Narrative Counselling: Social And Linguistic Processes Of Change (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

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Narrative Counselling

Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture The series includes contributions that investigate political, social and cultural processes from a linguistic/discourse-analytic point of view. The aim is to publish monographs and edited volumes which combine language-based approaches with disciplines concerned essentially with human interaction — disciplines such as political science, international relations, social psychology, social anthropology, sociology, economics, and gender studies. The book series complements the Journal of Language and Politics, edited by Ruth Wodak and Paul Chilton

General editors Paul Chilton and Ruth Wodak University of East Anglia/University of Vienna

Editorial address: Paul Chilton School of Language, Linguistics & Translation Studies University of East Anglia, Norwich NR4 7TJ, UK P. [email protected] and [email protected] Advisory board Irene Bellier

Andreas Jucker

Maison des Sciences de l’Homme, Paris

University of Zurich

Michael Billig

George Lakoﬀ

Loughborough University

University of California at Berkeley

Jan Blommaert

J. R. Martin

University of Ghent

University of Sydney

Bill Downes

Luisa Martín-Rojo

University of East Anglia

Universidad Autonoma de Madrid

Teun A. van Dijk

Jacob L. Mey

Pompeu Fabra University, Barcelona

University of Southern Denmark

Mikhail V. Ilyin

Christina Schäﬀner

Polis, Moscow

Aston University

Volume 11 Narrative Counselling: Social and linguistic processes of change by Peter Muntigl

Narrative Counselling Social and linguistic processes of change

Peter Muntigl University of Salzburg

John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam/Philadelphia

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The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ansi z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Muntigl, Peter Narrative counselling : social and linguistic processes of change / Peter Muntigl. p. cm. (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, issn 1569-9463 ; v. 11) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Marriage counseling. 2. Counseling--Case studies. 3. Narrative therapy. 4. Counselor and client. 5. Discourse analysis. 6. Change (Psychology) I. Title. II. Series. HQ10.M86 2004 302.2-dc22 isbn 90 272 2701 2 (Eur.) / 1 58811 534 8 (US) (Hb; alk. paper)

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© 2004 – John Benjamins B.V. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microﬁlm, or any other means, without written permission from the publisher. John Benjamins Publishing Co. · P.O. Box 36224 · 1020 me Amsterdam · The Netherlands John Benjamins North America · P.O. Box 27519 · Philadelphia pa 19118-0519 · usa

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Table of contents

Acknowledgements ix Chapter 1 Modelling semiotic change in narrative counselling 1.1 Introduction 1 1.2 Data 3 1.3 Semogenesis 6 1.4 Description of the counselling interview and semogenesis 9 1.5 Reformulations as transformative practice 11 1.6 Genres as global transformative social processes 15 1.7 Outline of book 19

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Chapter 2 Conversation analysis 2.1 Overview 21 2.2 Ethnomethodology 22 2.3 Conversation analysis (CA)

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Chapter 3 Systemic functional linguistics 3.1 Overview 47 3.2 Modelling language and social context 49 3.3 Language 52 3.4 Metafunctions of language 55 3.5 Discourse semantics 72 3.6 Texture & grammatical metaphor 81 3.7 Social context 86 3.8 Some implications of combining CA and SFL

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Chapter 4 Logogenesis: Narrative counselling as macro-genre 4.1 Overview 107 4.2 Representing generic structure 107 4.3 Language patterns and genre units 110 4.4 Macro-genres 112 4.5 The counselling macro-genre 115 4.6 Counselling as pedagogic discourse 124 4.7 Marco-genre and counselling theory 129

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Chapter 5 Reformulations as local transformations 5.1 Overview 133 5.2 Lexicogrammatical shape 136 5.3 Formulation-reformulation 166

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Chapter 6 Problem construction 6.1 Overview 179 6.2 Problem Identification 181 6.3 Problem Agency – client sensings 212 6.4 Negotiating the ‘goals’ of problem construction 226

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Chapter 7 Problem effacement 7.1 Overview 233 7.2 Identification of alternative behaviours 235 7.3 Alternative event and client agency 245 7.4 Negotiating the ‘goals’ of problem effacement 263

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Chapter 8 Clients’ semiotic repertoires: Ontogenesis 8.1 Overview 269 8.2 Beginning semiotic repertoire 273 8.3 Transitional semiotic repertoire: Scaffolding 281

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8.4 Developed semiotic repertoire 287 8.5 Social implications of ontogenesis 302 Chapter 9 Phylogenesis and concluding remarks 9.1 Overview 307 9.2 Phylogenesis 307 9.3 Alternative counselling interview 321 9.4 Concluding remarks – future directions Notes

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References Index 343

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Acknowledgements

This research would not have been possible, if it were not for the willingness of the couples to make their life situations available to public scrutiny. For this reason, a special thank you goes to all the couples who participated in this study, and to Adam Horvath for granting me access to the counselling data. I also thank the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, Doctoral Fellowship # 752-95-1442, for having funded this research. This book began as a PhD thesis. The main influence of systemic functional linguistics (SFL), which gradually became more and more dominant as the thesis unfolded, is largely due to Theo van Leeuwen and Jim Martin. It was through their seminars held in Vienna that I was gradually made aware of the great relevance that SFL may have in explaining the dynamics of counselling interactions. Many invaluable and insightful comments from Adam Horvath, Jim Martin and Bill Turnbull helped to shape my thesis into the form in which it now appears. Finally, I am deeply grateful to Birgit Huemer, who provided me with much support and encouragement while working on this book.

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Modelling semiotic change in narrative counselling

. Introduction This book is about how language is used in narrative counselling and how language use changes over the course of the counselling interview. The book, therefore, contributes to research in counselling (and therapy) that focuses on language or discourse. Whether cast in terms of a narrative, process, interaction or conversation, that research is predicated on the assumption that language plays a more or less central part in constructing clients’ social reality. Language, then, is not reduced to mirroring an internal or underlying reality. Instead, emphasis is placed on the creative role that language plays in reality construction. Language, from this perspective, is a resource that speakers use to do things. By focusing on change in counselling, I focus on two kinds of issues. The first involves the locus of change and the second, how to model change. Counselling researchers have, in general, taken the locus of change to be either cognitive or discursive and, furthermore, have restricted their examination of change to the client. Examples include Watzlawick, Weakland and Fisch’s (1974) constructivist approach, who have examined client change in terms of reframing clients’ conceptual or emotional viewpoints; Rice and Greenberg’s (1984) process research approach in which attention is devoted to the process in which clients’ mental states change as a result of therapy; and the social constructionist approaches in which change is studied in terms of clients’ changing narratives (see for example White & Epston 1990; Sluzki 1992). Although social constructionist research on counselling (for an overview of different social constructionist approaches see Gergen & McNamee 1992) recognizes the importance of language in altering client realities, scant attention is given to the linguistic means through which change occurs. For this book, I explore the role of linguistics in counselling by focusing on semiotic change. The term semiotics is used in Halliday’s (1985a: 4) general sense of systems of meaning. An example of a semiotic system is language. When clients select semiotic resources,

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these selections can be compared to prior selections. In this way, we may be able to track the changing ways in which clients and therapists make meaning. My interest in change is not restricted to semiotic changes involving the client. Of central interest also are the kinds of semiotic changes found during the unfolding of counselling sessions. The three central questions guiding this study are: (1) whether the counselling interview itself develops semiotically within and between sessions? (2) whether the counselling interview’s semiotic development plays a role in bringing about clients’ semiotic development? and (3) whether the kinds of semiotic resources selected during the sessions are indicative of a certain counselling approach? The second general issue that I address involves conceptions of change. One of the challenges of examining change is how best to model it. For instance, change can be regarded in terms of a continuum. At one end, change is random and is not progressive. At the other end, change is developmental, marked by progression and occurs in terms of stages. The latter form of change has been addressed by Chapman (1988) in his examination of cognitive development. Chapman proposes that cognitive development can be described by two different kinds of models. The first is Piagetian and is characteristic of a unidirectional and teleological mode of development. Here, change moves along stages towards an end state. The second model of change is multidirectional, in which change is measured in terms of distance from an initial state. Although the multidirectional model of change is not teleological, it is still characterized by progression (i.e., it is not a model of random change). What Chapman’s multidirectional model de-emphasizes is the notion of movement toward predetermined end states. Development, in this view, unfolds in different ways and the specific direction of change is dependent on the cultural context in which development occurs. After having identified the kind of change that I am interested in (i.e., semiotic change) and the possibilities for modeling change (i.e., multidirectional or unidirectional), the next step is to relate these foci of research. Put differently, when semiotic change is detected, the important questions to ask are “what changed?” and “how did it change?”. Because counselling occurs within and across sessions, counsellor and clients co-create a process that unfolds from session to session. The counselling process is the first locus of change. Counsellor-client interactions realize a text. According to Halliday (1985a), a text is a semantic unit. It is realized by linguistic choices. Furthermore, Halliday (1985a: 10) argues that a text can be conceptualized as product and as process. As product, a text is seen as the outcome of certain selections of linguistic choices. Product entails a static view of text in which meaning making has

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been recorded and is available for analysis. A more dynamic view of text is captured in its description as process. Here, the focus is on ongoing and continuous selections of linguistic choice. A view of text as process makes relevant the questions of whether the text has unfolded in a specific direction, and, if there is progression, whether it occurs unidirectionally or multidirectionally. Unilateral and teleological progression implies that the text goes through a series of stages and hence realizes a genre. In addition to being an unfolding process, counselling also targets clients and their problems. A main goal of counselling is to change something about the client. The development of the individual is the second locus of change. It is important to view changes to the client as related, not separate, to the counselling interview. In this way, the linguistic choices selected in counselling texts are made available to clients for their own development. One of the things that makes the counselling process useful for clients is that they may draw from the semiotic resources that have gone into text production. Finally, the kind of counselling used within and across sessions is constitutive of a certain counselling approach. The approach that is used is indicative of a cultural practice that clients and counsellors draw from to develop individually (this development occurs, of course, in a social context) and to instantiate the counselling interview. The evolution of a culture, or cultural practice, is the third locus of change. Describing a certain kind of cultural practice such as a specific instance of counselling enables a comparison with other instances. By collecting these instances and comparing them, it can be shown how counselling as a cultural practice is evolving. The three kinds of change – unfolding counselling process, individual development, cultural evolution – are addressed within a semiotic model of change proposed by systemic functional linguists (Halliday 1992; Halliday & Matthiessen 1999; Martin 1997, 1999b; Matthiessen 1993). According to these theorists, change falls under the rubric of semogenesis. In describing change in counselling, I draw heavily from the semogenetic model and the models of language and social context developed within systemic functional linguistics. For the rest of this chapter, I explain the semogenetic model and how I go about examining change.

. Data1 Couples experiencing marital distress were offered 6 conjoint counselling sessions with a professional counsellor for reduced fee, in return for their col-

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laboration with the research project. Participants were solicited from agencies offering mental health services, newspaper stories about the project, and from family physicians. Potential subjects were screened by doctoral level clinicians. Exclusion criteria included couples with a history of violence, sexual abuse, psychotic episodes within the last 10 years, serious substance abuse, and risk of suicide. Couples who had been treated elsewhere for the presenting issue(s) were also excluded. A couple to be included in the study had to have been cohabitating for a minimum of one year. Each of the six (four men, two women) counsellors participating in the study was in private practice offering couples counselling, or was employed by a health care service provider in such capacity. All counsellors met local licensing and qualification criteria and were chosen on the basis of the quality of their reputation. Treatment was not manipulated or manualized; each counsellor offered to the couples assigned to them the same form of counselling that would have been provided to their private clients. Counsellor self identified orientation included multi generational, systemic, narrative and eclectic. Of the fifty three couples who were interviewed for the study, forty seven started counselling. Of this sample, forty one provided useable data. Approximately one half of the couples were treated in the offices of a large private practice group located in a medium sized semi rural community; the rest were seen at a university based clinic. All sessions were audio- and video-taped. From the total data set, I randomly selected the audio-taped recordings of one couple who underwent the required six sessions of counselling. Prior to analyzing the counselling sessions, I did not have any information concerning the clients or the counsellor; that is, I did not know clients’ reasons for seeking counselling or the approach used by the counsellor. I received the following information about the clients and the counsellor only after having done my analysis. The female was 54 years of age, completed high school, was currently unemployed and had a history of depression. She was being treated for depression at the same time as she was receiving counselling. The male was 55 years of age, completed grade school, was also unemployed and also had a history of depression. The couple had two children, one of whom lived at home. Their initial reasons for receiving counselling were communication and financial. The counsellor identified his approach for these sessions as narrative (see White & Epston 1990). Each counselling session ranged from 60 to 70 minutes. I transcribed the audio-tapes of all six sessions using the transcript notation of conversation analysis. The set of conventions in Table 1.1, derived from Atkinson and Heritage (1984: ix–xiv), capture the transcription notations used in this book.

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Table 1.1 Transcript notation (.) (1.0) [] = : underline CAPS .hh hh () (?) ((laughter)) ((coughing))

untimed short pause (less than .5 seconds) timed pause overlapping speech, e.g., A: how was the [movie ] B: [great ] contiguous utterance e.g., A: how was the movie= B: =great extended sound, e.g., we:::ll emphasis greater emphasis in breath outbreath e.g., t(hhh)ake transcriber’s guess at speaker utterance unidentifiable speaker non-speech vocalizations are placed in double parentheses

Providing adequate detail such as suprasegmental and turn-taking information for one’s transcription is predicated on the conversation analytic tenet that a detailed as possible transcription of speakers’ talk (i.e., silences, hesitations, tone, pitch) is made available. A main premise here is that no aspect of social interaction be dismissed, a priori, as irrelevant. For systemic functional linguistics (henceforth SFL), description is also of central importance. Although SFL analyses are generally restricted to a text’s lexicogrammatical construction, detailed descriptions of rhythm and tone are also possible (see Halliday 1994: 292–307). Description and analysis begins with clause and/or text structure. Before anything can be claimed about the function of a given text, the analyst must first know how the grammar is being organized. Additional kinds of information are provided in the transcripts. Consider Ex. (1:1): (1:1) (A08P2) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09

C: okay we- we’ll get tuh those [places ] later yeah .hh a::h F: [yeah ] C: an they’re very important right cause that will show you an actually in fact indecisiveness doesn’t have control over all of your life [or even ] .hh F: [mhm ] C: I don’t know how much control it has over your life

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but .hh right now let’s just look at the u::m the effects of indecisiveness

The information to the right of the example number indicates the case and session number that the example was taken from (i.e., A08P2). The final digit, in this case a ‘2’, is the session number. The left-most column is reserved for highlighting important material under discussion. Arrowed symbols (i.e., →) are used for this purpose. The second column refers to line numbers. In the third column, speakers are identified (i.e., C=Counsellor; F=Fred; W=Wendy). Names for speakers are pseudonyms to protect the identity of the clients and counsellor. The fourth and last column contains the graphological recordings of speakers’ phonological output. In addition, speakers’ turns are segmented into clauses. For SFL, the clause is a basic unit of analysis. Clauses are those units that organize texts and realize meanings. Because clauses are the basic structures in which meanings are realized, I follow SFL and segment the transcript into these units. Doing this makes it easier to identify the kinds of clauses realized within turns or texts. Clauses that continue for more than one line are indented in the subsequent line, as shown in line 06.

. Semogenesis In order to examine semiotic change in counselling, I draw from the work of Halliday (1992) and Halliday and Matthiessen (1999). Under the rubric of semogenesis, Halliday and Matthiessen (1999: 17) model change along three levels of semiosis: logogenesis, ontogenesis, and phylogenesis. Logogenesis refers to the unfolding process in which texts are instantiated. Ontogenesis includes those resources that the individual has at his or her disposal to instantiate texts and how these resources develop alongside a developing individual. Lastly, phylogenesis comprises the evolving semiotic resources of a culture with which individuals may draw from to instantiate texts. Genesis works in two directions. First, cultural genesis projects – or provides a frame for – individual genesis, which in turn projects text genesis. Viewed from the opposite direction, participation in logogenesis or text production enables an individual to expand his or her semiotic meaning potential. This semiotic growth of the individual, in turn, allows for new kinds of cultural practices. In sum then, while logogenesis provides the material for individual and cultural change, logogenesis is also framed by and constrained by existing individual and cultural semiotic resources. Kinds of semiotic change are reviewed in Table 1.2.

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Table 1.2 Framing semiotic change logogenesis ontogenesis phylogenesis

“instantiation of the text/process” “development of the individual” “expansion of the culture”

unfolding growth evolution

(Taken from Martin 1999: 49)

The counselling process includes all three types of semogenesis. Logogensis refers to the interactions and generic social processes that clients and counsellors engage in to realize the counselling process; that is, counselling is seen as a process or text composed of a series of stages. Change, therefore, occurs as counsellors and clients move through the different stages of counselling. For example, while the beginning stage of counselling is mainly devoted to identifying problems, latter stages involve removing problems. So, as counselling unfolds, counsellors and clients participate in different, albeit topically related, social processes. Second, change is also considered in terms of clients’ ‘individual’ language used to realize social processes. For instance, it is assumed that clients end up talking differently as counselling progresses. Through the logogenetic unfolding of the counselling process, clients develop semiotically. They are able to talk about their experiences and their problems differently. The kinds of texts produced in counselling therefore enable client change. Third, counselling is a type of cultural (or professional) practice. Further, the type of counselling approach will influence how the texts in counselling will be realized. Therefore, the local turn-by turn interactions of counselling provide clients with alternative semiotic resources for acting differently and enables the realization of types of counselling activities; or, seen in reverse, the cultural practice of counselling is realized in clients’ and counsellors’ selection of resources that are used in the text generating process. In terms of everyday social processes, counselling is just one of many processes that clients engage in. And so, it would be difficult to make claims about the broader implications of the counselling interview and how this affects clients’ other everyday activities. Nonetheless, clients do seek counselling and, by doing so, make counselling a constitutive part of their lives. More importantly, counselling is, to a large degree, meta-communicative in that clients’ experiences are reported, analyzed and explained and therefore, at a more general level, reformulated. In this way, counselling is integrally about the changing ways in which clients may construe experience. It is precisely for this reason that it is important to examine counselling in terms of semogenesis. By examining kinds of semiotic practices and change in counselling, insight can be gained on how change comes about. My focus on semiotic change in coun-

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selling focuses primarily on logogenesis. A central aim of this work, therefore, is to provide a semiotic description of the stages that constitute counselling. In the final two chapters I relate my findings to ontogenesis and phylogenesis, but it should be emphasized that no claims are made about clients’ semiotic growth outside counselling. I view ontogenesis, therefore, only in terms of client development within, not outside, counselling. As already mentioned, in order to examine logogenesis in counselling, it is important to identify the kinds of semiotic resources used to facilitate change. From a global perspective, change is constituted by social processes. Gaik (1992: 276), for instance, identified two types of activities that are central to the therapeutic and counselling process: the therapeutic activity or mode and the counselling activity or mode. In the former, counsellor-client interactions orient to possibilities; that is, getting the client(s) to examine the possible sources of their troubles. In the latter, once a problem has been identified, the interaction turns to searching for solutions in order to remove or mitigate the problem. What is important then, is to identify counselling genres. Martin (1992: 505) defines genre as “a staged, goal-oriented social process. . . .” The genres of counselling orienting to clients’ problems that I identified from my analyses include the construction and effacement of problems. In contrast to Gaik, however, I did not find that problem construction oriented to possibilities. The latter genre, problem effacement, did this. Rather, problem construction involved identifying problems and positioning problems as the cause of client behaviour. Problems, in other words, arise within the counselling interview and are not ontologically antecedent to or waiting to be ‘discovered’ by counselling. So, while couples most certainly do construct and negotiate problems prior to seeking counselling, these problems will not necessarily bear any resemblance to problems identified by the counsellor during the sessions. Following Buttny (1993: 70), problems talk is constitutive of the clients’ practical task of explaining why they are in counselling. Moreover, problems are not articulated merely for their descriptive adequacy, but may serve a range of discourse functions such as blaming and complaining about other or accounting for one’s own actions. The logogenesis of problems is also realized in more local instantiations of the text-producing process (i.e., interaction) – as opposed to more global instantiations realized through genre. I argue that the basic sequence for inducing change is the formulation-reformulation sequence. To begin, couples’ formulations of why they have sought counselling tend to focus on some negative aspect of own and other’s behaviour or of past experiences. Moreover,

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these client formulations get transformed through counsellor reformulations. I claim that reformulations are part of a more general grammatical function that Halliday (1994) refers to as elaboration; that is, reformulations elaborate on, restate or reword some prior lexicogrammatical construction. Included are grammatical units such as nominal/verbal groups, clauses and clause complexes. In other words, there is no limit to the kinds of grammatical units that the counsellor can orient back to. Turning to ontogenesis, my interest is in whether clients expand or alter their linguistic meaning potential during counselling. Or to put this in simpler terms, talking differently about a problem implies that different linguistic resources are being used. What has changed for the client, therefore, is the ability to draw upon different resources for construing and eliminating the problem. The meaning potential of the individual grows because there is now a potential for new ways of talking. The growth of clients’ linguistic meaning potential is, I would argue, strongly influenced by the counsellor. Towards the latter stages of counselling, clients talk about problems in ways that resemble the counsellor’s way of talking that is, clients talk about the agentive role of problems in influencing their lives; but they also position themselves as agents in relation to overcoming problems and their influence. In the final aspect of change, phylogenesis, I consider the particular counselling interview that I have examined with respect to its place in the evolution of counselling practices. For instance, are the kinds of genres and reformulations indicative of a certain counselling approach? Are the kinds of practices that occurred typical for other instances of counselling or would other clients and counsellors construct different genres? To shed some light on these questions I compare the semiotic practices that occurred in my data with a transcript involving different clients and a different counsellor. In the following sections, I specify in more detail what this book is about, the central claims that I am making, and how these claims are grounded in some broader issues surrounding counselling and discourse analysis. These include (1) The importance of describing the interactive counselling process for mapping out semogenesis; (2) Reformulation as a local transformative practice; and (3) Genres as global transformative social processes.

. Description of the counselling interview and semogenesis It is increasingly being recognized in counselling research that an analysis of counsellor-client talk can provide valuable insights regarding client change.

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In their introduction to psychotherapy process research, Rice and Greenberg (1984) repeatedly argue for the importance of examining the internal structure and details of counselling interaction: . . . it is becoming apparent that even the basic questions concerning therapy outcome, such as the questions of the effectiveness of particular treatments, cannot be adequately answered until clearer descriptions and understanding of what actually happens between client and therapist in different “treatments” is obtained. (p. 8) Our conviction it that a new style of research paradigm is called for, one that will make use of intensive analysis for discovering the internal structure of the interactions of therapy while using some more extensive method for verification of some of the basic processes of therapeutic change. (p. 8) The purpose of this book is to describe and illustrate a general investigative strategy focusing on the important phenomena of psychotherapy by studying process within its in-session context. (p. 8) The approach we are suggesting in this book involves the intense scrutiny of particular classes of recurrent change episodes in psychotherapy, making finegrained descriptions of these moments of change together with the patterns of client-therapist interactions that form that context. (p. 13)

A main point arising from Rice and Greenberg’s claims is that “clearer” and “fine-grained” descriptions of the counselling interactions can somehow be mapped onto change. What is being argued, in my view, is that the logogenesis of the counselling processes be examined and, by implication, that logogenesis provides the material for ontogenesis. For Rice and Greenberg to obtain “clearer descriptions and understanding of what actually happens between client and therapist,” “fine-grained descriptions of these moments of change” and “the internal structure of the interactions of therapy”, more attention must be given to how language is being used during counselling. More precisely, analysis must consider the interactive sequences of counsellor-client talk, the lexicogrammatical construction of the turns uttered during counselling and the functional stages of counselling. One decisive step in this direction came from Gale (1991), who recommended that process research adopt the analytic machinery of Conversation analysis (CA). Because of CA’s careful attention to what speakers say and the interactional context in which utterances are made, Gale claims that CA is able to fill a methodological gap in process research. In other words, it is through CA’s detailed analysis of interaction and of speakers’ orientations to each others’ talk

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that process researchers can gain insight into the kinds of discursive changes that occur in therapy. Gale’s work, however, was not the first to show how discourse analyses can be used to examine therapeutic conversations. Labov and Fanshel’s (1977) seminal work on Therapeutic Discourse and, somewhat later, Davis’ (1986) and Peyrot’s (1987) papers on therapists’ and clients’ discursive practices provide various perspectives on how an examination of interaction can convey something about the moment-to-moment unfolding of therapy. Since then, numerous discourse analytic studies have appeared with a focus on couples therapy (Buttny 1993, 1996, 1998; Edwards 1994, 1995; Kogan & Gale 1997), Aids counselling (Peräkylä 1993, 1995; Peräkylä & Silverman 1991; Silverman 1994, 1997), family therapy (Aronsson & Cederborg 1994; Grossen 1996), group therapy (Wodak 1986, 1996), psychiatric intake interviews (Bergmann 1992) and radio talk-show therapy (Gaik 1992). None of these studies, however, have specifically addressed semogenesis. In order to do this, more attention must be paid to the semiotic resources used in counselling and the functional stages of the counselling interview. An account of the kinds of semiotic practices occurring in counselling provide us with information about the counsellor’s theory; that is, what the counsellor does linguistically can be related to the approach that the counsellor is drawing form. In this case, the counsellor identified his approach as narrative. At one level, an examination of the narrative interview can provide a description of what the counsellor does in semiotic (functional) terms. In this way, we can make claims about what narrative consellors actually do during the interview. From another level, however, what a counsellor professes to do can be compared with the aims of the theory. It can thus be shown how ‘pure’ a counsellor’s approach actually is. In the next section, I briefly describe reformulation, a ubiquitous kind of local transformative practice used by the narrative counsellor.

. Reformulations as transformative practice In counselling research, change is often associated with a practice known as reframing. Gale and Brown-Standridge (1988) argue that reframing has its roots in Erickson’s hypnotic techniques and was first labeled as a full-fledged therapeutic practice by Watzlawick, Weakland and Fisch (1974). Central to the notion of reframing is the observation that therapists selectively orient to and highlight some aspect of clients’ talk (Gale & Brown-Standridge 1988: 371). In

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this way, clients’ talk is placed within a new interactional context and acquires a new meaning for the interactants. According to Watzlawick et al. (1974: 95): To Reframe, then, means to change the conceptual and/or emotional setting or viewpoint in relation to which a situation is experienced and to place it in another frame which fits the “facts” of the same concrete situation equally well or even better, and thereby change its entire meaning.

So, for Watzlawick et al., a reframe is primarily an ontogenetic resource. Changing a client’s viewpoint enables client development. Note however, that this kind of change is not semiotic but cognitive. What this view of client change ignores is the part that semiosis and logogenesis plays in providing the material for clients’ ontogenesis. If Rice and Greenberg’s plea for a detailed description of the logogenesis of counselling is followed, then what is needed is a system for describing the linguistic resources used in counselling and the role these resources play in creating change. To address these issues, I use the analytic resources of SFL as outlined in Halliday (1978, 1994) and Martin (1992). According to SFL, clause meaning is organized by three different metafunctions: Experiential, Interpersonal, and Textual. These refer to clause as representation, clause as exchange and clause as message, respectively. I do not attempt to explain all three metafunctions here – this is done in Chapter 3 – but I will briefly describe some aspects of the experiential function to show how this might tie into an analysis of counselling. By experiential, Halliday (1994) refers to how clauses relate to a grammatical system of transitivity in which clauses are divided up into Processes, Participants and Circumstances. Processes tend to be realized by verbal groups, Participants by nominal groups and Circumstances by prepositional phrases. To see how these categories may be mapped onto clauses consider line 23 from Ex. (1:2): 23 F: she should do that in all situations

Using the resources of transitivity, this clause can be divided up in the following way: Process: Participant1: Participant2: Circumstance:

should do she that in all situations

An examination of the transitivity structure of a clause provides a way of labeling the different parts of the clause and their grammatical functions. When Halliday (1978: 22) refers to (meta)function, he is careful to point out

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that he does not equate this with how language is being used, since language use involves the relationship between a text and its context. Metafunctions, rather, correspond to abstract functions that are internal to language. Functions within transitivity such as Process or Participant refer to the parts of the clause and the way in which they are configured. The function of each part is always assessed in relation to the whole clause. For a transitivity analysis, this translates into examining the grammatical realizations of Process, Participants and Circumstances. In line 23 below, the Process should do refers to the behavioural Processes speak and say of lines 20–21. This process involves two Participants, she and that, in which She is cast as the Behaver of the Process do and the Range, that, specifies the scope of the behaviour. Additional meaning of Location is provided by the Circumstance in all situations. There are a number of ways in which an examination of the metafunctions can offer up new perspectives for one’s analysis of discourse. My interest, however, is how they can contribute to the analysis of semiotic change. It was mentioned above that counsellors select and alter some aspect of the clients’ talk. However, rather than merely providing a new ‘frame’ for clients’ talk counsellors also reword that talk. In SFL, rewording of this kind falls under the more general heading of reformulation (Martin 1992: 208). Simply put, reformulations involve a restating of client’s formulation. And especially important is to examine which transitivity selections are used in reformulating. To illustrate this point, consider Ex. (1:2) (reformulation is indicated by arrowed lines 13, 15–21; C=counsellor and F=client): (1:2) (A08P1) 1 F: I think (3.0) 2 that she r- she doesn’t like (1.5) anything 3 uh (0.8) confrontational 4 she doesn’t like any fuss or argument 5 if she can avoid it 6 so she tends tuh want tuh give in to 7 what other people want 8 or or even beat them to the punch 9 by doing what she thinks they want (2.0) 10 placing them in adva::nce 11 so there’s no fuss n- no fuss no argument (1.0) um (1.0) 12 [so what I ] consider discussion → 13 C: [so you see ] 14 F: she considers arguing and fighting

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→ → → → → → →

15 C: kay so you see 16 Wendy Sue as wanting to avoid confrontation 17 and to to pleasing you 18 and you don’t want her to do that (0.7) 19 you want 20 her tuh::: speak her own mind 21 and say what she wants tuh do 22 F: uhm and I think I think 23 she should do that in all situations

In lines 13 and 15, C prefaces his reformulation with the coordinating conjunction so. Following so, we have you see. . . . It will be shown in the chapter on reformulations that many of the therapist’s reformulations contain this canonical turn preface structure of so + Participant (pronoun) + Process (verb). Following the turn preface, C reformulates parts of F’s prior turn. How can these transformations be described (what has been selected and altered)? If a transitivity analysis is applied by examining clauses in terms of Processes, Participants and Circumstances, those parts of the grammar that have been transformed by C can then be identified. In applying a transitivity analysis, I will restrict myself to what C has reformulated in lines 15–16, you see Wendy Sue as wanting to avoid confrontation: Clause # Process Participant 1 see -you 2 wanting to avoid -Wendy Sue; confrontation

After having segmented C’s clauses, the next step is to examine what parts of F’s turn could conceivably be seen as being in some way tied to the reformulation. One way of making this link is to consider the lexical chains constructed in this text (Martin 1992: 271); that is, the Process, wanting to avoid, and the Participants, Wendy Sue and confrontation, must in some way be linkable to F’s formulation. We can see that F’s talk about Wendy Sue, avoiding and confrontation appear in lines 1–3. The breakdown of each of these clauses is shown below: 1 think 2 doesn’t like

-I -she r- she -anything uh (0.8) confrontational 3 doesn’t like -she -any fuss or argument 4 (if) can avoid -she -it

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Before comparing the transitivity structure of F’s and C’s clauses, the first thing to notice is that what F expresses in 3 clauses (F’s clauses 2–4) C compresses into 1 (C’s clause 2). The second difference occurs at the level of Process (i.e., verbal group). While F uses doesn’t like and can avoid, C uses wanting to avoid. In this way, not liking something and the ability to avoid that something is transformed into wanting to avoid it. The third difference is at the level of Participant. Although F begins with anything confrontational in clause 2, he switches over to fuss or argument in clauses 3 and 4. In C’s reformulation, F’s anything confrontational is transformed to confrontation, and fuss or argument is completely left out. The final difference consists of how C frames F’s formulation; that is, C uses the process see to project what F has said in terms of a perception, even though F has not mentioned how he sees or perceives W’s behaviour. In sum, then, a transitivity analysis can show what parts of clients’ grammar get transformed through reformulations. Grammatical transformations also involve functional transformations or resemanticizations (Halliday 1998). For example, by reformulating the description of W’s behaviour from not liking confrontation to wanting to avoid it, C also changes the type of desideration (i.e., liking, wanting) that is associated with W. So, reformulations are not merely different ways of expressing the same meaning. By reformulating, C also changes clients’ initial meanings.

. Genres as global transformative social processes In this section I turn from the local transformative practice of reformulation to the larger social processes of which reformulations are a constititive part. The social processes or activities of counselling tend to centre around problems. I have identified two general kinds of genres from the narrative counselling interview: Problem construction and Problem effacement. The counsellor and couple that I observed underwent six counselling sessions. And it is these six sessions that have been analyzed in their entirety. In narrative counselling, there is not just one problem that is co-constructed. Some problems or reasons/causes of clients’ undesirable behaviour continue on across sessions, whereas others are intensively discussed in one session and ignored in the next. In order to map out the life-span of problems, which persist and which do not, problem talk should be examined from its inception up to the point at which counselling has ended. The first three sessions dealt mainly with identifying problems and probing their causal influences. Ex. (1:3) below shows how C

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identifies the problem as being the victim role (a arrows) and then proceeds to explore the victim role’s causal effects (b arrows). (1:3) (A08P5) 01 α → 02 03 04 05 06 07 α → 08 α → 09 10 11 α → 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 β → 29 β → 30 β → 31 β → 32 β → 33 β → 34 β → 35 β → 36

C:

W: C:

W: C:

W: C:

W: C: W:

C:

u::m (.) ha how will describe is this like a pattern of withdrawal? (2.5) i the end result is one of withdrawal from the (.) from from from Fred. (3.5) I:: suppo::se that it is in a wa::y::? or would you say its more there’s more of a (.) i its more like a adopting a victim kind’ve role. (1.5) I become the victim. uh huh. (.) right. usually the victim pattern is something that (holds) is something that’s consistent here= =mhm do does this (.) role of being a victim (.) u::m (.) does that kinda role that you you find that that’s one that’s: tailor made fer you that kinda suits the way in which you wanna see yourself. or be seen by others. (.) I don’t (.) want to be the victim? but I do play it pretty well mhm (1.5) I I don’t know that (1.0) anyone else (.) sees me that way. (2.5) wuh what does this victim role have you:: um thinking about yourself. y’know. (2.0) ah as you’re as you’re removing yourself from Fred an (.) going into the other room. what kinda thoughts might be going through your head about Fred d does it put ideas in your head

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β → 37 that maybe .hh Fred doesn’t care about you (.) β → 38 doesn’t care about your feelings. 39 W: oh yes.

Prior to the beginning of this segment, C explores the kinds of phenomena that may be associated with W’s behaviour. In 02, C associates this behaviour with a pattern of withdrawal. However, since this kind of identification receives weak agreement from W (i.e., I:: suppo::se that it is in a wa::y::?), C then proffers another possibility (i.e., i its more like a adopting a victim kind’ve role.), which receives ratification from W in 11. What C is doing here is reformulating W’s prior talk of how she withdraws from F by identifying this talk with another kind of behaviour – adopting a victim kind’ve role. In doing this, C has entered the first stage of problem construction, identifying the problem, which in this case is the victim role. Problems in narrative counselling also cause clients to do things. This marks the second stage of problem construction. Lines 29–38 is an example of this; that is, C claims that this victim role gets W to think certain things and it puts ideas in her head. Problem talk does not only involve constructing problems but also effacing them. The latter sessions with the exception of session 5 were devoted to this activity (In session 5, talk reverted back to mapping out the problem because the couple had been having more rather than less ‘difficulties’). Constructing problems as causal agents to clients’ actions, thoughts, being and behaviour, sets up the practical task of solving the problem in the following ways. First, clients can resist the problem’s causal influence by ceasing to believe in it. Second, clients can try to do the opposite of what the problem makes/wants/tells them to do. In Ex. (1:4), the counsellor orients to both of these aspects of solving the problem by first orienting to the problem’s past causal influences on W (a arrows) and then to W’s alternate behaviour (b arrows). Earlier on, W had explained that she had experienced a sudden crisis and that F was able to help her through it by talking with her. (1:4) (A08P4) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

C: help me to understand w(hh)hy w(h)hy this why this is significant (0.8) in terms of your relationship to the problem. are you you [you you your relationship to yourself ] W: [well what is oh okay ] I’m sorry= C: =that you sat in the car (.)with Fred=

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α α α α

→ → → →

β β β β β

→ → → → →

8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

W: =yeah= C: =an talked this through .hh rather then just relying on yourself. (0.8) I don’t understand the connection [( )] W: [oh becuz ] I wuz in in in considerable distress at that point= C: =.hh in the past you might’ve uh kept it to yourself wuz that one of the requirements of the problem? (.) that you don’t let the in the not letting others down you don’t share wi them how they f:: how you feel= W: =true. yeah= C: =is this another indication then that you::’re a:::::h another indication of the way in which you’re .hh not believing the problem’s requirements of you or what the problem says about you W: I’m trying to:: eliminate the problem=

In this excerpt, C contrasts what would have happened in the past (a arrows) with what happens now (b arrows). The past is associated with the problem’s causal effects (i.e., one of the requirements of the problem?). The effects are listed in turns 14–17 and consist of: (1) you might’ve uh kept it to yourself (line 14); and (2) in the not letting others down you don’t share wi them how they f:: how you feel (lines 16–17). In lines 19–23, C shifts his talk to current happenings by focusing on how W had resisted the problem. C claims that by not acting in accordance with the problem’s requirements, W is not believing in the requirements. A new form of causal relation is being constructed here. W’s change of belief, from believing to not believing the problem’s requirements, allows W to act differently. Change, then, gets realized in clients’ enactment of behaviours that work in opposition to the kinds of experiences construed within the problem construction genre. A genre analysis also has relevance for counselling practice. What I have described as problem construction and problem effacement can be compared to narrative counsellors’ accounts of their own activities. For instance, in their seminal work on narrative therapy, White and Epston (1990: 39) argue that a central goal of the interview is to separate clients from “problem-saturated descriptions” of their lives and relationships – a more detailed account of narrative therapy is given in Chapters 4 and 9. Therefore, by examining the genres produced in counselling, and the way in which meanings are negotiated turn-

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by-turn, we can describe how “separating clients from the problem” and other narrative discursive practices actually get accomplished.

. Outline of book In the remaining parts of this book, I ground my research objectives within the theoretical frameworks of CA and SFL, and flesh out the above mentioned concepts of genre, social context and lexicogrammatical resource by providing numerous examples and analyses of counsellor-client interactions. In Chapter 2, I examine the important contribution of CA in developing our understanding of social interaction. I also consider the historical development of CA, by mentioning a few research traditions that have been influential in shaping CA’s theoretical development. In Chapter 3, I focus on SFL and argue that a consideration of both approaches may provide a more fruitful way of analyzing social processes and semogenesis. In addition, I argue that SFL’s approach enables the analyst to make more explicit links between language and social context and provides a detailed framework for incorporating grammar into an analysis of social action. Many discourse approaches, including CA, neglect to extensively consider speakers’ use of grammar in their analyses; SFL does an excellent job of filling this gap. In Chapter 4, logogenesis is discussed in terms of a narrative counselling macro-genre; that is, I argue that the narrative counselling interview consists of two genres, problem construction and problem effacement. In addition, I claim that these genres constitute a pedagogic discourse, in which a regulative register projects an instructional register. In Chapter 5, reformulations are examined. I illustrate how reformulations may be identified within a turn, how they are sequentially organized, how they are grammatically realized and the kinds of grammatical transformations that they perform on client formulations. The first stage of the narrative counselling macro-genre, problem construction, is discussed in Chapter 6. I show how problem construction is realized by two stages, Problem Identification and Problem Agency. I argue that problems get identified by the counsellor through reformulations of clients’ negative descriptions of behaviours or events, that problems take on agentive roles in which they cause client (negative) behaviour, and finally, that clients are construed as having thoughts that are caused by the problem.

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In Chapter 7, I discuss the second and last genre of the narrative counselling macro-genre, problem effacement. This genre is also realized by two stages: identifying alternative behaviours and construing alternative events or the client as an Agent. These stages, in a host of ways, work against the kind of experiential and social reality constructed in the first genre. In particular, alternative events, narratives, participant roles and alternative appraisals of behaviour work together to help clients construe a new kind of (positive) experience, one in which clients are no longer under the influence of the problem. In Chapter 8, I consider the relationship between the logogenetic process of narrative counselling and client ontogenesis. I show that the kinds of counselling practices that clients participated in provide the materials for construing experience differently. Clients, for example, develop the ability to speak about problems in cause-effect terms and they become able to speak about their lives as Agents of their actions. In Chapter 9, I discuss the logogentic and ontogenetic process of narrative counselling in terms of phylogenesis. I provide a short evolutionary history of counselling as a cultural practice and show how the narrative counselling interview that I have analyzed fits into this evolutionary scale. In addition, I provide an excerpt of a counselling session involving a different client and couple and show how logogenesis unfolds differently. The final pages address some of the implications of this work.

