1Ezha is an Ethio-Semitic language spoken in the Ezha administrative district (woreda) of the Gurage Zone by ca. 85,000 people (p. 2; no exact data on the actual number of speakers are available), the majority of whom are Orthodox Christians. As other Ethio-Semitic languages of the Gurage Zone (which are often referred to as Gurage languages), Ezha is an understudied language, and although various aspects of Ezha grammar have been addressed by linguists, the book under review is its first comprehensive grammatical description.
2The data for the grammar have been collected during three field trips (each of them lasted from one month to one month and a half). The data were elicited mainly from three informants, with occasional additional consultations with other native speakers.
3The book consists of six chapters: 1) a short introduction which provides information on the sociolinguistics of Ezha, on its place in the classification of Ethio-Semitic languages, on the previous works dealing with Ezha grammar, on the methodology and source of the data for the present work; 2) a chapter on phonetics and phonology; 3) “minor word classes” (pronouns, numerals, non-numeral quantifiers); 4) “major word classes” (nouns, adjectives, verbs, adverbs); 5) phrasal syntax; 6) clausal syntax. The book also contains four appendices: 1) tables of verbal conjugation; 2) greetings; 3) two short texts in Ezha, provided with linguistic glossing and a translation; 4) a short Ezha-English word list. The appendices are followed by the bibliography.
4The book is well-structured and contains all the necessary components of a grammatical description. It consistently employs IPA transcription, which follows the general tendency: the simplified linguistic transcription used in earlier works on Ethio-Semitic languages, including Gurage languages (such as Hetzron 1977), is gradually abandoned in modern descriptive works in favour of IPA transcription (e.g. Degif 2000; Völlmin 2017; etc.). Thus, the book is well adjusted to the needs of the language typologists unacquainted with the conventions of Ethio-Semitic studies. The consistent glossing (mostly in accordance with the Leipzig Glossing Rules) of phrasal examples and even complex verbal forms works to the same effect.
5The phonological system of Ezha is described in detail, with minimal pairs adduced for many phonological oppositions. It is likewise convincingly shown that Ezha possesses geminated consonants (likewise, with plenty of minimal pairs for the opposition between geminated and non-geminated consonants), and that gemination can occur even in a word-final position (xar ‘know!’ vs. xarr ‘silk’, anʒ ‘heifer’ vs. anɨʒʒ ‘let me not see!’, see p. 29). Due attention is paid to the syllable structure of Ezha, to the constraints on consonantal clusters and to the means of breaking up non-permissible clusters.
6As expected, the book offers valuable material which has so far been inaccessible to the general reader. This includes not only carefully recorded verbal paradigms (Appendix 1, Tables 50, 51, 52, 53, etc.), but also some observations on morphology and syntax. Thus, the author demonstrates that the direct object marker jə‑ is obligatory with human definite nouns and with pronouns, whereas non-human definite objects remain unmarked (p. 208‑209). This is more precise in comparison to Hetzron’s statement that the marker is used “optionally for the definite accusative” (Hetzron 1977: 54).
7The observation on the distribution between two kinds of converb — the t-converb and the m-converb — is likewise important, however casually it is given. On p. 163 it is stated that “[t]he t-converb [is] used most frequently (but not always) before negative main verbs.”
8A few critical remarks offered below do not diminish the value of the monograph, but may stimulate the author to further consideration of the theoretical issues raised in his investigation.
9P. 48 (Vowel insertion): Some of the examples offered here are unclear. What are the arguments for positing /mdad/ as the underlying form for [mɨdad] ‘clay plate’, and /fjjək’/ as the underlying form for [fɨjjək’] ‘goat’? Judging from the information given on p. 48, one is inclined to think that there is no vowel insertion in these forms at all (that is, that the underlying forms are also bisyllabic).
- 1 As the author himself observes, there is no formal difference between instrumental and locative ma (...)
10P. 54‑55 (Case system of personal pronouns), 98‑104 (Case system of nouns): The author follows Hetzron (1977: 54‑55) and refers to adpositions in Ezha as the exponents of case. Thus, the author distinguishes between accusative, dative, and genitive cases. However, in reality, Ezha employs a common marker jə‑ which expresses all these grammatical meanings. A better solution would be to refer to jə‑ as a marker of dependency (or of obliqueness, or similar). Furthermore, the author posits the following cases for Ezha: vocative (marked by the suffix ‑o), instrumental (marked by the prefixed element bə‑), source/ablative (marked by the prefixed element tə‑), goal/allative (marked by the suffixed element ‑nɨjə), locative (marked by the prefixed morpheme bə‑),1 comitative (marked by the circumposition tə...gi). However, at the end of the section (p. 109), the reader learns that, in fact, these labels refer to semantic cases and that the elements under scrutiny are adpositions (rather than prefixes/suffixes/circumfixes), and consequently that Ezha does not possess any morphological case system at all (with the only possible exception of the vocative, on which see p. 105).
11P. 82‑83 (Agent nouns): The forms given as agent nouns are obviously derived from inflected verbal forms of the imperfective, to which the adjectival suffix ‑jə is attached (on this analysis, see p. 111‑112). Therefore, special arguments must be offered for treating them as nouns rather than verbal forms. Of special interest is their inflection for number and gender: do they take verbal endings, or do they follow the same strategy as canonical nouns (that is, they are unmarked for gender and number, the latter being both expressed only through agreement with other constituents of the sentence)? It is only in the latter case that their inclusion into the nominal class is justified. The same refers to the instrumental nouns treated on p. 83‑84.
