Cypriot Greek: A Refutation of Provencal Etymonic Primarism Through the Analysis of Loanwords into the Language

This paper was originally published by me as an assignment in June 2023, for the class Languages in the C21, run by Prof. Eve Afifa Kheir. The only alterations present are a slight re-work of the reference section to suit the format of Blogspot, rather than its original Microsoft word, as the former does not allow for footnotes, and me having to screenshot an image that would not transfer over, resulting in a slightly blurrier image. Please inform me of any errors you may encounter in the following. Enjoy

Cypriot Greek: A Refutation of Provencal Etymonic Primarism Through the Analysis of Loanwords into the Language

The following paper sets out to initially analyse and explain five lexical items loaned into the Cypriot dialect of Greek. It will do so by, first, establishing a history of the Island conducive to the natural introduction of the words; second, explaining the meanings of each word and their natural history (etymology) polychronically, alongside that of any relevant further exemplars of phenomena; and third, dealing with the perceptions, and misnomer-ing, of the histories of the words (etymythology). Following this, it will embark upon a discussion of greater depth on the dialectical origins of those words, focussing on the Provencal and Norther Old French origin theories. In doing this, this paper hopes to expand upon the research of notable surveyors and debaters of the Cypriot Greek dialects, both in Cyprus and the diaspora.

Where is the Home for me?

O Cyprus, set in the sea,

Aphrodite's home In the soft sea-foam,

Would I could wend to thee;

Where the wings of the Loves are furled,

And faint the heart of the world.

Aye, unto Paphos' isle,

Where the rainless meadows smile

With riches rolled From the hundred-fold

Mouths of the far-off Nile,

Streaming beneath the waves

To the roots of the seaward caves.

…

O there is Grace, and there is the Heart's Desire.

And peace to adore thee, thou Spirit of Guiding Fire!

Euripedes’ Bacchae[1]

To begin with, a linguistic history of Cyprus is prudent. Our knowledge of the earliest forms of language on Cyprus are based, as with many locations, on writing. Cyprus first developed a writing system through the Minoan civilisation, adopting and altering Linear A to form what we call the “Cypriot Minoan syllabary”. This early writing system was likely used to write multiple languages, notably Cypro-Minoan and Etocypriot, and stemmed from both the contemporary script of Linear A, and its progenitor, Creten Hieroglyphs (with possibly influence of a Vinča-related script).[2] Here one can see that, since its earliest attestations Cyprus has been a hub of mixed and multi-culturalism,[3] reflected in its palimpsest-ical archaeology.

Forms of Greek have been spoken on Cyprus dating back to the bronze age, with Arcado-Cypriot, a descendant of Mycenaean Greek, being spoken and written there.[4] This collection of lects would eventually be supplanted by the Koine Greek following the conquests of Alexander, which developed through the Middle Ages into Byzantine Greek. During the Decline of Byzantium in the early crusades, the language would develop relatively independently from the other Hellenic dialects into what would be the first notably dialectically different form of Greek seen on the island since that Macedonian King annexed it. Cypriot Greek was born.

In 1191 Cyprus was conquered by the famous English, though Old French speaking, king known nowadays as Richard the Lionheart, though he would later pass it along to the Templar Order, and then the Lusignan family.[5] Upon the ascension of the Lusignans to the throne of Cyprus, the Old French language began to influence the local Cypriot Greek. This has left a linguistic scar that has since become a beautiful tattoo on the unique dialects of the Cypriot peoples. It is the abovementioned remnant, outlasting even the castles of the Lusignans, that will be discussed in the following, beginning with the word τάμε.

It is, to my mind, fitting that the first word to be examined, when discussing dialectical shift due to a change in ruling class, is that describing a queen. Τάμε is one of three words to be discussed that relate to the concept of a queen. According to Davy and Panayotou’s 1997 paper, French Loans in Cypriot Greek, the term directly translates to the English word “dame”, yet mentions little else about the word, except their believed Old French equivalent, ‘dame’.^{^[6]} Yet Τάμε has multiple cognates in Cypriot Greek.

