ + ätxäle ‘request.’

Ngeyä fìtsantxälìri atìtstunwinga’ irayo, slä ke tsängun oe ziva’u.
‘Thank you for this kind invitation, but unfortunately I cannot come.’

tsantxäl si (vin., tsan.TXÄL si) ‘invite’

Po tsantxäl soli oer tsnì ziva’u kelkune.
‘She invited me to come to her home.’

(The use of tsnì here is related to its use with ätxäle si.)

say (adj.) ‘loyal’

Leiu po ken’aw sayrìp släkop say.
‘He’s not only handsome but also, I’m happy to say, loyal.’

(As far as we know, say and sayrìp are not related.)

tìsay (n., tì.SAY) ‘loyalty’

Tì’eylanìri tsranten frato tìsay.
‘What matters most in friendship is loyalty.’

nìsay (adv., nì.SAY) ‘loyally’

MIPA ZÌSÌT LEFPOM, MA EYLAN!

Kaltxì, ma frapo!

Sìlpey oe, ayngaru livu fpom nìwotx.

It’s been a while since we’ve had any new vocabulary, slä nì’i’a, here are some new words I hope you’ll find useful.

First, one that’s long been missing but which you may have guessed at:

lìngtskxe (n., LÌNG.tskxe) ‘unobtanium’

This clearly comes from lìng ‘float’ + tskxe ‘rock.’

säfmong (n. sä.FMONG) ’theft (particular instance)’

We’ve already seen tìfmong, the abstract concept of theft. Säfmong is a particular instance of stealing.

Poeri säfmong lora tsafkxileyä lolu na ayskxe mì te’lan.
‘For her, the theft of that beautiful necklace was like stones in her heart.’

Srake lu ngay fwa tìfmong ke fkeytok kip Na’vi?
‘Is it true that theft does not exist among the Na’vi?’

kakan (adj., KA.kan) ‘rough’

Don’t confuse kakan with ekxtxu. Ekxtxu is rough in the physical sense, as in a rough surface as opposed to a smooth (faoi) one. Kakan is the opposite of flrr ‘gentle’ and refers to behavior. It’s used for both people and things.

Kakana aylì’uri a poltxe oel nìsti, tsap’alute.
‘I apologize for the rough words that I spoke in anger.’

nìkakan (adv., nì.KA.kan) ’roughly’

txaw (vtr.) ‘punish’

Sempulìl asìltsan sney evengit ke txaw nìkakan.
‘A good father doesn’t punish his children roughly.’

tìtxaw (n., tì.TXAW) ‘punishment’

ra’un (vtr., RA.’un, inf. 1,2) ’surrender, relinquish, give up’

It may seem we already have a word for ‘surrender, give up’—namely, velek. But the two words are different. Velek is vin.—intransitive, i.e., not taking an object. So to say, “I give up. I surrender. You win,” you use velek. On the other hand, ra’un is vtr. and takes an object: it refers to giving up or surrendering something:

Fìatxkxeti ke raya’un ayoel kawkrr!
‘We will never give up this land!’

tìra’un (n., tì.RA.’un) ’surrender, relinquishment’

Peyä tìra’un tìeyktanä leyewla lu nìtxan.
‘His surrender of leadership is very disappointing.’

’älek (adj, ’Ä.lek) ‘determined’

This refers to someone who has made a firm decision that is not subject to change.

Tìfläri lolu po ’älek.
‘She was determined to succeed.’

tì’älek (n., tì.’Ä.lek) ‘determination’

Peyä tì’älek oeru rolo’a nìtxan.
‘His determination impressed me greatly.’

nì’älek (adv., nì.’Ä.lek) ‘determinedly, with determination’

pung (vtr.) ‘hurt, injure’

This verb means the same as tìsraw seyki but has a simpler syntax.

Ngal perung oet fìfya pelun?
‘Why are you hurting me like this?’

Teya si oer fwa ngal pawnunga ayioangit zong.
‘It moves me that you save injured animals.’

lewng (n.) ‘shame’

Lewng is the opposite of nrra ‘pride.’

Munge fnawe’tul lewngit soaiaru sneyä.
‘A coward brings shame to his/her family.’

There are two different adjectival forms for ‘shameful’—one for people, one for things.

lelewng (adj., ofp, le.LEWNG) ‘shameful’

lewnga’ (adj., nfp, LEW.nga’) ‘shameful’

(Here, lewng + nga’ has coalesced to lewnga’.)

