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REPORTING PROBLEMS AND OFFERING ASSISTANCE IN JAPANESE BUSINESS TRANSACTIONAL TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS; TOWARD AN UNDERSTANDING OF A SPOKEN GENRE

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the

Graduate School of The Ohio State University

Lindsay Amthor Yotsukura, Ed.M, B.A. *****

The Ohio State University 1997

Dissertation Committee: Approved by

Professor Charles J. Quinn, Jr., Advisor

Professor Mari Noda Advisor

Department of East Asian Professor Michael L. Geis Languîmes and Literatures UMI Number; 9801829

This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.

UMI 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, MI 48103 Copyright by

Lindsay Amthor Yotsukura

1997 ABSTRACT

This dissertation examines the reporting of problems and the offering of assistance

by service recipients and service providers in Japanese business telephone conversations.

The study is based on a data corpus of 100 hours of naturally occurring conversations of

staff members employed at three commercial and three educational establishments in the

Kanto and Kansai regions of Japan which were recorded over a period of several months in

1994 and 1995. Of this corpus, excerpts from 20 hours of recordings from one Tokyo

company and 30 hours from one Kobe company have been transcribed and analyzed.

At the heart of the investigation is a group of conversations exhibiting certain

commonalities of compositional structure, style, and thematic content. Using Bakhtin’s

definition of speech genres, it is argued that each of these texts represents an individual enactment of a particular genre, to be called Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (JBTCs). By considering genre in a manner similar to Bourdieu’s notion of habitus, or ‘lived habit,’ we can move away from the concrete, reified idea of ‘activity types,’ which unnecessarily consigns behavior to an unchangeable pattern that might be readily learned and applied without modification or practice cross-culturally, and instead adopt a more flexible approach that envisions genres as groups of behavioral and linguistic dispositions which both native and non-native speakers of a given language acquire through experience in particular settings on particular occasions. The purpose in doing so is twofold. First, for pedagogical purposes we seek to develop a model of how Japanese speakers make use of linguistic (viz., generic) resources in order to perform one particular activity in their daily work. The second goal is to provide a “thick description” of a small number of conversations as they occur in particular contexts, and which share a similar constellation of thematic, stylistic and compositional features.

Familiarity with the JBTC genre and with the more specific subgenres of problem reporting and offering assistance, coupled with specific knowledge about the types of problems that might occur in conjunction with particular transactions in a particular business, enabled certain service recipients to highlight the salient points related to a problem through the use of contextualization cues. This often made it possible for service providers to perceive the problem prior to its explicit mention by the service recipient. The converse of this was also found to be true; in cases in which service providers were most familiar with one kind of transaction, the expectations they had developed through experience sometimes prompted them to misunderstand (or unintentionally ignore) the salient contextualization cues which the service recipient took pains to provide.

When service providers sought to offer assistance toward the resolution of a problem, instances of either the consultative l-masyoo ka?J or the declarative l-masu no del forms were observed; in some cases, both occurred within the same encounter. The difference in distribution would seem to be most fundamentally related to the degree of knowledge the speaker had in regard to the problem being reported. Service providers adopted the i-masyoo ka?! pattern when seeking confirmation from the service recipient about the proposed service, either because there was insufficient information to judge what sort of behavior would be appropriate or because they wished to leave the final decision up to the service recipient. In contrast, service providers used the l-masu no del form to link the information marked with no in order to associate, refer, or even explain the present discourse situation with that n-marked information. The purpose in doing so was to provide a grounded reassurance of the speaker’s willingness and intention to perform the proposed service.

Ill To my father

and in memory of my mother

IV ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank the members of my Dissertation Committee, Professor

Charles J. Quinn, Jr., Professor Mari Noda, and Professor Michael L. Geis for their guidance and encouragement not only during the research and writing stages of the thesis itself, but also throughout my academic career at The Ohio State University. Professor

Quinn has been a constant source of inspiration and intellectual challenge as my primary academic advisor. Despite an extremely heavy workload and commitments to numerous advisees, he gave unsiintingly of his time, patience and advice. I am particularly grateful to him for pointing out to me the notion of genre as a potentially powerful tool for the analysis of texts and in the field of language pedagogy. Professor Noda has been a mentor to me both at Ohio State and during various summer language programs in the

United States and Japan. Her insightful observations about language use have served as inspiration for this work, and her masterful teaching skills in the classroom have motivated me to continue to strive harder in this field. I am also indebted to her for helping to arrange for my affiliation with Professor Keisuke Maruyama at Doshisha

Women’s University in Japan during the period of fieldwork from 1994 to 1995.

My coursework and extensive discussions with Professor Geis have helped me to develop an understanding for research in the areas of speech act theory and conversation analysis. In particular I wish to acknowledge his comments and criticisms on numerous drafts of a paper which I presented at the Graduate Research Forum at Ohio State and later at two academic conferences; these laid the foundation for the present investigation. I also wish to thank Professor Yoshiko Matsumoto, who first introduced me to the field of pragmatics at Ohio State and provided me with an opportunity as a research assistant to transcribe spoken Japanese data. Although my experience with her as a student was brief,

I continue to benefit from her teaching.

Other professors whose assistance, advice, and support I also gratefully acknowledge are Professors Galal Walker, William Tyler, Mineharu Nakayama and

Donald Brown of The Ohio State University, and Professors Suzuko Nishihara and

Hiroko Nakagawa of the Kyoto Japanese Language School in Japan.

I also wish to acknowledge the extensive financial support I have received from

The Ohio State University in the form of a University Fellowship, several Foreign

Language and Area Studies (FLAS) fellowships and a Presidential Fellowship. These have enabled me to focus almost exclusively on coursework and research while enrolled at this university.

Through the generous financial assistance of the Japan-United States Educational

Commission, I was able to spend 17 months in Japan collecting data and conducting related fieldwork. I would like to express my deepest thanks to Professor Keisuke

Maruyama for his encouragement and thought-provoking discussions, as well as the kindness which he and his family extended to me and my husband throughout our stay in

Japan. Without his assistance in the arrangements for data collection at numerous sites in

Kansai and Kanto, this study would never have come to fruition. Professor Yoshikazu

Kawaguchi of Waseda University, whose boundless energy and dedication to the craft of teaching is both awe-inspiring and infectious, was also extremely generous of his time and advice. His help in obtaining permission for recording at one additional data collection site is greatly appreciated. Special thanks also go to Ms. Mizuho Iwata, who

VI served as my liaison at the JUSEC Fulbright office in Tokyo throughout the period of my

grant.

Although they must necessarily remain anonymous, I wish to acknowledge those

who agreed to participate as subjects in this study. Thanks to their willing accommodation

in having their telephone conversations recorded over a period of several months, I was

able to obtain a wealth of data that not only serves as the backbone of this work, but will

prove to be a wellspring for future research as well.

Over the many years I have spent as a graduate student, numerous friends and

classmates have shared their friendship and advice. In particular, I wish to thank Yuko

Okutsu, Meg Whitlock, Margaret Wright, Jay Moody, Jennifer Venditti, and Jill

Robbins.

I would also like to acknowledge the patience and support which my new

colleagues at the University of Maryland, College Park have extended to me as I have

tried to complete the dissertation while teaching full-time. I am especially grateful to Bob

Ramsey, whose demonstrated excellence in scholarship and teaching I deeply admire, and

who has provided keen insights about language and linguistics on numerous occasions.

Tomoko Sano has generously shared her pedagogical expertise, refreshing sense of

humor and perspective on life throughout the past year, and Scott McGinnis, my senpai

at Ohio State and now at Maryland, has been a constant source of encouragement and enthusiasm.

The love and concern I have felt from all of the members of my family have

helped me to continue with my work despite the occasional seemingly insurmountable obstacles. My brother Geoff and his wife Lori have provided warmth and humor at opportune moments. My husband Vince has calmly and selflessly supported and comforted me in the many emotional ups and downs of the research process, and has

vu contributed countless suggestions and criticisms regarding this work, for which I am very grateful. Together we have faced the mental and emotional strain of the deaths of three of our four parents in the span of just six months; without his strength and reassurance I might have abandoned this project long ago.

Words cannot express my gratitude for the unwavering and loving support my father has provided in all my endeavors. His encouragement has led me to constantly challenge myself and to reach for goals I might otherwise have considered unattainable.

Finally, I wish to thank my mother, whose personal interest in linguistics and suggestion to me at an early age that I consider the study of foreign languages set me on the road to where I am today.

vui VTTA

September 11, 1962...... Bom in Boston, Massachusetts

1984 ...... B.A. History, with concentration in Asian Studies Williams College, Williamstown, Massachusetts

1984-1986 ...... Mombusho English Fellow, Akita Prefecture, Japan

1987 ...... Ed.M. Human Development Harvard University Graduate School of Education Cambridge, Massachusetts

1987-1989 ...... Japanese Instructor, Kalamazoo College, Kalamazoo, Michigan

1991...... M.A. Japanese linguistics The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1991...... Principal Japanese Instructor, East Asian Summer Language Institute, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana

1994...... Lecturer, The Ohio State University Study Abroad Program, Shoin Women’s University, Kobe, Japan

1994-1995...... Visiting Researcher, Doshisha Women’s College, Kyoto, Japan

1989-1996...... Graduate Research Associate and Fellow, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1996-present...... Lecturer, University of Maryland, College Park, Maryland

IX PUBLICATIONS

Yotsukura, L.A. 1996. Nan ni demo tyoosen sum koto. Kotoba, kokoro, 29, 42-45.

FIELDS OF STUDY

Major field: East Asian Languages and Literatures

Areas of specialization: Japanese linguistics and Japanese language pedagogy TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

Dedication ...... iv

Acknowledgments ...... v

Vita...... ix

List of Figures ...... xvi

Conventions for Transcriptions, Glosses, and Translations ...... xvii

List of Abbreviations Used in Examples and Data ...... xix

List of Transcription Symbols ...... xxi

Chapters:

1. Introduction: Motivation and aims ...... 1

1.1 Motivation for the present study ...... 1 1.1.1 The importance of role relationships ...... 2 1.1.2 The importance of genre in a performance-oriented approach to language instruction ...... 6 1.2 Initial aims of the investigation ...... 9 1.3 Scope and goals of the present study ...... 10 1.3.1 Identifying and describing a genre: Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (JBTCs) ...... 10 1.3.2 Bakhtin and the notion of speech genres ...... 17 1.3.3 Working definition of offers for this study ...... 21 1.3.4 Focal exchange: Reporting problems and offering assistance 22 1.3.5 Forms which service providers use in offering assistance ...... 23 1.3.5.1 Seeking confirmation: the consultative /-{jnas)(y)oo ka?L...23 1.3.5.2 Conveying a grounded assurance (GA) of one’s intentions: l-masu n(o) de! ...... 26 1.3.5.3 Uses of MO in different syntagmatic environments ...... 27 1.3.5.4 no de as the gerund of the Extended Predicate (EP) ...... 31 1.3.6 Example from the data incorporating both the /-{mas)(y)oo ka?i and l-masu no del patterns ...... 33 1.3.7 Goals of the present study ...... 36 1.4 Summary of remaining chapters ...... 39

XI 2. Review of perspectives on data elicitation and analysis ...... 41

2.1 Introduction ...... 41 2.2 Recent methods for data elicitation ...... 43 2.3 Goals versus methodology ...... 46 2.4 A review of speech act theory...... 49 2.4.1 Austin ...... 50 2.4.2 Searle...... 54 2.4.3 Requests, promises, and offers ...... 58 2.4.3.1 Requests...... 59 2.4.3.2 Promises ...... 59 2.4.3.3 Offers...... 65 2.4.3.4 Promises vs. offers: A difference in situational context and degree of commitment ...... 69 2.4.4 Problems with speech act theoretic accounts...... 73 2.4.5 Discussion and conclusions ...... 79 2.5 Studies of speech acts in English, Japanese, and other languages...... 81 2.6 Conversation analysis ...... 81 2.6.1 Adjacency pairs ...... 83 2.6.2 Preference organization ...... 87 2.6.3 Discussion and conclusions ...... 89 2.6.4 CA studies in Japanese ...... 93 2.7 Geis’s Dynamic Speech Act Theory (1995)...... 94 2.7.1 Geis’s revision of Searlian speech act conditions ...... 94 2.7.2 Using the “details of talk” to support the theory ...... 96 2.7.3 An example of the application of DSAT to actual conversation ...... 97 2.7.4 Discussion ...... 99 2.7.5 Conclusions ...... 104 2.8 Genres, activity types, and contextualization cues ...... 106 2.9 Previous studies of offers in Japanese and English ...... 108 2.9.1 Studies of English offers ...... 108 2.9.1.1 Rabinowitz(1993) ...... 108 2.9.1.2 Davidson (1984) ...... 114 2.9.2 Studies of Japanese offers ...... 118 2.9.2.1 Fukushima and Iwata (1987) ...... 118 2.9.2.2 Matoba (1989a, 1989b) ...... 122 2.10 Conclusions ...... 126

3. Methodology: Data collection and the notion of genre ...... 134

3.1 Introduction ...... 134 3.2 Rationale for an ethnomethodological approach ...... 135 3.2.1 Tape recorded versus hypothetical or recalled data ...... 137 3.2.2 The importance of telephone conversations ...... 137 3.3 Data collection: Audio and video tape recordings...... 139 3.3.1 Audio tape recordings ...... 139 3.3.1.1 Methodology and locations...... 139 3.3.1.2 Subjects...... 140 3.3.2 Video tape recordings ...... 140

XII 3.4 The genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations 140 3 .4 .1 Defining genre...... 141 3.4.2 Other definitions of genre...... 143 3.4.3 Genre, register, and style...... 149 3.4.4 Using the notion of genre as an heuristic for language pedagogy.... 159 3.4.5 Yamada (1992): Applying genre to the second language classroom.. 161 3.5 Conclusions ...... 162

4. Cultural and sociolinguistic background...... 165

4.1 Introduction ...... 165 4.2 Issues to consider in an analysis of contextual factors...... 167 4.3 Metalanguage regarding communication in Japanese...... 175 4.3.1 Utilsoto ...... 175 4.3.2 AT/and 5055/...... 177 4.3.3 Ormiyari and kikubari ...... 179 4.3.4 Ma ...... 187 4.3.5 communication...... 188 4.3.6 Ellipsis and uti/soto deixis ...... 190 4.3.7 Establishing common ground (jnemawasi) through the extended predicate (EP) construction...... 195 4.3.7.1 Nemawasi...... 195 4.3.7.2 The Extended Predicate (EP) construction ...... 196 4.4 Japan as a high context culture...... 198 4.5 High context culture as it applies to Japanese business transactional telephone calls: a preview...... 199 4.6 The use of no de in offers of assistance...... 200 4.7 Conclusions ...... 206

5. Japanese business transactional telephone conversations ...... 208

5.1 Introduction ...... 208 5.2 Japanese business transactional telephone calls in the data corpora ...... 209 5.3 Business transactional telephone calls vs. serviceencounters ...... 210 5.4 Overall structure and identffying register features ...... 212 5.4.1 Opening ...... 217 5.4.1.1 Step 1 : Self-identification by both parties ...... 217 5.4.1.1.1 Self-identification by the call recipient ...... 217 5.4.1.1.2 Greetings ...... 220 5.4.1.1.3 Request for confirmation of self-identification 222 5.4.1.1.4 Self-identification by the caller ...... 223 5.4.1.2 Step 2: Salutations ...... 224 5.4.1.2.1 Salutations acknowledging a need for service and confirming the ongoing business relationship between two organizations ...... 224 5.4.1.2.2 Salutations for in-house calls ...... 230

Xlll 5.4.1.3 Step 3; Request by the caller to speak to another person (optional) ...... 231 5.4.1.4 Sample opening exchange ...... 233 5.4.1.5 Indicating that someone is not available ...... 235 5.4 .1.6 Offers by the caller to call back...... 237 5.4.1.7 Offers by the call recipient to (have someone) call back 240 5.4.2 Transition to the discussion of business (jnaeoki) ...... 242 5.4.3 Conversational exchange related to business matters ...... 250 5.4.4 Discussion of other issues or transactions ...... 250 5.4.5 Pre-closing ...... 252 5.4.6 Closing ...... 253 5.5 Conclusions ...... 253

6. Problem reporting and resolution in Japanese business telephone conversations .. 255

6.1 Introduction ...... 255 6.2 Reporting that a package did not arrive (without actually saying so) ...... 255 6.2.1 Background information ...... 255 6.2.2 Description of the interaction ...... 257 6.3 Reporting an incomplete delivery ...... 269 6.3.1 Background information ...... 269 6.3.2 Description of the interaction ...... 269 6.4 Conclusions ...... 281

7. Pedagogical implications ...... 285

7.1 Introduction ...... 285 7.2 Evaluating appropriate models for the classroom ...... 287 7.2.1 Textbook conversation 1: Reporting a problem...... 288 7.2.2 Textbook conversation 2: Offering assistance using l-masyoo ka?/ . 292 7.2.3 Additional resources ...... 297 7.3 Using models of Japanese business telephone conversations in the classroom ...... 305 7.3.1 Using the opening section of JBTCs to illustrate uti/sotodeixis 307 7.3.2 Illustrating the extended predicate (EP) construction ...... 315 7.3.3 Questions to consider in identifying JBTCs ...... 319 7.4 Conclusions ...... 319

8. Conclusions and suggestions for future research ...... 323

8.1 Conclusions ...... 323 8.1.1 Strategies for reporting problems ...... 323 8.1.2 The function and distribution of linguistic forms used to offer assistance ...... 329 8.1.3 Influences of role relationships, genre, and cultural norms on strategies for reporting problems and offering assistance ...... 331 8.1.4 Using the data as a potential resource in the classroom...... 334

XIV 8.2 Areas for future research ...... 335 8.2.1 Contrastive studies ...... 336 8.2.2 Discussion ...... 341

Appendix A; Subjects in Data Corpus I (Kansai) ...... 344

Appendix B: Subjects in Data Corpus 2 (Kanto) ...... 345

Appendix C: Sample Conversation 1 (Kansai) ...... 346

Appendix D: Sample Conversation 2 (Kansai) ...... 349

Appendix E: Sample Conversation 3 (Kanto) ...... 356

Appendix F: Sample Conversation 4 (Kansai) ...... 366

Appendix G: Sample Conversation 5 (Kanto) ...... 375

Appendix H: Sample Conversation 6 (Kansai) ...... 384

Appendix I: Sample Conversation 7 (Kansai) ...... 392

Appendix J: Sample Conversation 8 (Kansai) ...... 397

Appendix K: Textbook Conversation 2 ...... 401

Bibliography ...... 404

XV LIST OF HGURES

Figure Page

Figure 5.1 Overall structure of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations ...... 215

Figure 5.2 Register features of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations ...... 216

Figure 1. 1 Identifying style: factors affecting usage ...... 320

Figure 7.2 Identifying generic, stylistic, and register features of Japanese telephone conversations ...... 321

XVI CONVENTIONS FOR TRANSCRIPTIONS, GLOSSES AND TRANSLATIONS

Excerpts from the data corpus presented in this thesis have been romanized according to the system adopted in Jorden with Noda (1987), with these exceptions: (a) accent is not marked; (b) no macron appears above syllabic n and nasalized g; (c) in cases in which a slight rise in pitch follows the question particle ka (as opposed to falling intonation), this is indicated with a question mark, rather than the usual check mark or

“rising hook”; and (d) a regular question mark has been substituted for the reversed question mark following the sentence particle ne when it is uttered with rising intonation.

Other Japanese words and phrases appearing within the English text, including those in quotations from other sources, have also been romanized in this fashion.

However, the Hepburn system has been adopted for the proper names of Japanese people and places in the English text, as well as for the presentation of Japanese reference materials cited in the bibliography, with one significant change due to typographical reasons: long vowels in reference titles are written out rather than being indicated indicated with a macron.

Each romanized example from the data corpus is accompanied by both a word-for- word, literal gloss as well as an English translation. In the latter, an attempt was made to remain as faithful as possible to the Japanese while still maintaining a natural English translation. Brackets in the English translations indicate material that would sound odd or be omitted in English, while parentheses indicate material that would sound odd or be omitted in Japanese but is necessary for a smooth English translation.

X V ll The abbreviations used for grammatical and stylistic information in the word-for- word-glosses were for the most part adapted from Noda (1990) and Bachnik and Quinn

(1994); these are summarized on pages xix-xx. Since the majority of the utterances presented in this study are in distal style, only those which are in direct style will be marked with the symbol (-*) to distinguish them from the distal examples. ‘

Other transcription notation I have used for the data which are presented in this study is adapted from that used in Tannen (1989), and Szatrowski (1993). This includes the use of":" to indicate lengthening of a vowel or consonant; "/hhh/” to mark an intake of breath, and “//” to show the point at which the following utterance by a different speaker overlaps with that of the present speaker. Timed pauses of 0.3 seconds or longer are indicated in parentheses. Mora which were given additional emphasis or stress by a speaker are capitalized. A list of transcription symbols appears on page xxi.

Despite repeated reviews of the audiotaped data, some portions of talk remained incomprehensible or unclear to the investigator and native informants who assisted in the transcription process. These sections of the data are indicated with the mark "XX."

In the discussions of the data throughout the thesis, the forms “s/he" and “his/her” have been adopted to avoid sexist usage. For cases in which “his/her" would have been too cumbersome, either “his" or “her" is used alone. In order to protect the privacy of the individuals who participated in this study, names, telephone numbers, addresses, and invoice munbers (for shipments mentioned in the transcripts) have been changed.

'Distal style (.desuZ-masu form) is a term used in Jorden with Noda (1987) to indicate a style of speech adopted by speakers who maintain a degree of linguistic distance and display a degree of deference and solicitude toward their addressees (such as colleagues or acquaintances), and/or toward the topic o f discussion. Distal style is contrasted with direct style, which refers to a variety of speech usually adopted by speakers in more informal contexts, toward close friends or intimates. The use o f these styles is not necessarily reciprocal; for example, a superior may address a subordinate using direct style, but the subordinate would probably adopt distal style.

XVlIl LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS USED IN EXAMPLES AND DATA ANALYSIS^

SUB subject particle OBJ object particle TOP topic particle GL goal particle LOG locative particle SP sentence particle^ Q question particle-^ QT quotative particle CN connective particle INST instrumental particle CP copula EP extended predicate construction ipf imperfective Pf perfective neg negative ger gerund inf verbal infinitive (stem) cau causative cns consultative end conditional des desiderative

-Generally speaking, the grammatical terminology for Japanese used in this thesis is that o f Jorden with Noda (1987), Japanese: The Spoken Language. ^These particles are so named because they occur at the end of sentences. They convey the speaker’s attitude toward the proposition. '^Although marked herein as a question particle, ka is actually a sentence particle which follows a predicate either in sentence-final position or within a sentence after an embedded question.

XIX imp imperative prv provisional pas passive pcau passive-causative pot potential tent tentative

(+) polite style-neutral (Î) polite style-honorific ('!') polite style-humble (->) direct style^

C Caller A Answerer SR Service Recipient SP Service Provider

HES hesitation noise FS false start BC back-channel ATP attention focuser m interjection ACK acknowledgment

JBTC Japanese business transactional telephone conversations KI Kansai Imports KS Kobe Shipping TB Tokyo Bookstore GA statement of grounded assurance

^This will only be noted if the predicate as a whole ends in direct style; if a direct-style verbal is combined with a distal-style verbal, no special indication will be given.

XX LIST OF TRANSCRIPTION SYMBOLS

[ ] Indicates Japanese material that would sound odd or be omitted in English. Comments supplementing the transcript are also included in brackets, for example; [laughs]. ( ) In English glosses, indicates material that would sound odd or be omitted in Japanese. Within Japanese phrases, indicates optional material, e.g., (itumo) osewa ni natt(e)- (ori)masii. XX Indicates a portion of talk that was incomprehensible or unclear ? rising intonation, as in “Ano ne?”, “Ildmasu ka?” falling intonation, as in “Soo datta no yo.” ! sharp falling intonation, as in “Kyoo wa konai yo ne!” : lengthening of the previous vowel or consonant sound /hhh/ intake of breath (0.3) timed pause (here, of 0.3 seconds) // overlap with the next utterance^ / alternate form (for pattems given in examples) indicates a contracted expression # indicates a pragmatically incorrect utterance

^This symbol indicates the point at which the speaker in the following line interrupts. To save space, the subsequent utterance is not indented, although this is sometimes done to graphically convey the pattern of interaction between participants.

XXI CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION: MOTIVATION AND AIMS

1.1 Motivation for the present study

In teaching language, it is only natural that we begin with the simple, and progress

to the complex; that we introduce more commonly occurring patterns before those that are

less common. Far too often, however, textbooks, teachers and language programs provide a plethora of patterns with little space or time devoted to careful development of the linguistic, communicative, and cultural competence of students vis à vis those patterns. Often the patterns are introduced out of context, with few if any accompanying notes or guidance which might indicate to the reader/learner how a given expression is used: that Is, with whom, on what occasions, and for what purpose. It is precisely these particularities that are culture-bound and therefore opaque to the non-native speaker, particularly one who has not experienced life in the country where the language is spoken—or to put it another way, in the world where the moves of that language find their situated meaning. Even in our own culture, much of the language we use everyday often escapes our notice. As Ludwig Wittgenstein noted in his Philosophical

Investigations (I, §129),

The aspects of things that are more important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity. (One is unable to notice something because it is always before one’s eyes.) The real foundations of his enquiry do not strike a man at all. Unless that fact has at some time struck him. And this means: we fail to be struck by what, once seen, is most striking and powerful. (1953:50^) One of the ways in which some of the hidden aspects of language may come to light is through the mistakes that we make, either as native speakers or as learners of another language—that is, when these mistakes are brought to our attention. The present study was in fact motivated by two such mistakes, one made by a bilingual speaker of

English and Japanese, and the other by a student of Japanese whose native language is

English. By way of introduction, I will relate the stories of those two mistakes here.

1.1.1 The importance of role relationships

In the summer of 1991,1 served as a Japanese instructor in a language orientation program for American students who were about to study for a year at a Japanese university. The entire staff consisted of a group of about five full and part-time native

Japanese teachers, as well as a young woman named Etsuko' who was working as our office assistant. Etsuko had grown up bilingual in the United States; she spoke Japanese at home with her parents, who are both native speakers, but used English at school and with her friends.

Etsuko’s job description as office assistant included xeroxing handouts, helping in the preparation of teaching materials, and running errands to purchase supplies and other items deemed necessary for the smooth operation of the program. One day over lunch, while the staff members were discussing materials preparation for upcoming lessons, several of the instructors indicated a need for some office supplies, and a list was drawn up of these items. Just at that moment in the conversation, another instructor suggested that they also needed some stamps. Etsuko, who was probably already assuming that she would be going out to purchase the supplies, offered to go buy the stamps as well, saying.

'ah personal names, as well as the names of companies and other organizations, have been changed in this thesis for privacy reasons. (1-1) # Katte kite agemasyoo ka? buy-ger come-ger give to out-group-cns- Q

‘Shall (I) go buy (them) foryou?’-^

Etsuko’s mother, who happened to be one of the teachers on our staff, immediately

corrected her, saying that

(1-2) Katte mairimasyoo ka? buy-ger come-cns (i) Q

‘Shall (I) go buy (them)?’

would be more appropriate in that context.

From my own English base-language perspective, Etsuko’s mistake seemed to be

perfectly understandable. After all, offering to do someone a favor in English often

includes the phrase, ‘for you’ as an indication of one’s willingness to do something of

benefit for one’s addressee—consider examples such as ‘Can I get the door for you?’ and

‘I can have that for you right away.’ Moreover, a few of the Japanese textbooks I had

used in the past indicated that the donatory verb agerii (‘give to out-group’) is equivalent

to ‘for you’ when used as an auxiliary in combination with other verbs."* This is exactly

the kind of pattern which Etsuko employed in (1-1). So why was this usage inappropriate

in this context?

-‘Out-group’ here refers to sow. as opposed to ‘in-group,’ or uti. The uti/soto dichotomy is a fundamental orientational concept in Japanese society which I will address in more detail in Chapter 4. See Bachnik and Quinn (1994) for a collection o f essays which discuss the various ways in which this orientation is expressed in relation to the Japanese self, Japanese society, and through the Japanese language. ^In the performance o f any errand, there are three basic actions involved: going, doing the action of the main verb, and returning (coming back). In English, we express the first two actions, as demonstrated in the English gloss for this example. The ‘coming back’ portion is inferred by the listener. In Japanese, however, the second and third actions in the series are expressed (i.e., doing the action of the main verb and returning), and the initial action of ‘going’ is left unmentioned. ‘‘See, for example, Mizutani and Mizutani (1977:270-273). There were two problems with Etsuko's utterance. The first relates to the pragmatic constraints on the use of the donatory auxiliary pattern, !-te agend? Japanese speakers frequently employ this donatory auxiliary among equals or with subordinates in order to suggest that the action of the main verb is being undertaken as a favor to the addressee. For example, if a group of students are traveling together on a field trip and they want to take a souvenir photograph in front of a famous spot, their teacher might offer to take the picture for them, saying,

(1-3) Totte ageyoo ka? take-ger give to out-group-cns (—>) Q

‘Shall (I) take (it) for you?’

Taking pictures is not normally something that teachers are obligated or expected to do for their students on a regular basis. In this particular case, however, it is a task which the teacher can easily perform which would otherwise be difficult for the students who are to be in the picture to do themselves. Therefore the teacher’s use of ageru here to express a favor is pragmatically acceptable. The teacher adopts the direct style of the auxiliary, ageyoo, because she is addressing her subordinates.

If we were to change the situation slightly such that one member within the group of students were to offer to take the picture for the others, that student would most likely say.

(1-4) Boku ga toroo ka? I SUB take-cns (—>) Q

‘Shall (I) (be the one to) take (it)?’

^That is, the gerund form of the main verb, followed byagent, the donatory auxiliary. As the English gloss indicates, the student is essentially asking if he, rather than another member of the group, should be the one to take the picture. Because he is a member of the group, it would be odd for him to offer the taking of the picture as a favor, this is why he does not use the auxiliary ageru. Rather, he uses the consultative form of the main verb in direct style as he addresses his peers.

When speaking to superiors, Japanese will usually avoid using the auxiliary ageru

(or its honorific polite equivalent, sasiageru) because it can sound condescending. As

Alfonso (1989:471 ) and Maruyama ( 1994:154) have noted, the auxiliary makes explicit the idea that the speaker is undertaking something as a favor for the interlocutor. Such an explicit reference is considered to be in poor taste, particularly if the action involves something that the superior is capable of doing by him or herself. Moreover, if the action in question is something which the subordinate is expected to do in any case, the use of the auxiliary incorrectly indexes the current role relationship between the subordinate and the superior. In the case of (1-1), since it was part of Etsuko’s normal range of duties to run errands, the fact that she was offering to go buy the stamps as a favor to her superiors, using the donatory auxiliary, was pragmatically inappropriate.

The second problem with Etsuko’s utterance involves the level of politeness which she adopted when addressing her superiors. Her offer in (1-1), Katte kite agemasyoo ka? is a distal-style, plain imperfective utterance which indicates (through the morpheme l-mas-f) a certain measure of formality or social distance between Etsuko and her addressees, but lacks the sense of deference toward a superior which is indexed by the humble polite auxiliary maim in (1-2), Katte mairimasyoo ka?

We might imagine one other alternative response for Etsuko in this situation, and that is as follows. Had the discussion over lunch only involved the matter of buying supplies, without the additional mention of stamps, Etsuko might instead have replied. (1-5) Zyaa, katte mairimasu. in that case buy-ger come-ipf (i)

‘In that case, (D’H go buy (them).’

By responding in this manner, Etsuko would be able to indicate that she is aware of the

needs expressed by the teachers and could assure them of her willingness and intention to

complete the errand.

These examples illustrate the crucial importance of role relationships obtaining

among participants to the lexical, syntactic, and pragmatic appropriateness of a given

utterance in Japanese. We will explore this issue in more detail in this and subsequent

chapters as we consider examples from the data corpus.

1.1.2 The importance of genre in a performance-oriented approach to

language instruction

The second story I will relate took place in a first-year Japanese class at a small

liberal arts college in the United States. Two students, one male and one female, had been

selected by the instructor to perform the roles of waiter and customer, respectively, in a

service encounter in a restaurant. Prior to this class exercise, the ways in which orders for

food and drink are made in Japan had been modeled, discussed, and practiced with the

students, and as a result, the students were able to perform this aspect of the interaction easily and naturally, in a manner that would have been acceptable to native speakers in

Japan. However, when the students were encouraged to continue the interaction beyond

the point at which the food was presented to the customer, problems ensued. The student

who was playing the role of the waiter, after having left the customer momentarily,

returned to the table and inquired. (1-6) # Zenbu ikaga desu ka? all how CP-ipf Q

‘How about everything?’ [literal translation of the Japanese]

Although his utterance was grammatically correct, in the context of what we might call the

‘Japanese restaurant service encounter,’ it was pragmatically inappropriate. Had a native

Japanese speaker been playing the role of customer, s/he might have been perplexed as to the point of the waiter’s utterance, which in Japanese conveys something to the effect of

‘How about (having) everything?’ (i.e., in the restaurant, or what is in stock).

The student’s mistake clearly stems from the fact that while the English utterance,

“How is everything?” is a pragmatically appropriate utterance in an American context, its word-for-word translation represents an inappropriate move in Japan. In the United

States, waiters typically return to the table to check with their customers to make sure that

“everything” is to their satisfaction. By doing so, they indirectly offer assistance to their customers; if something is amiss, they will attempt to rectify the situation. However, an inquiry of the same sort would be almost unimaginable in Japan. In most Japanese restaurants and coffee shops, waiters usually do not return to the table after serving food to their customers, except perhaps to pour water. Customers will call out for assistance if there is a problem with the meal, or if they wish to order additional items. Upon completion of the meal, customers are expected to take the bill that has been left on the table and pay at the register, which is usually located near the entrance of the restaurant.^

Comparing these two contexts, it becomes clear that what is said and left unsaid, done and not done, by Japanese and American waiters and customers differs significantly. In other words, what we might call the ‘restaurant service encounter genre’

^The American custom o f tipping also docs not extend to Japan, although a service charge of 15% is sometimes added to the bill. encompasses different verbal and non-verbal behavior in the two cultures. As a result,

American students cannot hope to rely on their native English intuitions and merely translate what they would say in the United States into Japanese if they expect to act successfully in the Japanese context. But if the method of classroom instruction takes an item-oriented approach in which vocabulary comes mainly in lists, and grammatical patterns in stand-alone examples with rules limited to structural matters, such interlanguage phenomena are likely to reoccur.^

To address these problems, we might instead adopt a performance-oriented approach which affords students numerous opportunities to observe and practice a wide variety of models of native speaker behavior in particular situations. Over time, we may increase the degree of complexity and specialization of the models which students perform in the classroom. Guided rehearsal and feedback on students’ performance are essential steps in the process, which aims at helping students to develop reliable yet flexible intuitions as to what constitutes culturally and pragmatically appropriate behavior in a wide range of situations. This necessarily involves a recognition of the fact that one word or string of words might be used in more than one context. Wittgenstein once noted,

“Don’t ask for the meaning, ask for the use,’’ and this is advice we might pass on to our students as they grapple with a truly foreign language such as Japanese.

As opposed to the piecemeal approach to teaching grammar and vocabulary, this methodology reflects a larger, more holistic notion of language as a way of being in a world. Worlds differ from culture to culture and even from one discourse community to another, but they are alike in that they represent “a structure of knowledge that permits an individual to predict behavior, understand intention, and share meaning.”*

^See Selinker (1974). Corder ( 1978) and Omaggio (1986) for discussions of interlanguage phenomena. *Galal Walker, as paraphrased in Quinn (1996). 1.2 Initial aims of the investigation

Based on my observations of the difficulties faced by learners in moving from one

world to another—that is, between the United States and Japan, I initially intended to

undertake an investigation that would seek to identify the range of forms of offers of

assistance in Japanese and the ways in which these might be pragmatically constrained by

situational factors such as the age, sex, relative status and roles of participants in a variety

of interactions. The social action of offering services in Japanese has not been addressed

in much detail in the literature; such an investigation would therefore seem to be warranted.

In order to obtain samples of naturally occurring data from different contexts, I decided to record telephone conversations at two different types of organizations in

Japan—commercial and educational— in two different geographical locales, namely Kanto and Kansai.’ Over a period of several months, I was able to collect over 100 hours of conversations from a total of six different organizations. (Details concerning methodology are discussed in Chapter 3, and a description and key to transcription conventions appears on pp. xvii-xxi.

Since many of the audiotape recordings were of relatively formal, business or education-related conversations, I also collected over 1(X) hours of videotape recordings of Japanese television dramas which focus on family life and young people in order to obtain a wider variety of both formal and informal social occasions and interactions.

After repeated listenings and careful transcription of over 50 hours of the audiotaped data, however, it became clear that (1) the frequency of occurrence of offers was lower than initially anticipated, and (2) the range of forms of offers was limited but

'’Kanto is the eastern region of Japan centered around Tokyo, and Kansai is the western region centered around Osaka, Kyoto, and Kobe. exhibited a clear pattern within a particular situational and generic'*’ frame. Based on these findings, I decided to narrow the scope of the study, as described in the following sections.

1.3 Scope and goals of the present study

1.3.1 Identifying and describing a genre: Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (JBTCs)

In the data that were transcribed and analyzed for this study, it was found that offers of assistance were especially likely to occur within the context of telephone conversations that involved the initiation, continuation, or completion of business transactions such as the purchase of food, books, airline tickets, and the like. These offers were of three general types: (a) offers to have a particular person return a phone call; (b) offers to look into a service problem and (in some cases) call back; and (c) offers to remedy service problems ‘on the spot.’ While offers of type (a) tended to occur during the opening section of telephone conversations (an example appears in the conversation presented in Appendix C), those of type (b) and (c) occurred during the main body of the conversation, and appear to have been motivated by the reporting of service related problems (examples o f this type appear in Appendix D, E, F, G, and H).

In addition to displaying similarities in thematic content, the conversations in which offers were observed also exhibited a remarkable consistency in terms of overall compositional stmcture and style. For the purpose of illustration, let us briefly consider two such conversations here. The first is a call in which a female member of the Sales

Department of Tokyo Bookstore calls a book publisher in order to inquire about an

"’“Generic" as the adjectival equivalent of “genre.”

10 incomplete shipment of books which she recently received. For reference, the complete text appears in Appendix E.

The conversation begins as a male employee of Fukuda Books answers the telephone and provides his company name and section affiliation, rather than identifying himself personally. The caller, in response, identifies herself only very generally, as a

‘bookstore’ (line 2). Following this identification, she utters the salutation, osewa ni natte- ’masu, which roughly translated means “Thank you for your continued support/ assistance.” The clerk of Fukuda Books reciprocates, providing an identical salutation.

Once this initial exchange has been completed, the caller begins to explain the reason for her call. Her first utterance (Ano desu nee!) is very brief, but functions to focus the listener’s attention on what is to come (hence it is labeled an “attention focuser” in the transcript). Following an acknowledgment by the clerk, the caller explains that she would like to have him look into something, and is given a go-ahead (.Hai) to continue.

In the next portion of the call (lines 8-26), the caller provides a series of details relating to the incomplete shipment. First she mentions the date and the place from which the books were ordered; sotira anaphorically refers to ‘that side (of the conversation)’ or

‘that place (nearer the addressee),’ so the caller is using a form of spatial deixis to refer to

Fukuda Books. She then attempts to clarify her explanation by pointing out that it is a telephone order to which she has been referring. The clerk does not respond, so she continues, informing him that it was four picture books that she ordered. Of those four volumes, she notes that only three have arrived, so she wonders whether or not the remaining volume has been sent out. As she begins to ask that the clerk look into the matter, he interrupts, indicating that he has understood what she is asking.

In order for the clerk to be able to make inquiries, however, the caller realizes that he will need more information. Therefore in line 16 she gives him her company name, i.e.

11 Tokyo Bookstore, which the clerk immediately and politely acknowledges but does not respond to otherwise. Since an offer of assistance is still not forthcoming, the caller goes on to specify the title of the missing book, which is Hahaha no hanasi, or “The Tale of

Ha-ha-ha.” The clerk confirms that it is one copy (that she needs), and asks her to wait a moment.

After the clerk has returned to the phone and apologized for the delay in line 29, he reconfirms that it is one copy of Hahaha no hanasi to which she is referring. When the caller acknowledges this, the clerk continues and requests the routing number, which is a code used among bookstores for ordering purposes. This immediately indicates to the caller that the clerk has incorrectly assumed that she had wanted to (re)order the book.

The caller therefore corrects the clerk’s mistaken assumption in lines 34-41 by restating (this time more tentatively) her question as to whether it is possible the missing book was never sent out. She also restates the fact that among the four books ordered, it was The Tale o f Ha-ha-ha which did not arrive. The clerk formally acknowledges this information by saying Haa, haa, but still makes no move to assist, so the caller is forced to explicitly request his help by saying in line 41 that she had wanted to have him check as to whether or not the book had been shipped.

Finally the clerk seems to realize the point of her call, for he asks in line 42 if she means “confirmation” (of the shipment). She acknowledges this, but perhaps due to the clerk’s subsequent silence she goes on to reassure him that if it seems the book has not been dispatched, she will place an order for another copy.

This sufficiently clarifies the situation for the clerk, who then offers in lines 48 and 50 to find out whether or not there is a form indicating completion of the delivery {De wa itioo den.'pyoo-si — hakkoo-si am ka cloo ka:, sirabemasu no de...). In response, the caller reiterates the crucial information that the order was placed on the 27th of April.

12 The clerk confirms this, and then requests the agent number, the agent, and location information. As the caller provides these details, the clerk confirms them in turn.

After checking to be sure that this is all that the caller needs, the clerk offers in line

66 to confirm the delivery and call back (E: de wa ka—kakiinin simasite, odenwa sasite itadakimasu no de). The caller acknowledges this, and then the clerk requests her phone number and name, which she provides. In line 74 the clerk indicates he has understood

(what it is he must do), and the two take their leave of each other.

What is perhaps most striking about this conversation is how difficult it is for Ms.

Yamada to convey to the clerk what it is she would like him to do—or conversely, how difficult it is for the clerk to understand what it is that she is requesting. The miscommunication would appear to stem from the clerk’s mistaken assumption that Ms.

Yamada is calling to order a book. This is a natural assumption for an employee of the sales section of a publishing company to make; indeed, on the same tape from which this conversation was taken, there were numerous other conversations in which Ms. Yamada placed calls to other publishers. In these calls, she introduced herself in identical fashion

(i.e., merely as a syoten, ‘bookstore’). She then made a brief statement that she was calling to place an order, mentioned the title of the book, and either volunteered or was asked to present the same details about the agency name, number, and her own company name and location. Except for the fact that the title of the books and sometimes the agency name and number differed, these conversations proceeded in an almost verbatim fashion.

From this observation, we can hypothesize that the people who place and receive these calls on a regular basis are not only familiar with the specific vocabulary necessary to achieve their goals—in this case, to place book orders—but also that through experience, the participants in these conversations have built up a set of expectations as to when, how and what they should say in order to go about their business. Likewise, they

13 have also developed assumptions about what will be asked of them at certain points in a

conversation, provided that the conversation involves the type of transaction they are

accustomed to handling.

To underscore this point, let us consider another conversation which contains a

similar misunderstanding. In the conversation which appears in Appendix F, a female

operations staff member of an import company in Kansai places a call to one of the banks

which handles their business. The opening section of the call unfolds in a slightly

different fashion from that of the call we have just examined, because the initial recipient

of the call is the bank’s automated, push-button activated response system. The caller is

given a series of options, from which she selects customer service.

After a pause while the call is connected, a representative in charge of the

department answers, apologizes for the delay, and identifies herself by name. She then proceeds to ask the caller for certain identification information, i.e. the number and name on the account (lines 13 and 19, respectively). The representative thanks the customer for the information, and in response the customer extends a salutation that is similar to that which we saw in the previous conversation: Osewa ni narimasu ‘(I) will become obliged

(to you) for your assistance.’

The representative then asks the caller for the personal identification number

(PIN), which she provides, thanks her once more, and asks her to wait a moment

(presumably as she brings up the account information on her computer screen: she can be heard typing in the background). After apologizing for the delay, she acknowledges the caller {Kansai Yimyuu-sama, ‘Ms. Kansai Imports’), and in line 29 offers to provide the current balance on the account.

In response, the caller from Kansai Imports apologizes, and explains in lines 32 and 34 that it is (in reference to) the transaction report form that she would like to make an

14 inquiry. Once the customer service representative realizes this, she offers to handle the matter, saying Ouke itasimasii no de... (line 35).

The remainder of this conversation proceeds in a similar manner to that of the first conversation. The caller relates certain information that will help the customer service representative identify the particular transaction report form she is inquiring about, and then points out her problem: that there was a wire transfer on the form which originated from a customer whose name is not on their list, so she would like to have the bank look up his contact information. The representative confirms what it is that she is being requested to do, indicates that she has understood, and promises to call back {E:to sore de wa, orikaesi odenwa sasite itadakimasu no de). She also asks for the caller’s telephone number. The caller not only provides this, but also gives her name, which the representative politely confirms. The representative responds by restating her own name, the caller makes a general request that she take care of the matter(yorosiku onegai simasu), and the two take their leave of each other.

In this conversation, as we saw in the first, a misunderstanding has arisen regarding the caller’s intentions. Here again, the representative receiving the call appears to have made an assumption which she probably developed through experience in her normal range of duties— in this case, she assumes that callers to her line are interested in receiving their current account balances. By asking for permission to provide that information, the representative no doubt believes that she will be undertaking a service of benefit to the addressee; her utterance can thus be construed as an offer of assistance."

"The pattern which the customer service representative uses, /(X) -te/de yorosii desu ka?!, is comparable to the request for permission in English, Is it all right if (I) (do) X?’ It is frequently used in service contexts to offer assistance; for example, a waiter or waitress can offer to clear the table for a customer by saying, Osage site yorosii desu ka?. ‘Is it all right if (I) withdraw (the dishes from the table)?’

15 What the caller from Kansai Imports is inquiring about, however, is a more unusual procedure for the bank; the transaction report forms to which she refers have been developed through a special arrangement between the two organizations. As a result, all of the customer service representatives are not equally familiar with these documents.

Yet once the caller has clarified what she needs, the customer service representative is able to respond appropriately, offering to call back once she has the information.

While these two conversations would seem to illustrate cases in which participants are initially ««familiar with what is expected of them, there were many conversations in the data corpus which demonstrated how smoothly an interaction can proceed between two speakers who are in regular contact with each other. One such example appears in

Appendix D, but since it will be treated in detail in Chapter 5, we will not discuss it here.

Despite the differences among these conversations in terms of the participants' familiarity with the service-related problems which callers have experienced, as was suggested earlier, in terms of compositional structure and style the conversations actually exhibit strong similarities. Each call appears to be divided into an opening section, a transition section, a general discussion of a business transaction-related problem which is followed by an offer or assurance of assistance, and a closing section. Participants usually address each other using distal style predicates, often adopt honorific and/or humble polite forms, and usually avoid contractions, sentence fragments or inverted sentences. Taken together, this indicates that speakers are selecting a careful, rather than casual style of speech.'- In terms of thematic content, there is consistency among these texts as well; all of the conversations revolve around the reporting of problems and the offering of assistance in connection with certain business transactions.

'-These styles will be discussed in more detail in Chapter 3.

16 Based on these findings, it was decided that rather than focus exclusively on the

forms of the offers themselves as well as any pragmatic factors that might constrain their

use in a broad range of contexts, the present investigation would instead propose that

these texts be considered as enactments of a certain genre of activity—namely Japanese

business transactional telephone conversations. In this way, we can analyze the ways in

which service related problems are reported, and relate these to the forms and functions of offers of assistance that occur in response to those problems within this particular context.']

1.3.2 Bakhtin and the notion of speech genres

The notion of speech genres as described by Bakhtin (1986:60) is useful for our analysis:

All the diverse areas of human activity involve the use of language. Quite understandably, the nature and forms of this use are just as diverse as are the areas of human activity....Language is realized in the form of individual concrete utterances (oral and written) by participants in the various areas of human activity. These utterances reflect the specific conditions and goals of each such area not only through their content (thematic) and linguistic style, that is, the selection of the lexical, phraseological, and grammatical resources of the language, but above all, through their compositional structure. All three of these aspects—thematic content, style, and compositional structure—are inseparably linked to the whole of the utterance and are equally determined by the specific nature of the particular sphere of communication. Each separate utterance is individual, of course, but each sphere in which language is used develops its own relatively stable types of these utterances. These we may call speech genres.

In traditional pragmatic terms, an utterance is considered to be the contextual ized analogue to the more abstract, theoretical notion of a sentence, although it can also refer to

*]As will be explained in Chapter 3, problem reports and offers of assistance will be considered as sub genres of the larger, overarching genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations.

17 a sentence fragment.*-* In this sense of the word, one speaker might produce several

utterances over the course of his or her individual turn in a conversation.To Bakhtin,

however, the utterance as a unit of speech communication was best exemplified by what

he called “rejoinders of daily dialogue,” and he argued that the boundary between one

utterance and another was marked by the change in speakers in conversation (1986:60).*^

This notion of rejoinder is essential to Bakhtin’s view of language, for he believed that each utterance not only responds to the utterances that precede it, but also anticipates those that follow. In this way, he noted, “Utterances are not indifferent to one another, and are not self-sufficient; they are aware of and mutually reflect one another” (Ibid.:91 ).

This perspective on the utterance reflects the way in which words acquire their meanings. In selecting words to express ourselves, we first consider the entirety of our

“speech plan”—our intention. Yet despite the fact that each word may have a “neutral” form that appears in a dictionary, Bakhtin claimed that we also make our selections with an eye to how the words have been used in other utterances, particularly those that share thematic, compositional, and stylistic similarities to what it is we are seeking to express.

He therefore concluded that

We choose words according to their generic specifications. A speech genre is not a form of language, but a typical form of utterance; as such the genre also includes a certain typical kind of expression that inheres in it. In the genre the word acquires a particular typical expression. Genres correspond to typical situations of speech communication, typical themes, and, consequently, also to particular contacts between the meanings of words and actual concrete reality under certain typical circumstances. (1986:87)

*"*See, for example, Levinson’s (1983:18) definitions of the sentence and the utterance. '^This is generally the sense in which the term “utterance” is used in this investigation as well. *G[n this sense, Bakhtin’s definition o f the utterance resembles Sacks, Schegloff and Jefferson’s (1974) notion of a turn in conversation.

18 The meaning of a word, then, “originates at the point of contact between the word and actual reality, under the conditions of that real situation articulated by the individual utterance” (1986:88). To borrow a term from Bachnik and Quinn (1994), the sense of what a word conveys arises from its situated meaning.

Looking at the situation more broadly, we see that generic constraints guide us in the ways in which we put words to use as we participate in our daily activities:

Genres provide a specific field for future activity, and such activity is never just an “application,” “instantiation,” or repetition of a pattern. Genres carry the generalizable resources o f particular events', but specific actions or utterances must use those resources to accomplish new purposes in each unrepeatable milieu. Each utterance, each use of a genre, demands real work; beginning with the given, something different must be created (Morson and Emerson 1990:291; emphasis mine).

This “real work” is performed by speakers who are familiar with the generic resources of their language. The way in which speakers acquire this familiarity with genres, Bakhtin argues, is analagous to the way in which they acquire the structures of their native language—not through a conscious study of the rules in a grammar and vocabulary in a dictionary, but rather “from concrete utterances that we hear and that we ourselves reproduce in live speech communication with people around us”:

The forms of language and the typical forms of utterances, that is, speech genres, enter our experience and our consciousness together, and in close connection with one another. To learn to speak means to leam to construct utterances (because we speak in utterances and not in individual sentences, and, of course, not in individual words). (Bakhtin 1986:78)

This observation has significant consequences for second language learning and language pedagogy. As Morson and Emerson (1990:291-2) note.

To know a language is to command a repertoire of its speech genres, which means to understand more than ‘language’ in the narrow sense. Each genre implies a set of values, a way of thinking about kinds of

19 experience, and an intuition about the appropriateness of applying the genres in any given context. An enormous amount of unformalized cognitive content is acquired each time we leam a new kind of social activity with its attendant genres, content whose very nature has remained largely unexamined.

The explication of this “unformalized cognitive content” is no easy task, but for pedagogical purposes, it is essential that we try to convey this information as we identify, describe, and teach various speech genres to our students. Moreover, although there may be parallels across languages in terms of the types of social activities (and therefore speech genres) in which speakers participate—for example requesting, offering and promising—the way in which these activities “play out” within an individual culture may in fact differ. As we saw earlier in this chapter in the case of a student trying to perform in the “restaurant service encounter genre,” the mere translation of the words used in one’s native language to a parallel situation in a different culture often does not suffice (indeed, it can often confuse). Our approach to the study and teaching of speech genres must thus be a culturally nuanced one.

It is hoped that through a thorough examination of conversations such as those presented in this study, we can come to understand the various ways in which speakers in certain role relationships in particular situations behave as they seek to achieve certain goals. In other words, by examining speakers’ behavior in similar contexts, we might develop a better understanding—for ourselves and our students—as to how speakers perform certain activities in a manner that is both linguistically and culturally appropriate.

We should also be able to observe through such an investigation what types of beliefs, expectations, and assumptions speakers share through their mutual participation in these activities. We have seen that although there are compositional, thematic, and stylistic similarities among texts that would seem to exemplify a particular genre, there is some variation. Certain situational constraints may dictate slight additions or changes in

2 0 the structure of a text; for example, in the conversation between Kansai Imports and the

bank presented earlier, for security purposes it was necessary for the customer service

representative to begin the interaction with a request for account information. We also

observed in the same conversation that technological advances can change the outward

appearance of an interaction; the initial call recipient was a computerized answering

system, rather than a human. Nevertheless, the conversation would appear to be an

instance of a Japanese business transactional telephone conversation, because it still exhibits a certain confluence of structural, thematic, and stylistic features.

In this regard, what is particularly attractive about the notion of speech genres

from an analytical standpoint is the fact that they allow for—indeed, readily incorporate— a certain degree of flexibility. Speech genres have fuzzy edges; although they represent a potentially infinite number of stable forms of spoken interaction (reflecting the vast heterogeneity of human activity), they ebb and flow over time, for they are inevitably grounded in speakers’ own behavior. Swales (1990:88) has noted that “the nature of genres is that they coalesce what is sayable with when and how it is sayable.” As “what is sayable” changes diachronically, genres too must change. As a result, genres represent

“the residue of past behavior, [as well as] an accretion that shapes, guides, and constrains future behavior” (Morson and Emerson 1990:290).

1.3.3 Working definition of offers for this study

For the purpose of identifying offers within the genre of business transactional telephone conversations, the following working definition was adopted:

An offer of assistance may be said to have occurred when a service provider either implicitly or explicitly commits him/herself to satisfying the needs of a service recipient (either by agreeing to do so or by volunteering

21 to do so). These needs may be perceived by the service provider, with or without their explicit expression by the service recipient.'?

1.3.4 Focal exchange: Reporting problems and offering assistance

Within the proposed genre of business transactional telephone conversations, this investigation will primarily be concerned with the analysis of one particular type of exchange (or sub-genre) that involves the reporting of problems. These exchanges may be described generally as follows.

( 1 ) A customer or intermediary (“service recipient”) contacts a company (“service provider”) by telephone to report a problem with a service that had been scheduled at a date and time previous to the present telephone conversation. In the examples observed in the data and discussed herein, typically this service entails the shipment of goods such as food or books through parcel delivery companies; however, in two cases, the service involved the provision of bank statements which indicate the receipt of wire transfers.'*

(2) Upon hearing the details of the problem, but not necessarily after having been explicitly requested to do so, the service provider responds by offering to take a step toward remedying the problem.

(3) Depending upon the service provider’s ability to resolve the problem immediately, a solution is either proposed or the representative indicates s/he will check into the matter and perhaps contact the customer again.

'?In some examples in the data the roles are reversed, such that it is the service recipient who is extending the offer. These represent a minority of cases, however. See the next section for a more specific explanation of the roles of service provider and service recipient. '*! have selected “service recipient” rather than “customer” as a cover term because two types of calls were observed in the data. In the first, a customer contacts the company from which s/he ordered certain goods (such as food or books) to indicate, for example, that a shipment never arrived. In this type of call, the customer is the service recipient and the company contacted is the service provider. In the second type of call, which represents a follow-up of the first, the company contacted by the customer calls the shipper to report the problem. In this case, the company contacted by the customer is the service recipient, and the shipper is the service provider. For clarification, in many cases I have used the term “caller” and “call recipient” instead.

2 2 1.3.5 Forms which service providers use in offering assistance

As was noted earlier, within the scope of this study the forms chosen by Japanese speakers in making offers of assistance were quite limited. Among business transactional telephone calls, two forms were observed to occur regularly. In this section, I will briefly describe the meaning and function of these forms in order to lay the groundwork for a more detailed discussion in Chapters 5 and 6 of their use in particular contexts.

1.3.5.1 Seeking confirmation: the consultative l-{mas)(y)oo ka?/

The first form is the consultative pattern /-(mas)(y)oo ka?/, which we have already observed in examples (1-1), (1-2), (1-3) and (1-4). This pattern, which may occur either in distal style /-masyoo/ or direct style /-(y)oo/, may be used by a speaker to seek confirmation from the addressee that s/he wishes the speaker to do the service under discussion. In the case of (1-1), Etsuko was already aware of the need expressed by the teachers for the purchase of certain office supplies, but she was perhaps not certain as to whether or not the teachers expected her to buy the stamps as well. Her mistake in uttering Katte kite agemasyoo ka?, as noted earlier, related to the pragmatic inappropriateness of the donatory auxiliary. Note, however, that the consultative

/-masyoo ka?/ portion of her offer was not incorrect; in fact, the form suggested by her mother in (1-2), Katte mairimasyoo lea?, maintains the distal consultative ending.

If Etsuko had been more certain that there was an expectation on the part of the teachers that she should purchase not only the supplies, but the stamps as well, she might have used the declarative alternative presented in (1-5):

23 (1-5) Zyaa, katte mairimasiO^ in that case buy-ger come-ipf (i)

‘In that case, (I)’U go buy (them)’.

If, for example, she had purchased stamps in the past and was being requested to do so

again, she might have simply stated this in a declarative form. Since the period of time in

which she had been serving as office assistant had been quite limited, however, it is

possible that she did not yet have a clear sense of the obligations which her role entailed.

In the case of example (1-3), Totte ageyoo ka?, there were no pre-established

role expectations as to who should take the picture. Therefore the teacher’s use of both the

donatory auxiliary ageru and the !-{y)oo ka?! consultative pattern was appropriate, in

order to seek confirmation from the students that she, and not someone else, should take

the picture.

The use of the!-masyoo ka?i pattern in the business transactional telephone

conversations recorded for this study is consistent with the analysis just presented. Of the

three types of offers described above in section 1.3.1, those of type (a), offers to have

someone call back, never included donatory auxiliaries and occurred most frequently in

the!-masyoo ka?! form. This may be explained as follows. A secretary, as part of his or

her normal duties, answers the telephone, takes and passes along messages, and generally acts as a liaison between callers and company employees. Moreover, as part of the job, a secretary must often determine what a caller’s preference may be regarding a return call. It is possible, for example, that the caller might be in a meeting for the next several hours and would therefore not be reachable. By using !-masyoo ka?! in such situations, the secretary can leave the final decision up to the addressee, who may either confirm that

^'^Zyaa, katte mairimasu no de. is also possible here; the no de will be analyzed in section 1.3.5.2.

24 s/he wishes to have the requested person call back, or indicate that s/he herself will call

back at a later time. The secretary will avoid using the donatory auxiliary agent, or the

honorific equivalent sasiageru, because these inquiries in regard to return calls simply

constitute one aspect of the secretary’s usual duties. In other words, given the role

relationship obtaining between secretaries and callers in which it is the secretary’s job to

assist in the taking and forwarding of messages, it would be pragmatically inappropriate

for a secretary to speak as though the making of a return call were a favor done on behalf

of the caller.

To illustrate this usage of the !-masyoo ka?l pattern, let us consider ( 1-7), which

is taken from the Kansai data corpus.-° The caller, a male bank employee, has requested to speak with the general manager of Kansai Imports (IQ), an international firm located in

Kobe. Michiko Sasaki, the female employee of KI who takes his call, indicates that the manager is away from her seat at the moment, and offers to (have her) call back;

(1-7) I A: Tadaima seki haziisite- 'masite, modotte- kite- just now seat leave-ger be-ger retum-ger come-ger

inai n desu ga: be-neg-ipf EP but

‘It’s that (she)’s away from her desk right now and hasn’t returned, but...’

2 C: A soo desu ka. Wakarimasita. [pause] oh so CP-ipf Q become clear-pf

‘Oh, is that so. I see.’

3 A: Yorosikereba, kotira no hoc kara, orikaesi: good-prv this CN side from return

odenwa simasyoo ka? telephone call do-ipf-cns Q

‘If (you) like, shall (we/I) call (you) back [from this side]?’

similar example appears in Appendix C.

25 4 C: E:to: sosita:ra: HES in that case

‘Um, in that case,’

5 A: H at [pause] ACK

'Yes.'

6 C: A, dekimasitara, onegai dekimasu desyoo ka. oh be able-cnd request-ipf-pot (i) CP-tent Q

‘Oh, could (I) ask (you) to do (that)?’

By using the consultative orikaesi odenwa simasyoo ka in line 3, Ms. Sasaki defers to the caller’s wishes regarding a call back; her use of the provisional form yorosikereba in conjunction with the consultative pattern underscores the open-ended nature of her utterance. In response, the caller confirms that he would like to receive the return call.

1.3.5.2 Conveying a grounded assurance (GA) of one’s intentions: l-masu n(o) del

The second form which was observed to occur regularly in offers of assistance in

Japanese business transactional telephone calls was the declarative pattern i-masu n(o) del. Consider, for example, the following excerpt from another conversation in the

Kansai data corpus, in which a male customer has called Kansai Imports and has requested to speak with a particular person, but the call recipient indicates that the requested person is unavailable to take his call. The customer offers to call back again later, saying

(1-8) A, soo simasitara, mata ano notihodo kakesasite oh so do-cnd again HES later call-cau-ger

2 6 moraimasu-^ n de. get from out-group-ipf EP-ger

‘Oh, in that case, um, take the liberty of calling again later, so....’

In order to understand why this pattern is appropriate in this context, we must first

examine the more general function of the nominal no and its use in what has been called

the extended predicate construction.

1.3.5.3 Uses of no in different syntagmatic environments

Ray (1989:36) has categorized the various applications of the bound morpheme no

in different syntagmatic environments as follows:

(1-9) Uses of the nominal no in various syntagmatic environments:

Intra-phrasal: no creates a link between two nouns within a nominal phrase.

Intra-clausal: nominalizer no occurs within a clause, e.g. as head in a noun phrase that is subject, direct object, etc.

Inter clausal: nominalizer no participates in establishing the hypotactic relationship obtaining between two clauses.

Intra-discourse: nominalizer no is matrix predicate final (sometimes followed by sentence particles), and links the present moment in the discourse to some other information within the discourse, namely the content of the clause it nominalizes.

Let us consider examples of each of these uses in turn.--

-* As described by Jorden with Noda (1990:128), the combination /causative gerund +itadakimasiü “occurs commonly as a ritualistic, humble-polite statement of the speaker’s intention to do something that reflects or assumes the permission (and power) of the person addressed, comparable to English ‘I’m going to take the liberty of doing so-and-so’ (‘I’m going to accept [your] letting me to do so-and-so’).’’ There appears to be dialectical variation in the usage of this pattern, in that speakers in the Kansai region of Japan (such as the speaker in example 1-8) use the pattern l-sasete moraimasii/ md its variant/-saj/re moraimasu/ more frequently in such contexts than they would the humble polite equivalentsl-sasete itadakimasu! and i-sasite itadakimasul. The latter combinations are more typically used by Kanto speakers. According to a native informant, the combinations using the plain formmoraimasu have a rather commercial connotation that is perhaps more common to Kansai, although it is not inconceivable that the combinations using moraimasu could also be used in Kanto. For an example of the more standard use of I-sasite itadakimasul by a Kanto speaker, see example (4-9) in Chapter 4.

27 ( 1 - 10) Intra-phrasal use of no

Hanako no kiiruma Hanako car

‘Hanako’s car’

In its intra-phrasal application, no creates a link between two nouns in the pattern /X no

Y/, which may be glossed as ‘Y characterized in terms of X.’ When no connects two nouns in this way, the product is a noun phrase, hence the ‘intra-phrasal’ categorization.

In the resulting phrase, a particular characteristic, X, is associated or identified with the head noun, Y. In Ray’s words, “Y is referred to X.” Thus in example (1-10), we have an instance of a particular kind of car— that is, one owned or driven by Hanako.

(1-11) Intra-clausal use of no

Iku no wa Tanaka-san dake desu. go-ipf TOP Mr/s. Tanaka only CP-ipf

‘It is only Mr/s. Tanaka who will go.’

When no is used intra-clausally, it functions to nominalize a verbal, adjectival or nominal predicate. In example (1-11), no nominalizes the verbal predicate iku\ the resulting nominal phrase indicates the action of going. Once this act of going has been nominalized, it may then be referred to, or a comment may be made about it—which is precisely what occurs in the example above.

28 (1-12) Inter-clausal use of no-^

I ma isogasii no de ato de denwa simasu. now is busy CP-ger later telephone do-ipf

‘Being the case that (I)’m busy now. (I)’ll call (you ) later.’

The inter-clausal use of no is similar to the intra-clausal use of no in that both involve

nominalization. In example (1-12) above, no is combined with the gerund of the copula, resulting in a hypotactic or dependent relationship between two clauses, /clause; no de clause2/. Literally speaking, we may characterize expressions of this type as follows:

‘Being that clause;, clausei.’ The first clause is nominalized and subordinated to the second, and the information nominalized in that clause is presented or referred to as a given or presupposed— in other words, something that is non-challengeable— in relation to the superordinate clause that follows.-** What follows in the matrix clause may still be open to discussion. In (1-12), for example, the speaker is offering to call someone back later, due to the fact that she is busy. It is entirely conceivable that the recipient of this offer might refuse, offering instead to call back at a more convenient time. What she cannot do, however, is refute the information referred to by no—in this case, the fact that the first speaker is busy.

(1-13) Intra-discourse use of no

Tadaima hoka no denwa de hanasi -tyuii just now another CN telephone LC speaking in the middle of

na n desu.-^ CP-ipf EP

‘It’s that just now (she)’s talking on another line.’

-^Example taken front Ray (1989:81). -**See Ray ( 1989:66ff, 82ff) for a detailed description of this textual use of no. ^This example was taken from the conversation which appears in Appendix C.

29 This usage of no is what has been called the Extended Predicate (EP) construction

(Jorden 1963, Noda 1981, Jorden with Noda 1987) or the /no desu! construction

(Alfonso 1966, Kuno 1973). This construction may be described as follows:

Japanese predicates ending with the indicative inflection (i.e., perfective or imperfective) of verb, adjective or copula may be extended with a noun no, or, more commonly, with its alternant n. The extended form plus a copula is a special kind of predicate, called the ‘extended predicate.’ The extended predicate may occur wherever its corresponding non-extended predicate may occur.

Ray characterizes this use of no as an ‘intra-discourse’ pattern.

because no is sentence-final and there is no case-related or syntactic link between no and any other element within that sentence. Rather, the link exists on the discourse level, such that some information other than that in the A^O-nominalized clause is referred to and explained by or commented on with the information in the no clause.

The “information other than that in the A(0-nominalized clause’’ to which the speaker refers when employing this construction is something that the speaker expects the listener to be able to recover, either from the previous discourse, the immediate context, or perhaps even the following (as yet unspoken) utterance. As both Noda (1981, 1990) and

Ray (1989) have emphasized, the underlying function of no, not only in the EP construction but in all of the its uses as illustrated above, is one of pointing or referring.

In the EP construction, when a speaker uses no, s/he alerts the listener to the fact that s/he is trying to connect some information presently at issue to the immediately preceding discourse or to the larger communicative context.

-^Noda (1981); excerpted from the first page of the abstract. The copula in Japanese is a cover term for the word desu and its many forms, including the gerundde and the distal perfective form desita.

30 1.3.5.4 no de Sis the gerund of the Extended Predicate (EP)

Let us now reconsider example (1-8) in light of the discussion of the previous section regarding the referring function of no.

(1-8) A, soo simasitara, mata ano notihodo kakesasite ah so do-cnd again HES later call-cau-ger

moraimasu n de. get from out-group-ipf EP-ger

‘Oh, in that case, (1)11, um, take the liberty of calling again later, so....’

There are (at least) two possible ways of analyzing the use of n(o) in this utterance. One possibility would be to consider it as an example of the inter-clausal application, and to assume that the matrix clause has been elided. However, it can be extremely difficult to say exactly what a speaker might have intended in the following clause. A second possibility would be to classify n(o) as part of the EP construction, followed by the gerund of the copula. This would constitute an intra-discoursal use of no, through which the speaker seeks to connect or relate what immediately precedes n to the larger discourse context. At the moment in which the speaker uttered (1-8), he had just been told that the person he wished to speak with was unavailable. By using n in his offer to call back, the speaker can refer deictically to that information, which he assumes his addressee to know, and connect the new information in his offer that he will be calling back later to that larger discourse frame. Such deictic reference also signals to the listener that the speaker is sufficiently confident about the information that he can refer to it and thereby present it as non-challengeable, non-problematic information. Stating this more generally, we can say that a speaker who adopts the l-masu n(o) de/ form in an offer of assistance would appear to do so in order to present a grounded assurance (GA hereafter) to the addressee of his/her willingness and intention to perform the given service.

31 In addition, by using a non-finite form—the gerund— to predicate an offer, a speaker can convey a nuance of open-endedness which would not have been present if the speaker had made a declarative assertion with the form n(o) da. In adopting this gerund form, the speaker essentially assumes that the listener will know what to do, and/or will know how to interpret the utterance. This sense can be conveyed to some degree in

English by appending '(and) so....’ to the offer—hence the gloss in (1-8), in which the speaker says, ‘Oh, in that case, (I)’II, um, take the liberty o f calling again later, so.... '

The use of the verbal gerund in the manner just described is not at all unusual in

Japanese; indeed, gerunds are routinely used in order to conclude an utterance when what they clarify or expand upon is judged by the speaker to be accessible information.

Consider, for example, the following segment from a conversation in the Kanto data corpus. The caller, Mr. Kawano of the International Study Center in Saitama Prefecture, has been discussing a possible order he would like to place with Ms. Yamada of the

Tokyo Bookstore. After some deliberation, he indicates that he will go ahead and fax the information to her on an order form. He then cautions her that this does not yet constitute an actual order, and asks if that is acceptable. Ms. Yamada reassures him that yes, it will be fine, and amplifies her acceptance by referring to the form he will send as an

“estimate,” rather than an actual order.

(1-14) Use of the gerund to conclude an utterance which clarifies or amplifies something that is judged by the speaker to be accessible information.

1 A: Zyaa, tyotto tyuumon-syo no syosiki de in that case just order form CN form INST

nagasityaimasu kedo, kore mada, tyuumon zya nai go ahead and send-ipf but this still order be-neg-ipf

32 n desu kedo// daizvoobu desu ne:I EP but ail right CP-ipf SP

‘Well in that case, (I)’ll just go ahead and send (it) along on (an) order form, but it’s that this still isn’t (an) order, but that’s OK, right?’

2 C: A, a desu yo. oh fine CP-ipf SP

‘Oh, that’ll be fine, you know.’

3 C: Ano: omitumori to iu katati de. HES estimate QT say-ipf form CP-ger

‘Um, (it) being in the form of (an) estimate.’

The tentative nature of Mr. Kawano’s order has already been established over the course of their conversation up to this point, and therefore represents information that is accessible to both speakers. As a result, Ms. Yamada can use the gerund form of the copula in line 3C to clarify her acceptance, noting that the fax, “being the form of an estimate,’’ will be fine.

1.3.6 Example from the data incorporating both the l-{mas)(y)oo ka?! and i-masu n(o) del patterns

In order to summarize our discussion, let us now consider an example from the data which incorporates both the !-(mas)(y}oo ka?( and f-masii n(o) del patterns. The following excerpt is actually a continuation of example (1-7), in which a male bank employee has called Kansai Imports and has asked to speak with the general manager.

-^Nagasityaimasu is a contraction of nagasite-simaimasu, the distal form of the pattern /gerund + simaiiL In the present context, this combination implies that the speaker is going to go ahead and send the fax, even though he has not completely made up his mind and/or despite the fact that he is using an actual order form merely to submit an estimate of which books he needs.

