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An International Journal of English Studies
GUEST REVIEWERS
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Gianmarco Vignozzi, University of Pisa
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Joanna Zaleska, Humboldt University of Berlin
31/2 2022
EDITORS
Marzena Sokołowska-Paryż [m.a.sokolowska-paryz@uw.edu.pl]
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ASSOCIATE EDITORS
Silvia Bruti [silvia.bruti@unipi.it]
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ASSISTANT EDITORS
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ADVISORY BOARD
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Andrea Herrera, University of Colorado, Colorado Springs
Christopher Knight, University of Montana,
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Krystyna Kujawińska-Courtney, University of Łódź
Brian Lowrey, Université de Picardie Jules Verne, Amiens
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Peter de Voogd, University of Utrecht
Anna Walczuk, Jagiellonian University, Cracow
Jean Ward, University of Gdańsk
Jerzy Wełna, University of Warsaw
Florian Zappe, University of Göttingen
Anglica An International Journal of English Studies
ISSN 0860-5734
www.anglica-journal.com
DOI: 10.7311/Anglica/31.2
Publisher:
Institute of English Studies University of Warsaw
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Copyright 2022 by Institute of English Studies University of Warsaw
All right reserved
Typesetting:
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Cover design:
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Lise Hamelin and Dominique Legallois
Accounting for the Semantics of the NP V NP Construction in English. . . 5
Veronika Volná and Pavlína Šaldová
The Dynamics of Postnominal Adjectives in Middle English . . . . . . . . . 31
Concha Castillo
The Status of English Modals Prior to Their Recategorization as T and the
Trigger for Their Recategorization. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
Paweł Kornacki
Wok (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword: Exploring Semantic
Insights from an Indigenous Tok Pisin Play . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Paulina Zagórska
Post-Conquest Forged Charters Containing English: A List . . . . . . . . . . 93
Jarosław Wiliński
Conventional Knowledge, Pictorial Elucidation, Etymological Motivation,
and Structural Elaboration in a Thematic Dictionary of Idioms . . . . . . . 109
Viktoria Verde
Creativity in Second Language Learning and Use: Theoretical Foundations
and Practical Implications. A Literature Review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
Bochra Kouraichi and Márta Lesznyák
Teachers’ Use of Motivational Strategies in the EFL Classroom: A Study of
Hungarian High Schools . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
77
Anglica 31/2 2022
ISSN: 0860-5734
DOI: 10.7311/0860-5734.31.2.04
Paweł Kornacki
d https://orcid.org/0000-0001-6145-6085
University of Warsaw
Wok (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword:
Exploring Semantic Insights
from an Indigenous Tok Pisin1 Play
Abstract: This paper oers a preliminary cultural semantic exploration of a key social
concept of the Melanesian worldview advanced in the anthropological literature of the
area. It is argued that the cultural meaning of this notion can be accessed by focusing on
the relevant contextual and semantic properties of the corresponding Tok Pisin lexical
unit wok(im) (‘work’) examined in a noteworthy cultural text approached as a source of
linguistic evidence.
Keywords: Tok Pisin, creole, cultural keyword, cultural semantics, Melanesia, worldview
1. Introduction: between English words and Melanesian values
While the word Melanesia itself is not of Melanesian origin (see Lawson 2013 for
a critical history of the idea), attempts have been made at identifying a signicant
group of ‘Melanesian Values’ meant to pinpoint salient cultural commitments
of Melanesian peoples. In fact, observing unity in the considerable diversity of
local languages and cultural practices has been one of the enduring concerns of
Melanesian ethnography, leading to the emergence of the notion of the Melanesian
worldview. Following this line of thought, early British ethnographers of Melanesia
came up with lists of cultural values, practices, prominent native words, and
symbolic items which aimed to capture many – if not all – distinctive characteristics
shared by Melanesian societies. For example, one of the early illustrative works of
that genre, Francis Edgar Williams’ (1932) Anthropology Report No.12 Sentiments
and Leading Ideas in Native Society contained a brief description of twelve ‘leading
ideas’ of Melanesian societies, spelt out as follows:
Paweł Kornacki78
(1) ‘Native Conservatism: The Attachment to Tradition’, (2) ‘Corporate Self-
Regard: Pride in Culture’, (3) ‘Individual Self-Regard: Self-Display’, (4) ‘Loyalty
to Group: Clannishness’, (5) ‘Intra-Group Sentiment: The Sympathetic Sanction’,
(6) ‘The Sense of Shame’, (7) ‘Sentiment toward Relatives by Marriage’, (8)
‘Respect for Seniority’, (9) ‘Sentiments toward the Dead’, (10) ‘Tribal Secrets:
The Mysteries’, (11) ‘The Economic Balance: Reciprocity’, (12) ‘Pride in Food
Production: The Cult of Food’.