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Conversation analysis

. Overview In this chapter I begin my overview of the theories on language and social context that have grounded and guided this work, by focusing on ethnomethodology (EM)/conversation analysis (CA). In the following chapter I extend this discussion by providing a detailed account of SFL theory. Although a number of theoretical issues are addressed in this section, special emphasis is placed on social action and its interactional accomplishment. What I am most interested in explicating is a theory of social action. This amounts to describing the kinds of resources or methods that speakers use to construct their social worlds and how they are able to understand each others’ use of resources and actions. Or put differently, I am interested in: (1) explicating speakers’ interpretive methods used to understand text; and (2) explicating the system of meaning that speakers draw from when creating and interpreting text. What is needed, therefore, is a theory of meaning-making for the former and a theory on speakers’ meaning-making resources used in meaning-making for the latter. I emphasize this second point because of the often peripheral status given to language (i.e., lexicogrammar and semantics) as a meaning-making resource. Because language is used to make meanings, different lexicogrammatical and semantic realizations should be seen with respect to the system of meanings these realizations may instantiate. Uses of language, therefore, are not made independent of a system of language. And so, speakers’ lexicogrammatical and semantic selections always occur in relation to the meaning-making potential of the system as a whole. Taking language as a semiotic system is important for this study of semogenesis in counselling because only in this way can something be said about the developing counselling process and clients’ changing semiotic practices. To provide a theory of speakers’ interpretive methods, I begin by explicating the work of EM and CA. First, I describe Garfinkel’s (1967) ethnomethodological research on meaning-making methods. Specific attention is given to ethnomethodological concepts such as trust, reflexivity, indexicality and the documentary method of interpretation. I then turn to conversation analytic

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research, which grounds many of Garfinkel’s claims in conversational data. CA research has largely contributed to our understanding of social action by demonstating that action sequences enable the achievement of intersubjectivity and are reflexively constituted by normative frameworks.

. Ethnomethodology The ethnomethodological approach proposes that social action be examined in reference to speakers and the practical methods that speakers make use of to organize their everyday activities. The founder of ethnomethodology, Harold Garfinkel, suggests the following general research program: I use the term “ethnomethodology” to refer to the investigation of the rational properties of indexical expressions and other practical actions as contingent ongoing accomplishments of organized artful practices of everyday life. (Garfinkel 1967: 11)

Garfinkel stresses that social organization is ongoing and contingently accomplished and that the ‘meaningfulness’ of expressions is incompletely specified (i.e., indexical) prior to an expression’s placement or use within a social context. Terms such as indexicality and contingent accomplishment are central to Garfinkel’s theory of action and it might be instructive to examine the intellectual milieu in which Garfinkel developed his theory to see what other theories may have influenced this development. Heritage (1984) provides an extensive summary of the various theoretical inputs to Garfinkel’s theory of social action. To begin, Garfinkel was a student of Talcott Parsons. In 1937, Parsons published a book, The Structure of Social Action, that was to have a profound impact on much sociological research in decades to follow. One of Parsons’ claims was that speakers internalized normative patterns and that these norms guided speakers’ conduct. In this way, speakers became motivated to act out what they have internalized. Such a framework can be used to explain a number of social regularities such as the observation that greetings tend to be followed by greetings. Garfinkel’s (1967: 68) dissatisfaction with Parsons’ account of social organization was that speakers’ actions, judgements and use of knowledge were treated as epiphenomenal, since social organization was reduced to being a by-product of the causal properties of internalized norms. Garfinkel’s aim, therefore, was to show that speakers are not merely acting out prescripted scenes but that they play an active part in creating these scenes. In order to do

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this, Garfinkel borrowed a number of insights from Phenomenology. Especially important was Alfred Schutz’s treatment of common sense knowledge. One topic of interest for phenomenologists is how people are able to understand their social world. To begin, phenomenologists do not see perception as a passive process in which speakers merely take in an already constituted reality. Instead, perception is an active process in which speakers’ ways of attending to an object of perception will influence how the object is ‘seen.’ One example of this process is taken from a diagram that may be attended to either as a rabbit or a duck (Wittgenstein 1958: 194); or to take another example, a different diagram allows for the viewer to recognize a vase or two faces (see Heritage 1984: 40). So, for the object of perception to move from either a rabbit or a vase to a duck or two faces, one must attend to the object in a specific way. From the observation that viewers may recognize a different construct from the ‘same’ image, Schutz suggested that people, when attending to an object, must bring in certain knowledge from their prior experiences. To make sense of our worlds, therefore, Schutz (1962: 7) claims that people have a stock of knowledge about previous experiences of and about objects in the world. In addition, this stock of knowledge is characterized by its typicality. This means that objects of perception are not cognized in terms of a one-to-one correspondence between the perceived object and a specific mental construct. By typicality, Schutz (1962: 7) refers to knowledge as “carrying open horizons of anticipated similar experiences.” Recognition does not, according to Schutz, rely on people having unique categories for every object of perception but rather on our ability to form general categories such as “dogs,” “computers,” “chairs,” “mountains,” etc. For example, if a dog entered our field of perception, our ability to recognize or make some sense of it does not rest in our ability to name it as “Collie” or “Irish Setter.” From the stock of knowledge at hand, we could recognize that our object of perception has the typical features and behaviours of “dog” and not that of “cat” or “mouse.” In this way, we apply our typical knowledge of objects in the world and match this up to what we are focusing on. Another feature of common sense knowledge addressed by Schutz is its intersubjective character. By intersubjective, Schutz does not claim that people have identical experiences or even identical ways of cognizing objects of perception. Instead, due to their unique biographies, people have their own private and unique experiences of events. And, in addition to this, people do not have access to the other’s private world and so can never ‘really’ know what the other is experiencing. If this is so, how then is it possible for knowledge to be intersubjective? Schutz’s (1962: 11) answer is that although the other’s private world is inaccessible, this is irrelevant because people assume that their experi-

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ences are identical unless good reasons are provided to suggest otherwise. So, although people have differences in perspectives, a reciprocity of perspectives is achieved by speakers’ orientation to two idealizations (Schutz 1962: 11–12): (1) The idealization of the interchangeability of standpoints; and (2) The idealization of the congruency of the system of relevances. The first idealization acknowledges that individuals stand in differing relationships to objects of perception. Nonetheless, individuals assume that if some other (e.g., W) were to perceive an object from the identical standpoint as A such that W’s ‘there’ becomes identical to A’s ‘here’ then W could perceive the object with the same typicality as A. The second idealization assumes that individuals have differing experiences due to their unique biographies. Notwithstanding these differences in our biographical make-up, individuals assume that everyone – unless counterevidence is presented – has interpreted the object of perception in the same manner. It is through the operation of these idealizations that “we both see the “same” flying bird in spite of the difference of our spatial position, sex, age, and the fact that you want to shoot it and I just to enjoy it” (Schutz 1962f: 316). Schutz’s treatment of social actors as applying their stock of knowledge to objects of perception and maintaining intersubjective worlds through the idealizations emphasized the central role of actors’ common sense judgements in constructing their social worlds. This is in marked contrasts to the Parsonian actor who merely acts in accordance with specific internalized rules and norms: . . . the Schutzian actor inhabits a vastly expanded cognitive universe. In contrast to the Parsonian actor who orients only to an empirically situational world of objects which he can know with varying degrees of approximation to scientific accuracy, the Schutzian actor has a greatly enriched ‘inner life’. In addition to the ‘real world’ of perception and cognition, the latter can imagine, remember, dream, and theorize and, moreover, do all these with respect to both empirical and ideal objects. (Heritage 1984: 66)

Another difference between the Schutzian and Parsonian accounts of social organization is that Parsons emphasized the moral rules that constrain social action while ignoring speakers’ common sense judgements, whereas Schutz paid little heed to the former and provided an elaborate framework for the latter (Heritage 1984: 76). One of Garfinkel’s aims was to make this link between the moral and the cognitive (ibid. 76). Under the rubric of ‘trust,’ Garfinkel (1963) was able to demonstrate the inherent moral force of social actions and that speakers expect each other to maintain the natural attitude of daily life and hold each other accountable if they do not adhere to this attitude.

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.. Trust Borrowing from Schutz, Garfinkel (1963: 210) argues that, in their dealings with one another, speakers adopt an attitude of daily life that is known in common. Put simply, this means that speakers will assume that as they ‘see’ objects and events so will others identically and for all practical purposes ‘see’ those objects and events. Further, this implies that the typicality of objects and events will be mutually recognized and that any differences in standpoints and biographies will not be an obstacle to achieving a reciprocity of perspectives. These assumptions and common sense judgements play an integral part in producing an assumed intersubjective world of experiences. Garfinkel’s interest was in finding out what might jeopardize this form of intersubjective stability and, when this kind of ‘trouble’ appears, how might speakers go about sustaining these anomic features. In order words, how do speakers go about maintaining assumptions of intersubjectivity when evidence points to the contrary? One of Garfinkel’s (1963) experiments demonstrated a breach in the congruency of relevances. For the experiment, Garfinkel’s students were asked to engage a friend or acquaintance in conversation and, at some point in the conversation, to ask their interlocutor to explain or clarify their “common sense remarks.” In the following example, taken from Garfinkel (1963: 222), it is shown how an unexpected response to a greeting yields considerable confusion on the part of the greeter (S=subject; F=experimenter): Case 6. The victim waved his hand cheerily (S) “How are you?” (F) “How am I in regard to what? My health, my finance, my school work, my peace of mind, my . . . ” (S) (Red in the face and suddenly out of control.) “Look! I was just trying to be polite. Frankly I don’t give a damn how you are.”

By responding to S’s greeting with How am I in regard to what?. . . , F is suspending the assumption that S is producing an utterance whose meaning can be inferred for all practical purposes. F treats S’s greeting as somehow incomplete and in need of further specification. Through F’s response, S notices that F is not treating the greeting as an object that “anyone can see” but as an ambiguous action that needs clarifying. It is because F does not orient to the typicality of the greeting that then produces S’s outrage (i.e., Frankly I don’t give a damn how you are.). Garfinkel also found that Ss would find Fs morally accountable for not adhering to the expected natural attitude. Ss would often demand to

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know why Fs were not orienting to them in the ‘usual’ way. Consider another example from Garfinkel (1963: 221): Case 3. On Friday night my husband and I were watching television. My husband remarked that he was tired. I asked, “How are you tired? Physically, mentally, or just bored?” (S) “I don’t know, I guess physically, mainly.” (F) “You mean that your muscles ache, or your bones?” (S) “I guess so. Don’t be so technical.” (S) (After more watching) “All these old movies have the same kind of old iron bedstead in them.” (F) “What do you mean? Do you mean all old movies, or some of them, or just the ones you have seen?” (S) “What’s the matter with you? You know what I mean.” (F) “I wish you would be more specific.” (S) “You know what I mean! Drop dead!”

F’s continuous requests for clarification (i.e., How are you tired? What do you mean?) yield, in turn, demands for explanation and admonishments from S (i.e., What’s the matter with you? You know what I mean.). By demanding an explanation from F, S implies that F is not orienting to S’s utterances as understandable for the situation at hand and demands that she account for not adhering to this natural attitude. For Garfinkel, this experiment shows that more than merely creating confusion or incomprehensibility, not adhering to the natural attitude is morally sanctionable and is oriented to as such. The recognition that certain kinds of social actions are oriented to as accountable opens up further speculations on the nature of social action and social organization. Three central issues that arise from these speculations are the indexicality of expressions, reflexivity and the documentary method of interpretation (Garfinkel 1967: 4). .. Indexicality of expressions The concept of indexicality has its roots in philosophical or truth-conditional approaches to language (see Levinson 1983 for a comprehensive overview of deixis). The main idea being that some terms, pronouns in particular, are resistant to truth-conditional assignments since their reference is opaque. Take as an example the utterance, I am hungry. The truth of this statement will depend on who is speaking and when it is being uttered. The meaning of indexicals, therefore, cannot be separated from their context of use. Garfinkel’s

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approach to indexicality was not truth-conditional but rather action oriented. He argued against the claim that there exist certain non-indexical or objective forms of language. Because all expressions are uttered within a context of use, at a specific time and directed at an addressee or addressees, what these expressions come to mean for the interactants will very much depend on these contextual features. An example taken from Schegloff (1984: 35) illustrates how an utterance’s meaning is negotiated in the sequential context in which it is embedded: (2:1) W: Why don’t you come and see me sometimes. A: I would like to.

Although W’s utterance appears in interrogative mood, it is not oriented by next speaker as a question that implicates an explanation but as an invitation. Because expressions are indexical, they carry with them an open horizon of meanings. It is when they are situated in a context that the expression’s open horizon of meanings becomes narrowed and that they ‘acquire’ meaning. .. Reflexivity The central idea behind reflexivity is that social actions and norms do not stand apart from their situations of use (i.e., actions do not merely describe and norms do not merely ‘cause’ beahaviour) but are constitutive parts of the activities in which they are embedded. For example, let us once again consider Ex. (2:1). W’s wh-interrogative sets up the interactional scene by placing A in a situation of choice. That is, W’s action reflexively constitutes the interaction that both W and A find themselves in by setting up the expectation that A responds to W’s action. A’s response, in turn, reflexively reconstitutes the interaction by orienting to W’s wh-interrogative as an invitation. Had A provided a response that began something like well, because I . . . then A’s response would have been heard as an explanation and W’s as a request for an explanation. Therefore, the interaction becomes reconstituted irrespective of A’s particular response. Heritage (1984: 106) makes the similar point that normative frameworks reflexively constitute social actions. His point is that norms should not be viewed as regulating activities but as a constitutive part of the actions they are associated with. Norms provide an interpretive framework with which to make sense of the next action and also, to provide for sanctions if departures from the expected range of responses occur. Returning to Ex. (2:1), the norm that an-

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swers follow questions or acceptances/refusals follow invitations provides for an interpretative framework for making sense of responses. If, for instance, W had expected an explanation, W might have oriented to A’s acceptance as infelicitous. Such was the case in Garfinkel’s breaching experiments in which the greeting How are you? was oriented to as a question requesting information and not as a greeting. Such deviations from normative frameworks require accounts for why the respondent has deviated. The norm also allows for inferencing if no response follows an action. If a greeting is not followed by a return greeting it is rarely the case that the greeter will just think nothing. The greeter will most likely make an inference such as “She didn’t hear me” or “Why is she still mad at me?” or “Did I do something to upset her?” Because of this, all actions (or non-actions) are potentially interpretable and therefore meaningful. .. Documentary method of interpretation Garfinkel (1967: 31) claims that the interpretive work used to achieve common understandings has an “inner” temporal course. Our practical activities, reasonings and understandings are therefore contingent accomplishments that continuously evolve over time. In this way, social actions are constantly reflexively constituting and reconstituting the activities that shape and are shaped by them. When uttered in the stream of interaction, the indexicality of expressions both orients to the contextual features of the surrounding interaction and also adds to these contextual features. It was noted previously that normative frameworks such as greetings follow greetings, answers follow questions, etc. are a constitutive part of the organization of social actions. Norms do not regulate what is to follow but enable interpretations of subsequent actions. Garfinkel also devoted attention to another kind of interpretive practice that is used to maintain and construct a sense of the activity in which speakers find themselves in. This Garfinkel (1967: 78) termed the documentary method of interpretation: The method consists of treating an actual appearance as “the document of,” as “pointing to,” as “standing on behalf of ” a presupposed underlying pattern. Not only is the underlying pattern derived from its individual documentary evidences, but the individual documentary evidences, in their turn, are interpreted on the basis of “what is known” about the underlying pattern. Each is used to elaborate the other.

From this definition, one can readily see the parallels between the documentary method and speakers’ use of typicality and common sense knowledge. That is,

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speakers, when confronted with an object of perception (i.e., an object in the world or a social action), apply their common sense knowledge for what might typically be the case to make sense of the object. This, however, does not mean that objects of perception are, in the first place, mapped onto a pre-existing underlying pattern. For Garfinkel, the object(s) of perception (i.e., instances) construct the pattern and are interpreted on the basis of some pattern. This becomes understandable if patterns are thought of in the phenomenological sense of typicality. Patterns are not complete but are instead incompletely specified categories of objects or experience. Therefore, patterns need to be applied in situated contexts of use to be ‘filled-in.’ The interpretive process, however, also works in the reverse direction. Objects of perception are also made sense of in relation to their typicality; that is, in terms of the pattern. To clarify how the documentary method works, Garfinkel (1967: 79) conducted an experiment that professed to be “an alternative means to psychotherapy.” Some of the unusual conditions of the experiment were that subject and ‘adviser’ (not really the adviser but the experimenter) were not in the same room but communicated via an intercom system and that the subject was to receive replies from the adviser in the form of ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Therefore, only yesno questions could be directed to the adviser. A minimum of ten questions was asked by the subject and following each response from the adviser, the subject would comment on the adviser’s response. Prior to the subject’s arrival, the adviser randomly constructed a list of yes/no answers and this list was used to respond to each subject’s questions. In other words, the ‘answers’ to the subjects’ questions were determined randomly in advance. Garfinkel found that rather than orienting to these responses as random or as incoherent, subjects oriented to the list of answers as actual instances of advice-giving. So, the individual yes-no responses were always interpreted in terms of an underlying pattern of advice. When, however, an unexpected response occurred, the subject would use that instance and the previous responses to construct a different pattern of advice. Put differently, when the response fit the pattern, the response was taken as an instance of what the subject assumed was the pattern of advice. When the response did not fit the pattern, a new pattern of advice had to be worked out. In order to do this, the subject had to search back to the past instances to re-work the pattern, to impute the adviser with knowledge and intentions or to entertain the possibility that the subject’s question contained additional meanings. The ethnomethodological theory of action, with its focus on the indexicality of expressions, the reflexive properties of social action, speakers’ orientations to the natural attitude and speakers’ documentary practices, paved

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the way for more detailed analyses and descriptions of what speakers’ social practices include. One group of researchers in particular began to address the central role of social actions in social organization: conversation analysts. It is to this line of research and the basic assumptions underlying this work that I now turn to.

. Conversation analysis (CA) The founder of CA, Harvey Sacks, became interested in analyzing conversation, not because of any specific interest in language per se but because of the availability of tape-recorded data. . . . the kind of phenomena I deal with are always transcriptions of actual occurrences in their actual sequence. But my research is about conversation only in this incidental way: that conversation is something that we can get the actual happening of on tape and that we get more or less transcribed; that is, conversation is simply something to begin with (lecture 2, fall 1968). (Sacks 1984: 25–26)

What is perhaps ironic is that conversation as “simply something to begin with” became one of the main cornerstones of conversation analytic theory. That is, conversation eventually came to be seen as the central constitutive feature of social organization. However, before delving into some of the basic CA assumptions, I provide a brief background to CA. Harvey Sacks was a student of Erving Goffman and also had worked together with Garfinkel on a number of research projects (see Schegloff 1992a for a brief overview of Sacks’ academic career). The influence of Goffman and Garfinkel was undoubtedly a profound one. For instance, in 1964, Goffman published an article arguing for the centrality of face-to-face interaction in social organization. Similarly, Garfinkel had also begun his writings on “Studies in Ethnomethodology” in the mid-sixties (to which Sacks had access) in which speakers’ practices and use of common sense knowledge were central topics. As argued by Schegloff (1992a), however, the influence was a mutual one and so it is difficult to determine the degree of influence that either Goffman or Garfinkel actually had on Sacks. Nonetheless, Sacks’ research program developed into a unique approach in which, incidental or not, actual tape-recorded instances of language-in-use were regarded as the prime data for examining social organization. Sacks’ theoretical and methodological developments were published in 1992 as a series of lectures on conversation. These lectures are, for

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the most part, transcribed tape-recordings of his lectures that spanned from 1964 to 1972. The extensive range of Sacks’ work can not be summarized here but instead, I restrict this coverage of CA largely to Heritage’s (1984: 241) distillation of CA theory down to three fundamental assumptions: 1. interaction is structurally organized; 2. contributions to interaction are contextually oriented; 3. these two properties inhere in the details of interaction so that no order of detail can be diminished, a priori, as disorderly, accidental or irrelevant. The first assumption is that social organization involves the organization of social action. The observation that answers tend to follow questions or that acceptances tend to follow invitations are examples of such organizations. For CA, the relevance of such organizations is not statistical invariance but, following ethnomethodology, how these organizations reflexively constitute the settings that they are an integral part of and how these organizations are normatively oriented to. The central goal of CA research, therefore is not to determine with what frequency certain actions co-occur but to provide “. . . the description and explication of the competences that ordinary members use and rely on in participating in intelligible, socially organized interaction” (Heritage & Atkinson 1984: 1). The second assumption is that social action is doubly contextual; that is, every social action is shaped by the prior interaction (context-shaped) and plays a fundamental role in reshaping the interactional context (contextrenewing). This assumption bears much resemblance to Garfinkel’s discussion of reflexivity. There it was argued that social actions reflexively constitute the activities in which they are embedded. In this way, the ‘doing’ of a social action within an activity assists in redefining or reconstituting the activity. What this point stresses is the contingent and ongoing accomplishment, action by action and turn by turn, of social activities. The third and last assumption is that social actions come in certain actionor turn-shapes and that any or all features of a turn’s shape may play a role in the doing of the action or in reconstituting the activity. Therefore, no detail of the interaction (i.e., pauses, false starts, preface markers such as well, um, okay) should, a priori, be excluded from the analysis. It is for this reason that CA analyses insist on taking as their data tape- or video- recorded interaction. Recollections of interactions or invented examples are avoided because people do not have the kind of intuition that enables them to reproduce the fine detail of interaction.

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Proceeding from this general discussion of CA theory, I now turn to some of the more explicit claims that take into account conversational organization and interactants’ orientations to this organization. These issues are addressed under the headings of action sequences, intersubjectivity and context. .. Action sequences When conversation analysts speak of social organization they stress the contingently co-accomplished nature of this organization. How interactions unfold is therefore dependent on the turn-by-turn development of the interaction and not on regulatory rules that govern who says what, when and how (Sacks, Schegloff, & Jefferson 1974). Falling back on ethnomethodology yet again, since social actions are reflexive, they are constitutive of the activities in which they occur. And yet, although social actions are not regulated by rules, they are in a sense constrained by prior actions. What does this mean? Schegloff and Sacks (1984[1973]: 74 fn. 6) claim that utterances sequentially implicate a range of possible next actions. They define sequential implicativeness as follows: By ‘sequential implicativeness’ is meant that an utterance projects for the sequentially following turns(s) the relevance of a determinate range of occurrences (be they utterance types, activity types, activities, speaker selections, etc.). It thus has sequentially organized implications.

Sequential implicativeness has its strongest form in what is termed adjacency pair organization (Sacks 1992[1972]). Adjacency pairs refer to paired social actions such as greeting-greeting, question-answer, invitation-acceptance and blame-denial. The claim being made here is that the production of a first pair part (e.g., question) makes relevant the production of a second pair part (e.g., answer). This observation that second pair parts tend to regularly follow first pair parts does not merely have statistical relevance. Rather adjacency pair organization is demonstrative of a normative framework; that is, adjacency pairs are examples of social structures that speakers produce and orient to “as normatively oriented-to grounds for inference and action” (Heritage 1984: 244). Although the production of a question makes it conditionally relevant (Schegloff 1972[1968]: 363) that an answer is to follow, next speaker may nonetheless refrain from producing the conditionally relevant response. What makes this framework normative is that speakers will orient to the absence of the conditionally relevant action. To illustrate this normative framework consider an example taken from Muntigl (1998) in which M (mother) orients

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to C’s (daughter) non-denial that she was involved in a drug scene (arrowed utterances point to relevant absences): (2:2) (S8: 63) 1 2 3 4 5 → 6 7 → 8 9 → 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

M: we we were afraid that you would get pulled in somehow to that drug (.8) scene. C: (As if) mom. M: so you’re not you’re not denying that there was one there. (2.0) M: are you. (2.5) M: you’re not you can’t deny it can you. (1.2) C: I can to an extent (.8) ‘cause i- its not as bad as you think it is you guys just blow it all out of proportion. (1.1) M: to me, drugs are drugs. Steve, what do you think?

This exchange begins with M expressing concern that C was entering into that drug scene. C, in turn, expresses disagreement in 04 (as if mom). So, up to this point, we can claim that M has made a statement of concern and that C has responded to this statement with a disagreement. However, it is at this point ambiguous whether C is disagreeing with the claim that she is entering a drug scene or that there is a drug scene. In 05, M orients to the latter interpretation by challenging C to deny the existence of the drug scene. By asserting that C is not denying its existence, M is orienting to C’s utterance as an admission and thereby reconstitutes the prior action sequences in 01–04 as an accusationadmission sequence instead of a statement-disagreement one. Here, therefore, is a vivid demonstration of the reflexivity of social actions at work. M’s action in 05 reflexively constitutes the activity as now one of admission to being in a drug scene and the conversational context has been renewed to pursue this line of activity. Given this redefinition of the activity to accusation, what consequences might this have for C? Recall that adjacency pairs are normatively organized. So, if someone makes an accusation, a relevant next action would be to deny the accusation. C’s next chance at denial is in line 06. Since no denial is forthcoming, M repeats her challenge twice in lines 07 and 09. M, therefore, orients to this normative framework that accusations implicate denials by pur-

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suing a response from C. The normative framework obliges C to produce some kind of response and she eventually does provide a mitigated denial in line 11. In sum, the normative framework of accusations allows M to (1) pursue a response from C if it is not forthcoming and (2) make the inference that C admits to the force of M’s accusation. Speakers who are obliged to produce a relevant response may also orient to the normative organization of action sequences. Heritage (1984: 249) claims that speakers who, for some reason, are not able to produce an expected relevant next action often provide an account for why they can not do so. Providing an account is normative because it orients to an action that will not be produced as the expected action in that context. An example of this may also be seen in Ex. (2:2). In line 11, C only weakly denies the accusation (I can to an extent) and therefore leaves the question of C’s being involved with drugs open to speculation. C’s account (‘cause i- its not as bad as you think it is) adds to this ambiguity because while it weakens M’s accusation (i.e., i- its not as bad) it simultaneously admits that there is some truth to the accusation (i.e., there may be some people who occasionally use drugs but that rarely happens so its not as bad as you think it is). Thus, because C does not provide an outright denial of the accusation, she accounts for why this is so; that is, she can not make an unmitigated denial but she can deny M’s implication that the drug scene is problematic. .. Intersubjectivity Schutz’s solution to the problem of intersubjectivity entailed, as argued above, that speakers orient to a reciprocity of perspectives. Speaker A therefore assumes, unless evidence points to the contrary, that W can adopt A’s perspective and that, for the practical purpose at hand, W’s unique biography is irrelevant. Speakers, therefore, must have some way of displaying that a reciprocity of perspectives is being maintained. Otherwise, speakers would never know when their perspectives, for the purpose at hand, are in or out of alignment. One way to address the issue of speakers’ displays of intersubjectivity would be to take a closer look at action sequences and speakers’ orientations to each others’ actions. First of all, by virtue of its sequential placement, a subsequent action is seen as responding to what came before. Returning to Ex. (2:2), when M utters we we were afraid that you would get pulled in somehow to that drug (.8) scene and C responds with (As if ) mom., C produces a disagreement and orients to M’s utterance as a statement of complaint. By producing a disagreement in the subsequent turn, C displays an understanding of M’s action as worry-

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ing or complaining. A much different form of understanding would have been displayed had C responded in the following way: (2:3) (Invented example) 01 M: we we were afraid that you would get pulled in somehow to 02 that drug (.8) scene. → 03 C: What do ya mean? My friends don’t do drugs.

In this invented example, C would have denied the implication that C is involved in a drug scene. C’s display of understanding would have been different because in Ex. (2:3), C is treating M’s action as an accusation and not merely as a statement of complaint. Next actions, therefore are a primary locus for next speaker’s display of understanding of prior speaker’s talk. And, as Heritage (1984: 254) argues, “. . . it is precisely because adjacency pair structure is a reliable and accountable template for action, that it is a reliable template for interpretation as well.” If we extend this line of reasoning that second pair parts of adjacency pairs are both reflexively constitutive of the adjacency pair and, for this reason, display an understanding of the first pair part, first speaker then has the opportunity to display his or her understanding of second speaker’s turn in the third turn. Let us consider this with respect to Ex. (2:2): (2:2) (S8: 63) 01 M: we we were afraid that you would get pulled in somehow to 02 that drug (.8) scene. 03 C: (As if) mom. → 04 M: so you’re not you’re not denying that there was one there.

I argued above that C’s disagreement oriented to M’s utterance as a statement of complaint and therefore displayed an understanding of M’s action as complaining. In line 04, M has the opportunity to ratify C’s understanding. M could have done this by uttering well parents do worry about these things y’know. Instead, M treats C’s utterance as potential admission to the accusation that C is involved in a drug scene. Furthermore, by choosing to orient to C’s utterance as an admission, M not only reflexively reconstitutes the meaning of C’s turn, but of the whole adjacency pair of which C’s turn is a part. In sum then, next turn is a powerful resource that speakers’ have available to both reflexively constitute the activity in which the turn is embedded and to display an understanding of the prior turn. In this way, intersubjectivity is displayed, negotiated or renegotiated on an ongoing, turn-by-turn basis.

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.. Context The CA position that speaker turns are context-shaped and context-renewing provides a local view of context in which context is an ongoing turn-by-turn accomplishment. Context is viewed not as exogenous to interaction but “. . . as something endogenously generated within the talk of the participants and, indeed, as something created in and through that talk” (Heritage 1984: 283). For this reason, extrasituational variables (such as culture, nationality, age, gender) are not considered as relevant resources for interpreting interaction unless it can be shown that the interactants themselves are orienting to these variables. Conversation analysts also refrain from making the claim that a setting causes certain kinds of talk. For example, types of counsellor-client interactions would not be explained in terms of the therapeutic setting (unless, of course, the physical arrangement of the room could be shown to be shaping the interaction in some way). Interactions, therefore, do not acquire some special meaning merely because they occur in therapy rooms, doctor’s offices or the law courts. However, there exists a strong intuitive sense that talk-incounselling, doctor’s offices etc. is in some way unique and different from more everyday forms of talk between acquaintances. How then can we get at these differences? Levinson’s (1992[1979]) proposal is to examine larger sequences of interaction (e.g., more than two turns) and to relate these sequences to an activity type. The main idea here is that in specialized kinds of ‘institutional’ interaction, such as counselling or cross-examination, speakers produce certain kinds of goal-oriented activities and that it is these specific activities that may provide speakers with a sense that they are in counselling or in a classroom. Levinson (1992[1979]), for instance, has observed that in cross-examinations, interactions generally proceed in a Q-A-Q-A-Q-A format. So, after having received an ‘answer’ from the witness, a lawyer tends to proceed with another question that builds on the witness’ answer. These kinds of interactional formats also appear in counselling. Consider the following example in which C claims that W’s problem (i.e., letting others down) gets her to believe that by saying no to people they will leave her (Q=Question; A=Answer): (2:4) 1 2 3 4 5 6

C:

=uh huh s: lu w when you do that the u::h the letting down tries to tries to um convince you that to:: u::m .hh to:: say no to other people means that they leave you (.) u::m right= W: =mhm=

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7 Q→ 8 9 A → 10 11 Q → 12 A → 13 14 Q → 15 A → 16 17

C:

=yeah (0.8) somebody leave you when you said that (0.8) W: no (2.0) C: does it look like they will W: no (.) C: its almost silly is in a way [isn’t it ] W: [well it is ] silly when you talk about it this way yeah

Searle (1969) makes the distinction between ‘real’ questions and ‘exam’ questions. In the former, it is presupposed that the questioner does not have and is seeking information, whereas in the latter the questioner knows the answer and wants to test some other to see if he/she knows. In Ex. (2:4), it does not appear that C is seeking information but nor does it appear that C is testing M’s knowledge. What might suggest this? The answer lies in the turns subsequent to W’s answers. In exam questions, for instance, the questioner tends to produce an evaluation of the answer such as yes or well done! (Levinson 1992[1979]: 86). For ‘real’ questions, Heritage (1984b) also found a three-part sequence. The third part, however, was not an evaluation of the answer but a change-of-state token, oh. Heritage argues that questioners will generally orient to ‘new’ information by producing an oh after or during receipt of the answer. Consider the following example in which C produces an oh subsequent to W’s answer (F=Follow-up). (2:5) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Q→ 8 9 A → 10 A → 11 F → 12 13

C:

yeah couldis there anything that Fred could do to convince you that he isn’t being let down (2.0) if he wuz tuh tell you (an all) honestly that you were deciding (.) that you don’t wanna go [(with ) ] W: [well he does ] tell me C: uh huh an does that help (1.2) W: .hhh n(hh)o because I think he’s telling me what I wanna hear (.) C: oh. so why don’t you choose to believe him (3.0)

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14 Q → 15 Q → 16 Q → 17 18 A → 19 20 21 A → 22 F → 23

are you so (ya see) ah or are you getting this idea that you must try tuh prove to yourself that .hh no matter what you do others will be let down (.) W: maybe C: uh huh (1.5) W: but I I’m (.) I’m getting better with that though I think?= C: =oh you a::re

C’s first question in line 08 asks whether F’s telling W that he is not being let down helps W. In 10, W responds with no and provides an account for the no-response (because I think he’s telling me what I wanna hear). Recall that accounts generally follow next actions that are not ‘expected’ next actions. Support for this interpretation comes from C’s oh in line 12; that is, C’s question in line 08 is designed to receive a yes response from W. W’s no, therefore, may be interpreted as new and unexpected information for C. Another questionanswer-oh sequence appears in lines 15–23, where C asks whether W is trying to prove to herself that no matter what she does others will be let down. W’s answer (lines 19 & 22) is a qualified maybe; that is, W partly agrees but claims that her behaviour is improving (I’m getting better with that though I think?). C’s oh response to W’s answer suggests two things. One, that W’s claim that she is improving is unexpected and that C’s question was designed to receive a yes-response from W. Examples (2:4) and (2:5) have shown very different organizations of Q-A sequences. In Ex. (2:5), C’s questions received ‘new’ information from W and this is evidenced by C’s production of oh. Less certain is whether C’s questions were ‘real’ questions in Searle’s sense. It seems doubtful that C’s questions of whether F’s behaviour helps W or whether W is believing more in the problem (i.e., letting others down) are information-seeking questions. It seems more likely that a yes was expected for both cases. C’s questions, as are lawyers’ questions in the courtroom, seem to sequentially implicate a certain type of answer. In Ex. (2:5), the expected answers were not forthcoming. The interaction in Ex. (2:4) proved more favourable for C. Here, C was, through a set of noproducing questions, able to demonstrate that no one will in fact leave W if she says no. It can be argued, therefore, that the questions were formulated with this goal in mind.

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In sum, it was shown from the sequential organization of talk that activities are endogenously produced and oriented to by speakers. For instance, it was through Q-A sequences that C was able to persuade W that her reasons for fearing to say no were unwarrantable. Furthermore, sequences in which clients do not produce the ‘right’ answer to support C’s line of argument end up with C orienting to W’s answer as new and unexpected information. Such larger sequences, therefore, are built up from the local organization of talk and not from some pre-determined form of therapeutic organization that counsellors and clients merely act out. The CA policy of viewing context as endogenously produced within talkin-interaction has yielded two analytic tenets that have been repeatedly promulgated by Schelgoff (1992b, 1997): Relevance and Procedural Consequentiality. Schegloff ’s aim is to provide solid and cogent warrants for an analyst’s claims for, or explanations of, social action and context. These claims, he argues, should not be positivistic – based purely on a social theory – but instead should be grounded in interactants’ orientations to their own and others social actions. For Schegloff, the problem lies in demonstrating how analysts’ categorizations or descriptions of the context can be shown to have relevance and determinate consequences for the speakers. This is a real problem, it seems to me, because without a specification of such a linkage we can end up with characterizations of context or setting which, however demonstrably relevant to the parties, do little in helping us analyze, to explain, to understand, to give an account of how interaction proceeded in the way in which it did, how it came to have the trajectory, the direction, the shape that it ended up having. (Schegloff 1992b: 111)

Schegloff ’s caveats and suggestions for warranting claims seem to be most directly aimed at those studies that take a static or exogenous view of context; that is, those views in which context merely acts on interactants by determining the way they are to interact. It also makes analysts re-think how categories such as identity, gender, age, nationality, etc. should be used in describing and explaining social action. What should have become apparent by now in my description of CA is CA’s emphasis on the local, moment-by-moment accomplishment of social interaction. Social actions such as questions/answers or contexts such as ‘counselling’ or ‘medicine’ acquire a relevance in the instance in which they are invoked and constructed by interactants. When, however, certain contexts are invoked, does that have any bearing on speakers’ interactions? Drew and Heritage (1992: 23) claim that orientations to institutional contexts manifest themselves in con-

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straints on allowable kinds of contributions and in specific inferential frameworks associated with speakers’ actions. This would mean, taking (2:4) and (2:5) above as examples, that in counselling there tends to be a kind of interactional constraint in which counsellors, not clients, are the ones who ask the questions; further, if clients would suddenly ask the counsellor what kinds of problems he or she was having the past week, this might be responded to as breaching a normative framework typically found in counselling sessions. .. Ordinary members’ competences I began the previous section on CA by stating some of CA’s fundamental assumptions and by claiming that a central goal of CA is to describe and explicate ordinary members’ competences. In ethnomethodological terms, members’ competence is equated to mastery of natural language (Garfinkel & Sacks 1986: 165). This mastery refers to speakers’ ability to ‘fill-in’ the particulars of indexical expressions by interpreting these expressions in their situations of use. Furthermore, members have knowledge of kinds of socially organized interaction and the normative frameworks associated with these interactions. Such knowledge, for instance, enables members to recognize that the second pair part to a question has not been produced and to make inferences as to why the relevant action is not forthcoming. Members therefore use this knowledge to produce social interaction and to make sense of others’ social actions. Knowledge, in this form, bears resemblance to what Schutz meant by stock of knowledge of hand. It is a kind of ‘recipe’ or ‘typical’ knowledge that is applied to situations of use. Hence, the knowledge is not applied in a complete form such as a finished script (i.e., not regulatory or determining) but is a constitutive component of the social interaction in which it is used. So far, this discussion of members’ competences has centred around the knowledge and use of action sequences (e.g., adjacency pairs). There are also two other important kinds of knowledge addressed by Sacks: knowledge of categories and knowledge of grammar. ... Knowledge of categories Schutz (1962) claimed that members’ knowledge or use of categories is characterized by typicality rather than by any finite set of features. Put simply, this means that in our interactions with the social world we, in the first instance, recognize objects of perception for their typicality. If, for instance, we see a Volkswagen Golf we will recognize this object as belonging to the category of cars because it bears resemblance to what we typically understand by ‘car’ (e.g.,

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four wheels, driver/passenger, sound of engine, braking noise, etc.). This, of course, does not mean that we are not able to name the object as Volkswagen Golf. General categories do not preclude the subsumption of more specific categories. The point is merely that we do not normally recognize objects with four wheels that travel along asphalted roads that contain one or more persons that emit light when it is dark etc. by whether or not they belong to the class of Volkswagen Golfs. Sacks’ (1992[1964–1965]: 40) interest in members’ categories centred around members’ uses of categories. Two of his central claims are that categories imply features and that features imply categories. The first claim, generally falling under the label Membership Categorization Device (MCD), is that categories are inference rich such that the use of a category will imply certain features or activities. The second claim, falling under the rubric Category Bound Activity (CBA), is that a description of an activity will generally imply a category (or set of categories) under which the activity may be subsumed. For Sacks, category use falls squarely in the area of members’ competences and members’ social activities: If we’re going to describe Members’ activities, and the way they produce activities and see activities and organize their knowledge about them, then we’re going to have to find out how they go about choosing among the available sets of categories for grasping some event. (Sacks 1992[1964–1965: 41)

Some areas of research in CA, therefore, involve the examination of instances of category use, why this category and not some other and the sequential implications of category use (see especially Antaki & Widdicombe 1998 for a series of articles addressing membership categorization). To provide a flavour of this kind of analysis, consider the following example in a counselling session in which W describes herself as a mentor (C=Membership Category; A= Category-bound Activity): (2:6) 01 C → 02 03 04 05 06 C → 07 08 09

W: I’ve two older brothers .hh and (.8) I’ve always taken i- it u- upon myse:lf to be the mentor for my sisters C: so you’re the eldest W: eldest s- sist- [d- daughter ] of five .hh F: [eldest daughter ] C: and i- you you’re the mentor [meaning ] meaning meaning what Wendy Sue W: [well I ]

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A→ A→ A→ A→ A→ A→ A→ C→ C→

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

W: .hh meaning that when they were young I wuz the one who .hh told them about menstruation for example an I wuz the one who .hh uh babysat alot? because my parents both worked .hh and u- even getting older I wuz the one that they would (call) if they had a personal problem C: so so u- u- its almost like you were um a teacher confidant and care provider W: ye::s C: um and they they were roles that you assumed in childhood

W begins this segment in 02 by identifying herself as the mentor for her sisters. Mentor is a MCD in which certain activities are implied; in particular that being a mentor involves doing specific things, such as educating others. Note that W does not elaborate upon what mentoring entails. It may be for this reason that C, in 08, questions W on what being a mentor means. In other words, C opens up the abstracted MCD ‘mentor’ by inviting W to produce an associated CBA. W then, in lines 11–16, provides three activities that link up to mentoring (see Jefferson 1990 and Potter 1996 for a discussion of 3-part lists): 1. I wuz the one who .hh told them about menstruation 2. I wuz the one who .hh uh babysat alot 3. I wuz the one that they would (call) if they had a personal problem W begins each example with I wuz the one. This emphasis on I implies exclusivity; that is, these mentoring activities are not usually shared by a group of people but generally fall under the scope of one person. Mentoring, according to W, involves telling her sisters about menstruation, babysitting them, and being the one whom they would call if they had personal problems. In sum, the abstracted meanings of the term ‘mentor’ are unpacked within CBAs in which the activities of mentoring are explicitly articulated. In 18, C reformulates W’s CBAs by transforming them, once again, into MCDs. The activities that fall under mentoring are reformulated into nominalized and abstracted membership categories. In this way, telling her sisters about menstruation gets packaged into teacher, babysitting into care provider and helping them with personal problems into confidant. A diagram of these reformulations is shown below:

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telling them about menstruation → teacher mentor → babysitting → care provider helping them with personal problems → confidant In sum, C has picked up on W’s use of the category mentor in order to unpack it into activities and to reformulate the activities back into categories. What the categories and their activities played a major part in was to provide C with the resources to reformulate W’s talk into a set of ‘positive’ categories that W fits into. Categories, therefore, are a constitutive part of the discursive practices (i.e., reformulation) in which they are used. ... Knowledge of grammar Of all the insights taken from Sacks’ lectures on conversation in CA research, perhaps the least attention is given to Sacks’ work on speakers’ use of grammar. In order to provide a more extensive explication and description of social action and social organization, I would suggest that more attention needs to be given to the role of grammar in social interaction. It is in part this neglect of the role of grammar in CA that this book seeks to remedy. I would argue that Sacks’ insights provide a good starting point for incorporating grammar into a theory of social action and also for an analysis of social interaction. Sacks addressed a good deal of his Fall 1965 lectures on a phenomenon he referred to as tying. Sacks noted that certain elements of utterances are grammatically tied to other elements in the same or in a previous utterance. One observation was that referring expression such as pronouns often refer back to nouns that were first uttered a number of turns back in the conversation (this phenomenon is taken up in functional grammar under cohesion). Another observation was that utterances are grammatically tied to previous utterances. Consider the following example of a group therapy session taken from Sacks (1992[1965]: 144–145): (2:7) Joe: (cough) We were in an automobile discussion, Henry: discussing the psychological motives for Mel: drag racing in the streets.