The first of these is the equivalent term ντάμε. With τάμε and ντάμε being only one phoneme separated, these synonymic minimal pairs are capable of being used interchangeably. Indeed, all sources mention the latter as a variant of the former. It is possible that the latter is a localised variant, as large dialectical differences are known to have been a constant on the island, especially in village dialects (Horkatika),[7] however no studies have been formed to explore such an idea further. As such, one can only speculate on the origin of the latter term.

Δάμα is another cognate of τάμε. However, a rift separates these terms, as δάμα is used to describe a more specific variety of dame, that of the playing card.

The trope of the queen is present in many different deck types, from the common French deck, to the Tarot (in which multiple cards may fill the queen motif).

Playing cards originated in 10^th century China, with the same word being used to refer both to them and the domino playing pieces, but wouldn’t reach mainland Europe until the latter half of the 14^th century. However, the trade routes that brought these cards to Europe, through Mamluk Egypt, places Cyprus among the first European states likely to encounter them. [8] In an unprecedented time of dialectical shift on the small island, it is no surprise that, given the similarities between the terms for king and queen in most Greek dialects (βασιλιάς and βασίλισσα), the use of a separate term to describe the queen card is, as in many European languages, formed (cf. Rex and Regina vs king and queen ). The use of the adopted French term dame->δάμα may indicate the use of playing cards in France earlier than previously known. However, it is likely a natural choice on the Island independently, as nobility (most of whom having a French background in Cyprus) were (typically) the first to purchase the historically expensive hand-painted decks.

Above, we can see a strange phenomenon developing. Not often does one have three near identical words forming from the same Old French etymon, all with closely related or identical meanings, all in common usage.

Given the intense similarity with OF dame, it appears that the earliest loaned form of the word is τάμε, a title. This terms prominence likely stems from the use of OF dame as an endonym by members of the newly developed French aristocracy, initially being foreign-ised, before the phonemes shifted, setting its status as a loanword. From this, the variant ντάμε would have spawned in certain communities, but, as mentioned above, the term has not been sufficiently studied to make a definitive statement as to its development.

The development of δάμα raises multiple possibilities. First of all, it may be another direct descendant of OF dame, coming from the aristocratic class which, as stated, were likely the first to have had access to the burgeoning hobby. Alternately, it may have stemmed from the already established Cypriot Greek τάμε at a later point, showing an example of semantic extension (or possibly loan-shifting) before the sound changes occurred. As a final, the word may have higher influence from the Provencal dialect,[9] with the vowel phonemes being closer to one another. I tend toward the second explanation. Img.1 details the possible developments of the three Cypriot Greek terms, with full lines representing likely descent, and broken lines representing possible influence or descent.

Img.1
The descendants of Old French ‘dame’, as discussed in this paper

Perhaps the most infamous term used when discussing loanwords into Cypriot Greek is τσαερα (also spelt τσερα). Meaning “chair”, τσαερα faces competition by its far more common synonym ‘καρέκλα’ (Standard Modern Greek), yet, to my mind, it hosts a far more interesting story.

Within the common view, we see the a perfectly logical etymological theory: the word is a borrowing of the English word “chair”. Those knowledgeable on the modern history of Cyprus (such as most all Cypriots themselves) are unsurprised by the concept. It is to be expected with the British Empire having direct control (/occupation/rule/governance) of the Island for over 80 years.^{^[10]} This is the perfect environment for words to be transferred across the two languages.

The commonality of this view can be seen via one of the very few English language sources on Cypriot words, Urban dictionary, in which Cypriot user MrKite (2007) called the word a “parafrase [paraphrase] of the original english [English] word chair” borrowed during British control.^{^[11]}

This is, however, an untrue etymology, an etymythology (or, as Cypriot lexicographer K. Giagoullis called the phenomenon, a paretymology)[12]. As proof, the word can be found in records of folk songs pre-British occupation.^{^[13]} The misidentification of donor language is perhaps to be expected, as, during the occupational period, many words were borrowed from English (e.g. κονιάκ : cognac, πικνίκ : picnic, etc),[14] and the similarities between τσαερα and chair are great.