When looking at the content and wording of Williams’ list from a cultural
semantic point of view (see Wierzbicka 2016), however, one cannot but observe
that it was only in number (6) ‘The Sense of Shame’ that Williams went on to asso-
ciate some actual indigenous words with that particular ‘leading idea’ (1932,1). In
order to clarify his observation, Williams further noted that “the word ‘shame’ is
thoroughly embedded in pidgin-English” (cf. its contemporary Tok Pisin sound-
alike sem (with its original meaning of ‘male or female genital organs’), while “we
have hemarai as its counterpart in pidgin-Motuan”. Other than that, he surmised
that “It is probable that in every native language in the Territory we should nd a
roughly corresponding term and concept (Orokaiva, meh; Elema, maioka; etc.)”
(Williams 1932, 1).
The relative paucity of linguistic evidence notwithstanding, it appears that a
salient feature of the hypothesis of the Melanesian worldview presented in such
early anthropological writings, was its marked attention to the local notional fac-
tors, clearly conveyed in the title of Williams’ essay, which specied two related
groups of target concepts, namely ‘sentiments and leading ideas’. In particular, the
reality of a worldview conceived along such lines was ostensibly connected to the
nature of Melanesian symbolic constructs and interpretive routines.
In more recent times, however, the postulate of approaching Melanesia as a
cultural area has been intertwined with an acknowledgement of the constitutive role
of Melanesian Pidgin (cf. Lynch 1998, 221–232; note 1) in sustaining the emergent
Melanesian cultural identity. Consequently, the task of identifying Melanesian
values became tied to the language which furnished the common lexical and con-
ceptual currency of the area, namely Melanesian Pidgin. Several scholars – both
Melanesians and outsiders – routinely pointed to some common cultural priorities
clearly favoured by Melanesian societies. For example, as claimed by Vallance,
“Melanesian ontology will be grounded in relationships. These relationships will
be primarily communal” (2007, 7). Indeed, it appears that this proposal has been
shared by both past and present scholars of Melanesian societies, such as Hukula
(2017) and Narokobi (1983), who refer to kin-like relatedness as one of the key
cultural features of Melanesian societies. It merits attention that the idea of common
cultural identity spans many aspects of individual Pacic societies. For instance,
as argued by Vallance (2007, 5), it is “Melanesians’ sense of unity within many
divisions of languages, geography and levels of socio-economic development,
particularly low levels of adult literacy (…)”, which, in their turn “uniquely stamp
Wo k (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword… 79
the Melanesian world view”. Thus, it seems plausible to maintain that the thesis of
the Melanesian worldview is hardly controversial anymore, while its precise scope
and conceptual content remain relatively exible if not fully eshed-out.
2. Melanesian values in Melanesian words: Franklin’s (2007) contribution
A valuable contribution to anthropological research on Melanesian leading
ideas has been an attempt at capturing their unique signicance with specic
Melanesian lexical items stemming from Melanesian Pidgin, rather than simply
axing their indigenous cultural meanings with common (and culture-specic)
English words. In recent years, the eminent scholar of Melanesian languages and
cultures Karl J. Franklin put forward a group of ten values targeted to delineate
the Melanesian worldview. His notable paper titled “Framework for a Melanesian
World View” (2007) oered a lexically detailed statement of the hypothesised
content of Melanesian cultural ideology, encompassing a list of “Some Key
Terms When Discussing Values in Tok Pisin” (2007, 42–47). His full list of “Key
Terms” includes more than seventy Tok Pisin words and expressions grouped
around the following broad values which constitute the conceptual scaolding of
the Melanesian worldview identied by Franklin:
1. The value of land (graun or wara)
2. The value of the clan (lain or wantok)
3. The value of reciprocity (bekim, bekim bek)
4. The value of food (kaikai, mumu)
5. The value of ancestors (tumbuna, tambaran)
6. The value of ritual (tambu, singsing, lotu)
7. The value of leadership (hetman)
8. The value of education (skul)
9. The value of compensation (peibek, bekim, birua)
10. The value of work (wok)
However, one can hardly overlook that the ten core Melanesian values pin-
pointed by Franklin with English words, subsumed a score of Tok Pisin lexical
items, an observation which inevitably leads one to consider an interpretive issue
of the actual semantic relationship between English words and indigenous cultural
concepts expressed in Tok Pisin. While the formal side (spelling and pronunciation)
of an English-lexied creole language may supercially remind one of English,
it actually (and misleadingly – for native speakers of the lexier language) bears
a complex semantic relationship with its chief lexical donor language, as amply
demonstrated by recent studies on the semantics of pidgin and creole languages,
both from descriptive-typological and anthropological linguistic perspectives (see,
Paweł Kornacki80
e.g. Huttar 2008; Hollington 2015) Consequently, in order to access the relevant
usage of creole words, their meanings need to be unravelled in their informative
cultural context. In the case of this paper, such a context is assumed to be found
in a piece of indigenous literature written in Tok Pisin and originally intended to
depict the realities of life and the communicative universe of its users, captured in
a historically memorable cross-cultural incident.