So: tute lelewng ‘a shameful person’ but voìk alewnga’, ‘shameful behavior.’

swapxì (n., swa.PXÌ) ‘family member’

This is a contraction of soaia + hapxì. The steps in the derivation are:

soaia + hapxì > soapxì > swapxì.

Ayswapxìl oeyä tok fìtsenget nìwotx.
‘All the members of my family are here.’

sweyn (vtr.) ‘keep, preserve’

Ayngal syuvet sweyn peseng fteke ayioang tsivun tsat kivanom?
‘Where do you keep the food so that animals can’t get it?’

Sweyn can also be used in the sense of ‘leave alone’ or ‘not disturb’:

Tsayayotsrulit sweyn, ma ’itan.
Don’t disturb that bird’s nest, son.

Oey fpomit sweyn!
‘Leave me alone! (I.e., ‘Do not disturb my peace!’)

(Recall that an equivalent version of the last example, using the verb txung ‘destroy, disrupt, bother,’ is:

Oey fpomit txung rä’ä!
‘Leave me alone!’ OR ‘Don’t bother me!’)

Finally, when you want to attract someone’s attention, how do you say ‘excuse me’ or ‘hey’ in Na’vi? There are three levels of politeness:

1. Addressing a stranger using honorific language:

manawmtu (intj., ma.NAWM.tu) ‘excuse me sir, excuse me madam’

Manawmtu, srake luyu ngenga eyktan fìolo’ä?
‘Excuse me, sir, are you the leader of this clan?

2. Addressing a stranger using neutral language, neither overly polite nor overly familiar:

matu (intj., ma.TU) ‘excuse me, hey’

Matu, ngal hawntsyokxit tìmungzup.
‘Excuse me, you just dropped your glove.’

3. Addressing someone you’re close to or superior to. Be careful with this, since in the wrong situation it can be impolite and rude (unless that’s your intention!).

manga (intj., ma.NGA) ‘hey, hey you’

Manga! Kempe si?
‘Hey! What are you doing?’

That’s it for now. I have some great material from members of the lì’fyaolo’ that I hope to publish soon. Tsakrrvay, makto zong, ma eylan.

Edit 01 Oct.: Tsayayotsrulit sweyn rä’ä –> Tsayayotsrulit sweyn + example with txung.   Irayo, ma Tekre!

Edit 20 July 2023: In the second example sentence: tìfkeytok –> fkeytok. Irayo, ma Zángtsuva!

Kaltxì, ma frapo!

The Great Na’vi Proverb and Idiom Contest is now history, and I’m delighted with the results! The insight and creativity that went into so many of the submissions impressed me to no end.

Irayo nìtxan to everyone who entered. I received a total of 19 forms, with the coding system working perfectly to ensure the anonymity of the entrants. Here are the codes, in numerical order, so you can check to make sure I saw your entry: 0003600, 301176, 1108012, 1211194, 1211948, 1983228, 2142013, 2154828, 2220182, 3264728, 3605005, 4152006, 4301986,4835789, 4974523, 5295292, 5305412, 7418529, 199454510

Below are the submissions I was particularly impressed with, the ones I thought best reflected Na’vi and Pandoran life and/or used the language the most creatively, and were also the most striking. These can now appear in any officially approved list of proverbs, idioms, or useful phrases. If your entry is among them, Seykxel sì Nitram! But if not, please don’t feel discouraged. Judging such contests is necessarily subjective, and different judges might well come up with different results. Also, since I now see how easy it is to set up such things, there will be other such contests. (I already have one in mind!) So if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. (Hmm. What would the Na’vi equivalent of that be?)

I’ll list the winners in each category in random order, including the code numbers, with no hierarchy implied. If your entry is here and you’d like to identify yourself either publicly in the comments or privately to me in an email (my-last-name AT marshall DOT usc DOT edu), please do so! Tìftxey pum ngeyä—the choice is yours, i.e., it’s up to you.

I should add that in a few cases I took the liberty of slightly altering the original submission and/or explanation. In those instances, I kept the original thought but tweaked the Na’vi a bit for better word usage, clarity, conciseness, or what I thought was improved rhythm and flow. I hope the authors won’t mind the editing. 😊 Also, I want to mention some things to a couple of the entrants, which I’ll do in the comments by addressing the code numbers.