First of all, Sacks observed that the three utterances could be taken together as a grammatical unit in which each subsequent turn adds a grammatical unit to the prior one. Henry’s utterance, for instance, introduces a dependent clause and this transforms Joe’s utterance from a single independent clause to the main clause of a clause complex (Sacks actually refers to this as a sentence but,

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anticipating the discussion in SFL, I use the term clause complex). Henry does this by participializing the noun discussion to discussing. In this way, Henry is able to grammatically build on Joe’s clause. In the third turn, Mel also ties his utterance to Henry’s, not by adding a dependent clause but by adding a nominal group to Henry’s preposition for. At least two points are worth mentioning here. First, Sacks was able to show that next utterances, by virtue of their sequential placement, are able to transform and therefore reconstitute the prior turn. Through the grammatical operation of participializing a noun, Henry was able to change his and Joe’s utterances into a clause complex. Secondly, creating meaning is an interactive process. By tying their utterances in this fashion, the speakers present themselves as a unit or, according to Sacks, as a group. In other words, being a group does not stem from the therapist’s or the institution’s categorizations of Joe, Henry and Mel. Instead, these speakers construct a sense of group within the interaction. ‘Groupness’ is, therefore, an ongoing interactional, and in this case a grammatical accomplishment. One reason why CA research makes such little use of grammar is due to indexicality. Because of their claim that utterances acquire meaning in contexts of use, conversation analysts have been reluctant to make any systematic connections between grammatical form and meaning. Levinson’s (1983) critical review of speech act theory made explicit the problems analysts encounter when attempting to map speech functions onto grammatical forms. For example, the utterance why were you late?, although it appears in interrogative form, does not necessarily have the force of a question. It may, instead or additionally, be conveying blame or concern. Similarly, Schegloff (1984: 30) argues that social actions such as requests, questions, agreements, accusations, etc. are commonsense not technical (i.e., lexical or syntactic) categories. Schegloff suggests that rather than looking to the grammatical form, one should look at how an utterance is embedded within a sequence of actions. Utterances, whether in interrogative or declarative or some other form, are social acts of questioning only if interactants orient to the utterance as a question. This means that utterances are taken up as questions when interactants orient to the subsequent turn(s) as an answer or that an answer is forthcoming. To clarify what interactants’ orientations to preceding actions mean, consider the following two examples taken from Schegloff (1984: 35): (2:8) A: What time is it? W: It’s noon.

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(2:1) W: Why don’t you come and see me sometimes. A: I would like to.

In both examples, the mood of the clauses contained in turn 1 is whinterrogative (What time is it? vs. Why don’t you come and see me sometimes.). What is noteworthy, however, is how this identical mood structure is oriented to differently in the subsequent turn. In Ex. (2:8), W orients to A’s wh-complement (What time) by providing the time. We can therefore argue that, since W provides A with the time, W is orienting to A’s utterance as a question. Now compare this with Ex. (2:1). Here, W’s utterance also appears in wh-interrogative form. Note however that A does not respond to W’s utterance by producing the information that corresponds to the why (e.g., because I’m working seven days a week). Instead A responds with I would like to. A’s response, therefore, orients to W’s utterance as an invitation and A can be seen to be accepting the invitation. Since mood structure such as interrogative may be doing different things in different contexts, it becomes difficult to link up grammatical form and social action in any clear-cut way. It is most likely for this reason that grammar is often reduced to playing a minor role in explicating social action. Another reason might also be because CA research is not interested in language per se but in social organization (Hutchby & Wooffitt 1998: 14). Whatever the reasons for grammar’s reduced status, I see a number of problems arising if grammar is not taken into account when explicating social action. First, it becomes very difficult to conceptualize the role of language in social action. What part does language play in a member’s competence, alongside the stock of knowledge at hand, natural attitude of daily life and mastery of natural language? Second is the question of the relevant units of language; and by this I mean are turns, adjacency pairs, sequences and social actions the basic units of language, or is there more to language? Should language also include the way clauses, in terms of lexicogrammar, are organized? Third, and related to the first, is the issue of how speakers recognize the ‘meaning’ of a turn if not, at least partly, through a turn’s grammatical construction. Constraining interpretation to the level of the sequential organization of social actions prevents the analyst from ‘seeing’ grammar’s role in meaning-making. Finally, CA’s position leads to a view of grammar as arbitrarily related to social action. Indexicality is taken to imply that a grammatical construction can mean virtually anything since every different context of use will alter its meaning. The problem with this view is one of constraint. Speakers do end up interpreting social actions in

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a certain way. Furthermore, the interpretation is most often ‘understood’ and ratified by an interlocutor. How is it then that speakers can recognize other’s interpretations if meanings are not tied to form in some way? It seems to me that the only way out of this dilemma is to posit a relationship between expression and content; that is, to assume that communication is semiotically organized. Although this means that expression and content are linked, it does not mean that a certain kind of content is always realized by a certain kind of expression. Content will, to be sure, have manifold realizations. But there is a constraint. Speakers must have a way of filtering through the possible interpretations that a form can convey. To do this, they must have knowledge of the semiotic organization of language and context. Arguing for a semiotic view does not compromise indexicality. Utterances still acquire meanings from their placement in interaction. But, a semiotic view can explain why it is that speakers do not have to sift through an ‘infinity’ of possible meanings each time they encounter a social action. One approach that incorporates a semiotic view of social interaction and addresses the concerns I have mentioned above is systemic functional linguistics. This approach to social interaction will be considered in the subsequent chapter.

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Systemic functional linguistics

. Overview Before I begin my explication of SFL’s modelling of language and social context, I want to point out that Garfinkel’s ethnomethodological work and Sacks’ early studies in CA were not destined to take the trajectory that they did in the work of Schegloff and other CA researchers; at least this is my reading of it. Sacks’ work on categories could have prompted research in lexical cohesion such as hyponomy and meronomy; similarly, his work on grammar also could have spawned more interest in clause construction and the grammar’s role in realizing social action. Even Garfinkel’s work might have budded alternative research programs; for instance, his fascinating study of the documentary method of interpretation seems to have fallen on deaf ears in the CA community (for a notable exception see Goodwin’s 1994 article on Professional Vision). It is surprising that more was not made of the insight that speakers interpret instances based on patterns and use their knowledge of patterns to infer kinds of instances. Recall that pattern in Garfinkel’s experiment referred to the situation of advice-giving, whereas instance was an occasion of giving advice. My interpretation of Garfinkel’s findings is that he was starting to shed light on the relation between context of situation (i.e., counselling as an activity of giving advice) and language (i.e., counsellor utterance). Garfinkel, as should be recalled, saw context and language as mutually elaborative, not as a uni-lateral and causal relationship. Another conclusion drawn from the examination of speakers’ use of the documentary method was that they would fill in the particulars of indexical expressions – this, alongside the assumption that speakers maintain a reciprocity of perspectives and adhere to a natural attitude of everyday life (i.e., operate within commonsense situations of trust). Basically, then, two things are always happening in social interaction: First, in situations of language use, speakers are able to infer what will be said; second, from certain kinds of linguistic expressions or social actions, speakers are able to infer what situation

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Social context

Language

Figure 3.1 The bi-directional relationship of social context and language [taken from Martin 1999: 36]

they are in. Interpretive models, therefore, must include at least a language and a contextual level. These levels are depicted in Figure 3.1. Although many ‘discourse analysts’ would readily agree that language and context relate in a way that each is used to elaborate the other, there is much less consensus on how this mutual elaboration is achieved. My understanding of CA is that the relationship is based on contitutiveness: language constitutes context and context is constitutive of language. This means that language plays a central part in creating context and, by implication, context does not exist outside of social interaction. In positing this kind of relationship, conversation analysts want to emphasize language’s context-constituting role and, at the same time, how language is sensitive to the kinds of contexts that are created. With its focus on conversational sequences – turns, social actions, adjacency pairs – CA research has been able to demonstrate that language and context are mutually linked. There are, however, a number of questions that this model of language and social context does not provide adequate answers to. First of all, what sort of relationship is constitutiveness – or, in ethnomethodological terms, reflexivity? Although it was important to point out and to demonstrate that language does not stand apart from function or context, it is not clear what is to be gained by saying that language constitutes – or as others might prefer creates – contexts, norms and actions (This question of how CA’s units of language and context relate to each other has already been raised by Martin 1992: 77). Another question concerning CA theory, also posed by Martin (1992: 78), is how language is to be modelled. For ethnomethodologists, ‘member’ is equated with mastery of natural language, but no attempt is made to explicate what language is. Conversation analysts, in their examina-

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tion of interaction, devote a lot of attention to sequences, turns and adjacency pairs, yet ignore grammar. It seems odd that although CA insists that all the ‘details’ of a turn are potentially important, grammar is excluded from analysis. At the level of exchange, CA research has made a lot of important contributions, but is language’s placement within sequences the extent of how language functions? What about speakers’ descriptions or formulations of events? What can sequential organization say about that? Or, what about the way in which messages are organized in terms of what comes first and last? Again, sequential organization seems to be the wrong resource to investigate these issues. It must be stressed that I am not arguing that sequential organization is an improper focus of investigation; one cannot properly investigate social interaction by neglecting it; rather, I am suggesting that there are other language functions that should be taken into account in an analysis of social interaction. My proposal is to adopt SFL’s modeling of language and social context, and in the rest of this chapter I will explicate how SFL goes about doing this.

. Modelling language and social context In discussions of the relationship between between language and social context, SFL theory draws on a long and rich tradition of pragmatic work. Halliday (1985a: 5–9) provides a brief account of this development, noting that systematic descriptions of context began with Malinowski (1923). From his anthropological research of fishing villages in the Trobriand Islands, Malinowski coined the terms “context of situation” and “context of culture”. For the former, Malinowski found that, in order to be able to interpret speakers’ messages in Kiriwinian (the language used in the Trobriand Islands), it was necessary to know which activity (or situational environment) the speakers were engaged in. For example, during a fishing expedition, an understanding of speakers’ utterances depended upon “the way in which the people in the boats and the people on the shore were interacting with each other” (Halliday 1985a: 6). However, Malinowski (1923) also found that it was necessary to move beyond the immediate verbal context of situation, when attempting to explicate social action. For this purpose, he introducecd the term context of culture, which included a peoples’ cultural history (e.g., rituals such as ceremonies, dances, songs, etc.). It would not take long for Malinowski’s notions of context to find expression in linguistic theory. In 1935 a young colleague of Malinowski’s from London University named J. R. Firth incorporated the central idea of a ‘context of situation’ into a linguistic framework. According to Halliday (1985a: 8),

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however, “Firth found that Malinowski’s conception of the context of situation was not quite adequate for the purposes of linguistic theory, because it was not quite general enough.” This dissatisfaction led Firth (1950) to propose a general framework for describing a context of situation, one that can be used to examine texts. Firth (1950) introduced such situational variables as: (1) the participants in the situation; (2) the action of the participants; (3) other relevant features of the situation (e.g., surrounding objects); and (4) the effects of the verbal interaction (see Halliday 1985a: 8). The work of Malinowski and Firth, in turn, led to Halliday’s exceptional insight that situational features of the context are systematically related to actual occurrences of spoken and written texts. One of the ways in which Halliday approached the issue of how context relates to language was in terms of speakers’ (or writers’/readers’) ‘understandings’ of texts. For instance, in his book “Language as Social Semiotic”, Halliday (1978: 60) addressed the ethnomethodological concern of how understanding is achieved. Some of the guiding questions of Halliday’s (1978: 108) work were how “people relate the social context to the linguistic system” and how “they deploy their meaning potential in actual semantic exchanges.” Similar to Garfinkel, Halliday argued that speakers, in specific situations, seem to have certain expectations about what will be said. Of course Halliday is not suggesting that speakers will know in advance exactly what next speaker is going to say; what is implied here is that a specific social context will, using Hasan’s (1995) terminology, activate certain patterns of language choices. A social context of counselling, for instance, is going to activate a kind of interpersonal pattern in which counsellor asks questions and clients answer them. This does not mean that clients cannot ask questions or that language does not play a central part in constituting these questioneranswerer roles. This holds for both cases. It means, rather, some language choices become more probable than others when realizing context. In order to make more sense of Halliday’s model, it is important to reinterpret the relationship between language and social context proposed in Figure 3.1. In SFL, the relationship is not arbitrary but is solidary or ‘natural’. Semiotically, what this means is that language serves as the realization of and expression plane for social context. In turn, social context is the content plane for language and is a more abstract level of sociosemantic representation. Solidary relationships in SFL are predicated on the assumption that form is shaped or motivated by function; that is, patterns of language choices are shaped by types of context. SFL uses at least three different terms for describing the relationship between expression and content: realization, construal and metaredundancy. All of these terms express an interstratal relationship of content and

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expression, in which language is context’s expression plane and context is language’s content plane. The relationship is not causal in that choice of context determines choice of language; rather, the relationship is one of probability, in that a given context will make certain kinds of language choices more likely to occur. As Halliday has more recently argued, the situation is “realized” in the text. Similarly the culture is “realized” in the linguistic sytem. This does not mean that the one somehow causes the other. The relationship is not one of cause. It is a semiotic relationship; one that arises between pairs of information systems, interlocking systems of meaning. If the situation caused the text, the situation would have to exist first; and it would be impossible for the text to cause the situation – if a causes x, then x cannot also cause a. But text and situation come into being together; so whatever kind of order we set up between them, it must be such that we can start from either end. (Halliday 1999: 15)

Speakers’ interpretations of language in use can thus be explained from this model. Since social context is realized in language, instances of language use will immediately call forth a certain context of situation. Moreover, since language is the expression plane for social context, a speaker’s knowledge of the social context will enable the speaker to infer kinds of language patterns that may realize that type of context. This model would explain, for instance, speakers’ interpretation of the contexts discussed in Section 2.3.3. Knowing that the situation involves a situation of instruction or examination, one would probably expect exam questions of the type Q-A-F to occur. Or, conversely, the Q-A-F sequence would invoke a context of examination. However, in order to maintain a ‘dynamic’ account of how understanding or the negotiation of text-in-context is achieved, SFL studies emphasize that speakers do not find themselves in single, immutable contexts. As language pattens change, so then does the situation. Counselling, or any other social activity for that matter, does not involve one context. There is, instead, a constant shifting into new contexts and back into previous ones; and for this reason, any analysis of social interaction must be sensitive to these ongoing shifts. The way to identify these shifts is, for both SFL and CA, through detailed examinations of speakers’ uses of semiotic resources. Halliday’s discussion of realization shows how language and social context relate to each other and, as I will show in more detail below, how language and social context are themselves organized in this way. In Halliday and Hasan’s (2000: 208) terms, realization presupposes thickness: the stratal organization of content and expression. In the subsequent sections, I describe the way in which

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the language and social context planes are systemically organized. In doing so, I follow Martin’s (1992, 1997, 1999b) register and genre theory. Martin’s theory is an elaboration and modification of Halliday’s systemic-functional model. These models will not be compared in this book (For a comparison see Martin 1992 and for a critique of Martin’s model see Hasan 1995).

. Language A semiotic and functional description of language certainly forms one of the major cornerstones of SFL theory. In this section on language, I will focus exclusively on the language system, thereby bracketing out its relationship to social contexts or situations of use. In contrast to formal grammars, in which language corresponds to a system of rules, SFL sees language as a system of meanings or meaning potential (see Halliday 2003[1972]). From a functional perspective, the system of meanings (i.e., language) is a resource with which speakers may do things. A functional view of language is described by Martin (1992: 3) in the following three points:

Language as a resource – i. Language is a network of relationships. ii. Description shows how these relationships are inter-related. iii. Explanation reveals the connection between these relationships and the use to which language is put. For SFL, language is a meaning-making system in which speakers have choice in their selection of resources. Focus is therefore placed on what speakers might or tend to do in situations of language use. Formal grammars, in contrast, view language in terms of what speakers are required to say in order for what is said to be grammatical. Language consists of three different yet inter-related meaning making (or semiotic) systems, which include a discourse semantics, a lexicogrammar and a phonology (or graphology in writing). These language systems may also be viewed in terms of content and expressions planes, in which phonology/graphology corresponds to language’s expression plane and lexicogrammar and discourse semantics correspond to language’s content plane (Martin 1992: 20). This stratified system of content and expression is depicted in Figure 3.2.

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discourse semantics content “plane” lexicogrammar

phonology/ graphology

expression “plane”

Figure 3.2 Linguistic strata, including a stratified content plane [source: Martin 1999: 20]

In this model, lexicogrammar is realized in phonology or graphology. Furthermore, the content plane is stratified such that discourse semantics is realized in lexicogrammar. Whereas lexicogrammar focuses on clause oriented resources for meaning, ‘discourse’ semantics involves text oriented resources. It is important to note the the concept of ‘meaning’ is not relegated to the semantic stratum. Thus, ‘meaning’ resides in all parts of the language system, including the lexicogrammar and phonological strata. Furthermore, semantics and lexicogrammar are naturally as opposed to arbitrarily related to each other. This is so because, as Halliday (1994: xvii) has argued, “the form of the grammar relates naturally to the meanings that are being encoded. A functional grammar is designed to bring this out; it is a study of wording, but one that interprets the wording by reference to what it means.” A systems perspective on language in SFL is also coupled with an instance perspective. Halliday (1992: 26) refers to the relationship between system and instance as instantiation. System and instance are often compared to the difference between climate and weather. Climate is a relatively inert system that is instantiated in daily instances of weather. Moreover, instantiation is a prime site for semogenesis. As a system, climate refers to the probability that certain weather patterns will occur. Each instance of weather, however, may perturb this probability, thereby influencing the climate (i.e., system). Language also can be seen from this perspective. Language is the system or the total set of probabilities in which meaning (and hence wording and sound) may be instantiated. Every instance of language use, or text in context, will influence the system. In sum, Halliday (1992: 26) proposes that “The system is permeable because each instance redounds with the context of situation, and so

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Chapter 3 polar interrogative indicative

wh declarative

Figure 3.3 Basic indicative mood system

perturbs the system in interaction with the environment. Thus both realization and instantiation are involved in the evolution of language as a dynamic open system.” Systems in SFL are construed as networks of paradigmatic oppositions. Paradigmatic systems are ways of representing the meaning potential of language users (i.e., the options from which a speaker may choose). An example of a paradigmatic system is mood1 and is represented in Figure 3.3. If, for instance a speaker were to utter what do you think?, the Mood selected for this utterance would be, going from left to right, indicativeinterrogative-wh. In other words, selecting for indicative creates the choice of selecting for either declarative or interrogative (brackets signal an either/or selection). If interrogative is chosen, as in the example above, then another choice is opened up between polar or wh. System networks such as these provide speakers with choices that enable different kinds of grammatical realizations. In this case, it allows a speaker to choose an interrogative form in order to demand information. Another issue concerning an SFL approach to language is that grammatical structure is organized by grammatical class and grammatical function – Recall that a major aim in SFL is to account for the grammar in terms of its role in making meanings, rather than merely being able to label grammatical constituents as nominal or verbal groups. Grammatical class is represented in terms of ranking units. Moving from higher to lower rank, class units are identified as follows: clause, group/phrase and word. Functional labeling of grammatical structure, on the other hand, identifies the function of a given class unit. To provide a flavour of how function and class may be represented in a clause, consider the following utterance Steve, what do you think? taken from Ex. (2:2), line 16 (class units are in regular typeset, functional labels are in bold; nom.=nominal; gp.=group; Compl=Complement):

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Systemic functional linguistics clause Vocative

Wh/Compl

Finite

Subject

Predicator

[nom. gp.]

[nom. gp.]

[verbal gp.]

[nom. gp.]

[verbal gp.]

Thing

Thing

Finite

Thing

Event

[noun]

[wh pronoun]

[verb]

[pronoun]

[verb]

Steve

what

do

you

think?

Figure 3.4 Class and function of a clause

This constituent representation of a clause is sub-divided into group and word units such as nominal and verbal group, noun, pronoun and verb. Classes, in turn, are associated with a certain grammatical function such as Vocative, Complement, Finite, Subject, Predicator, Thing and Event. Note that there is no one-to-one correspondence between class and function. For instance, nominal groups can realize different kinds of functions. In this example, nominal groups function as either Vocative, Complement or Subject (These functions are interpersonal and are explained in more detail in 3.4.1). Although all class units realize some kind of grammatical function, these functions are not to be viewed in isolation but in relation to the other parts of the clause; that is, the configuration of all functional parts construes meaning (e.g., the Wh-complement followed by the Finite and Subject elements realizes wh-interrogative mood; a Subject/Finite ordering of the clause would have, by constrast, realized declarative mood). It is only by examining the clause as a whole that the analyst is able to determine the function of each constituent part and how these parts work together to construe meaning. Function, therefore, is always interpreted with respect to the inter-relations between clausal constituents.

. Metafunctions of language One of Halliday’s most important contributions to linguistics was his metafunctional theory of language (see Halliday 1985b). Although others before Halliday, such as Malinowski (1923) and Bühler (1934), had already proposed classifications of linguistic functions (compare Malinowski’s pragmatic and magical functions with Bühler’s representational, connative and expressive func-

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tions), it was Halliday who suggested that function is a principle organizational feature of language itself. Function for Halliday (1978: 22), however, does not mean language use – which is a term that is reserved for text-in-context – but rather a more abstract function (i.e., metafunction) that is internal to language. Metafunctions are realized along three dimensions. First, language construes human experience. In this way, language functions to construe an external and internal reality. By claiming that language construes ‘reality’, Halliday is not arguing for the existence of an objective internal or external reality; rather, he is claiming that through language interactants create a version of reality. The reality construing metafunction is referred to as ideational. Second, language enacts social relationships. It is through language that interactants enter into exchanges in which propositions and proposals, attitude, status and involvement are negotiated. The social enactment metafunction is termed interpersonal. Third, language needs to organize the way in which reality is represented and social reality is enacted. Thus language’s third metafunction is concerned with creating text or semiotic reality. This third metafunction is called textual. Halliday (1978: 139, 2002[1981]) has argued that ideational, interpersonal and textual meanings have distinct structural realizations (For an extensive overview of these structural realizations see also Martin 1995). Ideational meaning is realized in particulate form. Particulate realization means that ideational meaning is construed in terms of part/whole or part/part structures (Examples of particulate realization are found in Sections 3.4.2 and 3.4.3). Interpersonal meaning is realized prosodically. In constrast to particulate realization, prosodic realizations are not bound to constituents. Rather, prosodically realized meaning tends to spread out across structures. Finally, textual meaning is realized periodically. Textual meaning is wave-like, rising and descending along structures. The associations between metafunction, reality construal and structural realization are represented in Table 3.1. The metafunctions are not paradigmatic oppositions such that a clause will express only one of the functions. Rather, for every clause, all three metafunctions will be expressed. In order to exemplify the simultaneous expression of all metafunctions, let us examine the clause from Figure 3.4: Steve, what do you Table 3.1 Metafunctions, orders of reality and structural realization Metafunction

‘reality construal’

‘structural realization’

Ideational Interpersonal Textual

experiential reality social reality semiotic reality

particulate prosodic periodic

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think?. First, experience is construed in terms of the Process of cognition. That is, Steve is positioned as a Participant engaged in a Process in which he thinks about some Phenomenon. Second, social reality is being enacted in which the speaker positions herself as the demander of information and Steve as a source of information that the one asking the question does not have. And third, the clause is organized as being about what it is that Steve thinks. For sake of contrast, imagine if M had uttered instead (to her daughter but with Steve being co-present) Steve would agree also. In this clause, Steve is not portrayed in a Process of thinking but in a Process of agreeing; that is, experience is not construed in terms of a mental Process (i.e., Steve’s thinking), but rather in terms of his implied verbalization of agreement. Furthermore, Steve is not being asked to provide information but, through the declarative Mood of the clause, his agreement is merely being asserted. Asserting a proposition enacts a different kind of social relationship since now, Steve no longer needs to comply with M’s demand. Instead, Steve may choose to negotiate M’s proposition by either agreeing or disagreeing with it. Finally, M’s message is not organized in terms of what but in terms of Steve. In the former, experiential and social reality is organized in terms of Steve’s thoughts (i.e., what) and M’s demand that Steve articulate his thoughts. In the latter, the message is about Steve and his implied agreement. The metafunctions are not given a hierarchical interpretation such that one metafunction, say for example the ideational metafunction, takes precedence over (or is in some sense ‘more’ functional than) the other metafunctions. Language has evolved, according to Halliday (1978), in a way that, for any given instance of language use, all metafunctions come into play simultaneously. Nonetheless, in the ontogenesis of child lanaguage, it has been demonstrated that children first use protolinguistic signs that involve two social modes of engagement: action and reflection (Halliday 1992). These modes include ideational and interpersonal meanings that are realized in content-expression pairs. It is only when the child’s language begins to develop beyond the protolinguistic stage that the textual metafunction comes into play. For, the development of an ‘adult’ language is marked by the concommitant development of a grammar. As the child learns to create ‘strings’ of ideational and interpersonal meanings in dialogue, “it becomes necessary to have ways of making it clear when the same thing is being referred to over successive utterances, or signalling when a change of direction or attitude is being made, of indicating what information is assumed to be shared between the speakers and what aspects of the message should be attended to as newsworthy, and so on” (Painter 1999: 46). These functions all fall under the scope of the textual metafunction.

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In order to flesh out these metafunctional distinctions in more detail, I address each in a separate section. In keeping with SFL theory, the ideational metafunction is divided into two parts, experiential and logical. The experiential metafunction concerns reality construal in terms of the clause, whereas the logical metafunction concerns reality construal in terms of clause complexes. .. Interpersonal metafunction Although the metafunctions are given a non-hierarchical interpretation, the interpersonal metafunction seems to be given a special role alongside the other two. Returning again to child ontogenesis, Painter (in press) has recently argued that the interpersonal metafunction provides a frame for the development of a child’s ideational resources. Painter refers to this process as the interpersonal first principle. In this way, the negotiation of (emotionally charged) behaviour in dialogue is seen as driving forward the development of meanings across all metafunctions. The interpersonal is in this sense primary, because the development of meanings is seen as always occurring within social interaction. In order to get a handle on interpersonal meanings, we need to closely examine clause grammar. One of the main ways in which clauses work to construct social interaction is that they take part in realizing an exchange. The reason why an exchange is social is that it implies a dialogue in which interactants co-construct social reality. In its most basic forms, an exchange consists of either giving or demanding. Most generally, the exchange involves the giving or demanding of information or goods and services. Giving or demanding information is realized through such speech functions as Statements and Questions; whereas giving or demanding goods and services is done through Offers and Commands. The various types of exchange are summarized in Table 3.2. In SFL, the goods and services exchanged are called proposals. For Halliday (1994: 70), a proposal is not, in the first instance, a linguistic commodity; that is, language is not necessary in making an Offer or a Command. Children, he argues, are able to participate in the exchange of goods and services before Table 3.2 The commodity exchanged with respect to its role in the exchange Role in Exchange

giving demanding

Commodity Exchanged goods and services ‘proposals’

information ‘propositions’

Offer Command

Statement Question

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being able to realize Offers or Commands linguistically; that is, the ability to realize proposals arises independently of language. Information, by contrast, is a linguistic commodity and is exchanged by way of Statements and Questions. Our ability to exchange information therefore rests on our ability to develop semiotically. Clauses that realize Statements or Questions are termed propositions. Speech functions are realized by the grammatical system of mood. The mood system for Indicative was shown in Figure 3.3. Another component of mood is the Imperative. SFL proposes the following ‘typical’ mood realizations for speech functions: declarative for Statement; interrogative for Question; and imperative for Command – there is no one ‘typical’ realization for Offer. A speech function may, of course, be realized by a differnt mood type. Questions, for instance, can be realized by declaratives and Commands by interrogatives. In SFL, these alternative realizations are termed metaphorical. The speech functions Statement, Question, Command and Question are not the only kinds of social actions (or interacts) that may occur in social exchanges. It is certainly recognized in SFL research that speakers also greet, suggest, request, agree, blame, assess, and so on. Nonetheless these four basic speech functions represent the most general moves of social exchanges. At more delicate levels, however, speakers may be seen as suggesting, blaming, assessing, etc. Furthermore, since actions occur within exchanges, it is also important to examine the reponse to an action (see Halliday 1994: 69). The Mood of a clause consists of two parts: Subject and Finite – note that mood refers to the grammatical system, whereas Mood refers to part of the clause. The Subject is generally realized as a nominal group and may be repeated in pronoun form in the tag (e.g., you can’t deny it, can you /*it?) and the Finite is a verbal operator that expresses tense or modality (Halliday 1994: 72). To show an example of how the Mood changes from one speaker turn to the next, consider the following Q-A sequence, taken from Ex. (2:5): (3:1) (A08P1) Q → 08 C: 09 A → 10 W: 11

uh huh an does that help (1.2) .hhh n(hh)o because I think he’s telling me what I wanna hear

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C:

does Finite Mood W: I think he Modality Subject Mood

that help Subject Residue ’s telling me what I wanna hear Finite Residue

C’s clause in line 08 contains a Mood structure in which Finite precedes Subject. This ordering of the Mood elements is characteristic of interrogative Mood.2 Declarative Mood, on the other hand, has a Subject ^ Finite ordering, where ‘^’ stands for ‘is followed by’. W’s response in line 10 is an example of this. That part of the clause that comes after the Mood is termed the Residue. Note that W’s I think has not been analyzed in terms of Subject-Finite. Halliday (1994: 354) refers to structures such as I think or I believe that as interpersonal metaphors of modality. These metaphors contribute to the Mood structure of the proposition by introducing probability (compare with: he’s probably telling me what I wanna hear). The Mood, consisting of some ordering of Subject/Finite, is that part of the clause that is negotiable. In W’s turn, I think he’s telling me what I wanna hear, the part of the proposition that is negotiable is he’s and not I think. This becomes clear if a moodtag is added to the proposition: “I think he’s telling me what I wanna hear isn’t he? / *don’t I?”. In addition, it is unlikely that W’s thinking would be refuted or agreed to in a next turn: W: I think he’s telling me what I wanna hear C: *no you don’t/ *yes you do

A response such as no he isn’t or yes he is would, however, be perfectly acceptable. Negotiation, therefore, tends to centrally involve the content of the Mood element; that is, the Subject, tense and modality (i.e., Finite) of the proposition. Although I think tends to be used as an interpersonal metaphor of Mood in dialogue, it may nonetheless be given a congruent rather than a metaphorical reading. If, for instance, the discussion centred around W’s thoughts, what W thinks would then have become negotiable. Moreover, there is nothing preventing someone from interpreting I think as congruent, especially if an interactant wishes to be facetious or ironic. Also important for understanding negotiability or arguability are the interpersonal resources of polarity and modality. In the invented exchange above, W’s statement was refuted by changing its polarity from positive to negative (I think vs. you don’t or he’s vs. he isn’t). Propositions, however, are not only

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Systemic functional linguistics probability modalization usuality modality obligation modulation inclination

Figure 3.5 modality system

realized as positive or negative but as something in between. The space between positive and negative is referred to as modality. For Halliday (1994: 357), “modality refers to the area of meaning that lies between yes and no – the intermediate ground between positive and negative polarity.” In addition, modality is realized through modalization if information is exchanged and modulation if goods and services are negotiated. Modalization refers to the degree of probability or usuality associated with a proposition; and Modulation refers to the degree of obligation or inclination associated with a proposal. The modality system is represented in Figure 3.5. Modality is expressed along a continuum of what is or is not the case (i.e., information) or of what is or is not done (goods-&-services). Probability, for example, is constructed along the continuum certainly-probably-possibly and Obligation along required to-supposed to-allowed to. Halliday (1994: 359) recognizes another category of modality, Ability/Potentiality. This category is argued to be at the fringes of the modality system since it may, in certain contexts, be interpreted as inclination. For this reason, Halliday proposes the more general category of ‘readiness’, which subsumes both inclination and ability. Traditional work in semantics has often treated epistemic modality (modalization in SFL) as truth-conditional in which speakers utter propositions in relation to their truth status (cf. Lyons 1977); that is, speakers highly committed to the truth of their proposition will use modal expressions such as certainly, must (be the case), surely, definitely, etc. A low commitment to truth will, on the other hand, appear with modal expressions such as might, maybe or perhaps. Recent work by P. White (2003), however, has challenged the primacy of giving epistemic modality a truth-conditional reading. White suggests instead that epistemic modality plays a significant role in negotiating heteroglossia in texts. The term heteroglossia is taken from Bahktin (1981) and refers to the degree to which other speaker positions or voices (real or imagined) are taken up, or anticipated, within a text. Returning to Ex. (3:1), in terms of modality I

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think realizes low probability. It is doubtful, however, that W uses I think to signal the degree to which she is committed to her proposition. Instead, W may be seen as opening up a dialogic modal space within which her addressee(s) may negotiate her claim. As a last point, I address the way in interpersonal meaning is structurally realized. It was argued above that interpersonal meaning is realized prosodically. According to Martin (1995: 10), “prosodic realization refers to the way in which a particular kind of meaning spreads out across a structure, coloring the unit as a whole.” To illustrate how interpersonal meaning may be prosodically realized, consider Ex. (3:2), taken from a counselling session, in which W uses high usuality to describe her husband F (interpersonal meanings under investigation are set in italics). (3:2) (A08P1) 06 W: Fred is a: uh 07 he likes to lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject 08 [[that he feels even mildly uh uh y’know 09 animated abou::t]] 10 he likes to lecture 11 and and go on and on and on and on about it .hh

The interpersonal meaning of high usuality is spread across W’s clauses. For instance, likes to lecture implies that one is inclined to lecture and that, in all probability, one does it with some regularity. Furthermore, usuality is intensified through repetition of clausal elements. First, lecturing is not done on any subject but on any: any subject (even mildly also adds to usuality). Second, usuality is intensified through repetition of the verbal group: and and go on and on and on and on about it. Here, repetition signals the duration and intensity of F’s lecturing. The relevance of the interpersonal metafunction for analyzing counselling should be evident; for, we want to be able to describe how clients and counsellor are exchanging interpersonal meanings (i.e., social actions) through various selections of Mood and modality. Also important for analyzing social interaction is how speakers are construing experience. It is to the experiential metafunction that we now turn.

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.. Experiential metafunction The functional aspect of language that has probably received least attention in CA, but considerable attention in SFL, is the experiential metafunction. From an ideational perspective, language may be seen as a theory of experience: What the grammar does, in its ideational guise, is to transform human experience into meaning. The grammar construes a universe of things and relations, imposing categories on our perceptions of phenomena; in other words, it sets up a theory of experience, modelling the immensely complex interaction between the human organism and its environment. . . What the grammar does is to impose a categorisation: it treats a certain cluster of phenomena as alike in certain respects, and hence sets this cluster apart from others which it treats as being different. (Halliday 1998: 186–187)

Halliday (1994) models the representation of human experience along three levels: Process, Participant and Circumstance. These three parts make up the experiential components of a clause and is referred to by Halliday (1994: 106) as the transitivity system. The first and most central level, Process, groups experience into three broad classifications of goings-on; namely, human experience is seen either in terms of doing, sensing or being. At the second level, Participant, each Process is associated with at least one central Participant who takes part in the Process. The third level, Circumstance, refers to semantic features such as Spatial, Manner, Cause, Role, etc. that are associated with the Process. In sum, clauses contain a type of Process that involves one or more Participants and that may or may not be associated with one or more Circumstances. Moreover, the structural realization of experiential meaning is particulate. Process, Participant and Circumstance are the parts that make up the whole experiential meaning of the clause. In order to see how these experiential categories may be mapped onto a clause, consider line 7 from Ex. (1:4): (1:4) (A08P4) 7 C: =that you sat in the car (.) with Fred=

The Process of this clause is sat. Generally associated with sitting is someone who is doing the sitting. This is the Participant of the Process and is realized, in this example, by the pronoun you. The rest of this clause expresses information to do with Location (i.e., in the car) and Accompaniment (i.e., with Fred). These are the Circumstances of the clause. Each of these levels contain their

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own intricate category networks. These are explained below beginning with Process. ... Processes Clauses were argued to fall into one of three general categories: doing, sensing and being. Halliday (1994: 108) differentiates these categories further by expanding each of the categories so that they subsume more delicate meanings. Through this category expansion, material and behavioural fall under doing, mental and verbal fall under sensing and existential and relational fall under being. In addition, relational Processes are further expanded into attributive and identifying. Slightly modifying Martin’s (1996: 330) process system network, this categorization appears as in Figure 3.6. These Process types are realized by verbal groups. It is important to point out that Halliday’s Process categories are, in additon to being functional categorizations, based on grammatical criteria (Martin 1996: 337). So, for example, one difference between material and mental Processes is reflected in how they realize the unmarked ‘present’. We use the present-in-present for material Processes (i.e., He’s playing not *He plays) and the simple present for mental Processes (i.e., He sees not *He’s seeing). Halliday has a list of grammatical tests for distinguishing these six Process types, but they will not be reviewed in any detail here (see Martin, Matthiessen, & Painter 1997: 115–130 for a comprehensive summary of these tests). In Table 3.3 I provide example clauses of each Process type. Example clauses are taken from the counselling transcripts.

material doing behavioural verbal CLAUSE

sensing mental attributive relational being

identifying existential

Figure 3.6 Basic process system

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Material Processes are Processes of doing, creating or happening. Lexical realizations of this Process include sitting (as shown in Table 3.3), building, hitting and boiling. Behavioural Processes refer to physiological or psychological behaviour (Halliday 1994: 139). Examples include looking, staring, laughing, talking, yawning and sleeping. Mental Processes are Processes of thinking, feeling and seeing. It should be emphasized that by ‘mental’ Halliday does not mean to imply that these Processes are actually occurring inside one’s head. ‘Mental’ is merely a cover term used to express the grammar’s way of construing Participants as sentient. Some lexical realizations of mental Processes are pleasing, thinking and hearing. Verbal Processes are, as the name suggests, Processes of saying. Common examples are saying, asking, telling, promising and demanding. Relational Processes refer to the state of being. Attributive and identifying relational Processes are most commonly realized by the verb to be. However, other forms such as become, remain, seem, appear, sound and smell also may be used relationally (Halliday 1994: 120). Attributive and identifying clauses may also construe possession or circumstance. Possession is often realized by have or belongs to and circumstance by a relational Process followed by a circumstantial element (e.g., the book is on the table). The final Process, existential, refers to something existing or happening and is typically realized by the word there and the verb to be. The Process system network has been given a typological description. Martin (1996: 364) defines typological description as “concerned with classification; it categorises phenomena into oppositions, with phenomena either belonging into a category set or not.” So, a typological interpretation of Figure 3.6 would mean that Processes can either be mapped onto doings, sensings or beings but not to a combination of choices. However, as Halliday (1994: 138) has shown, behavioural, verbal and existential Processes do not belong solely to one of the three categories but to a combination of them. Behavioural ProTable 3.3 Process types Process type

Example clause (Processes in bold)

material behavioural mental verbal relational:attributive relational:identifying existential

that you sat in the car (.) with Fred we’ve talked for perhaps half an hour or so you possibly thought some of this wuz a good idea then she said I can’t do this you are a fighter so in here the person isn’t the problem there were mo:re little things that would come up

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cesses, for example, share characteristics with material and mental Processes, while verbal Processes share characteristics with mental and relational Processes. Martin (1996: 364) argues for the necessity of including topological description in the categorization of Processes: “Topological description. . . is organised around proto-types; it associates phenomena with cores, with phenomena treated as more or less closely associated with each other.” It is for this reason that Processes should not be treated as belonging exclusively to one or the other category. Rather, consideration should also be given to whether a certain Process might also share features with some other category. ... Participants Co-occurring with each Process is at least one nuclear Participant. Participants tend to be realized by nominal groups and are associated with a Participant role whose function is dependent on the Process that they are associated with. Shown in Table 3.4 are the nuclear Participant roles associated with each Process type. The canonical material clause contains an Actor and a Goal. The Actor is the one who performs the action and the Goal is the entity that is impacted by the action. Behavioural clauses contain one Participant, the Behaver. Mental Processes include a Senser and a Phenomenon. The Senser is the one who is involved in conscious processing, whereas the Phenomenon is that which is being sensed. Verbal clauses also contain two Participants, a Sayer who verbalizes and a Verbiage that expresses the content of the verbalization. It should be noted that both mental and verbal clauses often do not contain a second Participant. The reason for this is that these clauses tend to project ideas and locutions in separate clauses (for a discussion of projection see Section 3.4.3). Relational clauses contain two Participants. If attributive, the Participants are Carrier and Attribute and if identifying they are Token and Value. The ParTable 3.4 Process types and nuclear participants Process type

Nuclear participant

Example (Participant in bold)

material behavioural

Actor, Goal Behaver

mental verbal relational:attributive relational:identifying existential

Senser, Phenomenon Sayer, Verbiage Carrier, Attribute Token, Value Existent

an it pulls me: you talked about the communication difficulties I really like the non-lecturing you maybe even said that I wuz unemployed so she wuz the only bread winner so there is some agreement

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ticipant roles of relational clauses are discussed in more detail in Chapter 5 on Reformulations. The final clause, existential, contains only one Participant, the Existent. ... Circumstances Circumstances refer to those pieces of ideational information that express the where, when, how, why, etc. of the goings-on. They are realized by either prepositional phrases or adverbial groups. Table 3.5 provides some examples of Circumstance types derived from the counselling data. Temporal Circumstances express temporal duration or a specific instance in time and Spatial Circumstances express distance and location. Manner Circumstances respond to the question “how?”. Subcategories of Manner include means, quality or comparison. A Circumstance of Cause responds to the question “why?” and includes such subcategories as reason, purpose and behalf. Role corresponds to attribution or identity and Accompaniment tends to respond to the question “together with?” (For a detailed discussion of the various circumstance types in English see Halliday 1994: 149–158). In summary, an experiential view of clauses means that, in order to construe experience, we represent what is going on outside and inside of us by making transitivity selections consisting of a Process, Participants involved in the Process and Circumstances that provide temporal, spatial, causal, etc. information. Since language is not only functioning to enact social relationships, we need this ideational perspective on language in order to account for how people are organizing their experience. In other words, it is important not only to know whether speakers are demanding or giving information, but also whether they are formulating what happended to them in terms of doing, sensing or being. For example, there is a difference whether we say “he likes to lecture” or “he has a lecturing style.” The former construes a Participant (he) as a BeTable 3.5 Types of circumstances Circumstance type

Example (Circumstance in bold)

Temporal (when?) Spatial (where?) Manner (how?) Cause (why?)

you have been unemployed since nineteen ninety four so in here the person isn’t the problem you would like to be talked to calmly somehow or other we’re we’re withheld from doing that because of the problem but you experience Fred as a lecturer how large a part does it play in your communication with Fred

Role (what as?) Accompaniment (together with?)