3. From Tok Pisin literary discourse to Melanesian cultural semantics
Writing about the emergence of literary production in Tok Pisin, Laycock (1985,
504) distinguished three “separate strands of literature” created in this language:
1. folk literature: songs, stories, and speeches of indigenous Tok Pisin speakers,
transmitted orally.
2. writings in Tok Pisin by Europeans, for the most part translations.
3. deliberate ‘literary’ creations in Tok Pisin by indigenous writers and published
over their own names.
As pointed out by Laycock, “self-conscious creative writing in Tok Pisin by local-
born authors is a comparatively new phenomenon; outlets for publication in this
eld have been available only since 1969” (1985, 504). Adding to Laycock’s
division, one might note that during the debates about the social role of Tok Pisin
during the pre-independence period of Papua New Guinea, some scholars took up
the issue of Tok Pisin’s considerable relevance in the development of local literary
discourse. For instance, Roger Boschman, the editor of the literary journal Papua
New Guinea Writing, addressed its readers in his essay, headed by a pertinent
question: “Pidgin for literature?”
There has been much discussion over the years as to the importance of the lingua
franca, Neo-Melanesian Pidgin English, to the future of Papua New Guinea. In many
minds Pidgin contests heavily with English as the future ocial national language of
Papua New Guinea. (…) What about Pidgin as a language of literature? (Boschman
1973, 1)
A potentially distinct national identity-building role of the chief local contact
language has also been noted by other scholars studying sociolinguistic aspects of
nationhood building in the late pre-independence period of Papua New Guinea (i.e.
shortly before 1975). For example, Romaine (1995, 95), writing about pre- statehood
debates which centred around the envisaged political and social status of Tok Pisin
in the emerging state of Papua New Guinea, pointed to a simultaneous rise in
the use of Tok Pisin as the language of nascent Papua New Guinean literature,
Wo k (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword… 81
broadly conceived as the expression of “nationalist sentiment”. Signicantly, Tok
Pisin came to be used in several prominent novels and plays written at that time
(Romaine 1995, 95), one of which was Rabbie Namaliu’s “semi-historical” play
Maski Kaunsil published in 1975. Romaine (1995, 95), who translates the title of
Namaliu’s play as Never Mind Council, emphasizes the historical context of Tok
Pisin literary output of that time, underscoring its signicance in the climate of
pre-independence Papua New Guinea:
In the period leading up to self-government many felt that they were using literature to
express nationalist sentiment and to help create a national identity. Many playwrights
became politicians.
Romaine’s observation appears to be particularly apt with respect to the person
of Rabbie Namaliu (Sir Rabbie Langanai Namaliu), a former prime minister of
Papua New Guinea (1988–1992) and the author of two plays written in Tok Pisin:
The Good Woman of Konedobu (1970) and Maski Kaunsil (1975) The second work
has been classied as a “semi-historical” play which is concerned with “village and
administrative conicts” (Goetzfridt 1995, 22). More specically, the key elements
of the depicted conict were originally fuelled by transitioning from an earlier
luluai (Tolai3 ‘chief, leader in war’) village administrative system introduced by
Germans, towards the development of kivung na baramana ( Tolai ‘young men’s
council or assembly’) and then to the system of local native government councils
( kaunsil) aimed to “pave the way for fuller participation in government and pol-
itics at the territorial level” (see Epstein 1969, 251-252). The play was inspired
by an actual event which took place in East New Britain Province of Papua New
Guinea, towards the end of 1951. As recounted by Epstein (1969, 251-252), John
Keith McCarthy, District Commissioner of Rabaul, visited the village of Raluana to
persuade the Tolai people there to accept a new form of local (native) government
council – called kaunsil in Tok Pisin – as a benecial form of administration. Yet,
the inhabitants remained adamant, and the meeting quickly developed into a brawl,
during which McCarthy was struck over his head with a crutch. Subsequently, the
villagers who took part in the brawl got arrested and sentenced to a six-month
prison sentence.
Before embarking on the actual analysis of the relevant fragment of that text,
however, a few clarifying remarks about the use of native literature as evidence in
ethnolinguistic research deserve to be presented. Mining an indigenous literary text
for insights into links between the cultural meanings of local words and commu-
nicative practices of their users is not new in the eld of ethnolinguistic studies. For
example, the idea of using dramatic scripts as anthropological evidence in linguistic
and cultural research on pidgin and creole languages has been pursued by Worman
(2006, 35), who pointed to some hard-to-neglect advantages of using certain kinds
of indigenous literary production as data for linguistic inquiry:
Paweł Kornacki82
Staged speech represents the variety of speech that is written to be spoken and may
come closest to “ordinary” spoken speech. Not only does staged speech represent
the variety “written to be spoken,” but modern drama is in some sense thought to be
superior to a corpus based on spoken language since the latter may be less thoughtfully
conceived and expressed and thus poorer in reecting the prototypical tendencies in
a language. (Dirven et al. 1982, 6-7)
It is worth emphasizing that the idea of approaching indigenous literature as a
source of evidence in studies of languages and cultures has been upheld not only
by anthropological linguists, but also by cultural psychologists, such as Murray
Thomas (2001, 22), who argued that “communicative and creative products of a
culture often mirror important elements of society’s folk psychology”. Taking cue
from the preceding recommendation, the present paper seeks to oer a cultural
semantic reading of a fragment of one indigenous text, representative of the third
group of Tok Pisin literary creations, focusing on one signicant lexical item which
runs through the verbal exchanges of participants.