Irayo nìmun, ma smuk! Ayngeyä tsulfä tìyawnsì fìlì’fyayä awngeyä oeru teya si.

ta P.

Proverbs

Kxìm utuftu fnawe’tu.
Entrant code: 0003600
Author’s explanation:
A coward commands from the canopy. That is, a real leader will have “boots on the ground” and will help out, whereas a coward will only tell people (from afar) what to do. Can be used to say, “If you’re not gonna help, then shut up!” with someone who is being extra bossy.

’Uori hìpey, kxawm ngaru ke ley.
Entrant code: 4835789
Author’s explanation:
If you hesitate doing something, it might not be important to you.
Of course, we often hesitate with things that are in fact important to us, because we’re afraid to fail. So this proverb is more meant/used as a motivation for someone hesitating, or even as a teasing to get someone into action: “Hey, if it’s important for you, then you have to just do it, even though it’s hard! If you don’t start now, maybe you don’t care enough.”

Spä skxawng sìn ’ana aflì.
Entrant code: 301176
Author’s explanation:
A fool jumps onto a thin vine.
Don’t engage in an unpromising and/or potentially risky cause. Example: Tsayerik terul ne ‘awkx. Spä skxawng sìn ’ana aflì. ‘That hexapede is running toward the cliff. Only a fool jumps onto a thin vine.’ This is a hunter telling their partner there is no use in pursuing the hexapede, since the danger is too great and the chance of success too small.

Hahaw nì’aw txo palukan smivon ngar.
Entrant code: 2220182
Author’s explanation:
Only sleep if you are familiar with the Thanator.
Don’t think you’re safe unless you’re aware of the danger. (It could create a false sense of safety.)

Ke kur fko fa kxetse.
Entrant code: 3605005
Author’s explanation:
One can’t hang by a tail.
Don’t rely on something/someone untrustworthy or useless, just as a Na’vi tail can’t be relied on to bear weight.

Idiomatic Expressions

(na) fwampop fkip fìwopx
Entrant code: 199454510
Author’s explanation:
(Like a) tapirus in the clouds
“Fish out of water”; something or someone out of their usual element or comfort zone.

’Awsiteng lu mefo lanay’ka.
Entrant code: 5305412
Author’s explanation:
They are a slinger (together).
A slinger is a Pandoran predator that’s actually not a single organism. It’s two creatures in a symbiotic relationship. One acts as the head, the other as the body. Calling two people a slinger praises how well they work together and complement each other: Tolaron mefol mesalioangit! Tewti, ‘awsiteng lu mefo lanay’ka. ‘They hunted two sturmbeest? Wow, they work very well together.’

(na) lanay’ka luke re’o
Entrant code: 2154828
Author’s explanation:
Like a slinger without a head—i.e., completely lost. Po maw kxitx muntxatuä ‘amefu na lanay’ka re’oluke. ‘After the death of his spouse, he felt completely lost.’

zawr (a) mì na’rìng
Entrant code: 1983228
Author’s explanation:
an animal cry in the forest
“Old news”, i.e., you can’t pass off an animal cry in the forest as something newsworthy because it’s present almost all the time. A: Srake ngal stolawm futa Tsenu Ralur mowan lu nìtxan? ‘Have you heard that Ralu has the hots for Tsenu?’ B: Zawr mì na’rìng, ma tsmuk! Tsat omum oel kintrro. ‘Old news, brother! I’ve known it for a week.’

Kxetse kì’ong!
Entrant code: 7418529
Author’s explanation:
Slow tail! [Short for Ngari kxetse kì’ong livu.]
That is, “Don’t get angry.” When the Na’vi get angry, their tails whip around, so “slow down your tail” is another way to say calm down.

yerik (a) mì yrrap
Entrant code: 2142013
Author’s explanation:
Hexapede in a storm: a metaphor or simile representing extreme panic, anxiety or timidity.

Kaltxì nìmun, ma frapo!

I hope you’ve been having fun coming up with new Na’vi proverbs and idioms. Now it’s time to submit your entries!

I used Google Forms to create the entry form. (Fingers crossed that I did it correctly!) You’ll find it here:

https://forms.gle/ctcwr11JM8KyG5j29

As you’ll see, I’ve asked you to enter a 7-digit code (example: 9272031) that will be unique to you. I’ll announce the winning entries via these codes, and then the winners can identify themselves.

You can submit either one proverb, or one idiom, or one of each.