33 (1-15) Example incorporating both l-masyoo ka?l and /-masu n(o) del

1 A: Tadaima seki hazusite- ‘masite, modotte- klte- just now seat leave-ger be-ger retum-ger come-ger

inai n desu ga: be-neg-ipf EP but

‘It’s that (she)’s away from her desk right now and hasn’t returned, but...’

2 C: A soo desu ka. Wakarimasita. [pause] oh so CP-ipf Q become clear-pf

‘Oh, is that so. I see.’

3 A: Yorosikereba, kotira no hoo kara, orikaesi: good-prv this CN side from return

odenwa simasyoo ka? telephone call do-ipf-cns Q

‘If (you) like, shall (we/I) call (you) back [from this side]?’

4 C; E:to: sosita:ra: HES in that case

‘Um, in that case,’

5 A: Hai. [pause] ACK

‘Yes.’

6 C: A, dekimasitara, onegai dekimasu desyoo ka. oh be able-cnd request-ipf-pot (i) CP-tent Q

Oh, if possible, could (you) do (that)?’

7 A: Hai, e:to, Inaisi-san. ACK HES Mr. Inaishi

‘Yes, um, Mr. Inaishi.’

8 C: Igarasi to moosimasu. Igarashi QT be called-ipf

‘(I)’m Igarashi.’

34 9 A: A, Igarasi-san. Siimimasen. Situree simasita. oh Mr. Igarashi be sorry-ipf rudeness do-pf

‘Oh, Mr. Igarashi. (I)’m sorry. Excuse me [for what I did].’

10 A: Zyaa, anoo: modorimasitara kotira kara well then HES retum-cnd this side from

gorenraku suru yoo ni itasimasu no de: contact-ipf (i) in order do-ipf (>l) EP-ger

‘Well then, um, (we/I)’11 see to it that (someone) contacts (you) once (she)’s back.’

11 C: A, hai. oh ACK

OK.’

12 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

13 C: Sumimase.n. thank you

‘Thank you.’

14 A: Hai. ACK

‘(You’re welcome.)’

15 C: Yorosiku onegai simasu:. well request-ipf (-1)

‘Please [take care of it for me].’

Looking at this longer stretch of discourse, we see that Ms. Sasaki, the female KI employee, ultimately makes two offers—the second of which is really a restatement of the first. She makes her initial offer in line 3, after telling the caller, Mr. Igarashi, that the manager is away from her desk. Igarashi’s only response to this information had been to

35 indicate that he understood (line 2), so Ms. Sasaki could not know for sure whether he wanted a return phone call. As a result, she uses the consultative l-masyoo ka?i pattern in her offer, leaving open for the moment the possibility that Igarashi might either refuse or indicate that he himself would call back. After Igarashi confirms in lines 4 and 6 that he would indeed like a return call, Ms. Sasaki states his name for verification purposes, and

Igarashi corrects her. In line 10, Ms. Sasaki then rephrases her initial offer, this time presenting it as an assurance that she will see to it that someone in the office (presumably the general manager, but this is not stated explicitly) will contact Igarashi upon the manager’s return. Due to the form i-masu no del, her assurance is grounded in—that is, connected deictically to—the previous discourse frame, which includes the fact that

Igarashi had requested to speak with the manager, the fact that the manager was presently away from her desk, and also the information in Sasaki’s first offer that she would have someone call Igarashi back. Ms. Sasaki’s utterance in line 10 therefore represents more than a mere offer of assistance; through the use of no de it (a) indicates an awareness on

Sasaki’s part of Igarashi’s needs, (b) underscores the connection between the restated offer and the larger discourse frame leading up to that offer, and (c) conveys her willingness and intention to perform this service on his behalf. Finally, by choosing to present her offer in the non-finite i-masu no del form, Ms. Sasaki also displays a degree of deference to her customer by leaving her utterance open-ended. Were Mr. Igarashi to have a problem with her offer, he could easily indicate this in the immediately ensuing utterance. In actuality, however, Mr. Igarashi gratefully accepts Ms. Sasaki’s offer of assistance, and their conversation ends.

1.3.7 Goals of the present study

We have now examined in detail a few contextualized examples of the ways in which callers and call recipients extend offers of a return call in Japanese business

36 transactional telephone conversations. The reader will recall that this represents just one of

the three types of offers which were found to occur most regularly in the data collected for

this study. In addition, numerous offers were observed in which a service provider, in

response to a service-related problem reported by a customer, offered immediate

assistance or indicated that s/he would look into the matter and contact the customer again

later. Examples of these types of offers will be presented and discussed in the remainder of this work, primarily in chapters 5 and 6.

In undertaking this investigation, I have four goals in mind. First and most basically, I seek to determine how the service recipient conveys information regarding the problem to the service provider. Through an examination of the discourse leading up to an offer of assistance, it may be possible to reveal the strategies which service recipients choose in these situations in order to elicit assistance from service providers. For example, do service recipients initially state the problem and follow that report with an account of the details of the transaction, or do they present the problem in a narrative fashion, recounting the events leading up to the problem chronologically? Do they report the details of the transaction in any particular order? To what degree do they explicitly mention the problem itself (e.g., ‘The package never arrived”) and to what degree do they explicitly request assistance? We cannot take these issues for granted nor assume that there is one ‘script’ which speakers will follow in any given situation. As we will see through further examples in the data, the way in which any given interaction will unfold may differ depending upon the particulars of the situation. These particulars include the degree to which the participants know each other, the beliefs and expectations of each participant regarding the problem at various points in the interaction, the relative roles and statuses of the participants, and so forth.

37 The second goal is to describe the function and, if possible, distribution of the

linguistic forms which service providers employ when responding to these reports of

problems. Here I am primarily interested in the two patterns which service providers were

observed to use most frequently when offering assistance—the interrogative form

l-masyoo ka! and the declarative form i-masu no del. To what extent might the choice of

these forms be a function of the mutual expectations of the participants up to and

including that point in time in the conversation? In other words, how might (a) the role

relationship between the participants, that is, service provider and service recipient, and

(b) the relevance of the preceding discourse, be said to motivate the form of an eventual

offer of assistance?

My third goal in this investigation relates to the second, and that is to ascertain

how these strategies of reporting problems and of offering assistance might be related to

(a) the type of genre in which the exchanges appear, namely business transactional

telephone conversations, and (b) larger cultural norms and values. My hypothesis is that

the expectations that participants bring to these encounters are shaped by roles (such as

service provider and service recipient) which are established in and definitive of the genre,

and that this will have a strong influence on the linguistic means employed by the

participants. Part of the study will therefore be devoted to a description of the genre of

business transactional telephone conversations—in particular, the structural and register

features of such calls. Regarding the cultural component, as Hymes (1962, 1972, 1974),

Gumperz (1982a, b) and others have pointed out, every speech community has certain

socially preferred ‘ways of speaking,’ and it is likely that the structure of these conversations, as well as the strategies adopted by speakers in the reporting of problems

and the offering of assistance, will reflect these larger cultural norms. Therefore, before

we may even consider an analysis of the data, we must first examine in detail some

38 potentially relevant socially preferred ‘ways of speaking’ in Japan. These will be

discussed in Chapter 4.

Finally, the fourth goal is to present and analyze these interactions as potential

resources for teachers of Japanese so that they might provide more appropriate models for

their students of the conversational moves that native speakers use to report problems and

seek assistance in business transactional conversations. Implicit in this analysis is the

assumption that these moves might differ from those typically employed in a similar genre

in the learner’s own speech community, and moreover that by undertaking more situated

(and perhaps comparative) studies, we might prepare our students to become more

culturally sensitive to the nuances of Japanese conversation. Language textbooks, perhaps

due to space limitations, often provide conversational exemplars that appear to be

abstracted from natural encounters; features such as back-channel, hesitation markers, and

the use of minor sentences and fragments may be omitted in favor of fully-formed,

grammatical sentences. However, as the transcripts of actual conversations presented in this study will demonstrate,-® such features are essential to successful interactions, for they represent important parameters in the mutually orchestrated dance between speaker and hearer. If a non-native speaker who is unfamiliar with the moves, tempo, and character of the dance attempts a performance with a native speaker, the result can often be clumsy and ill-conceived. This study is therefore an attempt to better identify these elements in one particular genre of interaction.

1.4 Summary of remaining chapters

In order to provide a maximally informed, “thick description” (Geertz 1973) of the data in this investigation, it will first be necessary to lay the proper groundwork.

-®As well as examples presented in studies such as Clancy (1982), N. Mizuiani (1983), Ikuta (1988), Maynard (1989), Yamada (1992), Szatrowski (1993), and Kashiwazaki (1993).

39 Therefore a substantial portion of this thesis will be given over to the following: an

extensive review of perspectives on data elicitation and analysis, as well as a summary

and critique of recent studies of offers in English and Japanese (Chapter 2); a presentation

of the methodology used to collect the data for this study and a discussion of some

definitions of genre, style, and register which have been proposed by various researchers

(Chapter 3); and a detailed consideration of the Japanese cultural and sociolinguistic

factors which I will argue play a role in the reporting of problems and offering of

assistance in Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (Chapter 4).

Once this groundwork has been established. Chapter 5 goes on to describe the

nature of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations in terms of their overall

structure and register features, based on numerous excerpts from the data corpus. Chapter

6 presents two complete conversations from the data, and analyzes the ways in which

service recipients report problems and service providers offer assistance in their

resolution. Chapter 7 discusses the pedagogical implications of the findings in this study,

and also presents and evaluates two sample conversations from textbooks currently available on the market. Chapter 8 presents the conclusions for the study and suggests possible areas for future research.

40 CHAPTER 2

REVIEW OF PERSPECTIVES ON DATA ELICITATION AND ANALYSIS

2.1 Introduction

We have seen in the previous chapter that in the Japanese business transactional telephone conversations collected for this study, the offers which service providers extended to service recipients were of three particular types: (a) offers to have a particular person return a phone call; (b) offers to look into a service problem and (in some cases) call back; and (c) offers to remedy service problems ‘on the spot.’ It was also noted that service providers regularly adopted two particular forms in offering assistance to their clients; these were the consultative form l-masyoo ka?! and the declarative statement of grounded assurance, /-masu no del.

These forms were judged to be offers because they appeared in contexts in which a service provider either implicitly or explicitly committed him/herself to satisfying the perceived or explicitly expressed needs of a service recipient, either by agreeing to do so or by volunteering to do so. Our evaluation of these forms could not be based merely upon an examination of the utterance or utterances through which the service provider actually indicated s/he would assist the service recipient. Rather, it was also necessary to consider the prior discourse, in order to ascertain the degree to which the service recipient had made his/her needs known, as well as the subsequent discourse, in order to evaluate the service recipient’s response. The fact that the data corpora consisted of complete.

41 authentic, tape-recorded conversations as opposed to isolated, decontextualized utterances

eased the evaluation process considerably.

While the working definition just described was developed for the present

investigation, as a point of comparison it will be useful to consider some of the other

ways in which the social action of offering has been defined, studied and analyzed.

Studies of offers in both English and Japanese are limited in number, but those that have

been conducted rely upon elicitation techniques which evolved from speech act theory and

conversation analysis. The present investigation differs from those studies in that it does

not adopt either theoretical perspective, but it does acknowledge several important

contributions of each which help to better illuminate the data we are considering here. For

example, Searle’s discussion of felicity conditions on social actions such as promises can

help us to better understand the ways in which speaker beliefs and intentions Influence the

social action of offering. In addition, the seminal works of Sacks, Schegloff, and

Jefferson on the sequential organization of conversation, including the notions of

adjacency pairs, preference organization, and insertion sequences, paved the way for the

identification of certain discourse actions such as openings and closings in conversations, as well as actions within sequences, such as announcements, requests and offers. These are all of central importance to our discussion.

But in addition to the significant contributions of speech act theory, conversation analysis, and the related studies on offers, each has its own weaknesses as well. This chapter will therefore summarize and critique various methodological and analytical techniques: Section 2.2 reviews recent methods for data elicitation, and Section 2.3 compares the goals of certain recent studies with their methodologies, pointing out that techniques such as Discourse Completion Tests (DCTs) and Multiple Choice

Questionnaires (MCQs) are inappropriate if the research goal is to obtain samples of

42 situated language use. Section 2.4 discusses the speech act literature, in particular that of

Austin and Searle. This section also includes a comparison of the felicity conditions on

requests, offers and promises, because it is argued that these three social actions share

certain family resemblances. Section 2.5 identifies studies of speech acts that have been

conducted in English, Japanese and other languages. Section 2.6 summarizes and

critiques the contributions of conversation analysis, while Section 2.7 examines a new

theory of speech acts called Dynamic Speech Act Theory (DSAT) which has been

proposed in Geis (1995). Section 2.8 presents the approach which will be adopted in the present work, namely an analysis incorporating the notion of speech genres and contextualization cues. Finally, Section 2.9 summarizes previous studies of offers in

Japanese and English. Whenever appropriate throughout the chapter, examples from the data corpora for this study are provided in order to illustrate the strengths and weaknesses of the various elicitation techniques and analyses.

2.2 Recent methods for data elicitation

In order to effectively develop pedagogical models of the ways in which language is used on particular occasions in particular contexts, it is essential that researchers conduct empirical studies in which samples of naturally occurring language are collected, and information pertaining to contextual variables such as relative status and roles of speaker and addressee, age, and the like are duly noted. But as Labov (1972:184) has argued:

There is a great deal to be done in describing and analysing the patterns of use of languages and dialects within specific cultures; the forms of ‘speech events’; the rules for appropriate selection of speakers; the interrelations of speaker, addressee, audience, topic, channel, and setting; and the ways in which the speakers draw upon the resources of their language to perform certain functions.

43 Until recently much research in the fields of cross-cultural pragmatics and sociolinguistics

has relied upon strictly invented examples or data elicited through Discourse Completion

Tests (DCTs), multiple choice questionnaires (MCQs), rating scales, experimental

procedures, interview procedures, or role-plays.' Indeed, in perhaps the largest cross-

cultural study on speech acts conducted to date—the Cross Cultural Speech Act

Realization Project (CCS ARP), which examined requests and apologies made by both native and non-native speakers in a range of 10 to 14 varieties of primarily West European languages—Blum-Kulka et al. based their conclusions upon data collected through DCT questionnaires.'

The authors of the CCS ARP, in their Introductory Overview to the study, characterize their perspective as follows:

The view adopted here with regard to speech act theory follows Bierwisch (1980) in anchoring the study of speech acts strongly in the area of linguistic communication. We contend that there is a strong need to complement theoretical studies of speech acts, based primarily on intuited data of isolated utterances, with empirical studies, based on speech acts produced by native speakers in context. It is only through the study o f situated speech that we can hope to construe a theory interconnecting communicative functions with the contexts in which they are embedded. (Blum-Kulka et al.:3)

Yet despite the authors’ apparent support for empirical, situated studies, the CCS ARP relies on data from DCTs, which are not entirely “situated” in naturally occurring contexts.

'Examples of studies using these various elicitation procedures are as follows: DCTs (Blum-Kulka 1982: Blum-Kulka and Olshtain 1984, 1986; Hill et al. 1986; Takahashi and Beebe 1987; Blum-Kulka and Levenston 1987; and Beebe et al. 1990, among others); rating scales (Olshtain and Blum-Kulka 1985); interviews (Cohen and Olshtain 1981; Iwai and Yamada 1993); role plays (Cohen and Olshtain 1981; Iwai and Yamada 1994). See Iwai and Yamada (1994) for a summary and critique of some o f these procedures and the studies which have adopted them. 'The languages surveyed included Australian, American, and British English, Canadian French, Danish, German, Hebrew, and Russian. For detailed descriptions of this project, see Blum-Kulka and Olshtain ( 1984) and Blum-Kulka et al. (1989).

44 Much of the reliance upon questionnaires and similar elicitation procedures of course derives from the relative ease with which data may be collected in this fashion, and the (deceptive) readiness with which answers on questionnaires may be compared for statistical analysis. One alleged virtue of this methodology is that questionnaires can be useful for the “testing of specific hypotheses, comparison of specific populations, easing of analysis and administration, and contextual control” (Rose and Ono 1995:192). In addition. Rose (1992b:52), citing Wolfson et al. (1989), points out that such questionnaires may also “be used to gather large amounts of data quickly, create initial classifications of formulas and strategies that may occur in natural speech, corroborate results of ethnographic studies, and reveal unexpected variables.” Blum-Kulka et al.

(1989:13) further note, in defense of their methodology, that

...in CCS ARP we were interested in getting a large sample, in seven countries, of two specific speech acts used in the same contexts. This would have been virtually impossible under field conditions. Moreover, we wished to compare speech acts not only cross-culturally, but also within the same language, as produced by native and nonnative speakers. These demands for comparability have ruled out the use of ethnographic methods, invaluable as they are in general for gaining insights into speech behavior.

Hill et al. (1986:353) have also defended the use of questionnaires, arguing that

“the virtue of authenticity in naturally occurring speech must be weighed against its reflection of speakers’ sociolinguistic adaptations to very specific situations.”

Questionnaires, they note, tend to elicit more “stereotypical” responses, which Hill et al. claim represent “the prototype of the variants occurring in the individual’s actual speech"

(1986:353; emphasis mine). Blum-Kulka et al. see this as an advantage for their own methodology, claiming that “It is precisely this more stereotyped aspect of speech behavior that weneed for cross-cultural comparability” (1989:13; emphasis mine).

45 2.3 Goals versus methodology

These remarks raise several critical questions about goals and methodology. First,

if we are endeavoring, through research, to assess the “actual speech” behavior of

members of various linguistic communities, including that of learners, can we realistically depend upon data elicitation techniques that merely produce “stereotypical” patterns? As

Rose (1992a, 1992b, 1994), Rose and Ono (1995), Kasper and Dahl (1991) and others have argued, questionnaires may not in fact be a valid measure for accurately assessing what native speakers actually “do with words,” to borrow Austin’s (1962) phrase. More likely, such questionnaires reflect what speakers “say they do with words.”^

Most, if not all of these studies follow the lead of the speech act literature, specifically the practice of Austin (1962) and Searle (1969, 1975, 1979) of relying upon invented examples of single sentences that are usually examined in complete isolation from larger discourse contexts. Searle himself stated that ‘the characteristic grammatical form of the illocutionary act is the complete sentence” (1969:25). As we have seen, the difference in the newer studies is that they employ attested examples from native speakers, albeit those elicited through instruments such as DCTs and MCQs (which are similarly based on reflective intuition). A major defect is that these DCTs and MCQs elicit reflection too, which is usually not part of live interaction choices.

Given that so many studies seem to have relied upon the intuitions and perceptions of native and non-native speakers, perhaps it would be wise at this juncture to consider this issue for a moment. Chomsky (1957:13ff, 49-50) was the first to argue that native speaker intuitions in regard to jynmcftc judgments can serve as a fairly reliable test of the adequacy of a proposed grammar for a given language. Moreover, Chomsky (1957:96-7) claimed that minimal pair tests can be used with nadve informants in order to determine

^See also Holmes (1991) and Rowerdew ( 1990) for critiques of the CCS ARP project.

46 whether or not two words are phonemically distinct, and that such tests provide “a clear operational criterion for phonemic distinctness in completely non-semantic terms.’”*

Finally, semanticians routinely employ entailment judgments in doing semantic research.

However, native (and non-native) speaker intuitions involving sociolinguistic and pragmatic ]\xdgm&nxs have been shown to be highly inaccurate (Labov 1966; Blom and

Gumperz 1972; Brouwer, Gerritsen, and De Haan 1979; Wolfson, D’Amico-Reisner, and Huber 1983; Wolfson, Marmor, and Jones 1989). Wolfson et al. (1989) underscore the fact that in the sociolinguistic literature, native speakers’ perceptions have been shown to vary markedly from their actual speech behavior. This has been demonstrated in two ways; first, “when native speakers are asked to report what they or others would say in a given speech situation, their responses are often very different from the speech behavior which is actually observed,’’ and second, “native speakers have been shown to be unaware that there is a difference between their perceived speech behavior and their actual speech production” (Wolfson et al. 1989:181). This is probably due in no small part to the fact that it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to completely specify all of the features of the context of a particular situation^ when asking speakers how they might behave (i.e., what they might say) in that situation. The format of questionnaires only exacerbates the problem, since it tends to elicit “short, decontextualized written segments” rather than the “longer routines typical of actual interaction” (Wolfson et al. 1989:182-3).^

Another problem that deserves mention here is the fact that DCTs and MCQs have been employed in both intracultural and cross-cultural studies. Many of the cross-cultural

^It can be argued, however, that if an informant says that two words are “different,” this would indicate a semantic judgment on his/her part. ’For one theory regarding the aspects of the ‘Context of Situation,’ see Haiiiday and Hasan (1976, 1985), Halliday (1978), as well as the seminal work on this topic, Malinowski (1923). ''See Iwai and Yamada (1994) for a discussion of an elicitation procedure called the Situational Written Response Test (SWRT), which is an adaptation of the DCT that seeks to elicit longer written responses “without any restrictions concerning the context of the situations.” Some respondents reportedly even “opted out” of certain situations.

47 studies seek to ascertain the degree of communicative and/or pragmatic competence of non-native speakers. Iwai and Yamada (1994:44) found that in the data they collected through a written elicitation procedure (the SWRT) and an oral procedure (role plays) that

“both native and non-native speakers responded differently to the two different data collection procedures.” It is unclear whether these differences could have been attributed to the written vs. oral nature of the instruments themselves, rather than to native vs. non native competence and/or performance. It would seem that a speaker’s perception of what he or she does or knows could differ from actual behavior, regardless of whether or not s/he is a native speaker. The authors conclude that “researchers should select appropriate procedures according to whom they are collecting data from and why they are examining their speech acts” (1994:45). This issue clearly warrants further investigation.

This brings us to a second question that arises from the remarks of Blum-Kulka et al. and Hill et al. which were cited above. The authors of the CCS ARP claim that they are interested in comparing stereotypical speech behavior across cultures, but to what end?

Their stated “general goal” is “to establish patterns of request and apology realizations under different social constraints across a number of languages and cultures, including both native and nonnative varieties” ( 1989:12). If those patterns do not stem from situated language-in-use—in the words of Hill et al., if they do not reflect “speakers’ sociolinguistic adaptations to very specific situations,” then they are necessarily of limited value, for as we argued in Chapter 1, language means what it means in context. For pedagogical purposes, at least, the use of such data samples would appear to be insufficient at best, and at worst, misleading.

A third methodological problem is the validity of using the same, or even modified, DCT instrument in cross-cultural investigations. As Olshtain (1989:171) admitted in regard to the data on apologies collected in the CCS ARP, “culture-specific

48 tendencies may be an artifact of [the] data collection instrument.” Olshtain also pointed out

that “we need to develop a better means of collecting mfracultural data” (emphasis mine).

Wolfson (1986) has suggested that researchers in cross-cultural pragmatics might take a

“two-pronged approach” that includes both elicitation and observation.

Since the present investigation is not intended to be cross-cultural in nature but

rather aims to describe some of the ways in which offers of assistance are made in

Japanese, the decision was made to obtain, through an ethnographic approach, as much

naturally occurring speech as possible in order to ascertain how native speakers actually

behave in certain contexts. Based on this data, it is hoped that we might provide

numerous models of this behavior to students, and through guided practice, help them to

develop useful intuitions as to what might be culturally appropriate behavior in these

contexts. This is not a matter of encouraging students to merely “plug in” a certain set

phrase in a given context; rather, we are proposing to observe, analyze, and then model

for students the range of native speaker behaviors that actually occur in specific, localized

discourse contexts.’

2.4 A review of speech act theory

As was suggested in section 2.3, many of the recent studies employing DCTs,

MCQs and similar data elicitation techniques evolved from speech act theory. Moreover, despite the fact that the methods employed for data elicitation differ in the present study,

many of the points raised in Austin’s and Searle’s writings can be applied to our analysis of offers. Let us therefore turn now to a review of Austin and Searle’s contributions.

Section 2.4.1 presents a summary of Austin; section 2.4.2 presents a summary of Searle.

Section 2.4.3 takes a closer look at the accounts of Austin and Searle in regard to

’Or to put it another way, we should model the contextual parameters that help to determine the choices which native speakers make in those specific, localized discourse contexts.

49 requests, promises and offers— a group of speech acts which share certain family resemblances based on their felicity conditions. Since Searle did not include a set of felicity conditions for offers, I propose one here. The relevance of Austin’s and Searle’s work to the present study is also discussed in this section. Section 2.4.4 highlights several problems with speech act theoretic accounts, and section 2.4.5 concludes with a discussion of the contributions of speech act theory to present-day investigations.

2.4.1 Austin

Speech act theory has its origins in the writings of Austin (1962) and Searle

( 1969, 1976, 1979). In a series of lectures published posthumously and entitled How to

Do Things with Words, Austin noted that when we utter certain declarative statements, we are actually doing something in addition to just saying something. Examples of such

“performative” utterances are

(2-1 ) Performative utterances

(a) T do [accept thee as my lawfully wedded wife...].’ (uttered in a marriage ceremony)

(b) T hereby christen this ship theQueen Mary.' (uttered while hitting a bottle against the hull of a ship)

Austin contrasted these performative utterances, which commonly perform the act named by the verb, with the class of constatives—that is, utterances such as statements and assertions for which it is possible to determine values of truth or falsity. However, what is at issue for the successful use of performatives, Austin argued, is the appropriateness or “felicity” of certain aspects of the circumstances or context in which performatives are uttered. In this regard, Austin proposed three main types of “felicity conditions” ( 1962:14-15):

50 (2-2) Austin’s felicity conditions

(A. I ) There must exist an accepted conventional procedure having a certain conventional effect, that procedure to include the uttering of certain words by certain persons in certain circumstances, and further,

(A.2) the particular persons and circumstances in a given case must be appropriate for the invocation of the particular procedure invoked.

(B. 1 ) The procedure must be executed by all participants both correctly and

(B.2) completely.

(C. 1 ) Where, as often, the procedure is designed for use by persons having certain thoughts or feelings, or for the inauguration of certain consequentid conduct on the part of any participant, then a person participating in and so invoking the procedure must in fact have those thoughts or feelings, and the participants must intend so to conduct themselves, and further

(C.2) must actually so conduct themselves subsequently.

Many of the details of Austin’s felicity conditions are significant for the present study because they highlight the importance of examining situated discourse as uttered by particular speakers. For example, in (A. 1), Austin refers to the connection between an utterance and its context; he later underscores this connection when he concludes that

“The total speech act in the total speech situation is theonly actual phenomenon which, in the last resort, we are engaged in elucidating” (1962:147). Furthermore, Austin emphasizes the importance of situational appropriateness in felicity condition (A.2), the need to consider the contributions of all participants and not just those of the speaker in

(B.1-2), and the significance of intention in any given act in (C.l).

Austin also noted that some or all of the felicity conditions apply to both verbal and non-verbal conventional acts; that is, infelicity is an issue of importance to all ritual acts. He proposed betting or the conveyance of property as examples of conventional acts which may be performed non-verbally (1962:18-19).

51 Any violation of these conditions can cause the utterance to “misfire,” be

“unhappy,” or be “infelicitous.” For example, if there is no procedure in a particular culture whereby the uttering of “I do” counts as part of a wedding ceremony, or if the persons involved in the ceremony are already married, then according to the conditions of type (A), the performative would not achieve the result normally intended, that is, the union of two people in marriage. Likewise for (B), if either member of the couple or the priest refuses to utter the correct words, or if one of the principals must leave the ceremony before it is complete, the ceremony is also invalid. Therefore Austin calls violations of types A and B “misfires.”

In the case of the (C) conditions, however, while the ceremony of marriage can actually be performed successfully, it is not performed in good faith. For example, if one member of the couple declares, “I do,” but has no intention of maintaining his or her vows, then an “abuse” of the ceremony has occurred.

Austin made a further distinction between explicit performatives (e.g., T bet,” or

“I promise,”) on the one hand, and implicit or primitive performatives (e.g., T’ll be there’ as a promise) on the other. In cases of the latter, it may not be clear to the listener(s) what act the doer intends to perform (e.g., promise, reassurance, or the like).*

In order to clarify his arguments, Austin proposed that in using language, we are in fact performing (at least) three types of acts. First, in merely uttering the words of a sentence with a “certain sense and reference” (1962:108), for example, “Shut the door!”, we are performing a locutionary act. Second, we also convey the conventional force of the utterance, and in so doing perform an illocutionary act (e.g., urging, ordering, advising someone to shut the door). Finally, Austin noted that a speaker’s performing an

"Levinson (1983:231) has pointed out that Austin’s “explicit performatives” are actually the originally proposed “performative” class in disguise, while the class of “implicit performatives” subsumes most, if not all, other utterances.

52 illocutionary act will have consequences. He referred to the acts we perform as a result of saying something a “perlocutionary act,”— in this case, getting someone to close the door, or perhaps angering that person by ordering them to do so. Yet as Geis has pointed out, we have no control over the consequences of performing illocutionary acts, so it is strange to speak of a person performing ‘the act of causing another to be angry,’ or the like. Geis argues that these two subgroups of perlocutionary acts can be alternatively classified as “transactional” and “interactional” effects. Transactional effects pertain more closely to the consequences of the act in terms of its goal, whereas interactional effects relate to issues such as face (in the sense of Brown and Levinson 1987) and politeness.

Geis therefore suggests that rather than referring to the perlocutionary act a speaker performs in undertaking a given illocutionary act, we instead speak of the ‘intended transactional effect’ and the ‘intended interactional effect’ (1995:3).

Within the class of illocutionary acts, Austin proposed a taxonomy based on the illocutionary force of the performative verbs used in those acts. His taxonomy is as follows:

(2-3) Austin’s taxonomy

(1) Verdictives, which deliver a verdict or finding (either official or unofficial) in a judicial act (for example, through the verbs acquit, convict, or rule);

(2) Exercitives, which give or advocate a decision for or against a particular course of action (for example, through the verbs appoint, offer, or annul);

(3) Commissives, which commit the speaker to a particular course of action (for example, through the verbs promise, intend, or propose to);

(4) Behabitives, which convey feelings and beliefs (for example, through the verbs apologize, thank, or congratulate); and

53 (5) Expositives, which express views, conduct arguments, or clarify usage and reference (for example, through the verbs affirm, inform, or accept)

I will discuss these in relation to particular speech acts in section 2.4.3 below.

2.4.2 Searle

Searle (1969, 1975, 1976, 1979) criticized Austin’s taxonomy, primarily because

“there is no clear or consistent principle or set of principles on the basis of which the taxonomy is constructed” with the exception of commissives, which are classified according to their illocutionary point (1979:10). He further argued that

there is a persistent confusion between verbs and acts, not all the verbs are illocutionary verbs, there is too much overlap of the categories, too much heterogeneity within the categories, [and] many of the verbs listed in the categories don’t satisfy the definition given for the category (1979:11-12).

Nevertheless, Searle claimed that the study of speech acts, or more specifically, illocutionary acts, was both interesting and important, arguing that “the illocutionary act is the minimal unit of communication” (1971:615). He contrasted this view with others in which it has “generally been supposed” that the basic unit is “the symbol or word or sentence, or even the token of the symbol or word or sentence” (1971:615).

In proposing his own theory of speech acts, Searle distinguished two types of rules, regulative and constitutive.’ “Regulative rules [for example, the rules of etiquette for interpersonal relationships] regulate a pre-existing activity, an activity whose existence is logically independent of the existence of the rules. Constitutive rules [for example, the rules of football] constitute (and also regulate) an activity the existence of which is logically dependent on the rules” (Searle 1971:617).

‘’Searle based this distinction on that proposed by Rawls (1955).

54 Searle’s hypothesis was that “the semantics of a language can be regarded as a

series of systems of constitutive rules and that illocutionary acts are acts performed in

accordance with these sets of constitutive rules” (Ibid.). He then presented his system of

constitutive rules in the form of a set of necessary conditions, the conjunction of which,

when the rules are satisfied, provides the sufficient conditions for the felicitous

performance of a particular illocutionary act. Therefore, as Searle takes great pains to

point out (1979:9), his taxonomy classifies illocutionary acts according to their

illocutionary point, as opposed to Austin’s taxonomy, which Searle claims classifies

illocutionary verbs. Thus, Searle’s conditions apply to all illocutionary acts, whereas

Austin’s appear to have been intended for a restricted class of performatives only.

Let us now take a look a Searle’s overall system of felicity conditions. Since

Searle did not propose a series of these conditions for offers (I present my own set later in

section 2.4.3.3), we may instead examine his conditions on promises, because promises

are the one speech act which Searle discussed whose characteristics come closest to those

of offers. Moreover, as was noted in Chapter 1, in many of the conversations examined

for this study, service providers often expressed their willingness and intention to assist service recipients through a statement of grounded assurance (the pattern l-masu no del), an utterance which exhibits characteristics of both offers and promises.

The overall system then, in reference to promises, begins with the following assumption:

Given that a speaker S utters a sentence T in the presence of a hearer H, then, in the literal utterance of T, S sincerely and non-defectively (promises) that pto H if and only if the following conditions obtain:

( 1 ) Normal input and output conditions obtain.

"Searle (1969:57f0. The numbers appearing alongside the conditions correspond to those in the original.

55 Searle (1969:57) defines “input” as the “conditions for understanding,” and “output” as those for intelligible speaking.” His point here is that the participants are assumed to be versed in the language being spoken, have no physical handicaps that would impede communication, and not be undertaking any “parasitic forms of communication such as telling jokes or acting in a play.”

Next, Searle introduces his felicity conditions, which are of four types: a prepositional content condition, two preparatory conditions, a sincerity condition, and an essential condition. He states his prepositional content condition in two parts, as follows

(in this example, for promises):

(2-4) Prepositional content condition on promises

(2) S [speaker] expresses the proposition that p in the utterance of T.

(3) In expressing that p, S predicates a future act A of S.

According to Searle, separating the actual proposition from the rest of the speech act in the first part of the prepositional content condition makes it possible to focus on the specific nature of promising, requesting, and so forth as types of illocutionary acts for the remainder of the analysis. The second part of the condition focuses on the future nature of the act being promised, and further that it is the speaker who will undertake this act.

Searle’s preparatory conditions for promises are as follows:

(2-5) Preparatory conditions on promises

(4) H would prefer 5’s doing A to his not doing A, and S believes H would prefer his doing A to his not doing A.

(5) It is not obvious to both S and H that S will do A in the normal course of events.

56 The first of these two conditions emphasizes that there has already been a need expressed by the hearer, as well as a desire on the part of the hearer that the speaker meet that need by making a promise. Moreover, the condition indicates that the speaker is aware of that need and desire and feels that undertaking the promise would be beneficial to the hearer.

As we will see later, it is this condition which isolates one of the primary differences between promises and offers. The second of the two preparatory conditions is generally applicable to most illocutionary acts, including offers; it indicates that there is a point to the action being undertaken, in other words, that it is not a gratuitous or redundant action.

Searle follows his preparatory conditions for promises with a sincerity condition, which indicates that the speaker actually plans to undertake the promised action and is not being insincere:

(2-6) Sincerity condition on promises

(6) S intends to do A.

Finally, Searle proposes an essential condition, which attempts to isolate the goal or the intended effect of the interaction. In the case of promises, this condition is as follows:

(2-7) Essential condition on promises

(7) S intends that the utterance of T will place him under an obligation to do A.

Without such an intention, Searle claims, speakers could argue that their utterances are actually not promises, and that they are therefore not under any consequent obligation to their hearers. Another way of putting this is that the utterance “counts” as an undertaking by the speaker of an obligation to the hearer.

57 After presenting these felicity conditions, Searle proposes his own taxonomy of illocutionary acts, with the distinctions among classes being based on their illocutionary point. The following classes summarize a lengthier discussion in Searle (1979:12ff):

(2-8) Searle’s taxonomy of illocutionary acts

( 1 ) Assertives, the illocutionary point of which “is to commit the speaker (in varying degrees) to something’s being the case, to the truth of the expressed proposition;

(2) Directives, the illocutionary point of which “consists in the fact that they are attempts (of varying degrees, and hence, more precisely, they are determinates of the determinable which includes attempting) by the speaker to get the hearer to do something;

(3) Commissives, the illocutionary point of which “is to commit the speaker (again in varying degrees) to some future course of action;’’" '

(4) Expressives, the illocutionary point of which “is to express the psychological state specified in the sincerity condition about a state of affairs specified in the prepositional content;’’

(5) Declarations, which are characterized by the fact that “the successful performance of one of [the] members [of this class] brings about the correspondence between the prepositional content and reality, [in other words,] successful performance guarantees that the prepositional content corresponds to the world.”

2.4.3 Requests, promises, and offers

Next, I will briefly summarize and critique the accounts of Austin (where applicable) and Searle in regard to requests, promises, and offers. My decision to examine requests and promises in addition to offers stems from the fact that ( 1 ) promises and offers are similar. In fact, I will argue that many offers are essentially consultative promises; (2) promises are usually responses to explicit requests or orders; and (3) offers

"This is the one class of acts which Searle maintains in its entirety from Austin’s taxonomy, including its definition. However, note that offers are a member of Searle’s class of commissives, while Austin places them in his class o f “exercitives,” a point taken up below.

58 respond to perceived needs and desires, which may sometimes, but not always, be expressed through explicit requests. I will supplement the discussion with examples from the data corpus for this study.

2.4.3.1 Requests

First, requests. Austin does not discuss requests in relation to his taxonomy, although Searle (1979:8) notes that had they been included, they would clearly belong in his class of exercitives, that is, actions in which there is “a giving of a decision in favour of or against a certain course of action, or advocacy of it” (Austin 1962:154; this class is discussed in more detail below). As for Searle’s account, his felicity conditions on requests are as follows:

(2-9) Searle’s felicity conditions on requests

Prepositional content condition: Future act A of H.

Preparatory condition: ( 1 ) H 'ls able to do A. S believes that H can do A.

(2) It is not obvious to both S and H thatH would do A without being asked.

Sincerity condition: S wants H to do A.

Essential condition: Counts as an attempt to get H to do A.

2.4.3.2 Prom ises

Next, let us consider promises. Austin classifies the related actions of “promise,”

“declare my intention,” “undertake,” and “give my word” as commissives, and argues that “the whole point” of commissives “is to commit the speaker to a certain course of action” (156).

59 Searle (1969) also classifies promises as commissives, and treats them in great detail in his third chapter. I have already discussed his felicity conditions in regard to promises in passing above, but for the purpose of comparison with his account of requests, let us restate those conditions here. A slightly abbreviated version of these conditions on promises appears in Searle (1975:71).

(2-10) Felicity conditions on promises

Prepositional content condition: Future act A of S.

Preparatory condition: ( 1 ) 5 is able to do A. H believes that S can do A, and S believes that H wants him to do A.

(2) It is not obvious to both S and H thatS would do A without being asked.

Sincerity condition: H wants S to do A, and S intends to do A.

Essential condition: Counts as the undertaking of an obligation by S to do A.

Looking at Searle’s felicity conditions for requests and promises, we see that the two actions are in fact mirror images of each other. First, as stated in the prepositional content conditions, requests predicate a future act of the hearer, while promises predicate a future act of the speaker. Next, according to the preparatory conditions, requests involve the hearer’s ability to perform an action, as well as the speaker’s belief that the hearer can undertake that action, whereas promises involve the speaker’s ability to perform an action and the hearer’s belief to that effect. Third, the sincerity conditions indicate that for requests, it is the speaker who wants the hearer to undertake an action, while for promises, it is the hearer who wants the speaker to perform an action, and furthermore, it is the speaker who intends to perform that action. Finally, the essential conditions point out that requests count as attempts by the speaker to get the hearer to

60 undertake an action, whereas promises count as the undertaking of an obligation by the

speaker to perform an action.

The fact that these two social actions appear to be mirror images of each other is

not surprising given that promises are often issued in response to requests. Requests are

one way in which a speaker can make his/her needs known to the addressee; in response,

the listener can promise to address those needs. It is important to note in this regard that

Searle’s first preparatory condition on promises specifies that the speaker must believe that the hearerwants him/her to do the action under discussion. If this belief is based

upon a previous explicit expression of needs and wants (as through a request), there should be no question as to the classification of an utterance as a promise, at least in

Searlian terms (presuming that the other felicity conditions are satisfied as well).

Let us then consider these conditions with respect to an example in Japanese from the Kanto data corpus which appears in Appendix G. In this conversation, a male caller from an educational association calls Tokyo Bookstore to inquire about a recent shipment they received. The caller explains that among the contents of the package were some books that were mistakenly sent. More specifically, he notes that they had ordered the kanji/kana (mixed Japanese script) edition of volume 2 of the main textbook. New Basic

Japanese. However, of the fourteen books they received, two were the romanized edition instead. The call recipient (Ms. Yamada of the Sales Department) apologizes but does not volunteer any assistance, so in line 51 the caller asks that they be allowed to exchange the books:

(2-11) Request for assistance, excerpted from conversation in Appendix G

51 C: maa, kookan: u: site// itadakitai well exchange HES do-ger receive from out-grp-ipf-des(i)

61 n desii keredoMO: EP but

‘well, it’s that (I/we)’d like to have (you) exchange it, but....’

Ms. Yamada immediately reassures him that they will do so, saying:

(2-12) Statement of grounded assurance, from conversation in Appendix G

52 A: Hai, sugu sasite- itadakima//su no DE: yes immediately do-cau-ger receive from out-grp-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Yes, (I/we)’ll (take the liberty of doing so) immediately, so....’

It was noted in Chapter 1 that the combination of a verbal gerund with a verbal of giving such as ageru indicates the performing of an activity for another’s benefit (e.g.

Katte-agemasyoo ka? ‘Shall I buy it for you?’). The parallel combination of a verbal gerund with a verbal of receiving, i.e. the plain morau or humble polite itadaku, indicates the “receiving the benefit of an activity performed in one’s behalf’ (Jorden with Noda

1988:126). When the latter combination includes the humble polite itadaku, it indexes the speaker’s immediate uti (in-group). Therefore in example (2-11), the referent of site- itadakitai could be the speaker himself, the educational association he represents as a whole, or even one individual in that organization other than himself (hence the “I/we”

English gloss).'* Likewise, when Ms. Yamada responds using sasite-itadakimasu, the referent could be herself alone, the Tokyo Bookstore as a whole, or even a different person in the Sales Department who normally handles exchanges. Generally speaking in both cases, however, the situation of the moment involves a representative of one company speaking on behalf of his/her larger organization (the uti), and addressing a

'“The reader will note in the text to this conversation which appears in Appendix G that the caller did not identify himself by his own name, but rather introduced himself as "The ABC Educational Association.”

6 2 representative of another group or organization (the out-group, or soto). The deictic anchor point for these speakers is therefore not the Ego or self, but rather the uti, and as

Wetzel (1994) has pointed out, the boundaries of one’s uti in Japan are constantly shifting as one participates as a member of various groups.

Therefore when try to apply Searle’s felicity conditions to these utterances, we immediately encounter a problem because the conditions are based on the Indo-European notion of person. The prepositional content condition on promises, for example, predicates a future act of the speaker, yet it is difficult to say for sure whether Ms.

Yamada is vouching for herself alone when she responds to the caller’s request by saying

Sugu sasite-itadakimasu no de.... Likewise, the preparatory conditions involve stipulations about the abilities and beliefs of the speaker and hearer, but given the collective nature of uti/soto deixis, it is difficult to judge whether or not these conditions are in fact satisfied.

If we were to try to characterize the conversation in terms of these conditions, we might argue that the caller has clearly identified the nature and extent of the problem, and has also explicitly indicated how he would like the problem resolved—that is, to have Ms.

Yamada or someone from her company take care of the exchange. As a result, Ms.

Yamada, upon hearing the caller’s request in line 51, would most likely believe that he (or his company) wants her (or a representative of her company) to take care of the exchange.

Moreover, although neither party specifically addresses the issue of Ms. Yamada’s ability to take care of the matter, we may presume that the caller would not have contacted Ms. Yamada unless he believed she were capable of assisting him (at the outset of the call he requested specifically to speak with her). Finally, Ms. Yamada’s acceptance of the caller’s request would seem to imply that she is both willing and able to arrange for

63 the exchange; this is confirmed in line 56 when she asks the caller to return the package to her.

(2-13) ano watakusi-ate ni okutte- itadakemasu// ka? HES me addressed GL send-ger receive from out-grp-ipf-pot (i) Q

‘um, could (you) send it addressed to me?’

It would therefore seem in this case, at least, that Searle’s first preparatory condition on promises could be satisfied.

As we noted earlier in section 2.4.2, the second preparatory condition is generally applicable to most illocutionary acts; it indicates that the action being undertaken is not gratuitous or redundant. The condition would seem to apply in the case of (2-12). As for the sincerity condition, assuming once more that we overlook the person-centered nature of Searle’s model, the condition would appear to be satisfied through the caller’s indication of his wants in (2-11) and Ms. Yamada’s response in (2-12).

The final, essential condition is the other problematic aspect of Searle’s conditions on promises with respect to the utterance in (2-12). That is, although Ms. Yamada indicates her intention and willingness to arrange for the exchange, it is difficult to say whether she isobligated to do this for the caller as the result of her utterance. We saw in section 2.4.2 that Searle himself noted that the illocutionary point of commissives “is to commit the speaker...in varying degrees.” We may therefore conclude that while service providers may use the l-masu no de! form in order to reassure service recipient(s) of their willingness and intention to provide assistance, such an utterance may not actually constitute a promise.

Since offers are another class of speech acts which Searle included in his class of commissives, the question then arises as to where we might draw the line between

64 promises and offers. It was noted earlier that Searle did not in fact propose a set of felicity conditions for offers; we might wonder, then, if it is possible to devise a set which would enable us to make such a distinction. Finally, we may ask if this semantic distinction is really useful for our analysis. We will address the first two questions in the next section, and the third in section 2.4.4.

2.4.3.3 Offers

Austin (1962) places the illocutionary act of offering within his class of exercitives, defined as “the giving of a decision in favour of or against a certain course of action, or advocacy of it” (1962:154). It is the latter part of the definition which would seem to pertain to offers—that is, the “advocacy” of a “certain course of action.”

Recalling that Austin classifies promises as commissives because they “commit the speaker to a certain course of action,” we may surmise that Austin sees a distinction between “advocacy” or perhaps “willingness” in relation to offers on the one hand, and commitment in relation to promises on the other.

Searle ( 1976) looks at these two speech acts from a different perspective, however; he places offers in the category of commissives, together with promises.

Although he does not provide a specific group of felicity conditions for offers, we can propose a set as follows (portions that differ from his set of conditions on promises appear in boldface);

(2-14) Felicity conditions on offers (proposed)

Propositional content condition: Future act A of S.

Preparatory condition: (1) 5 is able to do A. H does not necessarily believe 5 is able to do A, and S believes H might want him to do A.

65 (2) It is not obvious to both S and H that S would do A without being asked.

Sincerity condition: It is not clear that H wants S to do A. S intends to do A.

Essential condition: Counts as an undertaking to the effect that A is in H ’s best interest. [Or alternatively, counts as the undertaking of a commitment to do A]

Comparing now the two sets of conditions on promises and offers, we can see that their propositional content conditions are identical—that is, both acts predicate a future act of the speaker. However, these two speech acts differ in several important respects, the most notable of which is this: promises are unconditional commissives, whereas offers are not. That is, when making a promise, the speaker obligates him/herself to undertake an action, and moreover, acceptance is presumed, because the person promising something has often already been explicitly requested to do so by her interlocutor.'^ Therefore not only has (a) the need to make the promise been specified through that act of requesting, but also (b) the interlocutor’s desire that the action in fact be performed, and (c) the particular actor who will undertake the obligation (that is, the person who was asked to make the promise). The speaker who makes a promise therefore believes that the interlocutor wants the action to be performed, and it is clear that the interlocutor believes that the speaker is capable of undertaking that action.

Offers are usually made under more tentative circumstances, however. As suggested in the wording of the essential condition in (2-14) above, a speaker may utter

‘^An example of an unsolicited promise would be the following:

A: “Coming to the meeting ?” B: “Yeah, and I promise I’ll be there on time.”

Although A might not have explicitly requested that B promise to arrive promptly at the meeting, it is likely that B had a previous record o f tardiness that was noted, perhaps unfavorably, by A.

66 an offer in the belief that the stated action will be of benefit to the hearer. Furthermore, in

uttering the offer the speaker commits him/herself to a certain degree to the undertaking of

that action. But the speaker is not under an absolute obligation to do the action, as s/he

would have been when uttering a promise.

Moreover, although offers are frequently extended in the belief that they will be

accepted, an offerer cannot always count on acceptance, for the following reasons.'"*

First, although the offerer may have perceived a need of some sort on the part of her

interlocutor, she cannot be sure that what she is proposing to do addresses her interlocutor’s need(s) exactly.'^ For example, she may have misperceived what was necessary at the time. We observed such a situation in Chapter 1 when Ms. lida of

Worldwide Bank offered to provide a current account balance for Ms. Sasaki of Kansai

Imports:'®

(2-15) 29 A: Genzai no zandaka de yorosii desu ka?// current CN balance CP-ger fine CP-ipf Q

‘Is it all right (to give you) the current balance?’

30 C: A, gomen nasai, ano: soo zya nakiite:, oh excuse me HES that CP-neg-ger

‘Oh, excuse me,um, not that,’

31 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

‘■‘The point here is not to argue that the classification of offers is contingent upon their acceptance, but rather to note the factors involved in the tentative nature of offers. '*Hence the proposed wording for the first preparatory condition on offers in (2-14), “5 believesH might want him to do A.” ‘T h e complete text of this conversation appears in Appendix F.

67 32 C: ano:, otorihiki hookokusho ne arimasu yo ne! HES transaction report form QT exist-ipf SP ATF

‘Um, there’s (the thing) called (a) transaction report form, right?’

33 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

34 C: Sana ken de oukagai sitai n desu keredomo.// that matter CP-ger ask-ipf-des (i) EP but

‘It’s that (I)’d like to ask about that matter, but....’

Ms. lida had presumed, perhaps due to previous encounters with other customers, that her caller would want her account balance. Her offer was thus based on a perceived need, rather than one that had been expressed explicitly. Indeed, as it turns out Ms.

Sasaki is not interested in the balance, but rather the transaction report form.

A second reason for the tentative nature of offers is the fact that the offerer cannot be sure that her interlocutor wants her to do the proposed action; the interlocutor may have other intentions as to how that need may be met. An example of this situation occurs later in the same conversation (Appendix F), when Ms. Sasaki indicates that she would like to have the bank look up the contact information for one of her customers (line 44).

Ms. lida, the bank customer service representative, first confirms what sort of information is needed (e.g., the telephone number), indicates she has understood, and then says:

(2-16) E:to sore de wa, orikaesi odenwa sasite itadakimasu node, HES then return call do-caus-ger receive-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Um, then, it’s that (I/we)’ll take the liberty of giving (you) a return call, so....’

68 Although Ms. lida can convey her willingness and intention to call back through the form l-masu no del in her utterance, she cannot be sure that the return call will be an acceptable response to Ms. Sasaki’s request.'^ For example, it might have been the case that Ms.

Sasaki needed the information right away. Thus, while Ms. lida is certainly committing herself to making the call (should it be acceptable to Ms. Sasaki), she is not obligated to doing so.

Finally, the third possible obstacle to acceptance of an offer (and reason for its tentative nature) is that the offerer cannot presume that the interlocutor expects or desires thatshe be the person to perform the proposed service. We might imagine, for example, a situation in which one member of a group perceives that another is in need of assistance, and offers to help. However, it may be that the person in need of assistance feels that her needs would be better met by a different person.

2.4.3.4 Promises vs. offers: A difference in situational context and degree of commitment

Ultimately, then, our discussion of the differences between promises and offers would seem to come down to a fundamental difference in the context in which the particular speech act is uttered. In the case of promises, a speaker has somehow been made aware that there is a need and a desire for her to undertake a certain action.

Moreover, it has been made clear to her (perhaps through an explicit request that she make a promise, or through prior unacceptable behavior of some sort on her part that has been noted by others) that she should commit herself unconditionally to this action. In the case of offers, however, the situational context is less explicit. While the speaker may perceive

‘’We may note, though, that the deictic use ofno places her utterance against the larger ground of the previous utterances in this conversation; in this way Ms. lida can suggest a connection to Ms. Sasaki between her offer to call back and Ms. Sasaki’s earlier request for information. A more complete gloss for her utterance could thus be, “It’s that (I’ll look up the information) and call back, so ... ”

69 a need and/or desire on the part of an interlocutor that she undertake a particular action,

her degree of commitment to the action is lessened somewhat by the uncertainties of the situation.

The tentative nature of the situational context which we have just identified in regard to offers is no doubt the primary reason for the co-occurrence of forms such as the subjunctive “could” (as in “I could take out the garbage.”) or the phrases “If you like [I can take care of that],” “You want me to [call him]?” “Would it help if I [called her]?” and

“Should I [give her a call]?” in English offers. It is also the likely motivation for the use of phrases Wkt yorosikereba and yorosikattara (literally, “if (it) is/were good”), as well as the requests for permission (-te/de ii desyoo ka?) and the consultative form -

(mas)yoo ka? (“Shall I...”) in Japanese, which we discussed in Chapter 1. By including these forms in their utterances, offerers may be seeking to obtain assurance from their interlocutors that the needs (and/or desires) that they perceive are correct.'* It is not necessary for these needs or desires to be fully ascertained in order for a given utterance to be interpreted as an offer. But it is only after such needs or desires have been confirmed or made explicit that an offerer could speak with more certainty and utter a promise.

I would therefore argue that although these two speech acts share the same illocutionary point— that is, they commit the speaker to a certain course of action—they differ in terms of what Searle has called “the force or strength with which the illocutionary point is presented” (1979: 5). We might imagine a continuum, with explicit promises in

English such as “I promise to call back.” at one end, and “If you like, I could call back later.” at the other. A speaker who utters the former is likely to be certain that the

'"However, I will point out in Chapter 4 that in Japanese, it is not pragmatically acceptable to inquire about the needs and/or desires of a superior. Thus, the least we can probably say about utterances that include prefaces such as yorosikereba... is that they provide options to which the addressee may respond.

70 interlocutor wants or has even requested (the promise of) a return call, whereas a speaker who utters the latter is either uncertain about the interlocutor’s need or desire for a return call, or is presenting options to the addressee for reasons of politeness or deference.

If we compare the two patterns in Japanese that were regularly observed in the data for this study, namely the statement of grounded assurance, l-masu no del and the consultative form, l-(mas)(y)oo ka?l, we recognize a parallel difference in the strength with which the illocutionary point is presented. In the case of l-masu no del, the speaker reassures the interlocutor of his/her intention to perform a given service, but also conveys a slight sense of optionality through the open-ended nature of the gerund form of the EP.

In the case of l-(mas){y)oo ka?l, the speaker indicates his/her willingness to perform the service, but by using the interrogative sentence particle ka and the consultative morpheme

-(y)oo, the speaker leaves the final decision in the hands of the addressee. Example (1-15) from the last chapter, presented here as (2-17), illustrates this contrast nicely:

(2-17) Example incorporating both l-masyoo ka?l and l-masu no del

1 A: Tadaima seki hazusite- ‘masite, modotte- kite- justnow seat leave-ger be-ger retum-ger come-ger

inai n desu ga: be-neg-ipf EP but

‘It’s that (she)’s away from her desk right now, and hasn’t returned, but...’

2 C: A soo desu ka. Wakarimasita. [pause] oh so CP-ipf Q become clear-pf

‘Oh, is that so. I see.’

3 A: Yorosikereba, kotira no hoo kara, orikaesi: good-prv this CN side from return

71 odenwa simasyoo ka? telephone call do-ipf-cns Q

‘If (you) like, shall (we/I) call (you) back?’

4 C: E:to: sosita:ra: HES in that case

‘Um, in that case,’

5 A: Hai. [pause] ACK

‘Yes.’

6C: A, dekimasitara, onegai dekimasu desyoo ka. oh be able-cnd request-ipf-pot (i-) CP-tent Q

‘Oh, if possible, could (you) do (that)?’

7 A: Hai, e:to, Inaisi-san. ACK HES Mr. Inaishi

‘Yes, um, Mr. Inaishi.’

8 C: Igarasi to moosimasu. Igarashi QT be called-ipf

‘(I)’m Igarashi.’

9 A: A, Igarasi-san. Sumimasen. Situree simasita. oh Mr. Igarashi be sorry-ipf rudeness do-pf

‘Oh, Mr. Igarashi. (I)’m sorry. Excuse me [for what I did].’

10 A: Zyaa, anoo: modorimasitara kotira kara well then HES retum-cnd this side from

gorenraku suru yoo ni itasimasu no de: contact-ipf (i) in order do-ipf (<1) EP-ger

‘Well then, um, (we/I)’11 see to it that (someone) contacts (you) once (she)’s back.’

11 C: A, hai. oh ACK

OK.’

72 12 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

13 C: Sumimasem. thank you

‘Thank you.’

14 A; Hai. ACK ‘(You’re welcome.)’

15 C: Yorosiku onegai simasu:. well request-ipf (X)

‘Please [take care of it for me].’

Because the secretary (speaker A) is aware that the caller wished to speak with someone who is now away from her desk, she offers in line 3 to have someone call him back. The tentative nature of her offer is indicated in numerous ways: by yorosikereba, by the consultative morpheme -yoo, and by the interrogative sentence particle ka. However, it is only after the caller has requested in line 6 that the secretary undertake the proposed action that the secretary may then utter her statement of grounded assurance in line 10—which is similar to but not quite a promise. In either case, the speaker is committed to the proposed course of action, but the strength with which that commitment is presented differs because the speaker has varying degrees of knowledge about the caller’s needs and desires at these two junctures in the conversation.

2.4.4 Problems with speech act theoretic accounts

Given that promises and offers both predicate a future act of the speaker and commit the speaker in varying degrees to the proposed act, we might ask why Austin

73 chose to place promises and offers in the separate classes of commissives and exercitives, respectively. Austin concedes that

many exercitives such as permit, authorize, depute, offer, concede, give, sanction, stake and consent do in fact commit one to a course of action....The connexion between an exercitive and committing oneself is as close as that between meaning and implication. It is obvious that appointing and naming do commit us, but we would rather say that they confer powers, rights, names, &c„ or change or eliminate them. (Austin 1962:155)

It would thus appear that exercitives have more to do with the consequences of one's actions, and indeed, Austin later states that “exercitives commit us to the consequences of an act, for example of naming” (Austin 1962:158).

Yet we could argue that any speech act has a consequence, be it an exercitive or a commissive. Perhaps this is what Austin intended by his coining the terms

“perlocutionary act” and “perlocutionary effects.” However, Austin himself says that “it will be seen that the consequential effects of perlocutions are really consequences, which do not include such conventional effects as, for example, the speaker’s being committed by his promise (which comes into the illocutionary act)” (1971:564-5). But is the

“consequence” referred to in the class of exercitives somehow different from the perlocutionary effects associated with exercitives? The former “consequences” would seem to be related to a change of state of some sort (from being unnamed to named, from being unappointed to appointed, and so on). Moreover, naming, appointing, promising, and declaring of intentions might not require a response, or joint action, in order for the consequence to take effect. In contrast, some researchers have argued that offers require an acceptance or acknowledgment on the part of the interlocutor before the proposed consequence may take effect. Rabinowitz (1993:51) for example, claims that

74 What is actually accomplished in an offer-sequence is the compression of two discrete steps, one of which is the speaker’s voicing of the offer, the other the hearer’s articulation of a response. The fact that many offers are refused indicates clearly that the hearer does not always want the speaker to accomplish the mentioned action. This, of course, is something which the offerer can never be certain of at the moment of making the ofer. There exists a distinction, then, between knowledge on the one hand, and supposition or belief on the other....

Levinson (1983:237) discusses just this predicament as follows:

...while one would like to be able to identify the perlocutionary effects with theconsequences of what has been said, illocutionary acts too have direct and in-built consequences—there is the issue of uptake (including the understanding of both the force and the content of the utterance by its addressee(s)— see Austin, 1962:116), and the need for the ratification of, for example, a bet or an offer, while certain illocutions like promising or declaring war have consequent actions specified. This interactional emphasis (on what the recipient(s) of an illocutionary act must think or do) in Austin’s work has unfortunately been neglected in later work in speech act theory (see Austin, 1962:Lecture DC), (emphasis Levinson’s)

It can be argued, however, that offers might not necessarily require such

“ratification” in order for them to be felicitous. Often a speaker may offer to undertake an action or service that s/he feels is in the best interest of the interlocutor, and the speaker may proceed with that action or service without waiting for a confirmation or go-ahead which would constitute acceptance of the offer. For example, imagine that someone is trying to reach ajar from a high shelf in a kitchen cabinet. Another (taller) person, noticing that the jar appears to be out of reach, might say, “I can get that for you.” and could presumably go ahead and fetch the jar prior to or even in the absence of a response by an interlocutor. Because the speaker seems to have judged the proposed action to be in the interlocutor’s best interest and volunteers to undertake that action, we (as analysts) deem the utterance to be an offer.

A statement that the classification of offers as such should be contingent upon the existence of an acceptance or refusal by an interlocutor would therefore appear to be

75 unnecessary in our analysis. Regardless of the hearer’s response, a speaker can always extend an offer in the belief it that it will be accepted. The important distinction that does need to be made between promises on the one hand and offers on the other is that of the degree of certainty (or knowledge, as Rabinowitz puts it) which the speaker has in regard to the hearer’s need and/or desire that the proposed action be undertaken. This is why I have argued that offers are essentially consultative promises. That is, offers are similar to promises in that they commit the speaker to a particular course of action or service, and they are uttered in the belief that they will be accepted. However, for reasons of politeness, deference, and/or uncertainty as to the interlocutor’s needs and desires, a speaker who makes an offer believes it is necessary to leave the interlocutor the option to respond. As a result, the main point which an offerer tries to convey to his/her interlocutor is an assurance of his/her willingness and intention to perform an action or service that s/he believes will be of benefit to that person.

The preceding discussion illustrates one of the fundamental problems with speech act theory. That is, in attempting to classify acts into groups based upon their ‘meaning,’

‘illocutionary point,’ or ‘illocutionary force,’ we risk setting up categories that (1) are not, in the end, explanatorily useful in terms of the work that the actual utterance does in larger discourse contexts, particularly toward achieving the intended goal(s) of the participants; and (2) are subject to unresolvable debate in terms of the assignment of various actions to those classes. Searle makes a comment related to this issue when he notes that “the notion of a promise, like most notions in ordinary language, does not have absolutely strict rules” (1971:623). He therefore takes a compromise position, saying that he will only discuss “the centre of the concept of promising” (Ibid.). But how does one know that one

76 has identified the centre, or the prototypical forms, of promises or any other actions?

Searle does not address this problem.’’

Searle also concedes he will not discuss any “promises made by elliptical turns of phrase, hints, metaphor, etc.” By doing this, he is in a sense ratifying the non-elliptical forms as being prototypical; yet in English as well as in other languages, perhaps there are cases in which non-elliptical forms, or forms that have evolved through metaphor, are completely acceptable exemplars of promises (or other social actions, for that matter). As

I will explain further below, this has important consequences in the case of offering services in Japanese. Perhaps Searle's decision is fine in the case of promises, since

‘promise’ itself, as Austin and Searle have demonstrated, is a performative verb, and therefore promises can be made explicitly in English."” The word “offer,” on the other hand, is not usually used explicitly in the performance of offers.

Another problem with speech act theory is the use of nouns such as ‘request,’

‘promise,’ ‘offer’ and the like to refer to actions. As Geis (1995:25) points out.

The thesis that illocutionary force is a property either of sentences or utterances (or, if this is different, sentence-context pairs) is to reify what are essentially actions. This shows up in the widespread use of nouns to refer to what are clearly acts. Searle ( 1969) not only talks about asserting, questioning, ordering, and promising, but also (p. 160) of assertions, questions, commands, and promises. This reificationist view of illocutionary acts reaches full flower in the taxonomy of Bach and Hamish (1979) in which they employ nominal forms (some of which are nominal uses of adjectivalized verbs) such as ‘assertives,’ ‘concessives,’ ‘requestives,’ ‘questions,’ ‘promises,’ and ‘offers’ to identify types of illocutionary acts (except interestingly for the class of ‘acknowledgments’ where verb forms like ‘apologize,’ ‘congratulate,’ ‘reject,’ and the like are

‘''See Rosch, 1987; Taylor, 1989 on this subject. ’"In fact, Searle (1971:624) argues that the words “I promise” or “I hereby promise” are “among the strongest function indicating devices for commitment provided by the English language.” By uttering these words, speakers become obligated to perform a particular action because of the conventional association of those words with promises. Searle also notes that the same words may be used in what actually constitutes a threat (e.g., “If you don’t hand in your paper on time I promise you I will give you a failing grade in the course.”). The purpose in doing so is not to utter a promise in this case, but rather to underscore or emphasize one’s commitment to fulfilling the proposition therein.

77 used). This way of talking about illocutionary acts encourages thinking of them as things and thus as properties—as properties of utterances or even of sentences.-'

One way to avoid this problem would be to use terms such as ‘offer’ and ‘promise’ as heuristic or descriptive terms, but to refrain from suggesting that they have explanatory power; I will adopt this convention here.

A fourth problem which we identified earlier in section 2A.3.2 is the difficulty in applying Searle’s felicity conditions, which are based on an Indo-European notion of person, to Japanese discourse, which is organized according to the more collectively- oriented notion of uti for its deictic anchoring point.

Finally, a close examination of Searlian felicity conditions as to when they are satisfied reveals a fundamental problem in Searle’s theory when it is applied to individual utterances as opposed to conversation. When making a request, if it is indeed to be expressed within a single utterance, rather than through a number of turns,-' a speaker might conceivably convey to the hearer that ( 1) a future act of the hearer is under discussion (the propositional content condition); and (2) that she wants the hearer to undertake that act (one of the preparatory conditions). An example would be “I’d like you to take out the garbage.” However, in the case of promises, perhaps due to the fact that these actions are response items, some of the transactional work which is required in order for a promise to take place, such as the expression of a need and/or desire by the hearer that the person uttering the promise do on the hearer’s behalf, is beyond the scope of the promise itself.-^ It is therefore impossible to consider felicity conditions such as

■'See Anderson (1979) for a discussion of “the achieving of ‘explanatory adequacy,’ [which] is logically quite distinct from the project of description” (1979:3-4). His discussion pertains to Chomsky and Halle (1968) and the standard theory o f generative phonology in particular, but is an issue that applies to all scholarship. “ Much has been written about the fact that requests do in fact evolve over a series of turns; see for example the papers in Atkinson and Heritage (1984), as well as Geis (1995). ^See Geis (1995:33ff) for a discussion of the transactional and interactional significance of utterances in

78 those proposed by Searle above for promises, particularly the preparatory conditions, if one expects to limit their applicability to the utterance of that promise. In response to this weakness in Searle’s theory, Geis (1995) has proposed an alternative theory of speech acts which attempts to map multi-turn sequences to a series of conditions similar to, but significantly modified from, Searlian felicity conditions; we will discuss this below in section 2.7.

2.4.5 Discussion and conclusions

Despite its limitations, Searle’s work on speech acts is important because it represents a good explanatory theory of possible felicitous and successful uses of sentences. The problem, as Searle himself has recently admitted (Searle 1992), is that his theory cannot be as effectively applied to longer stretches of discourse, not to mention entire conversations. Furthermore, Searle’s speech act theory tends to be one-sided, that is, monologic.'"* On the one hand, his accounts of requests and invitations focus on the beliefs, intentions, and so forth of the initiator of the interaction, that is, the participant doing the requesting or extending the invitation. On the other hand, his accounts of promises (and, by extension, offers) describe the beliefs and intentions of the respondent in the interaction, that is, the participant who makes a promise or offer in response to an expressed or perceived need (promises are usually a response to the former, and offers to one or the other, depending upon the context). While it certainly would have been pointless for Searle to devote his attention exclusively to either the actions of the initiator or the respondent in any given interaction, it would have been far more insightful for him

conversation. ’^See Hopper (1992:13) on this point. He suggests alternative terminology to that of speech acts which would emphasize their sequential nature in conversation— for example, rather than referring to a “request,’ he suggests “request-response” sequences; rather than “offer,” he prefers “proffer-accept or reject” sequences.

79 to have provided an analysis that incorporated both participants in the interaction, perhaps

even including other “ratified listeners”*' in the conversation as well as “overhearers” who

may not be active participants but who nonetheless may participate in shaping the

encounter/interaction and the language used therein.*®

Later research by Labov and Fanshel (1977), Hancher ( 1979), Goodwin (1979,

1981), Edmondson (1981) and others is a significant movement in this direction, for it

has underscored the cooperative nature of speech acts and the beliefs, intentions, and goals of the responder’s (and other participants’) perspective. In addition, Richards and

Schmidt (1983) have emphasized the necessity of examining interactions between

interlocutors, rather than regarding conversation as merely a product of independent

initiator and responder beliefs, goals, and intentions.

But there is another point to consider here, and that is this; not only do we need to take into account the structural nature of conversation of being dialogic, but also the point which Bakhtin has made thatevery utterance, be it of the abstract “speaker” or

“hearer/interlocutor” to which we, as analysts, are wont to refer, is in fact a response— not just to the immediately preceding utterance, but to all of the preceding utterances by all participants in a conversation. More specifically, he writes:

The utterance is filled with dialogic overtones, and they must be taken into account in order to understand fully the style of the utterance. After all, our thought itself—philosophical, scientific, and artistic— is bom and shaped in the process of interaction and struggle with others’ thought, and this cannot but be reflected in the forms that verbally express our thought as well. (1986:92)

^Ratified listeners are those who have in some way been acknowledged or engaged by the speaker, through verbal or non-verbal interaction. Participation in a given conversation would constitute verbal interaction; various indications of attention on the part of the speaker toward the listener, such as gaze, smile(s) and/or nod(s), would constitute non-verbal interaction. ■'’See Coffman (1971:19f0 on ratified listeners and overhearers. Kendon (1990:91 ffi has also discussed various studies which examine movement coordination in interaction between speakers and listeners. See

80 Part of these dialogic overtones are shaped by the speech genres of a given language— that is, the typical forms which speakers use for a particular purpose, on particular occasions. These genres may be larger than an individual utterance, and they reflect thematic, stylistic, and compositional choices. We will return to this point again in subsequent sections of this chapter, as we examine other analytic methods.

2.5 Studies of speech acts in English, Japanese, and other languages

Studies of speech acts in Japanese to date have tended to focus on requests (Kajii

1986, Dcuta 1987, 1988, Himeno 1991, DunkJey 1994, Sukle 1994, Kumatoridani

1995), invitations (Himeno 1991, Szatrowski 1993), refusals (Ikoma 1993), thanks

(Kumatoridani 1990) and apologies (Kumatoridani 1993). This is partly due to the preponderance of parallel work in the fields of interlanguage pragmatics and conversation analysis concerning speech acts in English and other languages, for example requests and apologies (Coulmas 1981, Blum-Kulka and Olshtain 1984, Blum-Kulka et al. 1989), refusals (Takahashi and Beebe 1987, Beebe et al. 1990),’’ invitations (Davidson 1984) and thanks (Eisenstein and Bodman 1986). There have been very few studies concerning offers in Japanese; those of which I am aware are discussed in section 2.9 below.

2.6 Conversation analysis

In sharp contrast with speech act theorists, ethnomethodologists and conversation analysts take as their focus of investigation “action-in-interaction.”’* Researchers in

also Sacks, Schegloff and Jefferson (1974), especially fn. 1 on pp. 696-7. ’’Beebe et al. (1990) used DCTTs to elicit data from ESL speakers (see Rose 1992b:51), and they admitted that questionnaires of the DCT type can be “limiting and may bias [the] results” (1990:67). According to John Heritage ( 1989), conversation analysis developed as a “distinctive research stream of the wider intellectual programme of ethnomethodology” (21). Heritage dates the “public existence” o f conversation analysis “either from the publication o f Schegloff (1968) or from the earlier widespread circulation of Sacks’ unpublished lectures (Sacks, 1964-72)” (37n). Various papers in the field of conversation analysis may be found in the following collections: Atkinson and Heritage (1984), Button

81 conversation analysis (hereafter, CA) claim that mundane, everyday interactions can serve as a revealing source of the ways in which members of a given society contribute to, or more precisely, co-construct’’ social structure through their talk with each other/° These procedures, CA analysts argue, can be identified and even described as a set of rules— for example, rules for sequencing and turn-taking in conversation (see Sacks, Schegloff, and

Jefferson 1974). As Garfmkel (1967:1) noted, “the activities whereby members produce and manage the settings of organised everyday affairs are identical with members’ procedures for making those settings ‘account-able.’” By ‘account-able,’ Garfmkel meant

“observable-and-reportable, i.e. available to members as situated practices of looking- and-telling” (Ibid.).