4. Work and wok as respective cultural keywords
of Anglo and Melanesian cultures
Williams (1985, 266–268), who counted work as one of the cultural keywords of
the Anglo English-speaking world, observed that “as our most general word for
doing something, and for something done, its range of applications has of course
been enormous. What is now most interesting is its predominant specialization
to regular paid employment”. While the idea that the word work constitutes an
example of a culturally prominent lexical and discursive construct in English
is by no means surprising (see Goddard and Ye 2015, 69 for another account),
it seems interesting to uncover what happened to this culturally salient word,
when it was ‘recycled’ – as per Iteanu’s (2015) felicitous phrase2 – as wok in
Melanesian cultural environment, which oered a dierent linguistic and social
picture in this regard.
According to Franklin (2007, 36–38), research on Melanesian languages
pointed to a lack of a general translational equivalent of a common English verb
to work. Characteristically, an indigenous language such as Kewa (studied and
described by Franklin) provided a variety of forms depending upon the exact nature
of the task, relating them to specic functions within culture, and not to time or
payment (Franklin 2007, 37). With the advent of that new meaning contained in
the English word work, the multiplicity of native words received the salient super-
ordinate Tok Pisin term wok, which placed them in an altogether new conceptual
order. As Franklin explained, “(…) once “work” was imported into the culture
by the government and missionaries, a broader descriptive label was necessary
Wo k (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword… 83
to refer to the kinds of work that had specic time and wage constraints” (2007,
37). Arguably, one of the valuable anthropological insights aorded by Namaliu’s
play is that it furnishes a native literary rendering of an instance of a cross-cultural
encounter where the two culturally pregnant Tok Pisin words wok (n) and wokim
(vt) were brought into the communicative focus of village-level activities of collec-
tive debating and decision making. As expected, such activities engaged both the
local Melanesian people (speaking Tok Pisin and Tolai
3
) and a prominent Australian
administrative ocer (speaking Tok Pisin and English) and his party.
Before examining the use of wok in a fragment of connected discourse, brief
information about the chief linguistic properties of this Tok Pisin lexical item is
necessary, as the descriptive linguistic categorisation of wok is quite complex. Todd
(1984, 191) classies this lexical element as a multifunctional transitive adjective
verb: wok(im) AVTM <Eng. ‘work + ‘em’>, which she glosses as ‘build, work,
be busy’. Another broad set of glosses given by Baing and Volker (2008, 121-
122) includes nominal and verbal English equivalents grouped as (1) ‘work, task,
occupation’ and (2) ‘to work, process, produce, grow’. Linguistic reections of
that characteristic cultural scheme identied by Franklin (2007, 37), namely, ner
gradations and specications of ‘work’ which followed the spread of Melanesian
Pidgin as the chief tool of intercultural communication in Melanesian societies – are
present in a productive nominal compound pattern of wok + N(oun), such as e.g.
wok bisnis (‘business activities’), wok kamda (‘woodworking’, work + camden),
or wok mani (work + money, ‘work for a wage’, paid employment’), etc. At the
same time, the formative wok also became a part of Tok Pisin’s tense-modality-
aspect (TMA) system. Dutton and Thomas (2002, 104-105) point to the ‘wok long
+ verb’ structure, which, they say “is a very common structure that is used for to be
busy doing something; to work at doing something”. Signicantly, however, this
construction does not entail any exertion on the part of a volitional human being
at all, the meaning which they illustrate with the following dialogue:
Man: Ya. Olsem na mi raun i stap bilong painim wok. Tasol ol i no gat wok.
Yes. And so, I’m going around looking for work. But no one has any.
Isaia: Nau yu wokim wanem i stap?
What are you wanting to do now?
Man: Mi wok long sindaun nating tasol na wetim wok bai i kamap.
I’m busy sitting down doing nothing waiting for jobs to come up.