Even scholars have historically been known to make the above mistake, as the famed writer and former Commissioner of Famagusta, Sir Harry Luke, in his last work, mis-attributed the word as coming from English.^{^[15]}

In reality, the term stems from the Old French chaiere, which had three meanings, the first being the throne (most commonly of a bishop),[16] then a church pew, and finally (least commonly) a chair.[17] Therefore τσαερα is not a result of British colonialism, as the etymythology posits, but rather a remnant from the religious fervour of the Third Crusade, as the etymology holds.

The next term to be discussed is one of the Cypriot Greek terms for fireplace, τσιμινιά, historically spelt τζημνια.[18] Coming from the Old French cheminée, there seems little to note about the word, but what is hidden beneath a simple word is multiple layers of polychronic semantic development. Davy and Panayotou note that, at the time of writing their 1997 paper, the term is not extant, but a related term, σεμενέ (flash pan) is still used in relative contexts.[19] However, I have been able to verify it is still in common usage in the Cypriot Greek dialects spoken in the South-Eastern regions of Australia, through discussions with range of Cypriot peoples in the age range of 30 and above, with the oldest being 98.

The Horkatika dialectical difference has been mentioned above, and once again comes into play, as, while all people interacted with maintain knowledge of the word, different meanings begin to shine through. While the most common definition (as attested by three out of five individuals) is a chimney, one individual defined τσιμινιά as the hearth, or fireplace, coinciding with Davy and Panaotou’s abovementioned definition, and another defined the word as a mantle-piece.

Whether this difference in definition is due to dialectical difference from the native location of first-generation immigrants (and their usage with subsequent generations) or is a result of semantic expansion as the kinds of homes lived in (and lives lived) change, is unknown. Further research will be needed before any consensus can truly be drawn. It is, however, evidence of a new form of Cypriot Greek, which I call Australo-Cypriot Greek, having developed primarily in the South-Eastern Australia region, stretching throughout South Australia and Victoria, with smaller communities in other states.

This community maintains the usage of many archaisms, such as the abovementioned τσιμινιά, yet also has loaned certain terms from the more prevalent English. One of the most interesting new loanwords is the word κιτζι, meaning kitchen. Κιτζι developed in the mid-to-late 60’s, according to my sources. Appendix 1 details an excerpt regarding this term from an interview I conducted with a Cypriot man born in 1959. As much of the Cypriot immigrant community from the period were only minimally literate,[20] [21] little records remain from the era, and as such we must rely on “word-of-mouth” sources. Due to its unique place as a diaspora exclusive lexeme, the term is not understood by most Cypriot Greeks, with the exception of the repatriated community, who use it sparingly. Of those who do know of the term, the majority are of the repatriated community, or descendants of immigrants.

An interesting facet of the term is the mutation of the word during the borrowing. When comparing words of Lusignan origin, it can (commonly, not universally) be seen that little to none of the phonemes have been removed, only altered to better fit the phonemic landscape of the recipient Cypriot dialects. Κιτζι, on the other hand, shows an apocopic clipping of the final consonant /n/, and an alteration of the final vowel from /ə/ to /i/. It could however be argued that this lexeme follows a different path of clipping, more suited to the donor language, a hypocoristic. In this scheme, the final vowel and consonant are removed and replaced by the /i/ phone, a common phenomenon in the Australian region. While the specific method of the loan formation is not known, the latter concept provides a not unhealthy amount of situational humour. Interestingly, the phoneme /t͡ʃ/ is replaced by /t͡s/, as in the words τσιμινιά/τζημνια and τσαερα, showing a consistency in loan phone mutation of this particular sound over a nearly 1000-year period.