Deadline for submission:
Saturday, 7 August 2021, midnight PDT (Pacific Daylight Time).

Furia tse’a aysäfpìlìt ayngeyä, srefereiey nìprrte’ nìngay!

ta P.

Kaltxì, ma frapo!

It’s been an unusually busy month for me, but the things I’ve been involved in have been quite interesting. Spaw oel futa fayu ayngane zayawprrte’ nìteng. 🙂

To kick off the second half of the year, I thought it would be fun to have another little contest, this time to create new proverbs and idiomatic expressions.

My idea is this: Entrants would contribute either one new proverb, one new idiomatic expression, or one of each. I’d receive the contributions anonymously, judge them, and announce the results. Entries will be judged on creativity, aptness, conciseness, and naturalness–that is to say, the sense that these proverbs and expressions evolved naturally among the Na’vi and often turn up in their conversation. Winning entries that I feel make the grade will become part of the official language and appear in our dictionaries.

Guidelines

Proverbs

These can be of three types.

Type 1: Proverbial expressions that uniquely reflect the Na’vi, their culture, and their environment. These could not have developed anywhere but on Pandora. Examples:

Kxetse sì mikyun kop plltxe.
‘The tail and ears also speak.’

Ätxäle si palukanur tsnì smarit livonu.
’Ask a thanator to release its prey.’

Txìm a’aw ke tsun hiveyn mì tal mefa’liyä.
‘One butt can’t sit on the backs of two direhorses.’

Type 2: Proverbial expressions that are not necessarily unique to Pandora and could have arisen elsewhere, but that play with the Na’vi language:

Kem amuiä, kum afe’.
‘Proper action, bad result.’

Fwäkì ke fwefwi.
 ‘A mantis doesn’t whistle.’

Payìl a lipx tskxeti ripx.
 ‘Dripping water pierces a stone.’

Txo ke nìyo’, tsakrr nìyol.
‘If you can’t be flawless, then be brief.’

Type 3: Proverbial expressions with the characteristics of both Type 1 and Type 2.

Note that the intended meaning of a proverb is not necessarily apparent at first glance. (What does “A mantis doesn’t whistle” mean?) But once it’s explained, it should feel natural. (In this example: ‘Don’t expect someone to do something that’s not in their nature.’)

Idiomatic expressions

These are brief conversational phrases unique to Pandora:

(na) loreyu ’awnampi
 ‘like a touched helicoradian’

pewn torukä
‘the Toruk’s throat’

sre fwa sngap zize’
‘before the hellfire wasp stings’

(na) kenten mì kumpay
‘like a fan lizard in gel’

With these idioms as well, the meanings may not be immediately apparent, but once explained, they should be clear and striking.

What do you think? Do you like this idea? If so, what’s the best way to implement this little contest? In particular, what’s the best way for me to receive the entries anonymously? I’m open to suggestions! Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

Hayalovay!

Edit to add: 10 July

Pìlok tolätxeiaw!!!

As some of you may have noticed, the blog was offline for a short time. It was due to a bureaucratic error, and getting the problem resolved was frustratingly difficult. But eventually it worked out. I am very relieved!

Fya’o angäzìk ne kum akosman. (‘All’s well that ends well.’) 🙂

Ma Eana Unil, ma Vawmataw, ma Plumps, ma Wind12, ayngeyä aysämokìri sì tìslanìri seiyi oe irayo. I agree that Google Forms is a good solution to the anonymous contribution question. I’m working on an appropriate form.

I’m glad you like the contest!

A bit more on -tu:

As we discussed, when -tu is attached to a verb, it sometimes indicates the person who is the object of the verb (like spe’etu and kiantu) and sometimes the subject (like snaytu and yora’tu). It may seem strange and unnatural that the same suffix can have two different and opposite functions. But in fact this kind of thing occurs in Earth languages as well—for example, in English!

Think of the words for people that end in stressed –ee. (There are a lot more of them than I would have thought! This paper lists 520 such forms, most of which were entirely new to me.) Here are some examples:

They employed her. She is an employee.
They appointed him. He is an appointee.
I tutor her. She is my tutee.
We nominated him. He is our nominee.

And many more.

Notice that these –ee words all refer to the object of the relevant verb.

But now take a look at these words:

He returned to his homeland. He is a returnee.
She stood at the concert. She was a standee.
He escaped from prison. He is an escapee.
She retired from work last year. She is a retiree.