While this one, and numerous similar examples adduced by Dutton and Thomas
(2002, 104-105) demonstrate that the words wok (n) and wokim (vt) are part and
parcel of colloquial Tok Pisin, their cultural signicance merits investigation. As
emphasized by Franklin, the concept of wok originally surfaced as a ‘recycled’
English notion in specic social settings, i.e. bound to governmental, administrative,
and missionary activities. As such, it became welded both to the native concepts
Paweł Kornacki84
and practices of social administrative power (such as kivung – ‘village meeting’),
as well as to the new means of redistributing wealth, such as moni (‘money’) and
takis (‘taxes’) introduced by the colonial administration. For example, economic
changes brought about in the area represented in Namaliu’s play resulted in the
introduction of such novel economic practices and concepts as those of ‘work for
wages’, ‘contract work’, and ‘taxes’ (see Epstein 1969, 57–65). In order to facilitate
such social changes, the then Australian administration proceeded to introduce a
new type of native governing bodies, referred to as local administrative councils,
which, however, ended up in conict with the original kivung, which opposed the
paying of taxes (Epstein 1969, 57–65).
5. Bringing kaunsil, wok and takis to Raluana:
creole words and misread social intentions
Rabbie Namaliu’s play Maski Kaunsil (1975) takes four acts to recount the full
progress of the memorable 1951 encounter between the inhabitants of Raluana
village and John Keith McCarthy, an experienced Australian local administrative
ocer. The purpose of this section, however, is to oer a translation and a cultural
linguistic commentary of a short fragment from Scene Two of the play (1975:17–
21), which consists of thirteen adjacent utterances of McCarthy and several
villagers, who come to a strong disagreement about the newly proposed type
of representative body (named kaunsil in Tok Pisin) supposedly connected with
various kinds of benecial wok (‘work’) which the introduction of the kaunsil-based
representative system should enable. However, the villagers of Raluana remain
unwilling to accept that new administrative concept (rightly expecting unwelcome
shifts in local politics), accuse McCarthy of ‘cheating/tricking’ (giamanim) them,
arguing instead, that their native kivung (‘village meeting/assembly’) serves their
needs better.
The translation below follows Duranti’s (1997,156-157) Format II, which con-
sists of original text and parallel free translation. Whenever necessary, additional
types of glossing are used as well. All instances of the key Tok Pisin word wok (n)
and wokim (vt) are in bold, while other contextually relevant Tok Pisin words (e.g.
kaunsil) are italicized in both the original and the translated texts.
The scene was preceded by an announcement that the current kivung (village
assembly) has been summoned to announce an important meeting with the local
area’s kiap (government ocer in pre-independence Papua New Guinea) intended
to instruct villagers about their wok (‘work’) following the gathering. The village
crowd has assembled on the grounds of their local primary school.
Wo k (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword… 85
(1) Scene Two, p.18: Makati
Mi bin kam hia bipo long toktok long dispela samting
kaunsil. Nau gen mi wantaim ol man hia, yupela ken
lukim long painimaut sapos yupela senisim tingting
bilong yupela long dispela samting kaunsil. Yupela
harim pinis ol bilong Nangananga na Toma. Nason
ToKabait em i stap wantaim yumi nau. Ating yupela
olgeta i save long em. Olsem wanem yupela strong
yet long yupela i no laik kirapim kaunsil, o yupela
orait long en. Mi laik tokim yupela gen long dispela
samting, sapos yupela kirapim wanpela kaunsil olsem
ol ples hia mi tokim yupela long ol, bambai yupela
yet inap long ronim sampela samting long ples bilong
yupela. Bambai yupela yet inap long kisim takis
olsem mani, na bambai yupela yet inap toktok long
wanem wok yupela laikim lusim dispela mani long
en. Bambai yupela ken nap long wokim dispela mani
long en. Bambai yupela ken nap long wokim nupela
haus. long skul bilong yupela, long kapa na palang na
simen. Olsem tu. bambai yupela inap long stretim ol
liklik trabel long ples bilong yupela yet long Raluana.
Gavman bambai i givim planti helpim mo long ples
bilong yupela
McCarthy –
I came here before to talk about this thing, kaunsil.
Now, as for me and other men here, you can nd out
if you changed your mind about this thing, kaunsil.
You have heard about (the villages of) Nangananga
and Toma. Nason ToKabait is with us now. Perhaps,
you know about him. Why are you so hard set against
setting up a kaunsil, or are you alright with it? I want
to talk to you again about this thing, if you set up a
kaunsil, like the villages I’m telling you about you will
be able to run some things in your village. Soon, you
will receive tax money, and soon you yourselves will
be able to discuss what wok you would like to spend
your tax money on. Soon you will be able to wokim
(use) that money on it. Soon you will be able to wokim
(build) a new house for your school, with roong iron,
sawn timber, and cement. Thus, you will be able to
settle your small problems in your village of Raluana.
Government will give you much more help in your
village.