In a 2021 Quora post, Cypriot Greek linguist Nick Nicholas details information from an untranslated book of famed Greek philologist Simos Menardos, in which he states Menardos’ intention to examine exclusively words of French origin in his work (including τσαερα), as opposed to those of Venetian or Genoese origin.[22] But while this provides an accredited source to the wider language of origin for our loanwords, it does not give us any specifics regarding dialect, which may help in the wider understanding of the origins of the terms above, and their particular use during their initial loan.

It should not be understated that the search for a true core dialect of influence is a difficult one, as, as with elsewhere, the French spoken on Cyprus developed into a unique dialect of its own. This is attested to by the Florentine Monk Giovanni dei Marignoli, who, while in at a stopover at Aleppo in 1352 on his journey from the court of the Great Khan, encountered some Cypriots who spoke “French in the Cypriot manner”.[23]

Hadjioannou argues for a Provencal origin for terms such as χαϊργιασμένος (gloomy), from Old French haïr (hate), and χανάππιν (goblet), from hanap (an obsolete term for goblet). He does so implying that the vast majority of the French loanwords borrowed into Cypriot Greek stem from the Provencal dialect, by citing the spelling of the abovementioned two words as closer to their 12^th century Provencal counterparts.[24] The outlandishness of this claim should be evident. Provencal has a “silent” /h/, and to argue that, during a period of heavy illiteracy, the average individual would maintain (and adapt to) a spelling system, rather than adopt the word as it was pronounced, is frankly absurd. This is especially the case in a dialectical environment that, to this day, does not have a standardised spelling for its synchronically variable village-local terms (Horkatika), nor a decently sized dictionary which includes them.[25] This can further be disproven by looking at the Provencal possible ancestor for the posterchild τσαερα, cadiera,[26] a notably less likely ancestor.

The French /h/ is important here, due to its development into the Cypriot Greek /χ/. This is shown to be a consistent phenomenon, with Hadjioannou using the examples above, and Davy and Panayotou providing further examples, such as χαρνέσι (from OF harnais, a strap-based harness).[27]

This notion, that the /h/ sound, labelled as “silent” in Provencal (and the majority of French dialects), is required to be present in some form, to account for the use of /χ/ in the Cypriot dialects, provides a starting point for to dialects to analyse. Davy and Panayotou argue that the voiced glottal fricative being present in the etymons must mean the dialect of greatest influence has heavy Frankish or Germanic influence.[28] This phenomenon can be witnessed in the French spoken by the people of Alsace, who, with continuous influence of German and Alsatian, currently voice their /h/.[29] However, it is possible that the dialect in question staved off the debuccalisation of the /s/, or the disappearance of the subsequently formed glottalic phoneme, until a later point. Despite the possibility of the latter, I am inclined to agree with Davy and Panayotou.

Following this line of thought leads us to examine those French speaking regions with the historically greatest influence of German and Frankish dialects, the Northern and Central regions of France.[30] This expanse includes two places with high historical connection to Cyprus, Poitou and Normandy, who’s local dialects are both members of the Germanic influenced langue d’oïl family.

Normandy is of historical significance for perhaps obvious reasons, with Richard the Lionheart being an Anglo-Norman king, and a speaker of the Norman dialect himself. Poitou, on the other hand, is a different beast, being the home of the Lusignan family. Indeed, the famous Lusignan kings of Cyprus were simply a cadet branch of the French noble family.

Aligning the requirement of a dialect with heavy Frankish influence with the diglossic situation of French becoming the language of the ruling class, not forgetting the Poitevin origins of the ruling family possibly forming an acrolect within the diglossia, we can safely assume the dialectical influence. That is, on a wider level, primarily Northern French dialects of multiple varieties interacted with, and influenced, Cypriot Greek (a result of feudal social structures), but the Poitevin dialect provided the highest direct influence, primarily through the development of the unique Cypriot French dialect formed under the reigning Poitevin Lusignan monarchy.