As a consequence of this different perspective—by examining conversational sequences in telephone conversations, for example—conversation analysts succeeded in identifying two different types of actions. The first type is what we might call “discourse actions,” that is, procedures such as “openings” and “closings” (Schegloff 1972, 1979;

Schegloff and Sacks 1973; and Button 1987, 1990), sequence expansion (Jefferson and

Schenkein, 1978; Schegloff 1980, 1988, 1990), and turn expansion (Zimmerman, 1984;

Schegloff 1991). Much of the research on openings and closings followed Coffman’s

and Lee (1987), and Schenkein (1978), as well as the studies published in the special double issue of Sociological Inquiry (19^0) edited by Zimmerman and West, and in the special issue ofHuman Studies (1986) edited by Button, Drew, and Heritage. Research in conversation analysis as it applies to institutional contexts has appeared in Atkinson ( 1984), Atkinson and Drew (1979), Maynard ( 1984), and Drew and Heritage (1992), among other sources. ■''For a discussion of the subject of “co-construction,” see Jacoby and Ochs ( 1995), Schegloff (1995), and other papers in the 28(3) issue of Research on Language and Social Interaction, which is devoted to this topic. “ Schegloff (1995) points out that for him, “in many respects, the fundamental or primordial scene of social life is that o f direct interaction between members of a social species, typically ones who are physically co-present. For humans, talking in interaction appears to be a distinctive form of this primary constituent o f social life, and ordinary conversation is very likely the basic form of organization for talk- in-interaction. Conversational interaction may then be thought of as a form of social organization through which the work of the constitutive institutions o f societies gets done....It is. so to speak, sociological bedrock” ( 186-7).

82 (1971) seminal work on ritual exchanges, such as greetings. The second type involves actions within sequences, such as announcements, requests, and offers, as well as the pre-announcements, pre-requests, pre-offers which may precede and hint at them.

The focus of conversation analytic investigations tends to be on the organization of sequences rather than on the felicity conditions bearing on a given utterance (the latter being the focus of speech act theory). Heritage (1984:245, as cited in Geis 1994:186) notes.

Conversation analysis is ... primarily concerned with the ways in which utterances accomplish particular actions by virtue of their placement and participation within sequences of actions. It is sequences and tums-within- sequences which are thus the primary units of analysis.

Two important CA contributions in this regard are the notions of adjacency pairs and preference organization. Let us consider each of these here briefly, because both notions are central to the methodology of two studies on offers which we will later review in section 2.9.2. They will also be useful to our later discussion of the compositional structure of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (JBTCs) and the flexible nature of speech genres, which can accommodate the addition of certain insertion sequences without risking their structural integrity. Finally, the concept of conditional relevance in connection with preference organization is useful not only in identifying the range of possible second parts for a particular sequence, but also in identifying speaker expectations—a skill we will argue that second language learners need to develop, especially for a truly foreign language such as Japanese.

2.6.1 Adjacency pairs

Conversation analysts observed that one of the basic units of conversation is a pairing of utterances, such as question-answer, request-acceptance/refusal.

83 offer-acceptance/refusal, and the like. Schegloff and Sacks (1973) called these adjacency pairs, and characterized them as follows:^*

(2-18) adjacency pairs are sequences of two utterances that are:

(i) adjacent (ii) produced by different speakers (iii) ordered as a first part and a second part [and] Ov) typed, so that a particular first part requires a particular second (or range of second parts)—e.g. offers require acceptances or rejections, greetings require greetings, and so on^~

Schegloff and Sacks ( 1973) further stipulated that speakers enact these pairs according to the following rule:^^

(2-19) Rule governing adjacency pairs

Having produced a first part of some pair, current speaker must stop speaking, and next speaker must produce at that point a second part to the same pair

Within a given adjacency pair, analysts noted that one or more of what they called insertion sequences could intervene; the insertion sequence itself usually consists of a pair of utterances. For example, in a sequence recorded by Merritt (1976) in her study of

English service encounters, a customer’s request for a bottle of beer elicits a question, which must be answered before a reply is given to the original question:

(2-20) (excerpted from Merritt 1976b:333)

A: May I have a bottle of Mich? (QI ) B: Are you twenty one? (Q2)

^'As paraphrased in Levinson (1983:303-4). Sacks and Schegloff note that Goffman, in his 1971 work on ritual exchanges, had already identified this type of conversational organization, but had treated them from a different angle. ^‘Here again, we see in the literature an insistence that offers be either accepted or rejected. See Levinson's comment concerning conditional relevance, however; with this concept, we can shift our focus from necessary first and second parts to the development ofexpectations based on speaker behavior. "Again, as paraphrased in Levinson (1983:304).

84 A: No (A2) B: No (Al)

Such insertion sequences were found to involve discussions of preliminary matters that needed to be settled before a second (or “next”) speaker could issue a response to the original first part of the adjacency pair. Yet in some conversations, responses to the initial first parts were never actually made; instead, speakers would provide an explanation

(known as an account in CA) for the failure to respond.

In order to account for this variation in response behavior, Levinson (1983:306) has suggested that the strict requirements which Sacks and Schegloff proposed for adjacency be replaced by the more flexible notion of conditional relevance, which was first formulated by Sacks (1969) and developed further by Schegloff (1972). Conditional relevance refers to the fact that within adjacency pairs, once a first part is uttered, the second part is not only immediately relevant but also expectable. As Levinson (1993:306) puts it.

what binds the parts of adjacency pairs together is not a formation rule of the sort that would specify that a question must receive an answer if it is to count as a well-formed discourse, but the setting up of specific expectations which have to be attended to.

By speaking of expectations that are set up by first parts, rather than of required second parts, we can then successfully include conversations in which, for example, an account is substituted for an expected second pair part. We may also shift our focus from an analysis of parts alone to an analysis that also takes participant expectations into consideration.

These findings have significant consequences for our study of JBTCs, for it was found that the stmcture of these conversations can be divided into sections, within which there are often paired sequences of utterances. For example, during the opening section of

85 a call, almost without exception, both the caller and the call recipient will exchange self- identifications. This is often followed by an exchange of salutations, in which the participants acknowledge the ongoing business relationship between their two companies.

Through experience in participating in this genre of activity, speakers have learned to

“present” themselves verbally in this way, to the point that they have developed expectations that others in such circumstances will do the same. On occasion, however, there may be situational factors or constraints such that an immediately relevant and expectable first or second part may not be forthcoming. Thus in the conversation between

Ms. Sasaki and a customer service representative of Worldwide Bank that appears in

Appendix F, where normally the caller would reciprocate with a self-identification in line

2, because the initial call recipient is an automated push-button response system, the caller must withhold her self-identification until much later in the conversation. In fact, even when the customer service representative introduces herself in line 12, Ms. Sasaki still does not get a chance to identify herself, because the representative must first obtain certain details about the account for security purposes. This section constitutes an insertion sequence; finally in line 20 Ms. Sasaki provides her name, and in line 22 she gives her salutation (which is not reciprocated). We will discuss other aspects of the structure of these conversations in Chapter 5.

The fact that the adjacency pairs were found to be central to conversational organization also has significant consequences for language pedagogy. That is, rather than teaching our students isolated utterances and grammatical forms, it would be well for us to minimally present material in the form of stimulus-response pairs. That material may be model conversations or drills which support and rehearse those conversations.

Other types of drills, such as substitution drills, would seem to be less useful because there appears to be no parallel for them in actual conversation.

86 2.6.2 Preference organization

Another benefit that results from incorporating the notions of conditional relevance and speaker expectations in an analysis of adjacency pairs is the fact that we can then better account for the range of possible second parts that may occur in response to a given first part. Moreover, it is important to identify such speaker expectations because it is these that the second language learner needs to develop, especially for a truly foreign language such as Japanese.

Let us consider offers as an example. If a speaker makes an offer, the addressee may accept, refuse, protest mildly or strongly, or merely acknowledge the offer in passing (the last might happen if the offer concerned something that was perhaps already anticipated or expected). Conversation analysts noted that among these options, there will be at least one type of preferred and one type of dispreferred response.

The notion of preference, it should be stressed, relates not to the psychological desires of speakers or hearers but rather to the linguistic notion of markedness. That is, preferred responses are those which occur in turns that are unmarked or relatively simple in structure, as compared to dispreferred responses, which occur in tums that are marked by features such as delays, prefaces, accounts, hedges, and the like. In the case of offers, an acceptance is considered to be a preferred response, whereas a refusal would be a dispreferred response.

Preference organization also helps to account for the fact that speakers will use what conversation analysts call presequences, such as pre-requests or pre-offers, in order to avoid receiving dispreferred responses. For example, by first asking about someone’s availability before extending an invitation, a speaker can find out whether or not that person is likely to be able to participate in the activity; if the person will not be available.

87 the first speaker can either revise the invitation to accommodate the other person’s schedule, or decide against making the invitation entirely.

Taken together, these observations about adjacency pairs and preference organization have enabled conversational analysts to account for recurring patterns in conversation. For example, in refusing a request, invitation, or offer, speakers typically employ utterances marked with the dispreferred features mentioned above; in contrast, when accepting a request, invitation, or offer, speakers tend to adopt an unmarked format. Moreover, speakers tend to modify their stances on-line, so to speak, in response to dispreferred feedback from their addressees. That is, by including inducements, subsequent versions of first parts, and so forth, speakers often try to elicit preferred responses from their addressees. For example, Davidson (1984) found this to be the case among speakers of American English when making offers and invitations; see the description of this study below. However Szatrowski (1993), for one, has found that this tendency does not extend to Japanese, at least in the case of invitations.

Before closing this section, it is worth noting that the way in which offers are treated in CA differs fundamentally from the way in which they are treated in speech act theory. As we have seen in CA, offers are usually analyzed as possible first parts in adjacency sequences, to be followed by, for example, an acceptance or other response.

Therefore offers would appear to be considered as actions that initiate a sequence of interaction. In speech act theory, in contrast, offers (at least in the way we have presented the felicity conditions on offers in section 2.4.3.S) would appear to be seen as response items, uttered on the basis of the perceived or expressed needs of an interlocutor. There is something to be gained from both accounts. On the one hand, it cannot be denied that the person who extends an offer must have some basis for doing so. On the other hand, it is often the case that a response, such as an acceptance or refusal, will follow an offer

88 (although as we have seen, it is not necessary for a response to occur in order for the offer to be made successfully). Therefore in order to adequately account for the behavior of speakers in making offers, it will be necessary to include the observations of both camps in any future theory.

We may illustrate this point by considering the conversation which appears in

Appendix C. The caller, a male employee at Kanto Bank, asks in line 5 to speak with Ms.

Saito. The call recipient, a female employee at Kansai Imports, is apparently under the impression that Ms. Saito is available, for she puts the caller on hold as though she will connect the call. However, in line 8 she comes back to the phone and in lines 10-12, indicates that Ms. Saito is talking on another line. Since the caller does not offer to call back, in line 16 the call recipient offers (to have) Ms. Saito call back when she is finished.

The caller indicates his provisional acceptance of her offer in line 17.

In this situation it would be difficult to take a purely CA stance and say that the secretary’s offer in line 16 was an initiating sequence. Once again, Bakhtin’s remarks on the responsive nature of the utterance are germane to our discussion; the secretary was clearly responding to the caller’s earlier request to speak with Ms. Saito, as well as to the fact that he did not propose an alternate solution to the situation (by offering to call back himself). Yet once the secretary has uttered her offer, this is not the end of the story; she must wait for the caller’s response to ensure that her solution is acceptable to him.

2.6.3 Discussion and conclusions

While the strength of studies in ethnomethodology and CA lies in their attention to the details of talk-in-interaction, their primary weakness relates to a general lack of theoretical perspective. In fact, many CA scholars eschew the use of theory when examining the data, arguing that it may unduly prejudice the analyst’s perspective.

Levinson (1983:286-7) notes that

89 ...conversation analysis, as practiced by Sacks, Schegloff, Jefferson, Pomerantz and others, is a rigorously empirical approach which avoids premature theory construction....The methods are essentially inductive-, search is made for recurring patterns across many records of naturally occurring conversations, in contrast to the immediate categorization of (usually) restricted data which is the typical first step in DA [discourse analysis] work. Secondly, in place of a theoretical ontology of rules as used in syntactic description, we have an emphasis on the interactional and inferential consequences of the choice between alternative utterances.

Later, he notes that CA’s main strength “is that the procedures employed have already proved themselves capable of yielding by far the most substantial insights that have yet been gained into the organization of conversation” (287n).

Hopper (1989:53) has similarly noted the relatively low emphasis placed on theory in CA, contrasting this with work in the field of social psychology and discourse analysis. In this regard, he says.

Social psychologists produce studies that are based on theoretical and empirical literatures....CA’s descriptions rarely begin with theory....Rather, CA practitioners attempt to begin with data. This stance derives from phenomenology, and especially ethnomethodology. The conversation analyst resists premature theory. Rather, the methodical routine includes occasions of ‘unmotivated’ listening to tape-recordings, encounters holding no particular goal except disciplined recording (53).

Hopper (Ibid:54) also points out that “the CA dictum advising ‘unmotivated listening’ flies in the very conceptual face of practices to control variance [as would occur in studies of discourse analysis].” Nevertheless, such a position is consistent with Garfinkel’s original proposal that the procedures observed and reported upon in the data should be

“account-able.” Schegloff and Sacks defend their position as follows:

We have proceeded under the assumption (an assumption borne out by our research) that in so far as the materials we worked with exhibited orderliness, they did so not only to us, indeed not in the first place for us, but for the co-participants who had produced them. If the materials (records of natural conversation) were orderly, they were so because they had been methodically produced by members of the society for one

90 another, and it was a feature of the conversations we treated as data that they were produced to allow the display by the co-participants to each other of their orderliness, and to allow the participants to display to each other their analysis, appreciation and use of that orderliness. Accordingly, our analysis has sought to explicate the ways in which the materials are produced by members in orderly ways that exhibit their orderliness and have their orderliness appreciated and used, and have that appreciation displayed and treated as the basis for subsequent action. (Schegloff and Sacks 1973:290)

One could argue that it is in fact impossible to avoid using theory a priori, since the terms one selects in one’s analysis are semantically and theoretically “loaded.” This problem lurks below the surface in the following rather contradictory quote from

Schegloff:

...the actions analysis needs to attend to are not those defined by the conceptual commitments of professional discourse analysts (as, e.g., in any of the varieties of academic speech act theory), but those units and understandings of action that are indigenous to the actors’—the interactional participants’—worlds. Hence, the analyses discussed here of ‘pre-offer’ and ‘pre-announcement,’ which figure in no speech act theory I am familiar with, but exemplars of which are common to ordinary conversation. (Schegloff 1995:191-2)

Schegloff would appear to be arguing that the actions “defined by the conceptual commitments” of speech act theorists are not useful to the analyst; one would assume he means by this speech acts such as offers and invitations (despite the fact that these actions clearly have been treated in the CA literature: see, for example, the summary of Davidson

1984, below). Instead, Schegloff advocates the adoption of “units and understandings of action that are indigenous to the actors’...worlds,” and he proposes that pre-offers and pre-announcements are exemplars of these types of actions. Yet despite the fact that ‘pre offers’ and ‘pre-announcements’ have been shown to exist in everyday conversation, the terminology itself is certainly not likely to be used by “ordinary” speakers; rather the terminology is something which conversation analysts themselves have developed.

91 Normally this terminology would not be problematic, particularly if it were to be used as a

heuristic or exploratory device to describe participants’ behavior. However, by using

terms such as “pre-oj^er,” Schegloff and other conversation analysts are unwittingly

referring to the speech act-theoretic language which they seem to be so eager to denounce.

In other words, by claiming that pre-offers exist, they are also necessarily admitting the existence of offers—which have been the object of study by speech act theorists. Thus in a sense conversation analysts have indeed adopted a theoretic stance prior to their examination of the data.

Rather than belabor this issue further, I will provide another quotation of

Schegloff s which more succinctly indicates what he was probably fundamentally at pains to address in the quote above;

Among the most robust traditional anchors for the analysis of language beyond the level of syntax are orientations to information and truth. This position needs to be reconsidered. It is critical that the analysis of discourse incorporate attention not only to the propositional content and information distribution of discourse units, but also to the actions they are doing. Especially (but not exclusively) in conversation, talk is constructed and is attended by its recipients for the action or actions it may be doing.^^

Here Schegloff is clearly arguing for the use of analyses (or perhaps even a theory) which would account for what he calls the “omnirelevance of action,” in addition to issues of information and truth. As we will see in section 2.7, Geis (1995) has developed just such a theory, which enables the analyst to focus on actions in interaction and the way in which the goal(s) of the interaction influence the type of information that will be presented by the participants. Specifically, he proposes the notion of “domain predicates” which must be instantiated before the goal(s) can be said to have been achieved. This has immediate applicability to our own analysis of problem reports in JBTCs, for much of what

«Schegloff 1995:187.

92 constitutes a service recipient’s problem report is the provision of certain details which s/he knows the service provider will need in order to assist in the resolution of a transaction-related problem.

2.6.4 CA studies in Japanese

Many recent CA studies in Japanese have examined openings and closings in telephone conversations (Okamoto 1990, 1991; Kumatoridani 1992; Yoshino 1994;

Okamoto and Yoshino 1995). Of these, most focus on the sequential organization of utterances within openings and closings, and in particular, the fact that openings and closings are characterized by the use of adjacency pairs such as “summons-response” and

“greeting-greeting.” Although the present study will describe (in Chapter 5) how openings and closings unfold in Japanese telephone conversations, the primary goal in doing so is not to explain their sequential nature in CA fashion, but rather to indicate what type of language is used in these exchanges and how the use of such exchanges helps speakers to identify precisely what genre of interaction is operative at the moment.

In contrast to these studies, it is also important to note the significant exceptions in the Japanese CA literature which go beyond a narrow focus on boundaries and turn- taking to look at longer stretches of discourse. These Include the substantial work conducted by Szatrowski on invitations (1987, 1992a, 1993) and sales conversations

(1992b), as well as various studies on conflict resolution and negotiation (e.g., Noda

1990; Jones 1990, 1995, in press). Despite a recent surge in the number of such conversation analytic investigations, to my knowledge none have been conducted which deal with the subject of offers in Japanese.

93 2.7 Geis’s Dynamic Speech Act Theory (1995)

Geis (1995) has proposed an alternative theory of speech acts, entitled Dynamic

Speech Act Theory or DSAT, that addresses the weaknesses in Searlian speech act theory by modifying its felicity conditions and applying them to multi-tum interactions. I will present a brief summary of these revisions here; a more detailed treatment is beyond the scope of the present investigation.

2.7.1 Geis’s revision of Searlian speech act conditions

The first modification which Geis makes to Searle’s set of felicity conditions is to replace the two-part propositional content condition with a more detailed specification of what he calls the domain of the interaction.^^ This is accomplished through the creation of a series of “domain predicates” which, taken together, indicate what the interaction is about. In Geis’s (1995:59) terms, these “consist of a representation of the properties of the action or thing desired by the initiator.” For example, in a request for a ride, domain predicates involve the specification of elements such as the action (ride), the car that will be used to provide the ride, the person who will provide the ride, the person who will receive the ride and so forth. Whether it be through one single turn or over a series of tums, these domain predicates must be instantiated before the goal of a given interaction can be successfully achieved.

The second revision which Geis undertakes concerns Searle’s preparatory conditions. These are amplified and presented as “satisfaction conditions” conceming willingness and ability, and are considered to be a subclass of Searle’s felicity conditions.^® In the case of a ride request, the person making the request must ascertain

”The term domain is borrowed from Welker (1994), as cited in Geis (1995:57). % eis (1995:67) notes that although Searle did not include a willingness condition in his theory, “most speech act theorists recognize one" today.

94 whether or not his addressee is able to provide a ride. Geis points out that the way in which many requests and invitations are refused in English demonstrates that this ability condition exists, as evidenced by the fact that speakers will often use the word can in a refusal (e.g., ‘I don’t think I can make it.’). Looking at this another way, we may observe that English speakers often use the ability condition as grounds for their refusals of requests, invitations, and the like.

Once the addressee has conceded an ability to provide the ride, he or she, through what Geis calls the “axiom of committment,” thereby indicates a willingness to comply with the request as well. The existence of a willingness condition on requests can also be demonstrated through the form of speakers’ refusals; consider T’d take you if I could, but....’ The speaker’s use of ‘would’ (contracted here), indicates the speaker’s willingness to provide a ride, despite her inability to do so.

Geis’s third significant modification of Searle’s conditions on speech acts is to recast his sincerity condition as an “initial state condition,” which stipulates the psychological state of the initiator of a given interaction. Geis notes that the initiator of the interaction and the initiator of the conversation may differ. This change is motivated by the following rationale:

In utterance generation, we choose to engage another in a specific type of interaction because we are in a particular psychological state which leads us to have the goal(s) associated with this type of interaction.^^

This initial state condition clearly applies to most actions such as requests and invitations;

Geis is careful to note that it may also be felicitously applied to assertions, if we consider that the latter are motivated by a speaker’s desire to satisfy an “information deficit” on the part of the interlocutor, of which the speaker has either been made aware or that the

^’Geis (1995:62).

95 speaker has perceived herself. By drawing this parallel, Geis is able to adopt one condition that can satisfy a wide range of actions.

Finally, the last revision which Geis undertakes is that of Searle’s essential condition, which he amplifies to include additional effects of interactions that were not accounted for by Searle. These have to do with what Geis calls "interactional” issues, and for the most part, they relate to the positive and negative face threats discussed by Brown and Levinson (1987). As a result, Geis's theory accounts for both “interactional effects” conceming the interpersonal side of interactions, and “transactional effects” relating to the ostensible goals of interactions.

2.7.2 Using the “details of talk” to support the theory

In addition to revising Searle’s felicity conditions to great advantage, Geis’s theory maximizes one of the strengths of the CA literature, that is, explaining the “details of talk.” In Geis's words.

What is important about any utterance occurring within an interaction is...its transactional and interactional significance—what it contributes to the specification of domain information and to the satisfaction of conditions on goal achievement (including preconditions on the same) and to the face-work the utterance does (i.e., the speaker does in uttering the sentence). But, if an account of the transactional and interactional significance of utterances is to be of any empirical interest, it must facilitate an account of the ‘details of talk’ in conversation, that is, there must be a mapping of some sort from elements of interaction structures to utterances. (1995:58)

As we have seen in the above discussion of Geis's revisions of Searle’s felicity conditions, “details of talk” such as the form of speakers’ utterances can be employed to support the postulation of both the new and revised conditions.

96 2.7.3 An example of the application of DSAT to actual conversation

Geis has successfully applied his theory to numerous request and invitation sequences that are taken from naturally occurring conversation. Much of his study is devoted to a discussion of service encounters, which he divides into two types, namely personal request service encounters and commercial service encounters. To round out our discussion, let us very briefly consider his treatment of one of the personal service encounters here.

(2-21) Example taken from Jacobs and Jackson (1983:299)’^

Carl is standing in the hallway of the speech department, holding the hand of his 15-month-old son, Curtis

Carl: [a] Hey Debbie, [b] Are you going to be free from 1:30 to 2:30? [T i] Deb: [a] Yeah, I think so. [b] You want me to watch him? [Ti] Carl: Yeah [T3] Deb: [a] I’d love to. [b] It’d be a pleasure. [T 4] Carl: [a] Okay, [b] Thanks, [c] I’ll bring him around then. [T 5]

This interaction involves an attempt by the first speaker, Carl, to have Debbie, who is

Carl’s colleague at a university, watch his child Curtis from 1:30 to 2:30 on the day of the interaction. Through a careful, step-by-step application of the revised conditions discussed above, Geis is able to demonstrate how this goal of the interaction is achieved over a series of tums. Due to space limitations, the details of this process will not be presented here, but the outcome may be observed in the final interaction structure which

Geis develops

"Letters and numbers in brackets indicate tums. "See Geis (1995:54-74) for a detailed discussion of the application o f DSAT to this particular interaction. The following are the abbreviations and conventions used in this interaction structure: A the action under discussion i initiator (of the interaction) r respondent (to the interaction) then, as in “if/then” statements < T lb, T?a> indicates that information is established via an inquiry and a response

97 (2-22) Final Debbie and Carl interaction structure

Effects: Transactional: r commits to do A [Achieved at T 3] Initial-state condition: i desires r to do A [T, ] Satisfaction conditions: r is able to do A [T, ] If: -> must (r do A’) [T, < f|b, T 2a>] r is willing to do A [T, , axiom of commitment] Domain (A): action (baby-sit) provider (r) receiver (i’s child) beneficiary (i) begin-time ( 1:30 pm) end-time (2:30 pm) later ( 1:30, now) location (here) cTgO

Domain (A’): action (e’) e’ ?te at (t) t 6 <1:30 ... 2:30>

Let us consider the elements of this interaction structure in the order in which the conditions were treated above in section 2.7.1. First, we have the domain predicates, which represent properties of the utterance; these are listed under “Domain (A)” and are accompanied by an indication in “< >“ brackets as to when each is instantiated over the course of the conversation. Next, we have the satisfaction conditions. The first, the ability condition, essentially points out that once Debbie indicates that she is able to do the action, she must do it. Likewise, if Debbie reveals that she is willing to undertake the action, by what Geis calls the “axiom of commitment,” Debbie becomes obligated to do so. Third, there is the initial state condition, which in this case is that Carl wishes to have

indicates that infonnation is established through a single utterance

98 Debbie watch his son. Finally, the transactional effect or ostensible goal of the interaction

is to have someone watch Curtis."*"

2.7.4 D iscussion

As may be observed from the treatment of the conversation presented above in (2-

22), it is possible through the use of DSAT to account for the ways in which each part of a multi-tum conversation contributes to the satisfaction of conditions bearing on the achievement of the ostensible goal of a given conversation or part of a conversation.

There is also much in DSAT which I have not described here that addresses other questions, such as how to account for specific features of politeness and register.

Ultimately, therefore, DSAT would appear to meet the challenge established by its author, namely that:

speech act theory, if it is to be of genuine empirical and theoretical significance, must be embedded within a general theory of conversational competence capable of accounting for how we do things with words in naturally occurring conversation.

One of the most attractive aspects of DSAT theory to the present investigation is that it seeks to operationalize the features of situational context that Geis sees as being necessary for communication to move forward in a given conversation. His domain predicates incorporate these features of context, and the interaction structure as a whole helps us to identify the points in time, in terms of speaker tums, at which these predicates are instantiated.

In many of the conversations which were transcribed and analyzed for this study, it was found that much of what the service recipient did when contacting a service

^’Geis treats the interactional effects in a separate chapter (1995:105ff), and I will not discuss them here. ■"Geis(1995:xi).

99 provider was to report the details related to a service related problem. In cases involving

incomplete shipments of books, for example, these details included the date on which the

shipment was dispatched, the name of customer to whom the shipment was to have been

sent, the invoice number on the package, and perhaps the intended destination of the

package (i.e., a particular location). Sometimes the service recipient would give these

details in addition to a general statement as to the nature of the problem and perhaps a

request of some kind for assistance. At other times, however, the service recipient gave

no indication regarding either of these; the conversation in Appendix D is one example of

this type of interaction. Ms. Yamamoto essentially announces to Mr. Kaneda what the facts are of the case, and Mr. Kaneda is able to perceive what the problem was.

In Chapter 1 we suggested that Mr. Kaneda was able to come to this conclusion because of his experience in similar interactions with Ms. Yamamoto in the past. Thus his knowledge of previous situations and their related details enable him to act appropriately on future such occasions. Geis has addressed this issue in his book as well, in relation to the idea of indirect speech acts that was posed by Searle (1975) and the notion of “short- circuiting” proposed by Morgan (1978). He cites a hypothetical conversation which he claims to have had with a colleague at one point in the past, in which the colleague requested a ride home from a meeting that would have ended at about 5:00 p.m. (Geis is

“M”):

(2-23) Hypothetical conversation involving ride request (Geis 1995:136)

B: Are you going to the talk/faculty meeting/etc today? M: Yeah, why do you ask? B: I need a ride home. Could you give me one? Mr Where do you live? B: Clintonville. M: Sure, that’s not far out of my way.

100 Since these meetings occurred on a regular basis, eventually the sequence evolved into the

following “actual” form:

(2-24) Actual B and M ride requests (Geis 1995:137)

B: Are you going to the talk/faculty meeting/etc today? M: Yeah, do you need a ride home? B: Yeah, could you give me one? M: Sure.

Geis argues that based on his and his colleague’s previous experience with the longer ride-request episode, the information about the ride destination as well as his (M’s) willingness to go out of his way to provide the ride had been established. Therefore these interactions could ultimately have evolved into what could be seen as a “classic” indirect request sequence:

(2-25) Hypothetical indirect request sequence (Ibid)

B: Say, could you give me a ride home after the talk (etc) today? M: Sure.

Such an interaction would have been possible, Geis claims, because based on their shared, cumulative cognitive knowledge of previous encounters, all that the colleague needed to ascertain was whether or not Geis was going to the talk or faculty meeting that day.

These examples illustrate an important fact about spoken interactions, Geis notes, which is that “the more we know, the less we have to say” (137). What we learn through an initial, more particularized occasion, he argues, can be stored in the form of an interaction structure, which we can then access as we encounter similar encounters on future occasions. For the ride request interaction presented in (2-23), Geis provides the following interaction structure:

101 (2-26) B and M ride-request interaction structure (Geis 1995:137-8)

Effects: Transactional: r commits to do A Interactional: threatens r’s negative face potentially threatens i’s positive face. Initial-state condition: i desires r to do A Satisfaction conditions: r is able to do A If: possess(r, car) [T, ] be-at(r, pi, 5:00 p.m.) [?]"'■ r is willing to do A [T, ] Domain(A): action(ride) provider(r) receiver(i) instrument(car) depart-time(5:00 p.m.) depart-place(pi) CAMPUS-LOCATION(pi) arrive-place(B’s-ClintonviIIe-Home)

Noting that two of the domain predicates concem a late afternoon time and a campus location, and moreover since these bear on the tmth of the not yet instantiated satisfaction condition “be-at(r,pi, 5:00 p.m.),” Geis claims that on hearing an utterance such as B’s initial question in (2-24) (“Are you going to the talk today?”), it is possible that M might interpret the utterance as a ride request (presuming the proposed interaction sequence was

“psychologically salient” at the time).

As for the hypothetical indirect request in (2-25), Geis argues that if B happened to believe that M would be at the talk that day, the value of the precondition “be-at(r,pi,t)” on the ability condition would be set to true. As a result, this would satisfy both the willingness and ability conditions, and all that B would need to do would be to indicate his desire for a ride home. B could then use almost any indirect request form (e.g. “I need

^‘The question mark here indicates that this precondition is as yet uninstantiated.

102 a ride home from the talk today,” “Could I have a ride home after the talk today,” “How

about a ride home from the talk today,” and so forth) (Ibid: 138).

This points to another significant problem with the assumptions of traditional

speech act theory. As Geis (Ibid: 139) puts it:

The point that speech act theorists have missed is that context is more important than form or literal meaning in our ability to use single utterances to do so complex a thing as requesting people to do things for us. All that is required of the utterance is that it posit values for all interaction structure conditions and domain predicates not contextually instantiated (including, instantiated as a result of prior interactions).

Two aspects of this observation regarding the ways in which speakers participate in social actions warrant our attention in particular here: the first is the role of context and the second is the role of one’s knowledge of prior interactions. As was pointed out in the beginning of this chapter, if we truly seek to find out what people do with words, it is essential that we elicit actual samples of language-in-use, instead of relying upon utterances generated through native (or non-native) speaker reflections or intuitions.

Otherwise it will not be possible for us as analysts to observe and identify the very features of context which speakers themselves rely upon in order to participate in their daily activities.

Secondly, it is critical that we not just investigate isolated samples of conversation, but rather through ethnographic techniques we should endeavor to obtain a wealth of data which can demonstrate the process which speakers go through from initial encounters of a particular type to subsequent, similar encounters. It is only in this manner that we can hope to obtain a glimpse at the ways in which speaker expectations and beliefs, contextual knowledge, and other factors such as role relationships influence an individual’s behavior in the various activities (or speech genres) of everyday life.

103 2.7.5 Conclusions

DSAT theory is of critical theoretical and analytical significance to the field of pragmatics. Geis's revisions of traditional speech act theory provide a more feasible model for the study of samples of naturally occurring conversation rather than isolated, decontextualized utterances. Were the primary focus of the present investigation to be a theoretical linguistic inquiry which sought, for example, a computational model that could be used for utterance generation and understanding, DSAT would fit these needs perfectly. Indeed, DSAT would appear to be one step in the direction of modeling the kind of formalized cognitive information which speakers acquire each time they learn a new kind of social activity

However, as we discussed in Chapter 1, the fundamental goal behind this study is pedagogical in that it seeks an approach which will be immediately applicable to the needs of students in the foreign language classroom. Such a perspective would enable teachers to convey to students how it is that speakers in a particular society learn to participate in certain activities in a linguistically and culturally appropriate manner, and moreover, how speakers actually negotiate the enactment or performance of a particular activity. In short, the kind of information we seek to convey here is the largely unformalized cognitive content which speakers acquire as they learn new activities— namely the values, ways of thinking about experience, and intuitions about the appropriateness of applying various speech genres in a given context.

Much of DSAT rests on the assumption that conversation is for the most part goal- oriented behavior. As Geis states.

^^The reader will recall the quotation by Morson and Emerson (1990:291-2) cited in the first chapter, which refers to the large amount of unformalized information acquired in new activities.

104 I shall take the position here that the goal of a theory of conversational competence should be specification of the properties of devices capable of engaging in conversational interactions—devices that we might call ‘conversation machines.’ As such, the theory would be a theory of the conversational competence that underlies our ability to engage in goal- achievement and goal-recognition in conversation and our ability to produce and understand utterances (and nonverbal behaviors) appropriate to the context. I shall argue...that correctly conceived, speech-act-theoretic structures will play a role in accounting for these abilities. (Ibid.)

It cannot be denied that actions such as requests, invitations, and offers— or more generally speaking, the types of service-encounter interactions treated by Geis in his study— are usually motivated by goal-related concerns. As already noted, if the point of a particular investigation is to account for the way in which speakers, through a stretch of multi-turn discourse, achieve their goals, then DSAT would appear to fit the bill.

However, there are many instances in conversation in which one or more participants do not enter into an interaction with a particular goal in mind other than starting to talk. From the analyst’s perspective, of course, it is possible to look back at records of conversation and identify sequences that may be labeled as “request sequences” or the like, and analyze (as DSAT does) how various elements of those sequences contribute to what we consider to be the transactional and interactional goals of a given interaction. But how do speakers themselves enter into and exit from these goal-directed interactions? How do they know that they are involved in or on the verge of just such an interaction? Aside from the specific concerns of utterance generation and understanding, there is also the larger issue of the ways in which speakers recognize and signal to each other what it is that they are doing.

We have seen that CA addresses this issue to some extent by considering such sequences as openings and closings in telephone conversations. Also, the work that has been done in the areas of adjacency pairs and preference organization touches on the notion of participant expectations. But more remains to be done.

105 2.8 Genres, activity types, and contextualization cues

One promising area of research that may lead us toward a better understanding of

this issue is the use of the construct of gerue or activity types, coupled with the notion of

contextualization cues, in the analysis of conversational interactions. Gumperz describes

activity types as follows:

Initially we approach the problem of the symbolic significance of linguistic variables by discovering how they contribute to the interpretation of what is being done in the communicative exchange. The hypothesis is that any utterance can be understood in numerous ways, and that people make decisions about how to interpret a given utterance based on their definition of what is happening at the time of interaction. In other words, they define the interaction in terms of a frame or schema which is identifiable and familiar (Goffman 1974). I will refer to the basic socially significant unit of interaction in terms of which meaning is assessed as the activity type or activity (Levinson 1978). The term is used to emphasize that, although we are dealing with a structured ordering of message elements that represents the speakers’ expectations about what will happen next, yet it is not a static stmcture, but rather it reflects a dynamic process which develops and changes as the participants interact....the activity type does not determine meaning but simply constrains interpretations by channelling inferences so as to foreground or make relevant certain aspects of background knowledge and to underplay others.'*'*

I will argue later in Chapter 3 that Levinson’s conception of activity types seems to lack a culture-specific component, and will point out some alternative definitions of the notion of genre which take this into account. One such perspective is that of Martin (1985), who refers to genres as the way in which things get done within a particular culture.

Regardless of which term—genre or activity type— is used, however, the point is that issues such as participant expectations, background knowledge, and other contextual factors play a role in the process by which speakers interpret what is going on around them. Moreover, as speakers interact with each other, they are actually constituting or

■^Gumperz ( 1982a: 130-1 ; added emphasis on ‘their’ is mine).

1 0 6 co-creating a particular instance of a genre as they proceed, with modifications made as the present encounter requires.

As mentioned earlier, contextualization cues also figure in this process. As

Gumperz puts it:

A basic assumption is that this channelling of interpretation is effected by conversational implicatures based on conventionalized co-occurrence expectations between content and surface style. That is, constellations of surface features of message form are the means by which speakers signal and listeners interpret what the activity is, how semantic content is to be understood and how each sentence relates to what precedes or follows. These features are referred to as contextualization cues. For the most part they are habitually used and perceived but rarely consciously noted and almost never talked about directly. Therefore they must be studied in process and in context rather than in the abstract. (Ibid., 131)

Contextualization cues are varied in form; they range from prosodic cues to code switching among styles, varieties, and registers of language, from lexical and syntactic choices to sequences such as the opening and closing moves in telephone conversations.

What is common to all of them, however, is the fact that their meanings are implicit and context-dependent, such that the identification and discussion of such cues must be grounded in a context-specific framework—for example, that of genre.

This is the approach to analysis that will be adopted in the present work. We will take a closer look at the ways in which the notion of genre has been defined in Chapter 3, and will further elaborate on the idea mentioned in Chapter 1 that genres have “fuzzy edges” and are open-ended. Moreover, we will emphasize that each text or exemplar of a genre is unique in that it represents an enacted phenomenon; it is not a script or set of features which must all be present in order for that text to be indicative of a particular genre. We will also consider the question as to how and why a generic approach might be advantageous in the teaching of Japanese. Chapter 4 will then sketch some of the culture- specific concepts and values that should be taken into account if we are to try to describe

107 how speakers perform or enact the particular genre of this investigation—that of business

transactional telephone conversations. Having laid this groundwork, we may then move

into a discussion of actual examples of these conversations in Chapters 5 and 6.

2.9 Previous studies of offers in Japanese and English

Now that we have examined the advantages and disadvantages of a number of elicitation techniques, as well as the strengths and weaknesses of speech act theory, CA and DSAT as analytical tools in the study of conversation, let us consider the findings of a few studies that have been conducted on offers in English and Japanese, and evaluate the methodology and analyses used therein. It should be noted that the focus of several of these studies differs significantly from that of the present work, so they will not be treated in equal detail.

2.9.1 Studies of English offers

2.9.1.1 Rabinowitz (1993)

Rabinowitz (1993) analyzed 264 naturally occurring, primarily audio-taped tokens of offers in American English conversation in order to develop a comprehensive definition of the offer as a form of speech behavior, and also to determine the social parameters accompanying its use. In particular, the study sought to identify certain features which might distinguish the offer from other similar speech acts such as statements of intent, proposals, and the like.

Prior to collecting her data, Rabinowitz developed a working definition of the offer, as follows: “An offer is the proposal to do something for somebody when there is no obligation to do so.” Rabinowitz explains that there are two fundamental assumptions in this definition. First of all, something, either an object or a service, is proposed to be passed from one person to another; therefore offers must necessarily involve both an

108 offerer and a receiver. Secondly, there appears to be an element of volition involved in offers—hence the specification that there be no obligation in undertaking the offer. I will return to the second issue later in this section. For now, merely note the fact that the existence of an element of volition involved in the undertaking of an offer does not preclude the possibility that there might be, for example, a role relationship obtaining between the offerer and the recipient which could involve some aspect of obligation on the part of the offerer.

A deliberate attempt was made to collect data for her study from as wide a range of sources as possible in order to ensure breadth and depth in the populations sampled as well as in the contexts in which the tokens occurred. Rabinowitz drew from two social networks in particular, both of which were in the greater Philadelphia area; (1) her own personal network of family, friends, acquaintances, and colleagues, as well as clerks, customers, and “occasional bystanders” in grocery stores, supermarkets, department stores, post offices, and so on, and ( 2 ) an extended network of acquaintances of the data collectors who were assisting with the study. Some data that had been collected independently and for different purposes by individuals in the latter group were also included as part of Rabinowitz’ own investigation.

Rabinowitz (1993:9-10) emphasizes that the focus of her study is “the offer-token itself,” rather than issues of informant identity or the circumstances of data collection. Her analytical framework focuses on three factors: participant identity, situational context, and content/topic of the offer. These have been previously identified by Hymes and others working in the field of the ethnography of speaking as being particularly important to any study of language-in-use. Participant goals (‘purposes’ and ‘ends’ in Rabinowitz) are also noted, usually in a header just above each example in the text. Maintaining that the study is not predictive in nature, Rabinowitz generally avoids statistical analysis except in some

109 sections which address questions as to whether the population sampled might reflect the

larger American population.

One of Rabinowitz’s most striking findings is that there are particular linguistic features which tend to be employed in the extending of offers in English. The first is rising intonation to indicate an interrogative, as in ‘You want a bag?’ The second feature is the use of a particular verb from two limited groups of verbs. The first group consists of the verbs ‘want,’ ‘like,’ or ‘need;’ these may occur either in if-clauses ( ‘If you need a witness, you can call me’) or with rising intonation in what Rabinowitz claims to be a formulaic pattern, e.g. ‘Would you like/Do you need/Do you want us to call you back?’

The second group consists of the verbs ‘help,’ ‘try,’ ‘have,’ or ‘let,’ as in the examples

‘If you want. I’ll help you’ and ‘Well, have some coffee anyway.’ Rabinowitz notes that the latter group of verbs appears to be used less frequently than the first group. The third feature which Rabinowitz identified is the use of the modal ‘can,’ which often appears in combination with one of the verbs just discussed. Examples of the use of this feature include, ‘Can I help you with something?’ and ‘I can bring an umbrella.’

In addition to these particular linguistic features, Rabinowitz (1993:112) found that there were a few “idiosyncratic” patterns which tended to recur in the data. These were as follows:

(2-27) Idiosyncratic patterns observed in Rabinowitz’s data

(a) Expressions containing the term ‘any,’ such as ‘anytime,’ ‘anyone,’ and ‘anything’;

(b) The expression ‘Why don’t you...’

110 As Rabinowitz points out, although these features may be used in offers, their presence does not guarantee that a given utterance is indeed an offer/^ She therefore provides the following guidelines regarding the consideration of these features in the identification of offers:

(2-28) Guidelines for the consideration of linguistic features in identifying offers

(a) The presence of a single feature alone is by itself insufficient to identify an offer;

(b) Although one or more of these features often occurs in offers, they do not occur in every offer;

(d) Many of these features also occur in utterances that are not offers.

It should be pointed out that these features which Rabinowitz has identified actually represent contextualization cues of the sort discussed in section 2.8 above. (The reader will recall that these cues may include aspects of lexical and syntactic choice.) I would therefore argue that the guidelines which Rabinowitz proposes here for the consideration of these features in relation to English offers might also felicitously be adapted for any study (such as the present investigation) that includes the analysis of contextualization cues.

Another important finding in Rabinowitz’s study was that the primary differences between offers and other speech acts could be attributed to factors related to the situational context, rather than those pertaining to the utterance itself or to other linguistic attributes.

^’This is a point we will return to in our discussion of the fuzzy nature o f genres in Chapter 3. While a generic text may exhibit a constellation of certain features, a different text representing the same genre may not have an identical “set” of features. Therefore there is no inherent “script” or set of rules which must, on all counts, be adhered to in order for the text to exhibit generic behavior.

Ill Thus, for example, although rising intonation and formulaic verb use was found to be characteristic of offers, this combination of features may also produce an invitation, such as the following:

(2-29) ‘Do you want to go to the movies?’

What distinguishes between these two speech acts is the situational context/* This finding points to the danger of relying exclusively upon lexical or syntactic features when identifying any speech act.

Rabinowitz also observed that certain “behavioral aspects of American culture” were realized in the extending of offers in English; these include “the readiness with which Americans offer food, and the preponderance of service offers which get extended even when they appear not to be needed” (1993:178).^^ The former tendency seemed to contribute to the fact that almost half of the offers which Rabinowitz collected for her study were uttered in hospitality contexts, and represented offers of food and drink.

In this regard, Rabinowitz’s claim in her working definition that offers involve an element of volition and do not involve obligation would seem somewhat simplistic.

Rabinowitz herself admits that “a hostess at a dinner-party...is supposed to offer food to her visitors because the rules of hospitality require that, in her role as hostess, she look after their needs as her guests” (Ibid., 197). This could indeed be seen as a type of obligation which stems from the role relationship obtaining between the participants. The problem with Rabinowitz’s definition would therefore appear to pertain to how she relates

^For example, (2-19) could be construed as an offer, rather than an invitation, if it were uttered by a parent who was offering to drop a child off at the cinema. ^’We may note that such offers would constitute a violation of Searle’s second preparatory condition (regarding redundant actions). Neverthiess, such gratuitous (or we could argue, ritual) utterances are nonetheless taken as offers of assistance by the people to whom they are addressed.

112 the notions of ‘volition’ and ‘obligation’ to societal norms. The following excerpt from her study addresses this issue:

A network of obligations runs through the whole fabric of society. On some occasions, something must be said or done, but what is called for can be selected voluntarily. Sometimes this may be an offer. When this happens, then the particular offer which is chosen becomes an optional matter. It is often difficult to distinguish these special options which people choose to exercise in particular situations from those which involve specific social obligations. Within the range of behavioral options, something may be offered, but this can even occur in social situations where no obligations are involved. Two choices involving a degree of voluntary selection, then, apply to the offer. The first is whether or not to respond to an obligation by offering something. The second is which particular offer to select. (Ibid., 196-7; emphasis mine)

A close examination of this section suggests that Rabinowitz in fact concedes that offers may arise in situations involving “specific social obligations;’’ the real issue is whether or not a speaker will voluntarily opt to act upon that obligation by offering something.

There is a hint of this in Rabinowitz’ final version of her definition of offers, which is as follows:

An offer is a speech act, generally indirect, which voluntarily proposes, without any obligation to do so, to extend an item or a service which the speaker considers to be beneficial for the receiver, and proposes to furnish. It arises from the interlocutors’ shared knowledge of the situational context, and is usually based upon a preference or a need on the part of the receiver which the offerer perceives and indicates a willingness to address. (Ibid., 203; emphasis mine)

By incorporating the notion of ‘voluntarily proposing’ an offer in her definition,

Rabinowitz seems to be trying to account for the element of optionality she alluded to in the earlier quote. Yet the fact that she continues to include the phrase ‘without any obligation to do so’ in the revised definition would appear to preclude the consideration of any offers arising in situations involving obligation. It is clear that offers may be extended voluntarily, with or without the presence of any obligation to undertake that offer. Rather

113 than belabor this point further, I would simply note that Rabinowitz’s definition does not appear to accurately reflect her perspective as argued in her thesis. Moreover, I would argue that it is essential in an analysis of offers that we not exclude contexts (social, professional, or otherwise) in which role relationships involve obligation. Rather, we should stress that what contributes to the sense that an utterance in such contexts is an offer is the notion of optionality or volition—that is, the offerer has chosen to act based on a perceived or expressed need, and is indicating her willingness to undertake that act for the benefit of her interlocutor.

2.9.1.2 Davidson (1984)

The focus of Davidson’s ( 1984) study is not on offers per se, but rather on what types of responses may follow invitations, offers, requests, and proposals, and how speakers deal with potential or actual rejection.^* Davidson groups these particular actions together because, from a conversation analytic perspective, they share common sequential features, namely that they represent first parts in adjacency pairs whose possible second parts are either acceptance or rejection. She then claims that producers of offers or proposals do not just consider either acceptance or rejection to be a possible outcome of their actions, but rather that they see this as an actuality, such that they will tend to examine any following response by their interlocutors in terms of how that might indicate or implicate either acceptance or rejection.

If a dispreferred response, such as a pause, a hint of refusal, or even an actual rejection, appears to be in the offing, an initiator may issue a subsequent version of the offer or proposal in an effort to elicit agreement. Davidson argues that the fact that speakers will issue subsequent versions suggests that speakers do not interpret such

■“’Following Davidson, I will hereafter use an abbreviated reference to these actions, i.e. “invitation or offer,” for “invitations, offers, requests, and proposals.”

114 dispreferred responses as outright rejections, but rather as indications that there is a

problem with the original invitation or offer itself. By producing additional versions of an

invitation or offer, a speaker can show that “the inviter or offerer is attempting to make it

now possible, desirable, or necessary for the recipient to accept,” and moreover that “as

far as the inviter or offerer is concerned, the preferred outcome is acceptance” (Davidson

1984:105). Finally, the subsequent version also provides a second possible point in the

conversation for the addressee to respond.

Let us illustrate these findings with one of Davidson’s examples—an offer that is

met with silence on the part of the addressee

(2-30) Offer followed by silence, and subsequent versions of the offer

1 A: We: 11 dih you wan(na) me tuh (me) tuh jus’ pick 2 you ken you:-get intuh Robinson’s suh yih could 3 buy a li’l pair a slippers? 4 (0 .2 ) 5 A: I mean or ken I getchu something?=Er: somp’n?=Er 6 somp’n? hh! 7(A): =°hhhhh= 8 A: =Mean yuh don’t haftuhh walk around cuz all I’m gonna 9 do is just I’m just gonna go up their patio dresses. 10 =I’m not gonna put a lot of money in (yihknow) intuh 11 do:thes. °hh A:nd, =I thought I’d probly go over 12 around dire:e, =I think the traffic might be (.) less 13 in the middle a the afternoon.// 14 B: Mm hm.

In lines 1-3, speaker A offers to pick up the addressee and take her to a store named

Robinson’s so that she might buy a pair of slippers. Despite the possible response point which A provides at the end of her utterance in line 3, the addressee, B, remains silent.

■‘%id. Davidson’s transcription conventions are as follows: (I) Underlining indicates emphasis; (2) a colon indicates extension o f the preceding sound or syllable; (3) material in parentheses indicates sections in doubt, according to the transcriber; (4) a indicates a short, untimed pause, while timed pauses are indicated with the duration in parentheses; (5) an “=“ indicates that there is no interval between adjacent utterances; and (6) “hh” indicates an audible aspiration, while “°hhh” indicates an inhalation. Other symbols, such as “//” for overlap, are consistent with or have been changed to match my own notation.

115 As a result, A issues a revised version of her offer in lines 5-6, which Davidson claims is an attempt to address some perceived inadequacy of the offer. At the end of this subsequent version, B has yet another opportunity to respond, but does not; this prompts

A to produce a second, rather extended subsequent version in lines 8-13. B, seemingly not interested, merely utters a non-committal acknowledgment, “Mm hm,” in line 14.

It could be argued that much of what motivates speakers to issue subsequent versions such as these is an attempt to mitigate or redress the negative face threat, in

Brown and Levinson’s (1987) terms, to the addressee. That is, given some indication of a dispreferred response, a speaker will seek to minimize the degree to which the acceptance of an offer (etc.) might restrict the addressee’s freedom to do as s/he pleases, without imposition from others. Davidson does not address this issue at all, however.

Other examples which Davidson provides demonstrate that sometimes an inviter or offerer will produce a subsequent version after having only heard the beginning of what appears to be a rejection. She notes that speakers appear to respond to cues or markers that are typical in dispreferred responses, such as “well” (a possible preface to a disagreement) and “uh” (a potential preface to problematic material). And speakers also appear to judge silence as a potential marker of a dispreferred response, as we saw in the example above. In some cases the subsequent versions are accepted, while in others, they are rejected. Consider the following example:

(2-31 ) Subsequent version prompted by marker of a dispreferred response

IB : Do you want any gots for coffee or a//ny(thing). 2 A: We:ll I have: 3 (.) 4 B: You know, I have that great big glass coffee m- 5 °hhh maker it makes ni:necu:ps.= 6 A: =Well say now that’s an idea, Ye:s.=I would like 7 to use (tha:t)

116 In this example, speaker B offers (coffee)pots to A, but A interrupts and begins what

Davidson calls a “rejection-implicit” utterance in line 2. This prompts B to revise her offer

and suggest instead a particular pot which she thinks B might be able to use; she further

amplifies the offer by stating the capacity of the coffee maker. This subsequent version of

the offer provides A with another opportunity to respond, which she does in lines 6-7.

Contrary to what B might have expected (given A’s use of the preface “well” in line 2), A

accepts the revised offer.

What is important to note here is that speakers are indeed attending to dispreferred

markers such as “well” in example (2-31) in order to interpret the actions of others, and

this supports Gumperz’s claim regarding contextualization cues which we discussed in

the section 2.8 above. Further, Davidson’s findings overall suggest that speaker expectations may be influenced by the recurring sequential nature of offers, since offers tend—in English, at least—to appear in adjacency pairings such as offer-acceptance and offer-refusal.

However, Davidson’s focus on the sequential nature of offers in her study reflects the point made earlier in section 2 .6.2 that conversation analysts generally treat offers as though they were initiating actions, rather than responses to the perceived or expressed needs of an addressee. The way in which Davidson presents her data underscores this tendency; she begins an excerpt with the offer, rather than including any previous conversational turns which might potentially influence the extending of that offer. Part of the problem here is no doubt due to the fact that she has grouped offers together with proposals, invitations, and requests in her study, based on their similarities in terms of preference organization (all may elicit either an acceptance or refusal, the latter being a dispreferred response). However, among these four actions, offers in particular are the least likely to stand on their own as an initiating action. If we were to talk about their

117 sequential organization, we might instead propose a three-part sequence, i.e. (a)

indication of need (b) offer and (c) response. But even this is likely to be an insufficient

model of reality, for the needs of the recipient of the offer might never have been

expressed explicitly, or could have become evident over several turns at talk.

As becomes clear from this discussion, it can be very difficult to characterize the

nature of offers merely on the basis of an account of their sequential organization. A full specification of the accompanying context, as well as any utterances prior to the extending of the offer, is necessary. By merely looking at the offer-response adjacency pair aspect of offer sequences, we are truly missing the larger picture. Only an account which includes both what precedes and what follows the offer can sufficiently describe the nature of such interactions, and, consequently, offers, in a way that will enable us to identify the perceived and/or expressed needs upon which the offer is based, as well as certain contextual information which may provide additional motivation for the offer. As was noted in section 2.7.4, in the case of JBTCs, such contextual information includes the details which a service recipient provides in regard to an incomplete shipment or other service-related problem.

2.9.2 Studies of Japanese offers

2.9.2.1 Fukushima and Iwata (1987)

This study examined both requests and offers made by native speakers of English and Japanese; the portion devoted to offers focused on hospitality-oriented offers of food and drink. As a result, the findings are of limited applicability to the present investigation, which discusses offers of assistance in business contexts. Therefore the findings concerning offers will be treated very briefly here.

118 Using Discourse Completion Test (DCT) questionnaires to collect their data, the

authors compared results from two groups of English native speakers with those of

Japanese native speakers. Fourteen of the English-speaking subjects were living in Japan at the time of the study, and 14 were living in the United States. As for the Japanese speakers, all 18 were living in Japan.

Using a DCT, the authors asked subjects to write down what they would say in the following situations:^®

(1) Suppose you invite your friends to your apartment or your house. You noticed that your friends were still standing. You offer them seats.

(2) Suppose you are a good cook and cooked beef stew for your friends. You serve it to them.

(3) Suppose you noticed that your friends have not tasted your beef stew yet. You offer it again.

(4) Suppose you baked cookies. You give them to your friends.

As is clear from the contexts provided, the focus of the study was on interactions among status-equals.

Yet despite these instructions, the authors found that 10 of the 18 Japanese subjects made clear distinctions in strategies and expressions, depending upon the degree of closeness they perceived with their friends. Respondents appear to have provided these distinctions voluntarily, rather than being asked to do so, for the authors note that subjects

“wrote two or more different expressions: to close friends casual expressions, and to acquaintances a little more formal expressions.” Native English-speakers made fewer such distinctions. Japanese respondents were more likely to include prefatory remarks of

^"Fukushima and Iwata (1987:46-7). Only an English version of the DCT was provided in an appendix of the paper, so it was not possible to ascertain how these situations were described in Japanese. Aside from this list of situations, the only other information provided was the directions: “What would you say under the following situations?”

19 an apologetic or self-deprecatory nature to “acquaintances,” as opposed to close friends;

the authors attributed this to modesty in the interest of being polite. More specifically, the

authors argued that Japanese speakers were employing the “Modesty Maxim” proposed

by Leech (1983:132), i.e. “Minimize praise of self’ and “Maximize dispraise of self.” For

example, in situation ( 1 ) when offering a friend a seat, two Japanese respondents

apologized first about not having noticed that a friend was standing, and said,

(2-32) Offering a friend a seat

Ara ki ga kikanakute gomen nasai. Doozo. oh notice-neg-ger be sorry please

‘Oh, (I)’m sorry (for) not noticing. Please (have a seat). >5 /

In situation (2) when offering the stew, ten of the Japanese subjects prefaced their offer with expressions such as

(2-33) Offering stew

Oisii ka doo ka wakaranai kedo. delicious Q how Q be clear-neg (—>) but

‘(I) don’t know if (it)’s good or not, but...(please have some).’

Finally in situation (3), when asked to urge friends to try the stew, many subjects used one of the following phrases:

(2-34) Urging friends to try one’s stew

(a) Hon no sukosi desu ga.... mere CN little CP-ipf but

‘It’s just a little, but...(would you like some more?)’

’‘English glosses for these examples are my own.

120 (b) Okuti ni au to yoi no desu ga... mouth GL suit good EP but

‘It’s that it would be good if (it) suited (you), but...(would you like some?)’

The authors do not address the fact that subjects adopted the distal form of the copula, desu, in their offers; we might speculate, however, that such formality arises from the ritualistic nature of the situation, in which the speaker assumes the role of hostess to her guests.

As for any similarities between English and Japanese responses, the authors found that all subjects used set phrases frequently, such as Doozo ‘please,’ ‘go ahead’ in

Japanese, or ‘Please have/take a seat’ in English for the first situation. The authors seem to have concluded that these were ‘set’ phrases based on the fact that these phrases recurred frequently as responses.

The authors also compared responses between the two groups of English speakers, and found that there was a slight tendency within the group living in the United

States to use expressions which were interpreted as lessening the perceived distance between speaker and addressee. For example, in situation (2), one speaker said ‘This will probably be the best stew you’ve had in your life.’ In situation (3), another said, ‘You’d better eat. If you don’t, you don’t know what you’re missing.’

The primary shortcoming of this study is that the methodology and results are presented in an extremely vague fashion, such that it is impossible to tell why (and how) only the Japanese subjects drew distinctions between levels of social distance in their responses. It is possible, for example, that there might have been three different versions of the questionnaire, each of which specified a level of perceived distance (e.g. conversation among friends, to a superior, to a subordinate); however, only the version describing conversation among friends appears in the appendix to the study. Without a

121 more precise description of these aspects of the study, it is impossible to draw any conclusions from the findings reported therein.

2.9.2.2 Matoba (1989a, 1989b)"

In a study that was based entirely upon data elicited through questionnaires,

Matoba sought to determine the perceived degree of politeness {teineisa) employed in speaker-oriented {hanasite-tyuusin) versus addressee-oriented {kikite-tyiiusin) offers in

Japanese and German. By speaker-oriented offers, Matoba seems to mean offers with first-person subjects; similarly, by addressee-oriented offers, he appears to mean offers with second-person subjects. An example for each type of utterance in Japanese appears below.

(2-35) Speaker-oriented offer

Agemasu yo. give-to-out group SP

'(1)11 give (you) (this).’

(2-36) Addressee-oriented offer

Omoti kudasai. holding (T) give to in-group-ipf (T)

‘Please take (this).’

In addition to the speaker- versus addressee-oriented offer distinction, Matoba further classifies offers according to the following three categories:

*'The results reported below represent a compilation of those reported in these two sources. Matoba (1989a) was a conference presentation: Matoba (1989b) is a Ph.D. dissertation written in German. Both discuss the same material, but to differing degrees.

122 (2-37) Possible types of offers

(a) temporary shift of possession of an object; (b) permanent shift in possession of an object; (c) offers “in the broad sense”

Offers of type (c), i.e., those “in the broad sense,” are not treated in his study. Instead,

the focus is on the offering of things in two differing contexts: giving one’s own book as

a present to someone, and lending an umbrella to someone who is visiting one’s house,

presuming that it has started to rain.

Matoba distributed two separate questionnaires for his study to 160 Japanese

students (105 females, 55 males) who were between the ages of 18 and 23.^^ The first

questionnaire asked students what they would say in the two contexts just described;

students were asked to provide answers which would be appropriate if the addressee were

(a) a college professor; (b) a school senpai (an older student); and (c) a close friend. This enabled the investigator to consider the degree to which linguistic form might vary depending upon differing social distance between speaker and addressee.

The second questionnaire consisted of two sections. The first asked students to indicate, in the book-offer context, what they would say if (a) they were to assume a very formal attitude or stance, and (b) a very relaxed attitude.^'* They were then to assign their answer for (a) the value of 5, and for (b) the value of 1—that is, endpoints on a scale of 1 to 5. In the second section, students were asked to locate each of 18 separate utterances

(provided by the investigator) within those two endpoints on the scale, according to the

"For the portion of the study conducted in Germany, Matoba distributed two separate questionnaires to 270 native German students (140 males and 130 females), whose ages ranged from 19 to 28. "Afoffomo aratamatta taido de ini toki ni tukau hyoogen, and mottomo kirakuna taido de im toki ni tukau hyoogen, respectively.

123 perceived formality of each. This list of utterances included both speaker-oriented and

addressee-oriented offers.

Matoba's hypothesis was that addressee-oriented offers would be considered more polite in both Japanese and in German; however, the results seemed to suggest that this was the case only for Japanese. Specifically, Matoba found that in the book

(permanent transfer) contexts in which formal {aratamatta) behavior was called for (the first questionnaire), addressee-oriented utterances were preferred.^® In the case of temporary transfer (the umbrella), regardless of the level of formality, addressee-oriented utterances were preferred.^^ In both cases in German, the opposite results were found.

Based on the results to the first part of the study, Matoba observed that just because addressee-oriented offers were preferred does not mean that we can say they are more polite. However, he noted it might be possible to argue that given the low number of speaker-oriented responses in Japanese, regardless of the context, that these are

” To a professor, 37.4% of the subjects chose speaker-oriented utterances, whereas 56.5% chose addressee- oriented utterances. To a senpai, ‘one’s senior (in a group),’ 41 % adopted speaker-oriented moves, while 25.5% gave addressee-oriented responses. Finally, to a close friend, 80.5% of the subjects preferred speaker-oriented utterances, as compared to 9.1% who preferred addressee-oriented utterances. Examples of speaker-oriented utterances included; Kono hon, sasiagetai to omou n desu ga.... (‘It’s that I’d like to give you this hook, hut....’, using a humble polite verbal, distal style, and the extended predicate),Kono hon, sasiagemasu no de.... ( ‘I’ll give you this hook, so...’, using a humble polite verbal and distal style with the gerund form of the EP), and Kono hon, agent yo( ‘I’ll give you this book’, using a plain, direct style verbal without the EP). Examples of addressee-oriented utterances included: Kono hon, omoti ni natte kamaimasen yo ( ‘I don’t mind if you take this book’, using an honorific polite verbal and distal style), Kono hon, omoti kudasai ( ‘Please have this book’ using the imperative request form of an honorific polite verbal), Kono hon, motte-te mo ii wa yo( ‘It’s fine if you take this book’, using a plain, direct style verbal). ^*To a professor, 9.8% of the subjects used speaker-oriented utterances, while 85.3% chose addressee- oriented utterances. To a senpai, 9.4% adopted speaker-oriented moves, while 68.1 % gave addressee- oriented responses. Finally, to a close friend, 19.5% of the subjects preferred speaker-oriented utterances, as compared to 70.4% who preferred addressee-oriented utterances. Speaker-oriented utterances in the case o f temporary transfer included: Kono kasa, okasi simasyoo (‘Shallka? I lend you this umbrella?’, using the consultative, distal style form of an honorific polite verbal), Kono kasa, kasite-agemasu yo(‘I’ll lend you this umbrella’, using the gerund of a plain verbal together with the distal style form of the plain donatory auxiliary), andKono kasa, kasite-ageru (‘I’ll lend you this umbrella’, using the gerund o f a plain verbal together with the direct style form of the plain donatory auxiliary). Addressee-oriented utterances included: Kono kasa, omoti ni narimasen ka? (‘Won’t you take this umbrella?’, using an honorific polite form in distal style), Kono kasa, tukaimasu ka? (‘Will you use this umbrella

124 considered by speakers to be relatively impolite or inappropriate. He also speculated that addressee-oriented forms allow speakers to avoid referring explicitly to the act of giving or lending, and therefore might minimize the perceived burden on the addressee, rendering them more polite.”

Results for the second part of the study were not reported in Matoba (1989a) and will not be treated here.^* What is interesting to note in regard to this part of the study, however, is that two of the speaker-oriented utterances included in the list for the subjects’ evaluation are similar in syntactic form to those we will be discussing in the context of Japanese business telephone calls—namely l-masu no del and i-{mas)(y}oo ka?i. Matoba classified the former pattern within the category of permanent shift of possession, and the latter within temporary shift of possession; we might hypothesize that there is a fundamentally different assumption or motivation underlying the use of these forms which could relate to the differences in context. Indeed, we will find that the distribution of these forms differs for offers made in Japanese business contexts as well.

Matoba’s study has a number of limitations relating to methodological issues and research design. First, the questionnaire given to students is quite complex in terms of what type of response is to be given and how evaluations are to be made. This probably only exacerbates the already potentially artificial nature of data collected through the use of questionnaires. Moreover, given the limited specification of context in the elicitation instrument, caution is to be advised when considering the reported results. The fact that the basic unit of investigation is the single utterance also suggests that we are looking at

^^Matoba bases his discussion o f politeness on Leech’s (1983) maxims o f politeness. This will not be discussed here because it is beyond the scope of this investigation. ’"As noted earlier, the results I am reporting are a synthesis of the findings in two reports, the longer and potentially more useful of which is in German (Matoba 1989b). Since I do not read very much German, what I am able to report is rather limited. However, since a copy of the Japanese questionnaire appeared in the appendix to the (1989b) study, I have been able to describe the methodology and some of the content of the investigation here.

125 an abstracted, possibly simplified version of what actually happens in naturally occurring conversation. One final limitation is that the study does not address offers of assistance, so that the findings are therefore of limited applicability to the present investigation.

2.10 Conclusions

We have now considered several data elicitation techniques and methods of analyzing conversation. At the outset of this chapter, a need was identified for additional empirical studies using ethnographic data collection techniques which might facilitate the development of effective pedagogical models as to how language is used on particular occasions and in particular contexts. Recent studies in cross-cultural pragmatics and sociolinguistics such as the Cross Cultural Speech Act Realization Project (CCSARP) have depended upon data obtained through Multiple Choice Questionnaires (MCQs) and

Discourse Completion Tests (DCTs). Despite the fact that such methods enable researchers to collect large samples of data in supposedly comparable situations in a short period of time, there are several limitations to these techniques. Most importantly, studies have shown that native and non-native speaker intuitions involving sociolinguistic and pragmatic Judgments do not accurately reflect those speakers’ actual speech behavior.

Furthermore, techniques such as MCQs and DCTs limit the degree to which contextual information may be both specified and elicited. If we consider this fact together with the information presented in the latter portion of this chapter which emphasized the importance of the expectations and knowledge which speakers bring to a particular encounter, based on previous experience with similar enactments, we realize that one-time written (or even oral) assessments may reveal only a partial picture of speaker behavior.

Other metholodological problems include the fact that the data which is elicited tends to be limited to single utterances as opposed to longer stretches of discourse, the difficulties in

126 applying the same techniques cross-culturaJly, and the fact that these studies do not actually examine language-in-use yet claim to assess “stereotypical behavior”.

The analytical approach of speech act theory, from which many of these recent studies originated, was discussed at some length in this chapter in order to illustrate how one might use Searlian felicity conditions in order to distinguish among a group of social actions—requests, promises and offers—which share certain family resemblances. In terms of their felicity conditions, requests and promises were found to be mirror images of each other, with the former representing an attempt by the speaker to get the hearer to undertake an action, and the latter representing the actual undertaking of an obligation by a speaker. It was also noted that promises are usually responses to explicit requests or orders. Searle’s first preparatory condition on promises states that a speaker must believe that the hearer wants him/her to do a particular action, and it was suggested that one of the ways in which the hearer’s wants can be made known to the speaker is through an explicit request.

As for promises and offers, it was argued that while both social actions share a common illocutionary point—that is, they commit the speaker to a certain course of action—there are two fundamental differences between them. The first is the knowledge or belief which a speaker has concerning the hearer’s needs and wants, based on the situational context. In uttering a promise, a speaker has a clear idea from the prior discourse context as to what the hearer wants him/her to do; however, when uttering an offer, the speaker has often only perceived what the hearer’s needs or wants are, and is volunteering to undertake an action which s/he believes will benefit the hearer.

Due to this difference in the level of certainty which a speaker has regarding the hearer’s wants and needs, a difference in the force or strength with which the speaker presents the illocutionary point (i.e. the commitment to the action) emerges as well. A

127 person uttering a promise does so with the understanding that it will obligate him/her to do the action. A person uttering an offer, however, has a more tentative stance toward the situation because s/he cannot be sure that the proposed action will suit the hearer’s needs and/or wants. We have thus suggested that offers could be characterized as tentative or consultative promises, in order to convey this difference in the degree of commitment.

Although these observations are helpful to a certain extent in teasing out the differences between promises on the one hand and offers on the other, it is questionable as to how useful these differences in nomenclature actually are to analyses of speakers’ behavior, particularly in relation to the achievement of speakers’ goals. While it is convenient for descriptive or heuristic purposes to label one utterance a “promise” and another an “offer,” we would perhaps do best to avoid suggesting that these terms have explanatory power. Furthermore, overuse of these terms as nominals only serves to reify what in fact are actions and presents them instead as things which could conceivably be neatly categorized into classes. Our discussion of the various actions of requesting, promising, and offering in this chapter has demonstrated that such a task is actually not such a straightforward matter.

We have also observed a fundamental problem in applying Searle’s system of felicity conditions to utterances as opposed to conversation. Although the system was originally proposed for the analysis of individual utterances, in fact many of the felicity conditions cannot be satisfied in the span of a single sentence, but instead are met over a series of turns in a conversational exchange. Yet the system also cannot fully account for all of the details in longer stretches of discourse. Ultimately, then, Searle’s theory does much toward developing an explanatory theory of the possible felicitous and successful uses of sentences, but has significant limitations in its application to conversation, particularly given its monologic focus on either the initiator or respondent of an

128 interaction. This person-based focus also poses problems for the application of the theory to Japanese, a language whose deictic anchor point is the collective iiti, rather than the self.

Whereas Searle’s approach to conversation cannot account for many of the details of talk and is predominantly monologic in nature, the approach which conversation analysts take in their investigations of talk-in-interaction focuses on the specifics of individual encounters and seeks to identify sequences of utterances which might reflect an underlying organization to the ways in which speakers and listeners jointly co-construct meaning. CA studies have succeeded in identifying two types of actions: (1) discourse actions such as openings and closings which represent sequences of utterances, and (2) actions within sequences, such as pre-requests, requests, pre-offers and offers. In terms of the organization of conversation, analysts have proposed that the basic unit is not an individual utterance, but rather a pairing of utterances such as question-answer. Within these adjacency pairs, it was also noted that an intervening pair of utterances or ‘insertion sequence’ may appear, which is motivated by the need to resolve some preliminary issue prior to the issuance of a response for the first adjacency pair. The notion of conditional relevance was further proposed in order to explain how speaker expectations evolve due to these organizational features of conversation.

These observations were corroborated in the data for the present study. It was found that the structure of JBTCs could be divided into sections, each of which often contained paired sequences of utterances. Insertion sequences appeared, but did not impede the flow of the conversation once the preliminary matters at issue had been settled.

Most importantly, speakers did seem to have developed certain expectations which helped them to anticipate when and what would be appropriate for them to say. Although to a certain degree these might be attributed to conditional relevance, we have also proposed in

129 this chapter that a larger matter is involved, namely the notions of genre and contextualization cues. In short, conversations among speakers who shared a certain facility and familiarity with the genre of JBTCs and who were capable of producing and interpreting contextualization cues appropriately tended to progress much more smoothly as a result.