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haver that participates in the behavioural process of lecturing – there is also the added feature of desideration in which he enjoys (i.e., likes) the behaviour. The latter, by constrast, involves a relational clause of possession in which the Participant carries (or is in possession of ) a lecturing attribute. Therefore, whereas the first clause construes someone as doing something (i.e., lecturing), the second clause construes someone as having a certain attribute (i.e., lecturing). The difference being that in the second clause, someone’s identity as a lecturer is being directly encoded within the relational clause grammar. There is variation in how each of us is observing what someone did or said, and we turn to language’s experiential metafunction to try and capture these sometimes subtle differences. When we reach Chapter 5 on counsellor reformulations, it will be shown how important clients’ construals and counsellor’s reconstruals of events actually are for the counselling process. .. Logical To this point, my discussion of the ideational metafunction has concentrated on the transitivity structure of individual clauses. Our construal of experience is, of course, not generally contained within a single clause. Rather, we tend to construe experience over a series of inter-related clauses. Halliday (1994) also addresses these inter-relationships between clauses, which are characterized by the logical metafunction. Through these logical connections, clauses join up to form clause complexes. Halliday (1994: 218) identifies two general types of clause complex relationships: Taxis and Logico-semantic. Taxis refers to the kind of interdependency that exists between clauses. Clauses may either bear a paratactic or a hypotactic relationship to one another. Parataxis refers to the relationship between clauses that are alike in status with one initiating and the other continuing. Clause notation used for parataxis is the numeral system (1, 2, 3. . . ). Consider Ex. (3:3) in which two clauses are in a paratactic relationship (1=initiating clause; 2=continuing clause). In contrast to experiential meaning, which is structurally realized as part/whole, logical meaning is part/part, indexing a serial progression from one clause to the next. (3:3) (A08P1) 1 W: um:: (1.0) I’ve been treated for .hh ah depression (.)an anxiety (.) .hh um: (3.5) 2 an I do have .hh suicidal thoughts

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Some commonly used paratactic conjunctive markers (of extension) include but, and, except, yet and or (Halliday 1994: 233). Hypotaxis, on the other hand, is characterized by a dependency relationship in which one clause is ‘dominant’ and the other dependent. Clause notation for hypotactic relations make use of Greek letters (α, β, γ. . . ). Now consider Ex. (3:4), which illustrates two clauses in a hypotactic relationship (α=dominant clause; β=dependent clause): (3:4) α C: u::m wha what happens tuh you β when when Fred responded the way he responds.

Some typical hypotactic conjunctive markers include as, while, after, as far as, as if, because, so that, if and although (Halliday 1994: 237). In addition to being interdependently linked to one another through parataxis or hypotaxis, clauses are also related to each via logical meanings. These logico-semantic relations that hold between clauses can be identified in terms of either (1) Expansion or (2) Projection. Expansion is further broken down into three components: Elaboration, Extension and Enhancement: Elaboration ‘i.e.’ Extension ‘and, or’ Enhancement ‘so, yet, then’

one clause expands another by elaborating on it (or some portion of it): restating in other words, specifying in greater detail, commenting, or exemplifying. one clause expands another by extending beyond it: adding some new element, giving and exception to it, offering an alternative. one clause expands another by embellishing around it: qualifying it with some circumstantial feature of time, place, cause or condition. (Halliday 1994: 220)

Ex. (3:3) above was an example of Extension. W’s statement of her being treated for depression was expanded by the addition of a new element (W’s having suicidal thoughts) through the conjunction and. Ex. (3:4) was an example of Enhancement. Through the conjunction when, a temporal relationship is constructed in which F’s responses are seen as being immediately prior to something happening to W. An example of Elaboration is shown below in Ex. (3:5): (3:5) α W: .hh (.) my office:: uh moved from ((name of town1)) β which is just down the road .hh to ((name of town2))

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In this example, the elaborated clause in line 02 specifies in greater detail the location of the office (i.e., just down the road .hh to ((name of town2)). The other type of logico-semantic relation is Projection. With this type of relation, the projected clause is either (1) a Locution or (2) an Idea. Locutions are projected by verbal Processes and Ideas through mental Processes. Below is an example of a Locution (Ex. 3:6) and an Idea (Ex. 3:7): (3:6) (A08P1) 1 F: and you say 2 oh my god I can’t talk tuh Pat the way I feel (3:7) (A08P1) α F: I think (3.0) β that she r- she doesn’t like (1.5) anything uh (0.8) confrontational.

In Ex. (3:6), F projects the wording of what W says, the Locution, in a separate clause (oh my god I can’t talk tuh Pat the way I feel). In Ex. (3:7), F projects a meaning, what he thinks, in a dependent that-clause (that she r- she doesn’t like (1.5) anything uh (0.8) confrontational.). .. Textual metafunction The final metafunction, textual, is responsible for organizing ideational and interpersonal meaning into a cohesive and relevant text. Textual meaning, through the realization of Theme and New, moves across the clause in a periodic wave-like fashion. As Martin (1991a: 111) explains, This periodic pattern can be illustrated by considering the complementary foregrounding of Theme and New in the English clause. In English, Theme is realised in the first position and realises the speaker’s angle on his message – her point of departure as it were. New information on the other hand is realized through intonation: basically a group’s tonic syllable, which carries its major pitch movement, signals the culmination of the group or phrase which is being marked as New – with New extending indefinitely left from this position.

That part of the clause occurring after the Theme is known as the Rheme, which develops the part of the message introduced by the Theme. The theme of a clause can consist of up to three parts: (1) Textual Theme; (2) Interpersonal Theme; and (3) Topical Theme (Halliday 1994: 53–54). In English, Themes occur in first position. Furthermore, all themes must contain a Topical

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Table 3.6 Theme-rheme structure Theme Textual 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 0809 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Rheme Interpersonal Topical Fred

as if because and

yet for .hh did

that .hh .hh if

17

.hh would

you it it you you hh you

seem somewhat resigned to unemployment ran in your family wuz your lot to lack ambition and drive could thucould do nothing about it have been unemployed since nineteen ninety four you seem ambitious in another way you have become fifty percent more understanding of Wendy Sue you have to work at being more understanding what is your ambit- ambition here (1.0) you did say you could appreciate Wendy Sue’s niceness more have an ambition here too you were to appreciate her niceness more how would this have you l- lecturing her differently Wendy Sue appreciate this appreciation

Theme, which is the first ideational component of the clause. Textual themes are realized by continutives (discourse markers such as well, oh, yes, no), conjunctions (and, but, so) and conjunctive adjuncts (that is, at least, in any case). Interpersonal themes are realized by vocatives (Steve, you there), modal adjuncts (probably, usually, in my opinion, at first) and finite verbal operators or wh-interrogatives (did, could, are, what, when). The scope of the textual metafunction can be best illustrated when larger segments of texts are examined. As an example consider Table 3.6, which shows the Theme-Rheme structure of the clauses from Ex. (3:8): (3:8) (A08P2) 01 C: . . . (1.0) Fred you seem somewhat resigned to unemployment 02 as if because it ran in your family 03 it wuz your lot to lack ambition and drive 04 and you could thu05 you could do nothing about it 06 .hh you have been unemployed since nineteen ninety four 07 yet you seem ambitious in another way

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08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

.hh for you have become fifty percent more understanding of Wendy Sue .hh did you have to work at being more understanding what is your ambit- ambition here (1.0) you did say .hh that you could appreciate Wendy Sue’s niceness more .hh do have an ambition here too .hh if you were to appreciate her niceness more how would this have you l- lecturing her differently .hh would Wendy Sue appreciate this appreciation

Before turning to the thematic organization of this example, let me say a few words about the interpersonal and ideational patterns. For the former, C is primarily giving and demanding information through statements and questions. Ideationally, clients are mainly participating in relational and mental clauses. Now, although there is some interpersonal and ideational variation from clause to clause, what is most striking in this excerpt is the consistency of the topical thematic organization. The majority of clauses (10/16) are about the clients (i.e., you). In other words, the point of departure for most of C’s clauses is the client. As a consequence, the counsellor is able to develop the thematic focus on the client by providing various client attributes within the Rheme (e.g., seem somewhat resigned to unemployment, have been unemployed since nineteen ninety four, seem ambitious in another way, have become fifty percent more understanding of Wendy Sue).

. Discourse semantics In the previous section on the metafunctions of language, I have described the various ways in which language contributes to the meaning-making process, by construing experience, constructing social relationships and creating text. Although all three metafunctional modes are simultaneously deployed during instances of meaning-making, Schegloff ’s caveat addressed earlier on the procedural consequentiality and relevance of meanings has not yet been addressed in my discussion of SFL. To recapitulate, Schegloff (1992) remarked that from the vast array of explicit and implicit meanings realized in interaction and the various aspects of context that may be seen to be playing a significant role in shaping the ensuing conversation, analysts should (and ultimately must) draw from some kinds of ‘objective’ criteria with which they may decide what was

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relevant for the interactional participants. Saving issues of context for a subsequent section, we need some way of determining which linguistic meanings are being foregrounded by interactants on a turn-by-turn basis. In this section, I argue that Martin’s (1992) discourse semantics provides such a framework that allows analysts to identify these relevant or foregrounded meanings. Martin’s discourse semantic level draws largely from Halliday and Hasan’s (1976) concept of cohesion. One impetus for introducing cohesion was to move beyond the level of the clause. Important for this project was their definition of text. For Halliday and Hasan text does not refer to spoken or written (or other) forms of communication and nor is it a grammatical unit comparable to a clause or sentence. Rather, in Halliday and Hasan’s (1976: 2) words: A text is best regarded as a semantic unit: a unit not of form but of meaning. Thus it is related to a clause or sentence not by size but by realization, the coding of one symbolic system in another. A text does not consist of sentences; it is realized by, or encoded in, sentences. If we understand it in this way, we shall not expect to find the same kind of structural integration among the parts of a text as we find among the parts of a sentence or clause. The unity of a text is a unity of a different kind.

What kind of unity are they talking about here? The parts of a text, for instance, are meaningfully linked in various ways. For texts, the relationship among its parts is not modeled on constituency but on semantic interdependency (Martin 1992: 23). Thus the quality of being a ‘unified’ text is a matter of degree. The term used to capture a text’s degree of unity is texture. The degree to which a text has texture will depend upon its internal semantic properties. Halliday and Hasan (1976: 4) refer to these semantic properties as cohesion, which “refer to relations of meaning that exist within the text, and that define it as a text.” The concepts of tie, dependency and presupposition are often used to explain how semantic relations operate. Consider as an example, the clause complex “.hh if you were to appreciate her niceness more, how would this have you l- lecturing her differently” from lines 15–16, Ex. (3:8). In the second clause, the pronoun this is anaphorically related to the previous clause if you were to appreciate her niceness more. The meaning of this, therefore, is tied to, depends upon and presupposes something that came before. The cohesive system of meanings that organizes such referential ties is called identification (Martin 1992: 93). Referential ties of this sort and their essential role in meaningfully building up conversational utterances have already been observed by Sacks (1992: 150ff.). Such meaningful, cohesive links are important for explaining

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how understanding and intersubjectivity is achieved. For, in producing their own messages and for interpreting others’ messages, speakers are constantly making these meaningful links within and across messages. Cohesion, of course, involves much more than referential ties between and within clauses. Adjacency pairs such as questions/answers, requests/acceptances (or refusals) are also cohesive, since a first pair part sets up expectations that another pair part is forthcoming. Much systemic work on cohesion is taken up in Martin’s (1992) “Discourse Semantics”. For Martin, discourse semantics is a stratum of the semiotic system of language that is organized by lexicogrammar. Discourse semantics represents more abstract kinds of language patterns. Martin (1992: 26) identifies four sub-types of discourse semantic systems, each organized by a single metafunction: (1) negotiation; (2) identification; (3) conjunction; and (4) ideation. Negotiation is organized by the interpersonal metafunction, identification by the textual metafunction, conjunction by the logical metafunction and ideation by the experiential metafunction. Each of these four systems are briefly reviewed below. .. Negotiation In my discussion of CA I highlighted the importance of conversational sequences or exchanges in constructing social organization. The relevance of exchanges for cohesion should also be apparent. Recalling Schegloff ’s (1972[1968]) discussion of conditional relevance, it was argued that pair parts such as questions and answers are semantically tied to each other, in that questions presuppose answers. Furthermore, because there exists this meaningful tie between the parts of an adjacency pair, an expectation is set up that first part conversational actions will be taken up and responded to by an addressee. Let us reconsider Ex. (2:2), which shows a first pair part (accusation) that does not immediately receive a response from C (Acc=accusation; Den=denial). (3:9) Acc

5 6 7 8 Acc 9 10 Den 11

M: so you’re not you’re not denying that there was one there. (2.0) M: are you. (2.5) M: you’re not you can’t deny it can you. (1.2) C: I can to an extent (.8)

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12 13

‘cause i- its not as bad as you think it is you guys just blow it all out of proportion.

Accusing or Blaming is a social action that sets up the relevance for an addresse to respond with either a denial or an admission (see Levinson 1983: 336). In lines 5–9, M accuses C of being involved in a drug scence (see original transcript of Ex. (2:2)). We can see the conditional relevance of responding at work in this example, since C withholds from responding in lines 6 and 8. This, in turn, prompts M to repeat her accusation. The point here, is not so much that we must respond to first pair parts, but that first pair parts set up cohesive ties, such that how we respond will be measured up against what came before. Since accusations sequentially implicate denials or admissions, not responding (as C does in this example) will offer up an interpretation that we admit to the accusation. And, as previously emphasized in the section on EM and CA, these cohesive ties between social actions provide an architecture of understanding and intersubjectivity. In other words, it is through these expectations that we are able to understand our interlocutor’s social action, and that our interlocutor will, in turn, understand our actions. As the previous discussion of Ex. (3:9) has demonstrated, negotiation is an interpersonal semantic system. Especially important for realizing this system are mood, ellipsis, act and exchange. Negotiation is mainly concerned with text-level meanings within dialogue and how acts are sequentially organized. The domain of meaning-making negotiation (or exchange) in SFL has generally been restricted to information (i.e., propositions) or goods & services (i.e,. proposals). However, as pointed out by Thibault (1992), a too constrained focus on information and goods & services tends to prevent us from noticing other equally important interpersonal meanings that are being negotiated in interaction. In particular, more focus needs to be placed on evaluative meanings. Recently, Martin (1997: 18, 2000, 2003) and Martin and Rose (2003) have taken some decisive steps in recognizing the central role of evaluation in the enactment of social relationships. Martin (2000) models evaluation as a discourse semantic system, and refers to it as appraisal. As Martin (2000: 145) summarizes, “The term appraisal will be used here for the semantic resources used to negotiate emotions, judgements, and valuations, alongside resources for amplifying and engaging with these evaluations.” More specifically, appraisal is organized by the interpersonal metafunction and involves three sub-systems: affect, judgement and appreciation. Affect refers to those resources that construct emotional responses in terms of in/security, dis/satisfaction and

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un/happiness. An example of affect would be “I fear his temper tantrums.” Here, a speaker would be enacting insecurity through fear in relation to someone’s bad temper. Judgement involves moral evaluations of behaviour. More specifically, judgements involve social esteem or social sanction. Social esteem generally refers to how unusual, capable or resolute someone is. Social sanction, on the other hand, refers to how truthful or ethical someone is. The difference between social esteem and social sanction is colourfully illustrated by Martin (2000: 156); that is, social sanction often has legal implications, such that difficulty in this area may require a lawyer. Difficulty in the area of social esteem, by contrast, may call for therapeutic assistance. An example of judgement is illustrated in Ex. (3:9). Accusations have moral implications, because if C is accused by her parents of being involved in a drug scene, then her social character in terms of propriety is being put at risk. In other words, it is not ethical, neither from the parent’s nor from a ‘western society’s’ point of view, to be in drug scenes. Finally, appreciation concerns the aesthetic quality of meanings or texts. The different areas of meaning of appreciation include reaction (the impact that social processes have on us), composition (how balanced or complex we evaluate a text as being) and valuation (the social value or significance of a text). An example of appreciation can be seen by revisiting Ex. (2:5). During counselling, W’s formulation that she is improving (I’m getting better with that though) is met with positive appreciation from C; that is, by uttering oh you a::re, C displays a positive reaction to W’s realization that she is acting in improved ways. In sum, speakers’ evaluations and how they are exchanged in conversation should not be excluded in analyses of cohesion. Just as first pair parts implicate and make second pair parts relevant, so do evaluations call forth reactions from interlocutors. Accusations, since they imply social sanctions, make it relevant for the one being accused to either deny the attack on one’s character, or to admit to the accusation. Similarly, assessments that positively appreciate or judge own behaviour implicate a responding social action that positively appreciates the assessment. .. Conjunction In the previous section on negotiation it was argued that social actions are meaningfully tied to each other, and that these ties create expectations such that interlocutors may, by producing a next action, display an understanding

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of what other speaker had said. Cohesive relations across turns, however, do not only involve interpersonal meanings. In producing a next action, speakers also construe ideational meanings; that is, taking a next turn in a conversation elaborates, builds on or ‘enhances’ the way in which experience was construed in the previous turn. These ideational cohesive relations involve conjunctive meaning, referred to by Martin (1992: 179) as Additive, Comparative, Temporal and Consequential. In Martin’s framework, consideration is given not only to the logico-semantic relationships between clauses, but also between clause complexes and more global generic structures. Consider Ex. (2:6) for the kinds of conjunctive relations that occur between speaker turns. I use Halliday’s (1994) symbols for identifying these conjunctive relations (‘=’ stands for elaboration; symbols occurring between lines in parentheses stand for the conjunctive relation between speaker turns). (2:6) 01 W: I’ve two older brothers .hh 02 and (.8) I’ve always taken i- it u- upon myse:lf to be 03 the mentor for my sisters (=)

α =ß

04 05 06 07 08 09

C: so you’re the eldest W: eldest s- sist- [d- daughter ] of five .hh F: [eldest daughter ] C: and i- you you’re the mentor [meaning ] meaning meaning what Wendy Sue W: [well I ]

(=) 10 W: .hh meaning that when they were young 11 I wuz the one who .hh told them about menstruation 12 for example an I wuz the one who .hh uh babysat alot? 13 because my parents both worked .hh 14 and u- even getting older 15 I wuz the one that they would (call) 16 if they had a personal problem (=) 17 C: so so u- u- its almost like you were 18 um a teacher confidant and care provider 19 W: ye::s 20 C: um and they they were roles that you assumed 21 in childhood

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Seen in terms of an exchange, W makes a statement in lines 01–03, C responds with a statement in 04 and 07, and finishes off his turn with a question in 08. W then answers C’s question in lines 10–16, and C provides a statement in lines 17–18, which is a kind of follow-up of W’s answer. In order to make any explicit statements about how these turns are cohesively linked to each other, we will have to consider additional cohesive resources other than those found in negotiation. Conjunction is one area of meaning that offers some interesting insights. Basically, this conversation is about elaborating on what it means for W to be the mentor for her sisters – W also places herself in a kinship taxonomy with two older brothers, but I will leave discussions of taxonomies for the next section. More specifically, it is about reformulating W’s construal of her identity, by unpacking the meaning of being the mentor. Let’s first tackle this notion of unpacking meanings. C, in lines 04 and 07, elaborates on W’s prior meanings by subtly reworking how W identifies herself; she is now re-construed by C as the eldest daughter and as the mentor. Furthermore, C then elaborates within his own turn in line 08 by asking W to unpack the meaning of ‘mentor’ (meaning meaning meaning what Wendy Sue). It is through this unpacking process that we get exemplifications of mentoring activities from W; for, in her subsequent turn W proceeds to unpack the meanings of mentor by providing three examples of what a mentor does. Note that C’s final turn also elaborates on W’s unpackings of mentoring. Here, C associates each of W’s exemplifications with a certain social category (teacher, confidant, care provider). For example, “I wuz the one who .hh told them about menstruation (when they were young) means being a teacher”. This brief example has served to illustrate that a text’s meaningful ties involve more than exchanges of social actions. Ideationally, cohesion works by tying clauses, clause complexes or turns together through additive, comparative, temporal or consequential meanings. The salient cohesive meaning deployed in Ex. (2:6) involved elaboration or reformulation (a subsystem of comparative). In this way, meanings were tied to each other and expanded across turns through the reformulation, or clarification, of the meanings surrounding mentoring. It was previously suggested that Ex. (2:6) also involves the construal of taxonomic relations. Taxonomies are another cohesive resource, and it is to this resource that we now turn.

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.. Ideation A central part of cohesion also involves locating experiential meanings within a unified set of lexical relations. Depending on what we’re talking about, we need to make sure that there is some consistency in the subject matter under discussion. For instance, if the conversation involves what to cook for dinner, and someone blurts out this evening’s list of TV programmes, people will be bound to raise their eyebrows and speculate on this sudden change in topic. Therefore, certain fields such as ‘cooking’, ‘sports’, ‘travel’ or ‘linguistics’ will create an expectation among interlocutors that lexical items be used in ways that correspond to a certain field. Martin (1992: 271ff.) refers to this area of cohesion as ideation, which maps most closely onto the experiential metafunction. Ideation involves various types of lexical relationships such as superordination (e.g., hyperonym/hyponym) and meronomy (i.e., whole/part). It should be noted that Martin (1992: 301) includes lexical relationships such as repetition, inflectional difference, derivational difference, synonym and attitudinal difference under the category of superordination. All of these categories may be viewed, according to Martin, along a scale from same meaning (i.e., repetition) to different meaning (i.e., co-hyponomy). The cohesive property of ideation derives from the ability of interactants to expect (and therefore also produce) patterned lexical relationships. If we again turn to Ex. (2:6), it was noted that much of the discursive work centred around clarifying and reformulating what ‘mentoring’ means. We also showed that C’s reformulation in lines 17–18 introduced three terms (teacher, confidant and care provider) that stood in a taxonomic relationship to ‘mentor’; that is, the former terms may represent types of mentors, with ‘mentor’ being the superordinate term. Building a bridge between Martin’s (1992) work on ideation and CA, lexical terms such as mentor or teacher are membership categorization devices (MCDs). From our earlier discussion of MCDs, it was also noted that MCDs imply category bound activities (CBAs). In other words, categories such as ‘mentor’ imply activities that correspond to mentoring. Recall that it was through C’s request for W to unpack the meaning of ‘mentor’ that W was able to provide three examples of mentoring activities in lines 10–16. Finally, activities also imply categories. In this way, C was able to reformulate each of W’s unpackings into new categories.

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.. Identification The final cohesive system is organized by the textual metafunction and is called identification. Basically identification is a resource that allows for the tracking of Participants. It therefore plays a referential function. Identification is an important textual resource, because we must have a way of signalling that a new Participant is being introduced or that we are presuming an already established referent. New Participants are often signalled by a non-specific deictic such as a(n), any, some and every. An example of a presenting reference is a letter in Ex. (3:10). Once Participants have been presented, they are then referred to via presuming reference. In Ex. (3:10) C uses the pronoun it to refer back to (references that point backwards in the text are referred to as anaphoric references). Presuming references are also frequently realized by specific deictics such as the/this/that/your letter. (3:10) (A08P2) C: .hh okay I’ve put together a letter its um (1.0) rather hastily drawn but um (1.0) I think that uh perhaps a little about what we were talking about last week ((sound of papers being shuffled about)) ((coughs)) so I I’ll read it and ahh your comments ahh about it at the end are are helpful?

Martin (1992: 103) also makes a distinction between specific and generic Participants. For generic Paricipants a whole class of ‘thing’ may be referred to such as letters, rather than a specific member of that class. Such generic Participants, according to Martin and Rose (2003: 167), are less likely to be presumed, since they are not referring to any particular thing. This is also the case with abstract Participants such as policy, government or problem. In conversation, mention of abstract Participants may create the need for interactional ‘repair’, when an addressee is not certain if the Participant can be presumed. For instance, counsellor and clients tend to identify a range of client ‘problems’ over the course of counselling. Therefore, if a client at some point refers to ‘the problem’, the counsellor may not know which problem the client has in mind. In Ex. (3:11), this sort of interactional ‘trouble’ occurs in line 02 after W had stated I have .hh the problem. C then attempts to identify the referent of ‘the problem’ in line 03 by suggesting three alternatives. Note that W ratifies each of the alternatives, which suggests that she had meant the range of problems that had already been presented, rather than any one problem in particular.

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(3:11) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07

W: so. I have .hh the problem (1.2) C: being wha worrying or uh letting others dow::n [or ] disagreement. W: [yes. ] W: yeah yeah [yeah yeah ] yeah. C: [all that stuff.]

This relatively short discussion of cohesion has tried to show the kinds of textual resources speakers orient to, in order to create a cohesive text. These resources play a central part in enabling understanding among speakers by creating an ‘architecture of intersubjectivity’. Through these resources, expectancy relationships are created such that speakers may negotiate social actions, expand ideational meanings, construe similar/different lexical meanings and track Participants. We now turn to one final area of meaning that should be addressed in a discussion of cohesion, which is grammatical metaphor.

. Texture & grammatical metaphor It should be recalled that the content plane of language consists of both discourse semantics and lexicogrammar, and that both strata stand in a realizational relationship to each other such that negotiation is realized in interpersonal meanings, identification in textual meanings and so on. Martin (1992: 391), however, points out that the interaction between strata can not be solely accounted for by realization; that is, discourse systems also interact with each other (e.g., negotiation & conjunction, identification & ideation). Martin refers to these discursive and grammatical interactions as interaction patterns. These patterns, along with the various cohesive relationships discussed above, are what contribute to the texture of a text. In order to account for the process of how text forming systems interconnect across strata, Martin proposes an intermediary level between discourse semantics and lexicogrammar. This level is a texturing interface that allows for discourse systems to interact with each other (Martin 1992: 401). One kind of texturing interface is called grammatical metaphor. Halliday’s (1994: 342) theory of grammatical metaphor provides an account of the language’s potential in re-packaging or transforming meaning in various grammatical forms. Or, using Martin’s (1991a: 116) definition, “gram-

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matical metaphor is a theory of the ways in which the solidary realisation relationship between lexicogrammar and discourse semantics may be reconstrued, thereby expanding the meaning making potential of content form.” Simply put, the idea behind grammatical metaphor is that the relationship between content and expression (e.g., Reason and its expression through the conjunction because) may be reconstrued or transformed (e.g., Reason and its expression through the nominal group the reason). Kinds of meaning, therefore, can be packaged in various parts of the grammar. In positing a metaphorical form, Halliday does not propose, as is common for theories of lexical metaphor, that words have literal meanings and metaphorical variants. Thus, Halliday (1994: 342) examines metaphor in terms of “variations in the expression of meaning” rather than “variation in the meaning of a given expression”. The correct type of opposition for Halliday is, for this reason, not literal-metaphorical but congruent-metaphorical. By congruent, Halliday (1998: 189), refers to a ‘primary’ semiotic content. From an ideational perspective, these are the expressions that most directly interface with the experiential world. Here, the semantic load is spread out maximally across clauses. Grammatical metaphor operates alongside each of the metafunctions. There thus exist three general types of grammatical metaphor: ideational, interpersonal and textual metaphor. Ideational, in turn, is broken down into logical and experiential. Instances of grammatical metaphor, simply put, involve expanding the realization potential of semantic meanings. In this way, a semantic content may become realized in, and hence ‘transferred’ to, numerous places within the lexicogrammar. An example includes placing the semantics of what is typically realized in conjunctions or verbs in nominal groups. These transformations are termed nominalizations. A comparison of congruent and metaphorical realizations for each type of grammatical metaphor is illustrated in Table 3.7. Common manifestations of logical metaphor occur when conjunctive meanings become realized within a clause rather than between clauses. The causal meaning realized by therefore, for example, can also be realized within a clause as the reason that. . . . An example of experiential metaphor is when a Process such as to advance is realized nominally as in advancement. Interpersonal metaphor, on the other hand, often involves modal meaning. The congruent form might, for instance, can also be realized metaphorically within a nominal group (i.e., possibility). Finally, an example of textual metaphor involves reference. Congruent referents would include pronouns such as he or she. These referents identify Participants and orient to social context (i.e., field – see next section) by organizing activity sequences. Metaphorical refer-

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Table 3.7 Examples of grammatical metaphor across metafunctions metafunction

Congruent

Metaphorical

ideational: logical conjunctive relation experiential process

therefore

reason

advance

advancement

interpersonal assessment

might

possibility

textual reference

he

this point

(reproduced from Martin 1992: 406)

ents, on the other hand, identify facts and orient to social context (i.e., mode – see next section) by organizing text structure. Examples such as as a final point or as a result of these factors organize the message by referring back to a previous chunk of text. Although three main types of grammatical metaphor have been identified that correspond to each metafunction, it should be clear that an instance of grammatical metaphor does not influence only one metafunction. Generally all metafunctions are brought into play. Nominalization, for instance, affects ideation since it packages conjunctive or Process meaning within a nominal group. Interpersonally, it prevents the nominalized element from acquiring Mood. And finally, from a textual perspective, it allows the realization of a new Participant and hence referent. Consider an example that contains nominalizations (nominalized Processes are in bold): (3:12) (A08P1) 01 C: .hh your experience Wendy Sue .hh is of uh living with a man who has a lecturing style

Here, C utters a single clause that is realized by an identifying relational Process. This clause may be divided up into the following ideational, experiential and textual components (double brackets ‘[[ ]]’ refer to embedded clauses):

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.hh your experience .hh is Wendy Sue Value Process: Identifying Mood Theme Rheme

[[of uh living with a man [[who has a lecturing style]]]] Token Residue

To illustrate the metaphorical transformations, what needs to be done is to unpack the ‘buried’ meanings. Note, first of all, that two clauses have been embedded within the relational clause (i.e., of uh living with a man who has a lecturing style and who has a lecturing style). In addition, there are two experiential metaphors or Processes in nominalized form: experience and lecturing style. Let us begin by unpacking the experiential metaphor in the ‘Token’ column: a. W, you live with a man b. and this man lectures you. Unpacking has transformed the embedded clauses and nominalized Process from the status of a Participant in an identifying relational clause to a paratactic clause complex. The next step is to unpack the experiential metaphor in the ‘Value.’ To begin, the nominal group your experience Wendy Sue is turned into a possessive relational clause: a. W, you have a certain experience; b. you live with a man c. and this man lectures you. Now we have three clauses instead of one but experience is still in nominalized form. By transforming the Participant experience into the Process experiences, the following realization becomes possible: a. W, you experience the following; b. you live with a man c. and this man lectures you. By unpacking the embedded clauses and nominalizations, three clauses were unpacked from one. I am not suggesting, however, that this clause could not have been unpacked in other ways or that I have uncovered the one congruent form. Unpackings are, of course, interpretations. What I tried to illustrate was how experiential meanings become buried within clauses through the process of grammatical metaphor. Because three clauses were derived from one, we might also speculate as to what role logical metaphor might be playing. Since clause c paratactically extends clause b, it could be argued that the Token con-

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tained a logical metaphor in which a clause complex was buried. In terms of textual metaphor the Value is the Theme of the message. Thus, using this kind of relational clause has textual implications such that the first Participant becomes what the clause is about. In this case, it is about W’s experience. The unpackings transformed the thematic structure by making the clients (i.e., you and this man) what the messages are about. And finally, these nominalizations have interpersonal consequences. The nominalized Processes, for instance, can no longer select for Mood and are therefore not negotiable. In the unpacked clause, the only negotiable element is W’s experience: C:

.hh your experience Wendy Sue .hh is of uh living with a man who has a lecturing style W: no it isn’t/ yes it is

In my ‘unpacked’ version, since they are now three clauses and hence three Mood structures, there are three places that are potentially negotiable: a. W, you experience the following; – no I don’t/ yes I do b. you live with a man – no I don’t/ yes I do c. and this man lectures you. – no he doesn’t/ yes he does So, in addition to burying experiential and logical meaning, C’s relational process has decreased the number of places in which others may negotiate its meaning. A final consequence of unpacking these grammatical metaphors can be seen at the level of the discourse semantics. The unpacked version, for instance, reconstrues the textual system through the realization of different reference chains (e.g., W–you–you–you vs. your–W; a man–this man vs. a man–who). Experiential meaning is also reconstrued. In the unpacked version, W’s experience is reformulated in terms of a short sequence of events that involves the Participants you/man and the Processes live/lecture: you + live + with a man; this man + lectures + you. In sum then, grammatical metaphor such as nominalization works as a texturing interface between lexicogrammatical and discourse semantic levels. It potentially brings into play all metafunctional levels. Before finishing up this section a couple more points need to be mentioned. First, Halliday’s theory of grammatical metaphor is predicated on the claim that placing the semantics maximally across clauses is primary. Children, he argues, make little use of grammatical metaphor and their clausal con-

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structions therefore contain few nominalizations and embeddings. Knowledge of grammatical metaphor seeps slowly into a child’s grammatical repertoire and is first learned and then mastered through the educational system. The most abundant and complex forms of grammatical metaphor are found in the discourse of science (see Halliday & Martin 1993). Second, grammatical metaphor is not merely a different way of expressing the same meaning. Expressing meaning through different lexico-grammatical realizations also involves a resemanticization (Halliday 1998: 226). My unpacking of C’s relational clause did not produce synonymous clausal representations. Transforming the lexicogrammar also resulted in a transformed meaning. This is so because the ‘new’ lexicogrammatical realization is now embedded within a new grammatical context, thereby configuring with different elements of the clause.

. Social context In SFL, when we move from explications of language (meta)function to language use, we turn our attention to social context. Recall from a previous discussion that language and context are related via realization. This relationship is ‘natural’, in the sense that language choice is influenced by type of social context. It is also bi-directional, in which social context activates language patterns, and language patterns construe social context. Halliday and Matthiessen (1999: 18–19) describe relalization as “the two sides of the Stoic-Saussurean sign – best represented, perhaps, in the familiar Chinese figure yin & yang (which is in fact just that, a representation of the sign).” Furthermore, realization should not be thought of in terms of causality, but in terms of probability. Another way of looking at realization is from a social-functional point of view, in which any instance of language is conditioned by the situational context. As Halliday (2003[1973]: 298) already put in some years ago when discussing semantic variation: The social functions of language clearly determine the pattern of language varieties, in the sense of what have been called “diatypic” varieties, or registers; the register range, or linguistic repertoire, of a community or of an individual is derived from the range of uses that language is put to in that particular culture or subculture. There will probably be no bureaucratic mode of discourse in a society without a bureaucracy.

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Thus, language use has evolved to match the needs of various social situations. However, this should not be interpreted in a ‘top-down’ fashion; that is, we can also ‘create’ new situations by using language in novel ways. So, it is certainly not the case that the situation in some way comes first, and we merely select those linguistic resources that will most efficiently get the job done. Another important aspect of situations needs to built into our model of social context. This is the observation that much language activity has a telos. In other words, the activities that we engage in orient to social goals. Telos, in this interpretation, is not private and does not refer to speakers’ hidden intentions. Rather, telos is socially accomplished and is best viewed in the spirit of CA’s notions of sequential implicativeness and conditional relevance. Thus, telos is predicated on the observation that certain actions implicate and make relevant other sequential actions. It is not that these sequential actions must occur, but that there is a culturally shared expectation that they will occur. Thus, if an expected subsequent action is not realized, speakers will somehow signal that they are moving out of the current activity or cannot, for some reason, finish the activity. Martin (1992, 1997, 1999b) refers to such goal-directed activities as genres. Furthmore, Martin views genre as a semiotic system that stands apart from context of situation. In this way, social context is stratified in terms of an expression plane and a content plane (Martin 1992, 1999b). The expression plane is referred to as register (i.e., context of situation) and the content plane is called genre. Figure 3.7 illustrates the semiotic organization of social context in relation to language. .. Register: Context of situation For Martin (1992: 502), register is identical to context of situation, whereby context is “the total environment in which a text unfolds” (Halliday 1985a: 5). Register is organized by three contextual variables: field, tenor and mode. Halliday (1978: 142–143) defines these variables in the following way: field – the social action that which is ‘going on’, and has recognizable meaning in the social system; typically a complex of acts in some ordered configuration, and in which the text is playing some part, and including ‘subject-matter’ as one special aspect; tenor – the role structure the cluster of socially meaningful Participant relationships, both permanent attributes of the Participants and role relationships that are specific to the

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situation, including the speech roles, those that come into being through the exchange of verbal meanings; mode – the symbolic organization the particular status that is assigned to the text within the situation; its function in relation to the social action and the role structure, including the channel or medium, and the rhetorical mode.