(2) Scene 2, p.18: Kepas
Tenkyu tru Makati long toktok bilong yu. (He turns
to the crowd and continues) Yumi harim pinis toktok
bilong nambawan kiap bilong yumi. Olsem wanem
long tingting bilong yupela long dispela samting,
kaunsil? Yumi harim pinis ol gutpela samting yumi nap
wokim long takis mani. Olsem tu ol bilong Vunamami
na Reimber, na Nangananga, ol kirapim pinis kaunsil
bilong ol. Nason em i stap wantaim yumi nau, na mi
ting em bambai toktok bihain long dispela samting. I
gat toktok long yupela long dispela samting?
Kepas –
Thank you, McCarthy for your speech. (…) We have
heard the speech of our most important kiap. What do
you think about this something, kaunsil, then? We have
heard about the good things we can wokim with tax
money. Also, the villages of Vunamimi and Reimber,
and Nangananga, they have set up their own kaunsil.
Nason is here with us now, and I think he will speak
about this later. Is there anything you want to say about
it?
(3) Scene Two, p.18: Tuvi (addressing the crowd and
Makati and his party on behalf of the people)
Tenkyu tru Mr Makati long toktok bilong yu. Kaunsil
em i gutpela samting na i bikpela samting, tasol mipela
i no redi long en yet. Yu gutpela pren bilong mipela
yet long Raluana, tasol mipela i no ting mipela inap
yet long en. Olsem mipela i no laik kirapim wanpela
kaunsil yet long ples bilong mipela nau. Ating long
bihaintaim, sapos mipela redi pinis orait bambai
mipela tokim yu.
Tuvi –
Thank you, Mr McCarthy for your speech. Kaunsil
is something good and something big, but we are not
ready yet. You are a good friend of us here, in Raluana,
but we think we are not up to it yet. That’s why we
don’t want to set up a kaunsil in our village yet.
Maybe later, when we are ready, we will tell you.
Paweł Kornacki86
(4) Scene Two, p.18: Makati
Mi no ting em i tru. Yupela gat tisa pinis olsem yu
Tuvi, na yupela gat planti man tu ol wok long taun na
long sampela hap long Papua na Nu Gini. Yupela gat
bikpela save pinis long inap kirapim wanpela kaunsil.
Wanem kain save yupela laikim? Mi laikim yupela tok
save mo long wanem tru yupela i no laikim kaunsil.
McCarthy –
I don’t think this is true. You all have already had a
teacher, like you, Tuvi, and you have also had many
men who wok in towns and other places in Papua and
New Guinea. You have had sucient experience/
knowledge to assemble a kaunsil. What kind of knowl-
edge do you want? I want you to tell me more, why
really you don’t want kaunsil.
(5) Scene Two, p.18: Kepas
(attempting to calm the crowd)
Em i no samting long tok kros long en, em samting
long stretim. Mi laikim bambai yumi tok stret long
ol. Mi laikim bambai Tuvi i toksave long ol tingting
bilong yumi olgeta.
Kepas –
This isn’t something to speak angrily about, this is
something to settle straight. I want us (incl.) to speak
straight with everybody. I want Tuvi to explain our
thinking to everybody.
(6) Scene Two, p.18: Tuvi (getting up and addressing
Makati and his party)
Mr Makati, mipela i laikim kaunsil tumas, tasol mipela
i nogat save long ronim kaunsil. Mipela i no gat mani
long baim takis. Yu save mipela gat kivung pinis. Dis-
pela samting mipela ting em bilong ol pikinini bilong
mipela long bihain. Long taim ol i gat planti mani na
bikpela save, bambai ol i ken toksave long yu long
gavman long kirapim wanpela kaunsil.
Tuvi –
Mr McCarthy, we really want a kaunsil, but we don’t
have knowledge to run a kaunsil. We don’t have money
to pay taxes. I know, we just have a kivung. This thing
is something for our children in the future. When they
have a lot of money and a lot of knowledge, then they
can inform you in the government to set up a kaunsil.
As observed by Franklin (2007), Tok Pisin words wok (n) and wokim (vt)
characteristically emerged in the administrative discourse of colonial Melanesia.
The rst utterance of McCarthy (Makati) contains all contextual hallmarks described
by Franklin – nouns takis (‘tax’) and mani (‘money’) appear in discourse as linked
to the new concept of wok. All kinds and materials of work which are described
by McCarthy in his introductory words are indicated as clearly conducive to the
welfare of the villagers of Raluana (1), who are going to be better o thanks to the
availability of modern building materials (sawn timber, roong iron, etc.) and a
possible surplus of money. However, the two villagers Kepas (2) and Tuvi (3) try to
tone down and postpone the introduction of the administrative kaunsil which might
herald such impressive changes, appealing to their own feigned ignorance (Tuvi,
3 and 6) Yet, McCarthy (Makati) refuses to believe the explanations he received,
appealing to Tuvi’s experience as a teacher, as well as to the fact that many men
from Raluana already wok (‘work’) in a number of towns in Papua New Guinea (4)
A stand-o ensues, as both McCarthy and the villagers realise that their arguments
do not really work as they had expected (8, below).