One of the weaknesses that was pointed out about CA in regard to the social action of offering was that while the notion of preference organization may be useful in explaining the possible second-part responses made to offers, little has been done to address the responsive nature of offers themselves. Davidson’s (1984) study, for example, grouped invitations, offers, requests, and proposals together based on their common sequential features, namely that they represent first parts in adjacency pairs whose possible second parts are either acceptance or rejection. A variety of dispreferred second parts to these social actions were found to elicit subsequently modified versions of the first parts, the aim of which was to elicit acceptance from the addressee. While this finding is certainly revealing, because the study assumes that offers are initiating actions rather than responsive actions, it misses the opportunity to address other situational and discourse factors which might have elicited the offers and other social actions in the first place, such as the perceived or expressed needs of the interlocutor. In this regard, it was suggested that Bakhtin’s approach to speech genres, together with Gumperz’s notion of contextualization cues, could help to account for these and other issues since both are based on the idea that all utterances are responsive and depend to a certain extent on the previous discourse and upon a speaker’ knowledge of how utterances are used in similar contexts, for similar purposes.

This chapter also examined Geis's (1995) Dynamic Speech Act Theory, which was proposed in order to address some of the weaknesses of Searlian felicity conditions.

130 as well as the overall lack of a theoretical approach in conversational analysis. DS AT appears to be particularly attractive in that it seeks to operationalize the features of situational context which would seem to be necessary for communication to move forward in a given conversation. Using the notion of domain predicates which must be instantiated in order for the goal of the interaction to be achieved, together with a revised set of felicity conditions which Geis calls satisfaction conditions, it seems possible to formalize certain aspects of conversational interaction in a way that would be useful to computational models of utterance generation and understanding. The theory is also helpful in that it demonstrates ways in which speakers rely upon their cumulative knowledge of previous, similar encounters in order to develop expectations and make inferences about future encounters. We have seen in the present study that this is an important factor in successful conversational interactions. What Geis’s theory cannot account for, however, are the numerous elements associated with these interactions which reflect the largely unformalized cognitive knowledge which speakers rely upon in order to recognize the sort of interaction they are engaged in, and which guides them in their performances of subsequent enactments of the same activity. This cognitive knowledge is associated with and acquired together with the many speech genres of a given language.

The last section of this chapter was devoted to a review of studies in English and

Japanese on the social action of offering. Rabinowitz’s (1993) study, which was based on a corpus of naturally occurring samples of conversation, identified numerous linguistic features of English offers such as rising intonation, the use of certain verbs, the use of the modal ‘can,’ and certain idiosyncratic expressions which recurred in the data. We have noted that all of these features in fact represent contextualization cues. Rabinowitz also found that the primary differences between offers and other speech acts which resemble them (such as promises and statements of intention) can be attributed to aspects of the

131 situational context, rather than to properties of the utterances themselves, as Searle would seem to have proposed. This is an important finding which applies to the data in the present investigation as well, for it was noted that speakers’ knowledge of the previous discourse context and experience with the larger genre of activity in which they are engaged guides their behavior and influences their lexical, syntactic, stylistic, and compositional choices. Finally, we pointed out that although Rabinowitz’s definition of offers would seem to exclude contexts in which speakers might extend assistance due to the obligations inherent in their roles, it can be argued that what contributes to the sense that an utterance is an offer in such contexts is the fact that a speaker has chosen to act based on a perceived or expressed need, regardless of his or her role relationship with the addressee.

The three studies which were discussed in relation to offers in Japanese, namely

Fukushima and Iwata (1987) and Matoba (1989a, 1989b), were disappointing in that the data upon which they were based were elicited through questionnaires. As such, it is questionable as to how faithfully their findings reflect actual speaker behavior. Fukushima and Iwata’s study suggested that Japanese speakers appear to make clear distinctions in strategies and expressions depending upon the degree of closeness which they perceive with their interlocutors, whereas English speakers seem to make fewer such distinctions.

The authors also found that the Japanese tended to preface their offers with a preparatory comment of some sort. As for Matoba’s two studies, the results suggested that among

Japanese speakers, addressee-oriented offers were preferred to speaker-oriented offers, whereas the opposite was the case in German. While this does not necessarily mean that such offers are necessarily more polite in Japanese, it was argued that such forms might allow speakers to minimize the perceived burden on the addressee, rendering them more polite. Matoba also found that the patterns l-masyoo ka?l and

132 l-masu no del were used by speakers in different contexts, with the former pattern being used to propose a temporary shift in the possession of objects, and the latter being used in regard to a permanent shift of possession. This has implications for the present smdy, in that it suggests that there may be a fundamentally different assumption or motivation underlying the use of these forms which could relate to differences in context. We will discuss this issue in more detail in subsequent chapters.

133 CHAPTER 3

METHODOLOGY: DATA COLLECTION

AND THE NOTION OF GENRE

3.1 Introduction

We begin this chapter with a presentation of the rationale behind the ethnographic methodology adopted for this investigation, discussing in the process the advantages of tape recorded versus hypothetical or recalled data, as well as the importance of telephone conversations to our public and private lives and to the business world. This is followed by a summary of the methodology used for data collection, including information regarding site locations and set-up for audiotape recordings, number and ages of subjects, and separate videotape recordings.

The second half of the chapter elaborates upon the approach to the analysis of the data already introduced in Chapters 1 and 2. At the heart of the investigation is a group of conversations which exhibit certain commonalities of compositional structure, style, and thematic content. Using Bakhtin’s definition of speech genres, it will be argued that each of these texts represents an individual enactment of a particular genre, which we have named Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (JBTCs). Within this larger genre, we may also identify two sub-genres or sub-routines, which are the reporting of problems by service recipients and the offering of assistance by service providers.

134 The purpose in doing so is twofold. First, for pedagogical purposes we seek to develop a model of how individuals in a particular culture make use of linguistic (viz., generic) resources in order to perform one particular activity in their daily work.

Depending upon the particular confluence of situational factors, which we may represent through Halliday’s notion of the Context of Situation, as well as the degree of knowledge which speakers have in regard to the details of the transaction, it is anticipated that participants in this genre of activity may behave in slightly different ways on different occasions. However, presuming that there is a certain constellation of compositional, stylistic, and thematic features present in a given interaction, we may recognize that encounter as one instance of a JBTC. The second goal of the investigation is related to the first, and that is to provide a “thick description” (in the Geertzian sense) of a small number of conversations as they occur in particular contexts, and which share these similar constellations of compositional, stylistic, and thematic features.

To support our definition of genre, we will present and discuss various other perspectives on genre, register, and style which have been proposed in the literature. We will also argue that the notion of “activity type” proposed by Levinson ( 1992) cannot account for certain aspects of speaker behavior and language more generally in a way that a Bakhtinian approach to genre can.

3.2 Rationale for an ethnomethodological approach

As stated in Chapter 2, one of the aims of my research is to incorporate as much naturally-occurring conversational data as possible. I strongly agree with Wolfson

(1983:95), who noted:

Ethnographic field work is the only reliable method of collecting data about the way speech acts function in interaction. Intuitions about speech usage are . . . notoriously unreliable, since speakers tend to be aware of the societal norms and are too often misled into believing that these norms

135 represent the actual speech patterns of the community.. . . [D]ata collected by means of tapping into the intuitions of naive native spe^ers, useful as they may be in pointing to some of the general outlines of differences between norms of different language groups, cannot, in themselves, provide us with the range of possible situations in which specific speech acts may occur or with the distribution of the various forms under investigation. A realistic study of speech use must involve the actual observation of speech in use. (emphasis mine)

Perhaps the primary obstacle in conducting such ethnographic field work is what

Labov (1972), who advocated the use of one-to-one tape-recorded interviews as the optimal method of obtaining good data for the analysis of the Black English vernacular, has called the “observer’s paradox.” He describes this as follows:

The aim of linguistic research in the community must be to find out how people talk when they are not being systematically observed; yet we can only obtain these data by systematic observation. (Labov 1972:209)

The problem, in other words, is that in the process of systematic observation the investigator may affect the outcome of the results. This is a particularly troublesome matter when the investigator is not a member of the community being studied—hence the use of native informants in numerous ethnographic and anthropological studies, and the use of DCTs and MCQs in cross-cultural studies such as those discussed in the previous chapter which may be distributed and collected by someone other than the investigator.

In order to minimize the negative effects of the Observer’s Paradox in this study, it was decided that the most effective method for collecting the data would be to make recordings of the telephone conversations of native speakers over a period of several months. Telephone conversations have been widely used by researchers in the field of conversation analysis as a means of obtaining long stretches of discourse. Although the mode of communication is restricted to the aural/oral channel (i.e., unlike face-to-face interactions, it does not include mutually visible non-verbal behavior), this methodology

136 is preferable to the use of written questionnaires or other elicitation techniques which depend upon hypothetical or recalled data, for reasons we will now review.

3.2.1 Tape recorded versus hypothetical or recalled data

There are several advantages to using tape recorded data rather than hypothetical examples or utterances recalled in retrospect. First, barring technical difficulties or privacy considerations, interactions may be examined in their entirety. This is extremely important for the analysis of contextual cues and the co-construction of the interaction as it proceeds through the contributions of all of the participants.

Secondly, tape recordings may be reviewed repeatedly, by the investigator or any other persons with whom the recordings are shared.' In each such review, the data remain unchanged. Repeated reviews also allow hypotheses to evolve as the data become more familiar.

Finally, tape recordings are a more reliable source of data than are either hypothetical examples or recalled utterances. As was demonstrated in some of the studies cited in Chapter 2, what people say they do with words often contradicts their actual performance. Furthermore, utterances recalled in retrospect frequently paraphrase, generalize, or abstract the content and form of interactions, such that finer details, such as back-channel features, are usually omitted. Without these details, the overall organization and collaborative nature of conversations is less likely to be revealed.

3.2.2 The importance of telephone conversations

Hopper (1992) has pointed out the importance of telephone conversations to our public and private everyday lives. The rapid development of superior technology in the

'For privacy reasons, the tape recordings in the present study were shared only with the investigator’s advisors and with two native speaker informants who assisted in transcription.

137 last century has significantly improved the quality of voice transmission by telephone, and the instrument is now an indispensable tool. Its ring is a “summons” which is difficult to ignore. In CA terms, Schegloff (1968/1972) has argued that the ring represents the first- turn of a summons-answer adjacency pair. As a result, the first turn in which something is actually uttered (e.g., “Hello?”) in fact represents the second move in the interaction.-

Moreover, at least until the age of telex, facsimile, and electronic mail transmissions, the telephone’s convenience and practicality have been unsurpassed.

Referring to telephone speaking as “a primary activity of contemporary living,”^ Hopper notes that:

Part of the telephone’s practical significance is that it extends occasions for speaking. Using the telephone each of us can speak across distances, across social barriers, across barriers to mobility. Telephone conversation has occupied breadbasket provinces of our semiotic lives. Its acoustic images knead our consciousness. Therefore the consequences of failing to understand the details of telephone speaking grow in importance. To describe telephone conversation is to understand ourselves better. ( 1992:1- 2)

The importance of the telephone to business has been expressed by Gamer (1984:23) as follows:

Telephones are the only equipment that are found in nearly every business. A store may not have typewriters, but it has telephones. An office may not have cash registers, but it has telephones. A factory may have neither typewriters nor cash registers, but it has telephones. It has been estimated that telephones are used at some point in at least 90 percent of all business transactions.

-See Levinson (1983:309ft) for more details on the subject of conversational organization in telephone calls. ^Hopper ( 1992:1 ). See Rutter ( 1987) and Short et al. (1976) for experimental studies comparing face-to- face versus “sound-only” talk.

138 Although Gamer is referring to telephone use in the United States, it is likely that usage is comparable in Japan/

3.3 Data collection: Audio and video tape recordings

3.3.1 Audio tape recordings

3.3.1.1 Methodology and locations

With the assistance of several native speaker informants, I recorded a total of 100 hours of telephone conversations of staff members employed at three commercial and three educational establishments in the Kanto and Kansai regions of Japan over a period of several months in 1994 and 1995. Of this corpus, excerpts from 20 hours of recordings from one Tokyo company and 30 hours from one Kobe company have been transcribed and analyzed as examples of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations. (For information regarding transcription conventions and notation, please see pages xvii-xxi.)

In each location, one or more tape recorders were connected directly to the incoming telephone line through the use of a special adapter; this produced extremely clean recordings free of background noise. Tape recorders were placed below employees’ desks or out of sight in order to encourage as much natural language use as possible.

Native speaker informants, who were employees of the companies being studied, assisted in the recording process by inserting and replacing tapes when necessary, at times when they would not be observed by participating subjects. At all but one location, recording continued for at least two months, by which time subjects reported that they had forgotten about the presence of the tape recorder.^

'^Figures for this type o f usage were not available through Nippon Telephone and Telegraph. ^Hopper (1992:225, fn8) notes that the findings of Wiemann (1981) support this tendency generally.

139 3.3.1.2 Subjects

Subjects who agreed to participate were told that the recording was for linguistic analysis only and that they would remain anonymous, although certain ethnographic information as to the sex, approximate age, and linguistic background (i.e., where the subjects were bom, brought up, whether they had been abroad and for how long) was obtained in most cases. A total of 15 men and 22 women between the ages of 20 and 60 agreed to participate, the majority being in their 20s and 30s.^ If we consider that the recorded conversations are with countless other people from outside organizations, the resulting data in fact represent a much more far-reaching population.

3.3.2 Video tape recordings

Since many of the audio tape recordings were of relatively formal, business- related conversations, I also collected over 100 hours of video tape recordings of

Japanese television dramas which focus on family life and young people in order to obtain a wider variety of both formal and informal social occasions and interactions. Due to the decision to focus more narrowly on business telephone transactions in this study, however, these data will not be treated here.

3.4 The genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations

As was briefly discussed in Chapter 1 and in the introduction to this chapter,

Bakhtin’s notion of speech genres will be used as an heuristic to explore and explain certain characteristics of a group of interactions chosen for analysis in this study. There are two purposes in doing so. The first is to point out the advantages, for pedagogical

®0f this group, 14 women and 3 men were the subjects recorded at the Tokyo and Kobe companies described in this paper. See Appendices A and B for a list of these participants, their Job descriptions, and biographical information.

140 purposes, in grouping spoken texts as models according to similarities in compositional structure, participant expectations and roles, stylistic conventions, and thematic content.

The second is to provide a “thick description” (Geertz 1973) of a small number of conversations as they occur in particular contexts, and which share these characteristics.

In the following sections of this chapter, I will elaborate more fully on Bakhtin’s notion of genre, and will also present some perspectives on genre, register and style that have been suggested by other researchers in order to point out some of the ways in which these notions can enrich our understanding of both speaker behavior and the organization of conversation.

Although the scope of the present study will be limited to the reporting of problems and offers of assistance in business transactional telephone conversations, it is hoped that this method of analysis will provide a model for further explorations in related genres, so that ultimately we might compare and contrast verbal behavior across genres.

3.4.1 Defining genre

In Chapter 1 we briefly discussed Bakhtin’s definition of speech genres, noting that they represent the confluence of particular forms of utterances with a particular theme. style(s), and context:

A speech genre is not a form of language, but a typical form of utterance....Genres correspond to typical situations of speech communication, typical themes, and, consequently, also to particular contacts between the meanings of words and actual concrete reality under certain typical circumstances. (Bakhtin 1986:87).

The notion of utterance in Bakhtin’s definition refers to “a real unit, clearly delimited by the change of speaking subjects, which ends by relinquishing the floor to the other, as if with a silent dixi, perceived by the listeners (as a sign) that the speaker has finished”

(Ibid:71-2). As such, it is a complete thought or expression of intention, grounded in

141 actual reality. It differs from the sentence, whose boundaries Bakhtin notes “are never

determined by a change of speaking subjects,” and moreover “is not correlated directly or

personally with the extraverbal context of reality (situation, setting, pre-history) or with

the utterances of other speakers” (Ibid;73). The utterance is thus a unit of purposeful

speech communication, whereas the sentence is a grammatical unit.

Bakhtin conceived of speech genres as organic entities which, in his words,

“differentiate and grow as the particular sphere [of social activity] develops and becomes more complex” (Bakhtin 1986:60). As such, they have “fuzzy edges.” In a parallel sense,

Morson and Emerson note (1990:292):

As individuals and cultures acquire a larger set of activities or a wider compass of experience, their repertoire of genres grows. Taken as a whole, then, a culture’s speech genres tend toward heterogeneity [and open-endedness] and form anything but a system, (insert mine)

The notion of speech genres thus has significant consequences for the ontogeny and phylogeny of languages.^ An individual’s communicative competence is commensurate with his/her knowledge of speech genres, and the linguistic resources of a language at a certain point in time may be characterized by the vast array of speech genres in that language at that time. We observed in the Chapter 1 that the “real work” of performing genres is done by speakers, and on each occasion or enactment of a generic activity, the intersection of situational factors with the speaker’s intentions and goals, as well as thematic content, results in slightly different but nevertheless parallel stylistic choices and unique (“unrepeatable,” to Bakhtin) utterances. This process breathes new life into an older form. But the process of enacting these activities or language-games is neither random nor script-like; rather, speakers are guided in their performances of speech genres

^Charles J. Quinn, personal communication.

142 by their previous experiences in those genres, as well as by the generic constraints which

accompany them. That is, with increasing experience in a genre of activity, speakers

develop intuitions and expectations which help them to perform future enactments on

future occasions. These enactments will share certain commonalities of features in terms

of structure, theme, and style, yet every enactment of a genre will have its own unique

qualities. Over time then, people, and genres, “accumulate experience” (Morson and

Emerson 1990:292).

One of the ways in which genres can expand and grow is through their combination with each other. Bakhtin recognized two types of genres—primary and secondary— and he argued that primary genres can “knit together” (much like bones) and

form new, secondary genres (Ibid:293). Thus we find that groups of utterances, which

we might call sub-genres, come together to form larger, overarching genres. This is the idea adopted in the present study; specifically, it is argued that the texts we are examining contain numerous instances of problem reports (one type of utterance and sub-genre), as well as offers of assistance (another type of utterance and sub-genre), which co-occur within the larger generic frame of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations.

3.4.2 Other definitions of genre

Martin ( 1985:250) has defined genres in such a way that suggests he is referring to the larger secondary genres of the sort we have just described, rather than the primary genres which are limited to the span of discourse which occurs between a change in speakers:

Genres are how things get done, when language is used to accomplish them. They range from literary to far from literary forms: poems, narratives, expositions, lectures, seminars, recipes, manuals, appointment making, service encounters, news broadcasts, and so on. The term genre

143 is used here to embrace each of the linguistically realized activity types which comprise so much of our culture.

At first glance, Martin’s emphasis in this definition on accomplishing things through language would seem to parallel Austin’s (1962) point about the performative uses of language and Searle’s observations about speech acts. However, explaining why an activity is representative of a certain genre is quite a different endeavor from classi^ing an utterance (in the traditional pragmatic sense of the word) as a particular speech act.

To begin with, activities such as those mentioned by Martin consist of much longer stretches of discourse than the single utterance, and each has its own internal structure. As Martin notes, genres and discourse structure are inherently intertwined:

All genres have a beginning-middle-end structure of some kind; these structures will be referred to here as schematic structures (equivalent to Hasan’s 1977; 1980 generalized text structures). Schematic structure represents the positive contribution genre makes to a text: a way of getting from A to B in the way a given culture accomplishes whatever the genre in question is functioning to do in that culture. (Martin 1985:251)

Martin’s definition of genres is not incompatible with Bakhtin’s notion of secondary speech genres; indeed, it complements it well for our present purposes. Because his definition specifies elements of “beginning” “middle” and “end,” as well as the notion of

“a way of getting from A to B in the way a given culture accomplishes whatever the genre in question is functioning to do in that culture,” it provides a very apt description of the language-game of JBTCs that we have have been seeking to explicate. In particular, the idea of “getting from A to B” in a culturally nuanced manner fits well with the focal interaction we will be describing in Chapter 6, which is the process of moving from the reporting of a problem to getting that problem closer to its resolution.

Ventola (1987:22) has similarly commented on the way in which generic activities involve a stage-like progression:

144 ...social encounters also have their specific ways of unfolding and...this unfolding may specifically influence the way linguistic patterns are manifested differently at each stage, when the discourse unfolds.... We not only recognize social encounter types, but within these types there are also ‘typical ways’ of unfolding the social activity in question. Thus, our interest is not only in differentiating between the types on the basis of the formal qualities, but also in ‘the linguistic progression of the social activity’ within one type, i.e. how language is used at each stage when the unfolding of the social process is manifested in instances which belong to the same type of social encounters. (Ventola 1987:23; emphasis mine)

Ventola’s definition of genres also brings to light another aspect of genres which we have

not yet emphasized, which it the idea that genres are socially sanctioned ways of getting

things done.*

A second point to mention in response to Martin’s definition of genre presented

above is that, as he suggests, the structure of a given genre will most likely reflect the

larger culture within which it has developed.^ This aspect of Martin’s definition

distinguishes his perspective sharply from that of Levinson (1992), whose discussion of

“activity types” does not seem to have taken the issue of cultural differences into

account. Levinson claims, for example, that “A very good idea of the kind of language

usage likely to be found within a given activity can...be predicted simply by knowing

what the main function of the activity is seen to be by participants” (1992:98). Yet we

have discussed in this chapter and Chapter 1 how important the role of experience is in

both the development of genres themselves and also in the acquisition of genres by

members of a given speech community. Mere knowledge of the function of the activity

(particularly on one single occasion) is not sufficient in order to acquire the intuitions

necessary to perform it.

*Ibid. ^Martin and Rothery (1986:243) have put this another way, stating that genre “refers to the staged purposeful social processes through which a culture is realized in a language.” ‘°See Quinn (1996) for a more detailed discussion of this issue.

145 One would think that the way in which speakers go about reaching particular goals

in various cultures also might differ, but Levinson argues that “all the details of constraints on language usage within each activity need not be taught to the foreign- language learner, or incorporated into a language-understanding program; it will suffice to specify the general goals and any special unpredictable constraints” (Ibid.). However, as we saw in Chapter 1 in the discussion of differences in the restaurant service encounter genre between Japan and the United States, there are both linguistic and non-linguistic aspects to genres which may be culturally-based or at least culturally influenced.

Presenting students with a mere cataloguing of “special unpredictable constraints” as they encounter a new genre in a foreign language will not prove to be sufficient method of ensuring their pragmatic success in the language; rather, it is essential that students have opportunities to observe and rehearse these language-games with feedback from their instructors.

Finally, genres are constantly evolving and are fundamentally open-ended in nature. As Miller (1984:163) has noted, “genres change, evolve, and decay; the number of genres current in any society is indeterminate and depends upon the complexity and diversity of any society.” As people, languages and societies change, so do the social genres they practice. In the present study, we are considering the primary genres of problem reporting and resolution through the medium of telephone calls in certain

Japanese business contexts. Given the swift changes brought about in the business arena by technological advances such as facsimiles, electronic mail, and the World Wide Web, we might imagine that in the not-too-distant future customers might be going on-line to report their problems, rather than picking up the telephone. This does not necessarily mean that an entirely new genre will (or must) come into being to deal with such a shift; rather, given the inherently flexible nature of genres, we might anticipate that only certain

146 aspects of the process by which problems are reported might be adapted to the new medium. The changes would be similar to those which occurred when people began to use e-mail in lieu of the telephone, i.e., information would be transmitted in writing instead of orally.

We have in fact already observed one example which illustrates the flexible nature of genres, and that is the conversation presented in Chapter 1 which began with the push button-activated menu sequence in the telephone call between Kansai Imports and

Worldwide Bank (this appears in Appendix F). Recent advances in telephone technology have enabled companies to route telephone calls by computer rather than by the more traditional manner in which callers would make their requests for a department through an operator or other company employee. Despite such technical changes, however, the purpose of the telephone call remains the same; moreover, callers are essentially following the same procedure or structure, albeit through a different channel.

In the present analysis, therefore, a genre is considered to be more than a set of discrete vocabulary words, phrases, or other features used repeatedly on certain occasions. Rather, it is much like Bourdieu’s notion of habitus, or ‘lived habit.’ By referring to a particular genre in this way, we can move away from the concrete, reified idea of Levinson’s ‘activity types,’ which would appear to unnecessarily consign behavior to an unchangeable pattern which can be readily learned and which can be applied without modification or practice cross-culturally, and instead move toward a more flexible approach which would envision genres as sets or groups of behavioral and linguistic dispositions which both native and non-native speakers of a given language acquire through experience and which can adapt to changes in the environment over time.

In other words, this is an organic, dynamic approach, as opposed to one that is static.

Considering genre as ‘lived habit’ also allows us to account for the fact that human beings

147 often modify their behavior in subsequent enactments or performances of the same or

similar activity. A particular genre thus takes on meaning according to the linguistic and cultural setting in which it is situated, and will also have certain characteristics which reflect the medium or channel through which it is enacted.

According to Threadgold (1989:108), “Genres are both ‘products’ and

‘processes’— ’systems’ and ‘performances’.’’ He notes.

Each time a text is produced, so as to realize and construct a situation-type, it becomes the model for another text and another situation-type. As a model, it functions like a static, finished, product...according to which new texts can be constructed. Once the constructing begins it becomes again a dynamic process, a ‘performance’ which will inevitably change the model with which it begins. This means that we have to teach the interpersonal and textual characteristic of genres, the probabilistic, dynamic aspects of their performance as well as their schematic structures. (Ibid.)

In the present investigation, for example, we are concerned with the ways in which Japanese report problems and seek their resolution on the telephone. We certainly would not and should not expect each and every problem-related conversation on the telephone to proceed in an identical fashion or to have a finite set of features which must always be present in order for a given performance of an activity to be judged by the analyst or a member of the base culture as being representative of the genre. Rather, there is likely to be a cluster of features—linguistic, cultural, and channel-related—which, when taken together, would help to identify a given performance as being part of that genre. Some of the characteristics of one genre might of course overlap with those of other genres. For example, a business transactional telephone call will share certain family resemblances with a personal telephone call, such as an opening section which would include self-identification and greetings, a transitional section into the main topic or topics to be discussed, and a closing section which might include expressions of leave-taking.

148 Nevertheless, there will also be certain aspects of a business call which set it apart from

personal calls, such as register features; we will explore these briefly in the next section

and in more detail in Chapter 5.

3.4.3 Genre, register, and style

We have mentioned that individual enactments of genre share more or less common compositional or structural characteristics. Part of the reason that a genre has such discourse structure is because it is performed as people pursue goals. In this connection, Bakhtin notes that

A particular function (scientific, technical, commentarial, business, everyday) and the particular conditions of speech communication specific for each sphere give rise to particular genres, that is, certain relatively stable thematic, compositional, and stylistic types of utterances. (1986:64; emphasis mine)

It is primarily this functional aspect of genres and their consequent structure which separate them from registers, which we may define as the varieties of language use specific to certain spheres of speech communication. Recalling the observation cited in

Chapter 1 by Morson and Emerson (1990:292) about the “enormous amount of unformalized cognitive content” which is associated with every speech genre, we may note that registers lack the sets of values, ways of thinking about kinds of experience, as well as intuitions about preferred moves and situational appropriateness which are all implied by speech genres.

Registers also lack an internal discourse structure and dynamic. Couture has noted that “registers impose constraints at the linguistic levels of vocabulary and syntax, whereas genre constraints operate at the level of discourse structure.”' ' She argues that

* 'As paraphrased in Swales (1990:41).

149 “Unlike register, genre can only be realized in completed texts or texts that can be

projected as complete, for a genre does more than specify kinds of codes extant in a group of related texts; it specifies conditions for beginning, continuing, and ending a text."^-

It is precisely these specifications which I seek to describe in the genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations, which indeed have distinct openings, developments, and closings.

Zwicky and Zwicky (1982:215) have suggested that we might consider registers in terms of a continuum, with certain registers exhibiting paradigmatic associations on one end (e.g. baby talk, newspaper headlines and recipes) and more loosely defined registers such as the language of football or politics on the other end.

Apart from genres and registers, we may also distinguish styles, which are varieties of language

associated with the relationships between speakers and their interlocutors or audiences: the dimensions of intimacy/distance, casualness/formality, deference/dominance, peremptoriness/politeness, attention/inattention, and perhaps others. (Zwicky and Zwicky 1982:214)

Zwicky and Zwicky have presented these styles as dimensions, and in many cases in

English, at least, utterances do indeed vary widely from one another in terms of the degree to which they illustrate a particular style. That is, some utterances will appear closer to one endpoint or other on a continuum, while others may be classified somewhere in between.*^

'-Couture (1986:82; emphasis mine). A “text” in this sense simply refers to a bounded stretch of connected linguistic activity. '^It is not clear in Zwicky and Zwicky's discussion of styles whether or not they are attempting to claim that their characterization applies to all languages universally.

150 In Japanese, there are also some cases in which the difference between two styles can be represented as a continuum; one example is the casual/careful dim ension.Jorden

(1987:197) has characterized this as follows:

Casual speech is marked by the frequent use of fragments without predicates, particular vocabulary items (like n ‘yeah’), many contractions, and direct-style inflected forms. Careful speech has fewer fragments without predicates and more major sentences, particular formal vocabulary items, fewer contractions, and more distal-style inflected forms (i.e., - masu/desu forms) at least in sentence-final predicates....Clearly, casual and careful styles are not absolutes: they represent a range from maximally casual to maximally careful, with countless degrees in between.

As opposed to such continua, there are also stylistic contrasts in Japanese, in which the choice between one form or the other is paradigmatic and precise. We have in fact already noted several examples of such stylistic contrasts through our discussion of the Japanese data; one is the contrast between distal and direct style (which is sometimes also characterized as “formal/informal” or desit/-masu). Distal style is a term Jorden

(1987) has used in order to indicate a style of speech adopted by speakers who maintain a degree of linguistic distance and display a degree of deference and solicitude toward their addressees (such as colleagues or acquaintances), and/or toward the topic of discussion.

Distal style is contrasted with direct style, which refers to a variety of speech usually adopted by speakers in more informal contexts, toward close friends or intimates. The use of these styles is not necessarily reciprocal; for example, a superior may address a subordinate using direct style, but the subordinate would probably adopt distal style.

A second example of a stylistic contrast in Japanese which is influenced by the relationship between the speaker and addressee is the choice between a neutral-polite style

'“'Other examples are the gentle/blunt and feminine/masculine dimensions. Although these two may be discussed separately, the latter actually represent the maximal endpoints of a continuum which subsumes the former dimension.

151 or plain utterance. An example of this contrast from everyday conversation is the Japanese equivalent for ‘Good morning,’ which may appear as the distal, neutral-polite, careful style utterance Ohayoo gozaimasu (+), or the plain, casual style utterance Ohayoo. A speaker would use former to acquaintances, colleagues, and the like, while s/he would adopt the latter among friends. Just as was the case with the distal/direct style contrast, the speaker-addressee relationship which governs the neutral-polite/plain (or more generally, the polite/plain) contrast is not necessarily reciprocal.

It is important to note, however, that it is not always merely the relationship between the speaker and interlocutor which determines a stylistic choice in Japanese. As we emphasized in Chapter 2, at any point in Japanese conversation, the deictic anchor point is not the Ego or self but rather the uti or in-group, which minimally consists of the speaker. Certain stylistic (and other linguistic) distinctions therefore index uti/soto (in group/out-group) relationships. One such example is the contrast between honorific politeness and humble politeness, which is based on the relationship between the speaker and/or the speaker’s uti with the referent of the utterance. As Wetzel (1994:83) has noted,

“Honorific forms encode an implicit reference to soto or ‘out-group’, and humble forms encode an implicit reference to uti or ‘in-group’.”

One last point which must be emphasized with regard to these styles is the fact that it is not possible to assume a “neutral” stance in Japanese; one must always choose one style or the other within each of the sets of stylistic contrasts (distal/direct, polite/plain, and if polite is chosen, then honorific-polite/humble-polite). According to the choices one makes among these contrasts, one’s utterance can then be characterized as careful or casual. This means that a given utterance may be assigned more than one stylistic label— as was the case with the distal, neutral-polite, careful style utterance Ohayoo gozaimasu

(-h) which we considered above.

152 We can illustrate the honorific/humble polite contrast, as well as the differences we have now identified among styles, registers, and genres more generally, through the following example from the data (the complete text appears in Appendix I):

(3-1) 1 A: Hai, Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu:. ACK Kansai Imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: Most most? Hello

‘Hello?’

3 A: Hai! ACK

‘Yes!’

4 C: A, sumimasen, ano: Watanabe-san wa irassyaimasu desyoo ka. oh be sorry-ipf HES Ms. Watanabe TOP be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Oh, I’m sorry, um, is Ms. Watanabe there?’

5 A: Hai, orimasu, syoosyoo omati kudasai// ACK be-ipf (-1) moment waiting (T) give to in-group-imp (-»)(T)

‘Yes, (she) is, please wait a moment.’

6 C; Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

7 A: —A, situree desu ga, dotira-sama desu// ka. oh rudeness CP-ipf but which person (+) CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, excuse (me), but who is this?’

8 C: Hai, ano Nakayama to moosimasu:. ACK HES Nakayama QT be called-ipf (>l)

‘Yes, um, (I)’m Nakayama.’

153 9 A: Hai, syoosyoo omati kudasai/Zmase. ACK moment waiting (T) give to in-group-imp (T)

‘Yes, please wait a moment.’

In opening section of this example, a female operations staff member of Kansai

Imports answers the telephone and identifies herself by giving her company affiliation; the caller merely says “Hello?” in response. Each of these are register features which also function as contextualization cues. The first signals a formal, possibly business-related conversation, while the second would immediately signal to the call recipient that the caller may not be phoning in the capacity of a representative from an outside organization, but rather is making a personal call. As we saw in the examples of JBTCs in previous chapters, service providers regularly identified themselves by providing their company affiliation to the call recipient following the latter’s self-identification.

Since the caller has not provided that company affiliation, it is not possible (nor pragmatically appropriate) for the call recipient to utter a business salutation, so she merely provides a go-ahead (Hail) in line 3. The caller then asks politely if Ms. Watanabe is in. The form of the predicate in her utterance {irassyaimasu desyoo ka?) indicates an extremely careful style which is often adopted in business and very formal contexts; not only is irassyaimasu distal style, but also the tentative form of the copula, desyoo.

Moreover, the speaker’s use of the honorific-polite (T) verbal irassyaimasu, in lieu of the plain style imasu, indexes her relationship at this moment to the referent— Ms.

Watanabe—rather than to the addressee. As noted earlier, the honorific form encodes an implicit reference to soto, the out-group, so the caller is indicating a group division between herself and Watanabe.

In line 5, the call recipient indicates that Ms. Watanabe is in by saying Hai, orimasu. Orimasu is the humble-polite (1) equivalent of imasu, so by adopting this

154 form, the call recipient is referring to Watanabe as a member of her own uti. But in her next utterance, syoosyoo omati kudasai, she has shifted her reference to the caller, in order to ask that she wait a moment. She thus adopts the honorific-polite style for this utterance, which indexes a group division between herself and the caller. The call recipient is also maintaining a certain degree of social distance between herself and the caller through her use of the distal style (indicated by the morpheme l-mas-l in orimasu).

In line 7, seemingly as an afterthought, or perhaps due to the fact that the caller still has not introduced herself, the call recipient prompts her to do so. The polite way in which she does this is typical of formal encounters, both on the telephone and face-to- face; the form dotira-sama, which literally means ‘a person from which place’, is less specific and thereby considered more polite than either donata or dare ‘who ’. Moreover, the prefatory remark Situree desu ga seeks to minimize the negative face threat inherent in the inquiry. Often in Japanese business contexts (both face-to-face and on the telephone), this query is abbreviated to Situree desu ga.... The result (another register feature, this time of business conversations) is somewhat comparable in both tone and function to the phrases ‘And you are...?’ and ‘And this is...?’ which appear to have gained some currency in English-speaking business contexts of late.

In line 9, the caller finally identifies herself by her last name (rather than company affiliation alone or company affiliation plus the name). Because she herself is the referent of this utterance, she adopts the humble-polite moosimasu, and because she is addressing a member of the out-group whom she does not know well, she maintains the distal -masu ending for the predicate.

There are two other observations we may make here regarding the style of these participants’ utterances. The first concems the call recipient’s use of the distal, neutral- polite form de gozaimasu in line 1. In picking up the telephone, the call recipient does not

155 know to whom s/he will be speaking during the first moments of the conversation; the caller could potentially be a friend, subordinate, superior, or stranger. As a result, she chooses the neutral polite form for her response, thereby adopting a careful style overall.

The other likely alternative here would be the plain style equivalent of the copula {desu).

In either case, the choice of the style (neutral-polite or plain) is influenced by the relationship of the speaker to his/her (potential) addressee, much in the same way that one chooses between distal and direct style.

The second stylistic observation concems the call recipient’s last utterance in line

10. If we compare her request for the caller to wait in this line with her request in line 5, we note that the speaker has added the distal imperative morpheme l-masel to the later utterance. There are various possible reasons for this, but it is likely that this was motivated by the fact that the utterance in line 10 constitutes part of the outer frame of this conversation. Often the initiating and concluding utterances in a conversation will be more formal and ritual in nature than those within the body of that conversation; the contrast is most striking when participants are well-acquainted, such that there is a shift from distal to direct style forms, and perhaps even a shift from polite to plain forms as well. This was well documented in the data for this study (see, for example, the opening section of the conversation in Appendix J).

This brings us to the other purpose for presenting the conversation in (3-1 ), and that is to summarize the differences between styles, registers and genres. First, we have seen that stylistic choices in Japanese do not just reflect the relationship or social distance between a speaker and his/her a d d r e s s e e . In the case of the honorific-/humble-polite contrast, for example, what is germane to the choice is the relationship between the

'^The situation in Japanese therefore contradicts the generalization presented by Zwicky and Zwicky regarding stylistic continua (1982:214) above.

156 speaker and the referent of the utterance at the moment.’^ Example (3-1) illustrates how references to the same person were made by different participants in the conversation using different styles; the caller (an out-group member to employees of Kansai Imports) refers to Ms. Watanabe (an employee of Kansai Imports) using honorific-polite style, while the call recipient (an employee of Kansai Imports) uses humble-polite style to refer to her colleague. In the case of the distal/direct and the neutral-polite/plain contrasts, however, the selection is dictated by the degree of distance which the speaker chooses to place between him/herself and the addressee.

Secondly, we have claimed that registers represent a variety of language use. Had the caller introduced herself as a representative or service provider of a company, she and the call recipient at Kansai Imports would most likely have exchanged salutations (e.g.

Osewa ni natte-imasii). This particular utterance constitutes a contextualization cue in telephone and face-to-face business conversations.

Halliday’s notion of the Context of Situation (CoS) can be useful here in order to represent the confluence of situational factors affecting the register(s) used in a particular interaction.'7 As described by Halliday and Hasan (1985), CoS consists of the following three features:

(a) The FIELD of discourse, which addresses the questions, ‘What social action is taking place?’ and ‘How does where we are (i.e., the physical location of the participants) impact on what social action is taking place?’

■^Because English has few, if any cases in which the relationship between the speaker and thereferent (as opposed to the addressee) is grammatically encoded, this aspect of the politeness system in Japanese often presents problems for English native speakers. *^The term ‘Context of Situation’ was actually first coined by Malinowski (1923) and was developed more fully by other scholars such as Firth (1935, 1950) and Hymes (1967). (References are as cited in Halliday and Hasan 1985.)

157 (b) The TENOR of discourse, which addresses the questions, Ts there a

socially defined role relationship that applies to the participants while they are engaged in

this social action?’ and ‘What is the interpersonal relationship between the participants?’

action appear in written or spoken form?’ and ‘What channel is used to communicate the

social action?’ Examples of channel are telephone, letter, face-to-face communication, and

so forth.

If we consider the three CoS factors with respect to the conversation in (3-1 ), for example, we may conclude that the FIELD is a situation in which, at least in the opening section we have presented, the social action involves requesting to speak with another person. Moreover, the fact that the caller uses Mosimosi? in her first utterance suggests that this will be a personal, rather than business conversation, and this will have an impact on the register features used throughout the call (for example, the participants do not exchange business salutations in the opening section, as they might in a business conversation).

As for the TENOR of the discourse, these participants do not have a regular role relationship with each other (e.g., service provider and service recipient); all that we may say is that they are presently speaking to each other as call recipient and caller, and further that the caller’s goals are personal (to speak with an acquaintance) rather than business- related (e.g., to report a transaction-related problem). In addition, it is clear that the participants do not know each other, since the call recipient asks the caller to identify herself in line 7. This influences the style of the conversation; the participants choose distal style, polite predicates, which when taken together convey the impression of a careful (as opposed to casual) style conversation.

158 Finally, in terms of the MODE of the discourse, this is clearly a spoken conversation, which takes place through the medium or channel of the telephone. This has certain consequences for the amount of information which must be specified verbally, instead of through non-verbal gestures or actions as would be the case in face-to-face conversations.

While Halliday’s CoS features are useful in presenting variables which influence the register and even style of a conversation, there are other factors which we must take into consideration together with these features in order to determine the genre of a conversation. These include thematic content, overall structure, and participant expectations and values which are shaped through the role relationships obtaining in the conversation. Genre is thus the most broad, overarching category which subsumes that of register and style.

3.4.4 Using the notion of genre as an heuristic for language pedagogy

The notion of genre may be used to advantage in second language teaching, for it may be adopted as a heuristic to explicate the interaction of language and context through the introduction of sets of discourses with shared communicative functions, particular yet similar goals, and the possibility of co-occurring but varied participant expectations.

Conversation is often a goal-oriented activity, and conversationalists often employ different means toward achieving their goals. While it is of course impossible to produce an exact, invariant script or template of the way in which conversations of a certain type unfold, we should be able to capture the underlying similarities and differences through the notion of genre. By developing a flexible approach in our analysis, we may account for cases that represent what we might call a ’canonical form’ of a particular genre, which

159 includes the sorts of steps that are customarily undertaken, as well as those which might be optional in the majority of actual enactments.

Especially relevant to foreign language pedagogy is the fact that the notions of both genre and register can reflect what Gregory and Carroll describe as the “individual capacity ‘to mean,’” as well as the experience of the individual:

Register as text variety is ‘embedded’ in situation. It reflects individual experience and therefore the individual capacity ‘to mean’. Register reflects both the on-going activity of the situation in which the text belongs [i.e., the genre] but also the previous experiences of the individual. Control of several registers and the ability to shift from one to another is implied in good social behaviour. But control of a range of different registers results from experiencing different kinds of situations demanding di&rent kinds of behaviour (1978:73).

This notion of the “previous experiences of the individual” is critical in the case of second language learners. As the literature in the fields of cross-cultural pragmatics, contrastive pragmatics, and interlanguage pragmatics has shown, it is often difficult for learners to shed the pragmatic expectations of their native language when performing in the target language.** If learners’ experiences with the target language, either in the classroom or in the target culture, are limited in terms of exposure to native models of various register types and features of genres, then it is of course not surprising that they encounter what

Thomas (1983, 1984) has called “cross-cultural pragmatic failure.”'^ In Walker’s words,

“What we know has everything to do with how we come to know it.”-°

**For studies on cross-cultural pragmatics, see Thomas (1983, 1984). Regarding contrastive pragmatics, see Littlewood (1983), Fillmore (1984), and the numerous studies in Oleksy (1989), some of which are actually classified as “interlanguage pragmatics." Research in the field of interlanguage pragmatics includes House and Kasper (1987) and Blum-Kulka (1982). * ^Thomas actually makes a distinction between what she calls “pragmalinguistic failure,” and “sociopragmatic failure.” In Thomas (1984) she defines pragmalinguistic failure as “the inappropriate transfer of speech act strategies from L 1 to L2, or transferring from L 1 to L2 expressions which are semantically or syntactically equivalent, but which have a different ‘interpretative bias.’” She defines sociopragmatic failure as the “mismatches which arise from cross-culturally different assessments within the social parameters affecting linguistic choice: size of imposition’, ‘social distance between speaker and

160 The conception of genre and register espoused by Martin (1985) and Ventola

(1987), in conjunction with Bakhtin’s view of genre, is especially attractive for the purposes of language pedagogy because it allows for both a dynamic view of “text as process” and a static, “synoptic” view of “text as product.” Their dynamic view of text also supports an open-ended account of genres—something that is essential if we are to account for the inevitable shifts in language use from situation to situation and over time.

3.4.5 Yamada (1992): Applying genre to the second language classroom

Yamada (1992) has examined the structure of service encounters in two recordings of spoken interactions at a duty-free store in Australia for comparative purposes with the stage-like elements of a flow chart which Ventola (1987) developed.

The first interaction she examined took place between a Japanese clerk and a Japanese customer; the second was between an Australian clerk and a Japanese customer. Both interactions were in Japanese; the clerk in the second interaction had studied Japanese for two years. Comparing the behavior of the clerks in the two interactions, Yamada concluded that in addition to problems with grammar and specialized vocabulary, the

Australian clerk also encountered difficulties in introducing new topics, understanding signals of topic shift, and advancing the discourse through cooperation with the customer.

Noting that students are not likely to learn such discourse strategies when language pedagogy focuses on sentence patterns alone, Yamada underscored the need for teachers to provide guidance at the level of discourse beginning with the earlv stages of the language curriculum in order to emphasize to learners the importance of the notion that

hearer’, relative rights and obligations, etc.” Thomas’ distinction appears to be based on an earlier distinction made by Leech ( 1983:11 ) between pragmalinguistics and sociopragmatics. -°A s quoted in Quinn 1996:13.

161 conversation proceeds as a cooperative endeavor between participants. Research conducted by Tanaka (1983), Szatrowski (1986a, 1986b, 1987), andT. Okazaki (1987) has produced similar conclusions. We will return to this discussion in more detail in

Chapter 7 when we take up the pedagogical implications of this investigation.

3.4.6 Conclusions

In the beginning of this chapter we presented the rationale for using an ethnographic methodology in this study, arguing that the use of tape recordings of telephone conversations enables the investigator to minimize the effects of the ‘observer’s paradox,’ allows us to examine and repeatedly review conversations in their entirety in precisely the same form on each occasion, and provides a source of data which reflects the finer details of conversational interactions such as back-channel features which are usually absent in recalled or hypothetical examples. Moreover, recorded data are not the product of speaker reflection, but are rather the actual utterances produced by speakers in particular contexts on particular occasions. Finally, telephone conversations represent a significant aspect of speakers’ everyday lives, particularly in the world of business.

Following a summary of the details relating to data collection, a more detailed account of Bakhtin’s notion of speech genres was presented and considered in conjunction with several other definitions of genre which have been proposed by other scholars. We noted that Bakhtin’s definition of genre depends upon his definition of the utterance as a complete thought or expression of intention, grounded in reality and bounded by a change in speakers. These utterances or primary genres are dynamic entities which can adapt to changes in speaker behavior within a given activity and as such have fuzzy edges. Moreover, due to the vast number of activities in a given culture, the number of primary genres in a given language is potentially infinite. As speakers combine utterances within conversational exchanges for particular purposes, complex genres

162 emerge which reflect speaker goals and exhibit a particular constellation of thematic content, stylistic choices, and compositional structure. In the present study, we are proposing that the texts under consideration represent one such complex genre which we may call Japanese business transactional telephone conversations, and within that genre we have identified two sub-genres, namely problem reports and offers of assistance.

Martin’s ( 1985) definition of genre, which refers to “a way of getting from A to B in the way a given culture accomplishes whatever the genre in question is functioning to do in that culture,” was contrasted with Levinson’s (1992) notion of activity types, and it was argued that the latter’s focus on the mere function of a given activity overlooks the fact that there are certain linguistic and non-linguistic aspects to genres which may be culturally-based or at least culturally influenced. Moreover, it does not account for important factors such as the intuitions and expectations which speakers develop through experience in performing a given genre of activity. Both of these are of critical importance to language pedagogy. Our proposed approach therefore considers genre to be a form of

‘lived habit,’ a set of linguistic dispositions which both native and non-native speakers of a given language acquire through experience and which can adapt to changes in the environment over time. As such, a genre is far more than the sum of its parts (i.e., more than a discrete set of vocabulary words, phrases, or other features used repeatedly on certain occasions). Each enactment of a genre will take on the color of the particular linguistic and cultural context in which it is performed, which means that every individual performance of a genre is unique.

The notions of genre, register, and style were also compared with reference to a sample conversation in order to illustrate the differences among these concepts. Genres were shown to have a particular functional purpose and discourse structure not shared by registers, which are a particular variety of language with constraints in terms of

163 vocabulary and syntax. A given register may appear in a variety of genres (for example, the language of football could appear in a casual conversation or in a sports broadcast), but need not represent a complete text. Styles, on the other hand, are varieties of language which are associated with relationships among speakers; examples which were considered in Japanese in relation to the data for this study are the higher-order continua of careful/casual and masculine/feminine styles, as well as the paradigmatic contrasts of distal/direct and polite/plain styles. It was also noted that the determination of humble versus honorific polite style in Japanese hinges on the uti/soto deictic anchor point, a notion which differs fundamentally from the distinction of self/other in Indo-European languages.

Finally, we have suggested that the notion of genre can be particularly useful as an heuristic for language pedagogy, in that it enables teachers to present and discuss parallel models of native speakers’ interactions as sets of discourses with shared communicative functions, particular yet similar goals, and the possibility of co-occurring but varied participant expectations. In doing so we can also demonstrate to students how individuals in a particular culture develop the “capacity to mean” through experience in a variety of genres.

164 CHAPTER 4

CULTURAL AND SOCIOLINGUISTIC BACKGROUND

4.1 Introduction

When considering a stretch of discourse in order to ascertain whether or not a particular utterance or series of utterances within that discourse has been recognized^ as an offer of service, there are numerous considerations that should be kept in mind. First and perhaps foremost is the situational context. As Rabinowitz (1993:208-9) points out in the conclusion to her study of offers in English, and as we have observed in Chapter 2 in our discussion of speech act theory, there can be a notable similarity at the utterance level among promises, proposals to grant a favor, statements of intent, and permission requests, yet “context, sociocultural variables, and the relationship between interlocutors prove to be much more important than the mere utterances themselves in determining what constitutes an offer.” Therefore speech act theory, which traditionally takes as its object of investigation the sentence or single utterance which is isolated from context, is often unsuccessful in the analysis of various social actions, such as requests and offers, that may be expressed over a series of turns or may not even be explicitly expressed at all. As numerous studies have shown, situational context plays a significant role in utterance production and understanding.- The first part of this chapter (Section 4.2) will therefore address this issue.

'That is, by the listener. -See, for example, Geis (1995), Duranti and Goodwin (1992).

165 Situational context is of course culture-dependent; the types of role-relationships,

status rankings, behavioral norms and numerous other variables that are salient in one

culture can be far different in another. Malinowski was perhaps the first to point this out

when he noted, according to Halliday (1989:6-7), that

...in any adequate description, it was necessary to provide information not only about what was happening at the time but also about the total cultural background, because involved in any kind of linguistic interaction, in any kind of conversational exchange, were not only the immediate sights and sounds surrounding the event [the Context of Situation, discussed earlier] but also the whole cultural history behind the participants, and behind the practices that they were engaging in, determining their significance for the culture, whether practical or ritual. All these played a part in the interpretation of the meaning. So Malinowski introduced the two notions that he called the context of situation and the CONTEXT OF CULTURE; and both of these, he considered, were necessary for the adequate understanding of the text, (original emphasis)

Halliday and Hasan (1985) have argued that this Context of Culture subsumes the

Context of Situation (which we described in the previous chapter), and they define the

former as the “institutional and ideological background that gives value to the text and

constrains its interpretation” (Leckie-Tarry and Birch 1995:18).

This means that the second point to consider in an evaluation of any social action ,

such as the offer, or complex speech genre such as JBTCs, is that the ways in which

native speakers choose to express themselves, both verbally and non-verbally, might

index certain sociocultural norms and values. The attitudes and beliefs shared by members

of a given community are usually not readily apparent to those outside of that culture; nor

are they typically a conscious part of the day-to-day behavior of the members of that community. Nevertheless, sociocultural norms and values do manifest themselves in

many ways; perhaps one of the most revealing sources is the metalanguage or folk

terminology, including proverbs, used within a culture to talk about communication itself.

For example, the phrase hugen zikkoo ‘no words, action,’ points to the respect accorded

1 6 6 in Japan to silence and verbal reticence. Another example is the often quoted phrase deru kui wa utareru, 'the peg that sticks out gets hammered down,’ which indicates the tendency among Japanese to refrain from overt expression or behavior which differs from that of the group. By examining such phrases, we can take a step toward developing a more culturally sensitive understanding of the relative values familiar to native speakers in regard to certain types of behavior within Japanese society, and in particular, obtain a better grasp of which values might inform or be congruent with the extending and acceptance of offers in business transactional contexts.

There are also certain elements of conversational interaction in a given culture that we might describe as “discourse moves” which can affect the syntactic structure and pragmatic appropriateness of individual utterances as well as longer stretches of talk.

Some examples in Japanese are uti/soto deixis, nemawashi (establishing common ground in negotiations), and the extended predicate construction. A discussion of these moves and an examination of some of the ways they have been used in business contexts is in order if we are to propose useful strategies for our students who seek to participate successfully in business transactional telephone conversations themselves. Before entering into this discussion, however, we must first consider a few issues that are essential to any analysis of contextual factors in conversational interactions.

4.2 Issues to consider in an analysis of contextual factors

Although the word ‘context’ has been employed ubiquitously in the fields of pragmatics and the ethnography of speaking, to date there is no consensus among researchers as to a precise definition of the term. Goodwin and Duranti (1992:2) note,

at the moment the term means quite different things within alternative research paradigms, and indeed even within particular traditions seems to be defined more by situated practice, by use of the concept to work with

167 particular analytical problems, than by formal definition, (original emphasis)

Goodwin and Duranti suggest that this lack of agreement, far from being a disadvantage,

has actually proven to be beneficial, for it has meant that numerous scholars have had to

tackle the concept as “a productive focus for study.”

In developing a working definition of context, Goodwin and Duranti point out the importance of recognizing that context exists only in relation to some focal event, for example a stream of talk or (nonverbal) movement. The relationship between the focal event and context then becomes that of figure and (back)ground:^

When the issue of context is raised it is typically argued that the focal event cannot be properly understood, interpreted appropriately, or described in a relevant fashion, unless one looks beyond the event itself to other phenomena (for example, cultural setting, speech situation, shared background assumptions) within which the event is embedded, or alternatively that features of the talk itself invoke particular background assumptions relevant to the organization of subsequent interaction. The context is thus a frame (Goffman 1974) that surrounds the event being examined and provides resources for its appropriate interpretation....The notion of context thus involves a fundamental juxtaposition of two entities: ( 1 ) a focal event, and (2) a field of action within which that event is embedded. (Goodwin and Duranti 1992:3; original emphasis)

Viewing context in this manner requires an acceptance of a constant state of flux, an ebb and flow between what is figure and what is ground. Boundaries shift and are necessarily blurry. Bateson (1972:459, quoted in Goodwin and Duranti 1992:4) describes the problem through the metaphor of a blind man walking with a stick:

But what about ‘me’? Suppose I am a blind man, and I use a stick. I go tap, tap, tap. Where do I start? Is my mental system bounded at the handle of the stick? Is it bounded by my skin? Does it start halfway up the stick? Does it start at the tip of the stick? But these are nonsense questions. The

^See Hanks (1992) for a detailed examination of the importance of the figure/ground contrast to the analysis of deixis.

168 stick is a pathway along which transforms of difference are being transmitted. The way to delineate the system is to draw the limiting line in such a way that you do not cut any of these pathways in ways which leave things inexplicable. If what you are trying to explain is a given piece of behavior, such as the locomotion of the blind man, then, for this purpose, you will need the street, the stick, the man; the street, the stick, and so on, round and round.

But when the blind man sits down to eat his lunch, his stick and its messages will no longer be relevant—if it is his eating that you want to understand.

Goodwin and Duranti explain that this metaphor presents a number of issues that should be considered in an analysis of context. The first is the notion that ‘the map is not the territory.’ That is, if we were to focus merely on a map of the city in which the blind man is located as a representation of context, we would be missing a great deal. Instead,

Goodwin and Duranti argue, it is essential that we consider “how the subject himself attends to and organizes his perception of the events and situations that he is navigating through” (1992:4). That is, we should take into account the perspectives of the participants themselves in regard to those around them and their surroundings, as they work through them.

A second issue to consider is how to describe “the socio-historical knowledge that a participant employs to act within the environment of the moment.” This knowledge will vary depending upon the activity in which the participants are engaged. In the case of the blind man, when walking he must adjust to potential obstacles in the street, but when eating this constraint is no longer relevant. When navigating the streets, the man must also be aware of certain social and/or historical conventions, for example, the fact that there will be street lights at busy intersections. Different constraints might be operative if he were eating; it might be considered improper in some cultures, for example, for him to talk and eat at the same time. Any description of socio-historical knowledge must

169 therefore be relevant to an accompanying description of the particular activity of the

moment.

This leads us to another issue suggested by but not actually addressed through

Bateson’s metaphor, which is thedynamic nature of context itself. Although the blind

man may move through a city that appears—through its solid buildings and paved

streets—to be immutable, in fact the interaction of human beings with their environment is

a constantly changing phenomenon, requiring a shift of perspective from moment to

moment, depending upon the ways in which the events in which they participate unfold.

To act is to alter the place where one is acting, and, thus, oneself. We should also consider the fact that the environment is necessarily affected by the actions and choices

that we make, and vice-versa. It is therefore important that we view interaction as a social process rather than as a pre-scripted event, in order to accommodate the symbiotic nature of our relationship with others and the environment. As Goodwin and Duranti (1992:5) point out, through their performance of various activities, participants “constitute the culturally and historically organized social worlds that they inhabit.”

Finally, if we are to examine the unfolding of interactions through the eyes of participants, we should also take note of the verbal and non-verbal signs which participants employ as they engage in and interpret these interactions. As was indicated earlier in Chapter 2, Gumperz (1982a, 1992) has coined the term contextualization cues to refer to these signs, and he notes that conversationalists, in attending to these cues, must draw inferences based upon prior experiences in order to make sense of the present situation.

Contextualization cues may assume numerous forms, including (a) suprasegmental features such as intonation, stress, and shifts in accent or pitch; (b) paralinguistic signs including tempo, pauses, hesitation, and overlapping between

170 speakers’ utterances; (c) code selection among various phonetic, phonological, morphosyntactic, and stylistic options, as well as code switching among those same options; and (d) selection of lexical forms, formulaic utterances, and routines such as openings and closings.

Gumperz characterizes the communicative function of contextualization cues as follows:

They serve to highlight, foreground or make salient certain phonological or lexical strings vis-à-vis other similar units, that is, they fonction relationally and cannot be assigned context-independent, stable, core lexical meanings. Foregrounding processes, moreover, do not rest on any one single cue. Rather, assessments depend on cooccurrence judgments that simultaneously evaluate a variety of different cues. When interpreted with reference to lexical and grammatical knowledge, structural position within a clause and sequential location within a stretch of discourse, foregrounding becomes an input to implicatures, yielding situated interpretations. Situated interpretations are intrinsically context-bound and cannot be analyzed apart from the verbal sequences in which they are embedded. Moreover, inferences are subconsciously made so that ... they are not readily accessible to recall. It is therefore difficult to elicit information about the grounds upon which particular inferences are made through direct questioning. The relevant interpretive processes are best studied through in-depth, tum-by-tum analysis of form and content. (Gumperz 1992:232; emphasis mine)

Here again we may observe the interconnected nature of what is foregrounded and backgrounded in discourse, and the multitude of factors which speakers attend to as they engage in conversation. This account also reminds us that elicitation techniques such as interviews or questionnaires may not prove to be effective in obtaining information as to the process(es) which speakers follow in arriving at various interpretations of context and in making inferences. Instead, an analysis of naturally occurring data which includes the identification of contextualization cues would seem to be preferable.

Returning now to the issues raised by Goodwin and Duranti in regard to context, we may ask what consequences these have for the present investigation—that is, for the

171 analysis of offers of service in Japanese business transactional telephone conversations.

Let us consider each of the issues discussed above in turn.

First of all, we should view these conversations from the perspective of the participants themselves, consider the ways in which participants respond to each other, and try to describe how the participants jointly co-construct their reality through the organization of their conversation. Since the object of this investigation is a set of reports of service-related problems, we may analyze the procedures which callers follow in order to report such problems, and also observe the ways in which service providers respond to those problems. Generally speaking in terms of figure and ground, we may consider the problem-reporting and problem-resolution sequences to be the focal events of these conversations, with the larger context of the business transactional telephone call—in particular, its generic characteristics—to be the field of action in which these focal events are embedded.'*

Secondly, we should examine how the mode of communication—the telephone— affects the organization of the participants’ interaction, as well as the ways in which the nature of the activity itself—Japanese business transactional telephone calls—constrains the structural and interactional features of the conversations. Certain role relationships between the participants may also affect the nature of the interaction. In short, how does the fact that the participants are engaged in a business transaction on the telephone affect the way in which they interact?

Third, we should keep in mind the dynamic nature of the interaction and the fact that the participants are creating context through an ongoing process. At the outset of a call, each participant will have certain assumptions; a caller who has encountered a

'*The reader will recall the quotation from Cameron and Emerson (1990:291) that “genres provide a specific field for future activity.”

172 service-related problem, for example, may assume that the service provider will endeavor

to resolve that problem. However, the service provider who answers the call will not

know at the outset that there is a problem. Therefore as the interaction unfolds, the

perspective that each participant has in regard to the problem being discussed will be constantly updated, revised, and so on, and this inevitably shapes the way in which participants respond to that information.

Finally, we should try to identify the types of contextualization cues that the participants rely upon in order to make sense of an interaction as it unfolds. As Gumperz noted in the quotation cited earlier in this chapter, “Foregrounding processes ... do not rest on any one single cue. Rather, assessments depend on cooccurrence judgments that simultaneously evaluate a variety of different c u e s . ” 5 in examining the data, we should seek to identify certain clusters or constellations of cues that, taken together, might signal to speakers how to interpret the ongoing interaction. For example, a service provider who answers the telephone may not know initially that the caller on the line has a problem.

What sorts of cues indicate to the service provider that this is indeed the case, and at what point in each of these interactions does the service provider have enough information in order to make an offer of assistance? These are the types of questions to consider as we conduct an “in-depth, tum-by-tum analysis of form and content” in these interactions.*^

As I have argued in Chapter 3 and will illustrate in Chapter 5, many of the contextualization cues in these telephone calls are in fact register feamres that help to identify the calls as being exemplars of the genre of Japanese business transactional

^Gumperz ( 1992:232). ^Gumperz (cited in Ervin-Tripp 1976:26 fn2) has discussed the process speakers go through in adjusting their assumptions, noting that “setting, discourse topic and background knowledge of participants constrain the type o f verbal activity that can be enacted, but they do not uniquely determine it....At the start of any one verbal encounter, a speaker, building on his background knowledge, makes a semantic Judgment about what activities can normally be enacted. Once talk begins this judgment is then either confirmed and sharpened, or altered by assessing discourse topic, nonverbal cues, as well as contextualization cues....”

173 telephone conversations. These register features include formulaic expressions typically reserved for business interactions, such as osewa ni natte-orirnasu (literally, '(we) have become obliged (to you) for (your) assistance’)."^ If speakers employ these register features in the process of performing certain routines, such as the opening to a telephone conversation that is appropriate for a business transaction, then this reinforces the claim that those speakers are engaging in one particular instance of a business transactional telephone call.

But the ability of speakers to produce and evaluate contextualization cues, as well as their ability to determine the nature of the interaction in which they are engaged, depends heavily upon the participants’ experience with these types of interactions and contextualization cues. Even native speakers who are not familiar with the ways in which business transactions are performed by telephone— for example, new recruits in an office—have to leam through experience how to participate in these activities, or in

Wittgenstein’s term, in these language-games.* Likewise, learners of Japanese need to have opportunities to observe and practice, with guidance from teachers, the moves that are relevant in these language games. Repeated encounters of this sort will help learners to

^This phrase is very difficult to translate because what the wordosewa implies in English will differ depending upon the role relationship obtaining between the speaker and his/her addressee. If, for example, a service provider says Osewa ni natte-oriniasu to a service recipient, the service provider is essentially thanking the customer for his/her continued patronage. Yet if the service recipient responds with the same phrase, it cannot possibly refer to business or patronage, but rather to the care, assistance, help, or the like which the customer has continued to receive from the service provider. The latter interpretation of ‘care’ or ‘assistance’ is also appropriate when the phrase is used in the context of introductions. At such times, the point of the phrase is to acknowledge “any previous connection— direct or indirect— with the person to whom one is being introduced, either through family or outside affiliation’’ (Jorden with Noda 1987:311). In this thesis, I will use “Thank you for your continued patronage” when the phrase is uttered by a service provider, and “Thank you for your continued assistance” when it is uttered by a service recipient. See Chapters 5 and 6 for specific examples from the data corpus. ®See, for example, Wetzel and Inoue (1996) on the training o f customer service employees at organizations such as Japan Airlines. New recruits go through rigorous instruction in, among other things, the placing and receiving of telephone calls. Detailed manuals have been developed to teach the proper use o f honorific and humble polite language, in addition to details such as appropriate voice quality and attitude to ensure skillful performance.

174 develop reliable intuitions which may guide them in the interpretation and enactment of future encounters. Finally, learners also need to know that the way in which a particular instance of a given language game will unfold may differ, depending upon the moment- to-moment changes in context and the ways in which participants respond to these changes. As stated earlier, one of the goals of this investigation is therefore to describe the nature of business transactional telephone calls—their structure, register features, and frequently occurring contextualization cues—in the interest of ultimately providing useful models for our students. By learning through experience how to behave in these encounters, students should be better able to react to and adapt to such situations at the spur of the moment. Merely ‘knowing’ factual information about how to behave is insufficient.

4.3 Metalanguage regarding communication in Japanese

As was briefly suggested in the introduction to this chapter, the metalanguage used by speakers of Japanese to describe socially preferred means of communication can reveal some of the underlying cultural values shared by those speakers concerning the ways in which social actions such as offers might be made and perceived. Let us consider a few of these examples of metalanguage here.

4.3.1 Uti/soto

As has been attested in numerous works on Japan, most notably Bachnik and

Quinn (1994), the uti/soto or ‘in-group/out-group’ distinction is fundamental to the

Japanese way of life. Quinn (1994a), for example, in a detailed study of the many ways in which the termsuti and soto, as well as their related expressions, may serve as

“windows on the [Japanese] world,” argues that

175 The lexical evidence indicates that uti/soto orientations constitute a lifeway, a socially learned way of construing, approaching, and moving through one’s world, in domains of experience as different as perception and interpersonal relations. (1994a:39)

The multitude of examples he provides are drawn from spatial, social (domestic and

nondomestic), psychological/attitudinal and temporal domains, and include both indexical

and symbolic uses of these terms.

In a separate essay, Bachnik (1994:156-7), has discussed the way in which the

uti/soto distinction applies to the definition of person in Japanese:

Uti,...is translated as ‘us’, ‘our group’, ‘we’, ‘our’, as well as ‘I’, ‘m e’, ‘my’, ‘my group’, whereas ‘your’ ‘yours’ ‘your group’ is communicated by a different word— otaku. Uti and otaku thus operate in some ways like the first and second person pronouns in English. But there is an important difference in defining person in Japanese. Both ‘I’ and other members of my group are uti; you and members of your group are otaku. This means that the other is not defined solely vis-à-vis the self, but rather vis-à-vis the group to which ego belongs. The group is the primary background through which figures such as the self are foregrounded and, as such, it is assumed as a common framework or ‘ground.’ In terms of this ‘ground,’ others can be differentiated in two ways; as ‘inside others’ or ‘outside others.’ As a consequence of this deictic anchor point, the group boundary thus emerges as an important feature in communicating distinctions between self and other, so that these boundary distinctions replace the distinction between self and not-self in English and Indo-European. Moreover, self is demarcated within a larger ‘ground’ and in a particular situational relationship. Taken alone, self constitutes neither figure nor ground.

The defining of person in Japanese through the uti/soto distinction is illustrated in

numerous ways, including through the system of humble and honorific polite verbals (as

we saw in the previous chapter) and the verbals of giving and receiving.^ When a speaker uses a humble polite verbal, for example, the minimal in-group subject indexed by that

^See Wetzel (1994) for a more detailed treatment of the indexing of the uti/soto distinction in giving and receiving verbs in particular.

176 lexical choice is the speaker. However, other members of that speaker’s in-group of the moment are potentially included. Thus, when a secretary makes the following offer,

(4-1) Orikaesi itasimasyoo ka? return call do for out-group-ipf-cns (-1) Q

‘Shall (I/we) call back?’ the humble polite verbal itasimasyoo indicates that the offer is actually being made on behalf of the secretary’s in-group, and more specifically, on behalf of the person who was not present to take the original call. Furthermore, it is being made for the benefit of the out-group.'0 We will observe more examples of this sort in examples from the data later in this chapter and in Chapters 5 and 6.

4.3.2 Ki and sassi

There are numerous commonly used phrases in Japanese which have a positive connotation and are used to describe the perceptiveness of an individual in interactional situations. Many of these include or are related to the term sassi, which is equivalent to

‘judgment,’ ‘understanding’ or ‘comprehension.’ For example, describing a person as sassi ga ii, or being ‘considerate, sympathetic’ is very complimentary; as Ishii (1984:55) notes, “in Japanese society, a person who is good at...perceiving intuitively another person’s thoughts and feelings is highly appreciated for having what is called sassi competence.”“ The verb sassuni, which can be glossed as ‘catch on to [the meaning],’

‘sympathize with,’ or ‘feel for,’ also appears in a related expression mime no uti o

*°See Quinn (1994b:270-l) for a discussion of the benefactive nature of humble polite verbals, particularly those assuming the transitive patternto + Vstem +siini/. • * See Kobayashi ( 1980:217) on this point. Another way of describing this sort of perceptive behavior is to say that someone cangyookan o yoniu, or read between the lines.’ This is of course a common phrase in English as well, although it is perhaps used more there as a suggestion than as a description of someone’s behavior.

177 sassuru, meaning ‘read [a person’s] mind (or thoughts).’ The verb satti sum, which shares the same initial Chinese character withsassi and sassuru, is equivalent to

‘perceive,’ ‘observe,’ or ‘sense.’ One other term with a similar meaning but unrelated morphology is osihakaru, ‘enter into [a person’s] feelings.’

The termki, which may be glossed as ‘energy,’ ‘spirit,’ or ‘mind,’ also figures in numerous metalinguistic or folk expressions. Rosenberger ( 1994) describes ki as follows:'"

The basic spiritual energy is called ki which in its original meaning in China and Japan conveyed the idea of a power of the universe that inhered in people’s bodies as well as other objects. In contemporary Japan, Japanese use ki in relation to a person to describe an energy that is of the spirit or the heart, rather than the body or universe. The ki reaches out and meets with theki of other people, and is easily influenced by the environment. (1994:110, fn. 6)

The phraseski ga kiku, ‘have good Judgment,’ ki o kikasu and ki o kikaseru, ‘consider voluntarily,’ are used as indications of approval; the verb kiku means ‘take effect,’ or

‘operate,’ so these phrases convey the sense that a person’s ki is ‘taking effect.’ The phraseki o tukau, literally to ‘use ki,' describes a person who is alert and solicitous of others’ needs.

In contrast with these expressions of positively valued traits, there are also corresponding expressions with negative connotations. For example, describing a person as sassi ga warui (literally, the ‘sassi is bad’) suggests that s/he is ‘inconsiderate’ or

‘unsympathetic.’ Saying that hito no kimoti ni taisuru sassi ga nai indicates that a person ‘lacks consideration for the feelings of others.’ The label ki ga kikanai (literally, the ‘ki does not take effect’) describes someone who is ‘dull, awkward, unrefined.’ A ki

'-For an excellent discussion of the importance of ki to the Japanese sense of self and relations with others, see Rosenberger (1992).

178 no îukanai hito is ‘a person whose ki is not effective’ — in other words, a ‘thoughtless,

inconsiderate person.’

Tsuruta et al. have recognized the importance of the notions of osihakaru and ki o

kikaseru to the expression of offers of assistance {zyoryoku no moosiide) in Japanese:

In various aspects of interpersonal relationships in Japanese society, perceiving what is in the mind of the other person and behaving accordingly, without a word to the other person, is generally considered to be a good thing. In particular, this tendency is revealed most strikingly in offers of assistance [zyoryoku no moosiide], which are usually made on behalf of the other person; sensing the immediate needs of the other person and taking these as a cue for one’s own behavior [ki o kikaseru koto] is valued highly in [Japanese] society. Although to some extent this may be pushy [tasyoo no osituke], such actions are interpreted as demonstrations of empathy [omoiyari], (1988:138; my translation)

From Tsuruta’s remarks, we might anticipate that Japanese listeners will tend to act upon the needs they perceive another to have in a given situation, perhaps even without confirming those needs with the speakers concerned. I will address this issue in further detail at the end of section 4.3.3 below, as well as in Chapters 5 and 6 through the analysis of the data.