These refer to the subject of the verb!

Eltxur tìtxen si, kefyak? 🙂

Kaltxì, ma frapo!

Just a few new words today, but I hope they’ll fill in some important gaps. And I’ll mention a few other things I think you’ll find useful as well.

NEW VOCABULARY

kian (vtr., ki.AN, inf. 1, 2) ‘blame’

Oeti kian rä’ä! Ke nolui oe!
Don’t blame me! It wasn’t my fault!

kiantu (n., ki.AN.tu) ‘blameworthy person’

Fìtìsnaytxìri lu ngeyä tsmukan kiantu.
‘Your brother is to blame for this loss.’

A word about kiantu: It may seem unusual, in that the -tu suffix is more frequently attached to an adjective or noun. (Examples: fnawe’tu ‘coward’ from fnawe’ ‘cowardly’; koaktu ‘old person’ from koak ‘old, aged’; kxutu ‘enemy’ from kxu‘harm’; pamtseotu ‘musician’ from pamtseo ‘music’; etc.) But in fact, -tu can attach to almost anything—typically an adjective or noun, but also a verb, and sometimes even an adposition (wätu ‘opponent’). Some examples of -tu with verbs:

snaytu ‘loser’ from snaytx ‘lose’
yora’tu ‘winner’ from yora’ ‘win’
spe’etu ‘captive’ from spe’e ‘capture
frrtu ‘guest’ from frrfen ‘visit’

So what’s the difference between -tu and -yu?

Yu is exclusively a verbal suffix–VERB + yu–that always means ‘the one performing the action of the verb,’ i.e., the agent. And it’s productive, in the same way that -er in English is.

Unlike –yu, however, -tu is not productive, so -tu words need to be listed in the dictionary. The meaning is not always predictable. The best we can say is: a -tu word refers to a person who is in some way associated with the base to which -tu is attached. In the case of snaytu and yora’tu, it’s the one performing the verb, i.e. the agent. In the case of spe’etu and kiantu, it’s the one receiving the action of the verb.

zin (adj.) ‘tangled’

Längu fayhìng zin nìwotx; ke tsun sat sivar.
‘Unfortunately, these threads are all tangled up; they can’t be used.’

tìzin (n., tì.ZIN) ‘a tangle(ment); mass of something twisted together’

tìzin si (vin.) ‘tangle, tangle up’

Nari si fteke ayturtelur tìzin sivi!
’Be careful not to tangle the ropes!’

kezin (adj., KE.zin) ‘untangled’

tìkezin (n., tì.KE.zin) ‘something in an untangled state, “untanglement,” solution’

Tsatìngäzìkìri tìkezin lu fyin.
‘The solution to that problem is simple.’

tìkezin si (vin.) ‘untangle; solve’

This si-verb can be used either literally, as in untangling twisted threads, or metaphorically, as in solving (= untangling) a problem.

Srake tsun nga fìingyentsimur tìkezin sivi?
‘Can you solve this riddle?’

tunu (adj., TU.nu) ‘romantic’

Ngari ’efu oe tunu.
‘I feel romantic towards you; I have romantic feelings for you.’

(NOTE: In colloquial conversation, the three consecutive vowels u-o-e cause the oe in ’efu oe to be pronounced in one syllable, as in oeti, oeri, oeru, oeta, etc.: It sounds like ‘efu we.)

Tunu refers to romantic feelings only, whereas yawne is more general. You can say Nga yawne lu oer to your spouse or romantic partner but also to your parents, siblings, children, beloved Platonic friends, pets, etc. But Ngari ’efu oe tunu is only used for romantic love and attraction.

Po yawne lu oer, slä pori ke ’efu oe tunu.
’I love him, but I don’t have romantic feelings for him.’

tìtunu (n., tì.TU.nu) ‘romance’

Awnga zenke tivung futa fìtìtunu vivar.
‘We must not allow this romance to continue.’

tunutu (n., TU.nu.tu) ‘object of desire, ”crush”’

Tunutu is different from yawntu / yawnetu. Your yawntu is your beloved, the person for whom you feel serious, mature, deep love. Your tunutu is your “crush,” someone you’re romantically attracted to. For example, your tunutu could be a movie star, while your yawntu would be your mate or spouse.