12P. 120‑121 (Jussive): In the discussion of the jussive base, it is mentioned that the vowel can be inserted either between C1 and C2, or between C2 and C3: ‑nk’ɨm ‘pick up’, but ‑dɨrg ‘hit’. No rules for the insertion of ɨ are given. However, the examples given on p. 121 suggest that Ezha, like the neighbouring Chaha, has a prohibition on word-final sonority-raising clusters (for Chaha, see Rose 2000: 399, 404‑408). In this case, the epenthetic ɨ is inserted between C1 and C2 if the sequence C2C3 is of falling sonority, but if otherwise, the epenthesis occurs between C2 and C3. The applicability of this rule to Ezha jussive forms is of course to be verified against a large number of verbs.
13P. 129 (Causative derivation): Among the examples of transitive verbs from which causatives can be derived with the prefix a‑, the verb fətt’ər‑ ‘boil’ looks suspicious. Whereas the compatibility with the causative prefix a‑ is expected for the verbs ‘eat’, ‘taste’, ‘wear’ (compare a similar situation in Amharic, see Mengistu 2002: 37‑38), the verb with the meaning ‘boil (tr.)’ does not fit this picture: it denotes a volitional and controlled action, does not belong to the class of “ingestive verbs” (see Mengistu 2002: 38) and thus, is expected to be incompatible with the prefix a‑. It is hard to believe that the behaviour of ‘boil (tr.)’ in Ezha differs from that of the verbs with the same semantics elsewhere in Ethio-Semitic. Indeed, according to Leslau (1979: 251), the verb fətt’ər‑ in Ezha means ‘be ready (food)’ (thus, equivalent to ‘boil [intr.], be boiled’) and, consequently, is intransitive. The cause of the confusion is most likely the ambiguity of the English gloss ‘boil’.
14P. 130 (Passive/reflexive stem): The author rejects the previous analysis by Fekede Menuta, who claimed that verbs like k’ətt’ər‑ ‘kill’ and sənnək’‑ ‘steal’ do not derive passive stems with the prefix tə‑ (Fekede 2005: 180). In the present grammatical description, it is stated that “any transitive verbal base can attach the passive morpheme to derive [the] personal passive stem” (p. 130). However, it remains unclear whether the field research by the present author has indeed shown results different from those of Fekede Menuta. If so, examples of phrases with the verbs tə-k’ətt’ər‑ ‘be killed’ and tə‑sənnək’‑ ‘be stolen’ would help to demonstrate that we are faced with actively employed verbs.
15P. 151 (Main Verb Marker, or declarative clause marker): It is argued that the element ‑m cannot be a past marker because it is absent in subordinate clauses referring to past events. This is illustrated by Example (91), where the subordinate verb lacks the marker ‑m. However, this argument is hardly acceptable since the subordinate temporal clauses may lack markers of tense (see the discussion in Meyer 2016: 202, with examples from another Outer South Ethio-Semitic language, Muher). Thus, the question of how to analyse the marker ‑m remains open. In addition, Example (91) is ill-fitting for the illustration of the author’s argument: the subordinate verb here cannot attach the marker ‑m because — as it is stated on p. 220 — it occurs only with the perfective paradigm (the verb is erroneously glossed for perfective, the correct glossing is /‑j‑tʃən/ 3ms‑come.ipfv).
16Some inconsistencies can be observed. The square brackets [] are said to introduce the phonetic transcription (see the list of symbols and abbreviations, p. xix). In reality, they are used in different ways. Sometimes, they are indeed used for the phonetic transcription (whereas slashes // introduce the phonemic transcription): p. 51, Example (26b) /wəzgəb/ [wəzgəβ]. In some cases, they introduce the phonemic transcription, and are opposed to //, used to introduce the morphemic transcription, see, e.g., p. 46, Example (19a): /ʃab‑i/ [ʃeb] (see further Examples (19b), (20a); p. 47, Examples (20b), (20c), (20d), etc.). In some sections, they are used for the morphemic representation of lexemes (as on p. 221: ambəra [an‑bəra‑ə] neg‑eat.pfv‑3ms ‘did not eat’, and elsewhere). In some sections, the morphemic representation is not marked in any way (as in Chapter 3, Examples (1), (2), etc.). In some examples, the phonetic transcription is given without square brackets (as on p. 158, Example [106a]: aŋk’ət’ərə instead of [aŋk’ət’ərə]).
17It is stated (p. 129‑130, 134) that the attachment of the indirect causative morpheme at‑ results in the full assimilation of t to the first root consonant. The actually given forms do not always support this. See, for instance, [atgannəf‑] ‘make whip one another’ (p. 134) or [atmɨnannək’‑] ‘cause to bless each other repeatedly’ (p. 135). Are these mere errors in the transcription?
18Finally, it is worth observing that not all Ezha words occurring in the book are included in the word list given on p. 271‑277 (for instance, t’uka ‘pillar’, tʃɨtta ‘rabbit’, gʷətʃə ‘appointment’, found on p. 268‑269, are missing from the word list).
19Generally speaking, the volume is well edited and proofread. Misspellings and typos are rare. Some examples are: p. 55: “əttəmʷtʃənnəttʃɨm” instead of “əttəmʷ tʃənnəttʃɨm”; p. 56: “fromyou” instead of “from you”; p. 60: “germination” instead of “gemination”; p. 115: “boratʃənnəβom” instead of “bora tʃənnəβom”; p. 133: “at-zɨraənnəf‑” instead of “at‑zɨrannəf‑”; p. 226: “məsafwe” instead of “məs’afwe”.
20The Descriptive grammar of Ezha enhances our knowledge on Ezha considerably and is a solid contribution to Gurage studies and Ethio-Semitic studies in general. Yet, it is inevitable that it leaves many questions on the Ezha language unanswered and awaiting a deeper inquiry. It can only be hoped that the work on the description of this and other understudied languages of Ethiopia is continued.