4 .3 .3 Omoiyari and kikubari

In speaking of the positive value accorded to offers of assistance in Japanese,

Tsuruta (in the quotation above) refers to the notion of omoiyari. Omoiyari, ‘empathy,’ is a noun form of the verb omoiyaru, which may be glossed as ‘guess,’ ‘sympathize,’ or

‘put oneself in someone’s shoes.’ Both words are actually compounds, based on the noun omoi ‘thought’ or ‘feeling,’ and the verb yaru ‘give,’ or ‘do for [someone].’ In effect, then, a person who demonstrates omoiyari is one who gives thought or consideration for the feelings of others.

179 Lebra ( 1976) describes the concept of omoiyari as follows:

the ability and willingness to feel what others are feeling, to vicariously experience the pleasure or pain that they are undergoing, and to help them satisfy their wishes. Kindness or benevolence becomes omoiyari only if it is derived from such sensitivity to the recipient’s feelings. The ideal in omoiyari is for Ego to enter into Alter’s kokoro, ‘heart,’ and to absorb all information about Alter’s feelings without being told verbally (1976:38; emphasis mine).

Lebra’s point that the ideal situation is one in which a listener will “absorb all information...without being told verbally” echoes Tsuruta’s remarks, and emphasizes the degree to which Japanese listeners are expected to perceive and act upon their interactants’ feelings and needs.

Lebra explains that omoiyari is expressed in conversation when

the speaker does not complete a sentence but leaves it open-ended in such a way that the listener will take it over'^ before the former clearly expresses his will or opinion. This is possible because, in Japanese, the verb expressing the speaker’s will comes at the end of the sentence. By letting a sentence trail off before coming to the verb, the speaker can avoid expressing and imposing his ideas before knowing the listener’s response. (1976:38-9, emphasis mine)

In support of her argument, Lebra paraphrases a remark by Seidensticker ( 1970:406) that

“the Japanese attach importance to nouns and pronouns perhaps because they mistrust the definitiveness of verbs” (Lebra 1976:39). Clearly this is an overstatement; Japanese of course frequently employ verbs to predicate their utterances. However, as will be observed later in excerpts from the data, much of Japanese conversation is indeed characterized by minor sentences which contain noun phrases, often followed by particles but without a predicating verb. This is the open-endedness to which Lebra refers.

*^This, in essence, is a definition of ma o tom, a phrase which I discuss in more detail below. ‘‘‘Smith (1983:57) cites a similar quotation from Reischauer (1977:136), who claims that the Japanese “have a genuine mistrust of verbal skills, thinking that these tend to show superficiality in contrast to

180 Szatrowski (1992a) has suggested that omoiyari is a strategy used by Japanese participants in invitation sequences in order to show compassion or sympathy. This occurs “when the invitee, whose goal may be to refuse, leaves the possibility of acceptance open while developing the conversation in the direction of a refusal, thus showing sympathy and compassion for the inviter” ( 1992a: 1).

Another strategy which Szatrowski argues that speakers will use in the context of invitations is that of kikubari:

which literally means to distribute ki, energy or attention or showing consideration. I have observed this strategy when an inviter shows sensitivity for the invitee. An example is when an inviter makes it easier for the invitee to refuse after the invitee has indicated the potential for refusal. (Szatrowski 1992a.T)

Speakers may also employ the same strategies of sensitivity and consideration for others in the expression of offers. For example, Nishihara (1994) has observed that the way hosts and hostesses offer food and drink to guests differs significantly in Japan and the United States; she notes that a Japanese will usually anticipate a guest’s needs and provide refreshment immediately, without inquiring about the guest’s preferences:

...in both Japanese homes and companies, drinks are often served to visitors. In the summer this would be cold barley tea [mugitya], in the other seasons green tea [otya] would be commonly offered. It is rare that the guest be asked, “What would you like to drink?” The host serves drinks without allowing the guest the chance to accept or refuse. This no

inner, less articulate feelings that are communicated by innuendo or by non-verbal means.” According to Smith, “This means that many messages are not only minimal but actually obscure as well, so that the success of communication depends as much on the sensitivity of the recipient as on the quality o f the message sent. Indeed, failure of communication, which is not uncommon, is generally blamed on the receiver. It follows, therefore, that the more experiences sender and receiver have shared in repeated encounters, the greater the likelihood of successful communication” (Smith 1983:57). Smith’s emphasis on the importance of “repeated encounters” between sender and receiver for successful communication again points to the need for learners of Japanese to be provided with culturally appropriate models and opportunities for guided rehearsal and actual performance of various moves in Japanese. This is an issue I will address in Chapter 7.

181 doubt comes from the good intentions of the host who anticipates the situation, feeling that someone coming from outside must surely be thirsty or would like to relax a bit with some refreshment before getting down to business. In an American home or company there would most likely be no sudden appearance of drinks. If there is no secretary assuming the role of tea-server, there is no likelihood that drinks would be served without asking the guest’s preference. Here, too, is evident the difference in communication between Japan, where one attempts to anticipate the other’s wishes and respond to them before resorting to words, and America, where one responds after ascertaining another’s wishes through words. Looking at it from the point of view of a Japanese, if one asks “May I get you something?” you can’t expect a guest to reply “Yes, please.” It would end up with the guest being reserved and responding, “No thank you, I don’t need anything. Please don’t go to any trouble.” This is however, an expression showing concern that the guest is thirsty and should have something to drink. An American would say that it is rude to just serve arbitrarily without even asking what your guest would prefer. If drinks are served, it is proper to do so after finding out what they want. To Japanese on the other hand, being pressed to make decisions—hot or cold, coffee or tea, sugar or no sugar, if so how much, how about cream, or would you prefer lemon, and so on— especially when paying a courtesy call, is very trying. It would be much kinder to have someone make the decision for you. Here we have a critical difference in communication patterns. (Nishihara 1994:6; emphasis mine)

Doi (1973:13) has made similar observations about the expectation in Japan that hosts will show sensitivity to their guests’ needs. He recalls his difficulty in coming to terms with the English phrase ‘help yourself as an expression of goodwill; to him, the phrase seemed to imply that ‘nobody else will help you.’ He goes on to point out that

The Japanese sensibility would demand that, in entertaining, a host should show sensitivity in detecting what was required and should himself ‘help’ his guests. To leave a guest unfamiliar with the house to ‘help himself would seem excessively lacking in consideration.

As Rabinowitz (1993:96) has noted, however, the American offer to ‘help yourself is not only uttered in contexts in which the addressee would be expected to fend for him/herself. Rabinowitz found, for example, that a hostess might utter the phrase

‘help yourself as she extends a platter of food to a guest. Moreover, although the overall

182 results of Rabinowitz’ study suggest that the linguistic forms of offers that appear quite

frequently in English are those which literally inquire as to the addressee’s wants, needs,

or feelings, most of these offers were in fact what she calls “spontaneous” offers— that is those in which the offerer had already perceived that someone might have wanted something or was in need of assistance.'^ Consider the following examples from her data

(Rabinowitz 1993:106-109);

(4-2) Offer uttered by a hostess to visitors who have just complained that their child, also visiting with them, seems ill:

‘I have Benadryl, if you need [it].’

(4-3) Offer uttered by a salesclerk to a customer who has just paid for a small writing pad:

‘You want a bag?’

(4-4) Offer uttered by a customer with a shopping cart who was about to enter a narrow aisle in a small Fish store where a worker was sweeping the floor:

‘I can come around, if you like.’

(4-5) Offer uttered by a hostess to a visitor who has just admired her flowers:

‘You can take some home, if you want.’

(4-6) Offer uttered by a guest to a hostess, who is setting out plates on the table:

‘Do you need some help?’

Clearly these examples demonstrate sensitivity on the part of the American offerers toward their interlocutors. However, my point in citing the quotations by

Nishihara and Doi above is to suggest that there is perhaps a relatively greater tendency among the Japanese to act in response to a perceived need, without asking if that would

'^Rabinowitz contrasts “spontaneous offers” with “elicited offers,” the latter being those based on hints or explicit mentions of need by the interlocutor.

183 be agreeable.*^ This depends upon the context, of course, but I would contend that in circumstances parallel to most of those described in examples (4-2) through (4-6) above, a Japanese person would simply do what s/he thought was appropriate for the circumstances. Thus in the sales context of (4-3), a Japanese clerk would place the writing pad in a bag (or wrap it carefully with paper) and give it to the customer, rather than asking first if that were preferable.'^ Likewise, in the fish store scenario of (4-4), the customer would most likely move out of the way without a word, and then continue her shopping. In a situation comparable to that of (4-5), the hostess might present the guest with the flowers at the end of the evening.'^ And in a situation parallel to that of (4-6), female guests might assist the hostess, perhaps with an accompanying, Tetudaimasu yo!

‘(I)’ll help (you)!’*^ Example (4-2) is thus perhaps the only context in which a Japanese speaker would be sure to leave the decision up to the addressee, and this is understandable given the potentially dangerous consequences of a hostess taking such a matter into her own hands.

'^Lebra (1976:123) describes the Japanese situation as follows: “Ego does not express his wish but expects Alter or a third person to anticipate his wish. The burden of communication falls not on the message sender but on the message receiver. Instead of Ego’s having to tell or ask for what he wants, others around him guess and accommodate his needs, sparing him embarrassment.” '^Indeed, the wrapping of packages at department stores and stationery shops, even for such everyday items as writing pads, is standard practice. See Hendry (1990) for an extensive analysis o f the significance of wrapping in Japan, as it applies to both gifts and conversation. As Donald L. Brenneis noted in his introduction to Situated Meaning, “presentation and an almost literal embedding o f the contents,’ whether of a gift or o f talk, may well be more significant than the contents themselves. Locating the gift within its wrapping— or talk within its honorifics and allusions—and penetrating the layers of concealment as they shape and locate what they contain is central. As withSituated Meaning, the process of linking context and message is necessary and reciprocal” (Bachnik and Quinn 1994:x). '^Many a foreign visitor to Japan has no doubt experienced, with much chagrin, parallel situations in which a well-intended compliment about a vase or the like resulted in the visitor’s receiving that item as a gift. Among Japanese, however, it is possible that this type of behavior is less likely to occur, at least in relatively formal contexts. '^I have observed similar behavior at the end of a casual dinner party when, rather thanasking if they might help with the dishes, Japanese female guests would simply just go into the kitchen and start to wash them. As was the case for example 4-5, this type of behavior might be less typical in formal situations in Japan.

184 There are, of course, numerous ways in which a Japanese speaker may provide options to the interlocutor when making an offer. For example, by prefacing an offer with the phrase,mosi yo(rosi)kereba, a speaker may convey much the sense of the phrase, ‘if you like.’ Although this literally means ‘if (it) would be good,’ by using the polite form yorosii, rather than the plain form //, a speaker can convey the sense that ‘be good’ is in reference to the addressee. Another option would be for the speaker to employ the consultative form l-(mas)(y)oo ka?l in the offer; by doing so, a speaker may ask the equivalent of ‘Shall I...?’ and leave the responsibility for the final decision up to the addressee.

Yet the fact that either of these patterns may be used still does not mean that it is permissible at any time in Japanese to ask about the needs and desires of the addressee.

As Hoshino (1991) has noted, asking if someone ‘wants’ something by using the form

hosiU is pragmatically constrained in Japanese (for example, it is inappropriate when used toward superiors). Thus if a student wants to offer a copy of something to her teacher, instead of asking

(4-7) # Sensee, kono kopii hosii desii ka? Teacher this copy desire CP-ipf Q

‘Do you want (to have) this copy?’ the student should instead say.

(4-8) Kopii simasyoo ka?-° copy do-ipf-cns Q

‘Shall I copy this?’

Another, perhaps preferable alternative would be to sayKopii itasimasyoo ka?, using the humble polite form of the verbal.

185 As Hoshino explains.

Asking the superior hearer to explicate his wants is understood as [a] lack of omoiyari (‘empathy’) and should be avoided in the ritual situation. Instead of asking the hearer to be his beneficiary, when the speaker should detect the hearer’s desire, the speaker can suggest to perform the relevant action. -Masyoo is the distal-style consultative (Jordan with Noda 1987:175) and suggests the speaker’s willingness to do the things mentioned. (1991:52; emphasis mine)

By ‘ritual situation,’ Hoshino (following Lebra 1976) means the context of omote

(‘front’) and soto (‘outside, external, public’), as opposed to situations that are ura

(‘back’) and/or uti (‘inside, internal, private’), i.e., hidden from public view.-' This is precisely the sort of situation described above in the quotations by Nishihara and Doi, as well as the type which frames the offers cited by Rabinowitz in English. As we have observed, however, in parallel situations, the culturally appropriate behavior differs in

Japanese and English. What Nishihara and Doi appear to be emphasizing is the fact that in polite, public situations in Japan, the expectation is that people will do things for others and anticipate their needs in advance; one shouldn 't have to ask what those needs might be. This has significant consequences; as Mari Noda has suggested (personal communication), the verbal expression of an offer can therefore run counter to a cultural norm.

If this is the case, then when and why would a pattern such asl-{mas}(y}oo ka?/ be used? As Hoshino observes in the quotation above, this form can indicate a speaker’s willingness to do a certain activity. In situations in which it is impossible or inappropriate for a speaker to surmise what action should be taken (such as that of 4-2, which we

-'See Lebra (1976:112) for a discussion of various types of Japanese interpersonal relationships, which she characterizes according to a combination of theuti/soto and omote/ura orientations. In addition to ritualistic situations (soto and omote), she suggests intimate (uti and ura) and anomic (soto and ura) situations. The situations to be discussed in this study within the genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations generally fall within the ritualistic category. See also Noda (1990:118-140).

186 considered earlier), a Japanese speaker is usually better off leaving the responsibility for

the final decision up to the addressee. We will return to this question later in this chapter

and again in the discussion of the data in Chapters 5 and 6.

4 .3 .4 Ma

In addition to the high value placed on sensitivity to others’ needs in Japan, there

is also an emphasis on the ebb and flow of what is called ma, a term which may be glossed variously as ‘space,’ ‘room,’ or ‘interval.’ Here again, there are many phrases which the Japanese employ that help to reveal the nature of this folk concept.

Some phrases have a positive connotation, such as ma ni au; this means literally to ‘meet the interval,’ and refers to being on time. Other phrases are negative; for example, the phrasema ga niikeru indicates that something is ‘out of tune.’ The intransitive verb niikeru means ‘remove (oneself, itself),’ so that the phrase ma ga nitkeru literally means ‘an (appropriate) space or interval removes itself;’ this can result in a maladroit situation. Likewise, if a person refers to him/herself by saying ma ga warui, that person feels awkward, out of sync, or unlucky. For the Japanese, therefore, the maintenance or support of ma, in its proper place, would appear to be important.

The notion of ma figures prominently in the Japanese traditional arts, especially the Noh theater.— As described in theDaizirin (a dictionary of the Japanese language), this type of ma refers to the space in time created between beats or between steps or moves in a performance. It can also refer to the sense of rhythm and tempo used in turning on stage.-^ A related notion, ma o torn, literally means ‘take ma.'--^ This is a

^Charles Quinn, personal communication. -^“Haku to haku (doosa to doosa) no aida no zikan teki kankaku. Tenzite, rizitmtt ya tenpo no i ni mo motirareru." (Matsumura, Akira. 1988. Daizirin. Tokyo: Sanseido, p. 2257). “‘’Note that this does not refer toma being removed, as was the case in the earlier example, ma ga niikeru. Rather, ma o tom is the “taking up” by one actor of a pause or space in the performance.

187 situation in which one performer leaves another performer some room {ma o tom), with the expectation that the other performer will come forward to take up or fill in the ma in response {ma ni au). When these moves are performed well—that is, when the two performers are ‘in-sync’ and their timing is well-coordinated, the phrase ma no torikata ga umai (literally, ‘the taking of ma is skilled’) may be used to praise their performance.

As we will see later in examples from the data, a strikingly similar kind of ‘in sync performance’ may be observed among Japanese speakers in conversation.-^ That is, speakers will leave ‘space’ for their listeners to interpret what they are saying, with the expectation that listeners will ‘read between the lines,’ perceive the import of their utterances and respond appropriately.26 One way in which speakers may leave such a space is through a lack of specification of certain information; this phenomenon has been referred to as ellipsis and will be discussed in section 4.3.6 below.

4 .3 .5 Enryo-sassi communication

Ishii (1984) has referred to this delicate balance of give and take between speaker and listener in Japanese as enryo-sassi communication. According to Ishii, speakers avoid expressing their thoughts and feelings directly through enryo, or ‘modesty,’ yet sensitive listeners are able to interpret the messages through sassi, ‘consideration’ or

‘anticipation.’ Ishii argues that enryo-sassi communication is “one of the basic principles underlying Japanese interpersonal relations’’ (1984:49).

26See Hayashi (1987, 1988, 1990) on 'sync talk’ in Japanese. 26lshii (1984) claims that in contrast to the Japanese, “Americans,... whose culture is much more language-oriented than the Japanese culture, subconsciously attempt to fill pauses and silences with words and other sounds when speaking.” This suggests a different sense of timing or attitude toward silent intervals, or ma, in American English conversation. The following quote by Masao Kunihiro, a Japanese linguist, is revealing in this regard: "To the Japanese, language isa means of communication, whereas to the people of many other cultures it is the means of communication” (as cited in Ishii 1984:50).

188 The findings of a study by Okazaki (1993) support this observation. Okazaki examined the conversational behavior of Americans and Japanese when stating opinions, and found that while the Americans were more likely to express their opinions clearly and at the outset of a conversational turn, the Japanese preferred to adopt what she calls

“listener-dependent strategies.” For example, when asked the question, “What do you think about [X]?”, many Japanese subjects tended to avoid stating their opinions immediately, and would instead provide a great deal of background information, from which listeners were expected to draw their own conclusions. Okazaki claims that this reflects a more general tendency in Japanese conversational structure, which is “to put a long introductory comment about a topic before the thesis statement.”-^ She notes, moreover, that when and if the thesis statement is uttered, it is usually deemphasized paralinguistically, i.e., it is given weaker stress and may be spoken quietly.-*

-^Okazaki (1993:78). In support of this claim, Okazaki cites Inagaki (1988), who “points out that it is a characteristic of the Japanese to open their speech, for example, with expressions of humility, apology, excuses, and/or a course of action rather than a main point” (Okazaki 1993:78). She also cites a previous study of her own (Okazaki 1987) which examined the behavior of English-Japanese bilinguals, in which she argued that “Japanese speakers provide several opportunities for their listeners to build up a shared background of information by providing preliminary information including socio-cultural knowledge, context-bound suppositions, and goals of communication that interlocutors must hold in common in order to understand the points of the messages and to proceed smoothly” (Ibid.). Yet all of these claims are extremely general; a more cautious approach would be to situate such claims in particular contexts or to limit them to particular conversational genres, where appropriate. Szatrowski, as we have seen, has discussed the notions of omoiyari and kikubari in the context of invitations. Likewise, in this study, the claims being made about sociocultural beliefs and attitudes are restricted to the genre of business transactional telephone conversations, and more specifically, to the reporting and resolution o f problems in that context. -*Gumperz, Kaltman, and O’Connor (1984) observed similar behavior among South Asians in the presentation of background and new information, but contrasting behavior among Americans. According to the authors o f the study, “[South Asians] frequently lead up to a main point by first presenting background information spoken at a high pitch with rhythmic stress, then shift to lower-pitched, less emphatic speech to make their main point. Americans generally do the reverse. That is, they signal their main point with emphatic rhythmic stress and deemphasize the background information, usually by shifting to lower pitch” (as cited in Okazaki, 1993:73). A study by Young (1982) also found that Chinese speakers tend to present background information about a topic prior to arriving at the main point of their message. This tendency appears to apply not only to the presentation of information in, for example, business meetings, but also in the presentation of requests.

189 Okazaki concludes that “in Japanese conversation, a speaker’s point is frequently

missing on the surface. Listeners are expected to be sensitive enough to interpret the point

and understand where the conversation is headed by the way the speakers use

contextualization cues” (1993:71). In the case of problem-reporting sequences in

Japanese, sometimes even the problem itself will not be explicitly expressed, yet the

interlocutor can still ‘read between the lines’ and perceive what was intended (an example of such a sequence appears in Appendix D, and will be discussed in more detail in

Chapter 6). This is not done through sheer guess-work. Rather, the larger generic frame—transacting business in Japanese on the telephone—together with certain register features, contextualization cues, and the fact that the participants have experienced similar interactions in the past, aids in the interpretation of a given speaker’s utterance and signals to the participants what interpretation(s) would be likely in that context.

4.3.6 Ellipsis and uti/soto social deixis

Hinds (1982) has referred to missing elements in Japanese conversation as a form of ellipsis:

Conversational interactants require fewer overt clues in the form of spoken words to carry on successful communication.... [T]he high incidence of elliptical utterances forces the addressee to be much more receptive to subtle and transitory clues.... [T]he typical Japanese interactant is sensitive to conversational interaction to a greater degree than the American counterpart. (Hinds 1982:70)

Monane (1981) has argued that there are two different categories of ellipsis in the languages of the world, including Japanese; she refers to these as Syntactic and

Informational Ellipsis. An example of syntactic ellipsis in Japanese is the omission of the subject; Martin (1975:185) has noted that “The frequency with which a subject is NOT explicitly stated—even as a subdued theme—may be as high as 74 percent of the

190 sentences in a discourse, though it is lower in expository material such as news programs.”-^ Such ellipsis is possible because the unmentioned information may be recovered from contextual cues and prior text. Consider the following example from the

Kanto data corpus, in which a male caller to the Tokyo Bookstore has been asking about the possibility of receiving an estimate for an order of books. The receptionist who takes his call, Ms. Yamada, responds:

(4-9) 1 A: Zyaa, ano: ima ka—ima kara nagasite itadakereba: well HES FS now from send-ger receive-ipf-pot-prv (i)

‘Well, um, from no—from now, if (you) could send (us) (a fax),’

2 C: Ee. ACK

‘Mhm.’

3 A: sugu ni, omitumorisyo otukuri itasimasii immediately estimate make-ipf (

‘(we) will immediately make (an) estimate,’

4C: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

5 A: de waribiki mo sasite itadakimasu no de and discount also do-ipf-caus-ger receive from out-grp-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘and (we)’ll also take the liberty of (giving you a) discount, so....’

6 C: A, naruhodo. oh indeed

Oh, really?’

-^Similar figures appear in Clancy (1980:133); according to Wetzel (1994:78-9), Clancy found that “Japanese speakers used ellipsis in 73 percent o f the places where a nominal was possible, compared to 20 percent in English.”

191 Note that in each of Ms. Yamada's utterances, the grammatical subjects—that is, the equivalents of ‘you’ {anata) and ‘we’ (yvatasi-domo )—are not specified.^® This is due to several contextual factors. First, in a telephone conversation such as this that is limited to two participants, any requests or questions which one speaker utters are generally addressed to the other party (or the company that s/he represents) on the telephone. If more specification were necessary— for example if the request concerned a third party who may or may not be present—that information would of course be specified, unless reference to that third person could be expected to be understood because of recent focus or mention in the discourse. In this conversation, however, the only participants involved are the caller and Ms. Yamada, so it is already clear for whom the request is intended.

Secondly, Ms. Yamada’s use of the pattern I-te itadakimasu!, that is, the gerund of the main verb followed by the distal style, humble polite auxiliary meaning ‘receive’, illustrates how Japanese verbals of giving and receiving may be used to index uti/soto relations in Japanese. In traditional pragmatic terms, this usage would be seen as an example of social deixis, which Levinson (1983:63) has described as “the encoding of social distinctions that are relevant to participant roles, particularly aspects of the social relationship holding between the speaker and the addressee(s) or speaker and some referent.’’ However, as we have demonstrated through several examples, while the deictic anchor point for Indo-European languages may be the speaker, for Japanese it is the uti, which Wetzel (1994) has aptly termed ‘the movable self.’ Minimally theuti includes the speaker, but depending upon the speaker’s viewpoint of the moment, it can also include members of the speaker’s in-group— the makeup of which is constantly shifting. In the case of (4-9), Ms. Yamada is probably not merely referring to herself, but rather to her

^^Hinds and Monane would seem to suggest that the lack of specification of such subjects indicates ellipsis. Note, however, that to say there is ellipsis suggests that there is evidence supporting the existence of such subjects in the first place— an issue which is open to debate.

192 immediate section (Sales) or perhaps even to the company as a whole— hence the English gloss for her request, ‘Well...if (you) could send (us) a fax....”

Thus while linguists studying Indo-European languages are primarily concerned with the notion of person, and subsequently also with syntactic ellipsis and the anaphoric function of pronouns, Wetzel (1994:79ff) has argued that for Japanese, the issue instead is uti/soto social deixis. By examining the many linguistic manifestations of the uti/soto dichotomy, we can develop a better understanding of “the complex interrelationship between language and its sociocultural setting” in Japanese. In terms of the present study, an analysis of uti/soto deixis can help to clarify the role relationships obtaining among speakers in conversations such as (4-9), which to an untrained Western eye might appear to lack a specification of person. As Wetzel (1994:84) notes, “C/h makes the link between language and social organization explicit.”

The second kind of ellipsis which Monane discussed is informational ellipsis; this involves the omission of propositional information. For example, in the utterance Otya ga hairimasita kedo... (The tea is ready, but...’), what is missing is an explicit invitation to the addressee (such as nonii ni irassyatte kudasai, ‘please come and have some.’)

Monane argues that in Japanese, informational ellipsis

enables the speaker to fulfill certain obligations and expectations that Japanese culture demands. Informational Ellipsis enables the speaker, particularly, to fulfill a basic Japanese cultural directive: Do not express overtly, in certain cultural situations, certain kinds of information. Signal these only, utilizing particular linguistic cues. Allow the unexpressed units of information and their meanings to be cognitively constructed by the listener through the listener’s understanding, within these cultural contexts, of these particular linguistic cues and of the culturally-based meanings which they signal.^'

3'Monane points out that informational ellipsis of course also occurs in English, as in the case of the utterance “She is a very pretty girl, but....” What has been elided here is the speaker’s negative evaluation of the girl, which the speaker expects the listener to understand.

193 In the example given above, Otya ga hairimasita kedo..., the “linguistic cue” is

the phrase particlekedo (“but'), which signals to the (culturally aware) listener that the

information which might have followed {nomi ni irassyatte kudasai) has been omitted.

Monane notes that when informational ellipsis occurs in complex sentences, “it is the subordinate clause plus a linguistic cue that is overtly expressed. The main clause, with

its direct message, is the construction that Japanese culture prescribes should be ellipted”

(1981:10).

Despite the lack of overtly specified information in such examples, Japanese native speakers (and well-trained learners) have no difficulty in recovering the speaker’s intent. In the case of Otya ga hairimasita kedo, the listener would interpret the utterance as an invitation or offer to have some tea. Learners who are not acquainted with this type of ellipsis in Japanese might encounter more difficulty in comprehension, however. We will return to this issue in Chapter 6 when we consider some of the ways in which

Japanese speakers may extend offers of assistance in business transactional telephone conversations. Note also that several of the examples of offers cited in the discussion of

Fukushima and Iwata’s (1987) study in section 2.8.2.1 of this paper represent informational ellipsis.

Whether or not the lack of complete specification in Japanese conversation actually constitutes ellipsis is a question deserving of more scholarly attention. Although this is beyond the scope of this study, I would note that labeling such behavior as “ellipsis” would seem to derive from a Western/Romance language perspective. To speak of

“ellipsis” is to suggest that something which should have been specified has been omitted; this may be misleading if in fact the “something” was not necessary in the first place.^-

^“Clancy (1982:65) has noted that in narratives, “by far the most common form o f reference for previously mentioned characters in Japanese is ellipsis, i.e. complete omission;” this tendency was particularly pronounced in spoken, as opposed to written narratives. Clancy found that the resulting

194 For example, while in English the explicit marking/indication of the subject of a sentence is usually grammatically necessary,3^ in Japanese, this is not the case. As we have seen, in many situations, the subject need not be specified because it is recoverable from context. Moreover, certain socially deictic information is encoded in Japanese verbal forms such as the humble and honorific polite, which would indicate to a listener familiar with the language whether the speaker is referring to him/herself (and/or an in-group member), or to an out-group member. These differences in referential preferences between the two languages suggest potential areas of difficulty for learners of Japanese, and underscore the importance of providing linguistically and culturally appropriate models in the classroom.^**

4.3.7 Establishing common ground (nemawasi) through the extended predicate (EP) construction

4.3.7.1 Nemawasi

Nemawasi is a compound of two Japanese words, ne (‘root’) and mawasi

(‘wrap around’). The expression originated as a gardening term (‘spadework’) which referred to the pruning back of the root ball of a tree one or two years prior to its transplanting. The completion of this ‘preparation work’ or ‘groundwork’ in advance makes it possible to transfer the root ball without injuring the tree.

potential ambiguity to the listener “in many cases...was either quickly resolved by the nature of the events being recounted, or else was not important enough to concern the listener, but there were times when the listener did interrupt the speaker to clarify reference” (Clancy 1982:65-6). See also Kataoka (1989) and Wetzel (1984). Although there are of course counterexamples, such as “Hope you can come!”, “Glad you could make it.”, and the like. 3'^An example of inappropriate models are the Japanese textbooks which include conversations that are replete with the personal referents anata and watasi in contexts in which such explicit reference would be strange.

195 The word nemawasi is now also used in the business world to refer to the

‘groundwork’ that precedes formal decision making in Japan. By obtaining the consensus of all parties involved prior to the conclusion of an issue, a common ground is established among those involved which helps to maintain harmony.

4.3.7.2 The extended predicate (EP) construction

As Noda ( 1990) has observed, one of the ways in which this common ground may be achieved linguistically is through various uses of the extended predicate (EP) construction. Let us consider one illustration of the many ways in which the EP may be used, taking an example from the data for this study:

(4-10) (Sequence following the opening section of a telephone conversation in which A and B have identified themselves)

A: Tanaka-san irassyaimasu ka? Ms. Tanaka be-ipf (T) Q

‘Is Ms. Tanaka (in)?’

B: Tadaima gaisyutu site ini n desu ga... just now outside room do-ger be-ipf EP but

‘It’s that (she) is out right now, but....’

In this example, the caller (A) inquires as to whether Ms. Tanaka is in, i.e., available, and is told by the secretary (B) that she is out at the moment. Although the secretary might have responded using the corresponding non-extended predicate form

{Tadaima gaisyutu site imasu ga...), the addition of the EP, and in particular, the nominal n, enables her to connect the information that precedes and is nominalized by n to the larger discourse frame, in order to explain and thereby recharacterize the situation. In the case of (4-10), what she is explaining is the fact that Ms. Tanaka did not come onto the line, following the caller’s request.

196 We could provide a more explicit gloss for the secretary’s utterance, such as the

following: “The reason she is not answering the telephone is that she is out of the office just now.” Different glosses stating other reasons for Ms. Tanaka’s absence would

certainly be possible as well. However, by using the gloss given in (4-10), we can more

faithfully convey what is actually verbalized by the secretary; the remainder is to be

inferred by the caller from the immediate context of the telephone call itself. The task of

recovering this information is not difficult; had Ms. Tanaka actually come to the phone, the secretary’s explanation would not have been necessary. However, the fact that the

secretary is still on the line suggests a different situation, i.e., that Ms. Tanaka is not available. Although this information may be new to the caller, the EP functions to mark it as information that is given and nonchallengeable, and then connect it to the present discourse situation. This serves to broaden the ‘common ground’ between the participants.

As Noda (1981) and Ray (1989) have emphasized, it is actually the nominal no

(or its alternant n) which alerts the listener to the fact that the speaker is trying to relate the new information marked by the EP to the immediately preceding discourse or the larger communicative context. By using n(o), the speaker can therefore recharacterize the immediate discourse situation. Noda (1990:95) notes.

The use of the extended predicate nurtures ... solidarity by encoding the speaker’s re-characterization of a specific situation shared by other conversation participants. It is a strategy like others that Brown and Levinson include in ‘positive politeness.’...The extended predicate is used as a strategy of nemawasi when it is used with an immediately following clause particle ga, ke(re)do, or ke(re)domo,^^ all of which have the same basic function of making the preceding proposition open-ended.

^^The term ‘conjunctive particle’ will be used in this thesis instead o f ‘clause particle’ to refer to ga, kedo and the like.

197 In example (4-10), the speaker does in fact follow the extended predicate with a conjunctive particle— in this case, ga—resulting in an open-ended utterance. Possible interpretations of what might have followed this particle include "is there anything I may help you with?” or “Would you like to leave a message?”

Noda’s discussion of nemawasi and the extended predicate is primarily concerned with conflict situations that are characterized by ‘attack’ and ‘defense’ discourse; her data samples are taken from student conversations, a Diet (Japanese parliament) session, and an academic symposium. However, her analysis also applies to the reporting of problems in business transactional telephone calls, because such reports are potential sources of conflict between service recipients and service providers. Indeed, we should note that nemawasi is a strategy which the Japanese employ in any negotiation, not just those involving conflict.

4.4 Japan as a high context culture

Taken together, the folk metalanguage and discourse moves that we have discussed in this chapter provide valuable insights into the shared expectations of the

Japanese regarding the give and take of conversation. As a speaker, one is expected to assume a stance of reserve, or enryo, in making one’s needs, desires and opinions known to others; yet as a listener, one is expected to be attuned to the various messages that are perhaps stated indirectly or not at all in the speech and behavior of others.

Hall (1976:91) uses the term "high-context” to characterize this type of interaction, noting that “a high-context (HC) communication or message is one in which most of the information is either in the physical context or internalized in the person, while very little is in the coded, explicit, transmitted part of the message.” More specifically, he notes

When talking about something that they have on their minds, a high- context individual will expect his interlocutor to know what’s bothering

198 him, so that he doesn’t have to be specific. The result is that he will talk around and around the point, in effect putting all the pieces in place except the crucial one. Placing it properly—this keystone—is the role of his interlocutor. To do this for him is an insult and a violation of his individuality. (1976:113)

This description echoes that of Lebra given above regarding omoiyari in Japanese communication. Although Hall and Lebra may have been referring here to informal face- to-face interactions, we will see later through various excerpts from the data corpus that this type of behavior applies to Japanese business transactional telephone conversations as well.

4.5 High context culture as it applies to Japanese business transactional telephone calls: A preview

For example, if a company employee finds it necessary to contact a service provider about a problem—perhaps regarding the incomplete delivery of her company’s goods to a customer—that employee (the service recipient) will be very reluctant to verbalize the specific nature of the problem, at least at the outset of the conversation. To do so would be face-threatening to her interlocutor,because it would explicitly indicate that the service provider had failed in its duties as a company. In such situations callers will also often avoid making explicit requests for assistance or resolution of the problem.

Such specificity is seen as unnecessary; instead, the preferred means by which such problems appear to be communicated is by a sequential, multi-stage presentation of details involved in the transaction—for example, the dispatch date of the shipment, the customer’s name, the place from and/or to which the packages were to be sent, and so forth. Particularly if the business relationship between the service recipient and the service

the sense of “institutional, status-based” face, as suggested by Harris (1984, cited in Brown and Levinson 1987).

199 provider Is well established—and it is indeed common for Japanese businesses to rely, for example, upon one or two shipping services rather than several—the knowledge and experience already shared by the participants regarding such transactions represent an important ground against which any new information is understood. The burden then rests upon the shoulders of the service provider to confirm that there is a problem and to indicate that s/he (and/or members of the company) will take steps toward remedying it.

If the service recipient has explained the nature of the problem sufficiently and the person with whom s/he is speaking is capable of handling the problem (i.e., that person does not need to transfer the call to another colleague or section of the company), an offer of assistance in this context will often take the form of a statement, rather than a question.

Essentially the service provider, perceiving the problem and aware of his/her role relationship to the service recipient, promises to see to it that the matter is taken care of, without asking whether or not that is what the service recipient would like the service provider to do. This is one example of the “keystone” to which Hall referred in the passage quoted earlier; it is the main point which the service recipient hoped would be perceived. Since the service recipient expects the service provider to fill in what is implied, the declarative stance in the service provider’s ensuing offer, which appears to give the service recipient no options, is not considered pushy or ositukegamasii}'^

4 .6 The use of no de in offers of assistance

The impact of an offer made in the declarative form can be softened through the use of no de, the gerund of the extended predicate. As we have seen, the extended predicate essentially functions to subordinate the proposition in the preceding clause and connect it to the larger discourse context. A speaker who uses the EP assumes that this

^^The reader will recall the quote from Tsuruta et al. above regarding the notionki o kikaseni koto and the fact that acting upon one’s perceptions is not considered pushy.

200 connection between the subordinate clause and the present discourse situation is something that is shared or sharable with the interlocutor—in other words, it is something accessible or retrievable by both participants. By using the EP, a speaker also leaves the sentence open-ended, and defers its final interpretation to the addressee.

McGloin (1980:141) has argued that similar subordination of a proposition with n desu kedo “has the function of giving background information,” and she believes that as a result the utterance is more polite than the same utterance used without n desu kedo.

However, Noda (1990) and Takatsu (1991) have challenged McGloin’s analysis, saying thatkedo itself, rather thann(o) desu, is what signals that something more will be forthcoming in the discourse.^* Takatsu further argues that

when the addressee hears N(0) DESU, s/he receives the signal that the speaker is linking the present statement to what the addressee has just been talking about....It is not a matter of presenting new information as if it were (mown, as McGloin suggests, but of introducing information which is linked to what has preceded it. What is presented as ‘known’ is not the proposition embraced by NO DA itself..., but the particular element of the context which makes that proposition relevant and serves to anchor it within the discourse as a whole. (1991:172)

The result, Takatsu contends, is that the use of no desu “gives cohesion to the discourse,”

in that it draws attention to the link between the proposition embraced by it and the context in which this proposition appears. It indicates that the whole proposition is referring either to the preceding utterance(s) in the conversation or to the situation in which the conversation takes place. In other words, it provides cohesion with either the linguistic or the extra- linguistic context. NO DA provides cohesion not only to the previous statement or to the situation of the utterance but also, in a sense, between the speaker and the addressee. The speaker requests the addressee’s cooperation in the interpretation of the utterance. (1991:168)

^*This supports Monane’s observation that clause particles such as kedo serve as contextualization cues which signal to the listener that something has been omitted.

201 In this regard, it is useful to recall an example from the data that we considered earlier in Chapter 1. For reference, the conversation is presented again below as (4-11):

(4-11) Discourse cohesion through the use of the form /-masu no del

1 A: Tadaima seki hazusite- ‘masite, modotte- kite- justnow seat leave-ger be-ger retum-ger come-ger

inai n desu ga: be-neg-ipf EP but

‘It’s that (she)’s away from her desk right now, and hasn’t returned, but...’

2 C: A SCO desu ka. Wakarimasita. [pause] oh so CP-ipf Q become clear-pf

‘Oh, is that so. I see.’

3 A: Yorosikereba, kotira no hoo kara, orikaesi: good-prv this CN side from return

odenwa simasyoo ka? telephone call do-ipf-cns Q

‘If (you) like, shall (we/I) call (you) back?’

4 C: E:to: sosita:ra: HES in that case

‘Um, in that case,’

5 A: Hai. [pause] ACK

‘Yes.’

6 C: A, dekimasitara, onegai dekimasu desyoo ka. oh be able-cnd request-ipf-pot (-t) CP-tent Q

Oh, if possible, could (you) do (that)?’

7 A: Hai, e:to, Inaisi-san. ACK HES Mr. Inaishi

‘Yes, um, Mr. Inaishi.’

202 8 C: I garas i to moosimasu. Igarashi QT be called-ipf

‘(D’m Igarashi.’

9 A: A. Igarasi-san. Sumimasen. Situree simasita. oh Mr. Igarashi be sorry-ipf rudeness do-pf

‘Oh, Mr. Igarashi. (I)’m sorry. Excuse me [for what I did].’

10 A: Zyaa, anoo: modorimasitara kotira kara well then HES retum-cnd this side from

gorenraku sum yoo ni itasimasii no de: contact-ipf (i) in order do-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Well then, um, (we/I)’II see to it that (someone) contacts (you) once (she)’s back.’

11 C; A, hai. oh ACK

OK.’

Here we see that a secretary, Ms. Sasaki, uses the form/-masu no del in order to provide an offer of grounded assurance (GA) that she would see to it that someone in her office would contact the caller.

Noda’s (1981) analysis of no desu is even more specific, arguing that the

“underlying single function of the noun no seems to be that of pointing or referring” (21-

2). She notes that the sentence Haruko ga katta no desu has two possible interpretations, as follows:

{A-\2) Haruko ga katta no desu. Haruko SUB buy-pf CP-ipf

(a) [Some thing/object X] is the one that Haruko has bought.’ (b) “It’s that Haruko has bought X.”

203 In the first interpretation, no refers to what Hanako has bought, while in the second, it refers to the "situation o f Haruko’s buying something” (Noda 1981:22, italics mine). It is this latter usage of no desu which Noda calls the extended predicate interpretation, and it is this interpretation which I will argue applies to the use of no in offers of assistance in

Japanese.

Thus, when a service provider, after listening to the service recipient’s account of the details of the problem, indicates that s/he will look into it by saying, for example, o sirabe itasimasu no de, the use of no here functions to point to the account of the problem provided in the previous discourse. It also refers to the unstated but implied request for assistance made by the service recipient. In other words, the service provider is not only indicating that s/he (or someone in the office) will check into the matter, but also that they are doing so in response to the immediately preceding situation as presented in the discourse.^’

Takatsu (1991:173) has also argued that the use of no desu is particularly common in the expression of intentions or desires, noting that “if NO DA is deleted, the utterance sounds as if the intention or desire is being asserted one-sidedly, and as if no account is being taken of the addressee.” As an illustration of this point, she provides the following examples:^

(4-13) Contrasting use/non-use of n(o) desu when expressing intention or desire

a. Ana, tyotto, miti o otazune sitai N(0) DESU ga, HES just way OBJ inquire-ipf-des (>1) EP but

^^Utterances which incorporate the EP are therefore an excellent example of what Bakhtin referred to as the responsive nature of the utterance. have changed the grammatical information and abbreviations from those found in Takatsu’s glosses in order to maintain consistency with my own.

204 Nyiiukassiiru byooin wa dotira no hoogaku desyoo ka. Newcastle hospital TOP which CN direction CP-tent Q

‘Excuse me, it’s that I’d like to ask the way, but in which direction would Newcastle Hospital be?’

b.?? Ano, tyotto. miti o otazune sitai ga,.... HES just way OBJ inquire-ipf-des (i) but

c.?? Ano, tyotto. miti o otazune sum N DESU ga. HES just way OBJ inquire-ipf(i) EP but

d. Ano, tyotto, miti 0 otazune simasu N(0) DESU ga, HES just way OBJ inquire-ipf (i) EP but

Taken together with Noda’s analysis, we see that the use of no can reassure the addressee that the speaker is aware of the addressee’s feelings.

We have seen that offers in such contexts may be responses to perceived, rather than explicitly expressed, needs and desires of a service recipient who has encountered a problem (but who may be refraining from complaining about it overtly). This is one example of what Ishii called enryo-sassi communication. When the service provider extends an offer using the pattern /-masu no del, we have a similar situation, in that the offerer is refraining from explicitly stating something, and anticipates that her interlocutor will fill in the rest. As Takatsu (1991:174-5) observes.

It is in this way that NO DA provides cohesion not only with the previous statement or the situation of the utterance but also, in a sense, between the speaker and the addressee. The speaker requests the addressee’s cooperation in the interpretation of the utterance. It is as if to say, “You know, and I know, why I say this. I don’t need to spell it out to you.”’

This too is an example of what Hall termed “high-context” communication.

In contrast, if the service provider is unsure as to whether or not the service recipient is requesting a particular service, or if he is referring to something that is not

205 recoverable (i.e., mentioned or assumed) in the immediately preceding discourse, the

offer may take the form of a question (e.g. l-masyoo ka?/).

What is particularly notable when we examine Japanese business transactional telephone conversations is the relative infrequence with which the service provider uses the interrogative l-masyoo tu ? /pattern in offers of assistance. This undoubtedly is due in no small part to the expectations that the participants bring to the conversation. Service recipients can assume that service providers, when made aware of a problem, will see to its resolution, because the shared interests of the two parties depend upon continued successful interactions and transactions.

4.7 Conclusions

We have observed in this chapter that the nature of communication in Japan is highly contextualized, incorporating uti/soto deixis, omoiyari, kikubari, and enryo- sassi strategies. It should therefore come as no surprise that Americans accustomed to a more explicit means of communication (that is, “low-context” communication) often find interactions with the Japanese to be perplexing. A common complaint by American listeners is that they cannot ascertain the “point” of a Japanese speaker’s discourse. This problem becomes particularly acute on the telephone, when cues that might have been evident in the physical context in face-to-face interactions are no longer accessible.

Maruyama ( 1990) reports that students of Japanese as a second language who obtained jobs in Japan upon completion of their language studies often encountered difficulties understanding the true intention of their interlocutors, as well as the overall structure of

Japanese discourse. Many indicated that they wished they might have been given more guidance in these areas through their instruction.

It would therefore appear that more detailed, contextually situated accounts of the nature of Japanese discourse are in order if we are to successfully train our students to

206 participate effectively in interactions with native Japanese speakers. The focus in this study on the offering of services in business transactional telephone conversations is an attempt toward this goal. It is important to note, however, that our findings regarding language use in one particular context with certain types of participants may indeed not extend to other particular contexts with different participants. Indeed, if communication in a high context culture is as contextually dependent as Hall suggests, we might expect different conventions of language-in-use to obtain in different situations.

207 CHAPTER 5

BUSINESS TRANSACTIONAL TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS

5.1 Introduction

In this chapter, I will describe the overall nature of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (JBTC hereafter). This description will include a detailed account of the compositional structure of these conversations in terms of a series of steps within larger sections.' In the process of describing these steps, I will also point out certain stylistic and register features of JBTC, such as the ways in which speakers express self- identifications and salutations.- It is through the overall confluence of these structural, stylistic and register features, in addition to the presence of certain thematic content (i.e., discussion of business transactions) that we may identify a text as a member of this genre, although it is not necessary for every feature to be present in order for a text to represent the genre. Moreover, there are certain register features which will be identified that may also be found in non-business (e.g. personal) conversations; we can therefore postulate a more general “telephone register” which subsumes the more specific “business transactional telephone register” that I describe here.

This point leads to another, which is that the genre described herein, that of business transactional telephone conversations, actually represents a sub-genre of a larger generic category, that of telephone conversations in general. There will of course be many

'For reference, these have been summarized in Figure 5.1, which appears in Section 5.4 below. -Register features are summarized in Figure 5.2, which appears in Section 5.4 below.

208 similarities in compositional structure, register and even style between the two; however,

there are also important differences, which I will point out over the course of the analysis

below. The entire discussion will be supported with numerous contextualized examples

from the Kanto and Kansai corpora.

5.2 Japanese business transactional telephone calls in the data corpora

Business-related calls in the Kanto and Kansai corpora were of two general types:

(a) in-house business discussions, and (b) transaction-oriented business between service- recipients and service-providers. This analysis will primarily be concerned with calls of the latter type.

Issues discussed in the in-house calls involved details of the initiation, maintenance, and/or conclusion of business transactions with customers and other service providers, as well as various arrangements for meetings, publications, and other ongoing cooperative projects. Conversations also frequently touched on in-office preparations for shipments, such as the preparation of labels, boxes, and the like.

Calls between service recipients and service providers included: (a) orders of goods such as books and food; (b) status updates concerning backordered goods; (c) reports of problems concerning the delivery of goods such as food or books, and the provision of services such as bank statements; (d) confirmations of the delivery of goods

(which proved to be a masked form of problems reporting); (e) requests for (re)shipment or pickup of goods; and (f) inquiries regarding payments for goods and services, credits for returned shipments, and problems with account balances. Among these, I have selected those of type (c) and (d)—that is, reports of problems concerning the delivery of goods and the provision of services, as well as confirmations of delivery—as the focus of this study. I will consider these as a subset of the larger group of possible business

209 transactions that may be handled by telephone, and propose that they might constitute a

subgenre of their own.

5.3 Business transactional telephone calls vs. service encounters

In discussing business transactional telephone conversations as a genre, I am

proposing to identify what some might consider to be a rather narrow discourse

community, that of Japanese callers and call recipients who interact on the telephone in

order to initiate, maintain, and/or conclude matters relating to business transactions such

as the purchase of food, books, airline tickets, and the like.^ Nevertheless, it is important to recognize that the genre of business transactional telephone conversations clearly shares certain elements with the type of interactions found in the larger genre of service encounters, since the latter involves customers and service providers who interact face-to- face in order to conduct business related to goods and services provided at locations such as a post office, bank, travel agency, or train station ticket window.-*

There are also fundamental differences between the two types of encounter. First, although the mode of interaction in business transactional telephone conversations continues to be aural, the channel of interaction differs, i.e., speakers interact via the telephone, rather than face-to-face. This has significant consequences for the way in which the interaction unfolds. For example, in the case of service encounters a customer may Initiate a transaction by attracting a clerk’s attention, either by approaching a clerk in

^As stated in section 5.2, however, the specific examples I will discuss in this study involve the report of problems relating to the delivery of goods and the provision of services. "*For a discussion o f the use of directive speech acts in these types of encounters in Japan, see Sukle (1994). The number of studies regarding service encounters in Japanese is generally limited: see for example Sugito and Sawaki (1977, described below); Tsuda (1984), which compares sales talk in both Japan and the United States; and N. Yamada (1992), which compares sales talk in Japanese by native and non-native speakers in Australia. Szatrowski (1992b, 1993) has analyzed the use o f invitations within sales-related conversations on the telephone, but these conversations are not customer-initiated service encounters. The literature concerning service encounters in English is more substantial; see Merritt (1976a, 1976b, 1978); Coupland (1983); Ventola (1983, 1984, 1987), and Kipers (1986).

210 person and/or by requesting assistance verbally. Alternatively, a clerk may offer assistance in a verbal bid for service,^ or may indicate his/her availability for service through eye contact with the customer. In the case of business transactional telephone conversations, however, the customer must initiate the transaction by placing a telephone call to the service provider, and must also specify the person or department s/he wishes to contact. In service encounters, the customer can often accomplish this selection process non-verbally, merely by walking up to the particular window at a bank or post office which handles the type of business s/he wishes to initiate.'^

Similarly, in face-to-face service encounters a customer can often indicate the purpose of his/her visit nonverbally, for example through the proffering of a cash withdrawal slip at a bank teller window or a claim ticket for pictures at a film processing shop. Sugito and Sawaki (1977) have pointed out that Japanese customers can complete rudimentary shopping tasks such as the purchase of cigarettes, newspapers, or even groceries without uttering a single word.^ Upon completion of the transaction, customers also need not respond to a clerk’s utterance of thanks.* Taken together, this indicates that many elements of a service encounter, but particularly the opening and closing, may be realized non-verbally. On the telephone, however, these are almost always given verbal expression. The primary goal of this chapter is therefore to examine the beginnings, middles, and ends of actual telephone calls in order to identify structural similarities

^Examples of service bids are ‘May I help you?’ in English, and'irassyaimase ’ in Japanese. The latter is sometimes used more generally as a welcome when customers enter a store than as a specific bid in one- on-one encounters, however. ®In the telephone conversation presented in Appendix F, the service recipient actually accomplishes this selection non-verbally via Worldwide Bank’s automated pushbutton menu. ^Note that this might not be true in the case of transactions at a neighborhood market, where the participants are likely to be well-acquainted and would therefore probably engage in some sort of conversation. *Since this is not always the custom in the United States, Japanese learners whose base language is American English often find that adjusting to this practice takes a conscious effort.

211 among these calls and point out the particular verbal means which customers and service

providers employ as they interact.

One final way in which business telephone transactions differ from face-to-face

service encounters is that speakers cannot rely on non-verbal cues such as head nods and

head shakes for feedback throughout the conversation. We might therefore predict that

verbal back-channel cues assume a more important role in telephone discourse, and

indeed, we will see in the Japanese business transactional telephone calls which I discuss

in this chapter and the next that participants actively elicit and produce aizuti (‘back- channel’).

5.4 Overall structure and identifying register features’

Most of the business transactional telephone conversations examined for this study were found to have five distinct sections, as follows. First, the conversations begin with an opening section which usually includes self-identification by both parties, salutations acknowledging the ongoing business relationship between the two companies, and, in some cases, a request by the caller to speak with a different person. The opening section is followed by a transition section, in which the caller states the general nature of the business transaction which s/he would like to discuss. The third section consists of the actual discussion of one or more business transactions. Upon completion of this discussion, the participants engage in a pre-closing exchange in which they restate or summarize the matters agreed upon in the main body of their conversation. If a different transaction needs to be discussed, it will be brought up at this time, and the conversation will go back through the transitional, discussion, and pre-closing stages. If one or both of

’Steps within the overall structure and register features are presented in bold print the first time they appear in the text. The reader is encouraged to refer to Figures 5 .1 and 5.2 for reference while following the description.

212 the parties have not provided their names in the opening section, there may be a query regarding such identification, or else the participant(s) may volunteer a self-identification.

Finally, the conversation ends with leave-taking by both parties.

These five sections are summarized in Figure 5.1 on page 215. Steps within the overall structure of the conversation which are optional are indicated in parentheses. For example, a caller may request to speak with someone other than the initial call recipient. If the requested person is available and the call is successfully transferred, the conversation will most likely continue through the remaining four sections described above. However, if the requested person is not available, either the caller or the call recipient may offer to call back, after which point the two parties will enter the closing section of the conversation and take their leave of each other.

Another possible variation of the overall structure of these conversations entails cases in which one speaker or the other, during the pre-closing section, initiates the discussion of an additional item of business. Figure 5.1 therefore also includes the possibility of recursion to the transition and discussion sections.

The overall structure of JBTC shares numerous family resemblances with

Japanese personal telephone conversations and, moreover, telephone conversations in general (i.e. in other languages). Some of these similarities arise from the medium or channel through which the conversation takes place—what Halliday calls “mode.” The opening section is one example. Because the participants are not engaged in a face-to-face interaction in which they might recognize each other non-verbally, i.e., on sight, it is necessary for them to first engage in a verbal expression of self-identification, often prior to any exchange of greetings. Moreover, while in a face-to-face encounter participants may choose with whom they wish speak, on the telephone a caller must interact with the initial call recipient, whoever that may be (recently the likelihood of reaching a

213 computerized menu has increased), and then, if necessary, request to speak with a

different party. An exchange of greetings may follow. These, then, are the steps which

might entail the opening section of a telephone conversation in any language.

What distinguishes JBTC from Japanese personal telephone conversations and conversations in other languages are the actual utterances or moves which speakers adopt within, for example, the opening section of a conversation, as well as the particular sequence in which those moves appear. Moreover, there may be certain steps or moves which are a feature of JBTC which are inappropriate in personal telephone calls. Figure

5.2 on page 216 provides a summary of the moves which appeared regularly in the data corpus for this study; I refer to these as “register features” because they constitute a certain variety of language which is used among speakers in this specific business context.

214 I. Opening 1. (Opening greeting and) Self-identification by both parties (Exchange of personal greetings) (Request for confirmation of self-identification)

2. Salutations

3. (Request to speak with different person) (Indication that requested person is not available) (Offer to have different person call back) (Offer by caller to call again later) (Transfer to different person) (Recursion to self-identification, greetings, and/or salutation steps)

II. Transition to discussion of business transaction(s) 4. Attention focuser

5. General statement of business matter to be discussed

III. Discussion of business transaction(s)

IV. Pre-closing 6. Summary/restatement of matters agreed upon within the conversation (Recursion to Section U and/or HI) (Promise of future contact)

V . C losing 7. (Request for identification of one or both parties) (Self-identification by one or both parties) 8. Leave-taking

Figure 5.1 : Overall sUucture of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations

215 (1) (Opening greeting and) Self-identiOcation by call recipient For outside calls: ( Ohayoo gozaimasu.) [company name] de gozaimasu^^ For in-house calls: [last name] desu

(2) Self-identincation by caller Unfamiliar caller: [company name] no [branch/location name] no [last name] to moosimasu ga... Familiar caller: [company name] no [last name] desu ga...

(3) Salutations To out-group callers: Osewa ni natte-orimasu. To out-group call recipients: Osewa ni narimasu. To in-group callers: Otukaresama desu.

(4) Expressions used to indicate that employees are not available (a) gaisyutu site orimasu (b) seki hazusite-ru n desu keredomo... (c) sekkyaku-tyuu (na n) desu (ga).... (d) hoka no denwa de hanasi-tyuu (na n) desu (e) mada syussya site (i)nai n desu keredomo (f) oyasumi o itadaite-(i)tnasu

(5) Terms of address (a) [last nd.ms,]-sama (b) [company name]-mma

(6) Inquiry regarding addressee’s identity (a) Situree desu kedo....

(7) Self-identiHcation in pre-closing section (a) [last name] to moosimasu/moosimasita (no de). (b) [last name] (no de).

Figure 5.2: Register features of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations

*®One representative pattern is provided for each example in Figure 5.2; as described in the text, there are often many variations, depending upon stylistic considerations (e.g. polite vs. plain style).

216 5.4.1 Opening

Japanese business transactional telephone conversations may be partially identified by the nature in which those conversations begin—that is, by the way in which participants identify themselves, greet each other, exchange salutations, and so forth. This section will describe the steps which speakers typically follow in the opening segments of these conversations.

5.4.1.1 Step 1: Self-identification by both parties

5.4.1.1.1 Self identification by the call recipient

The call recipient speaks first in response to the summons of the telephone ring.

The minimal form of self-identifîcation hy the call recipient for outside calls is the name of the company, usually according to the pattern /[company name] de gozaimasu/.^^ Call recipients in the Kanto and Kansai corpora used this type of self- identification most regularly, and it is a common register feature of business conversations. It is important to note, however, that this type of “group” identification is not limited to business circles, but rather appears throughout Japanese society, for example through school, club, and other affiliations. As a result, the presence of this self- identification pattern alone would not serve to identify a business transactional telephone conversation; rather, it is its use in conjunction with other features described herein which constitutes business-type usage.

In-house calls are handled somewhat differently from outside calls. Call recipients may respond to a ring on an inside line with Mosi mosi or Hai, and/or may identify themselves by last name only (e.g. (Hat,) Satoo desu)}- In this sense in-house

* * Sometimes the plain imperfective copula, desu, is substituted for de gozaimasu, which is a neutral polite form. '-The same applies to cases in which the call recipient has been notified by a colleague that s/he has a call

217 calls more closely resemble personal telephone calls, in which the call recipient may answer saying {Hai,) mosi mosi, or {Hai,) [last name] desu/de gozaimasu

Compare (5-1), in which a female staff member of a Tokyo book publishing company receives a call from an outside organization, with (5-2), in which the same speaker receives a call on an inside line from a colleague in the bookstore section of her own company:

(5-1 ) Initial segment of a call from an outside organization

1 A: Hai, Tookyoo syoten de gozaimasu:. ACK Tokyo bookstore CP-ipf (+)

Tokyo Bookstore.’

2 C: A, /hhh/ e:to:, Ee-bii-sii Kyooiku Kyookai to oh HES ABC education association QT

moosimasu keredoMO: be called-ipf (i) but

‘Oh, um, (this is) (the) ABC Educational Association, but...’

(5-2) Initial segment of a call from within the same organization

1 A: Hai, Yamada desu. ACK Yamada CP-ipf

‘(This) is Yamada.’

2 C: Omise desu.// store CP-ipf

‘(This) is (the) (book)store.’

from a fellow employee. •^As noted in the transcript of (5-1), the utterance-initial 'Hai’ functions as an acknowledgment, in this case of the incoming call. ''*The entire text of this conversation appears in Appendix G.

218 In conversations with outside organizations, the call recipient may also provide

more specific information such as the section name or the company’s branch location, as

well as his/her own last name. The call recipient announces this modifying information in decreasing order of scale, that is, from company name to section/branch name to the

individual’s name, according to the pattern in (5-3):

(5-3) Self-identification pattern for outside call recipients

[company name] (no) [section/location] (no) [last name] desu/‘^ CN CN CP-ipf (or)

[company name] (no) [section/location] (no) [last name] de gozaimasu. CN CN CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is [last name] (of) [section/location] (of) [company name].’

Thus, for example, an employee named Sato of the Ginza branch of the Kanto Bank might introduce himself in one of the following ways:

(5-4) Illustration of self-identification patterns for outside call recipients

(a) Kantoo-ginkoo no Ginza- siten no Satoo de gozaimasu. Kanto bank CN Ginza branch CN Sato CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is Sato of the Ginza branch of Kanto Bank.’

(b) Kantoo-ginkoo no Satoo de gozaimasu. Kanto bank CN Sato CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is Sato of Kanto Bank.’

‘(This) is Kanto Bank.’

'^The connective no is often dropped, particularly between the company name and the section/location; see the related discussion below concerning caller self-identifications.

219 The order in which these elements are presented reflects Nakane’s (1970) observation that

the Japanese tend to emphasize situational position rather than individual attributes in a

given frame:

[W]hen a Japanese "'faces the outside" (confronts another person) and affixes some position to himself socially he is inclined to give precedence to institution over kind of occupation....In group identification, a frame such as a ‘company’ or ‘association’ is of primary importance; the attribute of the individual is a secondary matter....Such group consciousness and orientation fosters the strength of an institution, and the institutional unit (such as the school or company) is in fact the basis of Japanese social organization. (1970:2-3; emphasis mine)'^

The qualification ‘faces the outside’ is also important here, for as we have seen, call

recipients will adopt different self-identification strategies when taking calls from fellow

(i.e., uti) employees.** This is therefore one way in which the uti/soto distinction is

indexed in Japanese business telephone calls.

5.4.1.1.2 G reetings

If the call occurs in the morning, the call recipient may also precede the self- identification with an opening greeting, ohayoo gozaimasu (‘good morning’). This particular sequence, i.e. /opening greeting + self-identification/, appears to be unique to business telephone conversations; Japanese speakers do not normally answer personal telephone calls in this manner.*^

'^Note, however, that English speakers may also identify themselves in business calls with a similar form, for example, “Sales Department, John Brown.” *^Nakane appears to treat the reference point of a particular speaker’s uti as something that is established and unchanging. However, as both Bachnik (1994) and Wetzel (1994) have noted, the reference point is constantly shifting, depending upon when, where, to whom, and o f whom that person is speaking. **That is, call recipients often will limit the self-identification to /[last name] desiU, omitting company information. *^The same may be said for English-speaking business contexts, except that the situation is far more flexible. That is, greetings related to any time of day, rather than just the morning, are acceptable. For example, call recipients may answer the telephone by saying, ‘Good afternoon [or Good evening], ABC Communications.’ Gamer (1984:104) notes that ‘Hello’ is also acceptable in business offices, “but the preferred greetings are the more formal good morning, good afternoon, and good evening.” Such flexible

220 A separate exchange of greetings may occur later in the conversation after the

participants have identified themselves, as in example (5-5):

(5-5) Greeting and self-identification

1 A: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu:. early (+) Kansai imports CP-ipf (-H)

‘Good morning. Kansai Imports.’

2 C: A, Nomura Syookai Nakagawa desu kedomo. oh Nomura company Nakagawa CP-ipf but

‘Oh, (this) is Nakagawa (of) (the) Nomura Company, but....”

3 A; A, osewa// ni natte 'masu.^° oh assistance LC becoming be-ipf

[‘Oh, thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. early (+)

‘Good morning.’

5 A: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. early (+)

‘Good morning.’

In order to more clearly distinguish between the greetings which appear in 1A and those which appear in lines 4C and 5A of (5-5), we may refer to the latter as ‘personal greetings,’ since they could occur in any type of telephone conversation.-* Imagine, for example, that speaker C in (5-5) had placed a personal call to a friend at work. The friend

usage contrasts markedly with what was observed in the Japanese data corpora used for this study, where there were no cases in which a call recipient answered the phone by sayingKonniti wa (‘good afternoon’) or Konban wa (‘good evening’). -®This is a contracted form of imasu, which is the distal, imperfective form o f the verbal ini, ‘be, exist.’ -•in some cases in the data corpora, personal greetings were not offeredreciprocally, for example, callers occasionally usedkonniti wa (‘good afternoon’) after hearing the call recipient’s self-identification, in order to acknowledge that person.

221 (who would become speaker A, as call recipient) might still answer the phone as in line

1 A, using the distal style ohayoo gozaimasu (because this is extended to any and all callers), but in 4C and 5A, the two would most likely adopt the more familiar, direct form ohayoo.—

5.4.1.1.3 Request for conOrmation of self-identification

If for some reason the caller needs clarification of the party s/he has reached (for example, if the self-identification was difficult to hear, or if the caller wants to confirm that s/he is speaking with a particular person), the caller mayrequest confirmation of the self-identification:

(5-6) Request for confirmation of self-identification^

1 A: Mosi mosi, XX desu. [said very quietly; name is inaudible] hello CP-ipf

‘Hello, (this) is XX.’

2 C: A, mosi mosi? oh hello

‘Oh, hello?’

3 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

4 C: Et.'to: sotira wa: Masutaa Denki desyoo ka. HES that side TOP Master Electric CP-tent Q

‘Um, is this Master Electric?’

—The forms of self-identification by the caller and the subsequent salutation by the call recipient would likely change as well. -^The entire text of this conversation appears in Appendix H.

222 5 A: Hai, soo desu:. Yes so CP-ipf

‘Yes, it is.’

5.4.1.1.4 Self-identifîcation by the caller

A caller may limit his/herself-identifîcation to the company name only, or as we saw with the call recipient’s self-identification, the caller may expand this to include section/branch information as well as his/her own last name. However, callers employ a different predicate in their self-identification from that used by call recipients:

(5-7) Patterns of self-identification by the caller

[company name] (no) [section/location] (no) [last name] desu ke(re)do(mo)... CN CN CP-ipf but (or)

[company name] (no) [section/location] (no) [last name] to moosimasu ga... QT be called-ipf but

‘(This) is [last name] of [section/location] of [company] but....’

As illustrated in the two patterns in (5-7), callers will typically identify themselves using either a form of the copula plus a conjunctive particle (e.g., desu keredomo...) or the verbal moosu (‘to be called’), preceded by the quotative particle to and followed by a conjunctive particle (e.g., to moosimasu ga...). Callers usually employ the latter form when they are unfamiliar with the call recipient or are calling for the first time, so that the utterance functions not only as a self-identification but as a self-introduction as well.-"*

The caller’s selection of the /-to moosimasu! form therefore represents a contextualization cue for the call recipient as to the degree of familiarity in their relationship; this helps the

-“'An example of this type of self-identification by the caller appears in example (5-1) above, as well as in the conversations appearing in Appendix G and Appendix H. In the latter conversation, the plain (as opposed to humble polite) form iiniasu is adopted.

223 call recipient to respond in a style appropriate to that relationship. After either pattern, callers may add a conjunctive particle (e.g. ga, keredomo), which provides a pause for

the call recipient to respond.

When making these self-identifications, callers and call recipients alike may drop the connective no between the indications of company-section-last name. The resulting string of information sounds much like a name (as in example 5-5, line 2C above).

5.4.1.2 Step 2: Salutations

5.4.1.2.1 Salutations acknowledging a need for service and confirming the ongoing business relationship between two organizations

In calls with outside organizations, following self-identification, either the caller or the call recipient may initiate an exchange of salutations.^ Generally speaking, the caller will use the phraseOsewa ni narimasu,-^ while the call recipient will use variants of the phrase, (Itumo) osewa ni natt(e)-(ori)masu,-'^ as illustrated in lines 3 and 4 of (5-

8) below. The distinction made through the form of verb is an important one, for it indexes the imminent role relationship between caller and call recipient. By using the imperfective form of the verbal narimasu ‘become,’ the caller simultaneously acknowledges that s/he has a need for some form of assistance or perhaps information, and also expresses gratitude in advance for that help, saying ‘(I) will become obliged (to

^Often both parties will almost simultaneously initiate these salutations, usually in the juncture immediately following the caller’s self-identification. This timing is indicated through the placement of double slashes (“//”) in the transcript. -^Sometimes osewasama (desu) is used instead. -^Jorden with Noda (1988:277) note that the combination [verb stem]-re imasu or -te Iru "very literally” means “[I] continue to be in a state that results from [verb-ing] that already started;” in other words, the sequence "describes a realized condition with continuing effect” (1988: 309). They characterize the types of activities that may be expressed in -te imasu form as being "processes involving repeated, continuing activity" (1988:278). Possible variations in the form of this salutation include use of the plain (i)masu instead of the humble polite (ori)niasu, and deletion of the phrase itumo, which conveys the sense that “the condition is always being realized” (Jorden with Noda 1998:309).

224 you) for your assistance.’ In contrast, by using a salutation in the I-te {i)nil form, the call recipient acknowledges and expresses gratitude for the ongoing relationship between their two companies, saying ‘Thank you for your continued assistance/patronage. ’ The exchange of salutations therefore acts as a contextualization cue which establishes the present role relationship between caller and call recipient as one of service recipient and service provider.

(5-8) Salutation acknowledging need for assistance made by external caller, and salutation confirming an ongoing business relationship made by call recipient-^

1 A: Hai, Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu. ACK Kansai Imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: Kantoo-ginkoo no Kawabe de gozaimasu:. Kanto bank CN Mr. Kawabe CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is (Mr.) Kawabe of Kanto Bank.’

3 A; Itumo osewa ni natte// orimasu:. always assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (i)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa ni narimasu: assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

-®The exact translation for osewa in the phrase Osewa ni natte- (ori)masu will depend upon the nature of the relationship between the two companies or organizations. In (5-8), the caller represents one of the banks whose services Kansai Imports depends upon regularly. In this case, the call recipient would most likely be acknowledging that bank’s ‘assistance,’ rather than ‘patronage.’ On the other hand, in example (5-9), the caller is a customer of the Tokyo Bookstore; therefore the call recipient is probably acknowledging the caller’s continued ‘patronage.’ -®The entire text of this conversation appears in Appendix C.

225 There are exceptions to this general pattern, however. For example, there appears to be a recent trend toward nearly formulaic usage of the phrase, Osewa ni natt(e)-

(ori)masu, even if participants are in contact for the first time.^o Yet in the case of calls such as those we are considering which concern service-related problems, it is not likely to be the first time that the caller has contacted the company which the call recipient represents. Therefore an acknowledgment of the ongoing relationship between the two organizations is indeed appropriate, whether or not the two speakers of the moment are acquainted with each other. Consider the following example, taken from the Kanto data corpus, in which the caller, Mr. Kawano, uses the form Osewa ni natte-orimasu for his salutation;

(5-9) Salutations confirming ongoing business relationship, made by caller and call recipient

1 A: Mosi mosi, odenwa kawarimasita. hello phone change-pf

‘Hello.’ [‘(I)’ve made a replacement on the telephone.’

2 C: Mosi mosi. Saitama-ken no Kokiisai Kensyuu hello Saitama prefecture CN International Study

Sentaa no Kawano to moosimasii// Center CN Kawano QT be called-ipf (i)

‘Hello. (This is) (the) International Study Center of Saitama Prefecture.’

3 A: Osewa ni naît’- orimasu. assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (•i)

[‘Thank you for your continued patronage.’]

am grateful to Professor Nlshihara Suzuko of the Kyoto Japanese Language School for bringing this to my attention. This type of usage indeed occurred repeatedly in the data. 3'See the discussion regarding the phrase odenwa kawarimasita in section 5.4.1.3 below.

226 4 C: Osewa ni natte- orimasu. assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (i)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

5 C: E:to mata kotosi mo desu ne: HES again this year also CP-ipf ATF

‘Um, again this year also, you see,’

6 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

7 C: ano: Supeingo kyoozai no hoo HES Spanish language teaching materials CN alternative

hatyuu sitai to omou n desu ga, place order-ipf-des QT think EP but

‘um, it’s that (I) think (we)’d like to place an order for Spanish language teaching materials, but....’

Since Mr. Kawano indicates in lines 5C and 7C that his organization is once again interested in ordering some Spanish language teaching materials, we can be sure that he or some other representative has contacted Tokyo Bookstore regarding orders on some previous occasion. Mr. Kawano’s salutation in line 4C is therefore appropriate, confirming as it does the existing, ongoing relationship between the two organizations. It is of course possible that Mr. Kawano could instead have said Osewa ni narimasu in order to emphasize the fact that he would be requesting the call recipient’s assistance in this call. However, underscoring the ongoing relationship through the use of the phrase

Osewa ni natte-orimasu has its advantages: it establishes Mr. Kawano and/or his organization as a regular customer of the bookstore. It is perhaps for this reason that callers in such situations adopt the !-te (i)ruJ form of the salutation.