ABOUT PÌMTXAN:

A note about a word we’ve already seen, pìmtxan, which means ‘how much.’ It’s the noncountable equivalent of the word used for countables, polpxay ‘how many.’ Like polpxay, pìmtxan can be used as an adjective: polpxaya zìsìt ‘how many years’; pìmtxana pay ‘how much water.’ This means that alongside certain specific interrogative words like somwewpe ‘how hot,’ we also have structures like pìmtxana tìsom ‘how hot (= how much heat).’ The two versions are interchangeable.

SOME COLLOQUIAL OMISSIONS

In all languages, certain things can happen in casual, colloquial speech that wouldn’t be appropriate in more careful, formal styles. Na’vi is no exception. Note these examples of common omissions that occur in casual conversation. (You’re probably already familiar with them, but I wanted to gather them together in one place.)

(1) LU
More formal:              Nga lu pesu?               ‘Who are you?’
More colloquial:         Nga pesu?                   ‘Who are you?’

(2) TOK
More formal:              Pol tok pesenget?      ‘Where is he?’
More colloquial:         Pol pesenget?             ‘Where is he?
(Note that even when tok is omitted, the -l and -t case markings remain obligatory.)

(3) PUM
More formal:              Fìtsko lu pum oeyä.    ‘This bow is mine.’
More colloquial:         Fìtsko lu oeyä.             ‘This bow is mine.’

IMPORTANT: The shortened versions with the omitted words are not obligatory in casual conversation! They may occur, but they don’t have to occur.

That’s it for now. Hayalovay, ma eylan. Ulte . . .

’Awvea Trr Vospxìmrrä Lefpom!

Edit May 2: Tsatìngäzìkeri –> Tsatìngäzìkìri, Vospìmrrä –> Vospxìmrrä  Thanks, Vawmataw and Zángtsuva!
Edit May 7: Fìtìsnaytxeri –> Fìtìsnaytxìri  Irayo, ma Plumps!

Kaltxì, ma frapo!

We haven’t had any new vocabulary in quite a while, so this post will be a small step in that direction. Before anything, however, let me say a few words about lexical expansion in general.

As I consider new vocabulary, my thinking seems to organize itself into three categories:

Category 1: This is the most important one: filling in the gaps. What words and expressions needed for easy and effective communication are still missing? A good way to discover such gaps is for us to take notice every so often of what we’re saying and writing during the day, and think about how we would say the same things in Na’vi. We may discover major gaps, where it’s difficult or impossible to express something with the existing vocabulary, something for which Na’vi would most likely have a word. Or we may find we can get our thought across but only by using a clumsy circumlocution, where Na’vi would most likely have an efficient way to say the same thing. Of course, in many instances a lexical item needed for a situation on earth would not have evolved on Pandora, since the situation doesn’t exist there. (To talk about vaccinations, for example, we’d need to borrow terms from Earth languages or come up with creative workarounds.) But such situations aside, there are still plenty of native Na’vi words to discover that we can use to our advantage.

Category 2: Fine-tuning. One of the advantages of using a language with a huge vocabulary is the ability to fine-tune a thought. Think of how we can express the fact we really like something in English. We might say it’s great, excellent, wonderful, incredible, awesome, unbelievable, astounding, stupendous, miraculous, magnificent, superb, breathtaking, amazing, astonishing, fantastic, tremendous, marvelous, . . . Each term has its own particular shade of meaning. It’s true that such a proliferation isn’t necessary to get the basic idea across. (In George Orwell’s famous vision of a frightening dystopia, 1984, “Newspeak” makes do with only three words to express the whole gamut of goodness: good, plusgood, and doubleplusgood.) But having a rich variety of terms in the same semantic range adds color, precision, and individual personality to our expression. While it’s not a priority, Na’vi would benefit from more such terms, each with its own set of associations and ranges of applicability.

Category 3: Words and expressions particular to Pandora and Na’vi life and experience, terms not found in other languages. This is perhaps the most interesting, thought-provoking, and fun category. The most obvious examples are the words for flora and fauna found only on Pandora, and for specifically Na’vi body parts like kuru, tswin, and pil. But there are also words for actions, ideas, experiences, and feelings that are particular to the Na’vi: tsaheylu, meoauniaea, ’onglawn, etc. Also in this category are idioms and sayings like na loreyu ’awnampi and Txo ke nìyo’ tsakrr nìyol. These words and expressions reflect the environment and culture of the Na’vi and give the language much of its uniqueness.