Since, as Halliday has repeatedly argued, the situation provides an environment for patterns of language selections, we would expect a close coupling between aspects of the situation and aspects of language. In fact, Halliday (1978) has proposed that contextual variables map directly onto the metafunctions; that is, each register variable sets probabilities in language – Halliday (1978: 110) refers to the setting of probabilities or semantic options as putting meanings “at risk”. More specifically, Field puts ideational meanings at risk, Tenor puts interpersonal meanings at risk and Mode puts textual meanings at risk. Referring back to our discussion of ethnomethodology and the documentary method of interpretation, these interconnections between language and context allow speakers to infer a context from a given instance of language, and to ‘predict’ language patterns from a given situation. The relationship between the register variables and metafunctions is shown in Table 3.8. The first register variable, field, refers to the kinds of activity sequences and the subject matter that is realized in language. Examples of activity sequences

genre genre// mode

field

register/ ideational

metaredundancy (realisation)

textual language

tenor

interpersonal

Figure 3.7 Language and context, with a stratified context plane [taken from Martin 1999: 39]

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Table 3.8 The relationship between metafunction and register Metafunction (language)

Register (context of situation) contrues

Ideational (meaning as experience) transitivity ideation conjunction

activates

Field (social activities) activity sequence subject matter

constructs Interpersonal (meaning as exchange) mood modality negotiation appraisal

activates

Tenor (social relationships) status contact affect

creates Textual (meaning as messge) theme new identification

activates

Mode (symbolic organization) language role medium channel

for the field of linguistics include lecturing, evaluating, supervising, writing, editing, meeting, etc. (see Martin 1992: 538). A subject matter, on the other hand, relates to taxonomic distinctions. Viewing linguistics as a subject matter, we may further differentiate types of linguistics – thus forming superordination taxonomies – into formal and functional. The former may, in turn, be further differentiated into Bloomfieldian vs. post-Bloomfieldian (see Martin 1992: 541). Field is organized by the ideational metafunction, and therefore puts the following systems at risk: transitivity, ideation and conjunction. Tenor, on the other hand, is concerned with specifying social relationships. Characterizations of tenor in SFL draw largely from the work of Brown and Gilman (1960), who proposed that power and solidarity play a central role in indexing social relations. Poynton (1985) developed Brown and Gilman’s model by proposing that solidarity be further differentiated into contact and affect. Whereas contact refers to the degree of social distance or intimacy (e.g., involved vs. distant) among interlocutors, affect concerns a speaker’s/writer’s attitude or emotion towards an addressee. The power variable was further modified by Poynton (1985: 76) to occur along a continuum of unequal vs. equal, and to range over a number of subvariables such as force (e.g., physical

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superiority), authority (e.g., unequal role relationships such as parent-child), status (e.g., unevenly distributed wealth) and expertise (e.g., expert knowledge or skill). Martin (1992) has reinterpreted Poynton’s power variable as status, arguing that power be instead construed in terms of ideology “as the overarching term for the way in which ethnicity, gender, generation and class give participants differential access to status, prominence, authority and control” (Martin 1992: 527). The interpersonal systems involved in constructing social relations include mood, modality and negotiation. The third situational variable, Mode, refers to the symbolic organization of the text. Hasan (1985: 58) dividies Mode into three components: Language role, Medium and Channel. Language role refers to the part that language plays in constituting the social action. For instance, if language is secondary to the activity at hand – as it most likely would be in replacing a light bulb – then languge is playing an ancillary role. If, however, the social activity involves arguing or discussing different points of view, then language would be playing a largely constitutive role. The medium may be divided into spoken and written, which also reflects the degree to which the process or text may be shared. For instance, the written medium does not allow for an addresse to provide immediate feedback, whereas spoken interactions generally do. Thus, mode mediates the semiotic space between monologue/dialogue, and in this way influences the degree to which interactants can participate in negotiating meaning (Martin 1992: 509). The final mode variable refers to the channel of communication and includes visual and aural. Channel is especially important since the number of channels available will determine the number of semiotic systems such as gesture, body position, gaze, dress and so on that may be taking part in the meaning making process. Most centrally connected to mode is the textual metafunction in which systems such as theme and identification are placed most at risk. However, since Mode plays a principal role in organizing text, it also orients to ideational and interpersonal meaning – detailed system networks of Tenor and Mode can be found in Martin (1992: 509–536). In order to demonstrate how language patterns may contribute to realizing the context of situation – or, put differently, how the context ‘gets into’ the text – let us re-examine Ex. (2:6). Recall that the main activity centred around clarifying and reworking the meaning of the term ‘mentor’. This activity was accomplished at the discourse semantic level through reformulations and at the level of the grammar through relational processes (‘x’ means/is ‘y’). The field of this interaction is also realized in the taxonomic relations of mentoring. These taxonomies are co-constructed through: (1) client’s identification of herself as the mentor and the identification of mentoring as babysitting,

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telling about menstruation and being the listener of personal problems; and (2) classifying mentoring in terms of categories, thereby creating a taxonomic relationship in which mentoring is the superordinate term (i.e., you were um a teacher confidant and care provider). The interaction between counsellor and client, however, may also be described in terms of the social relationships between the interactants. The dimension of Tenor that is highlighted in this excerpt involves Status. In lines 07–08, C gets W to elaborate on her self-identification as mentor and, in lines 17–18, reformulates W’s elaborations. By negotiating W’s experiential reality (i.e., W’s self-identifications and how they are categorized), C and W co-construct an unequal relationship in which C is able to demand more information from W and to reformulate that information. Some of the interpersonal meanings at risk here are exchange (e.g., formulation-reformulation) and Mood (i.e., declarative). Notice that by approaching tenor from language, we are able to detect differences in terms of how speakers have differential access to linguistic resources on a turn-by-turn basis. The counsellor in Ex. (2:6) does not have higher status merely by virtue of being a counsellor. He has higher status because he is the one who demands information from the client, and makes statements about clients’ identity (i.e., about the types of ‘mentor’ that W is). C is the one who is constantly probing and questioning, getting the clients to clarify and unpack their formulations of self and other. Status from this perspective is about how speakers are using language, and not about any ‘inherent’ dispositions that they possess. Turning to the last contextual variable, mode, the medium of this interaction is spoken and represents a dialogue that is realized in regularly occurring turn-taking patterns; W tends to formulate and C tends to reformulate. In addition, language is playing a predominant role in creating the social activity. For example, both C and W are reconstruing or reformulating W’s identity. W begins as the mentor and ends up being associated with activities and other categories. Here, language is the central means in which ideational meaning is realized; that is, the language used by W and C is constitutive of who W is. A closer look at the textual metafunction reveals how this comes about. W is most often placed in Theme position, whereas the New information tends to occur within the Rheme. Therefore, through this consistently deployed Theme-New pattern across clauses, W and C are able to keep ‘adding on’ meanings of what mentoring consists of (i.e., the activities) and meanings that are subclassifications of being a mentor (i.e., teacher, confidant, care provider). The relevant contextual variables found in Ex. (2:6), and the language patterns activiated by these contextual variables are shown in Table 3.9.

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Table 3.9 The relationship between metafunction and register in Ex. (2:6) Metafunction (language)

Register (context of situation) contrues

Ideational (meaning as experience) reformulation superordination relational process

activates

Field (social activities) clarifying/reworking meaning mentor taxonomies

constructs Interpersonal (meaning as exchange) declarative mood information exchange

Tenor (social relationships) unequal status activates creates

Textual (meaning as messge) client as theme attributes as new

activates

Mode (symbolic organization) constitutive role spoken medium visual/aural channels

Although Ex. (2:6) is an instance of the activity that involves clarifying and reworking meanings, there is a sense that this activity may be found with some frequency. Since this activity may occur over time and at different times with varying participants, we may want to refer to it as a situation type (Halliday 1978: 109). Furthermore, the situation in Ex. (2:6) is associated with an instance of language or text. Although this kind of analysis of an instance of interaction is powerful in the sense that is allows us to track the turn-by-turn meanings generated in text production, it tells us little about the more generalized textual meanings and that are at play. Thus, just as we want to capture types of situations, we also want to capture the types of meanings that tend to be activiated by situations. Halliday (1978) uses the concept of register to capture the relationship between situation type and typical meaning configurations. According to Halliday (1978: 111), “a register can be defined as the configuration of semantic resources that the member of the culture typically associates with a situation type.” This notion that sets of semantic resources (i.e., registers) co-occur with contextual configurations (i.e., configurations of field, tenor and mode) help to explain how sense making is achieved. Returning to Garfinkel’s ‘counselling’ experiments, the individuals being counselled seemed to orient to the situation as one of advice giving. This orientation allowed them to interpret the counsel-

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lor’s meanings as realizing the situation type of advice giving, even though the so-called ‘advice’ was often contradictory. Without this more abstract notion of situation type or register, we would be hard pressed to explain how speakers recognize situations and how speakers link up speakers’ linguistic contributions to the activity being realized. Therefore, in explaining this relationship between language and context and how speakers make connections between these levels, we need to draw from two concepts in SFL: instantiation and realization. Recall our previous discussion of instantiation (Halliday 1992), in which a text (or set of texts) instantiates the system, and the system, in turn, provides the environment for the text – this was likened to the difference between climate and weather. Thus, at the instance end we have the text, of which Ex. (2:6) is an example. Speakers, however, draw from a system of meanings, which includes ideational, interpersonal and textual meanings. Halliday and Matthiessen (1999: 15) refer to this system as the general meaning potential. It represents the total possibilities in which members of a culture can make meanings. We also argued before that we need a perspective that is in-between these two poles of instance and system, a perspective that takes into account how speakers tend to use language in certain situations. This perspective was captured under the term register (Halliday 1978), and, more recently, domain potential (Halliday & Matthiessen 1999: 14). Registers, therefore, are a subpotential (i.e., domain) of the overall potential of the system. However, in order to avoid creating confusion between Halliday’s (1978) concept of register as semantic variety and Martin’s (1992) concept of register as context of situation, I shall refer to semantic variety as a domain potential, keeping register consistent with Martin’s use of the term. Instantiation also pertains to the contextual level. Perspectives on context can be mapped onto semantic potential in the following ways: a text realizes a situation, a domain potential (Halliday’s concept of register) realizes a situation type and a semantic potential realizes a context of culture. The realizational relationship between context and semantics at different phases of instantiation is shown in Table 3.10. What is needed, in order to identify a situation type, is to examine various instances of interaction and to see whether certain social activities recur. In counselling, for example, it was found that clarifying and reworking (i.e., reformulating) meaning happended repeatedly throughout the counselling sessions. Once numerous instances of a situation type are found, we can begin to explore the domain potential; that is, the various ideational, interpersonal and textual meanings that tend to be placed at risk.

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Table 3.10 Context and semantics from the perspective of stratification and instantiation Stratification Context Semantics

Instantiation Potential context of culture semantic potential

Subpotential situation type domain potential

Instance situation text

(adapted from Halliday & Matthiessen 1999: 384)

It is important to stress that situations are constantly shifting throughout an interaction. Although the interactants may be, at one point, engaging in the social activity of clarifying meanings such as ‘mentoring’, interactants will shift out of that situation and move into others. We can recognize these shifts, because other semantic resources not consistent with the current domain potential are being deployed. Dynamic textual unfolding may thus be seen as phasal transitions, in which a phase is characterized as “those stretches of text in which there is a significant measure of consistency in what is being selected ideationally, interpersonally, and textually” (Gregory 1985: 127). And furthermore, “transitions in and out of phases are indicated by changes in the kind of choice from one of more functional components” (Gregory 1985: 127). Gregory (1985) also emphasizes that phase is best viewed in terms of delicacy. At a very delicate level, phasal transitions may appear at every new turn or even within a turn in conversation. However, in order to capture generalizations, it is perhaps better to remain at a less delicate level, such that we may identify those phases in conversation that correspond to situation types. The observation that texts are marked by phasal shifts that display functional variation may lead us to wonder about what causes these shifts. Are interactants merely guided by the prior context (i.e., context shaped in CA terms) or are they sensitive to some kind of global requirements that the interaction places upon them? The answer appears to be ‘yes’ to both questions. Just as interactants are constrained by a preceding move (recall, for example, the conditional relevance set up by a first pair part such as a question), there also seem to be ‘larger than adjacency pair’ activities that constrain interactants’ linguistic constributions over a series of turns. These global social activities are termed genres.

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.. Genre: Context of culture Much of our interactions in daily life, be they through face-to-face conversations or through various kinds of written media, seem to be goal-oriented. Labov (1972), for instance, has shown that certain kinds of stories – he termed them narratives – tend to unfold through a series of stages such as Orientation, Complication, Evaluation and Resolution. These stages are temporally ordered in which story tellers first provide the setting of the narrative (orientation); then they formulate a series of events that lead to a crisis (complication), which is followed by an evaluation of the crisis (evaluation) and, lastly, a resolution of the crisis (resolution). Thus, once a narrative has begun, an expectation is set up such that subsequent phasal transitions (i.e., stages) will be produced. Goal-directedness, therefore, implies a kind of sequential implicativeness or conditional relevance. Furthermore, these ‘goals’ must be culturally shared, for if they were not, speakers would not expect activities to unfold in any regular way. Goal-directed social activities are termed genres, and are equated with context of culture. From this perspective, culture is seen as a system of genres. According to Martin (1985b: 250), “genres are how things get done, when language is used to accomplish them. . . . The term is used here to embrace each of the linguistically realized activity types which comprise so much of our culture.” The concept of telos is incorporated into a more recent definition, in which genre becomes defined as a “staged, goal-oriented social process realized through register” (Martin 1992: 505). Here, the terms social and staged are emphasized alongside telos. It has already been shown in the narrative example above that genres sequentially unfold through stages such as Orientation and Complication. However, it is also important to stress the social aspect of genres because they are not scripts or schemas in the minds of individuals, but are culturally shared and interactively produced. Unlike register, genre is not directly organized by metafunction but by the contextual variables Field, Tenor and Mode, which in turn, are organized by metafunction (see Figure 2.7). The relationship between the semiotic systems of genre, register and language is what Martin (1999b: 30) refers to as “layered connotative semiotics.” In this framework, language is the expression plane for register, which in turn is the expression plane for genre. By emphasizing that one semiotic system is realized by another or is the expression plane for another, Martin maintains the link between lexicogrammatical and discouse semantic patterns and more abstract contextual (i.e., register and genre) patterns; that is, the semiotic planes are inter-related such that an instance of lan-

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guage use immediately and simultaneously calls into play all semiotic planes. Metafunctional selections construe and are activated by register, which in turn construes and is activated by genre. Martin’s concept of genre as a culturally shared practice involving telos overlaps with other approaches to genre (see for example Bhatia 1994 and Swales 1990). Common ground may also be found with CA and Levinson’s (1992) characterization of “activity types.” In short, Levinson (1992: 69–72) argues that activities are characterized by three features: First, they are goaldirected; Second, they impose constraints on types of allowable social actions; and third, they allow for specific inferential schemata (see also Drew & Heritage 1992 and Drew & Soronjen 1997 on ‘institutional talk’). The common ground between activity types in CA and genre theory in SFL can be expressed in two points: First, activity types/genres are staged goal-oriented interactive social processes; and second, activity types/genres constrain (i.e., set probabilities for) the choice of meaning-making resources. The differences lie in how both approaches treat meaning-making. In genre theory, consideration is given to different semiotic systems such as genre, register and language. CA, on the other hand, refers primarily to sequential organization. From an SFL perspective, CA restricts its analysis of activity to the discourse semantic level of negotiation. Speakers’ use of lexicogrammar and how this relates to function, context or activity is left largely underdeveloped. The emphasis on the indexicality of expressions and their context-sensitive meaning has led conversation analysts to resist overt forms of matching between expression and content. However, as I have previously argued, I do not see a paradox between indexicality or contextsensitiveness and the proposition that form relates to function. Words, groups and clauses can realize semantics without comprising the claim that their function will depend on their context of use. If CA’s restriction of meaning-making resources is relaxed and genre theory’s layered semiotic planes is accepted, analysis can be oriented to an examination of the various planes of semiotic meaning and how these meanings inter-relate to realize activities or genres. An important contribution from CA research to genre theory is what Levinson referred to as inferential schemata. Activities are associated with inferential frameworks, which means that specific inferences will always accompany the production (or absence of) a relevant social action – recall a similar discussion above where it was argued that adjacency pairs are constitutive of a normative framework. Social actions, therefore, will be interpreted and evaluated on the basis of their local/sequential and global/activity relevance. This means that when a speaker does something that is incongruent to the activity, other speakers will orient to (i.e., draw inferences from) this incongruent

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behaviour. What this adds to the analysis is a further piece of evidence that activities or genres are interactants’ constructions. Put differently, speakers do not simply enter into genres and are guided by genres but co-produce and use activities or genres. Thus, although activities or genres constrain speakers’ social actions, speakers also – by checking and drawing inferences from others actions – play a central part in shaping and directing the course of these activities. .. Genre families One of the goals of SFL genre theory is to map a culture as a system of genres. To realize this aim, SFL research has focused on creating a genre typology. In this way, texts may be examined for the generic social processes that they are realizing. The concern for identifying texts has not just been to highlight their differences in field, tenor and mode, but also to specify their generic interrelatedness to other texts. According to Martin (1999b: 33): In other words, we wanted to know not just how a genre like recipe was related through the field of cooking to other domestic tasks and more general hospitality functions, or through the tenor of apprenticeship to other pedagogic relationships, or through the mode of writing to other spoken or electronic modalities; but in addition we wanted to know how recipes were related generically (as a bundle of regularly recurring field, mode and tenor selections) to other procedural genres (instruction manuals, scientific procedures, furniture assembly directions etc.).

Two main types of genre families have been posited in genre research. These genre families may be identified as either narrative or expository (Grabe 2002; Martin 1985a, 1992, 2002) – but see also Bruner (1986) for a related discussion on narrative vs. paradigmatic thought. The differences between these two families lie in their general social purpose or function. One main difference lies in how knowledge or experience is conceptualized. Expository genres in the field of science, for instance, tend to construe knowledge in ways that differ from our everyday experience of the world. Through the expository genres of science, knowledge is constituted through identifying, classifying and taxonomizing phenomena and the causal relations between phenomena (Martin 1991b; Veel 1997; Wignell, Martin & Eggins 1993). Expository genres have been explored in detail in Martin’s (1985a) research on the kinds of genres that young children produce in writing – Martin actually refers to this genre family as factual, exposition being a subtype of factual. In this work, Martin

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Chapter 3

Table 3.11 Expository genres Genre type

General function

Procedure Description Report Explanation Exposition

‘how something is done’ ‘what some particular thing is like’ ‘what an entire class of thing is like’ ‘a reason why a judgment has been made’ ‘arguments why a thesis has been proposed’

(1985a: 15) identified 5 general types of factual genres: Procedure, Description, Report, Explanation and Exposition. These five genres are listed in Table 3.11 along with the general function that they realize. The differences between these types of expository genres may be found at the level of register in that each genre places different elements of Field, Tenor and Mode at risk. However, in spite of these differences, genres also share elements from register. Martin (1992), for instance, argues that the first three expository genres in Table 3.11 tend to cluster together along the dimensions of Field (i.e., texts that focus on activity sequences or entities) and Mode (i.e., texts that either generalize across experience or focus on particular instances of experience). Therefore, texts that focus on activity sequences tend to contain a large number of ‘doing’ processes such as material or behaviour, whereas entity-focussed texts have a proportionately higher number of relational processes. In terms of Mode, on the other hand, Texts that generalize across experience contain generalized Participants (i.e., classes of Things) such as ‘families’, ‘problems’ ‘jobs’ and so on. A focus on particular instances of experience, by contrast, tends to involve specific Participants such as ‘Fred’ or ‘the counsellor’. Reports and Procedures group together along the Mode dimension since they both generalize but they contrast in terms of Field since Reports are thing focused whereas Procedures are activity focused. Descriptions, on the other hand, differ from both Procedure and Report along the Mode dimension but align with Reports in terms of Field because they both focus on entities. In order to demonstrate how we may go about identifying a genre within a piece of transcript, let us consider once again Ex. (2:6). In terms of Mode the focus is on specific Participants such as ‘two older brothers’, ‘the mentor’, ‘my sisters’, ‘the eldest daughter’ and ‘I’. Furthermore, since mainly relational clauses appear in this example, it is entity-focused rather than activity focussed. These two dimensions of register seem to align Ex. (2:6) with Descriptions. From this view the text is about W’s identity; it is about who W is. At the beginning W self-identifies herself as ‘the mentor’, but at the end of this example in lines 17–18, C attributes W with the quality of being a teacher confidant

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and care provider. By comparing the text’s social activity (i.e., Field) with its generic social purpose (i.e., Genre), we can show that the text is performing two simultaneous functions; that is, at the level of field the text is about clarifying and reworking the meaning of mentoring, but at the level of genre it is a description about W’s identity. Explanation and Exposition are assessed along slightly different criteria because the former explains events, whereas the latter argues for a certain position. Martin (1992: 563) has suggested that these two genres differ in terms of Field in that Explanation is activity focused whereas Exposition is entity focused. Consider the Explanation from Ex. (3:13). (3:13) (A08P3) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15

T:

=whu whu we’re getting there I oh I don’t understand why it is a problem if he isn’t feeling (1.2) that’s he’s let down or i why [why are you] W: [oh I I] still believe that he is feeling let down T: that may be the case but why is that a problem for you (1.0) is it [becuz] W: [becuz] I’ve done something wro::ng (in there) I have (1.0) I have (.) um (1.5) not done something I I just h have done something that (1.0) I shouldn’t. I should want tuh go out an want tuh do things

It should be emphasized that the explanation is co-produced such that C provides the issue to be explained in lines 02 and 07 in the form of a question (I oh I don’t understand why it is a problem; but why is that a problem for you). By answering the question in lines 09 onwards, C provides the explanation (becuz I’ve done something wro::ng), and thus completes the genre. Explanations are especially common in the field of science, and appear in various guises. Veel (1997: 172), for instance, lists numerous subtypes of explanation, including sequential, causal, factorial, theoretical and consequential. In contrast to expository genres, which describe, document or explain the way things are, narrative genres describe something that has happened to the story teller or someone else (Martin 1985a: 3). A central component to stories is that they tend to be episodic, involving a sequence of past events that are ac-

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companied by a setting, characters, evaluations and outcomes. Stories seem to answer most appropriately the question “what happened?” (Grabe 2002: 252), and orient to an addressee’s expectancy of what will follow; that is, stories may simply recount a set of ‘ordinary’ events, or they may contain a set of unexpected or unusual events (Martin 1992: 568). In this way, stories tend to be activity-focussed rather than entity focussed. As discussed above, Labov and Waletsky (1967) have shown that narratives are staged social processes that minimally involve a Complication, Evaluation and Resolution. The general policy in SFL has been to retain Labov and Waletsky’s insight that a narrative is a certain genre, and to include narrative in the general family of story genres. In other words, the generic opposition is not narrative-expository, but story-expository. Reseach in SFL has revealed four kinds of story genres: Recount, Anecdote, Exemplum and Narrative (Martin 1992: 565; Martin & Plum 1997). Recounts provide an ‘unproblematic’ record of events, with evaluative comments being realized prosodically throughout the Recount. Anecdotes contain a remarkable or highly unusual event that generally receives an explicit reaction such as a laugh or groan from the audience. An Exemplum makes a judgment about a significant incident. The effect on the listener is generally to invoke approval or disapproval. Finally, narratives are stories that involve some kind of complication or crisis that is evaluated and in need of being resolved. According to Eggins and Slade (1997: 236), “successful narratives have a telos.” Listeners expect an end point to the narrative in which the crisis becomes resolved. In order to demonstrate how a story may be divided into functional stages, consider the recount produced by F in Ex. (3:14). (3:14) (A08P5) orientation 01 F: well tuhday for example. (2.0) where we then y’know 02 (1.5) I think she’s I think Wendy’s grumpy today. 03 it all goes back to y’know snoring in the middle of the 04 night sort’ve business (.) u::m (1.5) record 05 E: she asks are you going tuh shower. (1.0) 06 well (1.2) my answer wuz at the moment? (2.0) 07 uh which is flippant kinda 08 [obviously] I’m obviously I’m not showering .hh 09 T: [mhm]

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Systemic functional linguistics 

10 E: whadya mean (.) by that question 11 .hh are you going to shower this week? 12 today in the next half hour. (1.0) u::m y’know? (1.0) 13 but she wuz offended that I didn’t answer her question 14 properly 15 an I don’t (.) I didn’t have a question that I felt I could 16 answer properly coda 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

E: so .hh that’s what we’ve been going through today an we go through that off an on (1.0) is (.) just lousy communication (1.2) u::m (1.0) I don’t understand her question or she doesn’t underst(hh)e(h)hand my answer T: mhm E: uh an vice versa T: mhm .hh so you know that’s lousy communication.

This recount begins in lines 01–04 with an Orientation in which E signals what is to follow. Since E has stated that W is grumpy and that snoring in the night is in some way related to W’s grumpiness, we expect the subsequent clauses to address this. Lines 05–16 constitute the Record, and provide a series of recounted exchanges between W and F. This exchange involves W asking F a question about whether he is going to shower, and F’s response to W’s question. This exchange is also seeped with appraisal, and we can understand why by returning to Schutz’s claim concerning the principle of the congruency of relevances. Schutz argued that members of a culture will orient to this principle by interpreting phenomena in similar ways irrespective of their differing biographies or experiences. Recall Garfinkel’s experiment in which he had students respond to greetings or questions as if they were somehow ‘incomplete’ or ‘unclear’ or ‘in need of further explanation’. Here, the students were flouting the principle that they are able to interpret what the other is saying. Ex. (3:14) illustrates a similar phenomenon when F responds to W’s question with at the moment? . . . are you going to shower this week? today in the next half hour. F’s response, therefore, treats W’s question as somehow incomplete, which in turn draws social sanction from W. The final stage of this recount is a Coda. Through this stage, F is able to sum up and evaluate the activity sequences in the Record (that’s what we’ve been going through today; just lousy communication), which as a consequence enables him to move out of the story genre.

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 Chapter 3 specific participants description

personal recount autobiographical recount

entity focussed

activity focussed exposition report

explanation historical recount procedure

general participants

Figure 3.8 Topological representation of some expository and story genres

If we examine Ex. (3:14) with respect to Tenor and Mode, we see that this genre is activity focused and contains specific participants (e.g., I, she), a combination which was not realized in the expository genres listed above. Although as a general rule of thumb we could say that story genres have these register specifications, there are exceptions. The story genre produced by F is a personal recount, and it is typical feature of these genres to involve specific Participants (otherwise it would hardly be possible to call it personal) and to contain activity sequences describing “what happened”. Martin (1999b: 43), however, has also identified other kinds of recounts that have slightly different characteristics. Autobiographical recounts, for instance, contain a mixture of generic and specific participants, and historical recounts mainly contain generalized participants. Because genres seem to differ in terms of the degree to which they activate registerial features such as activity- vs. entity focussed, it becomes useful to consider genres from a topological perspective. According to Martin (1999b: 47), “topological description of this kind complements through fuzziness the categorical agnation normally associated with system networks and paradigms.” A topological classification of expository and narrative genres, adapted from Martin (1999b: 47), is shown in Figure 3.8. In topological diagrams systemic oppositions are reworked as parameters such that genres may be related to each other in terms of the semiotic space they occupy. Autobiographical recounts, for example, are positioned closer to the intersection between specific and general participants.

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Other field and mode parameters – including of course tenor parameters – will also become necessary for cross-classifying genres. Martin (1992: 563) has already suggested that explanations, expositions, discussions and explorations be compared in terms of interpersonal meanings. But register parameters are not the only kinds of criteria with which we may compare genres and genre families. Since genres are staged, there is also variation in the staging structure of different genres. Recall that narratives involve the stages Complication, Evaluation and Resolution, whereas personal recounts contain an obligatory Record stage. Generic stages will be addressed in more detail in Chapter 4. As a final note it should be mentioned that genre families are not restricted to expository and story. Martin (2002: 274) has argued that other families such as service encounter (Hasan 1985; Ventola 1987), interview (Jordens 2002; Jordens & Little in press) and control (Iedema 1995, 1997; Muntigl 2000, 2002; Rose et al. 1992) also be included in this list.

. Some implications of combining CA and SFL SFL’s theory of language and social context provides a semiotic basis for the various interpretive principles formulated in EM and CA research. First of all, stock of knowledge would include stock of knowledge of the semiotic systems of language and social context. It is knowing how semiotic systems are put to use, as text-making resources, that allows speakers to construct social reality. Moreover, these semiotic systems can account for speakers’ ability to adhere to a reciprocity of perspectives. For any given object of perception, a speaker can assume that his/her interlocutor can infer a relevant social context shared by both speakers, irrespective of speakers’ differing biographies or perspectives. The documentary method of interpretation translates into speakers’ knowledge and use of the resources of language in realizing social context. For every instance of language use (i.e., use of lexicogrammar and discourse semantics), speakers would be able to infer an associated social context; that is, register and genre. In addition, knowledge of the field, tenor or mode (i.e., register) or genre (e.g., narrative) will enable the speaker to make inferences about the kinds of lexicogrammatical or discourse semantic realizations to be expected. In this way, speakers are always able to either ‘retrieve’ the pattern or social context from a given utterance or fill in the particulars (i.e., text) from a given social context. One potential problematic area involves the question of units and how units relate to one another. For instance, in SFL, language and social context

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 Chapter 3

relate to each other via realization. Halliday (1978: 135) explicitly raises this point in his discussion of texts and clauses. For Halliday text is a semantic unit whereas a clause is a lexicogrammatical one. Since these units operate at different levels of semiosis, clauses do not constitute texts but realize them. Only units that differ in generality can exist in whole-part relationships. An example would be the units clause, Process, Participant and Circumstance. Here, clauses consist of the latter three elements since they form a whole-part relationship. Neither EM nor CA makes a distinction between realization and composition. Part of the reason for this is that they do not take a semiotic view of social processes; that is, different resources for meaning-making are not placed on different levels of abstraction and so language becomes a component part of every type of resource. Constituency also plays a role irrespective of whether the object of analysis concerns norms, intersubjectivity, social actions, turns, sequences, role relationships, identities, etc. Perhaps I am mistaken but I do not think that incorporating SFL’s concepts of realization (strata) and instantiation (text-system) would compromise the CA program of examining talk-in-interaction. In my view, SFL research adheres to Schegloff ’s insistence that relevance and procedural consequentiality form part of one’s analysis. Moreover, SFL can also provide more refined tools for demonstrating relevance; the kinds of dependancy relationships found at the level of discourse semantics, for instance, are just those kinds of relevant and procedural consequential links that CA needs in order to empirically bolster its claims. For this to happen, CA would first need to develop a different perspective on categories. Without this, CA will not be able to accept a systemic perspective of language. By remaining at the instance cline of language, it will be difficult for CA research to ever have anything substantial to say about language change, even at the level of logogenesis. Nonetheless, I would also argue that SFL stands to benefit from CA research. The multitude of studies on the sequential organization of interation in CA could certainly inform similar studies of exchange structure in SFL; and here I am specifically thinking about the interpersonal metafunction, negotiation, tenor and genre. Interpersonally, CA research has shown that exchanges involve more than the giving or demanding of information or goods and services. Exchanges also involve appraisal, normative frameworks, accountability and identity. Moreover, CA’s interest in speakers’ orientation to other’s talk could also bolster and provide more insight into SFL analyses of genre. Take for instance, CA’s deviant case analysis; if a kind of semantic unit is expected to occur at some place in an interactional sequence (say, a specific stage in a genre), speakers should, if this stage is a relevant unit of the genre, orient

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to its absence. This kind of orientation would be additional evidence for the existence or obligatory nature of that specific generic stage. Combining language models is always tricky business. My approach has been to point out the salient characteristics of each model and to suggest a few common threads. By focusing on commonalities, I have tried to build bridges between both approaches with the hope of fostering a meaningful dialogue. I want to emphasize, however, that I am not proposing a combinatory model for linguistic analysis. My discussion does not try to realize that aim; rather, it serves to illustrate the analytic/theoretical resources that I am drawing from. Although I see benefits in using both approaches, I tend to lean far more towards SFL than to CA or EM. This leaning will become clear in the subsequent chapters where I analyze narrative counselling sessions that involve a particular couple.

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Logogenesis Narrative counselling as macro-genre

. Overview In this chapter, I provide an outline of the logogenesis of the narrative counselling interview that I have examined. Change, from this perspective, is examined in terms of unfolding interactive processes in counselling. In order to say something about counselling logogenesis, it is important to describe the local and global changes that occur in counselling; this translates into an examination of the planes of language and social context, or, more specifically, lexicogrammar, discourse semantics, register and genre. Social interactions, however, may involve more than a single genre for their accomplishment. A narrative counselling session, for instance, cannot be reduced to a single expository or story genre. Instead, clients and therapists move into and out of genres as the interaction unfolds. These kinds of multiple generic structures within social exchanges are referred to as macro-genres (Martin 1997). As more types of genres come into play in the unfolding of text, the question of how to represent textual logogenesis becomes increasingly important; for not only do we want to identify which genres go into realizing a social interaction, but we also want to mention how these genres meaningfully interrelate.

. Representing generic structure How should genres be represented? Martin (1995) suggests that generic structure be modelled in terms of clause structure; that is, from experiential, logical, interpersonal and textual perspectives. Thus, from an experiential perspective genres may be represented compositionally, in which a genre consists of a number of functional parts. An example of a narrative with all possible stages, shown in Figure 4.1, illustrates this part/whole structure. Note that not all

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 Chapter 4 narrative

(Abstract)

(Orientation)

Complication

Evaluation

Resolution

(Coda)

Figure 4.1 The generic structure of a narrative

stages are obligatory, and we can represent these optional stages by placing parentheses around them as in (Abstract) or (Orientation). Stages are not only parts of a larger whole, but also tend to occur in sequence. As Labov (1972) has demonstrated, a narrative tends to unfold in the sequence shown in Figure 4.1. Stages are, therefore, dependent on each other, since a Complication will sequentially implicate a Resolution. Furthermore, a Resolution will imply that some Complicating action has preceded it. This notion of an interdependency between parts draws from Halliday’s (1994) account of logical meaning. Seen from this perspective, stages both presuppose something that has gone before, and implicate that something will follow. Some stages, however, seem to resist either compositional or serial analysis. Labov’s (1972) Evaluation stage in a narrative, for example, tends to occur not in a particular sequential location in the narrative, but throughout the whole narrative. One explanation for this is that evaluating persons and phenomena is an interpersonal act. Halliday (2002[1981/1982]) suggested already some time ago that interpersonal meanings differ from ideational ones in that they are realized prosodically. One important feature of prosodic realization is that it enables a speaker to amplify an interpersonal meaning. If, for instance, someone were to repeat an evaluation throughout a narrative, the evaluation in question would gain in strength with each successive realization. Finally, some stages do not lend themselves very well to a compositional, serial or prosodic reading. These stages tend to occur at the beginnings and ends of genres, and are commonly realized as Abstracts, Orientations and Codas. Each of these genres orient to textual meanings, in that they provide the point of departure for the genre or they summarize the new information that has accumulated throughout the genre. The former is similar to Theme, whereas the latter is reminiscent of New. A story Abstract, for example, is like a clause Theme, because it establishes a main point of the story, and it projects forward by signaling to the listener that a story is about to be told. Codas, by contrast, are similar to New, because they summarize the main point(s) (i.e., the new information) expressed during the story. Unlike Abstracts they project back to preceding parts of the text. Halliday (2002[1981/1982]) characterizes

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Logogenesis 

[(G)˙(SI)^] [(SE˙) {SR^SC} ^S^] P^PC (^F) SI = sale initiation SR = sale request ^ = sequence SC = sale compliance SE = sale enquiry ˙ = more than one option in sequence S = sale P = purchase ( ) = optionality PC = purchase closure F = finis [ ] = domain of order G = greeting { } = applies to all elements

= iteration

Figure 4.2 The generic structure of a service encounter

textual meanings as periodic, since they move in wave-like patterns or cycles of semiosis. Whereas an Abstract will begin a cycle by projecting what is to come, a Coda will close off the cycle by summarizing what has been accomplished. By adopting Halliday’s (2002[1981/1982]) different metafunctional perspectives on clauses and texts, as Martin (1995) does, we gain considerable insight into how genres are structured. Nonetheless, some genres seem to offer a major challenge in terms of the numerous ways in which their generic stages may be realized. Consider the generic structure of a service encounter in Figure 4.2, taken from Hasan (1985: 60). The stages G, SI, SE and F are optional, whereas SR, SC, S, P and PC are obligatory. Hasan has added a number of other symbols to capture the complexity of this service encounter interaction. For instance, certain stages such as SE and the sequence {SR ^ SC} can be repeated. The order of stages in the sequence may also vary. The first two stages, G and SI, may appear in either order (i.e., either as G^SI or SI^G). These different options in sequential unfolding are expressed with the symbol ‘˙’. Finally, different style brackets such as ‘{}’ or ‘[ ]’ are used to illustrate that certain sequences of elements behave differently than others. As an example, brackets show us that optionality in sequence applies only to G and SI, and not G, SI and SE together. Drawing once again from Halliday’s (1994) work on clause rank, Martin (1995) has shown that we also need to view genre in terms of the ranking of its elements. From an experiential perspective, generic stages such as Abstract and Orientation are ranked below genre. Just as clauses may be down-ranked to group or phrase level, so can genres be down-ranked to stage level. Consider an example of a historical account genre in Figure 4.3, taken from Muntigl (2003). According to Martin (2002: 272) historical accounts explain how certain events in history led to other events. Thus, cause and effect is a dominant motif in this genre. The historical account in Figure 4.3 is based on an analysis of a stu-

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 Chapter 4 historical account

Orientation

Background

Account

Interpretation

[[Historical Recount]]

Orientation

Record

Figure 4.3 The generic structure of a historical account

dent term paper from an Austrian university. What Muntigl (2003) found was that the Background stage consisted of an embedded historical recount genre, in which various ‘economic’ events following both world wars were reported. We can represent embedded gernes by following Martin’s (1995) suggestion of having the down-ranked genre appear at the same level as the stage that it is realizing (see Figure 4.3 for the representation of Background and [[Historical Recount]]).

. Language patterns and genre units How large or small can a stage be, and which criteria may we use to decide on the boundaries of a stage? The generic stages of Hasan’s (1985) service encounters seem to be of varying sequential length. An SR (sales request) may be realized in a single turn (or one move), whereas a SE (sale enquiry) can span across three speaker turns, as Ex. (4:1) from Hasan (1985: 61) shows. (4:1) SR SC SC SE SE

C S C C S

I’ll have ten oranges and a kilo of bananas please. (3) Yes, anything else? (4) Yes. I wanted some strawberries (5) but these don’t look very ripe. (6) O they’re ripe all right. (7) They’re just that colour kind a’ greeny pink. (8) SE C Mm I see. (9)

Ventola (1987: 21), however, argues explicitly against an interpretation of stage as a speech act or move:

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Logogenesis

Representing generic structures of service encounters in terms of speech acts and created adjacency pairs will not provide a powerful enough description to capture the various possibilities of combining speech acts in service encounter talk in a completely natural way. A more abstract, underlying concept of semiotic organization of service encounter interaction appears to be needed.

Although Ventola resists making a direct correspondence between stage and speech act or ‘adjaceny pair’, she relies instead on a different interpersonal unit: the speech exchange (see Berry 1981). In this interpretation all stages of a service encounter are realized by a single (or iterative) exchange. The unfolding from one exchange to the next will therefore mark a shift in generic stage. A reanalysis of Ex. (4:1) shows how exchanges may be mapped onto stages (S=Service; SB=Service Bid): (4:2) S S SB SB S S S

C I’ll have ten oranges and a kilo of bananas please. S Yes, anything else? C Yes. C I wanted some strawberries but these don’t look very ripe. S O they’re ripe all right. They’re just that colour kind a’ greeny pink. C Mm I see.

Each of the two stages in Ex. (4:2) correspond to an exchange of conservational moves; a Service is realized in a request-acceptance exchange (note that the second Service also contains a Follow-up move by C), and a Service Bid is realized in an offer-acceptance exchange. Identifying exchanges is important for detecting stages, for, as Ventola (1987: 54) argued, “the generic structure elements must be considered as a joint effort of achieving/completing a stage of social activity in a situation.” Nonetheless, an exchange cannot be the sole criterion, since we have already seen that story genres in dialogue often consist of a single turn, yet they contain a series of stages. Similarly for genres in a written medium, many stages can be realized, even though there has not been any process sharing between interactants. If we can’t adequately rely on the category of exchange for stories or written genres, how can we say with any assurance that, in the absence of an exchange, more than one stage has been produced? It was Hasan (1985) who pointed out that a generic stage corresponds to a certain contextual configuration. Therefore, being in a different stage means that there has been a significant shift in contextual features. Furthermore, changes in contextual fea-

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Chapter 4

tures imply that different linguistic options have been activated. Essentially, different stages are associated with different language patterns (compare with Gregory’s 1985 concept of phase, which corresponds to unique patterns of ideational, interpersonal and textual meanings). In sum, although exchange is an important resource for identifying different stages in social interaction, we need to broaden this perspective by also considering grammatical (e.g., Theme, Mood, Transitivity) and discourse semantic differences. Basically, we need to be doing the kinds of genre analyses that Jim Martin and his colleagues have been doing for over twenty years now.