Wo k (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword… 87
(7) Scene Two, p.19: Tuvi
(talking to Kepas and Penias)
Makati i strong yet hia. Yumi no ken pret tumas long
tok strong. Yumi mas tok strong long yumi i no laikim
kaunsil.
Tuvi –
McCarthy is strong here. We mustn’t be afraid to
oppose (him). We must argue that we don’t want a
kaunsil.
(8) Scene Two, p.19: Makati
Tenkyu tru, mipela harim pinis sampela toktok bilong
yupela, tasol mipela tu i no save tru long wanem yupela
i no laikim kaunsil.
McCarthy –
Thank you, we have listened to some of your words,
but we don’t really know why you don’t want a kaunsil.
(9) Scene Two, p.19: Tuvi
Mr Makati, mipela i no gat mo toktok long dispela
samting. Mipela tokim yu pinis long olget tingting
bilong mipela, i mobeta sapos yumi larim dispela
samting.
Tuvi –
Mr McCarthy, we have nothing more to say about this
thing. We have told you everything that we think, it’ll
be better if we let go of this thing.
As McCarthy senses that his words achieve no eect, he moves to threaten Tuvi,
just like the latter expected (7). Predictably, he threatens to remove Tuvi from his
wok (‘work’) conveying that Tuvi is by no means as poor and ignorant as he claims
to be (10). At this moment, another local man cuts in, verbally attacking McCarthy
(11) and accusing him of trying to trick and confuse (giamanim) them with their
concept of kaunsil, just like the White people (ol masta) used to do before, when
they appropriated their land for metal tools and stick tobacco (tabak).
(10) Scene Two, p.19: Makati
Tuvi, sapos yu tok gen olsem bambai nau tasol mi
rausim yu long wok bilong yu. Yu harim? Husat i tok
yupela i nogat mani, husat i tok yupela i nogat bikpela
save, husat i save giamanim yupela long ol dispela kain
toktok? Husat i . . .
McCarthy –
Tuvi, if you speak like this again, I will throw you out
of your wok. Do you hear? Who says you (pl) don’t
have money, who says you (pl) don’t have much
knowledge, who tricks you (pl) with this kind of talk?
Who …
Paweł Kornacki88
(11) Scene Two, p.19: Third Man (getting up and
talking angrily)
Orait Makati, yu ken givim toktok long mipela long
wanem samting yu laik. Tasol mipela les pinis long
harim kaunsil, kaunsil, kaunsil. Em wanem samting?
I nogat arapela samting long toktok long en? Ol taim
yupela ol masta i laik kam na giamanim mipela long
kirapim kaunsil. Long wanem yupela i no save laik
long toktok wantaim mipela liklik long giraun bipo
yupela kam stilim long mipela long akis, tabak, na ol
hap aen hia? (He shows them a knife)
Samting ol tumbuna bilong mipela i nogat save long
en, na yupela kam giamanim ol long en.
Third Man (a villager) –
Alright McCarthy, you can speak to us about anything
you want. But we are fed up with hearing kaunsil,
kaunsil, kaunsil. What is it? Isn’t there anything else
to talk about? You white people (ol masta, ‘masters’)
always come and trick (giamanim) us into setting up
a kaunsil.
That’s because you didn’t use to talk about the land
you stole from us in exchange for axes, tobacco, and
other iron things (like this knife) here?
Things that our ancestors didn’t know about, you came
and tricked (giamanim) everyone with them.
As of this moment, the second man joins in attacking McCarthy with more
accusations of cheating and tricking (giamanim), while Kepas encapsulates the
denitive conclusion for McCarthy (13), clearly asserting that his people have
no need of the institution which McCarthy attempts to impose on them (or more
precisely, to lure them into), as their local kivung is fully sucient as far as their
current needs are concerned.
(12) Scene Two, p.19: Second Man
Em pasin bilong ol masta tasol hia ol laik kam gia-
manim yumi ol taim
Second Man –
This is the way of the white people, they always
come and trick us /cheat us
(13) Scene Two, p.19: Kepas
Orait, inap Makati harim pinis ol toktok long pipal
bilong mi. Mipela i no laikim kaunsil long wanem
mipela i gat kivung pinis. Mipela ting dispela sam-
ting orait long mipela nau.
Kepas –
Alright, that’s enough, McCarthy has listened to my
people. We don’t want a kaunsil because we have a
kivung. We think this is something which is alright
for us now.