All that being said, let’s move on to today’s new words and expressions:

pe’ngay (vin., pe’.NGAY, inf. 1, 1) ‘judge, conclude’

This word derives from pe’un ‘decide’ + ngay ‘true.’ To draw a conclusion is to decide that something is true. It’s used with tsnì:

Pori keyrelfa oe pole’ngay tsnì ke new ziva’u.
‘From her expression, I concluded that she didn’t want to come.’

Derivations:

tìpe’ngay (n., ti.pe’.NGAY) ‘conclusion’

(Note: Don’t confuse tìpe’ngay with tì’i’a, which is also glossed as ‘conclusion.’ The former refers to a determination, the latter to a termination. 🙂 )

pe’ngayyu (n., pe’.NGAY.yu) ‘judge’

wrrzärìp (vtr., wrr.ZÄ.rìp, inf. 2, 3) ‘pull out, extract’

Pol tstalit wrrzolärìp tstalsenaftu.
‘He pulled the knife out of its sheath.’

This word is the basis for some common idioms:

txe’lanti wrrzärìp ‘to greatly move emotionally’ (lit.: ‘to pull out the heart’)

Oeri peyä aylì’ul txe’lanti wrrzolärìp.
‘Her words moved me greatly.’

tìpe’ngayt wrrzärìp ‘infer’

To infer is to pull out a conclusion from something seen or stated.

Ngey aylì’uftu wrrzärìp oel tìpe’ngayt a lu ngar yewla.
‘From your words, I infer that you’re disappointed.’

tìpe’ngayt wrrzeykärìp: ‘imply’

Here the causative <eyk> form of the verb is used. To imply is to cause someone to infer something—that is, to cause them to pull out a conclusion from something seen or stated.

Ngey aylì’ul wrrzeykärìp tìpe’ngayt a lu ngar yewla.
‘Your words imply that you’re disappointed.’

Among English speakers, “imply” and “infer,” which are not synonymous, are often used incorrectly. Hopefully the distinction is clearer in Na’vi!

lewn (vtr.) ‘endure, stand, tolerate’

Peyä tìrusolit ke tsun oe livewn.
‘I can’t stand her singing.’

Hufwa tìsraw lu txan, tsun ayoe tsat livewn.
‘Although the pain is great, we can endure it.’

ketsuklewn (adj., ke.tsuk.LEWN) ‘intolerable, unacceptable’

(Note: Even though ketsuk- is productive, some forms with it are so frequent that they’re listed in the dictionary, like ketsuktiam.)

Tsafnevoìk lu ketsuklewn.
‘That kind of behavior is intolerable.’

tsukanom (adj., tsu.KA.nom) ‘available, obtainable’

This word developed from tsuk- ‘receptive capability’ + kanom ‘get, obtain.’ Note that kk > k.

Tsayfasuk tsukanom lu krrka fìzìsìkrr nì’aw.
‘Those berries are available during this season only.’

And something perhaps more likely to be said ’Rrtamì,

Wä fìsäspxin a ’umtsa leiu set tsukanom.
Medicine against this disease is happily now available.

ketsukanom (adj., ke.tsu.KA.nom) ‘unavailable, unobtainable’

tìtsukanom (n., tì.tsu.KA.nom) ’availability’

The next two terms both refer to a key point of a presentation or argument, but in different senses.

txinfpìl (n., TXIN.fpìl) ‘main point’

From txin ‘main, primary’ + säfpìl ‘idea.’ This word refers to the primary idea or thesis statement of a presentation or argument.

Oel ngeyä txinfpìlit mi ke tslam.
‘I still don’t understand your main point.’

ngrrfpìl (n., NGRR.fpìl) ‘key assumption’

From ngrr ‘root’ + säfpìl ‘idea.’ This word refers to a basic assumption that underlies a presentation or argument.

Nìlaw lu peyä ngrrfpìl fwa Sawtute ke lu mal.
‘His assumption is clearly that the Skypeople can’t be trusted.’

sätarenga’ (adj., sä.TA.re.nga’, colloquially pronounced STA.re.nga’) ‘relevant, pertinent’

From sätare ‘connection’ + -nga’ ‘having, containing.’

Tsasäplltxeviri asätarenga’ irayo.
‘Thanks for that pertinent comment.’

kesätarenga’ (adj., ke.sä.TA.re.nga’, colloquially pronounced ke.STA.re.nga’) ‘irrelevant’

letut (adj., le.TUT) ‘constant, continual’

lukftang (adj. luk.FTANG) ‘constant, continual’

These are two near-synonyms that can be used more or less interchangeably, although lukftang is somewhat stronger than letut.