. Macro-genres After having briefly addressed the complex issues of representing genres and how genres are related to language patterns, I now turn to a social process, a macro-genre, that poses an equal, if not greater, challenge in terms of representation. According to Martin (1997: 16), the term macro-genre refers to texts that combine elements from different genres. Simply put, macro-genres may be viewed as texts that realize multiple genres in sequence – They are not embedded genres of the type seen in Figure 4.3. Extensive work on macro-genres has been done in the fields of pedagogy (Christie 1997, 1998, 1999) and health care (Jordens 2002; Jordens & Little in press). .. Curriculum macro-genres Christie (1998) examined curriculum teaching of upper primary science in Australia in terms of a set of goal oriented interactions or genres. Christie found that a curriculum logogenetically unfolds through the genres of Initiation, Collaboration and Closure. A constituency representation of the curriculum macro-genre of upper primary science, adapted from Christie (1998: 157), is shown in Figure 4.4. The top-most level of Figure 4.4, Curriculum teaching, corresponds to the macro-genre. At the level below, three genres are depicted in series. The first genre in the curriculum macro-genre is Curriculum Initiation. This genre is, in turn, composed of three sequential stages (sequence is represented by ‘^’). The first stage is called Task Orientation and involves the teacher directing students and setting the aims of the curriculum. The second stage, Task Specification, involves the establishment of students’ tasks. The third and final stage, Task Conference, consists of the teacher and students deciding on

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Logogenesis Curriculum Teaching

1 Curriculum Initiation

Ù

Ù Ù Task Task Task Orientation Specification Conference

=2 Curriculum Collaboration

Task* Collaboration

Ù

x3 Curriculum Closure

Recount* Ù Procedure*

Figure 4.4 A constituency representation of the upper primary science curriculum macro-genre

how tasks are to be distributed among the groups. The second genre, Curriculum Collaboration, consists of Task Collaboration, which is a recursive stage (Recursion is represented by ‘*’). In this stage, students work in groups to accomplish a procedural task. The final genre, Curriculum Closure, consists of the genre Recount followed by the genre Procedure. These genres also operate recursively. The former genre is oral, in which students recount their tasks, and the latter genre is a written procedure, whereby students instruct others how to perform the task. One question that arises when considering genres or macro-genres is how, in addition to being sequentially related, the genres relate to each other. Martin (1995) suggests that larger-than-clause units may be examined by way of interdependency (i.e., taxis) or logico-semantic relations (i.e., projection and expansion). In this way, the relationship between genres that constitute a macro-genre may be considered in terms of whether they are paratactically or hypotactically linked and whether one genre quotes, reports, elaborates, extends or enhances another. Christie’s analysis of the curriculum macro-genre shows that the Initiation, Collaboration and Closure genres are paratactically linked. Paratactic relations, as should be recalled from Chapter 3, are represented using numerals (1, 2, 3. . . ), whereas hypotactic relations are indicated through Greek notation (α, β, γ. . . ). A paratactic linking of genres implies that the genres are of equal status, though still interdependent. Logico-semantically, Curriculum Collaboration is interpreted as an elaboration (represented by ‘=’) of Curriculum Initiation and, in this way, “expands upon the former, primarily by exemplifying what has been opened up in the Curriculum Initiation” (Christie 1998: 158). The relationship between Curriculum Collaboration and

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Chapter 4

Curriculum Closure is one of enhancement (shown by ‘x’) since the latter expands, through the semantics of purpose and judgment, the former genre. Christie also devoted attention to the kinds of registers that realize the curriculum macro-genre. The two dominant registers operative within the curriculum macro-genre are identified as regulative and instructional. Christie’s analysis of register draws heavily from Bernstein’s (1996) work on pedagogic discourse. Bernstein claimed that pedagogic discourse embeds two kinds of discourses, regulative and instructional discourse, and that regulating student activities or behaviour additionally regulates the way in which students are provided with skills. In Bernstein’s (1996: 48) words: Fundamental to my argument is that the regulative discourse is the dominant discourse. In one sense, this is obvious because it is the moral discourse that creates the criteria which give rise to character, manner, conduct, posture, etc. In school, it tells children what to do, where they can go, and so on. It is quite clear that regulative discourse creates the rules of social order. However, I also want to argue that regulative discourse produces the order in the instructional discourse. There is no instructional discourse which is not regulated by the regulative discourse. If this is so, the whole order of the pedagogic discourse is constituted by the regulative discourse.

Putting Bernstein’s insights into SFL terms, his concepts of regulation and instruction have been reinterpreted as registers (not discourses), in which the regulative register projects the instructional register (Christie 1998). Thus a pedagogic discourse is realized as a combination of regulative and instructional registers that are logico-semantically related via projection. In this way, the tenor of pedagogy provides the frame for the field of pedagogy. Or, in other words, directing students shapes the content of what is instructed within the classroom. Although the regulative register is always functioning in pedagogy, it is not always foregounded. Christie, for instance, has shown that, whereas the regulative register is foregrounded in the beginning stages of the curriculum macro-genre, it tends to become backgrounded in the latter stages when students take increasingly more responsibility for their own learning. It is in these latter stages where the instructional register becomes foregrounded. .. Narrative-style interview macro-genre Jordens’ (2002) research has focused on the kinds of stories that survivors of colorectal cancer and clinicians who are involved in treating and managing this form of cancer produce during interviews. One of the general aims of Jordens’

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Logogenesis

Test Recording ^ Preliminaries ^ Story ^ Weakly-structured Interview ^ (Rolereversal) ^ Negotiate Closure ^ Sign-off Figure 4.5 The staging structure of the narrative-style interview macro-genre

work was to show how values are differentially realized in cancer survivors’ and clinicians’ stories. Jordens was also able to demonstrate how interviews with survivors or clinicians involved different kinds of genres over time, forming a narrative-style interview macro-genre. According to Jordens and Little (2003) the interview is referred to as narrative-style because the purpose of this macrogenre is to elicit stories from interviewees. The staging structure of this macrogenre is shown in Figure 4.5 (adapted from Jordens & Little 2003). Since these interviews were taped, the macro-genre began with a Test Recording. Following that were the Preliminaries, which included such activities as restating the purpose of the interview. The Story stage marked the beginning of the interview proper. In this stage, interviewers helped to elicit stories such as autobiographical recounts from their interviewees. The subsequent stage, Weakly-structured Interview, was signalled by the interviewer’s frequent questions. It is weakly-structured, because the speech roles of the interactants may be reversed, such that the interviewee may begin asking questions. Such role-reversals also realize a (optional) stage in the interview macrogenre. The closing of the interview is negotiated in a Negotiate Closure stage. And, finally, the Sign-off marks the end of the interview.

. The counselling macro-genre In this section I show that the form of counselling that I have investigated is a type of macro-genre. The central core of the counselling macro-genre involves two genres: Problem Construction and Problem Effacement. These genres together constitute a logogenetic process that is teleological on the one hand, yet rhetorically responsive to previous situations and events on the other. Taking the latter into account first, counselling is a couples’ response to relationship difficulties. Since difficulties or problems tend to imply responses or solutions in ‘western’ culture (think of all the procedural genres that involve some form of troubleshooting), couples who seek counselling may be viewed as actively and publically engaging in a cultural practice that specializes in dealing with social problems. In some respects counselling represents the institutionalization of social (often referred to instead as psychological) problems.

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Chapter 4

[Test Recording ^ (Preliminaries) ^ (Abstract) ^ Narrative Counselling Interview ^ Negotiate Closure ^ (Sign-off)]* Figure 4.6 The counselling macro-genre

As well as being a response to relationship difficulties, the counselling macro-genre has a telos, in that it is purposeful and orients to an end point. This end point is, however, not known in advance. In the first session, counsellor and clients do not ‘know’ what precedes them. They do not, for instance, know how the problem will be construed or how and if the problem will be effaced. The how of problem construction and effacement unfolds, as the interaction between counsellor and clients unfolds. In spite of the claim that counsellors and clients do not know what precedes them, they still orient to what I argue to be the two most basic kinds of goal-oriented genres of narrative counselling: problem construction and problem effacement. For this counsellor and couple, constructing problems and effacing them are what drives the interaction forwards. Seen in terms of its entirety, the counselling macro-genre has a generic structure that bears resemblance to Jordens and Little’s (in press) interview macro-genre. Counselling, I suggest, is also a form of interviewing. Furthermore, the core activity of counselling is preceded by preliminary and closing activities. The macro-generic structure for counselling is shown in Figure 4.6. My expectation is that the sequential structure in Figure 4.6 will hold across different forms of counselling and therapy. The one stage that I expect will show internal differences is the Counselling Interview stage. For instance, cognitivebehavioural or experiential therapy should logogenetically unfold as a different interviewing process, and this should be reflected in the kinds of genres, stages and linguistic patterns realizing the interview. I am currently involved in a research project on different forms of couples counselling with Adam Horvath from Simon Fraser University that hopes to shed some light on these issues. Since the counselling sessions were audio- and tape-recorded, the sessions began with a Test Recording stage, in which the video and audio equipment was set up and tested – this testing was not always captured on tape. The second stage, Preliminaries, refers to various ‘house keeping’ activities such as filling out forms, friendly chat, introducing oneself (only pertains to the first session) and supplying contact information. The Preliminary stage is optional, as indicated by the enclosed brackets ‘( )’. Although the first session always contains a Preliminary stage, it is not unlikely for clients and counselling in subsequent sessions to begin the interview immediately with hardly any preliminary talk.

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After the preliminaries drew to an end, the counsellor produced an Abstract in the form of a written letter that was ‘read aloud’, by summarizing the main events in the previous session and by posing questions for the current session – the first session, of course, did not contain an Abstract stage, since there were no past events to refer back to. I consider the Abstract stage to be optional, because it does not occur in the first session, and because it is unique to a specific form of counselling termed narrative therapy (see White & Epston 1990). Other forms of counselling that I have examined did not include a counsellor’s summarizing of the events of the previous session. Metafunctionally, the first three stages orient to textual meanings. The Abstract stage in particular conditions the point of departure for the ensuing interview by summarizing the new information that was constructed in prior sessions. Similarly, the last two stages also play a textual role by closing up the macro-genre. The Negotiate Closure stage involves a movement out of the Interview. This movement is sometimes achieved by summarizing some of the main points that came out of the interview, and sometimes by negotiating the date of future sessions. The final stage, Sign-off, is optional and signals the end of the session and the end of recording activity. The counselling macro-genre is recursive, which means that each session (there were six in total) sequentially unfolded in terms of the stages shown in Figure 4.6. As previously mentioned, the Narrative Counselling Interview forms the core of the counselling macro-genre, and consists of a Problem Construction and Problem Effacement genre. It is through these genres that clients’ problems are interactively produced and negotiated. A complete description of the genres, stages and phases of the Narrative Counselling Interview stage is shown in the constituency diagram of Figure 4.7. Turning to the first genre of the counselling interview, problem construction, I argue that narrative counselling shares features with expository genres, since counsellors attempt to identify phenomena and then explain them. However, narrative counselling does not, as in registers of science (see Halliday & Martin 1993), use technical terms such as projection or transference to classify or taxonomize problems and client behaviour. Rather events (i.e., problem behaviours) are construed as the agent in cause-effect relationships. Finally, the first stage of problem construction, Problem Identification, contains an embedded story genre. When problems are being identified, clients tend to formulate events using the genre recount. With this genre clients are able to evaluate self or other’s behaviour in terms of usualness (e.g., I/he always does it). Construing behaviour with this form of modalization sequentially implicates a counsellor reformulation, which enables problem identification.

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Chapter 4

Since narrative counselling is realized by goal-oriented genres, it is implied that one genre is a necessary prerequisite for the subsequent genre. Therefore, in order for the second genre of counselling to occur, a problem (or problems) must first have been constructed. Effacing previously construed problems involves two stages: Identification of Alternative Events and Alternative Event and Client Agency. Once problems and their effects have been identified, counselling moves on to the identification of events that contrast with the events caused by the problem. For example, if the ‘problem’ causes a client to be indecisive, a contrasting event would entail an instance in which the client made a decision. As in the problem construction genre, alternative event identification contains an embedded story genre. However, the story genre found in this stage is not a recount but a narrative. Here, clients produce narratives in which they are able to resolve a crisis. A narrative, in turn, sequentially implicates a counsellor reformulation and positive appraisal of the client’s narrative. Following this stage, the interaction then proceeds to the second stage in which an alternative event or the client is construed as an agent of client behaviour. In sum, effacing problems translates into identifying alternative events to those that the problem causes and construing these events or clients, rather than the problem, as the agents of client behaviour. In addition, client narrative fits coherently into the effacement genre since narrative also involves the ‘effacement’ of a crisis. A few words need to be said about how I have represented the Narrative Counselling Interview. Whereas the Narrative Counselling Interview is a stage of the more general counselling macro-genre of Figure 4.6, it is also a macrogenre because it consists of different genres. The Interview in Figure 4.7 has been given a constituency representation, which is modelled in terms of experiential clause structure. I have, however, also incorporated a logical perspective, by highlighting the sequence of generic elements and how these elements are logically interdependent. For instance, the two genres of the narrative interview, Problem Construction and Problem Effacement, are paratactically interdependent in which Problem Effacement extends (represented by ‘+’) the Problem Construction genre. Extension operates here by adding an alternative to the prior genre. Whereas the first genre involves the construction of a kind of problem, the second genre involves an alternative to the problem. Alternatives are often realized by the formulation of behaviours that oppose the problem in some way. By arguing that these two genres are paratactically related, I am stating that Problem Construction and Problem Effacement have an equal status. This, however, does not mean that the second genre may precede the first. The order is important here since counsellor and clients cannot efface prob-

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Logogenesis Narrative Counselling Interview Ù

1 Problem Construction* (Genre 1)

Ù x2 1 Problem Indentification Problem Agency (Stage 2) (Stage 1)

Ù 1 =2 Formulation Reformulation [[Recount]]

O Ù REC Ù C

O = Orientation REC = Record C = Coda

+2 Problem Effacement* (Genre 2)

Ù 1 x2 Identification of Alternative Event and Alternative Events Client Agency (Stage 1) (Stage 2)

Ù 1 =2 Formulation Reformulation [[Narrative]]

COMP Ù E Ù RES

COMP = Complication RES = Resolution E = Evaluation

Figure 4.7 A constituency representation of the macro-genre and staging structure of the Narrative Counselling Interview stage

lems before they have been identified. Moving a further level down, the stages of both Problem Construction and Problem Effacement are also paratactically interdependent, but their logico-semantic relation is marked by enhancement rather than extension. For both genres, the second stage (i.e., Problem Agency for the former and Alternative Event and Client Agency for the latter) adds a dimension of Cause. In the first genre, the problem becomes construed as the Agent of negative client behaviours and, in the second genre, an alternative behaviour or the Client is construed as the Agent of new positive behaviours. The final type of interdependency relation is found within the first stages of each genre. Problem Identification and Identification of Alternative Events are both realized in two-part sequences in which the reformulation (the 2nd sequence part) is an elaboration of the formulation (the 1st sequence part). Note that the genres Recount and Narrative are embedded within the formulation part of the stage1 of each genre. Embedded means that the genres have been down-ranked

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 Chapter 4

from the status of ‘genre’ (whole) to the status of ‘stage’ (part). The story genres thus have been pushed down one level in the constituency hierarchy. Recursion was found to be a property of both problem construction and problem effacement; that is, once a problem was identified and attributed with agency, the counsellor and clients tended to repeat the genre, by identifying other agentive problems. Therefore, problem effacement did not immediately follow a single instance of problem construction, but occurred only after a series of problems had been constructed. Also, neither the individual stages nor the sequence displayed recursion. For example, Problem Agency always immediately followed Problem Identification. It was never the case that a series of problems were identified first, only to be attributed with agency later on in the interaction. In order to provide a brief illustration of these genres, stages and sequence parts and how they realize the narrative counselling interview macro-genre, I provide an example of how a certain problem, doing it right, gets constructed and effaced. Theses genres and stages are illustrated below in Ex. (4:3). Problem Construction occurs in session two, whereas Problem Effacement occurs in session three. Genres are represented in bold and small caps, stages are underlined and sequential parts are set in italics. (4:3) problem construction (Session 2) Problem Identification Formulation [[Recount]] F: yeah (.) my style is that okay once (1.0) once I think (1.2) there’s something that usually its because something has to be done .hh we haf tuh go somewhere. there’s a trip. right. coming coming to this appointment .hh I start thinking well what what else can we do: (0.7) on the way on the way back y’know good things together an then I get (0.8) uh maybe get lecture but no I get momentarily organized right okay .hh we should do this right we should not leaving any (0.7) loose ends untied .hh and I guess I get I get d’I go in a different mode kinda serious .hh

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Logogenesis

okay now now I’m in charge (0.8) or I wanna be I want t’plan this .hh wh- th- that’s what I feel like getting me okay now I want t’plan this right .hh so we don’t waste Reformulation C: let’s go with that [let’s] go with the whole notion of doing it right F: [yeah] C: [this is something] that I think u- a lot of [men] men in particular have? F: [and u::h] [yeah] C: .hh about doing it right? C: d’ya wanna talk [about] doing it right? F: [yeah] . . . Problem Agency C: =.hh well looks at this idea about doing th- doing doing it right. yeah? .hh um (1.5) u::m (0.8) o::h what um like when you think about doing it right can you imagine what way that would shape how you would do things how you how you would approach things. (3.5) F: u::m .hh well I’d wanna know what’s it gonna co:st . . . problem effacement (Session 3) Identification of Alternative Events C: d did our session la::st week in any way help you tuh look at your relationship tuh decision making differently (1.5) F: I don’t know if it different maybe I just examined it more C: uh huh= F: a::nd uh

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(3.5) C: mhm. what conclusion did you come up with (.) Fomulation [[Narrative]] F: I think I got I think I got to a a decision: a little faster (0.8) C: uh huh= F: =right um C: did it make [sense to ] F: [something’s] gotta be done (0.8) is this is this goin to be vital if its done the wrong way. I could even afford tuh do this the wrong way I’ll just do it (.) an [I c’n an I c’n ] Reformulation [you said I c’n even ] afford tuh do this the wrong way?= =mhm= =you said that yourself this week? yeah (1.0) or I c’n: (.) I c’n do it over again if I did it wrong right . . . Client Agency C: uh huh (.) so I c’n even afford tuh do it the wrong way an I still made a decision an I made a decision. (4.0) are you telling me that you’re seeing through you’re starting tuh see through the problem. the way in which you get tricked into not making decisions (1.5) F: y:eah its well I’m not even sure that I wuz ever getting well maybe I wuz getting tricked. (.) it might’ve been a: a good way tuh not do anything. wuz tuh keep thinking about how tuh do it

C: F: C: F:

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In this example, the first stage of problem construction, Problem Identification, begins with a formulation in which F provides a recount (a story genre) of his decision making. Important clauses in this reformulation are: okay .hh we should do this right and okay now I want t’plan this right .hh. In the following sequence part, C elaborates on what F has said by reformulating two of F’s clauses into let’s go with the whole notion of doing it right. It is at this point that a problem has been identified. F’s formulation of his decision making has been abstracted through nominalization as doing it right. Once problems become abstracted in this way, counselling generally moves to Problem Agency, the second stage of problem construction. In Problem Agency, abstracted problems are associated with causality. Problems are thus construed as agents that instigate negative behaviour. In C’s clause can you imagine what way that would shape how you would do things how you how you would approach things, the problem doing it right (realized as that) is realized as an agent that instigates or shapes F’s actions. Problem effacement involves alternative construals of previously constructed problems. In the first stage of problem effacement, Identification of Alternative Events, F formulates a behaviour that opposes the problem doing it right. F’s formulation contains an embedded Narrative, in which he demonstrates how he overcame the crisis of not being able to decide. His resolution of the crisis translated into opposing the problem doing it right in that he could even afford tuh do this the wrong way. C’s subsequent reformulation elaborates on the prior sequence part by projecting and quoting F’s formulation (you said I c’n even afford tuh do this the wrong way?). The second stage of problem effacement, Client Agency, involves construing the client or an alternative event as the Agent of clients’ positive behaviours. The claim that F or F’s actions are being attributed with agency becomes tenable if the relationship between the clauses so I c’n even afford tuh do it the wrong way an I still made a decision and are you telling me that you’re seeing through you’re starting tuh see through the problem is considered. I argue that the implicit logico-semantic relationship between these clauses involves manner. Consider the following reformulation of C’s clauses with an added explicit manner preposition and a verbal Process: Manner so (by saying) I c’n even afford tuh do it the wrong way an I still made a decision are you telling me that you’re seeing through you’re starting tuh see through the problem

In other words, F’s formulation of an alternative event enables him to see through (i.e., overcome) the problem. In this way, the formulation of alternative events allows F to instigate or bring about change. Furthermore, asso-

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 Chapter 4

ciating the client with the means or ability to instigate change effaces problem agency. By formulating alternative events that enable positive behaviours, the problem loses its ability to shape or instigate negative behaviours.

. Counselling as pedagogic discourse Turning now to register, I argue that the narrative counselling interview is realized by a pedagogic discourse that includes both a regulative and instructional register. Regulation involves the degree to which clients’ social actions are managed by the counsellor. As Christie (1997: 136) claims, “the first order or regulative register refers to sets of language choices which are principally involved in establishing goals for teaching-learning activities, and with fostering and maintaining the direction of the activities until the achievement of the goals.” The instructional register, on the other hand, largely involves the ‘content of knowledge’ or the field of meanings that are to be taught. Thus, instruction in this sense involves the ways in which clients are meant to construe experience (i.e., common sense, specialized, technical, etc.). Furthermore, the regulation of clients’ social actions projects the way in which clients are instructed. In other words, it is by regulating clients’ verbal behaviour that a certain view of problems and their influences becomes possible. In order to illustrate how regulation and instruction is realized in counselling, it is important to examine register and the language patterns used to realize register. Since the regulative register primarily involves managing social actions and behaviours, it is predominantly organized by tenor. In the type of counselling examined, regulation involves the construction of the counsellor as the expert and the clients as novices. In addition, regulation is facilitated by a low degree of social distance and high degree of positive affect in which the counsellor positively appraises clients’ formulations of alternative events that oppose the problem. Counsellor expertise is constructed through the discourse semantics of exchange structure. Consider the following reformulation taken from Ex. (4:3). (4:4) F: but no I get momentarily organized right okay .hh we should do this right we should not leaving any (0.7) loose ends untied .hh and I guess .

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Logogenesis 

. . C: let’s go with that [let’s] go with the whole notion of doing it right F: [yeah]

Through this formulation-reformulation exchange, C regulates the way in which F’s experiential world is to be construed. This means that F’s construal of his behaviour as a series of clauses becomes repackaged by C as a nominalized thing (i.e., this doing it right). Regulation is also dominant in the Problem Agency stage. In this stage, C utilizes question-answer (Q-A) exchanges in order to get clients to provide the causal effects of the problem. In Ex. (4:5), C asks F what effect the problem, doing it right, has on him. (4:5) Q C: can you imagine what way that would shape how you would do things how you how you would approach things. (3.5) A F: u::m .hh well I’d wanna know what’s it gonna co:st

F responds by saying that I’d wanna know what’s it gonna co:st. In other words, by responding in this way, F identifies what doing it right causes him to want to know. A summary of the meanings that realize the regulative register is shown in Table 4.1. It was argued previously that, in a pedagogic discourse, regulation projects instruction. This means that the way in which social actions are regulated will provide a frame for the kind of instruction or apprenticeship that will take place. In the counselling example above, regulation was largely realized by counsellor expertise in which counsellor reformulated clients’ formulations and asked clients to provide specific information. Through the regulation of interaction, counselling becomes aligned with a certain type of field. Ideationally, clients’ congruent construal of their own or other’s behaviour becomes metaphorically reconstrued (i.e., reformulated) as a thing. This reconstrual allows problems such as doing it right to become identified and, later on, to become associated with agency. Instruction, therefore, entails getting clients to talk abstractly about behaviour and to relate behaviours causally, in which a problem causes other negative behaviours or an alternative event causes other positive behaviours. A summary of the meanings that realize the instructional register is shown in Table 4.2.

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 Chapter 4

Table 4.1 Synoptic overview of meanings that realize the regulative register in narrative counselling Regulative Register Register Variable tenor social relation: counsellor is expert; client is novice; social distance: counsellor positively appraises client formulations of alternative events affect: happiness; satisfaction

Discourse Semantics appraisal appreciation: reaction; affect resources exchange question/answer; formulation/ reformulation

Lexicogrammar interpersonal mood, expletives ideational verbal: quoting

Table 4.2 Synoptic overview of meanings that realize the instructional register in narrative counselling Instructional Register Register Variable field implication sequence constructing; problems, alternative events and consequences; clarifying meanings

Interaction Patterns gr. metaphor nominalization

Discourse Semantics conjunction reformulation; consequential

Lexicogrammar ideational relational clause: identifying; verbal: reporting or quoting; Agent: problem, alternative event or client

Regulation and instruction pervade both the problem construction and effacement genres of counselling; that is, clients’ social actions are being regulated throughout the counselling process and this regulation frames the way in which clients are instructed to construe problems. Although both genres place similar kinds of meanings in register and language at risk, there is some variation in the way in which language is being used. A summary of some of the main differences is given in Table 4.3. I will briefly comment on the contents of the table, leaving the more detailed discussion for the subsequent analysis chapters.

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Logogenesis 

Table 4.3 Synoptic overview of meanings in the narrative counselling interview of problem construction and problem effacement “Problem Construction”

“Problem Effacement”

register ‘Regulation’ ‘Instruction’

mode specific participants; language is constitutive field implication sequence constructing; problems and consequences; clarifying/reworking meanings tenor social relation: counsellor is expert; client is novice

mode specific participants; language is constitutive field implication sequence constructing; alternative events and consequences tenor social relation: counsellor is expert; client is novice; social distance: counsellor positively appraises client formulations affect: happiness and satisfaction

interaction patterns

grammatical metaphor nominalization

grammatical metaphor nominalization

discourse semantics conjunction reformulation; consequential appraisal judgement: normality exchange question/answer; formulation/reformulation

lexicogrammar

conjunction reformulation; consequential appraisal appreciation: reaction; judgement: normality, tenacity, potentiality; affect: happiness, satisfaction exchange question/answer; formulation/reformulation

ideational ideational relational clause: identifying; verbal: quoting; verbal: reporting; Agent: client or alternative Agent: problem event interpersonal interpersonal modalization: usuality; modulation: ability, inclination; non-finite tense: realis modalization: unusuality; non-finite tense: irrealis textual textual theme: client/problem; theme: client/alternative event; rheme: client behaviour rheme: client behaviour

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 Chapter 4

In terms of a pedagogic discourse, narrative counselling sets probabilities for certain kinds of meanings within mode, field and tenor. Beginning with Mode, both genres involve specific Participants and make language a constitutive part of the social process that it realizes. The most common realizations of specific Participants are ‘the problem’ and each of the clients. Language, therefore, is not used to talk about problems in general and the effects that they have on people but on specific problems and the specific effects that they have on these clients. At the level of language, these specific Participants are textually realized as clause Theme. According to Martin (1992: 448), this serves an interactive function since the Theme (the subject of the clause) is made modally responsible, thereby making the clause’s proposition negotiable. Instruction is primarily realized through field. The field of the counselling data that I have analyzed is implication sequence constructing but, unlike science, it is not taxonomy constructing. In other words, technicality is not a resource in narrative counselling. This counsellor does not re-define clients’ formulations with respect to a psychological or psychotherapeutic terminology. Although clients’ formulations are transformed, these formulations are not related to technical terms that are contained within psychotherapeutic taxonomies that list client disorders. Instead, the counsellor’s reformulations are grounded in clients’ formulations. Ideationally, counselling construes reality in terms of consequential relations; that is, in problem construction, problems cause negative client behaviours and in problem effacement, alternative events cause positive behaviours. However, counselling is not only about doing; it is also about verbalizing and thinking and, in the Problem Identification stage, giving problem behaviour a specific valeur through a Token-Value relationship. At the level of the discourse semantics, reformulation and consequence play an important role in realizing field and, at the level of the ideational metafunction, verbal and relational Processes and analytic causatives (see Chapter 5, 6 and 7) are critical resources. The differences between the two genres may be seen in the ideational metafunction, in which different meanings are put at risk. Whereas problem construction is realized by reformulating identifying relational clauses and verbal clauses that report clients’ prior formulations, problem effacement involves reformulating verbal clauses that quote clients’ formulations. The difference between these two ways of reformulating is that the former is used to nominalize problem events such that they may be realized as the Agents of client behaviour, whereas the latter is used to positively appraise clients’ formulations of an alternative event.

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Logogenesis 

Differences in the regulative register may primarily be seen with respect to Tenor. The social relations enacted through interpersonal meanings involve the social roles of expert and novice. The counsellor is the expert who reconstrues client reality by reformulating it. The counsellor is also the one who asks ‘leading’ questions that orient to a specific goal. In this way, the counsellor gets the client to provide the information that will successfully realize the counsellor’s aims. One general difference between problem construction and effacement concerns appraisal. The counsellor positively appraises client formulations of alternate events. Counsellor appraisal serves two functions. First, it places the counsellor in the higher status position of being the one who values client formulations. But it also indexes lower social distance because it demonstrates that the counsellor is, interpersonally, more emotionally concerned with what the client has formulated. Additional differences involve client appraisals. In problem construction, clients use recount genres to negatively appraise self or other, whereas in problem effacement, clients use narrative genres for positive appraisal of self. The final interpersonal differences involve modality and tense. In problem construction, client formulations realize high-value modalization by emphasizing the high degree of usuality in which self or other negatively behaves. When in the problem effacement stage, however, clients tend to emphasize the unusuality of their new behaviour and, in this way, provide a lucid contrast to the old problems that instigated unwanted behaviour. Furthermore, problem effacement is also marked by client ability and irrealis tense. In this genre, new events are cast in terms of clients’ ability to realize them and the future consequences that this ability might bring. In sum, narrative counselling logogenesis is realized by a macro-genre that unfolds from problem construction to problem effacement. In addition, these genres are realized by specific combinations of the features of Mode, Field and Tenor, which, in turn, are realized in specific language patterns – Chapters 6 and 7 describe the language used to realize these genres.

. Marco-genre and counselling theory Besides gaining insight into the counselling process, a macro-genre analysis also tells us something about the counselling theory drawn upon to construct this process. From the perspective of instantiation (i.e., language as system vs. language as instance) counselling interactions form a sub-potential of meaning or register (see Halliday 2003[1973]: 298) from the overall meaning potential

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 Chapter 4

available to a culture; that is, the language resources used in counselling form a subset of the total set of possible ways that speakers can mean. Table 4.3 illustrates the linguistic resources (semantic and grammatical) that played a central role in narrative counselling. Seen from yet another perspective, that of stratification (i.e., context of situation and language), this linguistic sub-potential deployed in counselling corresponds to certain situation types. A theory, therefore, needs to be seen from the perspective of the situations that put the theory in (social) practice, and from the perspective of which linguistic sub-potentials or registers are activated by these situations (For a discussion of ‘theory’ as a semiotic construct see Halliday & Matthiessen 1999: 565ff.). One of the big advantages of doing a functional linguistic analysis of counselling activities – or the activities of all kinds of different fields such as pedagogy, medicine, law, science, etc. – is that we can identify the counsellor’s theory. By this I mean how counsellors attempt to construe experience (ideational), construct social relationships and attitudes (interpersonal) and create messages in terms of meanings or information (textual). Ideally, the identified ‘counselling theory’ that has been filtered out of the semiotic analysis should be compared to the counsellor’s professed theory. In other words, we should examine the language patterns realized in the counselling process and compare these to what counsellors say they do and aim to do. The counsellor in my data identified his approach as narrative. This approach to counselling has its roots in the work of White and Epston (1990), and is generally referred to as narrative therapy. White and Epston identify the central approach in narrative therapy as the “externalizing of the problem.” Through this approach clients take a first step in differentiating between a problem story and a potential, not-yet-expressed client story. In these counselling interactions, a focus on ‘the client as a problem’ gets transformed to ‘the problem as a problem.’ Externalizing is accomplished through an interviewing process called relative influencing questions. These are questions that invite clients to “map the influence of the problem in their lives and relationships” and then to “map their own influence in the life of the problem.” The former technique is used to list the effects that the problem has on clients’ lives and the latter is used to list the ways in which clients act against the problem’s effects. The aim, then, is to stop clients from living a life that is, to a large extent, authored by the problem, and to begin living a life that is authored by the client. Another technique to initiate re-authoring involves letter writing (Epston, White, & Murray 1992). Letters are written by the counsellor that summarize the events of a prior counselling session and provide questions that clients are meant to reflect on. These letters provide an additional means

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Logogenesis

Table 4.4 A comparison of metalanguages used to describe narrative counselling Narrative Counselling Theory as a Semiotic Construct

Narrative Therapy as Expressed in White and Epston (1990) and White (2000, 2001)

Problem Construction – problem identification (recount-reformulation) – problem agency Problem Effacement – identification of alternative events (narrative-reformulation) – alternative event and client agency

Externalizing – mapping the influence of the problem – unpacking negative identity conclusions Externalizing – mapping the influence of persons – re-authoring conversations

for clients to develop alternative stories for who they are and what they are able to do. In more recent accounts of narrative therapy White (2000, 2001) suggests that externalizing conversations aim to unpack clients’ negative identity conclusions about themselves and their relationships. Negative identity conclusions refer to formulations that provide a naturalistic account of clients’ behaviours (e.g., I am indecisive, and always have been). According to White, the danger of these formulations is that they lead clients into viewing problems as stable, inherent attributes of self. A major aim of the externalizing approach, therefore, is to get clients to construe problems as transient, external and socially constructed, so that they become able to construct their lives in different and additional ways. A comparison between my macro-genre interpretation of the narrative counselling interview and White and Epston’s (1990) account of narrative practice is shown in Table 4.4. The main difference between these two accounts of narrative practice lies in the metalanguage used. My description is based on the counselling interactions that I have analyzed using SFL theory. White and Epston’s (1990) description is, presumably, based on their therapeutic goals and observations of their own practices. Although I do not wish to turn this into a discussion of which metalangauge is better, I would argue that my semiotically informed description allows us to map out the different staged, goal-oriented activities of the counselling process and the language used to achieve these goals. This description also allows us to compare different therapy approaches, since the linguistic description used applies to any instance of language use, and not to counselling in particular. As a final note, it should be pointed out that a description of a counselling theory involves more than the generic stages illustrated in Table 4.4. What is



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 Chapter 4

also needed is a description of counselling as a pedagogic discourse (see Tables 4.1 and 4.2). More will be said about narrative counselling and the type of pedagogic practice it relates to in Chapter 9. In the subsequent chapters, however, I address the global generic development of the counselling process, beginning with a more local kind of transformative practice termed reformulation.

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Chapter 5

Reformulations as local transformations

. Overview In counselling sessions, counsellors are confronted with clients’ ‘reasons’ for coming and clients’ (often competing if couples are involved) formulations of their own and others’ past behaviours (Edwards 1995). Once reasons or problems have been formulated by the client, an expectation is set up that the counsellor, at some point, orients to the formulation. In this way, the counsellor is not merely a passive recipient of clients’ formulations, but instead plays an active role by suggesting alternative versions of these formulations. Active participation from the counsellor is encouraged by some counselling approaches. Process researchers, for instance, argue that client change is a central goal in counselling and that the counsellor should employ those kinds of practices that may best facilitate change (see Rice & Greenberg 1984). Social constructionist approaches also view change as a desirable outcome of therapy. But for social constructionists change is not (or should not be) primarily counsellor induced; instead, change is an interactive accomplishment between the counsellor and the client(s) (see McNamee & Gergen 1992). The extent to which counsellors should influence or alter clients’ constructions of events is a point of contention in social constructionism. Anderson and Goolishian (1992: 29) claim that counsellors should not attempt to produce change but should instead “open space for conversation.” Here, the counsellor’s change-inducing potential is de-emphasized and a more neutral view of counsellor as facilitator is encouraged. Efran and Clarfield (1992), on the other hand, view counsellor neutrality as a fiction. Counselling, they argue, is done in a counsellor’s office (i.e., on their turf), involves remuneration and is primarily organized around policies that are derived from a certain counselling approach. For these reasons, counsellor and client relationships are hierarchically organized. Counsellors and clients do not enter into each session as ‘equal’ partners with ‘equal’ voices. As Efran and Clarfield (1992: 207) aver, “therapists – constructionist or not – are selling a product and running a ‘shop.’ They get to set shop pol-

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 Chapter 5

icy. Clients vote on the arrangement by continuing to avail themselves of the services being offered or by deciding to shop elsewhere.” In explaining change, social constructionists often draw on Bateson’s (1972: 315) claim that information consists of “a difference which makes a difference.” Thus changes that have significance for the client will occur when alternative constructions of reality that make a difference are presented in counselling. What, however, will make a difference and how can change be identified? To begin, I view change semiotically and at this point it is instructive to re-introduce CA’s claim from Chapter 2 that social actions are contextshaping and context-renewing. Client and counsellor contributions are continually being shaped by preceding social actions and, in turn, are providing a unique sequential context for a subsequent social action. Change is, therefore, an ongoing interactive accomplishment between interactive participants. However, not all social actions in counselling are treated as equally significant. Some descriptions are oriented to, commented upon and continuously made the topic of discussion. One of the aims of this chapter is to examine what meanings are focused on in counselling. I suggest that one of the ways to do this is to examine clients’ and counsellor’s use of lexicogrammatical resources in constructing their turns. This allows an examination of what lexicogrammatical parts of prior speakers’ turn get reformulated and hence transformed and resemanticized in the subsequent turn. I say resemanticized because by reformulating prior talk, it is placed within a new interactive context and so always acquires new meanings. Reformulation has a lexical correlate in counselling theory, where it is called a reframe. According to Watzlawick et al. (1974: 95), reframing refers to creating new meanings by changing the conceptual or emotional setting and by altering perceptions in relation to experienced situations. Change is foremost related to perceptions and emotions; that is, to mental states and processes. If one sets up a new frame for conceptualizing or reacting to (via emotions) a situation, then one’s perceptions or mental state can become altered in the process. The approach taken here differs from those associated with reframing in that no claims are made regarding speakers’ mental states. Instead, change is examined in terms of interactants’ social actions; in particular, in terms of their formulations or descriptions of events and how these formulations become discursively altered, oriented to, and how they acquire a kind of salience for the interactants over time. Research on reformulations has, for the most part, focused on their sequential organization (Buttny 1996; Davis 1986). Davis (1986: 54), for example, argues that reformulations are the main discursive practices of a specific ther-

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apeutic process by which a problem is constructed and documented and, as a final step, by which the client’s consent is organized. In a similar vein, Buttny (1996) demonstrates how reformulations are embedded within a three-part sequence that includes the client’s response/evaluation to the reformulation and the therapist’s response to the client’s response. Both Davis and Buttny align their focus on reformulations with the subsequent responses of the client or therapist. Thus, what is being highlighted is the way in which acceptance/rejection or confirmation/disconfirmation of a therapist’s reformulation is interactionally organized. Somewhat surprisingly, scant attention is given to the grammatical organization of client’s formulation and counsellor’s reformulation. What makes this surprising is that formulations and reformulations centrally involve a negotiation of how the client’s experiential world is to be construed. One of my aims, therefore, is to show the various ways in which client formulation-counsellor reformulation sequences are interactionally organized and the kinds of grammatical transformations that clients’ formulations have undergone. An important finding for my analysis is that reformulating is primarily a counsellor’s discursive practice. This is not altogether surprising since it is couples not therapists who talk about past events and experiences. Sacks (1992[1968]: 768) argued that unlike everyday situations of problems-telling, counsellors rarely respond to a client’s talk about problems with a second story – a personal recount of their own problems. In everyday problems talk, others may be ‘reminded’ of their own similar problems and experiences and may then proceed to talk about them. Counsellors, however, do not orient to clients’ talk in terms of being reminded of their own experiences. Instead, counsellors orient to client formulations by placing what the client said under examination. Clients’ formulations are thus commented on, restated and elaborated; in other words, they are reformulated. The remainder of this chapter focuses on the form and function of reformulations by examining the lexicogrammatical shape of reformulations. Various ideational realizations of reformulations are identified and reformulations are shown to be realized by all six process types. In addition, comparisons are made between what the clients have uttered and counsellor’s subsequent utterance; that is, consideration is given to what has been selected by the counsellor to be reformulated and how counsellor’s reformulation grammatically modifies and tranforms clients’ prior formulation. A central transformative resource used by the counsellor is grammatical metaphor.



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 Chapter 5

. Lexicogrammatical shape Examination of all six therapy sessions showed that reformulations tend to appear in the following lexicogrammatical shape (plain brackets ‘( )’ indicate optionality and curly brackets ‘{}’ contain examples): Relator + Participant + Process ({so}) {you, your role, the problem} {say, think, recognize, feel, talk, have, be}

Seen experientially, reformulations tend to begin with the conjunction so, which is then followed by a Participant and a Process. Participants are generally realized by the pronoun you, but when the clause is relational, Participants are realized by a variety of nominal groups. Reformulations may also be viewed logico-semantically in terms of elaboration. More specifically, reformulations can be regarded as a restatement of client’s talk by expressing it ‘in other words’ (Halliday 1994: 226). The counsellor in this data made use of all experiential clause types when reformulating clients’ formulations. Recall from Chapter 3 that this includes 6 types: Verbal, Mental, Behavioural, Material, Relational and Existential. Furthermore, these clause types fall under the more general category labels of sensing (mental, verbal), doing (behavioural, material) and being (relational, existential). Clients’ formulations have the potential to be recast in terms of these 3 general, or 6 specific, ways of construing experience. Reformulations can therefore be grouped in terms of their ability to project clauses (mental and verbal), to construe a Participant as a doer or actor (behavioural and material) or to relate or posit the existence of things (relational and existential). In addition to selecting for Process type, reformulations may also select for agency. The most common type of reformulation that involves agency is the analytic causative (e.g., make. . . do, force. . . to do). The experiential selections that are taken up in reformulations are depicted in Figure 5.1. In the following sub-sections, I provide examples of reformulations from each of the 3 clause types and sub-types. Here, the analysis focuses mainly on the lexicogrammatical shape of counsellor’s reformulation and not on what part of the client’s talk has been reformulated. The sequential organization of a formulation-reformulation and kinds of lexicogrammatical transformations are addressed in Section 5.3.

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Reformulations as local transformations  middle AGENCY effective +Agent material doing behavioural

verbal CLAUSE TYPE

projecting mental intensive relational being existential

possesive circumstantial

Figure 5.1 System network for experiential options used in reformulating organized along Agency and Clause Types

.. Reformulations of projecting Reformulations of projecting always involve at least two clauses: a projecting clause and a projected clause. The former contains either a verbal or mental clause. This clause contains a counsellor reformulation of client’s talk in terms of what the client said, perceived, or thought. The latter, the projected clause, may involve any clause type. The relationship between these two clauses is logico-semantic, whereby the projected clause “comes to function not as a direct representation of (non-linguistic) experience but as a representation of a (linguistic) representation” (Halliday 1994: 250). Put differently, projected clauses represent the locutions/ideas of the sayer/senser represented in the projecting clause. They are, therefore, meta-representations (or metaphenomena using Halliday’s terminology) since they indirectly construe experience through a projecting clause. Because reformulations of projecting construe what the client verbalizes or thinks, they play a significant role in constructing the conversation as a dialogic interaction involving different positions and ‘voices’.