227 This practice is similar to the use of the phraseX ga (itumo) osewa ni natte- orimasu (‘X is (always) obliged to you for your help’) in personal introductions, where

X is a family member of the speaker. For example, a mother, upon meeting her daughter’s teacher for the first time, might say Musume ga itumo osewa ni natte- orimasu ( ‘My daughter is always obliged to you for your help.’). Although the mother and the teacher are meeting for the first time, the mother’s utterance acknowledges the ongoing relationship between her daughter and the teacher, as well as the larger relationship between her family and the daughter’s school.

Another shift in usage which was observed in the data is the fact that numerous call recipients use the imperfective osewa ni narimasu, rather than the more usualosewa ni natt(e)-(ori)masu, as a salutation (one example of this is (5-12), discussed below in section 5.4.1.4). While it is conceivable, as already noted, that either the caller or the call recipient might use osewa ni natt(e)-(ori)masu to refer to an ongoing relationship, it would be odd for someone other than the caller to use the phrase osewa ni narimasu in order to indicate a need for assistance or information at the outset of the call. Instances of this latter usage may have arisen because speakers are either not conscious of or are blurring the traditional distinction in usage between the two phrases.

One final exception to the description of the exchange of salutations presented above is the fact that they are not always reciprocal. As example (5-5) (repeated below) demonstrates, a salutation may in some cases function to acknowledge the other party’s self-identification, in lieu of simply responding with ‘Hai. '

228 (5-5) Non-reciprocal use of salutation by call recipient^-

1 A: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. Kansai Yiinyuu de gozaimasu:. early (+) Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Good morning. Kansai Imports.’

2 C: A, Nomura Syookai Nakagawa desu kedomo. oh Nomura company Nakagawa CP-ipf but

‘Oh, (this) is Nakagawa (of) (the) Nomura Company, but....”

3 A: A, osewa// ni natte ‘masuJ^ oh assistance LC becoming be-ipf

[‘Oh, thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. early (+)

‘Good morning.’

5 A: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. early (+)

‘Good morning.’

Of all of the register features listed in Figure 5.2, these salutations are perhaps the most indicative of the fact that the call is business-related. Such salutations would be out of place in a Japanese personal telephone call, and as the square brackets in the translations for (5-5), (5-8) and (5-9) suggest, such salutations would probably not appear in comparable situations in English, either.

32Another example of non-reciprocal use o f salutations, this time by the caller, appears in the conversation in Appendix F. 33This is a contracted form of imasu, which is the distal, imperfective form of the verbal iru, 'be, exist.

229 5.4.1.2.2 Salutations for in-house calls

In the case of in-house calls, the appropriate salutation is often otiikaresama desu

(literally, ‘You must be tired.’).^ Callers may express this reciprocally, as shown below:

(5-10) Salutation, in-house caller

1 A: Hai, Yamada desu. ACK Yamada CP-ipf

‘(This) is Yamada.’

2 C: Omise desu.// store CP-ipf

‘(This) is (the) (book)store.’

3 A: Otukaresama desu.// tired CP-ipf

[‘You (must) be tired.’]

4 C: Otukaresama desu. tired CP-ipf

[‘You (must) be tired.’]

The English equivalent ‘You must be tired’ sounds awkward in this context; indeed, this would seem to be another register feature in JBTC that does not have an English counterpart. The Japanese phrase, however, is commonly used in the workplace as a ritual greeting to acknowledge the efforts of fellow employees.^^ As Jorden with Noda

( 1988:125) have noted, “in a society of hard work, once described as ‘a nation of

^'*1 am using the term “in-house” here to refer not only to calls under one roof, but more generally speaking, between participants who are part o f the same in-group, oruti. For example, when a member of a particular companyi=uti) who is away from the office on business calls in to get his/her messages or to indicate when s/he might return to the office, the call recipient at the company may useotukaresama desu as a salutation during the opening section of the call. SSfn example (5-10), the two participants are colleagues of approximately equal status. However, the same call recipient (Yamada) also used the same salutation to her superiors in other tape-recorded in-house conversations from the Kanto corpus.

230 workaholics,’ being tired is often regarded as one proof of serious endeavor.” The phrase

therefore has a positive connotation. The perfective equivalent, otukaresama desita, is

an expression typically used upon the completion of a task (rather than as a salutation),

and is usually reserved for one’s superiors or out-group members.^®

A review of these forms of salutation reveals yet another indexing of the iiti/soto

distinction. That is, while speakers use the ritual phrasesosewa ni narimasu and (itumo)

osewa ni natte-(ori)masu when interacting with individuals on the outside (soto), they

employ otukaresama desu with individuals who are members of their own organization

(uti).

5.4.1.3 Step 3: Request by the caller to speak to another person

(optional)

If necessary, the caller may ask to speak with a different company employee. If

the requested person is in, the call recipient will transfer the caller, as illustrated below.

(5-11) Request to speak with a different person; transfer of calP^

1 A: Hai, Kansai Yunyiiu de gozaimasu. ACK Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: Kantoo-ginkoo no Kawabe de gozaimasu::. Kanto bank CN Kawabe CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is Kawabe of Kanto Bank.’

contrast, a similar phrase, gokuroosama (desita), ‘thanks for your trouble(s)' is typically used “to thank a subordinate for effort expended in behalf of the speaker, or to comment politely to equals or superiors on their toils, performed for themselves or for others” (Jorden with Noda 1988:125). In educational contexts, students are expected to thank their teachers for a lesson using the more deferent otukaresama desita (or, alternatively and more preferably,arigatoo gozaimasita, thank you (for what you have done)’), rather thangokuroosama desita. ^^The entire text of this conversation appears in Appendix C. A portion also appeared in (5-8) above.

231 3 A: Itumo osewa ni natte orimasu::. always assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (i)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa ni narimasu:. assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

5 C; Saitoo-san irassyaimasu desyoo ka. Ms. Sato be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Is Ms. Saito (there)?’

6 A; Hai, omati kudasai. ACK waiting (T) give to in-group-ipf (T)

‘Yes, please wait (a moment).’

7 C: Hai, sumimasen. ACK thank you

‘Thank you.’

[C is put on hold]

After picking up the receiver, the new call recipient will usually identify him/herself by last name, since the company information is now redundant. The call recipient may also precede or follow this self-identification with the phrase (Odenwa o) kawarimasita ga..., ‘(I)’ve made a replacement (on the telephone),’ to indicate that the call has been transferred.^* In response, the caller may reintroduce him/herself, at which point there may then be a recursion to the greeting and salutation steps described earlier.

^*The phrase particle o of Odenwa o is usually dropped. An alternative phrase,X to kawarimasita, may be used to indicate that '(I)'ve changed with (person) X.’ As illustrated in example (5-12), often the only portion uttered in either case is 'kawarimasita (ga).... ’ Another possible utterance at this juncture is Omatase itasimasita, ‘I’ve kept you waiting.’ Note that since the new call recipient is the person who was requested by the caller, technically the self-identifying information is redundant as well; in fact, this information was omitted in some conversations.

232 s.4.1.4 Sample opening exchange

Example (5-12) below illustrates a complete opening exchange from the Kansai corpus that includes a request for and transfer to a different person.^^ The initial call

recipient (Ai) is a female operations staff member, age 23, of Kansai Yunyuu, an

international importing company; the caller is a male shipping clerk from Kobe Unyu, approximately age 25, who is in regular contact with A’s company. The caller requests to speak with a different female operations staff member named Yamamoto (A 2, age 30), who had called him earlier. She appears in line 7; upon realizing who is calling, she expresses thanks for his call, and he responds with a greeting.

(5-12) Request for different person—>transfer of call—>self-identification, greetings

1 A): Hai, Kansai Yunyuu desu:. SELF-ID (Ai) ACK Kansai imports CP-ipf

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: A, Kobe Unyu desu ga. SELF-ID (C) oh Kobe shipping CP-ipf but

‘Oh, (this) is Kobe Shipping, but....’

3Ai: Osewa ni// narimasu:. SALUTATION assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa n ’ narimasu:-*^ SALUTATION assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

^^For reference, the various steps in the exchange are labeled. ‘*®The caller contracted the more complete osewa ni narimasu to the form transcribed here.

233 5 C: Yamamoto-san oraremasic*' ka? REQ FOR Ai Ms. Yamamoto be-ipf (T) Q

is Ms. Yamamoto (there)?’

6 Ai: Omati kudasai:. GRANTING waiting (T) give to in-group-ipf (T)

‘Yes, please wait (a moment).’

[C is put on hold]

7 Aj: Hai, kawarimasita, Yamamoto desu:. SELF-ID (A%) ACK change-pf Yamamoto CP-ipf

‘(This) is Yamamoto.’

8 C: A, Kobe Unyu desu ga:.// SELF-ED (C) oh Kobe shipping CP-ipf but

‘Oh, (this) is Kobe Shipping, but....’

9Ai: A doo mo, sumimasen, odenwa// THANKS oh many ways thank you telephone call

itadakimasite. receive from out-group-ger (\L)

‘Oh, thank you very much for your telephone call.'

IOC: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. PERSONAL early (+) GREETINGS

‘Good morning.’

Note that despite the fact that Ms. Yamamoto identified herself upon answering the phone, the representative from Kobe Shipping does not provide more than his company affiliation.

‘*'This is a common honorific form used in the Kansai region.

234 5.4.1.5 Indicating that someone is not available

In cases in which the requested person is not available, the call recipient will usually indicate this by using of one of the expressions listed in (5-13) below.-*- Except for (a), gaisyutu site orimasu, all of these are used exclusively in business contexts, and therefore represent another identifying register feature of business telephone conversations.

(5-13) Expressions used to indicate that an employee is not available

(a) gaisyutu site orimasu out do-ger be-ipf (i)

‘(s/he) is out (of the office)’

(b) seki hazusite -ru n desu keredomo... seat leave-ger be-ipf EP but

‘(s/he) has left (his/her) seat’

‘it’s just that (she)’s busy meeting customers, but...’

(d) hoka no denwa de hanasi -tyuu another CN telephone INST speaking in the middle of

na n desu:. CP-ipf EP

‘it’s that (s/he) is talking on another telephone (line)’

(e) mada syussya site ‘nai n desu keredomo not yet go/come to office do-ger be-neg EP but

‘it’s that (s/he) has not yet arrived at (the) office, but....’

‘*^These are all taken from the Kansai and Kanto corpora.

235 (f) oyasumi o itadaite- 'masu vacation OBJ receive-ger (i) be-ipf

‘[s/he]’s on vacation

As indicated in examples (b), (c), (d) and (e), many of these expressions may co-occur with the EP construction and/or a conjunctive particle such as ga or ke(re)do(mo). We can understand why this is so by considering the discourse context more closely. First, we know that each of the utterances in (5-13) typically follows a request by a caller to speak with someone. Thus the situational context of the moment is that the caller is wondering whether or not that person is available. After this request, the call recipient may put the caller on hold in order to locate the requested person, or s/he may already know that the person is unavailable. When the call recipient returns to the line (or never leaves the line, as the case may be), this sends a signal to the caller that the requested person is not available. We note, however, that the call recipient does not state this information explicitly. Rather, she recharacterizes the situation by providing the reason for that person’s unavailability. By juxtaposing this new information against the larger situational frame which includes all of the details we have just described, the speaker essentially draws the listener’s attention to the connection between the two and suggests that the listener should be able to interpret, or access, this newly reframed situation. The role of n(o) in such utterances, as Noda (1990:24) has pointed out, is to encode the existence of the larger frame and demand interpretation of the (new) characterization within it.

Noda (1990:27) provides two useful analogies for the double-framing function of the EP, noting that it is similar to the opening of a window on a computer screen or the enlargement of a sub-section of a map. In both situations, the newly opened or enlarged section remains juxtaposed against a larger one, be it the windows which were opened

236 previously on the computer desktop, or the larger area on the map in which the blown-up portion is located. What the two analogies have in common is the fact that a new perspective on a situation has been afforded by the double framing effect.

Returning to the phrases in (5-13), we also note that many end in a conjunctive particle such as ga or ke(re)do(mo). By including a conjunctive particle, the recipient of the call can leave her utterance open-ended and may also provide a pause for the caller to respond.

5.4.1.6 Offers by the caller to call back

At this juncture, the caller may offer to call back later, as illustrated in line 9 of example (5-14) below. The recipient of this call is Ms. Sasaki, a 25 year old female operations staff member at Kansai Imports, and the caller is Mr. Imamura of the Rokko branch of Kobe Bank, which handles some of Kansai Imports’ banking needs.

(5-14) Caller offers to call back; A = Ms. Sasaki; C = Mr. Imamura

1 A: Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu:. Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: E: Kobe-ginkoo no Rokkoo-siten no Imamura desu GA: HES Kobe bank CN Rokko branch CN Imamura CP-ipf but

‘Um, (this) is Imamura of Kobe Bank’s Rokko branch, but....’

3 A: A, hai, osewa ni narimasu:. oh ACK assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa ni natte 'masu: assistance GL becoming be-ipf

[‘Thank you for your continued patronage.’]

237 5 C: E:to: Hiiziwara- butyoo irassyaimasu desyoo ka. HES Fujiwara department chief be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Um, is department chief Fujiwara (there)?’

6 A: Sumimasen, ima tyotto sekkyaku -tyuu be sorry now a little meeting customers in the middle of

na n desu ga: CP-ipf EP but

‘(I)’m sorry, It’s just that (she)’s busy meeting customers now, but....’

7 C: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

8 A: Hai. ACK

‘Y e s’

9 C: A, soo simasitara, mata ano notihodo kakesasite oh so do-ipf-cnd again HES later call-ger-cau

moraimasu n de.-^^ get from out-group-ipf EP-ger

Oh, in that case, (I)’ll, um, take the liberty of calling again later.’

10 A: A, hai, sumimasen.//Yorosiku onegai simasii. oh ACK thank you well request-lpf (i)

Oh, thank you. Please [do so].’

11 C: Hai, sumimasen. ACK thank you

‘Thank you.’

“^^This is the same utterance which we considered earlier in Chapter I ; it is being represented here in context.

238 Mr. Imamura indicates that he will call back through what appears to be a statement of

intention; soo simasitara, mata ano notihodo kakesasite moraimasu n de. However,

the fact that Ms. Sasaki responds by saying A, hai, sumimasen suggests that she is

interpreting his statement as an offer or a promise, and is indicating her gratitude in

return. Let us consider Mr. Imamura's utterance in more detail.

The use of the gerund form of the extended predicate, n de, is extremely common

in this context in Japanese business transactional telephone calls. As has been argued

throughout the thesis, the contracted form n of the nominal no functions to nominalize the

information that precedes it, connect it to the larger discourse frame, and point or refer to

that connection as a something that is shared or sharable.

In order to ascertain precisely what the larger discourse frame is for Mr.

Imamura’s utterance, we must back up a few lines in the conversation to Mr. Imamura’s

request to speak with Ms. Fujiwara in 5C and Ms. Sasaki’s subsequent utterance in 6A,

which is also marked no. By using the EP when she states that Fujiwara is busy meeting

customers, Ms. Sasaki is drawing a connection for her listener between this newly

reported fact and the present situation, i.e. that Fujiwara has not come to the phone (and

Sasaki has returned to the line instead). But the question as to what Mr. Imamura will do

about this is left open for discussion. At first, Mr. Imamura merely takes in the

information, responding A soo desu ka. In response in line 8 A, Ms. Sasaki could conceivably have offered to have Ms. Fujiwara return Mr. Imamura’s call, but she does not, so once again Mr. Imamura is left with the option of what to do. He is under no obligation to call back, of course, since he was the one to initiate the call in the first place.

But given the fact that Ms. Sasaki has not yet taken the initiative to offer a return call, it seems likely that Mr. Imamura will have to make a decision—which he does in line 9C.

Using the gerund form of the extended predicate, he states that he will take the liberty of

239 calling back again later. He presents this new information to Ms. Sasaki against the larger ground of the preceding conversation, which now includes the fact that Fujiwara cannot come to the phone. Announced in this fashion, his offer to call back provides reassurance to Ms. Sasaki that the situation has been resolved.

5.4.1.7 Offers by the call recipient to (have someone) call hack

In many cases, the call recipient, after indicating that the requested person is not available, will offer to have that person call back. Frequently, this is expressed through the use of a humble polite verbal in the consultative form, as illustrated in (5-15) below.

By using the humble polite, a speaker implies that someone in the call recipient’s in group— not necessarily the call recipient herself—will return the call. While this is likely to be the requested person, it is important to note that this is not explicitly specified (as might be the case, for example, in English).

In this example, which is a continuation of conversation (5-11) above,-*^ Mr.

Kawabe of Kanto Bank has asked to speak with Ms. Saito of Kansai Imports. The call recipient puts him on hold, but then returns to the line:

(5-15) Call recipient offers a return call

[C has been put on hold while A goes to check if the requested person is in]

8 A: Mosi mosi:. hello

‘Hello.’

9 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

‘‘^As mentioned earlier, the complete text for this conversation appears in Appendix C.

240 10 A: A, /hhh/ moosiwake nai n desu keredoMO: oh excuse have-neg EP-ipf but

‘Oh, (I)’m sorry, but it’s that’

11 C: Ee. BC

‘M-hm.’

12 A: tadaima hoka no denwa de hanasi -tyuu just now another CN telephone LC speaking in the middle of

na// n desu:. CP-ipf EP

‘it’s that just now (she)’s talking on another line.’

13 C: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

14 A; Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

15 C: E:// BC

‘M-hm.’

16 A: Ano:, owari -sidai odenwa sasiagemasyoo ka? HES finishing upon telephone give to out-group-cns (i) Q

‘Um, shall (we) give you a call back as soon as (she) has finished?’

17 C: Ee, mosi yorosikereba.. Yes if good-prv

‘Yes, if (that) would be all right (with you).’

It is also interesting to note here that due to the use of the humble polite verbal sasiageru,

‘give to out-group,’ it is technically not necessary for the speaker to use a causative form

241 of the verb in order to indicate the sense of, “I’ll have (him/her) call (you) back.’ Rather, since the humble polite form already indexes the speaker’s immediate uti, which in this case includes the person being requested, the response as it appears is perfectly appropriate. There are cases, of course, in which speakers do employ the causative form, but such an explicit rendering of the situation is really unnecessary. This was borne out by the relatively infrequent appearance of forms such as orikaesi sasemasyoo ka? in these contexts in the data.-*^

5.4.2 Transition to the discussion of business (maeoki)

Once the caller has reached the person with whom s/he wishes to speak, s/he will initiate a transition to the discussion of the business transaction. In the data, the most common way in which speakers signaled the beginning of such a transition was with an attention-focusing phrase such as Ano desu ne! or E:to desu ne!, or at least a hesitation marker such as E:to ox Ano :Speakers would then follow this attention focuser with a statement identifying the general reason for the call, according to one of the following patterns:

(5-16) Patterns used to describe the general reason for a call

(a) /verbal + -tai n desu ga/ ‘It’s that [I’d] like to [verbal], but... ’

(b) /nominal + nan desu ga/ ‘It’s that [nominal], but...’

Another likely reason for the infrequent use o f the causative is that there could be a hierarchical relationship between the person offering a call back (in the case of 5-14, speaker A), and the person being requested which precludes the use of this form. In other words, it would be inappropriate for a subordinate to use the causative form in reference to a superior. "*^1 use the term “attention focuser” (ATF) rather than “attention getter” because technically the speaker already has the listener’s attention: the point o f her utterance is to focus the listener’s attention more narrowly on what she is about to say.

242 We have noted numerous times now that the extended predicate In desu/ (EP)

relates the speaker’s the information which precedes the EP to the present situation in that

utterance. The reason that its interpretation varies from one situation to another is because

the details of those situations differ. In other words, when the EP “encodes the existence

of [the] background frame and demands interpretation of the [newly double framed]

characterization within it” (Noda 1990:24), the shifts in the background frame from one

moment to another in a conversation mean that the resulting interpretation will necessarily shift as well. Thus at the juncture we are now considering, namely a transition from the opening of the conversation to the point of business, the speaker’s ‘present situation’ is that of explaining the reason for the call. Although the information marked by n(o) in that explanation may be new to the listener, the EP functions to mark it as information that is non-problematic. Moreover, the connection between that information and the discourse context may now be considered to be shared between two participants. In this way, the

EP serves to broaden the ‘common ground’ between them.'*’ Consider the following example, taken from the conversation which appears in Appendix E. The excerpt illustrates pattern (a) of (5-16):

(5-17) Attention focuser followed by the general reason for call, pattern (a)

1 C: Ano desu ne:! ATF

[‘Well, you see,’]

2 A: Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

'^’Charles Quinn has pointed out (personal communication) that this manner of presentation of new information as though it was already given information, through the use of the extended predicate, functions in the discourse as the introduction of an ‘instant fact.’

243 3 C: tyotto osirabe itadakitai n desu ga, a little looking into ( i) receive from out-group-des (4.) EP but

‘it’s just that (I)’d like to have (you) look into (something) for me, but...’

4 A; Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

Other examples of this type of explanation which were observed in the data were as follows:

(5-18) Other ways of indicating the general reason for a call, pattern (a)

(1) tyotto oukagai sitai n desu keredomo... a little inquiring (4-) do-des EP but

‘It’s that (I)’d just like to inquire (about something), but...’

(2) e:to, ikken takuhai de kakiinin um one item delivery CP-ger confirmation

onegai sitai n desu keredomo requesting(i) do-des EP but

‘It’s that (I)’d like to request confirmation of (a) delivery item, but...’

Parallel examples in English, such as “The reason I’m calling is....’’ may help to clarify the function of no in this context. The fact that the speaker is calling is already known and available to both participants; this represents the “present situation” to which I have been referring. What is not known is the reason for the call. Once this has been presented in the discourse, however, this information becomes part of the public domain, so to speak, such that henceforth it may be referred to for other purposes, if necessary.

Sometimes the information presented by the caller may in fact already be shared because the two participants have discussed the matter in a previous conversation. In such

244 cases, the caller, anticipating that the recipient will be able to recall that information, is reframing it as a topic for ‘today’s’ conversation.^** An example of such usage is the following:

(5-19) Konoaida no ken na ndesii ga.... other day CN matter CP-ipf EP but

‘(It)’s about the matter (we spoke about) the other day, but...’

Noda (1981:22-24) summarizes these two types of uses of the extended predicate which we have discussed as follows:"*^

The use of the noun NO in the utterance simply signals that there is a situation X or an entity Y which the speaker (S) assumes the other participants of the conversation to be aware of. Such awareness may come from a direct observation on the part of the addressees (A), or from an indirect indication given to them by S... S’s assumption may arise from A’s report of the situation X....If situation X has been reported by A, then it is shared knowledge among all the participants in the conversation, and S can safely assume that everybody else is aware of the situation. Such an awareness may also come from a report from S [e.g., in a prior conversation]. Just as it was true in the case of A’s reporting the fact to others, S can report the existence of situation X and follow it by the EP- utterance. In that case, S assumes that her/his report has been comprehended and thus the existence of situation X has become part of the repertoire of shared knowledge among the participants of the conversation.

Let us now consider a transition section which illustrates the second of the two patterns for explaining the reason for a call. Example (5-20) is a conversation between a

‘**See Noda (1990:16ff) on the ‘double-framing’ function of no that can recharacterize prior discourse. Specifically, she proposes that “the deictic nounno in the extended predicate systematically encodes another frame that is already established or that can be established readily in the context of conversation, and points to a specific segment within that frame. The description which modifies no renders a new frame for the identified segment within a larger frame by giving that frame a characterization. I will call this function of the extended predicate ‘double-framing,’ adopting the terminology of Bateson. From the artificial intelligence point of view, the double-framing function o f the extended predicate may be considered a linguistic mechanism which triggers a retrieval of another data base to help interpret the ongoing discourse” (Noda 1990:19-20). In this case, that “data base” would be the call recipient’s set of recollections o f prior conversations with the caller. ‘*^See Noda (1981:22-24) for a detailed description of this function of the extended predicate.

245 25-year old female operations staff member of Kansai Imports (A%), and a 25-year old male shipping clerk of Kobe Shipping, who has frequent business contact with Kansai

Imports .50

(5-20) Transition section example, pattern (a)

7 A]: Hai, kawarimasita, Yamamoto desu:. ACK change-pf Yamamoto CP-ipf

‘(This) is Yamamoto.’

8 C: A, Kobe Unyu desu ga:.// oh Kobe transport CP-ipf but

‘Oh, (this) is Kobe Shipping, but....’

9 A%: A doo mo, sumimasen, odenwa// oh many ways thank you telephone call

itadakimasite. receive from out-group-ger

‘Oh, thank you very much for your telephone call.’

10 C: Ohayoo gozaimasu:. early (+)

‘Good morning.’

11 A?: Hai, ano: desu ne:!// ACK ATF

‘Yes, um, you see...’

5°Note that in this conversation, it is the call recipient (Yamamoto) who initiates the transition, because C is returning a call which Yamamoto placed to him previously. In other words, Yamamoto is the service recipient who has encountered a problem, and the clerk from Kobe Shipping is the service provider.

246 12 C: Hai. BC

‘M-hm.’

13 A]: E:to:: (0.3) a, mae iutte^^ ‘ta, reezooko— reetooko HES oh before say-ger be-pf refrigerators-FS freezers

no koto na n desu kedoMO: CN matter CP-ipf EP but

‘Um, oh, (as I) was saying before, it’s that (it)’s the matter of the refrigerators-freezers, but....’

14 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

In line 11, after acknowledging C’s greetings with ‘Hai,' Ms. Yamamoto begins the transition by engaging C’s attention with the phrase, ‘ano desu ne:! '. She then hesitates with ‘£.70 ’ and a pause of 0.3 seconds before proceeding to explain in lines 13 and 14 that it is the matter concerning the freezers, which she had spoken of previously, that she will be addressing. Her utterance thus serves as both a transition out of the opening section and a preparation for the main business of the call. C acknowledges the preparatory information with his utterance ‘Hai’ in line 14; his utterance also serves as a

‘go-ahead’ for Ms. Yamamoto to continue her explanation.

These sorts of preparatory utterances are called maeoki hyoogen (preliminary announcements) in Japanese.^- In a contrastive study of requesting behavior among native speakers of Japanese and Japanese learners, Kashiwazaki (1993) found that native speakers routinely employed maeoki when initiating request sequences. Moreover, they paused frequently and tended to avoid making explicit requests, preferring instead to hint

lutte is a variant of itte, the gerund form of the verb iu, ‘say.’ ^-These differ from the “pre-announcements” analyzed by Terasaki (1976) and others in which a speaker says, for example, “Guess what?” prior to relating a story, a troubles telling, or the like.

247 at the content and imposition of the request using sentence fragments. In contrast, the

Japanese learners used maeoki infrequently or incorrectly, and tended to express their requests directly and in full sentences.

A particularly notable feature of the native speakers’ request behavior was that in leaving their sentences unfinished, they anticipated that their addressees would perceive their intentions {kikite ni yooken naiyoo a sassite morau). For relatively complex requests, speakers would hint at the subject and rely on their listeners to complete the remainder of the utterance, whereupon the speaker would then go on to specify other details over a series of turns.

Kashiwazaki concludes that these strategies, which she refers to ashanasikake koodoo, are essential to successful phatic communion between speaker and listener in such situations in Japanese.^^ She states that it is always considered appropriate, in

^^Loosely translated,hanasikake koodoo means ‘behavior when beginning to speak.’ Mizutani (1980) discussed the same type of behavior when she tentatively identified three different types of elements in Japanese conversational discourse: ( 1 )hanasi no bazukuri no yooin ‘situation/frame-creating elements of the conversation,’ (2) wadaizukuri no yooin ‘topic-creating elements,’ and (3) naiyoo ‘content.’ Mizutani illustrated these elements with the following conversation (as presented in Kashiwazaki ( 1993:54):

A: Anoo, Frame-creating element ‘um’

B: £. (back-channel)

A: Sumimasen ga. Topic-creating element ‘Excuse me, but’

B: Hai. (acknowledgment)

A: Yotuya-eki e wa doo ikeba ii n desyoo. Content

Jorden with Noda (1987:137) have also called attention to the importance of this sort of behavior, noting that before asking a stranger for directions, for example, an introductory inquiry such astyotto ukagaimasu ga... ‘May I ask you a question?’ is considered appropriate.Tyotto in the utterance functions to mitigate the imposing nature of what will be asked o f the listener. Moreover, the use o f iikagau, a humble polite verbal, makes the speaker’s request deferential.

248 developing a conversation, to assume a considerate attitude regarding one’s

(psychological) responsibility to the addressee {aite e no hutan ni taezu hairyo sum sinteki taido), and that the inclusion of maeoki contributes to harmonious interactions.

Recalling the argument presented in Chapter 4 of this investigation regarding the sociocultural underpinnings of Japanese conversation, we can conclude that this requesting behavior reflects the Japanese preference for enryo-sassi, or listener- dependent strategies.

As we have just seen in example (5-20), the same type of behavior was observed in the corpora of business transactional telephone calls collected for this study.

Particularly during the transitional stage of these calls, service recipients usually restricted their utterances to attention focusers and general indications of the business they needed to discuss. This tendency was especially strong in conversations between service providers and service recipients who were in regular contact with each other, as in the conversation in Appendix D. Not a single caller in such situations expressed the explicit desire or need to have a problem corrected (such as T’d like to have a copy of my bank statement mailed to me’ or T’d like to speak with the manager about a problem I’ve encountered’). Cases in which a caller mentioned the problem early in the conversation tended to be those in which the service provider and service recipient were not well acquainted (see for example the conversation in Appendix G). There thus appears to be a correlation between the degree of familiarity between speakers (within their roles as service provider and service recipient, rather than socially) and the degree to which problems were mentioned during the transitional phase of the conversation. We will explore this matter in more detail in the next chapter.

249 5.4.3 Conversational exchange related to business matters

After indicating a shift from the opening of the call through the use of maeoki, the caller will move into the main point(s) of business. To illustrate how a main point can be developed in Japanese, we will consider two examples of problem reports in the next chapter.

5.4.4 Pre-closing

In the pre-closing section, participants restate and/or conclude previous agreements made in the conversation. For example, they might restate arrangements that have been made for future services (such as the checking into a problem which was brought to the service provider’s attention). Alternatively, they might promise future contact in the form of telephone calls, a fax, or even a meeting. Information about the dates and times for this future contact is usually confirmed or restated as well. If a service provider has offered to call the service recipient back, but does not have his/her telephone number, the service provider will request the information in this section.

What is most interesting, perhaps, about these pre-closing sections is that aside from the restatement of matters agreed upon in the conversation, no other element is required; in a sense, each element represents an insertion sequence that may occur, depending upon the information needed by the participants in order to carry out their respective roles in the transaction(s) just discussed. Here again, then, we may note the

“fuzzy” nature of speech genres, in which certain elements, due to generic constraints, may be required (such as the exchange of salutations in JBTC), whereas other elements may be left out without any subsequent need for us to reclassify the spoken text as a different genre.

250 Speakers may employ a range of contextualization cues which signal that they might be considering a “shut down” of the conversation. These include the followingr^-*

(5-21 ) Contextualization cues signaling a possible pre-closing

( 1 ) Hai, wakarimasita. ACK become clear-pf

‘Okay, I see/understand.’

(2) De \va, ... (or Zyaa), ... well

‘Well then,...’

(3) Sore de wa, ... that well

‘Well in that c ase,...’

(4) Soo simasitara, ... {or soo sitara) [standard] so do-cnd

‘If that’s the case,

(5) Honnara,... (or honzya) [Kansai] so-cnd

‘If that’s the case.

Example (5-22), which is a continuation of example (5-15) which appeared above, illustrates how a speaker might use one such contextualization cue:

(5-22) Opening up closings

18 A: Hai, wakarimasita. ACK become clear-pf

‘Certainly.’

^‘•See Kumatoridani (1992) for a detailed discussion of these cues in the closing sections of Japanese conversations. Most of the data which Kumatoridani describes are casual interactions among friends.

251 19 C; Hai, siimimasen. ACK thank you

‘Thank you.’

20 A; Hai, owari -sidai sasiagemasu:. ACK finishing upon give to out-group-ipf (i)

‘(We)’ll give you (a call) as soon as (she) has finished.’

Note the repeated use of hai by both speakers, which is somewhat comparable to the use of ‘okay’ by speakers of English in parallel junctures in telephone conversation pre closings. This behavior functions to reinforce the agreement between the two speakers and to indicate mutually that there is no other issue to be discussed.

One final and important observation that should be made in regard to pre-closing sections in Japanese business telephone conversations is that if one participant in a given conversation has offered to do something for the other, the offerer will restate that offer at some point during the closing section, typically using the l...masu no d e /pattern which we have been discussing. This is illustrated in the pre-closing sections of the conversations which appear in Appendix D, E, F, and G. We will also take up this issue in more detail in the context of the first of two examples to be considered in Chapter 6.

5.4.5 Discussion of other issues or transactions (optional step)

In example (5-22), if the call recipient had only said Hai, wakarimasita, but the caller had other business to bring up, another transitional section might have occurred in which the caller would first engage the listener with a hesitation marker and/or an attention focuser, and would then proceed to the maeoki in order to indicate generally what the additional matter was to be discussed. Lines 57-65 in the conversation appearing in

Appendix G nicely illustrate such a recursion to the transition phase. Due to space considerations, however, we will not consider such calls in this investigation.

252 5.4.6 Closing

In the closing section, speakers exchange thanks and/or take their leave of each other. If the call recipient never identified him/herself over the course of the call, the caller may ask for that person’s name, using a conventionalized form, Situree desu kedo..., ‘It is rude (of me to ask), but... (what is your name)?’ The following is an example of one such closing observed in the data; the complete text appears in Appendix H, and will be discussed in more detail in the next chapter.

(5-23) Closing section example

1C: Hai, situree desu kedo: ACK rudeness CP-ipf but

‘It’s rude (of me to ask), but,... (what is your name)?’

2 A; A, Masutaa Denki, Hashimoto desu:. oh Master Electric Hashimoto CP-ipf

‘Oh, (I)’m (Mr.) Hashimoto (of) Master Electric.’

3 C: Hashimoto-san desu ne?//Hai, yorosiku//onegai-simasu:. Mr. Hashimoto CP-ipf SP ACK well request-ipf (\L)

‘Mr. Hashimoto, right? Please [take care of it for me].’

4 A: Hai! Yorosiku onegai-simasu. ACK well request-ipf (i)

‘May (things) go well.’^^

5.5 Conclusions

From opening to closing, we have now considered the stagelike process through which Japanese speakers may engage in a business transactional telephone call. Within

different gloss has been provided here than for the identical utterance in line 3, because while the service recipient is requesting assistance, the service provider is requesting the caller’s understanding in this particular situation. Yorosiku onegai simasu can used to express both of these senses.

253 each section of such a call, we have observed that speakers can and do employ particular stylistic and/or register features which function as contextualization cues. These cues aid in the interpretation of the interaction as it proceeds. A significant degree of optionality is included in the structure of the interaction as a whole, allowing for speaker choice and preference, as well as potential problems (e.g. a requested person’s being unavailable).

Certain aspects of the interaction may be repeated, such as self-introductions, and others, such as personal greetings, left out. One or more speakers may extend offers of assistance, and business matters of various sorts may be brought up for discussion. Yet due to the inherent flexibility of the genre, its integrity is not at risk. The fact that speakers must at least progress through the opening and closing stages gives shape to the interaction and signals that this is one instance, one unique text, exemplifying a genre.

254 CHAPTER 6

PROBLEM REPORTING AND RESOLUTION IN

JAPANESE BUSINESS TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS

6.1 Introduction

In this chapter, I will present and describe two examples from the data corpora

which illustrate some of the ways in which service recipients report problems and service

providers respond to those problems. Each description will be preceded by an explanation

of the nature of the companies and participants involved in the interaction. Although I

would argue that it is not possible to isolate one particular interaction as a prototype for all

of the service encounters of this type that were observed in the data, the first example was

selected as being representative of those encounters, because it includes several of the

features I identified in the previous chapter as being typical of the genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations. The second example demonstrates how speakers who are not in regular contact with each other in the service provider-service recipient role relationship may encounter difficulties in their communication.

6.2 Reporting that a package did not arrive, without actually saying so

6.2.1 Background information

The example to be considered in this section is an interaction between the representatives of two companies that are engaged in a regular business relationship with

255 each other (a complete text of the conversation appears in Appendix D). Kansai Imports is an international company that imports food, books, and general merchandise from the

United States to Japan for primarily non-Japanese customers. Kobe Shipping is one of two companies in the Kansai area that regularly provide delivery services for Kansai

Imports; their business is comparable to that of United Parcel Service (UPS) in the United

States.'

As often happens with deliveries in the United States, customers may not be home when a delivery attempt is made. In such situations, Kobe Shipping typically leaves a delivery notice for the customer, but since their service is not bilingual, the message is written in Japanese. Since many of the Kansai Imports customers cannot read or speak

Japanese well, they often contact Kansai Imports, rather than Kobe Shipping, to report

(or, in many cases, complain) that they did not receive their merchandise. As a result,

Kansai Imports then must act as an intermediary on behalf of the customer in order to arrange for Kobe Shipping to make another delivery. This type of situation transpired quite frequently; according to the staff at Kansai Imports, delivery-related problems occurred at least once a day .2

The member of the operations staff at Kansai Imports who regularly contacts

Kobe Shipping to make such delivery arrangements is Ms. Yamamoto, the caller in the example to be discussed below. At Kobe Shipping, there are three or four representatives in the dispatch section who typically handle these problems; one of these is Mr. Kaneda, who appears in this example.

'In Japan, this service is referred to as eithertakuhaibin or takkyuubin, ‘residential delivery.’ The latter term was originally used exclusively as part of a particular delivery company’s name(Kuroneko Yamato no takkyuubin), but has become a common noun. -This figure also includes arrangements for pick-up of merchandise to be returned.

256 This particular conversation involves a shipment of books that was made on the

16th of November, from the Kansai Imports office to a customer. Prior to this conversation, the customer notified Kansai Imports that the shipment had not yet arrived.

6.2.2 Description of the interaction

This example begins with an opening typical of the sort described in the previous chapter for JBTC, as illustrated in lines 1-12 below:

(6- 1 ) Opening for Example 1 : Kansai Imports (C) and Kobe Shipping (A)

1 A[: Kobe Unyu desu. Kobe shipping CP-ipf

‘Kobe Shipping.’

2 C: Kotira, Kansai Yunyuii no Yamamoto desu.// this Kansai imports CN Yamamoto CP-ipf

‘This (is) (Ms.) Yamamoto of Kansai Imports.’

3Ai: Hai, osewa// ni naît' orimasu:. ACK assistance GL become-ger be-ipf(i)

[‘Thank you for your continued patronage.’]

4 C: Doo mo, osewa ni natte orimasu:. ACK assistance GL become be-ipf (i-)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

5 C: E:to:, hassoo no Kaneda-san, onegai-dekimasu ka? HES dispatch CN Mr. Kaneda request-ipf-pot (i) Q

‘Um, may (I) have (Mr.) Kaneda of (the) dispatch (section)?’

6 Ai: Hai, syoosyoo omati kudasai// ACK a little waiting (T) give to in-group-ipf (Î)

‘Yes, please wait a moment.’

257 7 C: Hai. ACK

‘OK.’

[caller is put on hold for 8 seconds while clerk transfers the call]

8 Ao: A, most most. oh hello

Oh, hello?’

9 C; A, most most?// Kotira, Kansai Yiinyuu no Yamamoto desu:. oh hello this Kansai imports CN Yamamoto CP-ipf

‘Oh, hello? This is (Ms.) Yamamoto of Kansai Imports.’

10 A?: Kawarimasita. change-pf

[‘(I)’ve (ex)changed (with someone else).’]

11 C: Doo mo,// osewa ni narimasu:. ACK assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

12 A%: Osewa ni narimasu:. assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

We may summarize this opening section as follows: upon reaching Kobe Shipping, Ms.

Yamamoto identifies herself and exchanges salutations with the clerk, affirming the ongoing business relationship between the two companies. Ms. Yamamoto then requests to speak with Mr. Kaneda; once her call is transferred, she identifies herself once more.

Mr. Kaneda, nearly simultaneously, indicates that the call has been turned over to him, and the two exchange slightly different salutations, using the imperfective narimasu. This shift in the form of the salutation perhaps reflects a certain recognition on the part of the speakers that each may require the assistance of the other in some way or other. Note that

258 there is no need for Mr. Kaneda to identify himself beyond acknowledging that the call has been transferred, since Ms. Yamamoto had initially requested to speak with him.

Ms. Yamamoto then proceeds to the main business of the conversation, which is to relate the details of the delivery problem. First she provides a maeoki, setting the stage for her explanation:

(6-2) maeoki for Example 1

13 C: E:to desu ne? Kona mae, ana: e:: ohuisu kara okiitta, HES CP-ipf ATP the other day HES HES office from send-pf

14 C: bukku no bun na n desu kedoMO: book(s) CN portion CP-ipf EP but

‘Um, you know, it’s that (I’m calling about) um, (a) book order (we) sent from (the) office the other day, but...’

15 Ai: H a i// BC

‘Mhm.’

Using the attention focuser E:to desu ne?, Ms. Yamamoto creates a break between the opening section and the business portion of the call. She then gives a preliminary indication of the matter she wishes to discuss, setting the current (preliminary) frame with the extended predicate (EP). The use of the extended predicate here functions to establish this information as immediately relevant, because the nominal no, contracted here to n, refers or connects the information immediately preceding the EP (i.e., the books that were sent from the office the other day) to the speaker’s present situation (her making the call).^

The utterance as a whole thus functions as the background for her call—that is, a frame

^This description is based on Ray’s (1989:27) and Noda’s (1990) analyses of the function ono f in the extended predicate.

259 for the upcoming discourse.'* Mr. Kaneda acknowledges her utterance through his

backchannel in line 15.

Ms. Yamamoto then continues with her explanation, this time providing more specific information as to the exact date of the book shipment. Here again she concludes her utterance with the EP, reframing and thereby recharacterizing the information she has presented in the discourse thus far:

(6-3) Reframing of information through the EP

16 C: zyuiiiti-gatii zyuuroku-niti:// November 16th

‘(on) November 16th’

17 Ai: Hai, hai. Yes yes

‘Yes, yes.’

18 C: okutta bun na// ndesu GA: send-pf portion CP-ipf EP but

‘it’s that (I’m talking about the) order sent (on that date)’

Mr. Kaneda confirms this new information about dates—which is critical to the identification of any delivery—with Ms. Yamamoto, as follows:

'^Many studies of the extended predicate have suggested numerous functions, one of which is that of ‘explanation.’ As Ray (1989) and Noda (1990) have demonstrated, however, the function ofno itself in the EP construction is not one o f explanation, but rather one of referring or pointing to something that should be recoverable from context or the immediately preceding discourse. It is the combination of that referring function of no, together with certain contexts and/or elements of prior discourse, that can, in some cases, convey the notion of explanation. If anything it is primarily thecontext which is responsible for the ‘explanation’ interpretation of the extended predicate. As Noda (1990:10) points out, “the diverse results in the use of the extended predicate within different contexts...have led many researchers astray in their attempt to identify its meaning as opposed to the meaning signalled by other items in the context.”

260 (6-4) Confirmation of new information

19 Ai'. Zyuuiti-gatu desu ka? November CP-ipf Q

‘Is it November?’

20 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

21 A: Zyuiiroku, hai! sixteen ACK

‘(the) I6(th), right!’

22 C: Hai. E:: takuhai DE: ACK um residential delivery INST

‘Yes, um, by residential delivery (service).’

23 A: Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

Ms. Yamamoto then volunteers additional information which she anticipates that

Mr. Kaneda will need in order to resolve the problem (which still remains unmentioned); this is the routing slip number.

(6-5) Provision of routing slip number

24 C: e: nanbaa ga iti- ni- san NO: um number SUB one-two-three CN

‘Um, (the) number (is) 123-’

25 A: Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

261 26 C: yon- go- roku NO: four-five-six CN

‘456-’

27 A; Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

28 C: nana- hati- kyiiu- kyuii. seven- eight- nine- nine

‘7899.’

29 A: nana- hati-kyuu-kyuu! seven-eight-nine-nine !

‘7899’

30 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

The fact that Ms. Yamamoto provides this information without being prompted to do so, as well as the fact that she simply saysnanbaa (‘number’), rather than the more technical term denpyoo nanbaa or denpyoo bangoo (‘routing slip number’),^ suggests that in this particular situation further specification is unnecessary. In other words, through prior encounters of a similar nature, the two participants have become sufficiently familiar with this routine or ‘script’ that they need not employ more explicit language.

This familiarity is confirmed with Mr. Kaneda’s response in line 31 below, in which he asks if it (i.e., the shipment which Ms. Yamamoto has identified) has not

^In fact, use of or reference to the term denpyoo is another indication that this conversation represents a business transaction; it is a register feature that regularly occurs within this sub-genre of Japanese business transactional telephone conversations (that is, in problem reporting and problem resolution sequences).

262 arrived. In essence, he has surmised the nature of the (unmentioned) problem, and is asking if that is indeed why Ms. Yamamoto has called.

(6-6) Seeking confirmation of the (unmentioned) problem

31 A: Mityaku desu ka? not yet arrived CP-ipf Q

‘Has (it) not yet arrived?’

32 C: (0.3) E:to mityaku rasii// n desu:. (0.3) HES not yet arrived seems EP

(0.3 second pause) ‘Um, it’s that it seems (it)’s not yet arrived.’

33 A: M ityaku// not yet arrived

‘not yet arrived.’

34 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

35 A; Tyotto matte kudasai// yo. a little wait-ger give to in-group-ipf (T) SP

‘Wait a minute, OK?’

36 C: Hai. Yes.

‘Yes.’

Ms. Yamamoto, no doubt hesitant to place the blame on Kobe Shipping prematurely, says in line 32 that it seems that the package has not arrived. By using the evidential rasii., which indicates information obtained through aural or visual input, together with the extended predicate, Ms. Yamamoto recasts what Mr. Kaneda has suggested in a new light

(i.e., a new frame). In other words, rather than acknowledge that the problem is that the package has not yet arrived, Ms. Yamamoto instead explains that ‘it’s that it seems

263 (perhaps based on information provided through a call from the customer) that the package has not yet arrived.’

The use of the evidential here clearly stems from interactional motivations. Up until this point in the conversation, Ms. Yamamoto has been able to avoid committing what Brown and Levinson (1987) have called a face-threatening act (FTA) by not explicitly mentioning that there was a problem with the shipment. When Mr. Kaneda guesses the nature of the problem, Ms. Yamamoto attempts to mitigate the face threat by using the evidential. Indeed, she may not actually know whether or not the package was delivered; it could be, for example, that Kobe Shipping left the package with a neighbor.

Genuine lack of certainty on Ms. Yamamoto’s part is therefore another possible reason behind her use of rasii in this utterance.

Nevertheless, Mr. Kaneda interrupts in line 33 to confirm that what this situation involves is mityaku, something that ‘hasn’t arrived.’ Ms. Yamamoto acknowledges this minimally in line 34, saying only hai, and Mr. Kaneda puts her on hold, presumably to check on the shipment via his computer.

Returning to the phone about 40 seconds later, Mr. Kaneda reports what he has found, as follows:

(6-7) Results of checking into the problem

37 A: Mosi mosi? hello

‘Hello?’

38 C: A, mosi mosi,// hai! oh hello yes

‘Oh yes, hello!’

264 39 A: Sumimasen. be sorry

‘(I)’m sorry (for the wait).’

40 A: E: nizyuu-itiniti desu ne! HES 21 St CP-ipf ATF

‘um, (on) the 21st, you see,’

41 C: Hail BC

‘Mhm!’

42 A: kanryoo wa nee, dete orii n desu yo. completion TOP ATF show be-ipf (i) EP SP

‘it’s that (we)’re showing completion (of delivery), you know.’ (e.g., on the computer)

43 C: Dete 'masu ka?// show-ger be-ipf Q

‘(It)’s showing up?’

44 A: Dete 'masu. show-ger be-ipf

‘(It)’s showing up.’

45 C: Nizyuu-itiniti ni.// 21st on

‘on (the) 21st’

46 A: Nizyuu-itiniti, hai. 21st yes

‘(on the) 2 1 St, yes.’

In lines 40 and 42, Mr. Kaneda says that their system is showing ‘completion (of delivery)’ on the 21st; note that his use of dete-oru here is another indication of genre-

265 specific vocabulary.^ He conveys the new information through the extended predicate,

thus reframing or recharacterizing information that Ms. Yamamoto had given him earlier.

If we now consider the conversation as it has proceeded thus far, we may observe that the

participants are actually interactively co-constmcting a picture of reality through a series of frames. It is as though one snapshot is presented, followed by another taken at a slightly different angle (reflecting different surroundings, or context), followed by another, and so forth. The extended predicate, or more specifically, the nominal no (or n) functions to point to elements in the context that are essential to these angles and anchors them to the present situation, that is, the situation at the time of the utterance containing the EP. That situation may of course change from moment to moment, as we have observed in this conversation when new information is presented by the two participants.

But the purpose of employing the EP is nonetheless constant, despite these changes in situation or context.

Returning now to the ongoing conversation, we see that rather than tacitly accepting the new information about the delivery having been completed, Ms. Yamamoto is instead somewhat hesitant (perhaps because she has received contradictory information from the customer). She repeats the information for confirmation bit by bit (lines 43 and

45 above), and then finally begins to ask for additional information, as follows:

(6-9) Request for information (and ensuing offer)

47 C: E:to, sain...// wakarimasu ka? HES signature be clear-ipf Q

‘Um, is it clear (whose) signamre (was used to accept the delivery)?’

®It is likely that similar language would appear in other types of service encounters as well— for example, travel agency service encounters, in which agents indicate that they are ‘showing’ availability for various flights. See Geis (1995:45) for a discussion of such register features in English travel agency encounters.

266 48 A: Sain torimasyoo ka? signature take-cns Q

‘Shall (I/we) get (the) signature?’

In line 47, Ms. Yamamoto haltingly starts to mention the ‘signature,’ which is necessary for packages to be released. Here she is referring to the fact that once Kobe Shipping has obtained a signature from a customer (or from someone who is accepting the package on behalf of the customer), they can fax a copy of the signature release form to Kansai

Imports as proof that the package was indeed delivered. But before Ms. Yamamoto can even finish her question, Mr. Kaneda takes the initiative and offers to get the signature for her (line 48).

When extending his offer, Mr. Kaneda uses the consultative /-masyoo ka?/ pattern. This is an interrogative form, and as such it provides the interlocutor—in this case, Ms. Yamamoto—with the opportunity to refuse. The fact that Mr. Kaneda has selected this form suggests that perhaps he is unsure whether or not his offer will be acceptable to Ms. Yamamoto. The situation is much like that in English when one might ask, “Would you like me to....’’ As noted in Chapter 4, however, in Japanese it is not pragmatically acceptable to ask about the needs and desires of one’s interlocutor, so the

!-masyoo ka.Vform is preferable here.

As it turns out, Ms. Yamamoto accepts Mr. Kaneda’s offer by politely asking if she could have him get the signature, and he agrees to do so:

(6-10) Acceptance of the offer

49 C: Hai. Onegai dekimasu ka?// Yes beg-ipf-pot (-i) Q

‘Yes. Could (I) ask (you to do that)?’

267 50 A: Hai, wakarimasita.// ACK become clear-pf

‘Fine, understood.’

51 C: Onegai simasu:.// beg-ipf (i)

[‘Please do so.’]

52 A: Kiite okimasu n de: ask-ger do for future use-ipf EP-ger

‘It’s that (I/we)’11 ask about (it), so...(don’t worry).’

53 C: Doo mo. Thanks

‘Thanks.’

54 A: Hai. ACK

‘Sure.’

In line 51, it is possible that Ms. Yamamoto might have raised further concerns about the matter, or perhaps inquired about other shipments. Instead, however, she reiterates her request (this time in the plain, non-potential form). In doing so, she is able to bring closure to the discussion. Mr. Kaneda senses this and responds by restating or reframing what it is that he will do. Given that this is a new characterization of his offer of service, it is not surprising that it is conveyed with the extended predicate: kiite okimasu n de. The effect of his doing so is at once to (a) state his intention and express his willingness to look into the matter for Ms. Yamamoto, (b) reassure her that she need not worry (since he will take care of it), and (c) conclude the conversation. Ms. Yamamoto thanks him for his assistance in line 53, and the conversation ends with Mr. Kaneda’s acknowledgment in line 54.

268 6.3 Reporting an incomplete delivery

6.3.1 Background information

The caller in the second example we will now consider is also Ms. Yamamoto of

Kansai Imports (for reference, the complete text appears in Appendix H). Prior to this interaction, Kansai Imports had placed an order for five transformers from a small electrical appliance shop in Osaka named Masutaa Denki (Master Electric). On the

Saturday preceding the day this call was placed, a representative from Master Electric delivered three of the transformers to Kansai Imports; for some unidentified reason, the other two were not delivered. Ms. Yamamoto therefore places the following call in order to inquire about the situation.

6.3.2 Description of the interaction

The first part of the interaction begins as follows:

(6-11) Opening exchange

1 A%: Mosi mosi, [Masutaa Denki] [said very quietly] hello [Master Electric] CP-ipf

‘Hello, (this) is [Master Electric].

2 C: A, mosi mosi? oh hello

‘Oh, hello?’

3 A|: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

4 C: Et:to: sotira wa: Masutaa Denki desyoo ka. HES that side TOP Master Electric CP-tent Q

‘Um, would this be Master Electric?’

269 5 Ai; Hai, soo desu:. ACK so CP-ipf

‘Yes, (that)’s right.’

6 C: A, /hhh/ ano desu nee! oh ATF

‘Oh, /hhh/ well you see,’

7 C: Et. to: kotira [Kansai Yunyuu] to iimasu keredoMO:, HES this side Kansai imports QT be called-ipf but

‘Um, this is Kansai Imports but.’

8 Al: Kansai Unyu? Kansai shipping

‘Kansai Shipping?’ [mispronounces one syllable of A’s company name]

9 C: Kansai Yunyuu. Kansai imports.

‘Kansai Imports.’

10 Ai: Kansai Yunyuu. Kansai imports

‘Kansai Imports.’

11 C: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

12 Ai: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

The opening of this exchange differs markedly from that of the first example in this chapter as well as from others we saw previously in Chapter 5. To begin with, the female clerk at Master Electric who answers the telephone does not speak loudly enough for Ms. Yamamoto (or the transcriber of this conversation) to hear her, so Ms. Yamamoto

270 must confirm that she has reached the correct company. Upon that confirmation, Ms.

Yamamoto introduces herself by company name, only to have that name mispronounced by the same clerk. Clearly there is no established business relationship here; this is underscored by the fact that no salutations are exchanged between the two participants.

Moreover, the clerk at Master Electric seems to be relatively unfamiliar with the accepted ways of behaving in a business conversation; in addition to leaving out a salutation, her subsequent utterances are merely a series of acknowledgments, nothing more. As a result, the first part of the conversation proceeds in a rather awkward fashion.

(6-12) Transition to matter of business

13 C; Ano: kon'aida toransuhuoomaa O: HES other day transformer OBJ

‘Um, (the) other day, a transformer

14 A|: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

15 C: ano: tyuumon site- ta n desu GA: HES order make-ger be-pf EP but

‘Um, (it)’s that (we) ordered it, but...’

16 A|: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

17 C: E:to: MIttu doyOObi ni motte-kite- HES three Saturday on bring-ger

itadaite ne? receive from out -group-ger (i) ATF

‘Um, (we) had (you) bring three on Saturday, you see?’ 18 Ai: Hai. ACK

271 18 Ai: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

19 C: De: nokori no hutaîu o, e: kinoo then remainder CN two OBJ HES yesterday

motte-kuRU tte iwarete- ta n desu keDO: bring-ipf QT betold-ger be-pf EP but

‘(It)’s that (we)’d been told that the remaining two, um, (you)’d bring (them), but...’

20 Ai: Hai. ACK.

‘Yes.’

21 C; konakatta ndesu kedo. come-neg-pf EP but

‘(they) didn’t come, but....’

22 Ai: A, tyotto omati kudasai. oh litttle waiting give to in-group (T)

Oh, please wait a moment.’

23 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

In this section, Ms. Yamamoto begins her narrative of the problem with a general explanation that she ordered transformers the other day (lines 13C, 15C). Then after acknowledging in line 17C that her company had received three on Saturday, she points out in 19C that they had been told the remaining two would be brought to them

“yesterday.” By ending this clause with the particle kedo, she is able to imply that the situation is other than would have been expected; that is, the other two never arrived.

Moreover, the order in which she provides the elements of her description is marked.

272 While an unmarked sequence in this situation would be to mention the date (doyoobi) first and then the number of items (mittu), Yamamoto reverses the order. By placing the number at the outset of her utterance, she is able to emphasize the importance of the number. Given that the nature of the problem which she is trying to relate revolves around the fact that three, and not five, transformers were delivered, such a marked order is not surprising; indeed, it is an important contextualization cue which she sends to her listener regarding her intended message.

Since no offer of intervention or assistance is forthcoming, however (the clerk only responds minimally with hai in 20A), Ms. Yamamoto is forced to state explicitly in

21C that the transformers did not come. This is a face-threatening act; in Brown and

Levinson’s terms, the caller has gone “bald on record” and established as a fact that the supplier did not provide a promised service, albeit with a kedo ‘but’, which leaves the sentence open-ended. The clerk, upon being presented with this information, politely asks

Ms. Yamamoto to wait a moment.

The second stage of the interaction begins in line 24A, when a different, male clerk appears on the line, and Ms. Yamamoto introduces herself again (this time with more success):

(6-13) Second stage of the interaction with second speaker

24 A?: Mosi mosi? hello

‘Hello?’

25 C: A, mosi mosi? oh hello?

‘Hello?’

273 26 A%: A doomo, odenwa kawariZ/masita. oh thanks telephone change-pf

‘Oh thank you (for waiting).’

27 C: A doomo, kotira Kansai Yunyuu no Yamamoto to moosimasu GA: oh thanks this side Kansai imports CN Yamamoto QT be called-ipf but

‘Oh, thank you. This is (Ms.) Yamamoto of Kansai Imports, but...

28 A%: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

29 C: /hhh/ Ano: kono aida toransuhuoomaa 0: hhh HES other day transformer OBJ

‘/hhh/ Uh, the other day,’

30 A2: (0.3)

31 C: oodaa sita ndesu keredoMO: order do-pf EP but

‘(It)’s that (we) ordered transformers, but...’

32 Ai: Hai. (l.O) ACK

‘Mhm.’

33 C: E: doyoobi ni:, mittu—nanka itutu oodaa siTE:, HES Saturday on three somehow five order do-ger

‘Um, on Saturday, three—somehow, having ordered five,’

34 C: ano: saisyo itutu haitatu surareru to iwareta n desu GA: HES first five deliver be done QT be told EP but

‘Um, (it)’s that at first, (we) were told (that) 5 would be delivered,’

35 A%: A, mittu sika nakatta// desu ne? A three only have-neg-pf CP-ipf SP

‘Oh, (you) only had three, right?’

274 36 C: Ee, ee, ee. De doyoobi haitatu site- itadaiTE: yes yes yes then Saturday delivery do-ger receive from out-grp-ger (i)

‘Yes, yes, yes. Then Saturday, having (you) deliver,’

37 A%: Hai, hai, hai, hai. yes yes yes yes

‘Yes, yes, yes, yes.’

38 C: De nokori no hutatu ga nanka mokuyOObi ni kimasii: then remainder CN two SUB somehow Thursday on come-ipf

tte iwarete- ta n// desu keredomo. QT be told-pf be-pf EP but

‘Then (it)’s that (the) other two, somehow, will come on Thursday, we were told, but... ,

39 A?: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that right.’

40 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

41 A?: Tyotto, sirabemasu wa nee! little look into-ipf SP SP

‘(I)’11 just look into it, OK?’

Because Ms. Yamamoto cannot be sure that the information she related to the first clerk has been conveyed to the second clerk, she repeats her explanation. Syntactically, her explanation is remarkably similar in structure to the first, with the essential information— time of reference, the item in question, the number ordered and so forth—distributed over a series of phrases ending with phrase or conjunctive particles that are given additional stress and higher pitch (indicated in capital letters), which prompts aizuti from the clerk.

275 Moreover, she first makes a general statement about having ordered the transformers, and

then moves on to specify the number of units.

However, the content of her explanation differs lexically and pragmatically from

the original. Although she begins to explain in line 33C that “on Saturday, three-”

[arrived], which is similar to what she expressed in 17C, she adopts a different strategy in

the middle of her utterance and amplifies her earlier explanation, indicating with a hedge,

nanka, that [her company] had ordered five transformers.^ Part of her rationale for doing

so may be that the unmarked order of the first part of this utterance does not sufficiently

emphasize the problem, i.e. the number of transformers ordered vs. the number received.

Therefore in 34C, Ms. Yamamoto recharacterizes the situation once more (using the EP),

indicating that she/her colleagues had been told that five would be delivered. Then by

following this information with the conjunctive particle ga, Yamamoto is able to imply a

situation contrary to expectation (as she did earlier in 19C). The use of kedo, ga, and

hedges such as nanka is probably motivated by the face-threatening nature of the

information that Ms. Yamamoto is presenting.

The clerk either perceives the contrast which Ms. Yamamoto is trying to convey,

or has already been apprised of the details by the first clerk, because in 35A he responds

^See Maynard (1989:30-31) on the use ofnanka as a filler. She argues that such fillers can “create an atmosphere in which the speaker shows some hesitancy and less certainty about his or her message content, and, therefore, gives an impression o f being less imposing” (31 ). In support of this, she presents one example in which nanka was used “to make the utterance softer and less impactful” (31). Maynard then proceeds to define what she calls the “social packaging" of speech in Japanese, which “is a socially motivated act to construct the content of the utterance in such a way as to achieve maximum agreeableness to the recipient. Just as packaging a product hides the content in a visually pleasing form, frequent use o f final particles and fillers help hide the message, delaying and softening its delivery until the speaker is certain that the interpersonal feelings are intact when the semantic content is conveyed to the other interactant” (31 ). Maynard distinguishes this from what she sees as the “more narrowly defined notion of formal politeness,” yet argues that such use o f particles and fillers demonstrates the Japanese tendency in friendly casual conversation toward the positive politeness of Brown and Levinson (1978). Maynard summarizes her comments on “social packaging” by remarking that it “is best understood as an expression of contextual transformation on the part of the speaker in order to maximize the effect of personal appeal” (31 ).

276 to Ms. Yamamoto by confirming that she had only received three (of the transformers).

She quickly agrees repeatedly with this assessment, and then continues to explain that the

delivery having been made on Saturday, they’d been told that the remaining two would,

somehow, come on Thursday. The clerk initially gives a non-committal response in 39A,

but when Ms. Yamamoto provides no more details in 40C, he offers to check into the

situation, saying Tyotto sirabemasu wa nee!^ By using the declarative, the clerk would seem to be acknowledging some responsibility to do something about the situation; in other words, he is taking a stand on the issue rather than adopting, for example, the more tentative, open-ended and consultative /-masyoo ka?/pattern.

For the next minute or so, the clerk consults with his co-workers. After returning in line 42A, he indicates that ‘in that case,’ he will look into the matter, and offers to call back. Ms. Yamamoto accepts (or perhaps merely acknowledges) the offer in 45C.

(6-14) Offering assistance

42 A]: M osi mosi! hello

‘Hello?’

43 C: Hai! yes

‘Yes!’

44 Ai: Sositara ano ima sirabemasite in that case HES now look into-ger

tyotto, odenwa sasiagemasyo ka?//^ just telephone give to out-group-cns (>L) Q

‘In that case um, shall I look into (it) now and Just give (you) a call?’

^The sentence particle wa here is usually uttered by women, but in Kansai it is often used by both sexes. ^This was uttered with the slightly flat intonation common among Kobe speakers; note also the shortened vowel in sasiagemasyo.

211 45 C: A soo desii// ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is (that) so.’

The clerk then goes on to confirm precisely what he will be ‘looking into.’ As he begins to note this information, Ms. Yamamoto indicates that if possible they would like an additional transformer. The clerk immediately confirms this information not once, but twice, and restates the specifications regarding the type of transformer that Kansai

Imports had ordered.

(6-15) Confirming information

46 A%: Kore, ato: ni-ko: goiriyoo desu ne? these left two need (+) CP-ipf SP

‘You need two more of these, right?’

47 C: Ano: dekitara, ne?// HES be possible-cnd SP

San-ko ni site- itadakitai n desii// keDO: three GL do-ger receive from out-group-des (>L) EP but

‘Um, if possible, you see? (It)’s that (we)’d like to have you (deliver) three, but...’

48 Ai: Hai. A soo desu ka. BC Oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Mhm.’ ‘Is that so.’

49 C: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

50 Ao: Moo san-ko, ne? more three SP

‘Three more, right?’

278 SIC: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

52 A2: Zyaa, emu effu gohyaku yuu yuu gohyaku watto no toransu O: well then M- F 500 U-U 500 watt CN transforms OBJ

‘Well then, MF 500, UU 500 watt transformers,’

53 C: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

54 A2: ato ni-ko no bun wa moo ik-ko tiiika, left two CN amount TOP more one addition

san-ko to in koto desu ne? three QT say matter CP-ipf SP

‘adding one (to) (the) remaining two, so it’s three, right?’

55 C: Hai! yes

‘Yes.’

56 Ay. Hai, wakarimasita! ACK become clear-pf

‘OK, got it.’

Following an exchange of ‘okays,’ through which the speakers signal to each other that they have settled the matter under discussion, Ms. Yamamoto requests a return phone call, despite the clerk’s earlier offer to call back. Using the humble polite, the clerk restates and reassures her of his intention to do so.

(6-16) Confirming information

57 C: Ano: orikaesi, zyaa, odenwa itadakemasu ka? HES return call in that case call receive from out-grp-ipf ('i) Q

‘Um, in that case, could (we) receive a call back?’

279 58 A 2: Hai, sirabete:, odenwa sasiagema//su:. ACK look into-ger call give to out-group-ipf (i)

‘Yes, having looked into it, (we/I)’ll call (you).’

Once these matters have been settled, the participants may then move into the closing section of the call, as illustrated in (6-17):

(6-17) Closing the conversation

59 C: Hai, situree desu kedo: ACK rudeness CP-ipf but

‘Excuse me, but.’

60 A%: A, Masutaa Denki, Hashimoto desu:. oh Master Electric Hashimoto CP-ipf

‘Oh, (I)’m Hashimoto, Master Electric.

61 C: Hashimoto-san desu ne?// Hai, yorosiku//onegai-simasu:. Mr. Hashimoto CP-ipf SP? ACK well request-ipf (i)

‘(It)’s Mr. Hashimoto, right? Please [take care of it for me].’

62 A2: Hai! Yorosiku onegai-simasu. BC well request-ipf (i)

‘Mhm.’ ‘May things go well.’

Note that Ms. Yamamoto’s inquiry about her addressee’s name would not have been necessary at this juncture had Hashimoto provided his name when he first picked up the phone in line 24. Knowing that she may need this information later, however, Ms.

Yamamoto makes her polite request which, together with Hashimoto’s reply and

Yamamoto’s confirmation of that information, represents an insertion sequence. Had

Yamamoto already known this information, the conversation would have proceeded immediately to the ritual closing exchange.

280 6.4 Conclusions

Structurally speaking, the two conversations we have just considered are similar in that they consist of an opening section, a transition to and a discussion of a matter of business, a pre-closing section in which the business matter agreed upon in the previous section is restated or summarized, and a closing section in which the participants take their leave of each other. The conversations thus illustrate the generic structure of JBTCs that was outlined in the previous chapter.

Moreover, there are similarities between the two conversations in terms of the way in which details of the transaction are reported, as well as the way in which offers of assistance are extended in response to service problems.In both conversations, there is an initial indication by the service recipient as to when and what the transaction involved; this functions as the maeoki, or transaction section. The time indicated is general in both cases— kono mae and kon ’aida. The description of the transaction in the first conversation is that books were sent from the office; in the second, that transformers were ordered. The predicate in both utterances ends with the EP followed by a conjunctive particle (/n desu GA\f). Then in the EP functions to anchor the information being presented about the transaction to the present discourse situation, namely that the service recipient is contacting the service provider by telephone.

Following the maeoki, the service provider moves on to a second stage in the reporting phase in order to provide more specific details. Since these are two unrelated transactions, it is only natural that the type of information that must be reported differs slightly. In the first case, what is mentioned next is the exact dispatch date of the shipment, followed by the EP. In the second conversation, the number of items and the

*°In the conversation between Ms. Yamamoto and Master Electric, it is the first problem report which is described here; the second will be compared below.

281 day they were delivered is stated, followed by an attention focuser; we have pointed out that the order in which these are mentioned is marked in that it reverses the usual sequence of /date + (item) + number of items + predicate/.

In the third stage of reporting, the first caller states that the means of shipment was home (not commercial) delivery, and then gives the service provider the routing slip number, which he repeats. In the second conversation, the caller says they were told that the service provider would bring the two remaining transformers ‘yesterday’. This predicate is framed with the EP and a conjunctive particle.

At this point, the service provider in the first conversation perceives that the problem may be an incomplete delivery. It is possible that the mention of the routing slip number, which is a register feature common to business conversations and therefore a contextualization cue, sufficiently hints at the problem, since incomplete shipments had occurred before in Kansai Import’s transactions with the same company. In the second conversation, however, it is necessary for the service recipient to continue beyond the third stage and actually specify that the transformers never came before the service provider puts her on hold to look into the situation. The relative delay in the service provider’s reaction in the second case could be attributed to the fact that Kansai Imports did not place regular orders with Master Electric, so that the present situation may have been unprecedented.

As for the offers of assistance, in both cases once the service provider has become aware of the problem, he extends an initial offer of assistance using the I-masyoo ka?t form, which is accepted by the service recipient. The service provider then restates his offer, adopting either the plain declarative {/-masu/) form or the declarative plus the gerund of the EP (/-masu no def) in order to reassure the service recipient of his willingness and intention to undertake the service under discussion.

282 The conversation between Kansai Imports and Master Electric is quite a study in

contrasts among the differing ways in which speakers may participate in the same generic

activity. The initial call recipient at Master Electric, perhaps due to a lack of experience or

a lack of knowledge about encounters such as this one, barely responds to Ms.

Yamamoto’s inquiries and problem reporting. Once the second clerk takes over, however,

the interaction proceeds much more smoothly.

In Ms. Yamamoto’s second, nearly identical report, she presents the information

about the missing transformers in a series of phrases marked by the extended predicate

(indicating successively more specific recharacterizations of the situation). In the maeoki,

she gives a general indication of the date {kono aida) and the nature of the transaction,

namely that transformers were ordered. In the second stage, she begins with a false start

of sorts by providing the day and the number of items actually delivered; she then changes

her mind and instead indicates that they had ordered five (transformers), and were told at

first that five would be delivered. This information is framed with the EP and a

conjunctive particle. At this point (following the second stage), the clerk perceives the

problem before it becomes necessary for Ms. Yamamoto to spell it out fully (as she had

been forced to do in her first report). In doing so, he allows Ms. Yamamoto to avoid

stating the problem directly, which would pose a potential threat to his negative face.

This perceptiveness on the part of the clerk echoes that of the clerk in the first example we considered earlier in this chapter. Their perceptiveness no doubt derives from

an understanding of role, obligation, and expectations pertaining to the situation at hand.

Moreover, it is probably a product of experience, shaped over time. Through their participation in recurring encounters such as this one, speakers such as the two male clerks and Ms. Yamamoto learn how it is that they are supposed to act in these contexts, given the types of problems that tend to arise in their respective businesses and given the

283 aim of a continued business relationship. Once they have developed reliable intuitions, it becomes possible for them to respond in these situations in a natural and appropriate fashion that is more accommodating and considerate of the customer. In short, these speakers know how to effectively perform this genre of conversational activity.

284 CHAPTER 7

PEDAGOGICAL IMPLICATIONS

7.1 Introduction

We have seen through the examples presented in the previous chapters that it is necessary even for native speakers to become well-versed and experienced in the appropriate genre-specific behavior in order to function effectively in business contexts.

Bakhtin has noted that “Speech genres are much more changeable, flexible, and plastic than language forms are, but they have a normative significance for the speaking individuum, and they are not created by him but are given to him” (Bakhtin 1986:80-81 ).

In a sense, the acquisition of speech genres for the second language learner is like the study of roles In a play to an actor. The leamer, much like an actor, is given his/her lines to rehearse, and probably looks to a model to observe how this “part” has been enacted before. Actors, for example, often shadow those people on whose lives a particular part is based, in order to learn more about the nuances of the part they will play. At first, the actor may not feel comfortable in his/her role, but with practice and feedback from directors in rehearsal (as well as perhaps the models themselves), the actor’s performances become more smooth and convincing. With time, the actor develops a sense for the role, and may then, only once the part is well-learned, inject his or her own style into the role.