Peyä tìpuslltxel alukftang/letut oeti srätx.
‘His constant talking annoys me.’

That’s it for now. Hayalovay, ma smuk. And for those who celebrate, Happy Passover, Happy Easter . . . ulte Lefpoma Trr Ayskxawngä a mì Vospxìtsìng! 😀

Edit 01 April: *pe’ngayt –> tìpe’ngayt (2x)  Irayo, ma Pamìrìk!
Edit 01 April: *tsafnezoìk –> tsafnevoìk, *Wäfìsäspxin –> Wä fìsäspxin  Irayo, ma Plumps!

Kaltxì nìmun, ma frapo! Sìlpey oe, ayngaru livu fpom nìwotx.

It’s too late to say Mipa Zìsìt Lefpom, but perhaps not too early to wish you Zìskrrmipaw Lefpom. Spring is officially still three weeks away, but here in Los Angeles it feels as if it’s already arrived. Blossoms and young leaves are on the trees, the weather is warm, and after a horrible start to the year, it feels as if we’re finally ready for a new beginning. The pandemic situation here seems to be getting a little better as well. John and I just received our second shots of COVID vaccine (there are a few advantages to being “of a certain age” 😊 ) and we’re feeling very fortunate indeed. I hope things are improving wherever you are as well.

From time to time, I receive emailed questions relating to Na’vi. Let me share some recent ones with you, along with my answers.

Q: You’ve stated that the patientive (objective) ending after -ey is either -t or -ti. But we’ve seen examples where it was -it. Is that correct as well?
A: No. There are two cases we know of where the t and i were incorrectly transposed. But a word like kifkey is, in the patientive case, either kifkeyt or kifkeyti, not *kifkeyit.

Q: The verb tawng (vin.) is listed in the dictionary as ‘duck, dive.’ Is it (a) ‘dive’ in the sense of jumping into water to swim, or (b) strictly the action of jumping or throwing yourself to the ground?
A: It’s (a). Tawng refers to jumping into water. It could be used for jumping into water from the outside, as Olympic divers do off a diving board, or it could also be used when you’re already swimming in the water and want to dive down deeper. A typical phrase would be, tawng nemfa pay, ‘dive into the water.’

Q: To say, “Hello to my young friends in Germany,” we can say:
(1) Kaltxì oeyä ’ewana eylanur a tok Toitslanti.
But can we also say it this way?
(2) Kaltxì oeyä eylanur a’ewan a tok Toitslanti.
A: Yes. This is an exception to the rule that two “connecting a’s” can’t be on the same side of the noun—that is, that a must be adjacent to the noun being modified. For example, for “five big black cats” we can’t say *mrra palukantsyìp atsawl alayon but rather mrra palukantsyìp atsawl sì layon. However, when a connects not a simple adjective but a relative clause, that clause doesn’t always have to be adjacent to the noun it modifies. We’ve had a number of precedents for this structure. For example: . . . ulte Na’viru set lu nawma eyktan amip a larmu Tawtute, ‘and the Na’vi now had a great new leader who was a Skyperson.’

Q: What is the ordinal form of zam?
A: It’s zave. Here’s a set of reference tables that gives the cardinal and ordinal forms of numbers. For completeness, I’ve also included charts for personal pronouns and verb forms.

4 Tables

Q: Does the rule about sno that you announced in the last post hold up?
A: Unfortunately, no. The situation is more complex than I had initially thought, and the rule needs to be modified. Interestingly, there’s a somewhat parallel situation in Latin (!), which has two possessive pronouns, eius and suus, that correspond to Na’vi’s peyä and sneyä respectively. I asked my friend who’s a noted Classics professor to send me some textbook material on how those words are used and distinguished in Latin; I now have many pages of complicated grammatical discussion, which may throw light on the Na’vi situation. So stay tuned. I hope to be able to clarify the question in the not-too-distant future.

Finally, some of you who attended OmatiCon online early this year may have seen and heard my Zoom presentation on SLA—Second Language Acquisition—which I illustrated with a little sample Na’vi lesson. If you missed it, it’s available on YouTube here. I enjoyed doing it, and I hope it was fun for the participants.

Hayalovay, ma eylan.

Edit March 2: In 3rd question, friend –> friends