Over the previous eight pages, a linguistic history of Cyprus has been established, making clear the incredible cultural and linguistic diversity present on the Island since its most ancient pant, lasting until present. From there, in order to set the stage for what would come, five words loaned into Cypriot Greek were discussed, detailing their etymology and etymythology in a polychronic manner. The variance in the sources for the abovementioned words has allowed a comparativistic examination of each (where necessary). This has stoked the forging flame, providing the opportunity to analyse the claim of scholars such as Hadjiannou in their views of Provencal donorism as the primary manner of Lusignan-based Cypriot Greek loanword formation. Through such analysis, the notion has been thoroughly dismissed, and the validity of the theory of Northern Old French (primarily Poitevin) has been shown to be a much more likely candidate for primary influencer. While this is far from the final word on the topic (as the abovementioned words of Genoese and Venetian origin have not been the focus of this paper), eliminating the Provencal primarist branch of the discussion is an essential step forward in understanding the varying Cypriot Greek dialects.

Appendix 1: Interview with an Australian-Born Cypriot (M, b.1959)

An excerpt from an interview, relating to the loanword “κιτζι”. Profanity removed.

Interviewee: “I remember my mum saying κιτζι, δο κιτζι, y’know, kitchen, when we went to Cyprus in the 80’s, and the rest of the family there just staring at her, confused. She was so embarrassed. Because most Cypriots use the mainland Greek ‘κουζινα’. They had never heard it before.

Author: “When do you think the word was first used?”

Interviewee: “*sigh* No idea, it was used every now and again when I was a little tacker, then around fifty fifty with κουζινα, then it was the main word.”

Author: “Do you remember how old you were when it started increasing in usage?”

Interviewee: “Oh I don’t know! I was young!”

Author: “Roughly”

Interviewee: “Ehhh, maybe five or six, then we used it all the time when I was ten or twelve”

References

[1] The Bacchae of Euripides, translated by Gilbert Murray. Available at: https://gutenberg.ca/ebooks/murrayeuripides-bacchae/murrayeuripides-bacchae-00-h-dir/murrayeuripides-bacchae-00-h.html (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

[2] Haarmann, H. (1996) in Early civilization and literacy in Europe: An inquiry into cultural continuity in the Mediterranean World. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, pp. 109–116.

[3] "Multilingual linguistic landscape of Cyprus" (2023), p. Available at: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14790718.2022.2096890 (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

[4] Greek language - Mycenaean Script, Alphabet, Dialects, and Rulers from Achaean to Dorian (2023). Available at: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Greek-language/The-Greek-alphabet#ref603479 (Accessed: 4 June 2023).

[5] Luke, H. (1957) in Cyprus: A portrait and an appreciation, by sir Harry Luke. London: G. C. Harrap, pp. 34–41

[6] Davy, J. and Panayotou, A. (1997) “French loans in Cypriot Greek,” Actes du colloque tenu à Lyon, p. 115. Available at: https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_1849#mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_T1_0125_0000. (Accessed: 15 May 2023).

[7] Davy, J., Ioannou, Y. and Panayotou, A. (1996) ‘French and English loans in Cypriot Diglossia’, Actes du colloque tenu à Lyon, 25, pp. 129–131. Available at: https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_1274-6525_1996_act_25_1_1826 (Accessed: 5 June 2023).

[8] Playing cards | Names, Games, & History (2023). Available at: https://www.britannica.com/topic/playing-card (Accessed: 9 May 2023).

[9] Dame, Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/47043?rskey=tqGeM5&result=1&isAdvanced=true#firstMatch (Accessed: 15 May 2023).

[10] Cyprus Colony (2023). Available at: https://www.britishempire.co.uk/maproom/cyprus.htm (Accessed: 14 March 2023).

[11] Urban Dictionary: tsaera (2023). Available at: https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=tsaera (Accessed: 18 March 2023).

