Armenians Learning Greek in Ancient Egypt.

Danny Bate featured here just a couple of weeks ago, but he’s got another post I can’t resist sharing: The Armenian Who Learned Greek in Ancient Egypt. This is another “who knew?” moment for me:

Written in Armenian letters for an unknown individual navigating the Greek-speaking society of Roman Egypt, this document is an absolute goldmine of historical and linguistic information. It’s both a testament to a multicultural Mediterranean world, and a valuable early witness to the Armenian language and its speakers. This is in spite of the fact that it doesn’t contain a single word of Armenian. […]

This document, cautiously dated to around the 5th–7th century AD, is a very early example of the Armenian alphabet, and the only one written with papyrus for its material. Yet it doesn’t come from anywhere near lands ever known as ‘Armenia’, nor does it write down Armenian speech. Its provenance is unclear. The French scholar Auguste Carrière bought the parpyrus from a dealer at the end of the 19th century. Scholars worked off a photograph of just one side until the original was rediscovered in 1993 by historian Dickran Kouymjian at the French Bibliothèque Nationale (designation: BnF Arm 332). Before Carrière, the trail goes cold, but the arid, papyrus-preserving climate of Egypt is the likeliest resting place. As for its language, the document is nothing but words of Greek.

Line after line, the document faithfully renders nouns, adjectives, verbs, phrases and whole sentences of Greek in Armenian letters. […] Now, I see two seams of information to be excavated from the papyrus: one about historical language (quelle surprise), but another about historical society. Let’s dig into the first.

The thing is, the papyrus is an excellent acoustic witness to how Greek sounded back then. The language, caught between its Koine and Medieval forms, is plentifully attested in historical sources from Late Antiquity, but such sources are necessarily silent. We know that Greek speech has undergone many changes down the millennia, but pinpointing when (and where) these changes occurred tends to be imprecise – we say things like ‘Oh, that consonant shifted during the Koine period’, which narrows things down to about nine hundred years. […]

Alternative scripts are therefore of great importance for the historical linguist. Rendering speech in new letters is not bound to any archaic spelling and established standard, but instead is accurate to sound. This Armenian spelling of Late Antique Greek lifts the veil on the spoken language, giving us a precious glimpse of what changes had (or hadn’t) occurred. […]

The active choice of Armenian letters offers us whispers of the accent behind the words. For example, the alphabet has Բ, which stood and still stands for the voiced stop sound /b/. Greek words spelled with B are here mostly Armenian-ised with Բ, rather than another letter that would indicate a thorough shift towards the voiced fricative /v/, such as the W-letter Ւ. There are a couple of spellings that hint at the shift’s onset, though. For instance, “ՍԱՒԱՆ” (‘sawan’) spells σάβανον ‘linen cloth’.

The consonant behind the Greek letter Χ has also changed over the centuries, from an aspirated /kʰ/ to a fricative /x/, as in Scottish loch. The Armenian alphabet could provide suitable letters for both the older and the younger sounds (namely, Ք and Խ). We observe that Χ-words in usual Greek writing are spelled in the papyrus with Ք, indicating the older sound.

Relatedly, Armenian has a letter for the breathy /h/ sound in hat: Հ. The author of the papyrus often uses it at the start of Greek words that have since dropped their Hs. It’s there in “ՀԷՄԱ”. This is the Ancient Greek word for ‘blood’, αἷμα, the origin of English haemo-. It’s pronounced like a breathless ‘ema’ in Modern Greek, but was ‘hema’ still for our author. That said, the Հ is absent from other possible places. The variability gives the impression that H-dropping in Egyptian Greek was common, but not yet ‘good’ Greek.

These features together give the Egyptian accent of Greek behind the papyrus a fairly conservative, quasi-classical feel. Many of the sound changes that are standard and normal in Greek today don’t seem to have been fully present in Late Antique Egypt.

There’s considerably more at the link, including evidence for incipient iotacism and -ίον diminutives, and it ends by trying to answer the questions “What was the purpose of the papyrus? And who was it for?” I hope they turn up more such documents with foreign evidence for the state of ancient languages.

Comments

  1. Trond Engen says

    Thanks! Very interesting. I even left a comment there.

  2. Stephen Rowland says

    “who knew?”

    Er, you did. A Greek Papyrus in Armenian Script.

  3. David Eddyshaw says

    The stops remind me of the Greek transcriptions of Hebrew in Origen’s Hexapla, which have been thought problematic because they imply a Greek pronunciation of the stops which was Classical rather than Mediaeval; also of the way Greek loans behave in Coptic, and how the Greek script is used in writing the language (especially Bohairic.)

    Both cases have sometimes been handwaved away by the implausible* assumption that a similar archaizing Greek pronunciation had somehow survived as a scholarly thing in the relevant groups, but this looks like yet more evidence that the relevant changes have either been dated too early in general, or spread rather slowly over the Hellenistic world.

    * Implausible because the relevant changes were subphonemic. Also, Greek loanwords in Coptic are often mangled enough to suggest that No Scholars Were Harmed in the process of their adoption.

    It reminds me a bit of Kenneth Jackson’s unlikely scenario that he sets up to explain why Latin loans in Brythonic (sometimes) reflect features of Latin lost in the common ancestor of the Romance languages (again, he posits a scholarly preservation of an archaic pronunciation tradition.)

    [EDIT: Huh. I, too, had forgotten that this came up before. And I duly said all this before, too … well, at least I’m consistent.]

  4. the relevant changes have either been dated too early in general

    Laconian had σ for θ already in the 4th century BC. Debrunner/Scherer summarize in their Geschichte der griechischen Sprache II. Grundfragen und Grundzüge des nachklassischen Griechisch (1969):

    Die […] besprochenen Lautwandlungen treten alle zuerst in nichtattischen Dialekten auf (mehrere im Boiotischen) und gehören alle nicht dem vorhellenistischen Attisch an. Das steht im Widerspruch mit der sonstigen entscheidenden Bedeutung des Attischen für die Bildung der Koine. […] Die Erklärung dafür liegt darin: in einer Gemeinsprache läßt sich die Einheitlichkeit am Schwersten im Lautlichen erreichen […]. So bestanden auch […] erhebliche landschaftliche (zum Teil wohl auch sozial bedingte) Unterschiede in der Aussprache.

    In other words: Koine pronunciation was never geographically and socially uniform.

  5. David Marjanović says

    Laconian had σ for θ already in the 4th century BC.

    I don’t see a reason to interpret this σ as an attempt to spell [θ], though. It could just as easily be a completely separate [tʰ] > [ts̻] > [s̻] thing (with σ used to spell both the new [s̻] and the inherited [s̠], if they didn’t merge altogether).

    (Proof that the Danes are Danaoi…)

  6. Er, you did. A Greek Papyrus in Armenian Script.

    Sigh. When will I learn to automatically do a site search? (In my defense, that’s gotten considerably harder since Google search became worthless.)

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