6. Concluding remarks
It has been argued that the communicative events evoked in the studied fragment
of Namaliu’s play can be construed as evidence in favour of Franklin’s (2007, 37)
statement linking the emergence of the Tok Pisin (and more broadly, Melanesian)
concept of wok to colonial administrative settings. Consequently, in order to form
a more accurate picture of cultural and contextual signicance of this word within
Namaliu’s work, one should observe that it is prominently juxtaposed with a
Wo k (‘work’) as a Melanesian Cultural Keyword… 89
novel English-derived administrative term kaunsil – which unlike the supposedly
equivalent Tolai word kivung – remains unclear and contested to the Melanesian
inhabitants of the village. Moreover, a prominent linguistic factor which seems to
contribute to the notional complexity of the cross-cultural encounter reconstructed
in the play appears to be the opaque nature of the concept of kaunsil (derived from
English) vis-à-vis that of kivung (derived from Tolai), attributable to a common Tok
Pisin phenomenon of imperfect synonym pairs, characteristic of communication
across lectal boundaries (see Mühlhäusler 1985). Consequently, a conspicuous
feature of the communicative encounter reconstructed in Namaliu’s work appears
to be an aura of reluctance surrounding the attempted introduction of a new
administrative body, referred to as kaunsil in Tok Pisin. Instead, the Tok Pisin
and Tolai-speaking villagers of Raluana prefer to stick to their familiar practice of
kivung, while at the same time it is a clearly perceived lack of equivalence of the
social practice of kaunsil vs. that of kivung that is at stake, as the power balance
shifts within the village debate represented in the studied fragment of the play.
On the level of semantic meaning, however, Franklin’s (2007, 37) research
indicated that the lexical item wok surfaced in Tok Pisin as a superordinate term
which imposed new temporal and economic constraints on how a continuum of
people’s activity could be conceptualised and managed. A possible symptom of
introducing such a novel notional and cultural perspective might understandably
culminate in contradictory evaluations of that activity. For example, within the
context of the studied fragment of Namaliu’s play, wok is described as a kind of
activity which results in tangible material benets (as in example (1) – Makati’s
opening speech), but at the same time the practice of wok can be viewed as yielding
to the controlling power of dominant others who can terminate one’s activity (wok)
apparently on a whim. Such potentially confusing and disruptive understanding of
human activity anchored in the two English-derived concepts of wok and kaunsil
is highlighted in examples (10) and (11) (Scene Two), where Makati (McCarthy)
upbraids a local villager (Tuvi, a schoolteacher), threatening ‘to throw him out of
his work’ (mi rausim yu long wok bilong yu), only to be confronted by another
villager (Third Man) who retorts with a barrage of accusations ostensibly directed
at White people (ol masta) in general, who apparently come only with an intention
of confusing/tricking (giamanim) and robbing (stilim) the local people of their land,
oering iron tools and tobacco in return.
A well-known Papua New Guinean politician and philosopher Bernard Narokobi
(1983, 9) commented on the nature of Melanesian society as follows: “Giving and
taking is an integral part of Melanesian society. Co-operation and mutual support,
especially in times of need and crisis are a part of our living experience. Confron-
tation and competition are kept to a minimum”. While a certain idealism seems to
run through Narokobi’s writings (cf. Franklin 2007, 27), the cultural concept of wok
has clearly become a part of common Melanesian conceptual currency embedded in
local networks of kinship and relatedness recounted in Namaliu’s play.
Paweł Kornacki90
Notes
1 Tok Pisin (also known as Neomelanesian, New Guinea Pidgin English,
Melanesian Pidgin) and English are the national languages of the Independent
State of Papua New Guinea, a multi-ethnic and multilingual Pacic state
with the population of approximately 7 million people speaking at least 836
individual languages, spread over 600 islands (see Lewis ed. 2013). This
extremely complex sociolinguistic situation is further complicated by the fact
that several provinces of the country do not rely on Tok Pisin as a language
of wider communication and use Hiri Motu (an Austronesian-based contact
language) or English instead. Further information about the names given to
Tok Pisin (both exonyms and endonyms) can be found in Verhaar (1995,
1–4). The designation Melanesian Pidgin is also used by some linguists “as
the cover term for the three languages/dialects known as Tok Pisin in Papua
New Guinea, Pijin in Solomon Islands, and Bislama in Vanuatu, spoken in all
by perhaps three million people” (Lynch 1998, 220).
2 This helpful idea was claried by Iteanu (2015, 138) in the context of
Melanesian cultures and cross-cultural contact with the following words:
“By “recycling of values,” I refer to the usage made by a society of ideas,
qualities, and objects formerly associated with some secondary value, in order
to understand and appropriate a new value that would otherwise be dicult
to grasp because of its very novelty”.
3
While the Tolai (Austronesian) word kivung used in the Tok Pisin of the
Eastern part of Papua New Guinea refers to ‘village assembly’, the same word
also refers to some local varieties of cargo cults practiced in the western parts
of PNG (see Jebens 2004, 157–159 for an anthropological account). A staunch
defence of their local kivung by the villagers of Raluana depicted in Namaliu’s
play might nevertheless be a reex of their perception that the overwhelming
abundance of Western material goods is amenable to a supernatural account
only, and not really to the institution of kaunsil, or practice of wok. For an
in-depth study of historical and linguistic contacts between Tolai and Tok
Pisin, see Mosel (1983).
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