[12] Τι είναι η Τσαέρα; (2015) periergos.gr. Available at: https://www.periergos.gr/erotiseis/ti-einai-i-tsaera (Accessed: 5 June 2023).

[13] Cypriot Words (2022). Available at: https://www.reddit.com/r/cyprus/comments/ub09x4/cypriot_words/ (Accessed: 18 March 2023)

[14] Davy, J., Ioannou, Y. and Panayotou, A. (1996) ‘French and English loans in Cypriot Diglossia’, Actes du colloque tenu à Lyon, 25, p. 132. Available at: https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_1274-6525_1996_act_25_1_1826 (Accessed: 5 June 2023).

[15] Luke, H. (1957) in Cyprus: A portrait and an appreciation, by sir Harry Luke. London: G. C. Harrap, p. 41.

[16] Chair | Etymology, origin and meaning of chair by etymonline (2023). Available at: https://www.etymonline.com/word/chair (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

[17] Chair : Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/30215?rskey=PMXBHR&result=1&isAdvanced=false#eid (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

[18] Dawkins, R.M. (1930) ‘The vocabulary of the Mediaeval Cypriot Chronicle op Leontios Makhairas’, Transactions of the Philological Society, 30(1), p. 314. doi:10.1111/j.1467-968x.1930.tb00849.x.

[19] Davy, J. and Panayotou, A. (1997) “French loans in Cypriot Greek,” Actes du colloque tenu à Lyon, p. 114. Available at: https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_1849#mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_T1_0125_0000. (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

[20] Cyprus - Education (2023). Available at: https://countrystudies.us/cyprus/27.htm (Accessed: 12 June 2023).

[21] Fotiou, C. (2022) "English in Cyprus", English Today, pp. 1-7. doi: 10.1017/s0266078422000268.

[22] Nicholas, N. (2021) ‘What are some examples of French influence on Cypriot Greek?’, Quora, 13 November. Available at: https://qr.ae/pyFr5d (Accessed: 15 May 2023).

[23] Dawkins, R.M. (1930) ‘The vocabulary of the Mediaeval Cypriot Chronicle op Leontios Makhairas’, Transactions of the Philological Society, 30(1), p. 326. doi:10.1111/j.1467-968x.1930.tb00849.x.

[24] Hadjioannou, K. (1991) Περι τῶν ἐν τῆ μεσαιωνικη και νεωτέρᾳ κυπριακῆ ξένων γλωσσικων στοιχείων. 2nd rev. ed. Nicosia: Rotary Club of Cyprus.

[25] Arvaniti, A. (1999) ‘Cypriot Greek’, Journal of the International Phonetic Association, 29(2), p. 173. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/44526245 (Accessed: 12 June 2023).

[26] Cadièra - Wiktionary (2023). Available at: https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/cadi%C3%A8ra (Accessed: 13 June 2023).

[27] Davy, J. and Panayotou, A. (1997) “French loans in Cypriot Greek,” Actes du colloque tenu à Lyon, p. 116. Available at: https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_1849#mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_T1_0125_0000. (Accessed: 15 May 2023).

[28] Davy, J. and Panayotou, A. (1997) “French loans in Cypriot Greek,” Actes du colloque tenu à Lyon, p. 119. Available at: https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_1849#mom_1274-6525_2000_act_31_1_T1_0125_0000. (Accessed: 15 May 2023).

[29] Vaissière, J. (1996) ‘From Latin to Modern French: on diachronic changes and synchronic Variations’, Institut für Phonetik und digitale Sprachverarbeitung, 31, p. 69. Available at: https://shs.hal.science/halshs-00365006/PDF/vaissiere_1996_from_latin_to_modern_French.pdf. (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

[30] Brief History of the French Language, Discover the Origin of French | Newsdle (2023). Available at: https://www.newsdle.com/blog/a-brief-history-of-the-french-language (Accessed: 10 June 2023).

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