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 Chapter 5

Bakhtin (1981, 1986) has pointed out that all texts are dialogic in the sense that they take other persons and texts into account. Nonetheless, it is notable that there are certain texts that tend to explicitly incorporate other speakers’ voices or meanings, and others that tend to shut them out. Bakhtin (1981) referred to the former tendency as heteroglossic, and the latter as monoglossic. In other words, heteroglossic texts tend to emphasize, whereas monoglossic texts tend to efface alternative and competing speaker voices and meanings. Drawing on Bakhtin’s work, P. White (2003) has developed a systemic model that distinguishes between monoglossic and heteroglossic meanings at the level of the discourse semantics (see also Martin 1997, 2000 on engagement). P. White (2003: 265) refers to the emphasizing and effacing of differences as dialogic expansion and dialogic contraction. With reference to P. White’s framework, reformulations of projecting are dialogically expanding, because they tend to acknowledge the client’s point of view. By reformulating in this manner, counsellors do not shut out the client’s voice by disagreeing with it. Rather, they give credence to client’s voice by attempting to clarify what clients have meant or said. According to P. White (2003: 260), “by the use of wordings such as perhaps, It has been argued that . . . , naturally . . . , admittedly, I think . . . , the textual voice acts first-and-foremost to acknowledge, to engage with or to align itself with respect to positions which are in some way alternatives to that being advanced by the text.” The observation that certain linguistic expressions work to dialogically contract, while others work to expand alternatives is of central importance to counselling approaches; especially in narrative therapy, where a central aim is to facilitate new understandings and alternative ways for constructing social roles and relationships. In the next two subsections I examine the various ways in which verbal and mental processes of reformulation are realized. ... Verbal clauses Halliday (1994) refers to verbal Processes as Processes of saying. Projecting verbal Processes imply the Participant role Sayer and a projected locution. The projections are separate clauses that are realized by either quoted speech (paratactic) or reported speech (hypotactic). In problem construction, reformulating verbal clauses are most frequently realized by reported clauses; that is, counsellors do not quote clients but rather report what it is that they have said. The emphasis in this genre, therefore, is on client meanings. In problem effacement, however, counsellors quote clients’ prior formulations of alternative events. In this genre, by contrast, the emphasis is on client wordings. Verbal Processes found in the data set include say, tell, and mention.

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Reformulations as local transformations 

A reformulation involving a verbal Process is shown in Ex. (5:1). In lines 01–16 F explains how he has begun to alter his decision making practices, by first deciding what he wants to do, before asking W what she wants to do (i.e., why don’t I figure out what I really wanna (1.0) what do I wanna do): (5:1) (A08P4)

→ → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

F: well an an see I think all I’ve done recently is sorta say well there you h’d said before I start casting about for (.) information that I may reject (.) why don’t I figure out what I really wanna (1.0) what do I wanna do (.) C: what wuz that F: y’know what do (1.0) [( ) if I act] if I actually:: uh (1.5) C: [you were thinking that by ] F: if I c’n acutally decide th(hh)at I(hh) w(hh)an(hh)t tuh do it then I c’n say that. (.) rather than saying how do you feel about so n so C: okay so lemme just write this down becuz then it is I think this is important (1.0) u::h so:: we haven’t met for a few weeks so definitely you’re saying that over the last few weeks (.) you’ve taken a step back a bits an you’ve looked at whether or not first of all you:: want to be making a decison about this? (.) is that what is that what you’re saying (1.0) can you repeat [what] you’ve said

C’s reformulation begins in line 21 and follows the canonical turn shape of so + Participant + Process (so definitely you’re saying). Lines 22–26 contain the reported projection of F’s formulation (i.e., you’ve taken a step back a bits and you’ve looked at. . . ). Because the reformulation is cast in terms of what F has previously verbalized, C is able to maintain a slightly reworked version of

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F’s original meanings, or voice. F’s meanings have not been backgrounded or appropriated by C. Instead, C’s reformulation invites a heteroglossic interpretation, in that it makes space for F’s voice, by incorporating F’s meaning within a projected clause. Reformulating verbal processes are most commonly realized in present in present tense (present in present tense means that both components of the verbal group, are and saying/telling, realize present tense). These present in present constructions such as are saying orient to the present act of saying. Halliday (1994: 173), however, claims that the unmarked present tense for verbal Processes is the simple present. In the data, one would therefore expect to find cases of you say that. . . . This construction, however, was not found in this data set. What function, then, might C’s use of the present in present serve in these instances? Present in present constructions are used with processes that have definable beginnings and endings (Halliday 1994: 116). Verbal Processes – unlike material Processes such as build, make, go – are not bounded in time. Although questions such as “when did you say that?” are common, questions such as “when did you start or stop saying that?” are less so. But the latter seems to be happening in counselling. Through its association with present in present tense, saying takes on features of doing and becomes a more material kind of Process. So, at one level, what is emphasized in counselling is the behavioural aspect of verbalizing. Counsellors may also reformulate using first-person plural we. In doing so, counsellors shift the Sayer role from the client to the counsellor-client dyad or triad; or a shift may occur from what the client has verbalized to an implication arising from the client’s formulation. An example in which a counsellor orients to an implication from the client’s prior formulation is shown in Ex. (5:2). Here, W recounts an incident in which W and F’s son has wanted to borrow the family car. W claims that although F has agreed that he will decide whether or not the son can borrow the car, F still waits for W to make the final decision. (5:2) (AO8P2) 01 W: [well what I have done] you see 02 becuz Fred has said 03 okay I will do that (0.8) 04 I will be the one who lets him have t05 Fred says yes or no to the car .hh 06 I say 07 I look at Fred 08 i anticipating

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Reformulations as local transformations 

09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 → 20 C: → 21 → 22 23 24 W:

that he will immediately say uh yeah okay or no ((sound of paper rattling)) but Fred keeps making eye contact with me as though .hh is there a change of mind here but (.) Fred said that he would make the decision .hh I’m waiting fer him tuh make the decision .hh so then when Fred doesn’t or does make the decision after that’s done we have a discussion so could we say that one of the things that supports indecisiveness is a habit that .hh Fred has of looking to you to make decisions for him I think so=

C’s reformulating verbal Process begins in line 20 (i.e., so could we say). As already mentioned, C makes use of a different pronoun; C does not utter you say, but we say. Therefore, the saying is not being attributed solely to W but to, at minimum, both W and C. At first glance, C’s use of we might appear unusual because up to this point, W has been doing the saying and not C. I would suggest that C’s we is serving a dual purpose here; namely, we orients both to W’s prior formulation and to what C is about to formulate, which is an interpretation of what W has said. In other words, we say could be paraphrased as “from what you (W) say, I or we could make the interpretation that. . . .” What kinds of linguistic evidence could support this claim? C’s use of modality constructs probability. By uttering could, C positions what is about to be said as a possible interpretation of W’s formulation. In fact, the utterance as a whole (i.e., could we say) seems to be a way of making a suggestion that is based on prior talk. C’s reformulation also plays an important role in influencing the dialogic quality of the exchange. Although the pronoun we does retain W’s voice to an extent, the degree to which C’s reformulation may be considered dialogically expanding is much less than in the previous example. First, we fuses W and C into a common perspective. In this way, W’s meanings are no longer independent of and alternative to C’s meanings. Secondly, the interpretation – that is, what “we say” – seems to be more C’s than W’s. Therefore, by reformulating in this fashion, C tends to efface alternatives by contracting the amount of dialogic space realized within his text. I should like to mention that what C is

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doing is not necessarily a ‘bad’ practice. I want to avoid the association of expansion with ‘good’ and contraction with ‘bad’. Such judgements depend on the speaker’s goals. Since the import of C’s social action in lines 20–23 is that of interpreting, this interpretation will be his alone, and not W’s. Therefore, in order to make an interpretation, C needs to give space to his own voice, which may mean moving W’s voice to one side for the moment. In a spirit of more expanding dialogism, however, C could have first attempted to clarify W’s prior meaning as he did in Ex. (5:1). Following that, he could have proceeded to negotiate the possible implications of W’s meanings. In some respects, however, C opted for a strategy that lay between dialogic expansion and contraction. He did not say, for example, “One of the things that supports indecisiveness is . . . ”, which would have explicitly severed any link to W’s previous utterance. C’s reformulation also appeared in interrogative mood, rather than declarative. In this way, he kept the negotiation of his interpretation open to possible refutation by W. Verbal clauses are used differently in problem effacement. In this genre, the counsellor does not report client’s prior formulation but quotes it. What the counsellor foregrounds in this genre is clients’ wordings. An example of a quoting verbal clause is shown in (5:3) line 20. In this example, taken from the last counselling session, session number six, W provides an instance in which she was able to take control of a situation and was able to prevent herself from becoming depressed. (5:3) (AO8P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15

W: I I vuh verbally (1.0) d uh u::m:: god (1.0) I spoke it. [out ward. stop it. ] C: [uh huh. uh huh. ] W: [jus ] sto::p it. C: [uh huh ] C: mhm. W: a::n I sto::pped (.) feeling (.) depressed. (.) an I stopped feeling (1.0) uh confused. (0.8) an I got I ma- did something work in the kitchen or I:: did something went outside for a little while an .hh and uh felt good about that. I felt good enough about it .hh tuh tell Fred about it a couple’ve times.

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→ → → → →

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

thet thet I had done that. okay uh I like tuh stop people when they say things that are stand out as signify [cant ]. W: [y(h)eah ] C: so you said I:: stopped (.) feeling (.) C: d’you hear what you’re saying. I stopped feeling depressed.= W: =yeah. C: I simply said STOP IT. C:

In describing this incident, W uses behavioural (I spoke it.) and relational processes of affection (I sto::pped (.) feeling (.) depressed.) to describe how she overcame the problem. In the beginning, what she said is described in terms of the behavioural aspect of saying. She does not say “I said stop it” but “I spoke it. out ward. stop it.” Her locution is not, therefore, constructed in terms of a verbal projection but as an elaboration of the behavioural Process of speaking. In 07, W adds, through extension, how she felt when she spoke those words. C’s reformulation, which begins in line 20 and extends through to line 25, ties back to W’s formulations of speaking and feeling. In line 20, C uses say in the past tense (i.e., so you said) and not present in present as in example (5:1). Note that the projected locution in line 21 also differs from previous examples; the locutions are quoted and not reported. It would seem then that C does not use verbal Processes in present in present tense to quote clients’ formulations. Past tense is used for this. But what is the difference between quoting and reporting? Quoted speech tends to be more ideationally similar to client’s reformulation. Compare W’s formulation I sto::pped (.) feeling (.) depressed. to C’s reformulation I stopped feeling depressed. Quoted speech also retains the same referents: C reformulates with I stopped not you stopped. So, in quoting, C seems not so much to be elaborating, clarifying or restating W’s formulation; rather, C seems to be repeating and emphasizing it. By quoting W, C treats W’s formulation as significant in and of itself. The formulation, therefore, does not need elaboration; it needs repeating. A somewhat unusual and interesting transformation occurs in line 25, when C uses a 1st person pronoun for the projecting clause: I simply said STOP IT. If we go back to W’s formulation in line 02, we see that only the projected part is, in actual fact, quoted; that is, W did say stop it, but she did not say I simply said. In addition, she used a behavioural (I spoke it) rather than a verbal process to introduce her locution: She didn’t say it; she spoke it. So what has

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happened here? It appears that, following the quote in line 23, C has continued to speak with W’s voice. This would explain why C continues with I and not you. In one sense, then, C’s quote fully incorporates W’s voice, thereby fully expanding the dialogic quality of his utterance. Somewhat paradoxically, however, since C’s voice essentially recedes into the background, the end result is that the speakers are left primarily with W’s meanings; that is, there are no alternative or competing voices. Quotes, therefore, are a subtle means with which the counsellor may resist dialogic expansion. This may be very necessary for the client at exactly that instance in which the client has found the right words, or the right story. It is precisely at this point in counselling that counsellors do not need to (and perhaps should not) supply alternative perspectives by reworking client meanings. ... Mental clauses Reformulating mental clauses presuppose a Senser and a projected clause. However, rather than reporting or quoting locutions, mental Processes report or quote ideas (Halliday 1994: 256). Halliday (1994: 118) divides mental Processes into 3 sub-types: Perception, Affection and Cognition.1 Included under Processes of perception are seeing and hearing, under affection are liking and fearing and under cognition are thinking and knowing. Reformulating mental Processes are often realized by perception verbs such as seeing, hearing, experiencing, recognizing and feeling and cognition verbs such as thinking and knowing. An example of a reformulating mental Process of cognition is shown in (5:4). The discussion in this excerpt centres around how understanding F is of W. In lines 05–06, W positively appraises F, by claiming that he has become fifty percent more understanding. (5:4) (A08P1) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

C:

well would you sahow much more would you say he is understanding like ten percent mo::re [twenty percent fifty percent ] W: [oh I would no I’d say:: ] uh probably (.) fifty percent [more ] C: [fifty ] percent more W: in my opinion F: well that’s probably right because .hh before when we were both working (0.7)

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Reformulations as local transformations 

→ → → →

11 12 13 14 15 C: 16 17 18

we only spent about half our time with each other (1.0) so we didn’t hhh heh we we could could operate (.) in a different manner than when we spend so much time with each other. did you know tha tuh did you know tha tum (0.8) that Wendy Sue thought of you of being fifty percent more understanding than you used to be

The reformulation appears in lines 15–18. The projected clause begins in line 16 and stems from the projecting clause of the cognitive process know. Note that in line 15 C is not reformulating what F knows (did you know tha tuh did you know). In this case, the interrogative mood of the projecting clause is functioning as a question and not a statement about F’s knowledge. Furthermore, it is not so much knowledge that is highlighted in this exchange, but W’s positive appraisal of F. In this way, C’s reformulation is used to elicit a response from F that aims to get him to realize how propitious his social actions are: ‘does he know how positively W thinks of him?’ Projection is an important grammatical resource in reformulating for a variety of reasons. First of all, using projecting processes (i.e., verbal or mental processes) allows the counsellor to associate the client’s reformulated talk to clients’ sayings or perceptions/cognitions. In this way, client ownership of his or her verbalizations and meanings are maintained to a degree; that is, these reformulations maintain or expand the dialogic quality of the interaction. To illustrate this tendency, consider Ex. (5:5), in which F claims that W avoids fuss or argument, that she doesn’t like confrontation and that she gives in to what people want. Using a mental Process of perception in line 14, C reformulates F’s talk in terms of what F sees (kay so you see). The reformulated elements are placed within projected clauses that make up lines 15–20. Now consider a modified, invented variation of Ex. (5:5): if C had not reformulated in terms of what F sees, the reformulation might then have appeared as “Wendy Sue wants to avoid confrontation and to please you.” In this invented example, the association between F and his prior formulations of W’s behaviour are lost. The reformulation then becomes more C’s meaning than F’s, thereby resulting in the effacement of F’s voice (dialogic contraction). Thus, reformulating through constructions such as you say/think/see maintains the link between W/F and their formulations and, as a consequence, allows C to distance himself from the accountability of his reformulating practices. It is C who reworks and hence

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resemanticizes W and F’s formulations, by framing them in terms of sayings or sensings, but C does so as if it were W & F’s locutions or ideas. (5:5) (A08P1)

→ → → → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

F: I think (3.0) that she r- she doesn’t like (1.5) anything uh (0.8) confrontational. she doesn’t like any fuss or argument if she can avoid it so she tends tuh want tuh give in to what other people want. or or even beat them to the punch by doing what she thinks they want (2.0) placing them in adva::nce so there’s no fuss n- no fuss no argument (1.0) um (1.0) [so what I ] consider discussion C: [so you see ] F: she considers arguing and fighting C: kay so you see Wendy Sue as wanting to avoid confrontation and to to pleasing you and you don’t want her to do that (0.7) you want her tuh::: speak her own mind and say what she wants tuh do

Projecting processes also allow C to add on a specific quality of saying or sensing to W & F’s formulations. Considering Ex. (5:5) once again, note that F, when making claims about W’s behaviour, does not project his claims in terms of what he sees. F does not say, for instance, that he feels, experiences, knows, sees, recognizes, believes, etc. W to be a certain way. Instead, he either projects W’s behaviour through a cognitive Process, or he simply states it without a projecting clause: I think that she doesn’t like. . . , she tends tuh want tuh give in. . . , she considers. . . . So, irrespective of what clients utter, C is able to associate clients’ formulations with locutions (i.e., you said), perceptions (i.e., you see), affections (i.e., you want) or cognitions (i.e., you think). A third feature of projecting clauses is that they are univariate structures (Martin 1992: 21). This means that, by recycling verbal or mental clauses, projection can recur indefinitely, (e.g., you’re saying that W thinks that you feel that W wants. . . ). Although all combinations of verbal and mental Processes types are possible, and in some context some combination would be appropri-

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Reformulations as local transformations 

ate, not all combinations occur in counselling. What most frequently occurs is verbal clauses projecting mental clauses of all types (e.g., saying → feeling) or mental clauses of perception projecting verbal clauses (e.g., hearing → saying). An example in which C projects W’s saying in terms of a perception was shown in (5:3) line 22 (d’you hear what you’re saying). Hear, in this context, seems to be closely aligned in meaning to see or recognize; that is, W is being asked if she recognizes the import of what she said. Note however that the projection (i.e., saying) is not contained in a separate ranking clause, but has been downranked, or embedded, within a nominal group. Rankshifting and grammatical metaphor will be discussed in more detail in the section on identifying clauses and in Section 5.3. It should also be mentioned that C does not reformulate using Processes of affection such as like, hate, fear, or enjoy. One reason for this might be that Processes of affection associate clients with potentially face threatening emotions (Goffman 1967); that is, the face threatening implications of thinking or perceiving something lie mainly with what is perceived or thought, whereas hating or fearing something already implies something about the one who hates or fears. As a last point, projected clauses may contain any Process type. For instance, projected clauses in Ex. (5:1) are realized by behavioural Processes, (5:2) and (5:3) are realized by relational Processes, Ex. (5:4) by a mental Process and Ex. (5:5) by a material Process. It is in the projected clause that clients’ prior talk is reformulated, and this issue is taken up in Section 5.3. .. Reformulations of doing It was noted in the prior section on reformulations of projecting that verbal clauses can have a behavioural quality to them. The reason for this was due to present in present realizations that construed Processes such as saying as ‘doings’. From a topological perspective, we could claim that the core verbal category has taken on behavioural features. The core clause category in this section, however, is not its ability to project (i.e., verbalizing or sensing), but its ability to construe experience as doing. These include behavioural and material clauses. As was found for projecting clauses, it will be shown that features from other clause types can also be associated with this core category. ... Behavioural clauses Halliday (1994: 139) argues that behavioural clauses do not have any clearly defined grammatical characteristics. Some behavioural Processes, for instance,

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are similar to mental Processes (e.g., look, watch, think about), others are similar to verbal Processes (e.g., chatter, speak, talk), while others construe physiological Processes (e.g., cry, laugh, smile, breathe, yawn, sleep). Behavioural Processes also share features with material Processes. In particular, their unmarked present tense is present in present. Behavioural clauses generally have only one Participant, labelled Behaver, and they tend to be associated with matter Circumstances (e.g., think about, talk about, laugh about). An example of a behavioural clause was shown in Ex. (5:3) line 02: I spoke it. out ward. Why is spoke not a verbal Process? Verbal Processes can project locutions, whereas behavioural Processes do not. We cannot, for instance, say I spoke that I should stop it! Also, since the unmarked present tense for speak is present in present, it would be more likely to find instances of I am speaking about my problem than I speak about my problem. Finally, speak often appears with the matter Circumstance about, a characteristic typical of behavioural processes. The most commonly used reformulating behavioural Process is talk. C reformulates using this Process in Ex. (5:6). Prior to the reformulation, F discusses how he goes about making a decision. Before undertaking something, F argues that it is better to research the topic and to examine alternatives rather than merely doing it out of impulse. (5:6) (A08P2) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 → 17 → 18

F: well everything I rea::d everything I hear or say .hh says that there are right- there are better ways to do everything= C: =uh huh= F: =than just doing it. doing it out of impulse .hh o::r just doing it the first way C: [uh huh ] F: [y’know ] you should resea::rch it .hh should (1.0) what’s it gonna cost how much time is it gotta be alternatives .hh uhm so I guess that’s my: reaction to everything it t- try an gather all this information C: .hh but could could could you talked doing things out of impulse could um .hh doing it right be a knee jerk reaction as well

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Reformulations as local transformations 

In line 17 C reformulates F’s formulation of line 05 by way of the behavioural Process talk. F’s formulation is placed within a matter Circumstance and thus becomes reformulated as what F’s talk was about – note that the preposition about has not been uttered but nonetheless can still be inferred. This construction differs from those associated with verbal Processes in that F’s formulations are not being reported nor quoted. However, since C repeats some part of F’s talk through a matter Circumstance, there is some aspect of reporting happening here (see also Halliday & Matthiessen 1999: 174, who align the semantics of Matter with Projection). C also uses near-mental behavioural processes to reformulate. In Ex. (5:7) F is explaining to C that he tries to make a decision before asking W for her opinion (lines 01–03). F also emphasizes that W should decide herself whether she wishes to accompany W (06–11) and, finally, that F should take into consideration what he is willing to undertake alone without W (12–21). (5:7) (A08P3) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 → 22 23

F: u::m (.) I think I’ve ( ) probably (.) trying (.) trying to (.) decide before I: throw things at Wendy Sue (0.8) C: uh huh F: or just say wait what do you wanna do here (.) I think you better decide yourself what chew wanna do (.) then you’ll at least know that and you’re willing tuh do that y’know sort’ve a to at least narrow things down to (.) what am I willing tuh do on my own y’know if I:: if I hafta go out an do it I’ll do this this an this I don’t hafta drag Wendy Sue alo::ng (.) if she wants tuh come out as an outing or if there’s some place she wants tuh go fine. .hh otherwise I c’n do these things (0.8) an I’ll feel like (.) I (.) accomplished that much y’know C: .hh [so you think ] about doing things more on your own (.) F: [( ) ]

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C’s reformulation in line 22 casts F’s formulation in terms of what F thinks about (i.e., so you think about. . . ) – here also there is a semantic relationship between the Matter Circumstance and projection. By construing the clients as behavourial sayers and sensers in Ex. (5:6) and (5:7), C has managed to retain a cohesive link to clients’ prior locutions and ideas. In this way, C’s reformulations prevent his meanings from gaining too much prominence. As a result, C has been able to expand the dialogic quality of the interaction. Because behavioural clauses do not project nor report, it could be argued that they function more as ‘global’ and not ‘local’ reformulating clauses. When verbal or mental clauses are used to reformulate, the therapist takes an aspect of client’s talk and reports or quotes it. Doing so maintains a tight cohesive or local link to clients’ talk, because C refers to clients’ verbalizations or sensings through referents (i.e., you) and works with much of the grammatical structure of clients’ formulations. With behavioural clauses part of client’s formulation is placed within a matter Circumstance and is therefore often abstracted; the formulation loses its status as a clause and becomes nominalized. In other words, non-finite constructions such as doing things out of impulse in (5:6) and doing things more on your own in (5:7) get taken out of clients’ clause complex constructions and placed within the matter Circumstances of C’s reformulation. Compare the above with F’s prior formulations: there are better ways to do everything than just doing it. doing it out of impulse and what am I willing tuh do on my own y’know if I:: if I hafta go out an do it. Although abstraction and nominalization tend to occur with all clause types, behavioural clauses do abstraction somewhat differently. They select a component of client’s formulation, making that the aboutness of client’s talking or thinking. In sum, whereas projecting clauses, through reporting and quoting, relate to specific and local locutions or ideas, matter circumstances of behavioural clauses topicalize prior talk by making that talk part of the global aboutness of the behavioural clause. Another way in which behavioural clauses may act globally is by redirecting talk in counselling back to a previous topic. For example, in line 15 of Ex. (5:8), C downplays F’s reasons for why he has difficulty doing things (i.e.,. cuz I might do it wrong or I [might not] do it the right [way] first time) by reformulating what they are talking about. (5:8) (A08P3) 01 C: well what’s so terrible about doing things 02 (1.5) 03 F: well I guess 04 when you get

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Reformulations as local transformations

05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 → 15 16 → 17

C: F:

C: F: C: F: C:

that’s when I get into that. cuz I might do it wrong or I [might not ] do it the right [way ] first time [so ] [uh huh ] [uh huh ] [right ] or i be in some cases if its a real big physical effort y’know if its a chore an unpleasant chore .hh well you c’n spend alotta time planning it= =yeah well nobody’s asking you tuh take [on ] that at the moment [no ] an we’re just [talking ] about uh decisions you might wanna [m ] make that uh .hh that you would start to work on.

In order to redirect the talk, C begins by questioning the relevance of what F has said (i.e., yeah well nobody’s asking you tuh take [on] that at the moment). Pointing out that nobody is requesting F to ‘take on’ a problem reduces the relevance of pursuing that line of talk. Subsequent to this, C provides the ‘relevant’ topic by reformulating what they are – and implicitly should be – talking about (i.e., an we’re just [talking] about uh decisions you might wanna make that uh .hh that you would start to work on.). Selecting first person plural shifts the focus from local to global. C is not referring to any specific aspect of F’s talking; instead, C refers to their topic of talk. In addition, C does not place any ideational components of F’s talk into the matter Circumstance. C reaches further back in the conservation to re-introduce a certain line of talk that they were having earlier on. ... Material clauses Material clauses construe doings (Halliday 1994: 109). It is for this reason that the probe what did he/she do? is often used to identify these clauses. If one can provide a response to that question (e.g., she solved/undermined/imposed a tactic upon the problem), then there is a good chance that the clause is material. Other probes such as unmarked present tense (i.e., present in present) and directionality of the material Process may also be used (see Halliday 1994: 114– 117 for a complete list of these probes). Material clauses generally contain two Participants, an Actor and a Goal. The Actor is the doer of the Process, whereas the goal is that to which / to whom something is done. In the invented example I solved the problem, I is the Actor and the problem is the Goal of the Process solved.



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F: DAP1105.tex / p.20 (990-1052)

Chapter 5

Of all the clause types, material clauses (excluding causative constructions – see below) were the least frequently used in reformulating. As mentioned above, material clauses construe doings. Reformulations realized by material clauses construct clients’ formulations in terms of a doing rather than something the client said, perceived or thought. Ex. (5:9) illustrates C’s use of a material clause to reformulate W’s talk. C and W are discussing instances in which W would refuse to do something. In this particular example, W had just told C that she had recently refused to organize the upcoming Christmas festivities. Instead, she had told her sister to take responsibility for it. (5:9) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 → 13 14

C:

i so lemme get this right. you said tuh her what are y::ou didjew [( ) says what are y::ou goin ] W: [y’know what iyou what iyou planning ] tuh do for them (1.0) C: wha what would you’ve tended tuh do in the past. (.) W: I would’ve tended tuh say well I think that this is what we should do. (.) C: so you would’ve taken the lead. W: yeah.

The discussion is about what W generally says; that is, when someone asks W to do something does she say I’ll do it or does she say no. In 07, C asks W what she would have tended to do. Now, notice that although C uses the verb do, C and W are actually referring to what W tends to say. So, the doing is related to typical verbal behaviour (behavioural clauses can also be probed with do: what did you do? I talked about my problem). As might be predicted, W in the following turn responds with a verbal clause (i.e., I would’ve tended tuh say) followed by a projected quote. In line 13, C reformulates with a material clause (i.e., so you would’ve taken the lead.). Here, taking the lead refers to W as being the one who organizes. In other words, W’s verbalization is reformulated as a metaphorical doing, which, in turn, refers back to W’s inability to say no. Material clauses are more frequently used to reformulate a problem as the Actor or Agent of some doing that affects the client. In Ex. (5:10), C and W are discussing the positive effects of session four – Ex. (5:10) is taken from

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session six. W claims that although she considered the effects of that session to be positive and real, she doubted these effects after the session. (5:10) (AO8P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 → 10 → 11 12

C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W:

=so it wasn’t a bullshit day [that wuz it wuz ] positive [I didn’t think so ] an it wuz real. i cou- uh uh it wuz tuh me?= =mhm (1.0) an then I doubted it later. (.) t(.hh) o::h. so does self doubt tend tuh undermine the positive (.) the positive [aspects of ] you. [oh sure. ]

C’s reformulation converts W’s formulation of doubt in line 08 into an Actor of a material clause (i.e., so does self doubt tend tuh undermine the positive. . . ). This reformulation transforms W’s temporal clause complex construction (i.e., it wuz tuh me?. . . an then. . . ) into a doing in which the process doubted from the subsequent temporal clause becomes the Agent of the preceding clause; that is, self-doubt prevents W from feeling positive. Agency is discussed in more detail in 5.2.4 and Chapter 6. .. Reformulations of being The third general category contains reformulations of being. These include both relational and existential clauses. In the former, one entity is related to another through attribution or identification; and in the latter, an entity’s existence is claimed. As will be shown in the subsequent chapter, these reformulations play an integral role in identifying clients’ formulations as problems and in positing implicational relationships between problems and clients’ behaviour. The following subsections describe the various grammatical shapes of reformulations of being. ... Relational clauses Put simply, relational Processes relate something to something else. Common linguistic realizations of relational Processes are be, have, mean, seem, express and signify (see Halliday 1994: 120–123 for an extensive list of relational Pro-

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cesses). In addition, there are three main types of relational clauses: intensive, possessive, and circumstantial. Intensive relational clauses have the general form ‘x is y.’ Possessives construe part-whole relations and have the general form ‘x has y.’ Finally, circumstantial clauses construe relations circumstantially (e.g., time, place, manner, cause, etc.) and contain a preposition: ‘x is (+ preposition) y.’ A finer distinction also exists for these process types; that is, all three types may be further divided into attributive or identifying. Attributive processes are those in which y is an attribute of x as in “you were um a teacher”. In this example, teacher is an attribute of you; that is, you is a member of the class of teachers. In identifying processes, y is the identity of x. In the example you you’re the mentor, the mentor serves to identify you; it singles out you by aligning you with a unique feature. Assigning class membership does not identify, since an entity is related to a general, not a unique category. Since a central aim in narrative counselling is to unpack negative identity conclusions, particular attention should be paid to the kinds of attributive and identifying relational Processes used by clients and counsellors. For, the counsellor must first be able to discern how clients are constructing their identities, before she or he proceeds to unpack them. It is important to note that ‘identity’ is used by Halliday as a lexicogrammatical function and not as a social category. For instance, the two examples above . . . you were um a teacher. . . and you you’re the mentor may both have to do with identities in terms of social categories or roles. In the former, someone is ascribed the feature teacher and in the latter, it is mentor. Halliday’s analysis would not rule out this interpretation; that is, issues of class membership or uniqueness would not preclude the claim that in both cases, someone is being ascribed with a certain general or unique feature. It should also be pointed out that no claim is being made here to interactants’ real identities. I take Antaki and Widdicombe’s (1998: 1) position that identities are discursive resources that are used in talk. Identifying (and attributive) processes operate exactly in this sense. They are grammatical resources used to align someone or some thing with a certain kind of identity. The remainder of this section on relational clauses focuses on intensive and possessive clauses. Circumstantial clauses are not examined because none were found that were used to reformulate.

Intensive attributive: Attributive clauses have two participant roles: Carrier and Attribute. Carrier is the entity being assigned an Attribute, and Attribute is that which is being assigned to the Carrier. The Attribute is typically an adjective or an indefinite nominal group (e.g., a teacher), and there is no passive form of the clause, which makes it difficult to reverse the order of the Partic-

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ipants. So, in the above example “you were um a teacher”, reversing the order would result in a highly marked or literary form: *“a teacher were you”. Ex. (5:11) is an example in which C reformulates using intensive attributive clauses. Here in session six, C and W are discussing the kind of day that W had in session four. (5:11) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 → 20 → 21 22 → 23 24

W: [yea::h] cuz Fred wuz very Fred told me:: that he wuz very confused about that. (1.0) C: uh [uh huh ] W: [becuz ] I:: (.) he didn’t uh he thought that I wuz just (.) pardon me bee essing. (0.8) which I may have been doing I don’t think so. C: did it feel like a bee ess day to you? (0.8) W: no:: it didn’t. (.) C: i d um uh if you compa:re the da:ys where you feel down an negative and u::h i the the issues about letting other people down come up. .hh versus the day that you have that day that wuz very positive. W: no I’ve that’s how I felt when we were here.= C: =so it wasn’t a bullshit day [that wuz it wuz ] positive W: [I didn’t think so ] C: an it wuz real. W: i cou- uh uh it wuz tuh me?=

In 20, C begins the reformulation by claiming what cannot be attributed to W’s day (i.e., so it wasn’t a bullshit day). Here, C ties on to the previous talk in lines 07–11 in which F thought that W was bee essing about feeling positive. In lines 21 and 23, C then posits constrasting attributes to that day (i.e., positive and real). Attributes, of course, are not only aligned with days but with people. In Ex. (5:12), C attributes W with feeling confused an hurt an angry (line 01–02).

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(5:12) (A08P5) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 → 11 → 12 13 14 15 16

C:

W: C: W: C:

W: F: W:

right so so when you’re feeling (.) when you’re feeling confused an hurt an angry (.) this the idea the idea comes that (.) he doesn’t understand me. yeah.= =yeah? u::m how does that have you risponding to (.) to uh Fred. oh I I immediately go into a sarcastic mode. .hh so its not the anger doesn’t take over right away you don’t become outwardly angry you become outwardly sarcastic= =I:: become I I rarely become outwardly angry. (.) I [become ] (.) I become poutty:: [you sulk ] an an I sulk an .hh an sarcastic. (1.0)

As in Ex. (5:11), C’s reformulation involves those attributes that are or are not to be associated with W. In 11–12, C claims that W becomes outwardly sarcastic and not outwardly angry. W then ratifies C’s reformulation in the following turn by agreeing that she does not become outwardly angry. W also provides herself with a further set of attributes by claiming that she becomes poutty::. In sum, most of the social actions taking place in the above example have to do with finding the correct set of attributes to describe what W becomes. It should be pointed out, however, that intensive attributive reformulating clauses are not used in either genre of the narrative counselling interview to construe problems. In this way, narrative counselling is not about classifying clients’ behaviour. Instead, the counsellor make uses of intensive identifying reformulating clauses to identify client formulations as problems.

Intensive identifying: Identifying clauses differ from attributive ones in a number of ways. First, identifying clauses contain different Participant roles: Identified and Identifier. Unlike attributive clauses, identifying clauses do not assign class membership; x is not assigned to a certain class but is provided with a unique identity. To illustrate the difference between attributive and identifying clauses consider C’s reformulation in Ex. (5:11). Recall that C assigned W’s day to a certain class of days. This included days that are positive and real. In addition, C excluded W’s days from the set of bullshit days. By compari-

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son, identifying clauses function differently. Recall the example you you’re the mentor. Here, you is not being assigned to the class of mentors. Rather, you is provided with a unique identity. In the mentoring category being referred to, you and no one else can be given that identity. It would have been different if you you’re a mentor had been uttered. Then you would certainly have belonged to the class of mentors. This brings us to the second difference. The Identifier, unlike the attributor, is typically realized by a definite nominal group (e.g., the mentor). Third, identifying clauses tend to be reversible. Following the question Which is the mentor?, it is possible to get The mentor is W. Halliday also refers to Identified/Identifier as Token/Value, and it is the latter set of terms that I will continue to use in the subsequent chapters. Identification through Token-Value relationships in narrative counselling may be divided into exemplifying or signifying (see Martin 1992: 281 for a description of different identifying clause types). In the former, the Value provides an example, illustration or instance of the Token. For the latter, the Value provides the meaning, realization, or representation of the Token. An example of an exemplifying relational clause is shown in Ex. (5:13), and an example of a signifying relational clause is shown in Ex. (5:14). (5:13) (A08P2) 01 W: =.hh an I would like to be able to discuss these 02 th- any situation that we have (.) .hh uh openly honestly 03 adult (.) not like little children (.) 04 an an be able to communicate with each other 05 even if we have to fight 06 an then and then whatever .hh tuh tuh come tuh some 07 conclusion tuh bring a conclusion to a problem= → 08 C: =okay so so u::m (1.0) uh uhhh so this might be the dol:: → 09 u::m the Fred’s experience of you wantin tuh please others → 10 rather than pleasing yourself= 11 W: =uh huh= (5:14) (A08P3) 01 W: an have spoken to a room of full of people 02 without (1.0) breaking dow::n 03 or (.) I didn’t uh .hh 04 I find it difficult now just tuh .hh have the three the three:: 05 (.) kids at home 06 an .hh try an talk to them y’know

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07 08 C: 09 W: 10 11 → 12 C: 13 → 14 15 16 15 16 17

(1.0) mhm= =so its something about home its um (2.0) I don’t know what it is= =so wh what i like u::m .hh hhh s wow it means I think you’re putting your finger on it here (4.0) it means a certain legacy from you::r from your from your family (1.2) that you says that um (1.0) I hafta make sure everything’s okay at home an when its not .hh I hafta feel badly about it=

In lines 08–10 of Ex. (5:13) the Token this is assigned with the Value Fred’s experience of you wantin tuh please others rather than pleasing yourself. C’s this refers to W’s prior turn, what W had been claiming were the goals of counselling. W’s talk, in turn, is related to F’s experience. What the relational clause does is make W’s prior meanings an example of something else; it constructs W’s goals as being an example (or instance) of F’s experience. In Ex. (5:14) C reformulates in lines 12 and 14 by stating what W’s formulations mean. The Token it refers to W’s feeling badly and feeling that she is letting others down. In addition, C assigns a Value (a certain legacy from you::r from your from your family) that provides the Token’s signification. Notice also that the relational clause’s Value does further accounting work by providing a cause (i.e., a certain legacy) for W’s behaviour at home. Other commonly used intensive identifying reformulations are thematic equatives or pseudo-cleft constructions (Halliday 1994: 40). These constructions have a marked Value-Token structure, in that the Value, which is realized by an embedded wh-clause, tends to precede the Token. Thematic equatives are commonly used in signifying relationships of the sort ‘y is represented/realized/expressed by x’. Consider the following thematic equative taken from Ex. (5:15), lines 18–20: [[what you’re saying]] is Value

Process: Identifying

[[that um (1.2) um perhaps you’re very much taken by [[doing things right.]]]] Token

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The double brackets [[ ]] refer to embedded clauses (downranked or nominalized clauses). In this thematic equative, both the Value and the Token are nominalizations. The Value is a nominalization of the clause you’re saying and the Token is a nominalization of the reported projection. Instead of the clause complex appearing as a hypotactic projection (you’re saying that. . . ), it appears as a single relational clause in which both clauses have been downranked. As the name thematic equative suggests, one of its functions is to thematize one of clauses of the clause complex. In this case, F’s saying is the clause Theme and has become what the clause is about. Thematic equatives tend to serve an additional function when they are used to reformulate; that is, they tend to be used as global rather than local reformulations (see also the global functions of behavioural type reformulations in Section 5.2.2.1 above). The difference between global and local reformulations is that local reformulations mainly orient to the grammatical components of the preceding turn whereas global reformulations reach further back to incorporate meanings of more distant turns and even past sessions. In addition, global reformulations tie together past formulations and also provide a further layer of interpretation to client’s formulation. An example of a global reformulation is shown in (5:15). In this extract, F explains to C how he delays making a decision because he wants to keep the options open until the actual (.) day or time and he wants the option right up to the last minute (.) to divert around it. (5:15) (A08P2) 01 F: [I] wanna keep the options open until the actual 02 (.) day or time to the event right. (.) 03 but I want tuh have in my mind 04 okay that’s the a- proach probably tuh take 05 but I also want the option right up to the last minute (.) 06 to divert around it (1.0) 07 something might happen new informa08 do something else. (.) 09 so I I (2.5) so that there’s that much of me spur of the 10 moment (.) at the last minute it might change 11 but it does12 I don’t do much really spur of the moment do I (1.5) 13 I think 14 maybe I used to more 15 (7.0) 16 C: okay so let me get- lemme lemme lemme see

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17 → 18 → 19 → 20 21 22 23 24 25

if I understand it correctly .hh what you’re saying is [[that um (1.2) um perhaps you’re very much taken by [[doing things right.]]]] (.) which means of course that you can’t do things wrong. if you hafta do them right and the:: thes- the information out there is endless. (0.8) then you will need to keep getting more information always to make sure that you’re doing it right.

At the beginning of C’s turn, C prefaces his reformulation by stating that he wants to check his understanding of F’s formulations (so let me get- lemme lemme lemme see if I understand it correctly). Here, C makes an explicit intersubjective claim: C’s reformulation displays how well C understands what F has formulated. Further, C’s understanding can be ‘checked’ by F as C reformulates. Subsequent to the preface, C produces a reformulating thematic equative. As previously mentioned above, the nominalized reported projection is the Token and the nominalized reporting clause is the Value. The Token of the thematic equative expresses what F is reported to be saying. Note that F does not, in his turn, mention doing things right. First mention of doing things right occurred at the beginning of the session and C, a good five or ten minutes into the session, now re-introduces this term again. What C has done is reached back into the conversation in order to relate some prior talk to what F has just formulated. In doing so, doing things right becomes associated with keeping one’s options open and gathering new information. The global aspects of this reformulation, therefore, include C’s use of grammatical resources from more distant turns and the inferences that C draws from F’s talk; that is, that keeping the options open relates to doing things right.