In the case of speech genres, as Bakhtin has pointed out, there is a range from more tightly constrained, ritual genres such as greetings and farewells, which leave little

285 room for individuality apart from expressive intonation and the choice of the genre itself, to artistic genres, which allow for more individual expression. Regardless of which speech genre is at issue, however, Bakhtin notes that

The better our command of genres, the more freely we employ them (where this is possible and necessary), the more flexibly and precisely we reflect the unrepeatable situation of communication— in a word, the more perfectly we implement our free speech plan. (Ibid.:80)

In other words, the better one’s mastery of the speech genres of a given language, the better one’s ability to participate in the activities of a given society. One may better express oneself, and one will be better understood by the members of the culture who speak that language. This ensures smooth communication among participants.

Bakhtin is also quick to point out that his view of speech genres and the notion of the utterance differs sharply from that of Saussure and, actually, the majority of the world’s linguists:

The single utterance, with all its individuality and creativity, can in no way be regarded as a completely free combination of forms of language, as is supposed, for example, by Saussure (and by many other linguists after him), who juxtaposed the utterance (la parole), as a purely individual act, to the system of language as a phenomenon that is purely social and mandatory for the individuum. The vast majority of linguists hold the same position, in theory if not in practice. They see in the utterance only an individual combination of purely linguistic (lexical and grammatical) forms and they neither uncover nor study any of the other normative forms the utterance acquires in practice. (Ibid.:81)

Bakhtin also notes in this regard that one’s selection of words is influenced by our knowledge of the use of those words in other utterances', hence, “we choose words according to their generic specifications”:

A speech genre is not a form of language, but a typical form of utterance; as such the genre also includes a certain typical kind of expression that inheres in it. In the genre the word acquires a particular expression.

286 Genres correspond to typical situations of speech communication, typical themes, and, consequently, also to particular contacts between the meanings of words and actual concrete reality under certain typical circumstances. Hence also the possibility of typical expressions that seem to adhere to words. (Ibid.:87)

In short, we choose our words based on how these words have been used by other speakers on similar but particular occasions, for similar purposes, in similar contexts.

Bakhtin argues that “the unique speech experience of each individual is shaped and developed in continuous and constant interaction with others’ individual utterances. This experience can be characterized to some degree as the process of assimilation—moT& or less creative—of others’ words (and not the words of a language)” (Ibid.:89). This is how our utterances acquire their situated meaning—the “echo of the generic whole that resounds in the word” (Ibid.:88). This meaning can of course change over time as speakers change their usage; in turn, speech genres, which are flexible and open-ended, can and will change as well. As Bakhtin put it, “Speech genres in general submit fairly easily to re-accentuation” (Ibid.:87).

While native speakers benefit from the fact that they grow up in a society where these models of how language is put to similar purposes are all around them, our students do not have this opportunity unless they can manage an extended period abroad. The question for us as teachers is thus how we may bring those models into the classroom, and moreover, how we might go about teaching our students to develop the proper intuitions in order to behave in a culturally nuanced manner in the target language. These are the issues we will address in this chapter.

7.2 Evaluating appropriate models for the classroom

As has been emphasized throughout this investigation, it is essential that students be given opportunities to observe authentic models of native speaker behavior in a variety

287 of contexts, and moreover, that they have numerous chances to ‘try on’ this behavior in order to experience and practice it for themselves. Through a process of careful modeling, guided rehearsal, consistent and frequent feedback, and actual performance of these skills, we can enable our students to go far beyond mere ‘book knowledge’ of a language and a culture. Such an approach can help students to move from a focus on words to that of worlds.

But in order for students to leam how to act appropriately in a given culture, they must have models, and many of the models which are readily available to students come in the form of dialogues in language textbooks. If our textbooks accurately reflect the ways in which native speakers interact, then our pedagogical practice stands a better chance of success. However, it is often the case that some exemplars of conversations are abstract, idealized versions of everyday interactions. In this section, I would like to present two contrasting examples of business telephone conversations taken from actual business textbooks on the market, and then compare them to the types of conversations we have just seen and discussed in previous chapters. We will also briefly consider some other resources available for models of telephone conversations in Japanese.

7.2.1 Textbook conversation 1: Reporting a problem

This example was selected from Executive Japanese (1987), volume 3, Chapter

28, which is entitled, “After-Sales Service.”' Although the conversation was included in a section called “Additional Vocabulary,” in terms of form it is presented in the textbook as the beginning of a conversation:-

'Cited in the bibliography as Takamizawa (1987). - In the textbook, the example appeared in romanized form using the Hepburn system. The romanization has been changed here to be consistent with that used throughout this dissertation.

288 (7-1 ) Sample conversation entitled “After-Sales Service,” from Executive Japanese^

A|: Mosimosi, kotira wa Meziro ni-tyoome no Tiba desu ga, senzitu otaku de katta bideo no giiai ga hen na no de, mite moraitai n desu.

‘Hello, this is (Mr/s.) Chiba of Mejiro 2-chome. The video (cassette recorder) that I bought at your store the other day is acting strangely, so (the reason Fm calling) is that Fd like to have you look at it.’

B|: Sugu ukagaimasu. Ni-tyoome no nan-banti desyoo ka.

‘(We)’Il be there right away.-^ What number building would you be (located) at in the 2-chome (area)?

Ao: Zyuiihati-banti desu. Kooban no usiro desu kara, wakaranakattara, soko no keekan ni kiite kudasai.

‘It’s building number 18. It’s behind the police box, so if it’s not clear, please ask a policeman there.’

B2: Wakarimasita. Meziro ni-tyoome zyuuhati-banti no Tiba-sama desu ne? ‘(I)’ve understood. It’s Mr/s. Chiba of #18 in 2-chome, right?’

What perhaps strikes us first about this conversation in contrast to those we have analyzed in previous chapters is that the caller’s first utterance is extremely long. It includes an initial greeting, self-identification, a complete explanation of a service-related problem, and a request for assistance—in short, all of the essential information is squeezed into one sentence, without any intervening aizuti (back-channel) or reply from the call recipient. In naturally occurring conversation, there would almost certainly have been some sort of response from the call recipient, at least after the caller’s self- identification.

^Glosses are my own. '^Note that the repairman indicates he will go visit the customer in order to repair the machine, rather than having the customer bring the machine into the store, as would probably be the custom in the United States.

289 In addition, the caller takes a more direct, and thereby face-threatening, approach than did the service recipients recorded in the data corpus; s/he immediately indicates that there is a problem with the video (recorder), rather than prefacing her report of the problem with a maeoki and stating, for example, that she would like to make an inquiry

(e.g., Tyotto okiki sitai n desu kedo....). There are other ways which a caller in an equivalent situation might have mitigated the potential negative face threat to the call recipient as well. One would be to use a hesitation marker such as ano: or e:to^ prior to either themaeoki and/or the explanation of the problem. Secondly, although the caller does adopt the EP here to anchor the new information about the problem to the larger discourse situation (i.e., the fact that she is calling the store), typically in the examples we observed from the data corpus, service recipients followed the EP with a conjunctive particle in order to leave the statement open-ended. The result is an utterance which sounds less pushy (ositukegamasii). A more natural way for the caller to present her case, then, would be the following:

(7-2) I A: Mosimosi, kotira wa Meziro no san-tyoome no hello this side TOP Mejiro CN three block CN

Tiba desu ga, Chiba CP-ipf but

‘Hello, this is Chiba of (the) third block in Mejiro, but....’

IB: Hai. ACK

‘Yes?’

2A: Ano: tyotto okiki sitai koto ga aru n desu kedo: HES just ask-des-ipf (i) matter SUB have EP but

‘It’s just that there is something (I)’d like to ask, but....’

^The caller might even use an attention getter such as Ano desu ne! prior to the maeoki.

290 2B: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

3A: senzitu otaku de katta bideo no other day your residence LOG buy-pf video CN

guai ga hen na no de, mite condition SUB strange CP-ipf EP-ger look-ger

moraitai n desu ga: receive from out-grp- des-ipf EP but

‘It’s that the video (I/we) bought at your location the other day is acting strangely, so it’s that (I/we)’d like to have you look at it, but....’

Another aspect of this conversation worth noting is the fact that it appears to focus rather heavily on location-related vocabulary and structures (e.g., tyoome ‘block’, hanti

‘building’, kooban ‘police box’, usiro ‘behind’, keekan ni kikii ‘ask a policeman’). As mentioned earlier, the conversation appeared in a section of the textbook lesson which was devoted to vocabulary, so essentially this conversation would appear to be aimed at contextualizing the vocabulary in the chapter. While it is of course important to contextualize vocabulary and grammatical structures, if the primary motivation behind materials creation is ideational, i.e. a focus on the meaning of words, to the exclusion of the interpersonal and textual aspects of language, then the resulting “language” presented may be far from authentic. The additions we have suggested above, namely aizuti, attention focusers, conjunctive particles, and the maeoki (including its EP), are both interpersonal and textual in nature; by giving these elements of spoken conversation their proper place in the conversation, we may provide better models for our students.

One other issue we might address here is the possibility that the difference in discourse strategies we have observed between this sample from a textbook and the examples in the data corpus could be due to a difference in genre. That is, perhaps in

291 cases in which individual customers call to make requests for repairs of personal items or

equipment purchased at a store, these speakers might be more direct than would company

representatives talking among themselves.^ In fact, the conversation appearing in

Appendix G between the customer from the ABC Educational Association and Ms.

Yamada of Tokyo Bookstore suggests that this could be the case; the customer mentions

the problem of the incorrect shipment at a relatively early point in the conversation. Future

studies which might take this distinction into account could clarify any potential generic

differences. If indeed there is a difference, it would be helpful if textbooks could present

models of both types of situations and label or describe them accordingly.

7.2.2 Textbook conversation 2: Offering assistance using

I-masyoo ka?P

The second example we will examine is taken from Chapter 7 of a textbook

entitled Nihongo de bijinesu kaiwa (Business Conversation in Japanese) .* (For

reference, a romanized version of the conversation with English equivalents has been

provided in Appendix K.) This is the main conversation for that lesson, which focuses on

telephone conversations. Although no supplementary notes or translations in English are

provided in the text, a headnote to the conversation in Japanese explains that the

participants are Mr. Obayashi,^ an employee of a company called Universal Research, and

Mr. Wayne,‘0 an employee in the Sales section of a company known as Toyo Shoji (East

Asia Trading).

^That is, among companies that have established business relationships and representatives who are in regular contact with each other. ^This example originally appeared in mixed kanji/kam script in the text, but has been transliterated into romanization here. *The text was published by the Nichibei Kaiwa Gakuin in 1987; this example appeared on pp. 38-9 in volume 1 of the Intermediate level (Chuukytiuhen) textbook. ^For the sake of simplicity in this description, we will assume that both Obayashi and Wayne are male. '^Although Wayne is both a first name and a surname in English, we will assume in this case it refers to the employee’s last name, because as we have noted, in business contexts the practice is to introduce

292 In contrast to the first textbook example which we considered in section 7.2.1, this conversation much more closely resembles those collected for this study. First, we may note that it is a complete conversation, transcribed from the moment the operator

{kookan) picks up the line at Toyo Shoji and continuing through the closing exchange.

Moreover, a quick glance at the text reveals that almost all of the utterances are limited to a single sentence, if not just a single clause; the exceptions are Obayashi’s line 6 and

Wayne’s line 8. Every utterance which is a complete sentence has a distal style predicate; among these, many appear in honorific-polite (e.g., irassyaimasu), neutral-polite (e.g., de gozaimasu) or humble-polite (e.g., moosimasu) form. In comparison, the first (albeit much shorter) conversation in 7.2.1 contained only one humble-polite utterance

{ukagaimasu), and an imperative form of an honorific-polite verbal {kudasai). Here again, however, it is possible that these differences could be attributable to genre, i.e. a difference between careful conversations among company employees versus more casual conversations between an individual customer and his/her neighborhood appliance store clerk.

Returning to the second conversation, we note that it has a clear beginning, middle, and end which generally follows the structure outlined in Figure 5.1 for JBTCs.

Moreover, the participants adopt many of the register features which we noted in Figure

5.2 were common in business contexts. In the opening section, for example, the call recipient (the company operator) provides a self-identification which is limited to the company name. When the caller (Obayashi) does not immediately provide his name, he is prompted to do so with the same form we saw in the conversation in Appendix I (lines 7-

oneself by company affiliation and last name. Therefore when (Mr.) Wayne introduces himself toward the end of the conversation {Uein to moosimasu in Wayneg), the gloss that is provided ( ‘My name is Wayne.’) reflects the fact that when speaking to the out-group but referring to oneself or a member of one’siiti, the custom in Japanese is to drop the polite suffix -san from the name. A comparable but less ambiguous example with an American name would be Siimisu to moosimasu ‘I’m Smith.’ (See 7-4)

293 8), namely Situree desu ga, dotira-sama desu ka? Obayashi’s response conforms to the pattern we suggested was typical as well, i.e./[organization] + (jio) + [name] to moosimasu ga.../.

Since Obayashi has asked to speak with Mr. Taniguchi in Sales, the operator transfers the call and announces to the person who picks up the phone who is on the line.*' Thus Mr. Wayne’s first utterance (identifying the Sales section) is addressed to the operator; he then repeats the self-identification in his opening line to Mr. Obayashi.

Obayashi identifies himself in response, using a hesitation noise at the outset of his utterance and a conjunctive particle at the end, which we have seen is appropriate. Mr.

Wayne then acknowledges the ongoing business relationship between his own company and Universal Research with his salutation. A, itumo osewa ni natte-orimasu. Rather than responding literally in kind (as we saw many speakers do in the data corpus),

Obayashi instead replies by saying lie, kotira koso ‘The same to you’. While this is certainly acceptable practice, it is interesting to note that in the 50 hours of recordings for which transcripts were made in this investigation, none included an instance of this form.

We then move into the body of the call, in which Obayashi requests to speak with

Mr. Taniguchi, who is the chief of the Sales section. The usage of the pattern /[last name]

+ title/ as opposed to /[last name] + san! for individuals in positions of leadership within a company was observed in the data for this study; compare line 5C in example (5-14) in

Chapter 5, in which a caller asks to speak with Section Chief Fujiwara by saying,

E:to:Huziwara-butyoo irassyaimasu desyoo ka. Likewise, Mr. Wayne’s response that

Taniguchi was out of the room at the moment ([last name] wa tadaima, tyotto gaisyutu- tyuu na n desu ga) is similar to the patterns used in comparable situations in the data

' 'We have not addressed this aspect of JBTCs because the companies participating in the study were relatively small and did not have operators.

294 corpora. We may also note here Wayne’s use of the belittler tyotto, which minimizes the

negative aspect of the news that Taniguchi is out, as well as the EP, which connects the

new information being presented about Taniguchi’s whereabouts to the larger discourse

situation, which includes Obayashi’s earlier request to speak with him. As noted in earlier chapters, this type of a response serves as an explanation for the requested person’s absence, not because the EP is a form of explanation in and of itself, but rather because the deictic function of n in the EP focuses the listener’s attention on the connection between the context and the new information, and suggests to the listener that this connection is something recoverable, sharable, and understandable. As such, the entire utterance serves as an explanation in this particular context for the fact that Taniguchi is not available.

Once Mr. Obayashi has been informed that Taniguchi cannot come to the phone, he inquires about and is told when he is scheduled to retum to the office. Mr. Wayne’s utterance in his fifth line (Anoo, nani ka...) is particularly notable for its indirectness and also for the fact that it actually represents an offer of assistance; rather than completing the sentence with a predicate, the preferred form in this situation is precisely this fragment.

The fact that Wayne does not need to specify more here to be understood is an index of the participants’ experience with the genre; this is in sharp contrast to the first example we saw in 7.2.1, in which the caller attempted to spell out everything in one sentence.

Mr. Obayashi next moves into a transition section for what is essentially a new item of business, leaving a message for Mr. Taniguchi. He begins with an attention focuser {Zitu wa ‘Actually’), and then provides what closely resembles a maeoki except for the fact that the predicate is perfective, rather than imperfective, so the sense of his utterance is ‘Actually, it’s just that there was something (I) wanted to ask (him) about.

295 but....’ Despite the difference in tense, however, the utterance has the same function, which is to alert the call recipient of the reason for the call.'-

We noted earlier that Obayashi’s turn at this particular point in the conversation is relatively long. Based on what we have observed in other conversations (that is, based on our experience with other enactments of this genre), we would expect a back-channel response of some sort by the call recipient in response to Obayashi’s maeoki, and also to his request for confirmation of the time of Taniguchi’s retum, because the sentence particle ne? often elicits aizuti in these situations. Thus we might also anticipate back- channel from the listener following the other requests for confirmation in the remainder of this conversation (cf. Wayneg and Obayashig).

Obayashi then informs Wayne that he will call back around the time he is expected to retum. He states this matter-of-factly; had he used the !-masyoo ka?! pattem, his utterance would have been more tentative, since its interrogative, consultative form seeks a response from the addressee. Another alternative here would have been for him to adopt thet-masu no del pattem; in doing so, he might have conveyed a more reassuring statement of his intention to call back. However, Wayne himself responds to this with an offer to have Taniguchi call back upon his retum. Obayashi accepts, and politely requests that this be done. He then states his phone number when asked to provide it, and the extension. He also repeats his name, which we saw in the data was common practice during the pre-closing section of calls. After confirming the number and the name, Wayne restates what it is he has agreed to do, i.e. have Taniguchi call back on his retum.

Although he did not do so here, we might anticipate that he could have appended no de to this utterance and thereby more strongly assured Obayashi of his willingess to take care of

'-See Jordan with Noda ( 1988:15) for a comparable example using the perfective. The shift from imperfective to perfective reflects the fact that since the requested person is not available, the caller had wanted to ask a question, which s/he now cannot.

296 the matter. Adding the EP here would also ground the offer in the larger frame of the previous discourse.

Finally, Wayne identifies himself (as is the practice in pre-closing sections when a speaker has not yet identified him or herself). Obayashi confirms the name, and requests once more that Wayne take care of the matter they have agreed upon. This signals that he is ready to “close” the conversation; we saw in Chapter 5 that de wa in particular functions as a contextualization cue for pre-closing at this juncture in a conversation.

Wayne’s response that he has understood likewise provides the same cue. The two then take their leave in the final closing section of the call.

7.2.3 Additional resources

There are of course numerous other business textbooks which we have not considered here, as well as many more textbooks of a more general nature which could provide additional models of telephone conversations. An example of the former is

Business Japanese: A guide to improved communication (Nissan Motor Company,

1984:35-38). At the end of Lesson 3 in a section entitled “Business Information,” under the subheading “Communicating over the Phone,” the authors state:

In Japan, as anywhere else in the world, effective communication over the phone is an invaluable tool in all business transactions. In addition to the expressions and vocabulary already introduced in this Lesson, the following typical conversations are provided to enable you to hold your own while exchanging greetings and formalities over the telephone.

While the first sentence which points out the importance of business transactional telephone conversations in Japan and the rest of the world is clearly on the mark, the second sentence belies a common yet often subtle problem in the way language learning materials can be presented. We have touched on this already with the first sample conversation we considered in 7.2.1 ; that is, the placement of the conversation in the text

297 appeared to be driven largely by considerations for vocabulary, rather than for a more fundamental functional and discourse-based goal. While the authors of Business

Japanese would seem to be aware of the functional importance of these business calls, the way in which they have ordered their materials places primary importance on individual words and phrases, rather than actual discourse. Had the “typical conversations” they present in this later section been placed instead at the outset of the chapter, with supplementary vocabulary and expressions provided in support of the dialogues, then there might have been a more natural opportunity for students to focus first on models, through which they could leam the associations of words or expressions with their contexts in actual utterances, as opposed to in isolation.

While it is well beyond the scope of this project to examine all of the conversations which appear in this text, we may note one fundamental problem which appears in the very first dialogue:

(7-3) Calling an office/^

Williams: Mosimosi. Watakusi wa Uiriamsu to moosimasu. Kaigai-bu no Oosawa-san onegai-simasu.

‘Hello, this is Williams calling. Could (I) please speak to Mr. Ohsawa of the International Division?

(Scenario 1)

Operator: Osore irimasu ga, do tira no Uiriamusu-sama desyoo ka.

‘Excuse me (for asking you this), but which organization do you belong to, Mr. Williams?’

Williams: Ee-bii-sii Toreedingu desu.

‘(I) am from ABC Trading.’

‘^This example, like the conversation in 7.2.1, appeared in Hepburn romanization in the textbook; it has been changed to be consistent with the system used here. The gloss provided is that in the textbook.

298 [N.B. It is normal for the operator, or any other person who first answers the call, to ask for the name of your organization. Therefore, it is usually more convenient simply to identify yourself fully right from the beginning, i.e. “Ee-bii-sii Toreedingu no Uiriamusu desu.”]

From the first word in the dialogue, the caller is already sending signals that he is not familiar with the proper genre-specific behavior for this situation, for he utters Mosimosi.

A quick survey of all of the conversations presented in the Appendices for this study, as well as those considered in the previous chapters, shows that the only case in which a caller began by saying Mosimosi was in Appendix 1. This example, we noted, was a personal call from an acquaintance of an employee at Kansai Imports. This caller did not provide her name or affiliation at the beginning of the call in line 2, nor did she provide an affiliation in line 9, when she gave her name after being prompted to do so. As a result, the unspoken message to the listener was that this was likely to be a personal call. Thus when Mr. Williams begins his call in example (7-3) in the manner that he does above, the operator may at first wonder about his affiliation—hence her query.

What is particularly curious is the “N.B.” note which appears in the text below this example; while the advice to learners that they should provide their affiliation and name is well taken, the way in which the authors present this advice misses a wonderful opportunity to reveal how this type of self-introduction indexes the uti/soto distinction in

Japanese. Rather than presenting an inauthentic situation which requires a footnote and correction, would it not be better to provide the full form of self-identification in the model itself, and then note that this in fact is what is normal (at least in business contexts), since the mention of one’s company first indexes the primary importance of one’s membership in that group. The statement that “it is normal for the operator, or any other person who first answers the call, to ask for the name of your organization” is probably only partially true; among Japanese who are used to introducing themselves by

299 mentioning their company affiliation first, this is not a likely scenario.'*^ However, it could well be that it is normal for Japanese operators to ask for a caller’s affiliation when that caller is someone who demonstrates an unfamiliarity with this practice— namely, a foreigner.

There are two other problems we should identify in this conversation before moving on, and those are the fact that the caller uses watakusi wa prior to introducing himself, and also that he neglects to add a conjunctive particle such as ga or kedo at the end of that introduction. Here again, there are no examples in the data which support this practice in a business context. The problem with the addition of watakusi wa stems partly from the fact that it is redundant; by using moosimasu, which is a humble-polite verbal, the caller is already indicating that he is referring to himself. Moreover, as we have discussed in Chapter 4, grammatical subjects are generally not specified in Japanese if the referent is already clear from the context. In this case of a telephone conversation between two speakers, it can be assumed that the subject of statements uttered by a speaker is the speaker him/herself, and that the referent of questions or requests is the addressee. Thus, while speakers of Indo-European languages are often tempted to utter wata(ku)si wa at the outset of their statements and anata wa at the beginning of questions in Japanese, we see that neither is really necessary unless some particular contrast or special emphasis is called for.

The second problem we have identified involves the lack of a conjunctive particle at the end of the speaker’s self-identification; as we have seen, it is common practice for speakers to leave their utterances open in this context by adding kedo or ga at the end.

•'^This is not to say there are never occasions in which a caller does not provide his/her name and/or the company affiliation, but the data collected for this study (not just the examples presented here) strongly suggest that such cases are unusual.

300 In contrast to textbooks which miss opportunities to reveal not only linguistic information through model conversations but also culmral information, the three part series Japanese: The Spoken Language (JSL), Part 1-3 (Jorden with Noda 1987-1990) provides a wealth of such occasions. Despite the fact that this is not labeled as a business text per se, it nevertheless includes numerous samples of conversations in formal office contexts. Lesson 12 of Part I (1987:319-345) and Lesson 13 of Part 2 (1988:1-29) of the text are of particular interest here because they focus on telephone conversations.

In Lesson 12B, for example, the following conversation a p p e a r s : ‘5

(7-4) (J)a. Hai, Nihon-daigaku desu. ‘University of Japan.’

(N)a. Mosimosi. Yosida-Osamu-sensee, irassyaimasu ka? ‘Hello. Is Professor Osamu Yoshida there?’

(J)b. Dotira-sama de irassyaimasu ka? ‘Who’s calling, please?’

(N)b. Amerika no Nyuuyooku-daigaku no Sumisu to moosimasu ga.... ‘My name is Smith, from New York University in America, but...(is he in?)

(J)c. Syoosyoo omati-kudasai.... Just a moment, please....

Mosimosi. Yosida wa, ima seki o hazusit(e) orimasu ga... ‘[Professor] Yoshida is away from his desk (lit., seat) just now, but...(can I help you?)

*5jorden with Noda (1987:331-2). ‘(J)’ refers to the Japanese speaker in the conversation, and ‘(N )’ indicates the role which would be natural for a foreigner to assume— e.g. that of a student from a university in the United States. Glosses are those of the textbook.

301 (N)c. Zyaa, notihodo mata gorenraku-itasimasu kara.. Then I’ll be in touch again later, so...(that’s all for now).

(J)d. Doo mo sumimasen. T’m very sorry.’

(N)d. Gomen-kiidasai. ‘Goodbye.’

(J)e. Gomen-kiidasai. ‘Goodbye.’

There are several points worthy of mention here. First, the conversation reflects many of the features we identified in Chapter 5 as being typical of either telephone conversations generally or business conversations in particular. The call recipient’s initial self- identification in (J)a., for example, is identical in form to those we observed in the data; the speaker acknowledges the summons of the call by saying Hai, and then provides the name of the organization. In response, the caller (who is a student) requests to speak with his professor. Although the student does have a group affiliation in that he attends a university in the United States, he is not a company employee, so the nature of his call is relatively personal as compared to the conversations we have considered in this study.

This may explain the usage of Mosimosi here.

It was noted throughout the examples of telephone conversations presented in JSL that callers usually adopted Mosimosi as a way of getting the call recipient’s attention at the outset of the call. Indeed, the text includes the following detailed information regarding ritual behavior on the telephone (1987:335; portions following #3 deleted):

(1) Mosimosi, a polite ‘attention-getter,’ is particularly common as a ‘hello’ on the telephone. Hai is also used by the recipient of the call.

(2) Frequently the person answering the telephone in a private home identifies the family, immediately following a conversation opener. If a public organization of any kind is involved, identification of the organization is expected, often in addition to a conversation

302 opener— mosimosi, ohayoo gozaimasu, maido arigatoo gozaimasu.

(3) The caller is next expected to identify him/herself. Failure to do so regularly results in a question as to who is calling ([J]b.)

The note in section (1) suggests that Mosimosi is a common, polite ‘attention-getter’; however, it does not discriminate among contexts in the same way that the helpful note in

(2) does. Based on our observations of speaker behavior in the data for this study, it would appear that in business contexts, callers normally do not use Mosimosi, but instead provide a self-identification. On occasion, call recipients were heard using

Mosimosi, as was the case for in-house calls (see section 5.4.1.2.2), when another person was called to the phone (see Appendix D), or in instances such as the second line of (J)c. in (7-4) above, when the operator returns to the line after checking on a person’s whereabouts (see Appendix C). In both of these cases, the utterance truly served as an

‘attention-getter’ because the caller on the other end of the line could not otherwise know when the call recipient had picked up the phone.

Another possible reason for the disparity between the information in the textbook and the behavior observed in the data is that actual usage may well have changed over time. While the sections of 757-containing Lessons 12-13 were published in 1987-88, the data for this study were collected in 1994-5. Although it may not be obvious to speakers on an everyday basis, the ritual behavior used in telephone calls does in fact change; these shifts in speaker behavior then result in changes in the fuzzy outlines of genres. In addition, as we have pointed out the disparity could also be attributed to a difference in usage which depends upon role relationships and the genre of the call. That is, if the call is a personal one—and we have indicated that (7-4) may be one such example— then

Mosimosi still appears to be used quite frequently by callers and call recipients.

303 However, if the call is business-related, and the speakers have a regular business

relationship with each other, the caller may drop the attention-getting portion of their self- identification. Here again the data reaffirms the importance of role relationships in the linguistic choices which speakers make.

Returning now to the example in (7-4), we also note that after being prompted to do so, the caller provides a full self-identification, including his school affiliation, rather than merely his name alone. Taken together with the fact that he includes the conjunctive particle ga at the end of the utterance, this means that Mr. Smith’s utterance better reflects actual practice than does that of Mr. Williams in (7-3). His offer to call back in (N)c. is also in keeping with the behavior observed in the data corpora, with the exception that he uses kara rather thanno de at the end of his utterance. The difference between these two forms has been the subject of volumes of research, so the issue will not be explored here.

It is also beyond the scope of this project to discuss further sample conversations from other textbooks; it is suggested that this could be a fruitful area of future research in order to ascertain further details of how speakers actually behave in both business and personal telephone calls. As indicated earlier, it is essential that these studies be done regularly, for usage may indeed change over time.'^

'^Another possible change that may be occurring in usage is the shift from a response ofKotira koso to the business salutation (Itunto) osewa ni natte-orimasti {Kotira koso was presented in the textbook example appearing in Appendix K). As noted in section 7.2.2, speakers in the data corpus exchanged the salutation, with callers sometimes using the imperfective variant Osewa ni narimasu to signal that they may require the assistance o f the call recipient. Likewise, we have noted the recent trend for some callers to utter these salutations whether or not there is actually an established business relationship between the participants; in this sense it has truly become a form of ritual, whose original meaning has gradually faded.

304 7.3 Using models of Japanese business telephone conversations in the classroom

Now that we have evaluated several samples of conversations from business textbooks, we may turn to the question of how we might best incorporate the examples of naturally occurring conversation which we have presented in this study in the classroom.

Clearly we cannot simply begin by giving students a complete model of a JBTC to work from without first ensuring that they have a foundation in the language. But it is in fact possible to initially use portions of the data to illustrate some of the particularly challenging structures of Japanese grammar and discourse in order to enhance students’ understanding of those structures and their use. Students can then practice the application of these forms in particular contexts based on the models, with guided feedback from instructors. As part of this procedure, we can also point out to students how participants in each interaction incorporate certain contextualization cues in their utterances, which may often signal to the interlocutor what part of the utterance should be attended to, or what the speaker’s goal is in the interaction. Since this guided practice is modeled on authentic interactions by native speakers, we are in a sense simulating the process of the acquisition of utterances and speech genres which Bakhtin described (cited in Chapter 1 ), in which native speakers acquire their knowledge of vocabulary and syntax not through a study of grammars and dictionaries, but rather through hearing and observing the concrete utterances of other speakers in their community. In this way students can also gradually develop the sorts of expectations and intuitions which native speakers themselves develop over time.

Once students have achieved a certain level of proficiency with these smaller stretches of conversational interaction, we can begin to introduce samples of longer stretches of discourse which incorporate the portions which the students have already

305 practiced. These longer stretches of discourse will also have their own corresponding sets

of contextualization cues, expectations, and assumptions, which we may also point out to students through the modeling and practicing process.

The approach that will be advocated generally here is one based on the approach adopted in the teaching of which is to first present a “FACT(ual)” introduction to a set of model conversations (the “Core Conversations,” or CCs), addressing various grammatical, sociolinguistic and pragmatic points in the process. Students are expected to arrive for the first lesson having already viewed the conversation on the accompanying videotape (or soon, the CD-ROM), and also having listened and then practiced the CCs with the audiotape (or CD). A romanized version of the conversation, together with

English equivalents, are provided in the text, but it is stressed that the romanization is only a reference for what students hear on the tape, not a tool for reading (cf. the accompanying text, Japanese: The Written Language).

The Fact session is followed by numerous “ACT(ing)” sessions in which native speakers, as both models and informants, demonstrate and guide students through contextualized performances of the conversations. Students are then given opportunities to observe and practice situated applications of the same or similar conversation in slightly different contexts— for example, with different participants, at different locations, and so forth, presuming that such shifts do not sacrifice authenticity.

For the purpose of illustrating the approach just outlined, let us now consider how we might use portions of the JBTC data we have considered in this study to the teaching of two particularly challenging aspects of Japanese discourse: iiti/soto deixis and the extended predicate (HP) construction.

'^See Quinn’s (1991) in-depth review for more specifics regarding components of the textbook and related activities.

306 7.3.1 Using the opening section of JBTCs to illustrate uti/soto deixis

Among the numerous linguistic and sociocultural features which we have identified as being important to JBTCs, perhaps the most fundamental element is the concept of uti/soto deixis. Particularly for learners whose native language is Indo-

European in origin, moving from an orientation whose zero point is based on the notion of person to one that hinges on the collective uti requires a significant shift in perspective.

While classroom discussions of the ways in which the uti/soto distinction is manifested in Japanese can be somewhat helpful, such discussions are best accompanied by authentic contextualized examples, and followed by opportunities for students to actually practice these models themselves.

We have seen that the structure of JBTCs is divided into five main parts: an opening section, a transition to the discussion of business transaction(s), the discussion itself, a pre-closing section and a closing section. One of the best ways to familiarize students with the uti/soto distinction and these JBTCs might be to present a number of excerpts from a parallel section in several conversations for discussion, modeling and practice. Since the opening section of these calls typically involves numerous polite forms which index the uti/soto distinction, it would seem a natural place to begin. Moreover, the very fact that the opening section initiates a call means that we are presenting a model of discourse in its natural form, rather than using an excerpt taken from the middle of a conversation. In terms of materials preparation, due to the relatively short length of the opening sections as compared to the body of the call, it would a fairly straightforward task to produce a recording of several samples for students to listen to prior to the first introduction of the conversations in class. Finally, the fact that the functional purpose of such exchanges is so essential to daily life in Japan argues for an introduction to these forms at a relatively early point in the students’ study of the language. This exercise could

307 be included, for example, in conjunction with an introduction to the humble and honorific polite forms. It would also nicely follow up on a lesson on self-introductions, for reasons to be explained below.

The opening exchange below in (7-5) is one example we might choose to model first in order to illustrate how speakers use uti/soto deixis in their orientation to each other at the outset of a call:

(7-5) Sample opening exchange (entire text appears in Appendix G)

1 A: Hai, Tookyoo syoten de gozaimasu:. ACK Tokyo bookstore CP-ipf (+)

‘Tokyo Bookstore.’

2 C: A, /hhh/ e:to:, Ee-bii-sii Kyooiku Kyookai to oh HES ABC education association QT

moosimasu keredoMO: be called-ipf (i) but

‘Oh, um, (this is) (the) ABC Educational Association, but...’

3 A: Osewa ni natt- orimasu:.// assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (>l)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Osewasama desu:. helpful person CP-ipf

[‘Thank you for your help.’]

5 C: /hhh/ Yamada-san irassyaimasu ka?// Ms. Yamada be-ipf (T) Q

‘Is Ms. Yamada there?’

**If using JSL, this would be at the beginning of Lesson 8B.

308 6 A: A, watakusi desu ga:. oh I CP-ipf but

‘Oh, it is I, but....’

7 C: A, soo desu ka.// oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

8 A: H ai.// ACK

‘Yes.’

Since students should already be familiar with the procedure of placing a call and requesting to speak with someone in their native language, the ideational content of this passage does not pose much difficulty (with the exception, perhaps, of the business salutation, Osewa ni natte-orimasu). Rather, it is the textual and interpersonal features which may prove challenging for smdents to master. The boldfaced portions of the text therefore highlight points we might take up with students in the Fact portion of instruction, namely the predicates which index both the social distance between the conversation participants (indicated through distal style) and the relative positions of the speaker, addresee and the referent (indicated through polite or plain style). The latter relationship in particular relates to uti/soto deixis.

The first step in introducing this passage to the students would of course be to give them an opportunity to view an enactment of this exchange, perhaps through a demonstration. After the demonstration, there could be a short discussion in English in which the instructor asks the students what essentially took place in the interaction— who the participants were, the name of the person the caller requested to speak with, how the call recipient replied to that request, and so on. Such a discussion would immediately bring up the important issue of group membership, for in trying to identify who the

309 participants are, students will note that the initial self-identifications were not a matter of the speakers providing their names, but rather their company affiliations—in other words, the primary identification for Japanese is as a member of a group, rather than as an individual. This is one of the fundamental ideas which students must grasp in order to understand uti/soto deixis.

The exchange of business salutations between the participants is another aspect of this conversation which may appear unfamiliar to the students. The instructor can explain that the participants do this in order to acknowledge an ongoing business relationship between their organizations; this is thus another way in which the participants can be seen to be talking as representatives of a group, rather than as individuals. It is of course possible that the caller has spoken with the call recipient before, but the purpose of the salutation here is not so much to acknowledge the prior assistance of an individual so much as it is a way of recognizing a connection between the two companies.

In discussing this issue of business salutations, we may also bring up the topic of contextualization cues. When the call recipient replies to the caller’s self-identification with this salutation, she is not only acknowledging the business relationship but also signaling that this is a business call as opposed to a personal call. This has consequences for the way in which the remainder of the interaction will unfold, particularly in terms of the styles which speakers will adopt for their utterances (we will discuss this in more detail below). The fact that the caller reciprocates with a similar salutation indicates that he recognizes the call as being business-related as well.

Following the discussion of what essentially takes place in the interaction, the students may then be given a copy of the transcript. At this point, a more detailed discussion as to how the participants express what it is they are seeking to do in the exchange may take place. Taking the conversation line by line, the instructor can ask

310 questions about who or what is being referred to in each utterance, and in this way help students to understand the notion of referent versus speaker and addressee.

In the first line, for example, the speaker is the call recipient (Ms. Yamada), an employee of Tokyo Bookstore. As call recipient, her first job is to identify the organization (i.e., ‘This is X.’). We have already noted that the primary affiliation for

Japanese speakers, particularly in a business context, is with their group or organization, so the minimal identification here would be /[organization] + predicate/. Just as in the case in self-introductions, there are two choices in terms of how one may predicate this identification. One possibility is to use a form of the copula desu, which functions as a simple identification of the company. Such an identification presumes that the listener will recognize this organization; in line 1, the call recipient can use this form because the caller is already conscious of the fact that he has called Tokyo Bookstore. Because the formality of the business situation calls for careful style utterances which include both distal and polite style, she chooses the neutral polite, distal style form de gozaimasu.

In line 2, the caller replies by providing his own self-identification. In cases in which it is possible that the call recipient may not recognize the name of one’s organization (or, if providing a more specific self-identification, one’s own name) then the preferred predicate form is Ito iimasu! or ho moosimasu!. Both of these mean ‘be called’, but one is a plain form and the other is a humble polite form. In line 2, the speaker has chosen the humble polite form because of the formality of the occasion (a business exchange) and also in order to show respect to his addressee. By adopting a humble polite form, the caller essentially lowers the position of the referent—in this case, himself—vis à vis the addressee.

In line 3, the call recipient also adopts the humble polite form in her own utterance

Osewa ni natt’-orimasu. By providing an alternative gloss for this utterance, we can

311 show students that the implied referent of the utterance is the speaker’s own company:

‘We are obliged for your continued assistance.’ This is the motivation behind the humble polite form.

In line 5, the caller requests to speak with Ms. Yamada. Because she, and not the caller or his company, is the referent of the utterance, the speaker chooses irassyaimasu, which is the honorific polite equivalent of the plain style imasii ‘be’ or ‘exist’. By choosing the honorific for his utterance, the caller exalts or shows deference to the referent. Although we find out in line 6 that the the referent and the addressee are actually the same (Ms. Yamada), the caller does not know this in line 5.‘^

As illustrated in the transcript, we may label the polite-style verbals with symbols in order to provide iconic reminders for students as to the relationship which each particular verbal indexes. Thus, the (+) in line 1 indicates that the caller is adding politeness to her utterance when speaking to the addressee (the call recipient), but the utterance is neutral with respect to in/out-group considerations (hence the name ‘neutral politeness’). In contrast, verbal predicates marked with the symbol (T) indicate honorific forms, which convey exalt the referent, and predicates marked with (i) humble the referent.

After introducing this sample opening exchange, we can share other examples with the students in order to illustrate some of the other possible ways in which self- identifications and requests for a different call recipient may be achieved. The following is one such example:

*^The fact that he does not recognize her voice also suggests that the two are not well acquainted, even though the two companies may have a business relationship.

312 (7-6) Sample opening exchange #2 (= Example 5-8 in Chapter 5)

1 A: Hai, Kansai Unyuu de gozaimasu. ACK Kansai Imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: Kantoo-ginkoo no Kawabe de gozaimasu:. Kanto bank CN Mr. Kawabe CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is (Mr.) Kawabe of Kanto Bank.’

3 A: Itumo osewa ni natte// orimasu:. always assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (.1)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa ni narimasu: assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

5 C: Satoo-san irassyaimasu desyoo ka. Ms. Sato be-ipf (T) CP-ipf-tent Q

‘Would Ms. Sato be in?’

6 A: Hai, omati kudasai. ACK waiting give to in-group (imp) (?)

‘Yes, please wait (a moment).’

7 C: Hai, sumimasen. ACK be sorry-ipf

‘Yes, thank you.’

In this example, several of the forms used by the participants parallel those used in (7-5).

For example, the call recipient identifies her organization in the same fashion, using the pattern /[organization] + de gozaimasu!. Moreover, the speakers exchange similar business salutations in lines 3 and 4. Finally, Mr. Kawabe’s request to speak with Ms.

Sato is similar to the caller’s request in example (7-5), except that he has chosen a more

313 careful style which is typical in business and other formal contexts, in which the distal style, tentative form of the copula, desyoo, is added to the already distal style verbal irassyaimasu.

There are two differences in this exchange that are worth noting in comparison to the previous exchange. The first is the fact that Mr. Kawabe uses the neutral polite form de gozaimasu in his self-identification, and also provides his name. Both of these are clues (contextualization cues) to his relationship with the call recipient and her company, for they anticipate recognition by the addressee. This contrasts with the previous caller’s use of to moosimasu in his self-identification in (7-5). The second difference appears in the exchange of salutations in lines 3 and 4; by using itumo, the call recipient signals that she recognizes the caller’s company as being an organization which her company deals with on a regular basis. It is also possible that she recognizes Mr. Kawabe from previous encounters.

We may also comment on the call recipient’s use of the honorific polite form, omati kudasai, in her request that the caller wait a moment while she connects him to

Ms. Sato. This illustrates another way in which theuti/soto distinction is indexed in

Japanese, which is through the system of giving and receiving verbs. As the word-for- word gloss indicates, kudasai is an imperative form of the verbal which means ‘give to the in-group’. Thus a more literal gloss for the utterance is ‘Please give (us/me) waiting’.

The honorific polite form exalts the referent, who in this case is also the addressee.

Following this Fact introduction, the students may then be given an opportunity to take turns participating in the above exchanges as a role play to reinforce their understanding of the material. Slight changes in the context or the names of participants could be introduced; for example, students could be divided into two groups, such that half belong to one company, and half to another. Each could be given various positions

314 (secretary, section chief, and so on), and then an exchange such as the following could be modeled and practiced:

(7-7) Variation on opening exchange (=Example 5-14 in Chapter 5)

1 A: Kansai Yunyiiu de gozaimasu:. Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: E: Kobe-ginkoo no Rokkoo-siten no Imamura desu GA: HES Kobe bank CN Rokko branch CN Imamura CP-ipf but

‘Um, (this) is Imamura of Kobe Bank’s Rokko branch, but....’

3 A: A, hai, osewa ni narimasu:. oh ACK assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa ni natte ‘masu: assistance GL becoming be-ipf

[‘Thank you for your continued patronage.’]

5 C: E:to: Huziwara- butyoo irassyaimasu desyoo ka. HES Fujiwara department chief be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Um, is department chief Fujiwara (there)?’

This opening exchange is much like that of (7-6), except that (a) the caller uses the plain form of the copula desu in his self-identification, and also identifies the branch name of the bank where he is employed; and (b) the caller refers to the person he wishes to speak with by substituting her title for the polite suffix -san.

7.3.2 Illustrating the extended predicate (EP) construction

After the students have developed a familiarity with the opening exchanges of the sort presented above, it is also possible to extend the contexts slightly in order to illustrate the use of the extended predicate (EP) construction. By contextualizing the use of the EP

315 through examples, the deictic function of no can become more readily apparent to students.

(7-8) Opening exchange (extended to illustrate use of the EP)

1 A: Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu:. Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: E: Kobe-ginkoo no Rokkoo-siten no Imamura desu GA: HES Kobe bank CN Rokko branch CN Imamura CP-ipf but

‘Um, (this) is Imamura of Kobe Bank’s Rokko branch, but....’

3 A: A, hai, osewa ni narimasu:. oh ACK assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

4 C: Osewa ni natte 'masu: assistance GL becoming be-ipf

[‘Thank you for your continued patronage.’]

5 C: E:to: Huziwara- butyoo irassyaimasu desyoo ka. HES Fujiwara department chief be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Um, would department chief Fujiwara be (there)?’

6 A: Sumimasen, imatyotto sekkyaku -tyuu be sorry now a little meeting customers in the middle of

na n desu ga: CP-ipf EP but

‘(I)’m sorry, it’s just that (she)’s busy meeting customers now, but....’

7 C: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

316 8 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

In line 5, Mr. Kawabe has asked to speak with department chief Fujiwara; however, the call recipient indicates in line 6 that she is busy meeting customers. Although it would be grammatically possible for the call recipient to have simply said Ima tyotto sekkyakii- tyuu desu ga... to describe Fujiwara’s whereabouts, by presenting this information in the EP form, the call recipient can essentially say to her addressee, ‘The fact is, she’s busy meeting customers, but....’ The use of no here establishes a connection between the larger discourse situation and the information which no nominalizes, namely the fact that

Fujiwara is busy. The larger discourse situation includes the caller’s request to speak with

Fujiwara, which was mentioned in the prior utterance, as well as the fact that Fujiwara cannot come to the phone (which the caller has not been told explicitly, but can be assumed to know). Let us consider another illustration in a similar context:

(7-9) Opening exchange (extended to illustrate use of the EP)

1 A: Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu:. Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: A, Kobe Unyu desu kedo. oh Kobe Shipping CP-ipf but

Oh, this is Kobe Shipping.’

3A: Itumo osewa ni natt’ orimasu:. always assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (i)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

317 4C: Yamamoto-san, onegai-simasu. Ms. Yamamoto request-ipf ('I)

‘Ms. Yamamoto, please.’

5A: A, Yamamoto, kyoo, oyasumi ita//daite- oh Yamamoto today vacation receive fr out-grp-ger

‘rii n desu kedo. be EP but

‘Oh, it’s that Yamamoto’s on vacation today, but...[can I help you?]’

In the same way that we observed in example (7-8), the EP may be used here to convey the reason that someone is unavailable. By using no to refer deictically to the larger discourse situation (which includes the caller’s request to speak with Yamamoto), the call recipient can anchor the new information about Yamamoto’s whereabouts to that frame and suggest a connection between the two. The ‘it’ in the gloss for the utterance represents the unstated information, namely the fact that Yamamoto cannot come to the phone. Thus an alternative, more literal gloss for the situation might be ‘Oh, [the reason she can’t come to the phone is that] she’s on vacation today.’ The information in brackets is something which the call recipient assumes that the caller can infer from her utterance; it does not need to be stated explicitly.

In the process of introducing these and other similar examples to students, it is also important to point out that the call recipient always appends a conjunctive particle following the EP in these situations. The reason for doing so is to leave the utterance open-ended and provide a space for the caller to respond. The particle can also imply an offer of assistance; the gloss provided in (7-9) indicates one possible interpretation.

318 7.3.3 Questions to consider in identifying JBTCs

While further discussion of related and more complex examples is beyond the scope of this dissertation, the outlines in Figures 7 .1 and 7.2 pose some questions which could be adopted in conjunction with the modeling of JBTCs in the classroom. Figure 7.1 on page 317 highlights the fundamental differences between styles that are based on the relationship between the caller and call recipient (i.e., speaker and addressee), as opposed to those based on the relative positions of speaker, addressee and referent. Figure 7.2 on page 318 summarizes some of the issues which have been addressed in this study but which, when presented in the form of questions, can help students to consider more deeply the textual and interpersonal aspects of the encounters in which they are engaged.

7.4 Conclusions

Our examination of numerous samples of telephone conversations in both business and general purpose Japanese language textbooks suggests that there is a wide variety of models available, but only a limited number that would appear to reflect actual spoken practice, at least as compared to the data collected for this study. This limited survey of a few texts has also indicated that some materials may reveal an ideational bias in their development which, if pushed to the exclusion of the textual and interpersonal aspects of the discourse presented, may prove detrimental to learners.

We have also noted that there may be shifts in actual usage which have not yet been reflected in the materials available on the market. While native speakers gradually assimilate the resulting changes in the language through their interactions with others, second language learners are heavily dependent upon the form and content of the materials which are presented to them. It is therefore essential that texts be updated regularly to incorporate these changes to the degree possible.

319 Identify the STYLE of the conversation:

Consider the relationships among participants (caller and call recipient), as well as the relationship between the speaker, addressee, and the referent(s) in the conversation:

( 1 ) Styles based on the relationship between speaker/addressee (i.e., the caller/call recipient)-^

• distal/direct (or formal/informal)

• gentle/blunt

• masculine/feminine (e.g., choices of sentences particles)

(2) Styles based on the relative positions of the speaker, addressee and the referent-*

• plain/polite

• honorific/humble

(3) Overall (higher-order) style classification based on the particular choices of styles chosen of type ( 1) and ( 2)

• care fill/casual

• masculine/feminine (based on overall number of gentle vs. blunt style elements, in addition to the overall number of masculine vs. feminine elements)

Figure 7 .1 : Identifying style: factors affecting usage

-**Teachers might present these examples first because they illustrate the simplest stylistic relationships students would know; they could then move from this to the more complex styles in (2). -• As illustrated in example (7-5) line 2, the referent can also be the speaker or the organization which the speaker represents; or, as in line 5 of the same conversation, the referent can be the addressee.

320 Identify the conversation in terms of GENRE:

Business V5. personal call?

Consider caller’s goals, together with the overall discourse structure, thematic content, styles, and register features (including manner of caller’s self-introduction).

Caller’s stated or Implied goals? Thematic content? (relates to SUBGENRES)

Discussion or resolution of some aspect of business transaction: • Placing, cancelling, inquiring about status of an order • Reporting details of a service/order-related problem • Planning itineraries, purchasing tickets • Initiating, continuing, completing bank-related business

Overall discourse structure?

Consider the overall structure of JBTCs (presented in Figure 5.1 )

Styles used?

JBTCs tended to occur in careful style with predominantly distal, polite style predicates and few dialectical forms.

Evidence of register features?

Business register features include: —

• Self-identification based on business affiliation /organization/ to moosimasu or /organization/ de gozaimasu

• Business salutation Osewa ni natte-imasu Osewa ni narimasu-^

Figure 7.2: Identifying generic, stylistic, and register features of Japanese telephone conversations

“ Other register features are included in Figure 5.2. ^Teachers might point out that the distinction may not be intentional on the part of the speaker, since the distinction between the two has become increasingly blurred and the two forms in general are overused (that is, used between participants who have no ongoing relationship).

321 Finally, in the last section of this chapter we have proposed an approach to introducing authentic data into the classroom which may also help to demonstrate some of the ways in which theuti/soto distinction is indexed in Japanese, and also illustrate the use of the extended predicate. While the examples of the former have focused primarily on honorific and humble polite verbals, other examples from the data could be introduced which would provide further illustrations of the system of giving and receiving verbs as well. As for the extended predicate, numerous examples of transition sections containing maeoki could be used to illustrate the deictic function of no in much the same way that we have demonstrated here with the opening sections. In either case, by limiting the length of the discourse used for such an exercise to a short exchange (e.g., opening or transition in a business conversation) in which ideational content is minimal but textual and interpersonal meaning are signficant, we can begin to point out to students the larger issues of style, register, and genre in Japanese interactions, and also help to foster an understanding of the ways in which participants develop expectations and intuitions through contextualization cues in the genre of activity in which they are engaged.

322 CHAPTER 8

CONCLUSIONS AND SUGGESTIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH

8.1 Conclusions

At the outset of this investigation, I presented four goals which I hoped to achieve; let us now reconsider those in light of the findings presented herein.

8.1.1 Strategies for reporting problems

First, I asked how service recipients (SRs) report problems to service providers

(SPs). More specifically, I inquired whether (a) SRs initially state the problem and follow that report with an account of the details of the transaction, or if (b) they present the problem in a narrative fashion, recounting the events leading up to the problem chronologically. I also wondered if (c) SRs reported the details of the transaction in any particular order. Finally, I asked (d) to what degree do SRs explicitly mention the problem itself (e.g., ‘The package never arrived,”) and (e) to what degree do they explicitly request assistance. I predicted that the way in which a given interaction would unfold would likely differ depending upon the particulars of the situation, such as the degree to which the participants know each other, the beliefs and expectations of each participant regarding the problem at various points in the interaction, and the relative roles and statuses of the participants.

Perhaps the simplest way to answer the first, most general question of how service recipients report problems is to say 'not directly.’ Based on the examples we have

323 considered over the course of the investigation, we may make the following more specific observations:

In regard to question (a), few SRs appeared to make an explicit reference to the problem at the very outset of the call. Rather, in the initial opening section, the SR would identify him/herself and offer a business salutation if there was an established relationship between the two organizations. Then during a transitional section, the SR would often utter an attention focuser followed by a general statement as to the purpose of the call

{maeoki). These statements ranged from general requests for assistance (e.g., Tyotto osirabe itadakitai n desu ga....) to a general reference to the item(s) to be discussed

(e.g., Kono mae, ano: e:: ohuisu kara okutta, bukku no bun na n desu kedomo....).

Almost without exception, callers presented the maeoki in the EP form, which enabled them to suggest to the listener a connection between the fact that they had called and the information contained in the maeoki itself. In this way the SRs could indirecdy indicate the reason for the calls, and also prepare their listeners for the next step in the conversation.

The type of maeoki that the SRs selected also seemed to be related to the degree of familiarity or knowledge which the SP could be expected to have in regard to the product or service at issue. In cases in which the SP might not be well acquainted with the matter, SRs would often begin with a more general maeoki (such as the first one given above, Tyotto osirabe itadakitai n desu ga....).* Another alternative which SRs adopted in such situations was to take a chronological approach and begin narrating the sequence of events that led to the problem. Thus in the conversation that appears in Appendix G, the caller starts by acknowledging the arrival of some goods {E:to, noo— ano, noohin

'See the conversation in Appendix E, line 6.

324 itadakimasite ne!). This was one case in which the EP was not used in conjunction with a maeoki.

As for conversations in which the SR and SP were in regular contact with each other and the participants were therefore more familiar with the products and services involved, the SR would typically provide a more specific maeoki. In the conversation appearing in Appendix D, for example, when Ms. Yamamoto uses a relative clause to state, 'it's about the books that were sent from the office the other day...’ {Kono mae, ano: e:: ohuisu kara okutta, bukku no bun na n desu kedomo...), she not only explains the reason for her call, but also sends a clue to the SP, Mr. Kaneda, that the new information for him to note is the approximate date of the shipment— kono mae. This is because the remainder of the information—that books were sent from her office— is presented as given information through the relative clause structure of her utterance. In other words, Ms. Yamamoto presumes that Mr. Kaneda is already aware that some books had been sent out. She can make this assumption because she and Mr. Kaneda are in daily contact with each other regarding such shipments.

The second point, relating to question (b), is that generally speaking, SRs seemed to prefer to relate the details of a problem in a chronological fashion, but the length of such accounts varied markedly. In the conversation in Appendix G between a SR from

ABC Educational Association and Ms. Yamada of Tokyo Bookstore, for example, the SR states rather clearly right after hismaeoki that he had received an incorrect shipment. Yet by stating this he has only identified one aspect of the problem; in subsequent lines he actually backs up to describe what exactly it was he ordered in the first place, and only then notes what it was that he received instead. Thus despite a rather early indication that something was amiss, the SR did not explicitly state the complete nature of the problem until he had first provided other significant details about the shipment.

325 There were also some problem reporting sequences in which the SR began with a relatively more general maeoki, and then proceeded to relate the details in a rather lengthy chronological fashion. The example in Appendix E between Ms. Yamada and a male clerk at a book wholesaler in Tokyo is one such case. After announcing that she would like to have the clerk look into something for her (this is the maeoki), Ms. Yamada explains over the course of several lines that on the 27th of April, from the book wholesaler, via a telephone order, she requested four picture books. She then notes that of these four, only three have come in (this is the crux of the problem). Although she explicitly tells the clerk that she would like him to check to see if the fourth book was sent out, he at first misinterprets her query as a request to actually (re)order that book. It thus becomes necessary for Ms. Yamada to state both the problem and her request for assistance a second time. We concluded that the clerk’s misunderstanding probably arose from expectations he had developed through his daily work, which involves taking orders from booksellers such as Ms. Yamada’s company.

In conversations between SRs and SPs who are in regular contact (as in Appendix

D), such explicit, chronological accounts do not seem to be as essential to getting the main details across. Rather, SRs merely conveyed the pertinent details which the SR presumed that the SP would need—dates, routing slip numbers, customer names, and the like.

These were usually reported as fragments, without complete predicates. This has implications for our fourth question (d) about the degree to which a problem might be stated explicitly. Given a cluster of salient cues, such as a dispatch date, mention of home delivery, and a routing slip number, shipping clerks such as Mr. Kaneda whose business it is to arrange for deliveries and take care of incomplete shipments can perceive the problem in a situation before it is stated. Between speakers who are experienced in the

326 genre of JBTCs, and particularly in the subgenres of problem reporting and offering assistance, knowing more about a situation makes it possible to say less.

As for the third question (c), which inquired whether SRs reported the details of the transaction in any particular order, we observed that the first stage of the report almost without exception consisted of a maeoki in which the SR gave a general indication as to when the transaction (as opposed to the problem) occurred and what it involved. The second stage of reporting included more specific details, but the order in which these were mentioned seemed to be dictated by the actual nature of the transaction. Since this varied widely, the order of the details mentioned changed accordingly. However, we did note that key items were often placed in a salient (marked) position syntactically (and, incidentally, were often given additional stress and higher pitch, as in Ms. Yamamoto’s utterance, E:to: MIttu doyOObi ni motte-kite-itadaite ne?). Such strategies served as important contextualization cues which aided the SP in his/her interpretation of the problem.

Finally, we come to the fourth and fifth questions (d and e) as to how explicitly

SRs mentioned the problem itself, and how explicitly they requested assistance. We have already noted that speakers’ familiarity with the JBTC genre and with the more specific subgenres of problem reporting and offering assistance, coupled with specific knowledge about the types of problems that can occur with particular products or services in a particular business, enabled certain SRs to highlight the salient points related to a problem in a way that would be most recognizable to SPs. This in turn made it possible for SPs to perceive that problem prior to its explicit mention by the SR. The converse of this also proved to be true; in cases in which SPs were most familiar with one kind of transaction

(e.g., book ordering), expectations which they had built up through experience about how to behave sometimes prompted them to misunderstand (or unintentionally ignore) the

327 salient contextualization cues which the SR took pains to provide (viz., the conversations in Appendix E and H). This illustrates a phenomenon which Gumperz (1982a: 132) has identified as follows:

When all participants understand and notice the relevant cues, interpretive processes are then taken for granted and tend to go unnoticed. However, when a listener does not react to a cue or is unaware of its function, interpretations may differ and misunderstanding may occur. It is important to note that when this happens and when a difference in interpretation is brought to a participant’s attention, it tends to be seen in attitudinal terms....Miscommunication of this type, in other words, is regarded as a social faux pas and leads to misjudgments of the speaker’s intent; it is not likely to be identified as a mere linguistic error.

One such case of miscommunication was the second example we considered in Chapter 6, in which Ms. Yamamoto, through no fault of her own, was forced to rather baldly state the problem about the transformers in order to elicit some form of assistance from a seemingly inexperienced clerk who was attempting to handle the problem. When given another chance to relate her story to the second clerk, however, Ms. Yamamoto hesitated to make the same (face-threatening) point outright, and instead relied on the perceptiveness of the clerk and his experience with similar situations in the past to ascertain the nature of the problem. Such reliance on the perceptiveness of the interlocutor and a shared understanding of what is done in such situations was also operative in the first example considered in Chapter 6. In neither case did the caller (Ms. Yamamoto) explicitly request assistance from those responding to the call.

If we consider these results from the data together with the discussion of the cultural preference for enryo-sassi communication in Chapter 4, it becomes clear that at least in the business contexts we have considered in this investigation, in which speakers maintain a certain degree of social distance (indexed through distal style predicates) and in which the continuation of the relationship between service provider and service recipient

328 is paramount, the avoidance of explicit statements of problems and requests for assistance

would appear to be the preferred discourse strategy. However, in more casual

circumstances in which, for example, a business relationship is not at stake, speakers

might adopt a more assertive stance. Such a possibility was raised in connection with the

customer’s relatively pushy approach in the textbook example presented in section 7.2.1.

8.1.2 The function and distribution of linguistic forms used to offer

assistance

The second goal I proposed was to ascertain the function and distribution of

linguistic forms which service providers employ when responding to these reports of

problems. I also inquired how the role relationship between the participants, namely SR

and SP, and the relevance of the preceding discourse might be said to motivate the form

of an offer of assistance.

In situations in which SPs sought to offer assistance toward the resolution of a

problem, instances of the l...masyoo ka?/and /..masu no de/ patterns were observed;

indeed, both forms sometimes occurred within the same encounter. The difference in distribution between the forms would seem to be most fundamentally related to the degree of knowledge the speaker had in regard to the problem being reported. SPs appeared to adopt the L.masyoo Aru?/pattern in situations in which they were seeking confirmation from the SR about the proposed service, either because there was insufficient information to judge what sort of behavior would be appropriate (due to an unfamiliarity with the genre or the transaction itself), or because they wished to leave the decision up to the SR as to whether or not they should perform the proposed service. As for the declarative

/..masu no (fe/pattern, through the intra-discourse function of no, SPs used this form to link the information marked with no, in order to associate, refer, or even explain the present discourse situation with that n-marked information. The purpose in doing so was

329 to reassure the SR of the SP’s willingness and intention to perform the service. As such, the pattern was typically used in situations in which the SP already had a reasonably clear idea, based on the previous discourse and/or the SP’s experience with such transactions, as to the nature of the problem being described by the SR.

It has been noted that gerund forms in general enable speakers to conclude an utterance when what is being clarified or expanded upon is judged by the speaker to be accessible information. In the situations we have discussed in which speakers adopted the

I-masu no del pattern, what was being clarified was the speaker’s implicit or explicit offer of assistance.- Thus, in cases in which an SP had first explicitly offered assistance using the/-masyoo ka?i form, an SR who went on to use the l-masu no del pattern did so in order to expand upon (recharacterize) the earlier offer, and thereby reassure the SR of his/her willingness and intention to perform the proposed service (e.g., the conversation in Appendix D). The no in the SP’s utterance of assistance functions to ground the new characterization of the situation in the larger discourse situation, which includes the earlier offer. In this way, the SP can point to the connection between the two and suggest to the

SR that this is something recoverable and sharable.

In other cases (e.g.. Appendix E), a consultative !-masyoo ka?i offer did not precede an offer in the l-masu no de/form. We may surmise that such utterances at once functioned to present an offer implicitly and also to reassure the SR of the SP’s willingness and intention to undertake the service on the SR’s behalf. Usually in these cases the SR had provided sufficient evidence of a need for assistance, either by giving numerous details and/or by explicitly requesting that assistance. Thus, when the SP uses thel-masu no del form in an offer, no anchors the offer deictically in the larger discourse

-In both of these scenarios, it was also noted that the other function of the gerund form of the EP was to leave utterances open-ended and thereby provide the SR with an opportunity to respond.

330 frame, which includes the SR’s explanation of the details (and request for assistance, if

there had been one). In other words, without actually explicitly saying so, the SP can

convey the sense that s/he is aware of the problem, and then reassure the SR of his/her

intention to remedy the situation. In the conversation appearing in Appendix E, for

example, when the clerk at Fukuda Books says De wa itioo den:pyoo-si — hakkoo-si

am ka doo ka: sirabemasii no de, he is essentially saying '(It’s that I’m aware of the

problem,) so in that case I will check to see whether or not there’s an invoice sheet—a

completion sheet.’ In assuring the SR that he would do so, he is also essentially

acknowledging his role as SP in the situation.

8.1.3 Influences of role relationships, genre, and cultural norms on

strategies for reporting problems and offering assistance

The third goal I established for this investigation relates to the first two, and that is to ascertain how these strategies of reporting problems and of offering assistance might be

related to (a) the type of genre in which the exchanges appear, namely business transactional telephone conversations, and (b) larger cultural norms and values. I suggested that the expectations which participants bring to these encounters are likely to be shaped by roles (such as service provider and service recipient) which are established in and definitive of the genre, and that this would have a strong influence on the linguistic means employed by the participants.

This indeed appears to be the case. As we noted in section 8.1.1, what emerged as a preferred strategy in reporting problems was for SRs to provide a general statement regarding the nature of the transaction involved, including a general indication of the time when that transaction was initiated, in the form of a maeoki. Following this statement, further details would be added in a stage-like fashion, with pertinent details (determined by the nature of the transaction) presented in a manner such that their importance could be

331 perceived by the SP (i.e., as contextualization cues). We also noted that the more knowledge and experience which an SR had in his/her role and with respect to a particular product or service, the more skilled the performance of JBTCs. Similarly, the greater the

SP’s familiarity with the transaction, his/her role as SP, and the genre of JBTCs as a whole, the more capable s/he was in handling the presentation made by the SR. In an ideal situation in which SR and SP are well acquainted with their roles and the transactions involved in JBTCs, it would neither be necessary for the SR to explicitly state the problem nor request assistance. In response, the SP would also ideally perceive the nature of the problem and offer and/or reassure the SR of his/her willingness and intention to resolve the problem, or at least take steps toward resolving the problem. This was the situation we observed in the conversation in Appendix D.

We noted in section 8.1.2 that there were two linguistic means by which the SP could offer assistance: the /...masyoo ka?/ /...masu no d e /patterns. In situations in which the SP was either less sure of his/her role or less acquainted with the problem (due to insufficient information from the SR or a general lack of experience in this genre of activity), the SP was more likely to use the /...masyoo ka?/ form, but this could be followed later in the same conversation by the /...masu no dg/pattern once the necessary details had been specified, or once the SR had indicated that s/he did in fact want the SP to undertake the (tentatively) proposed service. Ultimately, it is the latter form which is preferred, since it assures the SR that the problem will soon be resolved. Thus in many cases, among participants familiar with their roles and with the activities of problem reporting and offering assistance within business telephone conversations, there was only one indication that the SP would take care of the matter, and this was expressed through the/-masu no de/ form.

332 Another way of looking at the preferred strategy we have outlined is that these participants seek to avert a possible situation in which the SR would have to threaten the negative face of the SP by going ‘bald on record’ and stating that there had been a service- related problem. We are of course not arguing that this strategy is unique to Japanese; studies of requests in other languages, including English, have suggested that offers are one way of reverting the negative face threats posed by requests. However, our discussion in Chapter 4 has suggested that perceptiveness and consideration of the addressee are highly valued in Japanese conversation and are demonstrated through enryo-sassi, omoiyari, kikubari and other strategies. The behavior we have observed among the conversations collected for this study would seem to lend additional support to this argument.

Certain characteristics of the problem reports and offers of assistance do nevertheless seem to contrast with strategies in languages such as English. For example, the fact that a problem report begins with a very general statement as to the date and nature of the transaction and is followed by a stage-like process through which details of the transaction are mentioned could be different from such reports in English, in which the exact nature of the problem appears to be mentioned earlier in the conversation, prior to the details. Furthermore, the salient contextualization cues which speakers give their listeners in order to help them focus on the important details of the problem report draw on the linguistic resources available in Japanese—for example use of the sentence particle ne! and the addition of the EP and a conjunctive particle following many, if not all stages of the report. In addition, the very fact that the essential information of the report—time of reference, the item in question, the number ordered and so forth—is distributed over a series of phrases ending with phrase or conjunctive particles that are given additional stress and higher pitch, prompting aizuti from the listener, reflects an aspect of Japanese

333 conversational structure which has been demonstrated in other studies as well/ but which

is a very different interaction pattern from that of English.

We have also observed that speakers’ behavior in the context of business

transactional telephone calls makes use of other linguistic and textual elements of Japanese

which are not found in English. The positional coordinates of uti/soto are clearly indexed

in the usage of the honorific and humble polite verbals, as well as in the system of giving

and receiving verbals; these forms are essential to the genre we have been examining in

which speakers generally adopt a careful style of speech. We have also seen that the

extended predicate is an essential element in numerous aspects of these conversations,

including the explanations of people’s whereabouts, the maeoki used in a transition to the

discusssion of business, and the statement of grounded assurance that an SP uses to offer

assistance. Finally, the preference for specifying only what is necessary and not evident

or recoverable from context is evidenced in both the restraint exercised by speakers who

are reporting problems, and by those who are offering to assist in the resolution of those

problems.

8.1.4 Using the data as a potential resource in the classroom

Lastly, in terms of the fourth goal involving language pedagogy, it should be clear

that our pedagogical methods need to better accommodate the types of behavior demonstrated by speakers in this study. At least among the small number of textbooks

which were surveyed, often the conversations which served as models for students contained utterances which were inappropriate for the context given (e.g. Mosimosi?

uttered by a caller in a business conversation). In other cases, little or no information was provided as to whether the conversations were to be considered as personal or business

^See footnote 28 in Chapter 1.

334 calls, with the result that students might overgeneralize their application of these models to

both contexts, when only one might have been appropriate.

It was also notable that most of the conversations appearing in textbooks did not

incorporate such features as aizuti in order to reflect actual patterns of interaction. Even if

constraints of space make it necessary to limit the inclusion of aizuti, it is important that

texts at least address the subject and indicate that speakers often break their utterances into

smaller segments, which the interlocutor responds to with aizuti. To present

conversations in the manner of the conversation discussed in section 7.2.1, in which the

speaker pours all of the essential information into one sentence, is to mislead the student

regarding the nature of Japanese conversation.

We have also suggested some possible ways in which the conversations presented

in this study might be used in the classroom in order to illustrate uti/soto deixis and the

extended predicate. Although these exercises focus on portions of the data such as the

opening exchange, once students have achieved a measure of competence with these

smaller segments, they could gradually be introduced to samples such as the problems

reporting and offering of assistance. Once these have been discussed, modeled and practiced, it would be possible to move on to complete examples of JBTCs.

8.2 Areas for future research

In this section, I would like to suggest some possible areas for future research that would build upon the analysis presented in this investigation. Types of studies which might be useful are (1) surveys of current textbooks to examine the ways in which offers, particularly within business contexts, have been handled; (2) contrastive studies (for example, English and Japanese); and (3) studies comparing the process involved in face- to-face service encounters when reporting problems, as opposed to reporting such

335 problems on the telephone. Since we have already touched on the first in the previous chapter, we will only discuss (2) and (3) here.

8.2.1 Contrastive studies

Among the possible types of contrastive studies which might be conducted, I would suggest (a) analyses of native English speakers’ behavior in parallel contexts to those appearing in this study— for example, an investigation of American customers calling to report a problem they have encountered personally (before the intermediary calls the service provider); (b) analyses of Japanese learners’ behavior in parallel contexts;

(c) studies of non-business service contexts in both Japanese and English; and (d) studies of non-telephone interactions in both Japanese and English.

Although I have not yet collected a sufficient number of reports of problems made by English speakers for a contrastive study of type (a), the following examples may be taken as possible indications as to how such reports of problems might unfold (other variations are of course entirely possible). The first example is taken from the Kansai corpus; a female English speaking customer calls Kansai Imports to report a problem regarding a shipment she had expected to receive that day:

(8-1 ) English problem report from the Kansai corpus

1 A: Hai, Kansai Yunyuu desu:. [‘Kansai Imports.’]

2 C: A, yes, do you speak English?

3 A: Yes.

4 C: Yes, um: someone tried to deliver something today, euh:

5 C: we were home but we didn’t hear the doorbell.

6 A: Right.

7 C: Um, can: an’ I had asked to have them leave it.

336 8 A: Uh-huh// uh-huh.

9 C: Um: but they didn’t.

10 A: Oh, sorry ‘bout that!//

IIC: That’s ok, it was just one box.

12 A: Okay.

13 C: So, how can we have it delivered, then.

14 A: Okay, lemme ask your membership number first?

[remainder omitted]

The opening of the call (lines 1-3) is notably different from the openings we have discussed in the Japanese data; the customer does not provide her name, affiliation, membership number, or any other self-identifying information, but instead launches immediately into an account of what happened. Neither party provides any salutations, either, but this is predictable because the caller is an individual customer rather than an organization that does regular business with Kansai Imports. In line 4, the caller hesitates before beginning her account of the problem, but there is no other indication of transition or preliminaries that might alert the clerk that she is about to make that account (c.f. attention-focusing utterances such as ano desu ne! in Japanese, as well as the use of the

EP, which is another indirect way of leading the listener to the “right” or intended construal of the present situation).

The caller does recount the information about the missed delivery itself in a chronological fashion, as we observed to be the case in the Japanese conversation in

Appendix H, for example. But unlike her Japanese counterparts, the English-speaking caller does not provide any identifying information (such as the type of product she expected to be delivered) which might assist the clerk in remedying the problem.

Moreover, in saying “we were home but we didn’t hear the doorbell” (lines 4-5) and “I

337 had asked to have them leave it” (line 7) “but they didn’t” (line 9), the customer appears to

be indicating rather directly that (a) she is not responsible for the problem, and (b) the

shipper is responsible. The only mitigating part of her account is her hesitation, ‘um,’ at

the beginning of line 9, and her response to the clerk’s apology in line 10. Although such behavior could be considered to be fairly hesitant for an English telephone call, if a learner

were to put these utterances directly into Japanese without modification, they would probably leave an unfavorable impression on the listener (recall our discussion in Chapter

1 of the zenbii ikaga desu ka? utterance by a student playing the role of a waiter in a restaurant).

Finally, we may note that in line 13, the customer is explicitly requesting assistance in order to resolve the problem. While this type of behavior was sometimes observed in the Japanese data (see, for example, line 51 in the conversation in Appendix

G), Japanese customers who did so had already identified themselves in the opening section of the conversation, and had also provided useful details identifying the product in addition to the nature of the problem so that the service provider would be better equipped to resolve the situation when the request for assistance was made."* A careful examination of the conversation in (8-1) above, however, reveals that the English-speaking caller may have even attempted to make the request at an earlier point in the conversation, but changed her mind (note the “Um, can:...” at the beginning of line 7). We might thus conclude that the timing of problem reporting is perhaps different in the two languages, with English speakers being more likely to announce the problem before providing

'’Indeed, in the conversation appearing in Appendix G, the customer re-identifies himself shortly after he begins to report the problem in line 11 and 13. It may be that the need to identify oneself prior to reporting a problem in Japanese is so inherent to the genre of JBTCs that this caller, thinking that he might not have identified himself earlier in the conversation, provides that information here.

338 specific details about their identity, the product that was to be shipped, and so forth.

Further studies in this area would provide useful data to support or refute this hypothesis.

The next two examples of problem reports in English appeared in a manual which describes recommended telephone techniques for customer service personnel. As such, we must note that they may not reflect actual practice. However, as examples of prescriptive attitudes toward proper verbal behavior in English in such contexts, they are included here. The particular section from which they are taken discusses how to handle customer complaints:

(8-2) Simulated example of an English problem report

1 Receptionist: Good morning, Sims Products. May I help you?

2 Caller: May I speak to the president, please?

3 Receptionist: I’m sorry, Mr. Sims is not available right now. Can someone else help you?

4 Caller: I want to talk to him about some trouble I’m having with my toaster.

5 Receptionist: I’m sure Ms. Green, our Appliance Sales Manager, can help you right away. Just a moment and I’ll connect you.

The secretary’s opening in line 1 exhibits similar characteristics (greeting and self- identification) to the Japanese examples we have considered. Note, however, that it also includes an explicit offer of service, ‘May I help you?’ This type of offer was rarely observed in the Japanese data, the exception being one utterance by a customer service representative at the Kanto Bank, who said in one particular conversation not discussed here, Honzitu wa dono yoo ni itasimasu ka? ‘How may [we] help [you] today?’

As was the case in example (8-1) above, the customer does not provide any self- identification, but rather makes an immediate request to speak with someone else. The

339 receptionist’s utterance in line 3, while somewhat parallel to the Japanese examples in that it indicates that the requested person is unavailable, differs in that all of the information is presented in one turn, including the offer to have someone else be of assistance.

Moreover, without any transition or preparation, the caller states the reason for his call rather explicitly in line 4.

Let us consider another example from the customer service manual which is even more extreme in its directness. In this case, the customer has requested to speak with the same ‘Mr. Sims’ about a different problem; the receptionist then attempts to ‘screen’ the call by inquiring about the problem:

(8-3) Simulated example of an English problem report

Receptionist: What sort of problem are you having?

Caller Well, I need to talk to him right away. You people shipped us 3000 of these things, and they don’t fit our product. \ ^ a t ’s more, we only ordered 300.1 want him to know about this kind of efficiency.

Although this type of call is probably not the norm in problem reporting situations (the manual refers to callers such as these as “those ‘I-must-go-to-the-top’ callers’’), the caller’s complaint nonetheless echoes certain characteristics observed in the recorded call in (8-1) above.5 Specifically, there is an explicit placement of blame or responsibility on

^Consider also the following simulated conversation, included in a manual entitled. Effective Telephone Skills (Farrell 1994:48). Farrell suggests that speakers follow this example in order to inquire about an error. Note that the caller (“you”) is advised to be very specific about the problem, identifying it immediately and also explicitly requesting assistance. Farrell later argues that this sort of explicit explanation is necessary because companies typically set up “protective screens” in order to “save their supervisor’s time, obtain information from you, or block your call entirely.” By taking a direct approach, Farrell argues that callers may be more successful in getting through such screens (Farrell 1984:73). Here again, however, we note that this is an example of prescribed, rather than actual, behavior; it reads much like what it is purported to be, i.e. a model for proper telephone etiquette.

“You are asked to call Coventry Computers to inquire about an error on a recent bill. The following conversation takes place:”

340 the service provider (“you people shipped us 3OCX) of these things, and they don’t fit our product”). Moreover, the customer tries to avoid responsibility for the problem by stating,

“we only ordered 300”. As I have argued, this approach differs significantly from that taken by the Japanese callers in the data corpus.® The discourse structure in the two languages varies as well. In both the English example (8-3) and the Japanese conversation

(7-1), which was taken from a textbook that was written for foreigners, the customer maintains the floor for the entire ‘story’. However, in the Japanese examples we have considered, which are all taken from authentic interactions, we saw that the service recipient’s account unfolds over a series of turns, punctuated by back-channel responses from the service provider.

8.2.2 D iscussion

These examples suggest that some English speakers, at least, may adopt different strategies when reporting problems to service providers. Further research of a broader scope is necessary in order to ascertain how representative this type of behavior may be.

You: This is [name] of Monarch Information Systems. We seem to have a problem on our last statement. May I speak to someone in your billing department?

Cov: Thank you for calling. I'll connect you to Mary Ann Barrett, who will help you. [Call is connected]

Cov: Mary Ann Barrett. May I help you?

You: Yes, This is [name] of Monarch Information Systems. Would you check our July statement to see if we were charged twice for the same software package? I believe an error was made.

Cov: If that is the case, I apologize. May I review it and get right back to you?

You: That would be fine. My number is (555) 294-6181. When can I expect to hear from you?

Cov: I’ll get back to you within fifteen minutes. Is that okay?

You: Yes, it is. Thank you.

®In effect, the customer is going ‘bald-on-record’ with his complaint. See Brown and Levinson (1987:68- 9).

341 Aside from the potential difference among Japanese and English speakers in the timing and compositional structure of their problem reports, it is possible that there is a more general difference in terms of the stance adopted by individual customers toward service providers on the one hand, and by service providers to their regular suppliers and shippers on the other. In other words, customers may ‘get to the point’ more readily when calling service providers because (a) they have paid for and expect a service to be rendered, and (b) they may not have a regular relationship with the service provider that might be put in jeopardy by their going ‘bald-on-record.’

Furthermore, a relative lack of regular contact between service recipients of any sort (be they individual customers or larger organizations) and their service providers could merui that a given service provider is less familiar with the details of a particular order and the needs of the service recipient, such that the service recipient would have to be more forthcoming in his/her report of the problem. Indeed, such a trend was evidenced in the Japanese data; in the conversations presented in Appendix E, F, G and H, even though the caller usually acknowledged an ongoing business relationship between the two companies through a salutation (the exception being the caller in Appendix H), the participants in all of these conversations appeared to be less well acquainted with each other. The result in each case was an interaction which did not proceed as smoothly as it might have; in two cases, for example, service providers made incorrect assumptions about the callers’ needs.^

In contrast, in the conversation that appears in Appendix D, the service recipient who was in regular contact with the service provider (her shipper) did not find it necessary to state the problem explicitly, because the shipper, based on prior experience, was able to guess what had happened. Thus, in addition to the preference among

^See the conversation in Appendix E, lines 3 Iff, and the conversation in Appendix F, lines 29ff.

342 Japanese for enryo-sassi communication that was discussed in Chapter 4, the fact that these two speakers had built up a set of expectations and intuitions in regard to their regular business transactions through their mutual experience as service recipient-service provider no doubt contributed to the “short-circuiting” of the problem-reporting that was observed in this conversation.

Many of the problem-reporting calls in the Japanese data corpus were of this type, i.e., follow-up calls made by service providers to shipping companies on behalf of their customers. This might explain the general tendency that was observed among service providers to launch into a chronological recounting of the events and details related to the problem, rather than immediately stating the problem itself.

In addition to the contrastive studies suggested and discussed in this and the previous section, one additional possibility for future research would be to collect samples of face-to-face service encounters involving similar customer service complaints—for example at a package delivery service office— in order to ascertain (a) how speakers interact in such an environment, and (b) how and why participants’ behavior differs, if at all, from that of speakers on the telephone. In this way we can provide models for language learners of the ways in which similar problems are handled through different channels. These encounters could be videotaped for later review and analysis. Permission of the delivery company employees to record their interactions might be obtained in much the same way that permission was obtained for this study, namely by explaining that the data would be used for the purpose of linguistic analysis only. As for the permission of customers walking into such an office, it is possible that one could post a sign requesting customer cooperation in the interest of improving quality satisfaction, in much the same way that customers are often currently requested to accept the recording of customer service-related calls for the same purpose.

343 APPENDIX A

SUBJECTS IN DATA CORPUS 1 (KANSAI)

[All subjects except #7 are native speakers of Japanese]

(1) Female general manager/department head, age 33, bom in Kobe, grew up Higashinada-ku, spent three years in England.

[#2-8 are all operations staff members]

(2) Female, age 32, bom and brought up in Kobe, no time abroad.

(3) Female, age 27-28, bom and brought up in Kobe. Speaks virtually no English.

(4) Female, age 27, bom and brought up in Kobe, spent 1 year in the United States (Hawaii and Washington) at age 25 on a church program.

(5) Female, age 25, bora and brought up in Akashi, spent one year in Vancouver.

(6) Female, age 23, bora in Osaka, brought up in Kobe, spent 1 month homestay in high school, then one year in college, both in Australia.

(7) Female, age 23, bom and brought up in Kobe. Parents are native Chinese but have lived in Kobe for at least as many years. Subject went to a school specifically for Chinese in Japan, but has spent no time in China. Also worked previously for a prominent hotel in Kobe, and underwent fairly rigorous “politeness” training for the job.

(8) Female, approximately age 26, non-native of Kansai, has spent some time in Singapore.

344 APPENDIX B

SUBJECTS IN DATA CORPUS 2 (KANTO)

[All subjects are native speakers of Japanese]

( 1 ) Female sales operations staff member, age 25, native of Tokyo

(2) Male bookstore staff manager, age 25-35, native of Tokyo

(3) (Three) female bookstore staff members, age 22-25

(4) Male editing section head, age 31, native of Tokyo

(5) Male sales section head, age 31, native of Tokyo

(6) Female editing staff member, age 25, native of Yamagata

(7) Female editing staff member, age 26, native of Saitama

345 APPENDIX C

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 1 (KANSAI)

Participants: Caller (C) is Mr. Kawabe, a 24-5 year old employee of the foreign business section of Kanto Bank in Tokyo (but bom in Aichi Prefecture and schooled in Kansai); Call recipient (A) is Ms. Sato, a 27 year old operations staff member of Kansai Imports (bom and raised in Kobe)

Date of call: Week of November 21, 1994

Duration: 28 seconds (22 seconds excluding pause when caller is put on hold)

Summary: Mr. Kawabe calls Kansai Imports, and after identifying himself, asks for Ms. Saito. The call recipient, Ms. Sato, puts him on hold. When she comes back she apologizes, saying that Saito is on another line. Ms. Sato offers to have Saito call back when she is finished. Mr. Kawabe asks that she do so, if that is all right. Ms. Sato indicates that she has understood, Mr. Kawabe apologizes/thanks her, and Ms. Sato assures Kawabe that (Saito) will call once she has finished her call.

1 A: Hai, Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu. ACK Kansai imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: Kantoo-ginkoo no Kawabe de gozaimasu::. Kanto bank CN Kawabe CP-ipf (+)

‘(This) is Kawabe of Kanto Bank.’

3 A: Itumo osewa ni natte - orimasu::. always assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (i-)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

346 4 C: Osewa ni narimasu:. assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

5 C: Saitoo-san irassyaimasu desyoo ka. Ms. Saito be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Is Ms. Saito (there)?’

6 A: Hai, omati kudasai. ACK waiting (T) give to in-group-imp (T)

‘Yes, please wait (a moment).’

7 C: Hai, sumimasen. ACK thank you

‘Thank you.’

[C is put on hold for 6 seconds]

8 A: Mosi mosi:. hello

‘Hello.’

9 C; Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

10 A: A, /hhh/ moosiwake nai n desu keredoMO: oh excuse have-neg EP-ipf but

‘Oh, (I)’m sorry, but it’s that’

11 C: Ee. BC

‘M-hm.’

12 A: tadaima hoka no denwa de hanasi -tyuu just now another CN telephone LC speaking in the middle of

347 no// n desu:. CP-ipf EP

‘it’s that just now (she)’s talking on another line.’

13 C: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

14 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

15 C: £ ;// BC

‘M-hm.’

16 A: Ano:, owari -sidai odenwa sasiagemasyoo ka? HES finishing upon telephone give to out-group-cns (-t) Q

‘Um, shall (we) give you a call back as soon as (she) has finished?’

17 C: Ee, mosi yorosikereba.. Yes if good-prv

‘Yes, if (that) would be all right (with you).’

18 A: Hai, wakarimasita. yes understand-pf

‘Yes, certainly.’

19 C: Hai, sumimasen. ACK I’m sorry

‘Thank you.’

20 A: Hai, owari-sidai sasiagemasu:. Situree itasimasu: ACK finish as soon as give to out-group-ipf (-i) rudeness do-ipf (-t)

‘Yes, as soon as (she)’s finished (she/we’ll) give you (a call). Good-bye.’

348 APPENDIX D

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 2 (KANSAI)

Participants: Caller (C) is Ms. Yamamoto, a 32 year old operations staff member of Kansai Imports (bora and raised in Kobe); Call recipient (Ai) is an unnamed female secretary at Kobe Shipping; Call recipient (A 2) is Mr. Kaneda, a 25 year old male employee of the dispatch section of the same company (a native of Kansai)

Date of call: Tuesday, November 22, 1994

Duration: 1 minute, 30 seconds (50 seconds excluding pause when caller is on hold)

Summary: Ms. Yamamoto calls Kobe Shipping and asks to speak with Mr. Kaneda of the dispatch section. After the call is transferred by a female clerk, Ms. Yamamoto greets Mr. Kaneda and begins to explain that a package of books was sent from the Kansai Imports office on the 16th of November. Mr. Kaneda, who is in regular contact with Ms. Yamamoto regarding such shipments, guesses that the book shipment never arrived at its destination, and Ms. Yamamoto indicates that this indeed seems to be the case. Ms. Yamamoto then gives Mr. Kaneda the invoice number of the missing package. He puts her on hold, then comes back and says on the 21st (the day prior to this phone call), the shipment appears (in his records) to have been completed. Just as Ms. Yamamoto begins to inquire about the signature (on the package), Mr. Kaneda offers to get it for her.

1 A): Kobe Unyu desu. Kobe shipping CP-ipf

‘Kobe Shipping.’

2 C: Kotira, Kansai Yunyuu no Yamamoto desu.// this Kansai imports CN Yamamoto CP-ipf

‘This (is) (Ms.) Yamamoto of Kansai Imports.’

349 3 Ai: Hai, osewa// ni natt’ orimasu:. ACK assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (>t)

[‘Thank you for your continued patronage.’]

4 C: Doo mo, osewa ni natte orimasu:. ACK assistance GL become be-ipf (i)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

5 C: E:to:, hassoo no Kaneda-san, onegai-dekimasu ka? HES dispatch CN Mr. Kaneda request-ipf-pot (i) Q

‘Um, may (I) have (Mr.) Kaneda of (the) dispatch (section)?’

6 Ai: Hai, syoosyoo omati kudasai// ACK a little waiting (T) give to in-group-ipf (T)

‘Yes, please wait a moment.’

7 C: Hai. ACK

‘OK.’

[caller is put on hold for 8 seconds while clerk transfers the call]

8 A]: A, mosi mosi. oh hello

‘Oh, hello?’

9 C: A, mosi mosi?// Kotira, Kansai Yunyuu no Yamamoto desu:. oh hello this Kansai imports CN Yamamoto CP-ipf

‘Oh, hello? This is (Ms.) Yamamoto of Kansai Imports.’

10 Ao: Kawarimasita. change-pf

[‘(I)’ve (ex)changed (with someone else).’]

11 C: Doo mo,// osewa ni narimasu:. ACK assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

350 12 Al: Osewa ni narimasu:. assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

13 C: E:to desu ne? Konomae, ano: e:: ohuisu Icara okutta, HES CP-ipf ATF the other day HES HES office from send-pf

14 C: bukku no bun na n desu kedoMO: book(s) CN portion CP-ipf EP but

‘Um, you know, it’s that (I’m calling about) um, (a) book order (we) sent from (the) office the other day, but...’

15 A2: H ai// BC

‘Mhm.’

16 C: zyuuiti-gatu zyuuroku-niti:// November 16th

‘(on) November 16th’

17 A%: Hai, hai. Yes yes

‘Yes, yes.’

18 C: okutta bun na// n desu GA: send-pf portion CP-ipf EP but

‘it’s that (I’m talking about the) order sent (on that date)’

19 A%: Zyuuiti-gatu desu ka? November CP-ipf Q

‘Is it November?’

20 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

21 Az: Zyuuroku, hai! sixteen ACK

‘(the) 16(th), right!’

351 22 C: Hai. E:: takuhai DE: ACK um residential delivery INST

‘Yes, um, by residential delivery (service).’

23 A2: Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

24 C: e: nanbaa ga iti-ni-san MO: um number SUB one-two-three CN

‘Um, (the) number (is) 123-’

25 A]: Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

26 C: yon-go-roku NO: four-five-six CN

‘456-’

27 A%: Hai. BC

‘Mhm.’

28 C: nana- hati- kyiiu- kyuu. seven- eight- nine- nine

‘7899.’

29 Ai: nana- hati-kyuu-kyuu! seven-eight-nine-nine !

‘7899’

30 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

352 31 A?: Mityaku desu ka? not yet arrived CP-ipf Q

‘Has (it) not yet arrived?’

32 C: (0.3) E:to mityaku rasii// ndesu:. (0.3) HES not yet arrived seems EP

(0.3 second pause) ‘Um, it’s that it seems (it)’s not yet arrived.’

33 A2: M ityaku// not yet arrived

‘not yet arrived.’

34 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

35 Aj. Tyotto matte kudasai//, yo. a little wait-ger give to in-group-ipf (T) SP

‘Wait a minute, OK?’

36 C; Hai. Yes.

‘Yes.’

[caller is put on hold for 32 seconds]

37 Ao: Mosi mosi? hello

‘Hello?’

38 C: A, mosi mosi,// hai! oh hello yes

‘Oh yes, hello!’

39 A%: Sumimasen. be sorry

‘(I)’m sorry (for the wait).’

353 40 A^: E: nizyuu-itiniti desu ne! HES 2 1 St CP-ipf ATF

‘um, (on) the 21st, you see,’

41 C: Hai! BC

‘Mhm!’

42 A2: kanryoo wa nee, dete oru n desu yo. completion TOP ATF show be-ipf (i) EP SP

‘it’s that (we)’re showing completion (of delivery), you know.’ (on the computer)

43 C: Dete ‘masii ka?// show-ger be-ipf Q

‘(It)’s showing up?’

44 A2: D ete ‘masu. show-ger be-ipf

‘(It)’s showing up.’

45 C: Nizyuu-itiniti ni.// 21st on

‘on (the) 21st’

46 A2: Nizyuu-itiniti, hai. 21st yes

‘(on the) 21st, yes.’

47 C; E:to, sain...// wakarimasu ka? HES signature be clear-ipf Q

‘Um, is it clear (whose) signature (was used to accept the delivery)?’

48 A?: Sain torimasyoo ka? signature take-cns Q

‘Shall (I/we) get (the) signature?’

354 49 C: Hai. Onegai dekimasu ka?// Yes beg-ipf-pot (i) Q

‘Yes. Could (I) ask (you to do that)?’

50 A2: Hai, wakarimasita.// ACK become clear-pf

‘Fine, understood.’

51 C: Onegai simasu:.// beg-ipf (i)

[‘Please do so.’]

52 Ai: Kiite okimasu n de: ask-ger do for future use-ipf EP-ger

‘It’s that (I/we)’II ask about (it), so...(don’t worry).’

53 C: Doo mo. Thanks

‘Thanks.’

54 A?: Hai. ACK

‘Sure.’

355 APPENDIX E

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 3 (KANTO)

Participants: Caller (C) is Ms. Yamada, a 25 year old female employee of the Sales department of Tokyo Bookstore (native of Tokyo); Call recipient (A) is an unnamed male employee of Fuloida Books (age and background unknown)

Date of call: Mid-May, 1995

Duration: 1 minute, 53 seconds (1 minute, 37 seconds excluding 16 second pause when caller is put on hold)

Summary: The caller, Ms. Yamada of Tokyo Bookstore calls a book publisher in Tokyo but does not initially identify herself other than saying she (represents) a bookstore. The two exchange salutations, and then Yamada says she’d like the clerk to look into something for her. She explains that on April 27th, she placed a telephone order with their office. More specifically, she indicates that she requested four picture books, but of the four, only three have come in. Yamada begins to ask if the clerk could check to see if the (remaining) one was sent out. The clerk indicates he has understood, and Yamada tells him she is (with) Tokyo Bookstore. The clerk repeats this information, and then Yamada goes on to add that the title of die book which had not arrived of the four (she ordered) was called Hahaha no hanashi. The clerk confirms that it was one copy (that she needs), and asks her to wait a moment. When he returns, he asks for the routing number (in preparation for her order). Yamada indicates that before that (i.e., before ordering another copy) she’d like to confirm whether or not they sent the fourth book out as part of the initial order; he confirms that this is what she wants, and promises to check into it. Then he requests information from her about the agency name and number, assures her that he’ll call back, and asks for her name and telephone number, which she provides.

1 A: Hai, Hukuda syoten hanbai-ka desu:. ACK Fukuda bookstore sales section CP-ipf

‘Yes, Fukuda Books, Sales Section.’

356 2 C: Ano, syoten desii ga,// osewa ni natte- 'masu:. HES bookstore CP-ipf but assistance GL become-ger be-ipf

‘Ah, (this) is a bookstore; [thank you for your continued assistance.]’

3 A: Osewa ni natte- ‘masu:. assistance GL become-ger be-ipf

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Ano desu nee!// HES CP-ipf ATF

‘Well, you see!’

5 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

6 C; tyotto osirabe itadakitai n desu ga,// just looking up (Î) receive from out-grp-des-ipf (i) EP but

‘It’s that (I/we)’d just like to have you look (something) up, but....’

7 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

8 C: e:to: si-gatu nizyuusiti-niti no hi ni, sotira DE, HES April twenty seventh CN day GL that place LOC

‘Um, on the 27th of April, at your location,’

9 C: e:to desu ne, denwa tyuumon na n desu ga, HES CP-ipf ATF telephone order CP-ipf EP but

‘you see, it’s that (I/we mean) a telephone order, but....’

10C: yon-satu hodo,^ eHON o tyuumon four volumes approximately picture books OBJ order

*The word hodo, which indicates approximation in Japanese, can also imply politeness due to its nonspecificity. See Jorden and Noda (1987:128).

357 sasite- itadaita n desu yo. do-cau-ger receive from out-grp-pf EP SP

‘it’s that (I/we) took the liberty of ordering about four picture books, you know.’

11 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

12 C: YON-satu no uti no, SAN-satu sika tyotto haitte- four volumes CN among three volumes only just enter-ger

kit[e]- orimasen// node, come-ger be-neg-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Of the four volumes, it’s Just that only three volumes have come in, so...’

13 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

14 C: is- satii dasite- itadaketa ka// doo ka, one volume send-ger receive from out-grp-pot-pf (i) Q how Q

osirabe— looking up (T)

‘whether or not (you) were able to send us one volume, a look-up...’

15 A: Hai. Kasikomari//ta. [sic] ACK make clear-pf

‘Mhm.’ ‘Cert’nly.’

16 C: ano:, Tookyoo syoten to moosimasu:. HES Tokyo bookstore QT be called-ipf (i)

‘Um, (this is) Tokyo Bookstore.’

17 A: (1.3) A, Tookyoo syoten- sama// de. (1.3) ah Tokyo bookstore M(r)s. CP-ger

(1.3 second pause) ‘Oh, Ms. Tokyo Bookstore...’

358 18 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

19 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

20 C: DE, ano desu nee, taitoni, yot: TU:: no uti no desu NE! and HES CP-ipf ATF title four units CN among CP-ipf ATF

‘And, you see, (the) title, among the four volumes, you know,’

21 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

22 C: Haitte- kite- nai mono ga, "Hahaha no hanasi: ”// enter-ger come-ger be-neg-ipf thing SUB Ha-ha-ha CN tale

‘the one that hasn’t arrived. The Tale of Ha-ha-ha’

23 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

24 C: to iu taitoru no mono na n// desu ga, QT be called-ipf title CN thing CP-ipf EP but

‘it’s that it’s a thing with that title.’

25 A; Go is- satu de. (polite prefix) one volume CP-ger

‘one copy’

26 C: H ai.// ACK

‘Mhm.’

359 27 A: Hai. Syoosyoo omati kudasai:.// ACK moment wait (Î) give to in-grp-imp (T)

‘Mhm. Please wait a moment.’

28 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

[Clerk puts down the phone for a pause of 16 seconds]-

29 A: Omatase des— itasimasita. causing waiting (Î) CP-ipf (FS) do-pf (i)

‘[S—Sorry] to have kept you waiting.’

30 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

3 1 A: Zya, Hahaha no hanasi a is- satu to iu koto de, well ha-ha-ha CN tale OBJ one volume QT be called-ipf thing CP-ger

‘Well, so it’s a matter of one copy of The Tale of Ha-ha-ha. ’

32 C; A, hai:. ah ACK

‘Ah, yes.’

33 A: Zya, bansen onegai-simasu:. well agency number request-ipf (-i)

‘Well then, please (give me) the routing number.’

34 C: A, ano: sono mae HI: ah HES that before GL

‘Oh, um, before that,’

-On the tape of this conversation, the clerk can be heard in the background answering a different phone line. He is thus not actually looking into the problem for the call

360 35 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

36 C: ZENkai tyuumon sita toki ni, ano: ukete- previous order do-pf time GL HES receive-ger

itadakemasen desita n desyoo: ka. receive from out-grp-neg-ipf (

‘at the time of the previous order, um, might it have been that we couldn’t receive it from you?’

37 C: YON-satu tyuumon-sïTE: four volumes order do-ger

‘having placed an order (for) four volumes,’

38 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

39 C: sono uti, Hahaha no hanasi dake haitte- konakatta n desu yo. those among ha-ha-ha CN tale only be included-ger come-neg-pf EP SP

‘it’s that among those, only A Tale of Ha-ha-ha was not included, you know.’

40 A: Haa haa.^ yes yes

‘Yes, yes.’

41 C: De dasite- itadaketa ka doo ka, and send-ger receive from out-grp-pot-pf (i) Q how Q

osirabe itadakitakatta n// desu ga. looking up (Î) receive from out-grp-des-pf EP but

‘And whether or not (you) were able to send it for us, it’s that (I/we) wanted to have you look into it, but....’

^Haa is a more formal equivalent of hai. and may be used as an acknowledgement or affirmative reply. Although it sounds much like the ha of Ha-ha-ha no hanasi, there is no semantic connection.

361 42 A: A, kakunin de:su ne? ah confirmation CP-ipf SP

‘Oh, you mean confirmation, right?’

43 C: HaL ACK

‘Mhm.’

44 A: [0.3 second pause]

45 C: Sore de, dasite- nai yoo desitaRA:// and then send-ger be-neg-ipf seem CP-cnd

‘And then, if it seems that it hasn’t been sent,’

46 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

47 C: moo it- tuu tyuumon itasimasu no DE:// more one copy order do-ipf ('I) EP-ger

‘it’s that (I/we)’11 order one more copy, so....’

48 A: Hai. De wa itioo den:pyoo-si — hakkoo- si aru ACK well anyhow invoice sheet (FS) completion sheet have-ipf

ka doo ka:,// Q how Q

‘Yes. Well anyhow, whether or not there’s an invoice sheet—a completion sheet,’

49 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

50 A: sirabemasu no// DE: look into-ipf EP-ger

‘it’s that (I/we)’11 look into it, so....’

362 51 C: Hai, si-gatu nizyuusiti-niti ni tyuumon itasimasita. ACK April twenty-seventh GL order do-pf (i)

‘OK, (I/we) placed the order on April 27th.’

52 A: Si-gatu no nizyuu::? April CN twenty

‘April twenty— ?’

53 C: nana-niti// desu. seventh CP-ipf

‘Seventh.’

54 A: Nana. seven

‘seven.’

55 C: H ai.// ACK

‘Mhm.’

56 A: Hai. (1.0) De, ano bansen to otori-tugi:// ACK (1.0 second pause) and HES agency number and agency

sosite basyo. then place

‘Mhm. (1.0 second pause) And um, the agency number and the agency, then the place.’

57 C: A, e:to de: Suzuki- syoten DE:// ah HES and Suzuki bookstore CP-ger

‘Ah, um, and it being Suzuki Bookstore.’

58 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

59 C: Hai, # no M#. ACK # CN ###

‘Mhm. ###-#.’

363 60 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm,’

6 1 C: Hai, koodo ga HMif desu. ACK code SUB #### CP-ipf

‘Mhm.’

62 A: ####. [repeats number] ####

‘# # # # .’

63 C: Hai, NO:, Chiyoda-ku Toofcyo syoten de gozaimasu: ACK CN Chiyoda ward Tokyo bookstore CP-ipf (+)

‘Mhm, of Tokyo Bookstore, in Chiyoda Ward.’

64 A: (3.3) Ha:i. Izyoo de: (3.3 second pause) ACK all CP-ger

(3.3 second pause) ‘M-hm. That’s all...’

65 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

66 A: Hai. E: de wa, ka—kakunin simasite:, ACK HES well con—confirmation do-ger

odenwa sasite- itadakimasu no de,// telephone do-cau-ger receive from out-grp-ipf (\L) EP-ger

‘Mhm. Um, well, having con—confirmed (the delivery), (I/we)’11 take the liberty of calling (you) back, so....’

67 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

68 A: odenwabangoo to// onamae onegai-simasu:. telephone number and name request-ipf (i)

‘Your telephone number and name, please.’

364 69 C: Hai. E: ACK HES ####

‘Mhm.’ ‘Um, ####,’

70 A; 7/a/. ACK

‘Mhm.’

71 C: mm. mm

‘# # # # ’

72 A; 7/a/;. ACK

‘Mhm.’

73 C: no watakusi, Yamada ta moosimasu no de. CN I Yamada QT be called-ipf («t) EP-ger

‘and I, I’m called Yamada, so....’

74 A: Hai, kasikomasita. [sic] ACK make clear-pf

‘Mhm. Understood.’

75 C: Hai, yorosiku// onegai-simasu:: ACK well request-ipf (X)

‘Mhm. Please [take care of it for me].’

76 A: Hai, yorosiku onegai-simasu:. Situree simaSU:. ACK well request-ipf (i) rudeness do-ipf

‘Mhm. [May things go well.] Good-bye.’

365 APPENDIX F

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 4 (KANSAI)

Participants: Caller (C) is Ms. Sasaki, a 25 year old operations staff member of Kansai Imports (bom and raised in Akashi, near Kobe); Call recipient (A) is Ms. lida, a female customer service employee of Worldwide Bank in Osaka (age and background unbiown)

Date of call: Tuesday, November 29 or Wednesday, November 30, 1994

Duration: 2 minutes, 16 seconds (2 minutes and 2 seconds excluding 14 second pause when caller is put on hold)

Summary: Ms. Sasaki calls Worldwide Bank and reaches their automated pushbutton menu. She selects the Japanese language (rather than English) option, and then pushes number 9 for customer service. A computerized voice promises to connect her. After a brief pause, a female clerk introduces herself as lida, the person in charge {tantod), and asks Sasaki for the number and name on the account. Then lida thanks her and Sasaki extends a salutation (which is not reciprocated). Next lida requests the PIN number for the account. After thanking Sasaki for this and asking her to wait a moment, lida offers to give Sasaki the current account balance. Sasaki apologizes and explains that’s not what she wants, but rather she wants to ask about the torihiki hookokiisyo, or report of withdrawals, lida offers to assist her, so Sasaki explains that she wants to have the bank look into the contact address, telephone number (etc.) of a customer from whom Kansai Imports got a wire transfer, but whose name doesn’t appear on their list. lida confirms what information is being requested, indicates she has understood, and promises to give Sasaki a return telephone call. Sasaki asks that she do so, and lida requests her telephone number. Sasaki provides it, as well as her name; lida repeats each in turn. Finally, lida indicates she has understood, repeats her own name, and the two formally take their leave of each other.

1 A: Kotira wa, pin pan bankingu de gozaimasu. this TOP pushbutton banking CP-ipf (+)

‘This is pushbutton banking.’

366 2 A: Nihongo gokiboo no kata wa, kono mama, Japanese wish CN person(s) TOP as is

iti osite kudasai. one push-ger give to in-grp-imp (T)

‘Persons wishing (to hear) Japanese, please push one (and remain) as is (on the line).’

3 A: [different voice] “For services in English, please press “2” now.” [Machine BEEP]

4 C: [caller pushes button, another BEEP]

5 A: Gaikoku kawase reeto, oyobi, kinri no syookai wa, iti. foreign exchange rate(s) as well as interest rate CN inquiries TOP one

‘For foreign exchange rates, as well as inquiries about interest rates, (press) one.’

6 A: Kooza zandaka no syookai wa ni. account balance CN inquiries TOP two

‘For account balance inquiries, (press) two.’

7 A: Suiipaamaneii torihiki wa san. Huakusimirii saabisu wa, yon. Supermoney transactions TOP three facsimile service TOP four

‘For Supermoney (account) transactions, three. For facsimile service, four.’

8 A: Kasutomaa saabisu sutahu to, tyokusetu customer service staff with directly

ohanasi ninaritai kata wa, speak-des (T) person(s) TOP

‘For persons wishing to speak directly with customer service staff,’

9 A: kyuu-goo osite kudasai. nine number push-ger give to in-group-imp (T)

‘please push number 9.’

10 C: [pushes button, BEEP sound]

11 A: Omati kudasai. Otunagi simasu. waiting(T) give to in-group-imp (t) connect-ipf (i)

‘Please wait. (I/we) will connect (you).’

367 [Customer is put on hold for 14 seconds]

12 A: Taihen nagaraku omatase site orimasu, quite lengthy waiting-caus do-ger be-ipf (i)

tantoo lida desu:. person in charge lida CP-ipf

‘(I/we)’ve kept (you) waiting a long time. (I)’m (Ms.) lida, person in charge.’

13 A: Omati desitara, kooza bangoo kara, onegai itasimasu. holding (?) CP-cnd account number from beg-ipf (?)

‘If (you) have (it), please (begin) from (your) account number.’

14 C: A, hai, e:to kooza bangoo GA, Oh yes um account number SUB

‘Oh yes, um, (the) account number is”

15 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

16 C: ####.

[first four digits of the number]

17 A: Hai. [sound of keyboard in background as she inputs number] ACK

‘Mhm.’

18 C: ###.

[last three digits of the number]

19 A: Hai. Onamae itadakemasu ka? ACK name receive-ipf-pot (?) Q

‘Mhm. May (I) have your name?’

20 C: Yuugen-gaisya Kansai Yunyuu to moosimasu:. Company, Inc. Kansai Imports QT be called-ipf (?)

‘This is Kansai Imports Company, Inc.’

368 21 A; Arigatoo gozaimasu:.// thank you (+)

‘Thank you.’

22 C: Osewa ni narimasu: assistance GL become-ipf

[‘(I) will become obliged (to you) for your assistance.’]

23 A; Hai, yonketa no denwa torihiki-yoo ACK four-digit CN telephone transactional use

ansyoobangoo itadakemasu ka:? PIN number receive-ipf-pot (i) Q

‘May (I) have your four-digit PIN number for telephone transactions?’

24 C: Hai, M##. ACK

‘Yes.’ [provides number]

25 A: [noise of typing] Ha:i. Arigatoo gozaimasu: Syoo syoo omati ACK thank you (+) a moment waiting (T)

itadakemasu ka: ? receive-ipf-pot Q

‘Ye-es, thank you. Could you wait one moment, please?’

26 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

27 A: Omatase simasita. Kansai-Yunyuu-sama. wait-pf-caus (i) Ms. Kansai Imports

‘(Thank you for) waiting. Ms. Kansai Imports.’

28 C: Hai! ACK

‘Yes!’

369 29 A: Genzai no zandaka de yo rasii desu ka?// current CN balance CP-ger fine CP-ipf Q

‘Is it all right (to give you) the current balance?’

30 C; A, gomen nasai, ano: soo zya nakute:, oh excuse me HES that CP-neg-ger

‘Oh, excuse me, um, not that,’

31 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

32 C: ano:, otorihiki hookokusho tte arimasu yo ne! HES transaction report form QT exist-ipf SP ATF

‘Um, there’s (the thing) called (a) transaction report form, right?’

33 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

34 C: Sono ken de oukagai sitai n desu keredomo.// that matter CP-ger ask-ipf-des (i) EP but

‘It’s that (I)’d like to ask about that matter, but....’

35 A: Hai. Ouke itasimasu no de. ACK take-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Yes, it’s that (I)’ll handle (it), so....’

36 C: Hai, e:to zyuuiti-gatu nizyuuyokka-zuke de ACK HES November 24th dated CP-ger

kite -ru bun na n desu keredoMO: come-ipf-ger be-ipf (->) portion CP-ipf EP but

‘Yes, um, it’s that it concerns the one that’s arrived which is dated November 24th, but...’

370 37 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

38 C: sono naka NI:, e:to, Misutaa Gureggu Sumisu-san those among LOC HES Mr. Greg Smith Mr.

‘among those, um, Mr. Greg Smith’

39 A: Hai hai. ACK ACK

‘Mhm, mhm.’

40 C: tte iu kata kara, ohurikomi ga atta n desu ga QT be-called (-^) person from wire transfer SUB exist-pf CP but

‘from a person of that name, it’s that there was a wire transfer, but’

41 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

42 C: tyotto, watasi-domo no, ano: meeboo no naka ni, kono kata ga just we CN HES name list CN in LOC this person SUB

miataranai no de be found-neg-ipf EP-ger

‘it’s just that, um, on our name list, this person can’t be found, so...’

43 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

44 C: ano: gorenraku-saki o sirabete- itadakitai: n desu ga. HES contact information OBJ look for-ger receive-ipf-des (i-) EP but

‘it’s that (I/we)’d like to have (you) look up the contact information, but’

45 A: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

371 46 C: HaL ACK

‘Yes.’

47 A: Kotira no kata no: this CN person CN

‘This person’s...’

48 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

49 A: ano: HES

‘Um.’

50 C: Denwabangoo desu to ka, telephone number CP-ipf etc.

‘(The) telephone number and so forth.’

51 A: Denwabangoo desu ... kono Sumisu-sama ni kansite desu ne? telephone number CP-ipf this Mr. Smith GL regarding CP-ipf ATF

‘(The) telephone number....for this Mr. Smith, right?’

52 C: Soo desu. so CP-ipf

‘That’s right.’

53 A: Hai, wakarimasita. ACK become clear-pf

‘I see.’

54 C; Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

372 55 A: E:to sore de wa, orikaesi odenwa sasite itadakimasu no de, HES then return telephone call do-caus-ger receive-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Um, then, it’s that (I/we)’II take the liberty of giving (you) a return call, so....’

56 C: Hai. Yorosiku onegai itasimasu:. ACK well beg-ipf («I)

‘Please [take care of it for me].’

57 A: Odenwabangoo o itadakemasu ka? telephone number OBJ receive-ipf-pot Q

‘May (I/we) have your telephone number?’

58 C: Hai, e:to ### ACK um

‘Yes, um [gives area code]

59 A: ###

[clerk repeats numbers]

60 C: ###

[customer gives the three digit exchange number]

61 A: ###

[clerk repeats numbers]

62 C: ####

[customer gives the last four numbers]

63 A: ####desu ne? CP-ipf SP

[clerk repeats numbers] ‘right?’

64 C: Hai. Sasaki to moosimasu. ACK Sasaki QT be called-ipf (1)

‘Yes, I’m Sasaki.’

373 65 A: Sasaki-sama. Ms. Sasaki

‘Ms. Sasaki.’

66 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

67 A: Kasikomarimasita. lida to moosimasita. understand-pf lida QT be called-pf (i)

‘Understood. (This) was lida.’

68 C: Hai, yorosiku onegai simasu. ACK well beg-ipf (i)

‘May things go well.’

69 A: Hai, arigatoo gozaimasu:. ACK thank you

‘Thank you.’

70 C: Hai, situree simasu. ACK excuse me

‘Good-bye.’

374 APPENDIX G

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 5 (KANTO)

Participants: Caller (C) is a male employee of ABC Educational Association in Yamagata Prefecture (age and background unknown); Call recipient (A) is Ms. Yamada, a 25 year old female employee of the Sales department of Tokyo Bookstore (native of Tokyo)

Date of call: May 22, 1995

Duration: 1 minute, 12 seconds (excluding section that has been deleted)

Summary: The caller identifies himself as the ABC Educational Association (no personal name is given) and exchanges salutations with the call recipient. He then asks if Ms. Yamada is in; the call recipient responds that she is Yamada. The caller then begins an explanation, but stops and re- identifies himself. After a second round of identical salutations, he resumes the explanation, noting that he received some goods the other day which contained some incorrect items. Ms. Yamada requests that he wait a moment, so that she may bring up a list (on her computer). The caller then continues, noting that the book entitled “New Basic Japanese,” volume two of the main text, in mixed kana/kanzi script is what he ordered. However, two of the fourteen copies he received are the romanized editions. Ms. Yamada apologizes for the mistake, and then the caller indicates that he’d like to exchange the books. Ms. Yamada assures him that they will do this right away, and also assures him that he may return the romanized editions by COD. The caller then indicates he would like, in addition, to place an order (this portion has been deleted from the transcript below for brevity’s s^ e ). Finally, Ms. Yamada says that she has understood his order, and assures him that they will send it out today. The caller requests that she do so; Ms. Yamada apologizes for the earlier problem, and says goodbye.

1 A: Hai, Tookyoo syoten de gozaimasu: ACK Tokyo bookstore CP-ipf (+)

‘Tokyo Bookstore.’

375 2 C: A, /hhh/ e:to:, Ee-bii-sii Kyooiku Kyookai to oh HES ABC education association QT

moosimasu keredoMO: be called-ipf (i) but

‘Oh, urn, (this is) (the) ABC Educational Association, but...’

3 A; Osewa ni natt- orimasu:.// assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (i)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

4 C: Osewasama desii:. helpful person CP-ipf

[‘Thank you for your help.’]

5 C: /hhh/ Yamada-san irassyaimasu ka?// Ms. Yamada be-ipf (Î) Q

‘Is Ms. Yamada there?’

6 A: A, watakusi desu ga:. oh I CP-ipf but

‘Oh, it is I, but....’

7 C: A, SCO desu ka.// oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that so.’

8 A: H ai.// ACK

‘Yes.’

9 C; E:to desu ne!// HES CP-ipf ATE

‘Um, you see...”

10 A: H ai!// yes

‘Yes.’

376 11 C: Senzitu:—u:// other day

‘the other da-ay’

12 A: E e // ACK

‘Mhm.’

13 C: Ee-bii-sii Kyooiku Kyookai/// na n desu keredomo. ABC education association CP-ipf EP but

‘It’s that it’s the ABC Educational Association, but....’

14 A: Osewa ni natte- orimasu:. assistance GL become-ger be-ipf (X)

[‘Thank you for your continued assistance.’]

15 C: Osewasama desu:. helpful person CP-ipf

[‘Thank you for your help.’]

16 C: /hhh/ E:to, noo— ano, noohin itadakimasite ne! HES deliv— HES delivered goods receive from in-grp ATE

‘/hhh/ Um, deliv-ah, having received some delivered goods, you see,’

17 A: Ee ee ee. ACK ACK ACK

‘Mhm, mhm, mhm.’

18 C: Sore de::// then

‘Then,’

19 A: H ai!// ACK

‘Mhm.’

377 20 C: ma— naiyoo ga desu ne! wel- contents SUB CP-ipf ATF

‘Wel-the contents, you see,’

21 A: Hai! ACK

‘Mhm.’

22 C: tyotto, matigatt- okurat:te- kita mono ga just mistake-ger be sent-ger come-pf things SUB

am mon//desu kara, have-ipf CP-ipf so

‘it’s just that there are some things that have been sent by mistake, so’

23 A: E? A soo desu ka! m oh really CP Q

‘What? Is that so!’

24 C: E e.// yes

‘Yes.’

25 A: H ai.// ACK

‘Mhm.

26 C: E:to desu nee.// HES CP-ipf ATF

‘Um, you see...’

27 A: E— tyo:tto matte kudasai, ne? HES just wait-ger give to out-group-imp ft) SP

‘Um, just wait a moment please, OK?’

28 A: Risuto ima odasi simasu// no DE: list now bring up/out EP-ger

‘I’ll bring up the list now, so....’

378 29 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

30 A: Gomen-nasai. ( 1.5) Hai, sumimasen, doozo:! excuse me ( 1.5 sec pause) ACK be sorry please

‘Excuse me. (1.5 second pause) OK, (I)’m sorry, please (go ahead).’

31 C: E:tto nee. HES ATF

‘Um, you see,’

32 A: H ai.// ACK

‘Mhm.

33 C: Ano, Shin Nihongo no kiso no ni-i desu nee! HES new Japanese CN foundation CN volume 2 CP-ipf ATF

‘Um, you know New Basic Japanese, volume 2,’

34 A; Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.

35 C: ni-i no hon-satii DE: volume 2 CN main text CP-ger

‘volume 2 of the main text’

36 A: Hai.// ACK

‘Mhm.’

37 C: E: kanzi-kana maziri// ban— de: HES kanji-kana mixed edition CP-ger

‘um, it being the mixed-script kanji/kana edition,’

379 38 A: Hai, hai. ACK ACK

‘Mhm, mhm.

39 C: tyuumon sita n desita kedoMO: order do-pf EP-pf but

‘it was that (Fwe) placed an order, but’

40 A: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

41 C: Sono naka no ne, zyuu-yon- satii uti NO, that among CN ATF fourteen volumes among CN

‘you see among those, of the fourteen copies,’

42 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

43 C: ni- satu ga nee, two volumes SUB ATF

‘two copies, you see’

44 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

45 C: roomazi- ban no yatu ga haitte- n desu yo.// romanized edition CN thing SUB be inside-ger EP SP

‘it’s that romanized ones are included, you know.’

46 A: A, roomazi- ban desu ka!///hhh/A, taihen//situree itasima.'sita. oh romanized edition CP-ipf Q oh very rudeness do-pf ('I)

‘Oh, the romanzied edition? Oh, I’m very sorry!’

380 47 C: Ee. Ee. ACK ACK

‘Mhm.’ ‘Mhm.’

48 A: H ai.// ACK

‘Mhm.’

49 C: Desu kara sore desu ne! therefore that CP-ipf ATF

‘So those, you see,’

50 A: H ai.// ACK

‘Mhm.’

51 C; maa, kookan: a: site// itadakitai n desu keredoMO: well exchange HES do-ger receive from out-grp-ipf-des(i) EP but

‘well, it’s that (I/we)’d like to have (you) exchange it, but....’

52 A: Hai, sugu sasite- itadakima//su no DE: yes immediately do-cau-ger receive from out-grp-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Yes, (I/we)’11 (take the liberty of doing so) immediately, so....’

53 C: Ee. ACK

‘Mhm.’

54 A: De, roomazi- ban no hoo \va tyaku-barai de and romanized edition CN alternative TOP COD CP-ger

kekkoo desu no DE:// fine CP-ipf EP-ger

‘and as for the romanized versions, it’s fine as COD, so,’

55 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

381 56 A; ano watakusi-ate ni okutte- itadakemasu// ka? HES me addressed GL send-ger receive from out-grp-ipf-pot (-1) Q

‘um, could you send it addressed to me?’

57 C: Soo desu ne, hai. so CP-ipf SP yes

‘Oh that’s right, yes.’

58 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

59 C: Ato desu ne! remaining CP-ipf ATF

‘And then, you see,’

60 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

61 C: E: maa, aratama—, ano:, tuide ni: desu kedomo: HES well new— HES addition GL CP-ipf but

‘um, well, a new, um, it’s in addition, but’

62 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

63 C: tyuumon:// itasimasu no DE, order do-ipf ('I) EP-ger

‘(I/we)’11 place an order, so....’

64 A: A, tuika to iu koto de, hai.// oh addition QT say-ipf thing CP-ger yes

‘Oh, something in addition, yes.’

382 65 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

66 A: Nan desyoo. what CP-tent

‘What would (that) be.’

(The two go on to discuss the order; this part has been deleted)

67 A; Hai, kasikomarimasita. De honzitu ookuri-sasite// yes understand-pf and today send-ger-cau (i)

itadakiMAsu no de, receive from out-grp-ipf (i) EP-ger

‘Yes, certainly. And today (we/l)’ll take the liberty of sending you (the order), so....’

68 C: Hai, zyaa, onegai/Asimasu:. yes well then request-ipf (i)

‘Yes, well then, please do so.’

69 A; gomeiwaku o okake-simasita. trouble OBJ place-pf (4-)

‘(lyWe)’ve caused you much trouble.’

70 A: Doomo sumimasen, situree itasimassu. very sorry rudeness do-ipf (i)

‘(I/We) are very sorry. Goodbye.

71 C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

383 APPENDIX H

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 6 (KANSAI)

Participants: Caller (C) is Ms. Yamamoto, a 32 year old operations staff member of Kansai Imports (bom and raised in Kobe); Call recipient (A) is a young female clerk of Master Electric in Osaka; Call recipient (A) is Mr. Hashimoto of the same company

Date of call: Friday, December 9, 1994

Duration: 2 minutes, 15 seconds (1 minute 23 seconds excluding pauses when caller is put on hold)

Summary: Ms. Yamamoto calls Master Electric and encounters some difficulties in conveying her company’s name. She then tells the female clerk that after having ordered some transformers the other day, three were delivered on Saturday, but the other two, although they were supposed to have been delivered, did not arrive. The clerk asks her to wait a moment; then a male clerk picks up the phone. Ms. Yamamoto reiterates her company name and identifies herself. She also repeats the story about the transformers with some revisions, pointing out that they ordered five and were told at first that five would be delivered. The male clerk, who appears to have heard some of the details from the female clerk who first took the call, confirms that (in fact) only three transformers were received. Ms. Yamamoto acknowledges this, and goes on to add that they were told the remaining two would come on Thursday. The male clerk indicates he will look into the matter, and puts her on hold. Upon his return, he offers to check into it (further) and asks if he may call her back. He also confirms that Ms. Yamamoto still needs two, and she says that if possible, they would like to receive three. The clerk then confirms the model number and watttage of the transformers she has requested, and reiterates that three are needed (the remaining two, plus one additional one). Despite the clerk’s earlier offer to call back, Ms. Yamamoto then requests a return call, and the clerk assures her that he will do so after looking into the matter. After an indirect prompting by Ms. Yamamoto, the clerk also indicates his name (Hashimoto). The two then take their leave of each other.

384 1 Ai: Mosi mosi, [Masutaa Denki] desu. [said very quietly] hello [Master Electric] CP-ipf

‘Hello, (this) is [Master Electric].

2 C: A, mosi mosi? oh hello

‘Oh, hello?’

3 Ai: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

4 C; Et:to: sotira wa: Masutaa Denki desyoo ka. HES that side TOP Master Electric CP-tent Q

‘Um, would this be Master Electric?’

5Ai: Hai, soo desu:. ACK so CP-ipf

‘Yes, (that)’s right.’

6 C; A, /hhh/ ano desu nee! oh HES CP-ipf ATF

‘Oh, /hhh/ well you see,’

7 C: Et:to: kotira [Kansai Yunyuu] to iimasu keredoMO:, HES this side Kansai imports QT be called-ipf but

‘Um, this is Kansai Imports but.’

8 All Kansai Unyu? Kansai shipping

‘Kansai Shipping?’ [mispronounces one syllable of A’s company name]

9 C: Kansai Yunyuu. Kansai imports.

‘Kansai Imports.’

10 Ai: Kansai Yunyuu. Kansai imports

‘Kansai Imports.’

385 IIC: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

12 A] : Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

13 C: Ano: kon’aida toransuhuoomaa O: HES other day transformer OBJ

‘Um, (the) other day, a transformer

14 A[: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

15 C: ano: tyuumon site- ta ndesu GA: HES order make-ger be-pf EP but

‘Um, (it)’s that (we) ordered it, but...’

16 A[: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

17 C: E:to: Mlttu doyOObi ni motte-kite- itadaite ne? HES three Saturday on bring-ger receive from out-group-ger (i) ATF

‘Um, (we) had (you) bring three on Saturday, you see?’

18 Ai: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

19 C: De: nokori no hutatu o, e: kinoo then remainder CN two OBJ HES yesterday

motte-kuRU tte iwarete- ta n desu keDO: bring-ipf QT be told-ger be-pf EP but

‘(It)’s that (we)’d been told that the remaining two, um, (you)’d bring (them), but...’

386 20 Ai: Hai. ACK.

‘Yes.’

21 C: konakatta n desu kedo. come-neg-pf EP but

‘(they) didn’t corne, but....’

22 Al: A, tyotto omati kudasai. oh litttle waiting give to in-group (T)

‘Oh, please wait a moment.’

23 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

[caller is put on hold for 37 seconds while the call recipient gets a colleague]

24 A%: Mosi mosi? hello

‘Hello?’

25 C: A, mosi mosi? oh hello?

‘Hello?’

26 A2: A doomo, odenwa kawari/Zmasita. oh thanks telephone change-pf

‘Oh thank you (for waiting).’

27 C: A doomo, kotira Kansai Yunyuu no Yamamoto to moosimasu GA: oh thanks this side Kansai imports CN Yamamoto QT be called-ipf but

‘Oh, thank you. This is (Ms.) Yamamoto of Kansai Imports, but...

28 A 2: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

387 29 C: /hhh/ Ano: kono aida toransuhuoomaa O: hhh HES other day transformer OBJ

‘/hhh/ Uh, the other day,’

30 A%: (0.3 second pause)

31 C: oodaa sita ndesu keredoMO: order do-pf EP but

‘(It)’s that (we) ordered transformers, but...’

32 Ai: Hai. (1.0) ACK ( 1 second pause)

‘Mhm.’ (1 second pause)

33 C: E: doyoobi ni:, mittu—nanka itutii oodaa siTE:, HES Saturday on three somehow five order do-ger

‘Um, on Saturday, three—somehow, having ordered five,’

34 C: ano: saisyo itutu haitatu surareru‘ to iwareta n desu GA: HES first five deliver be done QT be told EP but

‘Um, (it)’s that at first, (we) were told (that) 5 would be delivered,’

35 Ao: A, mittu sika nakatta// desu ne? A three only have-neg-pf CP-ipf SP

‘Oh, (you) only had three, right?’

36 C: Ee, ee, ee. De doyoobi haitatu site- itadaiTE: yes yes yes then Saturday delivery do-ger receive from out-grp-ger (i)

‘Yes, yes, yes. Then Saturday, having (you) deliver,’

37 Ai: Hai, hai, hai, hai. yes yes yes yes

‘Yes, yes, yes, yes.’

'This is literally what the speaker said.

388 38 C: De nokori no hutatu ga nanka mokuyOObi ni kimasu: then remainder CN two SUB somehow Thursday on come-ipf

tte iwarete- ta n// desu keredomo. QT betold-pf be-pf EP but

‘Then (it)’s that (the) other two, somehow, will come on Thursday, we were told, but...

39 Ai: A soo desu ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is that right.’

40 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

41 A%: Tyotto, sirabemasu wa nee! little look into-ipf SP SP

‘(I)’ll just look into it, OK?’

[call recipient puts his hand over the receiver while speaking with a colleague for 15 secs]

42 A]: Mosi mosi! hello

‘Hello?’

43 C: Hai! yes

‘Yes!’

44 A2: Sositara ano ima sirabemasite in that case HES now look into-ger

tyotto, odenwa sasiagemasyo ka?/fl just telephone give to out-group-cns (i) Q

‘In that case um, shall I look into (it) now and just give (you) a call?’

-This was uttered with the slightly flat intonation common among Kobe speakers; note also the shortened vowel in sasiagemasyo.

389 45 C: A soo desu// ka. oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Oh, is (that) so.’

46 Al'. Kore, ato: ni-ko: goiriyoo desu ne? these left two need (+) CP-ipf SP

‘You need two more of these, right?’

47 C: Ano: dekitara, ne?// HES be possible-cnd ATF

San-ko ni site- itadakitai n desu// keDO: three GL do-ger receive from out-group-des (i) EP but

‘Um, if possible, you see? (It)’s that (we)’d like to have you (make it) three, but...’

48 A 2: Hai. A soo desu ka. BC Oh so CP-ipf Q

‘Mhm.’ ‘Is that so.’

49 C: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

50 A?: Moo san-ko, ne? more three SP

‘Three more, right?’

51 C: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

52 A2: Zyaa, emu effu gohyaku yuu yuu gohyaku watto no toransu O: well then M- F 500 U-U 500 watt CN transforms OBJ

‘Well then, MF 500, UU 500 watt transformers,’

53 C: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

390 54 A%: ato ni-ko no bun wa moo ik-ko tuika, left two CN amount TOP more one addition

san-ko to iu koto desu ne? three QT say matter CP-ipf SP

‘adding one (to) (the) remaining two, so it’s three, right?’

55 C: Hai! yes

‘Yes.’

56 A%: Hai, wakarimasita! ACK become clear-pf

‘OK, got it.’

57 C: Ano: orikaesi, zyaa, odenwa itadakemasu ka? HES return call in that case call receive from out-grp-ipf ('I) Q

‘Um, in that case, could (we) receive a call back?’

58 A%: Hai, sirabete:, odenwa sasiagema//su:. ACK look into-ger call give to out-group-ipf (X)

‘Yes, having looked into it, (we/I)’ll call (you).’

59 C: Hai, situree desu kedo: ACK rudeness CP-ipf but

‘Excuse me, but.’

60 A?: A, Masutaa Denki, Hashimoto desu:. oh Master Electric Hashimoto CP-ipf

‘Oh, (I)'m Hashimoto, Master Electric.

61 C: Hashimoto-san desu ne?// Hai, yorosiku// onegai-simasu:. Mr. Hashimoto CP-ipf SP? ACK well request-ipf (i)

‘(It)’s Mr. Hashimoto, right? Please [take care of it for me].’

62 Aj- Hai! Yorosiku onegai-simasu. BC well request-ipf (J,)

‘Mhm.’ ‘May things go well.’

391 APPENDIX I

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 7 (KANSAI)

Participants: Caller (C) is Ms. Nakayama (female acquaintance of Ms. Watanabe, a Kansai Imports employee; no company affiliation provided, but she is a travel agent—cf. Conversation 8 in Appendix J) Call recipient (A) is Ms. Terada, a 24 year old female operations staff member of Kansai Imports (bom and raised outside of Kobe)

Date of call: November 1994

Duration: 40 seconds (excluding 80 second pause while caller is on hold)

Sununary: Caller asks to speak with Ms. Watanabe, but doesn’t identify herself at first. Call recipient asks for her name, and caller provides it. After the caller is put on hold for quite some time, the call recipient returns to the line and indicates that Ms. Watanabe has stepped away for a moment. She then offers to (have Ms. Watanabe) call back once she has returned. The caller requests that she do so, and volunteers her phone number.

1 A: Hai, Kansai Yunyuu de gozaimasu:. ACK Kansai Imports CP-ipf (+)

‘Kansai Imports.’

2 C: Mosi mosi? Hello

‘Hello?’

3 A: Hai! ACK

‘Yes!’

4 C: A, sumimasen, ano: Watanabe-san wa irassyaimasu desyoo ka. oh be sorry-ipf HES Ms. Watanabe TOP be-ipf (T) CP-tent Q

‘Oh, I’m sorry, um, is Ms. Watanabe there?’

392 5 A: Hai, orimasu, syoosyoo omati kudasai// ACK be-ipf (i) moment waiting (T) give to in-group-imp (?)

‘Yes, (she) is, please wait a moment.

6 C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

7 A: —A, situree desu ga, oh rudeness CP-ipf but

‘Oh, excuse (me), but...’

8 A: dotira-sama desu// ka. which person (+) CP-ipf Q

‘Who is this?’

9 C: Hai, ano Nakayama to moosimasu:. ACK HES Nakayama QT be called-ipf (?)

‘Um, (I)’m Nakayama.’

10 A: Hai, syoosyoo omati kudasaWmase. ACK moment waiting (?) give to in-group-imp (?)

‘Yes, please wait a moment.’

[C is put on hold]

12 A: Mosi mosi, omatase simasita:. hello wait-cau-pf (?)

‘Hello, (thank you for) waiting.’

13 C: Hai, sumimasen//. ACK be sorry

‘Yes, thank you.’

14 A: A, sumimasen, ano: tyotto, Watanabe no hoo wa ima, oh be sorry HES just Watanabe CN side TOP now

Oh, (I)’m sorry, um, (Ms.) Watanabe is just now’

393 15 A: tadaima tyotto seki hazusite- ‘masiTE: just now just seat leave-ger be-ger

‘having just left her seat just now,’

16 C: Soo desu ka. so CP-ipf Q

‘Is that so.’

17 A: Hai. Yorosikereba, kotira kara gorenraku itasimasyoo ka? ACK good-ipf-prv this side from contact-ipf-cns (i) Q

‘Yes. If (you) like, shall (we) contact (you again) from this side?’

18 C: Yorosii desu ka? good CP-ipf Q

‘Is (that) all right?’

19 A: Hai. yes

‘Yes.’

20 C: Zyaa, omodori ni nararemasitaRA: well retum-ipf-cnd (T)

‘Well then, once (she)’s returned,’

21 A." Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

22 C: ano: odenwabangoo no hoo ga desu NE:! HES telephone number CN alternative SUB CP-ipf ATF

‘Um, as for (the) telephone number, you see,’

23 A: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

394 24 C: hai, a, gozonzi da to omou n desu kedo, M # NO: ACK oh know-ipf(T) QT think-ipf EP but ###CN

‘yes, oh, it’s that (I) think (she) knows (it), but it’s ### (dash)’

25 A: no, hai. ### CN ACK

‘### (dash), mhm.’

26 C: m m desu:. #### CP-ipf

####.’

27 A: #mm/

#### [repeats number]

28 C: H ai.// ACK

‘Yes.’

29 A; E:to.. Nakaya://ma.. HES Nakaya—ma

‘Um, Nakaya—ma.’

30 C: Nakayama desu:. Nakayama CP-ipf

‘It’s Nakayama.’

31 A: (0.3) Nakayama//-san desu ne? (0.3) Ms. Nakayama CP-ipf SP

‘[0.3 second pause] It’s Ms. Nakayama, right?’

32 C: Hai! yes

‘Yes!’

33 A; Hai. (0.5) Wakari//masita: ACK (0.5) understand-pf

‘Yes, (I) see.’

395 34 C: Osore irimasii:. be sorry

‘(D’m sorry [for the trouble].’

35 A: Hai// doomo arigatoo gozaimasita. ACK many ways thank you

‘Thank you very much.’

36 C; Hai, situree itasima:su. ACK rudeness do-pf (i)

‘Yes, goodbye.’

396 APPENDIX J

SAMPLE CONVERSATION 8 (KANSAI)

Participants: Caller (C) is Ms. Watanabe, 23 year old female operations staff member of Kansai Imports (parents are both Chinese, but was bom and brought up in Kobe, and attended Japanese schools) Initial call recipient (Ai) is an operator at a travel agency; (A%) is Ms. Nakayama (female acquaintance of Ms. Watanabe, and a travel agent—also appears in Appendix I, Conversation 7)

Date of call; November 1994

Duration: 45 seconds (Opening of the call only, excluding pause of 35 seconds)

Summary: This was a long conversation between two acquaintances in a casual, direct style with some dialect, but which began in careful style. Ms. Nakayama had called Watanabe (in Conversation 7), but Watanabe was away from her seat. In this conversation, Watanabe has returned her call. In the opening section which appears below, an operator at a travel agency answers the line, and Ms. Watanabe requests to speak with Ms. Nakayama. After a pause, Ms. Nakayama returns to the line and apologizes for the wait. Ms. Watanabe identifies herself, [After this opening section, Nakayama provides information about train tickets that Watanabe ordered for a group of people; Nakayama indicates the times of trains and various other details. The two seem to have a close relationship; use direct style with each other.] lA;: Omatase simasita. Nyuu ryokoo de gozaimasu:. wait-ipf-cau (i) new travel CP-ipf (+)

Thank you for waiting. New Travel.’

2C: Osore irimasii:. Watanabe to moosimasu:. be sorry Watanabe QT be called-ipf (>l)

‘(I)’m sorry [to bother you]. This is (Ms.) Watanabe.’

397 3A|: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

4C: E:, Nakayama-san, onegai// dekimasu desyoo ka. HES Ms. Nakayama request-ipf-pot (i) CP-ipf-tent Q

‘Um, could (I) (speak with) Ms. Nakayama?’

5A|: Hai, omati kudasaimase:. ACK waiting give to in-group-imp (T)

‘Yes, please wait (a moment).’

6C: Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

[caller is put on hold for 35 seconds]

7 A2: Mosimosi, odenwa kawarimasita. hello telephone change-pf

‘Hello, [‘(D’ve (ex)changed the phone (with someone else).]’

8C: Mosimosi: hello

‘Hello:.’

9A?: Omatase simasita:. wait-ipf-cau (i)

‘Thank you for waiting.’

IOC: Hai:// ArigaTOO. ACK thanks

‘Yes, thanks.’

IIA 2: Ogenki desu ka? healthy CP-ipf Q

‘How are (you)?’

398 12A2: E:to desu ne:! HES CP-ipf ATF

‘You see,’

I3C: Hai ACK

‘Mhm.’

14A1: MAzu: e:to, iki no densya. first HES outbound CN train

‘First, um, the outbound train.’

15C: Iki no densya. outbound CN train

‘The outbound train.’

I6A2: Un, toremasiTE: uh-huh take-pot-ger

‘uh-huh, being able to get (it), and’

I7C; Hai. ACK

‘Yes.’

I8 A2: Hai, e: Hamakaze no hatizyuu-iti-goo ACK HES sea breeze CN number 81

‘Mhm, um, ‘Sea Breeze’ number 21,’

19C: Ha-ma-ka-ze:: hatizyuu-iti. Sea Breeze eighty-one

‘Se—a Bre-eze, eighty-one.’

2OA2: Hai, e:to, Sannomiya-hatu:, zyuuni-zi yonzyuppun ACK HES Sannomiya departure twelve forty

‘Mhm, um, departing Sannomiya 12:40.’

21C: zyuuni-zi yonzyup — yatta:, toreta ne! twelve-fort— do-pf take-pf SP

‘12:4— great, got it!.’

399 22A2: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

23C: Hai. ACK

‘Mhm.’

400 APPENDIX K

TEXTBOOK CONVERSATION 2

Romanized and translated version of a conversation appearing in Nihongo de bijinesu kaiwa, chuukyuuhen (Nichi-bei Kaiwa Gakuin, 1987, p. 38-39).Line numbers and bold print have been added for easier reference in the text.

[Translation of heading appearing above the text in Japanese:]

Oobayashi Company employee of Universal Research Wayne Company employee of the Sales Section of Toyo Shoji

Obayashi calls for Taniguchi, the section chief of sales at Toyo Shoji. Taniguchi is out. Wayne answers instead. (Initially call is taken by the company operator).

Kookani: Tooyoo Syoozi de gozaimasu.

‘Toyo Shoji.’

Oobayashi I : Hanbai-ka no Taniguti-san, onegai-simasii.

‘May (I) please speak with Mr/s. Taniguchi of (the) Sales Section?’

Kookan 2: Situree desu ga, dotira-sama desu ka?

‘Pardon (me) for asking, but you are....’

Oobayashiz: Yunibaasaru Risaati no Oobayasi to moosimasu ga....

‘(I)’ni (Mr/s) Obayashi of Universal Research, but....’

Kookang: Syoo syoo omati kudasai.

‘Please wait a moment.’

401 Wayne i: Hanbai-ka de gozaimasu.

‘Sales.’

Kookana; Yunibaasaru Risaati no Oobayasi-sama kara Taniguti-katyoo ni odenwa desu.

‘There is a call for Taniguchi Section Chief from Mr/s Obayashi of Universal Research.’

Waynei: Hanbai-ka de gozaimasu.

‘Sales.’

Obayashis; Anoo, Yunibaasaru Risaati no Oobayasi to moosimasu ga....

‘Um, this is (Mr/s) Obayashi of Universal Research, but...’

Wayneg: A, itumo osewa ni natte-orimasu.

‘Ah, [thank you for your continued assistance.]’

Oobayashi^: lie, kotira koso.

‘The same to you.’

Taniguti-katyoo wa, irassyaimasu ka?

‘Is Taniguchi Section Chief there?’

Wayne^: Taniguti wa, tadaima, tyotto gaisyutu-tyuu na n desu ga....

‘(It)’s that Taniguchi has just stepped out for a moment, but....’

Oobayashi;: 0-dekake desu ka. Nan-zi goro ni okaeri ni narimasu ka?

‘(He)’s out? At about what time will (he) return?’

Wayne;: Yo-zi goro ni wa modotte-kuru yotee desu ga.... Anoo, nani ka...

‘(He)’s scheduled to return around 4, but.... Um, (is there) something....’

402 Oobayashi^: Zitu wa, tyotto okiki sitai koto ga atta n desu ga.... Zya, kekkoo desu. Yo-zi goro desu ne? Sore zya, sono koro mata kakemasu.

‘Actually, (it)’s just that there was something (I) wanted to ask (him) about, but....Well in that case, (it)’s fine. Around four, right? Well then, (I)’11 call again around that time.’

Waynes: Taniguti ga modo rimas itara, kotira kara odenwa itasimasyoo ka?

‘Once Taniguchi has returned (to the office), shall (we) call back?’

Oobayashi?: Soo desu ne. Onegai dekimasu ka?

‘Oh, could (I) ask (you) to do so?’

Wayne?: Hai, osore irimasii ga, nen no tame, sotira-sama no odenwa-bangoo o osiete-itadakemasen ka?

‘Certainly. (I)’m sorry, but just in case, could (you) please tell (me) your telephone number?’

Oobayashig: Hai, 391 no 5231, naisen 321 no Oobayasi desu.

‘Yes, (I)’m Obayashi of 391-5231, extension 321.

Wayneg: 391 no 5231, naisen 321 no Oobayasi-sama desu ne? Taniguti ga modo rimas itara, odenwa suru yoo ni tutaemasu. Watakusi, Vein to moosimasu.

‘Mr/s. Obayashi of 391-5231, extension 321, right? Once Taniguchi has returned, (I)’ll ask him/her to call. My name is Wayne.’

Oobayashig: Uein-san desu ne? Dewa, yorosiku onegai simasu.

‘(It)’s Mr/s Wayne, right? Please [take care of this for me].’

Wayneg: Hai, kasikomarimasita.

‘Yes, certainly.’

Oobayashi iq: De wa, situree itasimasu.

‘Well then, goodbye.’

Wayne 10'. Gomen kudasai. ‘Good-bye.’

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