Possessive: In addition to expressing ‘is’ relationships, relational clauses may also express ownership or containment. Two Participant roles correspond to possessives: Possessor and Possessed. Ex. (5:16) illustrates C’s use of a possessive reformulation in which F is claimed to possess (i.e., have) a certain idea. In lines 10 and 13–14, F claims that he would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong and that there are better ways tuh do it than I- the way I would do it naturally. C reformulates these parts of F’s turn in lines 16–17 by embedding their contents within the head noun idea: this idea [[that if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong]].

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(5:16) (A08P2) 01 F: I seem to have a different decision making 02 (0.8) pattern than other people 03 or uh (0.8) I just don’t agree with a lot’ve people (1.0) 04 I don’t see do it .hh 05 I don’t seem to think 06 th(hh)e (lathe) huh heh .hh 07 I’ve always I’ve always felt 08 that I kinda make (.) different decisions or different choices 09 I have different tastes .hh u::m (1.8) 10 an would would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong (1.0) 11 uh according to what one should do. 12 but I’m aware 13 that there are better ways tuh do it 14 than I- the way I would do it naturally 15 (1.2) → 16 C: uh huh (4.5) .hh i- u::m have you always had this idea that → 17 if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong

The reformulation consists of relating you with this idea through the Process had. In this way, F’s prior formulation concerning doing it wrong becomes embedded within an idea that F possesses. An argument could be made that this Process signals containment rather than possession, because ideas or thoughts are often seen as being contained within our heads (see Section 5.3.1.1). Containment possessives construe part-whole relations in which the possessor is the ‘whole’ and the possessed its ‘part.’ Possessive type reformulations generally position the client or a possessive deictic (i.e., your experience, your role) as the ‘whole.’ The ‘part’ is often realized by a definite nominal group or a nominalized process. The next example shows a possessive reformulation that contains a complex numerative nominal group (i.e., part’ve your role). The nominal group Head, part, already conveys a part-whole relation between W’s role and something to be identified as being part of F’s role. (5:17) (A08P3) 01 C: 02 03 04 W: 05 06

mhm did you see it as part of your function your job [[to actually make other people happy?]] (1.5) um (2.2) I think that making other people may not be the correct term but .hh making sure

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07 → 08 C: → 09

that everyone else is: uh is okay (.) y’know so so part’ve your role is [[tuh make sure everybody’s okay]] which means that they’re not being let down

Even before C reformulates, he fishes for behaviours that may be identified with W’s function or job (i.e., part of your function your job to actually make other people happy?). In W’s subsequent turn, she disagrees with C’s identification and suggests instead that it is making sure that everyone else is: uh is okay. When reformulating, C selects W’s alternative description of her function and relates it instead to her role, a term that is synonymous with function or job. The point, however, is that C is constructing part-whole relations in terms of W’s role and what it consists of. ... Existential clauses Existential clauses bear similarity to relational clauses in that they are typically realized by the verb be. However, unlike relational clauses, they only come with one Participant, the Existent. In Ex. (5:18) line 17, some agreement between both of you is the Existent, and there does not serve any representational function. Existential processes used in reformulating bear resemblance to thematic equatives in that they tend to serve a more global function; that is, they also reach further back than one turn. Consider Ex. (5:18) in which F and C discuss the way that F and W relate to each other. F claims in lines 08–16 that although they were not better at relating in the past, they bounce back or walk away from problems and disputes more easily. (5:18) (A08P1) 01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 F: 09 10 11 12 13 14 W:

.hh do you think that um what is true that in the past before depression came into Wendy Sue’s life .hh that you were able tuh bring things up you could discuss them in ways that uh were relationship enhancing rather than relationship destroying (2.0) I don’t think we did it much better before th- than we do now but we were more resilient we bounced back or .hh [or stepped away from it we ] [we weren’t ( ) as much ]

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15 F: 16 → 17 C: → 18 → 19

didn’t have to be together so much y’know y- you could walk away from it so there is some agreement between both of you that communication of some form ahh is a major part of the problem

C’s reformulation in lines 17–19 does not tie back to and hence transform any specific parts of F’s grammar. The topic of communication was mentioned by W and F earlier on in this session, and it is to that point in the conversation that C’s reformulation is partially referring back. C’s reformulation, of course, is also responding to F’s previous turn. They are discussing communication and C’s use of communication in line 17 relates to that. There is another way in which this existential reformulation functions. It signals a conclusion; that is, C is concluding that W and F agree to his claim. Put differently, claiming merely that something exists does not open up space for disputability. Existential processes also construe quantitative instantiations within the Existent (Davidse 2000). In Ex. (5:18), quantity is realized in “some agreement” and in Ex. (5:19), in “two things.” Through quantification, C is able to create a list. Consider the following example in which C and F are discussing why W might not want to discuss something with F. (5:19) (A08P5) 01 C: .hh do you think u::m (.) 02 whad’you think u::m (1.2) u::m (3.0) 03 would convince u::h Wendy Sue 04 that it wouldn’t be a good idea tuh sit down 05 an discuss this with you. 06 (3.5) 07 F: cuz I might disagree with her. → 08 C: .hh so there might be well → 09 there might be two things w i u::h thinking 10 one is the idea that you’re wrong. (0.8) 11 a::nd if you say something 12 that’ll jus come out wrong. 13 so no wonder you wanna don’t wanna talk about things .hh 14 but it might also be becuz .hh um you hafta prove that you’re 15 right. (1.0)

In 08 onwards, C provides a list of two reasons why W avoids discussion (i.e., there might be two things); namely, one is the idea that you’re wrong. and you

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hafta prove that you’re right. Through this two-part list, C is able to reformulate two previously discussed behaviours (the idea that you’re wrong and proving you’re right) and relate them to W wanting to avoid discussion (a topic introduced in session one). .. Agency: Analytic causatives Causative constructions are considered in the subsequent chapter. However, since causative verbs are used in reformulating processes, some attention will be given to causation here. What I focus on is causative verbal group complexes. These are single clauses that contain two Processes of the general type “make X do” or “get X to do” in which the first Process realizes cause (e.g., make, cause, have, get, allowed) and the second corresponds to any of the six Process types (i.e., verbal, mental, behavioural, etc.). Causative verbal group complexes are often given an ergative rather than a transitive interpretation (Halliday 1994: 171). In an ergative analysis, the Participant that causes an event is referred to as the Agent. The ergative system is modelled by causation or instigation (Davidse 1992: 109). Consider the invented examples “counselling improved the problem” (effective voice) and “the problem improved” (middle voice). From an ergative perspective, the difference between these two clauses involves external vs. self-instigation. The clause counselling improved the problem consists of an external Agent that instigates a Process-Medium complex (i.e., improved the problem). The clause the problem improved, by contrast, is ambivalent between an internal and external Agent reading; that is, the problem may have improved on its own, or it may have been instigated by some external Agent. For simplicity, I will refer to all causal Participants as Agents irrespective of whether they bring about material, verbal, mental, behavioural, existential or relational Processes. One difference between ergative clauses involving an external Agent and analytic causatives concerns voice. As Davidse (1992: 119) argues, “ergative structures alter the inherent voice of the Medium-Process complex; analytic causation does not alter the inherent voice of the process-participant(s) complex to which it adds a feature of ‘causation’.” In ergative clauses, adding an external instigator changes the voice from middle to effective. This kind of transformation does not occur in analytical causatives. In examples (5:20) and (5:21), even though external agency has been added to a mental Process realized by the verb think (so does analysis have you thinking of that. . . and oh. (1.0) so it makes m- you thinking that. . . ), the voice remains unaltered.

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When using causative verbal group complexes to reformulate, counsellors often construct the effect of causation in terms of a cognitive Process. Clients, therefore, are positioned as made to think something. The Agent of Cause is most often some kind of problem. Examples (5:20) and (5:21) illustrate reformulations of Cause in which an Agent makes the client think certain things. In Ex. (5:20) C nominalizes F’s use of the Process analyze (lines 01–02 and 04– 05), transforming it into the Agent of F’s cognitive Processes. A similar kind of nominalizing occurs in Ex. (5:21). In line 10 the pronominal Agent it is a nominalization that refers back to W’s previously articulated feelings. Once again, W’s cognitive Processes are constructed as resulting from a certain Agent. (5:20) (AO8P1) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 → 17 → 18 → 19 20 21 22 23

F: that if she .hh if she would analyze (1.5) other things right like. I wanted tuh analyze this then she would understand those things better too if she would could analyze her job .hh if she could’ve analyzed her job and the relationships and the people she worked for the way I like tuh do things C: mhm F: then she wouldn’t be surprised when [she is not appreciated ] C: [does does would ] F: or is disappointed although I wuz surprised when I wuz when I wuz let go::: C: mhm F: it didn’t take me long tuh say well well of course what d’you expect y’know C: so does analysis have you thinking of that Wendy in some ways is a shallow women. that she isn’t as deep a thinker as you are. (1.0) that’s wh- that’s sort’ve what [I’m hearing no okay ] F: [no:: no:: ] I think she she th- thinks very deeply about things C: mhm

(5:21) (A08P5) 01 W: there’s alotta things that] go:: through my head 02 when when we (.) have a day like this

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03 04 05 06 07 08 09 → 10 → 11 12 13 14

and (.) an becos I’m very insecure? (1.2) ah an Fred I feel that Fred could uh find someone whom would understand him. C: d does this [idea that I’m ] W: [an he’d be ] really happy. (1.0) C: oh. (1.0) so it makes m- you thinking that you’re the wrong person for the marriage? W: sure. (3.0) many times I feel that. (1.2) that I’m the wrong person. (2.2) he needs someone who is intellectual.

. Formulation-reformulation It has thus far been argued that reformulations are a sub-type of elaboration and are, in these counselling sessions, grammatically realized by all 6 clause types. Furthermore, the choice of clause or the grammatical realization of the reformulation is partly constitutive of its function. Reformulations of projecting, for instance, elaborate client’s prior formulation in terms of a saying or a sensing. Reformulations of doing position the client or client’s behaviour (i.e., the problem) as an Actor or Behaver. Finally, reformulations of being tend to either relate an entity with attributes or identities, or introduce the existence of something. In this section, I turn from the lexicogrammatical realization of a reformulation to reformulation as a discourse semantic relation. In doing so, I refer to Martin’s (1992: 208) treatment of reformulation as a comparative (i.e., conjunctive) relation. In other words, reformulations are conjunctively linked to a prior formulation, and in this way construe a comparison between two linguistic objects. For Martin (1992: 212) reformulation involves the reworking or adjustment of meaning. Therefore, reformulation, unlike opposition, orients to similarities rather than differences in meaning. This simply means that reformulations are not a form of disagreement. Although reformulations can significantly alter the prior formulation’s lexical-grammatical content, it is still similarities in and not oppositions between meanings that are realized. Martin suggests that when reworking or clarifying meaning, reformulations can either shift a formulation’s level of abstraction or generality. Shifts

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Reformulations as local transformations  exhaust (that is) abstraction rework reformulation

exemplify (for example) generality

adjust

Figure 5.2 Systemic options for reformulation

in abstraction or generality are done via grammatical transformations between the formulation and reformulation. Abstraction involves the identification of one entity in terms of another (such as in the Token-Value structure of identifying relational clauses); that is, meanings tend to be abstracted via exhaustion (e.g., that is, in other words) or exemplification (e.g., for example, for instance). Generality, on the other hand, involves assigning class membership to an entity (such as in attributive relational clauses). A partial system network for reformulations, adapted from Martin (1992: 217), is shown in Figure 5.2. Reformulations in narrative counselling are most commonly of the abstraction type, in which identifying relational clauses are used to rankshift, or nominalize, clients’ previous formulations. A commonly used resource of abstraction is grammatical metaphor (see also discussion of grammatical metaphor in Chapter 3). Following Halliday (1994: 340f.), grammatical metaphor refers to the various ways in which ‘meanings’ are realized in the grammar. On the ideational side of grammatical metaphor, Halliday argues that ideational meanings such as manner, cause, space, and time are realized congruently across clauses and metaphorically within clauses. Ex. (5:22) illustrates how a temporal-causal meaning realized congruently across clauses (and turns) becomes metaphorically realized, and therefore abstracted, as an embedding within an identifying relational clause. (5:22) (AO8P5)

→ → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09

W: well he he asked answers a qu- question with a question. (.) C: so what’s that like fer you. what h(hh)appens [for ] you W: [h(hh)eh) ] C: when it happens= W: =well then I then I get very con- then I get uh (1.5) then I get confused an I get angry. (.)

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10 11 12 F: 13 W:

38 C: → 39 → 40

an I I jus think geez fer once .hh couldn’t you answer my question with an answer. with an answer.= . . . so let’s take this w one person at a time. yeah? (1.0) .hh u::m (.) so what happens is you end up feeling confused an angry.

The discussion at the beginning concerns how W feels when F answers W’s question with a question. In lines 04 and 06, C introduces a temporal-causal clause complex (i.e., what h(hh)appens [for] you when it happens) in which it refers to F’s answering W’s question with a question. In lines 07 onwards, W provides the Result of F’s action in the form of a then-clause (i.e., then I get confused an I get angry. (.). . . ). In sum, temporality (when X, Y; as temporal unfolding) and causality (X, then Y; in which X causes Y) are expressed congruently and are realized in the first half of this example. C’s reformulation of being in line 39 uses different grammatical resources to realize temporal and causal meaning. To begin, C expresses a happening in terms of a relationship (i.e., so what happens is you end up feeling confused an angry). Two nominalizations have occurred. The first is realized in the Value ([[what happens]]) and the second in the Token ([[you end up feeling confused an angry]]). Additional abstraction is realized by the relational clause because, since Values serve to identify Tokens, these two nominalizations represent different orders of abstraction. [[what happens]] is [[you end up feeling confused an angry]] Value Process: Token Identifying

The Value is a nominalization of C’s clause in line 06. C’s reformulation transforms the dependent clause when it happens into an embedding that functions as Value in a relational clause. The second nominalization transforms W’s clause realizing Result, then I get confused an I get angry, into an embedding that functions as Token. More specifically, W’s temporal relator then is metaphorically expressed by C as a verbal group expansion – end up feeling. In sum, two kinds of abstraction have taken place. First, W’s talk has been nominalized

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and second, different aspects of W’s nominalized talk are related to each other through an identifying relational clause. Repackaging the semantics, as in the case of temporal and causal meaning above, also changes the semantics. For Halliday, congruent and metaphorical realizations are not simply different ways of expressing the same meaning. As shown above, different grammatical realizations translate into different grammatical functions. Realizing Result as a clause complex (when X, then Y) is not the same as realizing Result within a Token. In the latter, Result is realized as the relationship between a happening (i.e., what happens is. . . ) and what W feels. What has been removed is the antecedent to the Result; namely, F’s answering W’s question with a question. Instead, the reformulation thematizes a happening, thereby making W’s feelings what the ensuing talk is going to be about. What the example above also illustrates is that grammatical realizations such as conjunctions or even whole clauses can be repackaged as or within embedded clauses. For instance, both clauses of the temporal-causal clause complex were reformulated as embedded clauses within a relation clause. Also, the realization of Result changed from a conjunction to a verbal group expansion within an embedded clause. This movement towards nominalization has been extensively documented by Halliday (1994: 340f., 1998) and his work on grammatical metaphor (see also Halliday & Martin 1993; Martin 1991b, 1992, 1996 for extensive discussions of grammatical metaphor). Halliday (1994: 41) defines nominalization as a structural feature “whereby any element or group of elements is made to function as a nominal group in the clause.” Under the list of elements that may undergo nominalization, Halliday (1998: 211) includes relators, circumstances and processes. In other words, anything can work its way into a nominal group. And, equally important, there is a tendency for grammatical realizations to end up as ‘things.’ As Halliday (1998:211) argues: . . . here we can recognise what we might call a general drift: this is the drift towards ‘thinginess.’ The direction of metaphor is a move towards the concrete – with nouns, typically the names of participants (concrete objects, animals and persons) as the terminal point. The noun is the most metaphorically attractive category: everything else can end up as a noun. This drift towards the concrete is, of course, exactly what one finds to be a feature of metaphor in its traditional, lexicalised sense.

Some of the functions of nominalization have been taken up in Halliday and Martin (1993) and Martin and Veel (1998). These functions include, especially in the discourse of science and geography, defining, classifying and construct-

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ing implicational relationships. As I will show in the subsequent chapter, nominalization in narrative counselling also orients to these functions. However, before proceeding to these more general functions of nominalization, focus will instead be placed on illustrating the grammatical transformations occurring in narrative counselling. Halliday (1994: 349) has argued that grammatical metaphor is primarily a resource of writing. For instance, clauses of a written text have a higher lexical density than clauses of spoken language, because more ‘meanings’ tend to be packed into the nominal groups of written texts. The clause type that plays a major role in enabling abstraction is the identifying relational clause (see Halliday & Martin 1993: 40–41) Writing tends to rely more on lexical resources to pack meanings into clauses, whereas speaking tends to rely more on the resources of clause taxis so that meaning can be realized across clauses. Narrative Counselling also seems to support this tendency even though it occurs in the spoken and not the written mode. While clients tend to rely on the resources of clause taxis to formulate their claims, C’s reformulations tend to nominalize and pack meanings into clauses. I would argue, therefore, that grammatical metaphor – or more specifically nominalization – is a resource of elaboration. When reformulating (i.e., restating, rewording, clarifying), there is a tendency to compress congruently realized meanings into single clauses (it is possible that the opposite tendency would occur if clients were to formulate using a high degree of abstraction). This, I will argue in the subsequent chapter, relates to C’s discursive practices of ordering the experiential world by creating a vocabulary to define and identify problems and by constructing causality. It is partly for these reasons that so many of clients’ ideational meanings end up in nominal groups. And, it is a primary aim of this chapter to illustrate what parts of clients’ formulations get packaged into which parts of C’s nominal groups. So far, the focus on counselling reformulations has mainly been ideational, in which the reformulating clause is conjunctively linked to client’s formulation. Reformulations, however, also have an interpersonal component, since they begin a new turn within a conversational exchange. A reformulating exchange appears as follows (T=turn; n ≥ 1): T1-n : Formulation T1 : Reformulation

As already demonstrated in the above examples, clients’ formulations may but need not be immediately prior to counsellor’s reformulation. The counsellor may reformulate contributions that occurred some turns before or even in previous sessions. Although formulation-reformulation constitutes a 2-part

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interactive sequence, it does not constitute an adjacency pair. The reason for this is that a client’s formulation does not make a subsequent counsellor reformulation relevant; that is, following a formulation, an array of next actions may occur, one of which is a reformulation. There are, however, certain kinds of formulations that (strongly) sequentially implicate a reformulation. These are extreme case formulations and are examined in Chapter 6. Interpersonally, a formulation-reformulation sequence may be seen as an exchange of information or of propositions. In the first pair part, the formulation, clients utter propositions that construe an event or series of events. The second pair part, the reformulation, negotiates client’s propositions by reconstruing them. In this way, clients’ social and experiential reality is placed under continuous negotiation. Throughout this chapter, negotiation has been viewed from Bakhtin’s perspective of dialogism. Drawing on P. White’s (2003) work, dialogism was interpreted as the degree to which the negotiability of meanings (and speakers’ voices) may be expanded or contracted. Since reformulations in narrative counselling tend to emphasize similarities rather than differences in meaning, they tend to expand dialogism; that is, counsellor reformulations do not attempt to efface other’s point of view. Instead, they tend to acknowledge it, by retaining elements of clients’ original meanings. For instance, it was shown that projecting and behavioural reformulating clauses tended to open up dialogic space, because they incorporated clients’ locutions and ideas through verbal and mental processes. Relational reformulating processes also expand dialogism. But, as will be shown in 5.3.1.2, they are more difficult to argue with, because they pack so many meanings into nominal groups. Also related to interpersonal meaning is the status of the conversational participants; that is, is there an asymmetry in terms of who uses which resources in specific conversational contexts? Since it is the counsellor who reformulates clients’ social realities and not vice versa, counsellors may be argued to have expert status. Counsellors who make frequent use of reformulations construct hierarchy, whereby the counsellor is on top as the ‘knower’, and as the one who directs logogenesis in terms of which meanings are to be selected, when and for what duration. The clients, on the other hand, are the ones being directed, and the ones whose experience, social roles and identities are constantly being reworked. Reformulations also make use of textual resources. For instance, reformulations are commonly realized as thematic equatives. These structures place a certain aspect of clients’ formulation in thematic position. By doing this, the counsellor is able to structure what clients’ social and experiential reality is about. For instance, the counsellor’s thematic equative in (5:22) reconstrues



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 Chapter 5

W’s formulation in terms of a happening (i.e., so what happens is. . . ) and in (5:15), the formulation is reconstrued in terms of C’s verbaliation (i.e., what you’re saying is . . . ). To understand the function(s) of reformulating, I suggest that it is first important to examine what gets transformed: What bits of clients’ ideational (and interpersonal and textual) meanings are selected and re-shaped by the counsellor. In the rest of this chapter, I explore nominalization, a major kind of transformative practice used in narrative counselling. .. Nominalization Nominalizing an element (e.g., verbal group) or figure (e.g., clause) provides the element or figure with a new lexicogrammatic and semantic status. As a nominal group it can, for instance, function as the Participant of a clause. This is what is meant by resemanticization. For instance, if a Process gets nominalized as the Participant of a new clause, two Processes (the new Process and the metaphorical nominalized one) are now said to be contained within a single clause. There are two slots within a nominal group that C makes frequent use of when reformulating: The Head and the Postmodifier. ... Head To illustrate an instance of nominalization in which a client’s Process is transformed by C into a Head (noun), consider the following lines of Ex. (5:20). (5:20) (A08P1) 01 F: that if she .hh if she would analyze (1.5) other things right 02 like. I wanted tuh analyze this 03 then she would understand those things better too 04 if she would could analyze her job .hh 05 if she could’ve analyzed her job and the relationships and the 06 people she worked for the way I like tuh do things . . . 18 C: so does analysis have you thinking of

In F’s turn, W is construed as the Behaver of the behavioural Process analyze (i.e., if she would analyze (1.5) other things, if she would could analyze her job and if she could’ve analyzed her job and the relationships . . . ). Furthermore, F always relates W’s actions to his own. In 02 and 06, W’s ability to analyze is

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compared to F’s, with F’s ability serving as the point of comparison (i.e., like. I wanted tuh analyze this and the way I like tuh do things). In other words, F is claiming that W would be better off if she would analyze as F does. In 18, C reformulates using a causative Process. In doing so, he nominalizes F’s use of the Process analyze, transforming it into the Agent of a causative verbal group complex (i.e., so does analysis have you thinking). Semantically, analyze has changed from being a Process that both W and F engage in, to a Participant in a causative clause that gets F to think certain things. A somewhat more complex example is shown in (5:23). It occurs earlier on and is taken from the same session as (5:20). In addition to nominalizing a Process, C also nominalizes a quality (i.e., an adjective). The Process that becomes nominalized is the mental Process think (see arrowed utterances 11, 15, 19, 21, 22) and the quality is irritated (line 02). (5:23) (AO8P1) 01 F: I suppose → 02 I get irritated 03 because she won’t play the game (1.8) 04 because I’ve I’ve I’ve embarked upon this .hh this path 05 this little process I’m trying tuh go through 06 and she won’t she won’t participate in it (1.2) 07 and I guess 08 i in the past when I wuz more confident 09 and I knew everything in the world 10 then I would pursue it like a dog with a bone → 11 now I think 12 I throw up my arms 13 or maybe I don’t even do that 14 maybe I just quit on it .hh → 15 but I think 16 I probably send you a pretty good message that (1.5) 17 like maybe you won’t play 18 or you’re not willing → 19 or you’re too stupid 20 to follow what I’m trying to do → 21 I might I I’ve thought that on occasion → 22 I thought 23 this must be too difficult for her y’know 24 she can’t understand what I’m trying tuh do here 25 C: r::ight but do you really believe that about her

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26 F: no → 27 C: .hh so what is it that’s putting these ideas in your head .hh → 28 is it irritation 29 that when you get irritated → 30 it leads to these thoughts that my wife is stupid and she can’t → 31 understand 32 and I’ll just I’ll just back down (1.5) → 33 is res- is irritation giving you the idea 34 like if this [is a hard way tuh think about things]

In this excerpt F’s formulations are often projected by cognitive Processes (i.e., suppose, guess, think). Most of the time, these cognitive Processes serve an interpersonal function; namely, they introduce a modal space of probability (e.g., I suppose I get irritated; now I think I throw up my arms). These are interpersonal metaphors of modality in which the projecting clause means something like probably. Furthermore, through the introduction of probability F creates an interactive modal space in which his claims may be negotiated. In lines 21–22, however, F’s use of thought does not modalize the projecting clause but projects it in terms of a cognition; that is, these are not modality metaphors. One reason for this is that thought occurs in past not present tense. So, whereas I guess/suppose/think add probability to the projected clause, I guessed/supposed/thought project an idea in terms of a past cognition. As in Ex. (5:20), C’s nominalizations of F’s talk serve as Participants in reformulating causative clauses. In line 27 these ideas realizes the Participant role Goal of the Process putting. I argue that, in this context, putting is a metaphorical variant of a causative Process. In order to understand this claim, compare the causal clauses of Ex. (5:20) and (5:23): Ex. Participant Process Participant Process Circumstance (5:20) analysis have you thinking (5:23) that ’s putting -these ideas in your head

Ex. (5:20) contains a causative verbal group complex (have. . . thinking), whereas Ex. (5:23) is a simple material Process (putting). While the former is clearly causative, the latter is less clearly so because of various metaphorical transformations. First, these ideas is a nominalization – I propose that thought and idea are synonyms and that both can operate as nominalizations of think. So, in (5:23) not one but two Processes are contained within the clause. Second, a conduit metaphor is used in which head serves as a container for ideas. Unpacking this metaphor slightly, we can claim that ideas in your head is agnate

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to you thinking certain ideas. Third, putting, in this context, is a metaphorical realization of having, getting or causing. To summarize then, putting these ideas in your head is agnate to have you thinking that. . . , which is a metaphorical realization of Ex. (5:20). In the subsequent line, C provides the Agent of the Cause (i.e., is it irritation). However, in lines 29–30 C constructs a different causal construction in which Cause is not only realized within the clause but across clauses. The ideational breakdown of lines 29–30 is shown below. Relator Participant Process Participant β when you get irritated α it leads to these thoughts [[that my wife is stupid]] and [[she can’t understand]]

Causality is realized between clauses through the temporal conjunction when and within the α-clause by the causative Process leads. Thus the relationship between getting irritated and having thoughts is not merely a simultaneous happening but a resultative one in which irritation results in (i.e., leads to) thoughts. Note that the nominalization thoughts links via synonomy to ideas. However, unlike these ideas, thoughts is not the Goal of a Process but the Value/Result of the causative (circumstantial) relational Process leads to. Further, thoughts in line 30 becomes the head of a nominal group that is expanded through a Postmodifier. these

thoughts that my wife is stupid and she can’t understand Premodifier Head Postmodifier

Note that the Postmodifier contains two embedded clauses and was derived from F’s formulations of lines 19 and 24 (i.e., or you’re too stupid and she can’t understand what I’m trying tuh do here). If F’s talk is examined more closely for its ideational structure, the similarities and differences between F’s formulation and C’s reformulation can be brought into sharp relief. This is shown in Table 5.1. In the first transformation, C reformulates what F had formulated as the Goal of the Process send (i.e., a pretty good message that. . . you’re too stupid) into the Result of the causative Process leads (i.e., these thoughts that my wife is

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Table 5.1 Lexicogrammatical differences between F’s formulation and C’ reformulation Tranformation

F’s Formulation

1. Goal → Result I probably send you Both have status of Postmodifier a pretty good message that. . . you’re too stupid 2. Clause Projection → Nominal I thought. . . Group Projection she can’t understand what I’m trying tuh do here

C’s Reformulation it leads to these thoughts that my wife is stupid it leads to these thoughts that. . . she can’t understand

stupid). Both have a similar grammatical construction but their semantic construction in terms of how they participate in a Process has changed. The second transformation reformulates a clause complex of projection into a nominal group. Here, thought as a projecting Process gets nominalized and the projected clause becomes a Postmodifier. It is through this resemanticization of nominal groups’ Participant roles and the nominalization of Processes that C is able to build up causal relationships. ... Postmodifier In Ex. (5:23), it was shown how clients’ formulations also became packaged and transformed into Postmodifiers of nominal groups. In terms of speakers’ use of lexicogrammar, what happened was C reformulated F’s clause complex of projection into a Head-Postmodifier that functioned as the Result in a causative relational clause: 15 F: but I think 16 I probably send you a pretty good message that (1.5) 17 like maybe you won’t play 18 or you’re not willing 19 or you’re too stupid . . . 29 C: that when you get irritated 30 it leads to these thoughts that my wife is stupid. . .

The Postmodifier in line 30 is, however, subtly different from line 19: F’s formulation is you’re too stupid and C’s reformulation is my wife is stupid. Although C utters my wife, C is obviously not referring to his wife but to F’s. What C does is imbue the Postmodifier with sense of quotedness, as if C were holding on

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to F’s formulation by maintaining F’s perspective through the 1st person possessive my. This is an example of C reformulating by approximating client’s own words and by uttering those words from the client’s perspective, as a quote. This practice occurs frequently in the early stages of counselling, in Problem Identification. Here, clients’ formulations often appear in C’s reformulations as Postmodifiers; that is, clients’ formulations are nominalized as an embedded clause. Interpersonally, nominalization serves to decrease the negotiability of the contents of a clause. As Halliday and Martin (1993: 39) point out, “you can argue with a clause but you can’t argue with a nominal group.” This decreased negotiability becomes clear if line 30 of (5:23) is, once again, examined. The negotiable part of this clause is the Subject it. 30 it leads to these thoughts that my wife is stupid. . . 31 yes it does/ no it doesn’t

In order to negotiate or challenge the contents of the Head (i.e., thoughts) or Postmodifier (i.e., my wife is stupid) realized in the Rheme, the client would have to do slightly more discursive work. F would, for instance, have to rebut with something like I don’t have those thoughts or I don’t think that my wife is stupid. Less negotiable, or course, does not mean non-negotiable. Clients can challenge C’s abstractions by unpacking them. The point is, however, that abstractions require more work to challenge and, for this reason, have a greater chance at gaining acceptance. Nominalizations of this kind fit well into the expository goals of the counselling process, since they help C to persuade the clients of his reformulated version of the clients’ experiential and social reality. It is important to point out that the practice of abstraction in narrative counselling differs vastly from constructing technicality in scientific registers. Here, Wignell et al. (1993) differentiate between vernacular or everyday terms and field-specific technical terms. They argue that technical terms are nominal group constituents that often appear in Classifier ^ Thing compounds. Examples from geography include relief rainfall, convection currents and water vapour (Wignell et al. 1993: 146). Technical terms are often associated with definitions. A common resource for defining is the identifying relational clause. Here, the technical term, the Token, is given a specific definition or Value. Some examples are provided below (The Token is enclosed in braces {. . . } and the Value in square brackets[. . . ]): – {An ecosystem} is [that home or place in which a community or group of interacting plants and animals live]

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– {The biome} is [the living part of the ecosystem] – {Precipitation} refers to [all forms of water which fall (precipitate) from the sky] (Wignell et al. 1993: 149)

In sum, counsellor reformulations are the major means in which local semiotic transformations become realized. Through reformulations, the counsellor is able to negotiate clients’ experiential and social reality. Unlike scientific registers, however, counselling does not make use of technicality. Thus, problems are not defined or placed within problem taxonomies. Instead, narrative counselling makes extensive use of grammatical metaphor to clarify or rework what clients mean. Grammatical metaphor enables the counsellor to nominalize clients’ formulations of events by construing these events as Head or Postmodifier of a nominal group. Nominalization is an important resource in the narrative counselling process. As I show in the subsequent chapter, reformulations that nominalize clients’ talk mark the onset of problem construction. It is through nominalizing that problems can be identified. In this way, local reformulating practices feed into the more global generic stages of the narrative counselling interview and provide the groundwork for counselling logogenesis.

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Chapter 6

Problem construction

. Overview In this chapter I describe problem construction, the first genre of the narrative counselling interview macro-genre. In order for problem construction to occur, two stages must be realized. First, an event must be identified as a problem and, second, the event must be construed as the Agent of clients’ behaviour. These stages of problem construction, taken from Figure 4.7, are illustrated in Figure 6.1. Narrative Counselling Interview

1 Problem Construction* (Genre 1) Ù 1 x2 Problem Indentification Problem Agency (Stage 1) (Stage 2) Ù 1 =2 Formulation Reformulation [[Recount]]

O

Ù

Ù REC C

O = Orientation REC = Record C = Coda

Figure 6.1 Genre 1 of the narrative counselling interview

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The first stage is realized in a formulation-reformulation exchange, in which the couple recounts past experiences and the counsellor reworks, or restates, those experiences. The second stage, Problem Agency, builds upon the first stage by assigning problems with Agency. Also important are the effects that problems have on clients. From the counselling data it was found that problems instigated client cognitions; that is, clients were construed as Sensers of mental clauses, in which clients believe or think in negative ways. Ex. (6:1) illustrates these stages of problem construction. In 01, C recapitulates what was just done in counselling using a behavioural reformulating clause. In lines 01– 05, the problem is realized as the Agent of Processes such as effecting, shaping, influencing and changing. The Participant whom the problem acts on is, in each case, the client or a synecdoche that stands for the client (e.g., your life, your reputation). In line 07, clients are realized as Sensers in which their beliefs help to sustain the problem. Finally, in 12, the problem is identified as indecisiveness. (6:1) (A08P2) 01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 W: 22 F: 23 24

=awright .hh so in this therapy we talked a little bit about the effects (1.0) that the problem has on your life .hh an how it shapes you .hh an how it u::h influences you .hh an how it u::h changes your reputation in other people’s eyes? .hh and uh what kind of believes you have that will support this problem an where did you get those from? becuz in here (.) Fred’s not the problem. Wendy Sue’s not the problem. this indecisiveness is the problem at least for for Fred .hh so we have indecisiveness is spreading its influence not of- not o:nly away from the both of you but down into your children as well .hh such that they believe now that Fred cannot make a decision without conferring with Wendy Sue. they don’t even go through Fred first now anymore [they go straightly to you ] [I didn’t even think of ] tha::t [I mean ] [that’s true ] I think that’s true well I would say that=

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Problem construction

C’s commentary of the just-elapsed counselling activity imposes a different order on what happened. The text-time (how events are organized in the text) that is realized in C’s turn, therefore, does not match the field-time (how the events unfolded in real time) of counselling. Problem identification does not occur last, as C’s turn might indicate; rather, problem identification occurs first. Nonetheless, to construct a problem in narrative counselling, problem identification on its own is not sufficient. Problems must also be realized as Agents that affect clients; and clients, in turn, must believe in the problem’s agency. So, to acquire the status of ‘problem’, an event must acquire agency and clients must acquire a belief in that agency. Ex. (6:1) also gives us some insight into C’s aims and how they relate to narrative therapy. M. White and Epston (1990: 38) have argued that a central interviewing practice in narrative therapy involves externalizing, in which “the problem becomes a separate entity and thus external to the person or relationship that was ascribed as the problem.” In lines 08–10, we can see that C is following this line of action (Fred’s not the problem. Wendy Sue’s not the problem. this indecisiveness is the problem at least for for Fred). Another aspect of externalizing involves “mapping the influence of the problem” (M. White & Epston 1990: 42). This practice relates to exploring how the problem – as an entity that is separate from the client – influences clients’ lives and relationships. C’s explorations of how the problem, indecisiveness, has shaped, influenced and affected W and F are a realization of this narrative practice. In Chapter 4 it was suggested that narrative counselling is a pedagogic practice in which regulation projects instruction. In the Problem Construction genre, regulation is foregrounded; that is, the counsellor tends to regulate clients’ social actions, by reformulating clients’ formulations of self and other’s behaviour and by asking clients to provide specific information pertaining to the problem’s causal influences. Although instruction is also fore-grounded in this genre, it is only when the counselling interview turns to problem effacement that instruction becomes more visible.

. Problem Identification Problem Identification is the first stage in problem construction. Analysis of the lexicogrammatical resources used in this stage revealed that the counsellor transformed clients’ formulations of events into more abstract meanings. Abstraction was achieved by reformulating clients’ congruent descriptions of events into more metaphorical descriptions. Increasingly abstract realizations

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of clients’ descriptions of events are realized by two kinds of lexicogrammatical resources: Identifying processes and nominalization. Through identifying processes, counsellors are able to associate clients’ formulations with a different order of abstraction. What clients have said can therefore be identified as ‘meaning’ something else. Nominalization also realizes abstraction because clients’ congruent formulations get treated as ‘things’ in the lexicogrammar. A comparison between clients’ congruent formulations and counsellor’s abstracted reformulations that identify a problem are shown in Table 6.1 (relevant parts of client formulation and counsellor reformulation are in bold). Problem identification occurred in sessions 1, 2, 3, & 5. Note that in almost all cases, formulations are realized as events between clauses, whereas reformulations realize clients’ formulations of events as nominalizations (i.e., within a single clause). The only exceptions are disagreement in session 2 and making sure that everyone else is: uh is okay in session 3. In each of these cases, clients have grammatically constructed their behaviour as an entity and not as a process. Nominalizing clients’ congruent formulations of events alters their experiential meaning. In this way, what clients have said can be made an Agent of negative behaviour. Interpersonally, nominalizing clients’ formulations decreases their negotiability. Placing the contents of a clause within a nominal group makes it more difficult for the clients to challenge those contents. Nominalization, therefore, enables the counsellor to persuade clients that the counsellor’s reconstrual of clients’ experiential and social reality is correct. Before turning to the lexicogrammatical and discourse semantic resources used in Problem Identification, three points about problems should be mentioned. First, the counsellor adheres closely to clients’ formulations; that is, although counsellors reformulate clients’ talk, counsellors do not introduce technical terms – as perhaps a psychoanalyst would – to define clients’ talk. Second, reformulations of clients’ talk are realized in realis. Examples of realis are “pleasing others”, “doing it right”, “end up doing it wrong”, “making sure that everyone else is: uh is okay”, “letting him down”, “feeling badly” and “you being wrong”. Realis refers to present as opposed to future, something that is ongoing as opposed to starting off, action as opposed to intention and reality as opposed to appearance (Halliday 1994: 278). In other words, the counsellor’s reformulations construe problems as present client behaviour. As we shall see in the next chapter, this constrasts with problem effacement in which client behaviour is realized in irrealis. Finally, nominalized client formulations are not necessarily referred to as ‘problems’ by counsellors or clients – in most cases, however, they are; that is, to be a ‘problem’, client behaviour does not have to be

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Table 6.1 Comparison between clients’ formulation and counsellor’s reformulation Session 1 Client Formulation

Counsellor Reformulation

Fred is a: uh he likes to lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject that he feels even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t

your experience Wendy Sue .hh is of uh living with a man who has a lecturing style

I suppose I get irritated because she won’t play the game

.hh so what is it that’s putting these ideas in your head .hh is it irritation

or whether she’s telling me what she thinks I wanna hea::r cause she’s trying tuh please me

Fred brought up the issue of [[pleasing others]] as a concern to him

Session 2 Client

Counsellor

I get momentarily organized right okay .hh we should do this right we should not leaving any (0.7) loose ends untied

let’s go with the whole notion of [[doing it right]]

I think her tendency is .hh has always been .hh that if any sort’ve disagreement (1.8) tuh cut it off

okay so we’ll say that Wendy Sue gets uncomfortable with u::h uh disagreement

I have different tastes .hh u::m (1.8) an would would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong (1.0) uh according to what one should do.

have you always had this idea that [[if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong]]

yeah well] its its .hh (1.0) why do anything if its going to be wrong. I’d rather do nothing (2.0) tha:n (.) screw it up

do you live by that maxim

its that u:::m that I might (1.5) I might do something an have not dotted an I or crossed a tee

s:o i- it buys into this s: same idea again that [[uh .hh evr- all the tees hafta be crossed the I’s hafta be dotted]]

because every time we come to:: .hh a situation where there is a decision to be ma:de we end up (.) in a uh (1.0) in an unpleasant situa- i unpleasant situation

or or is this a marriage taken by indecisiveness

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Table 6.1 (continued) Session 3 Client

Counsellor

a:nd uh then (0.8) I begin to fee:l like I’m letting him down (1.0) cause I’m not enthusiastic about it

okay su so so you started talking bout um (.) um this [[letting him down]].

I I’m just very afrai:d .hh of the traffic and driving

uh huh uh huh so wha what on the sufrace seems like a good idea once its giving over tuh fear takes on a different kinda picture

an I say uh no (2.5) an genuinely . . . [an genuinely] mean it

does this equate to the notion that [[if I:: (1.0) if I:: speak my own mind]]

he will do it anyway (1.0) without me (.) and he’ll find some other lady that he likes better than me

does this equate to the notion that [[if I:: (1.0) if I:: speak my own mind . . . o::r disagree . . . that somehow or other I’m going to be left behind]]

um (2.2) I think that making other people may not be the correct term but .hh [[making sure that everyone else is: uh is okay]] (.) y’know

so so part’ve your role is [[tuh make sure everybody’s okay]]

I feel (.) badly. . . . when when I say that I I don’t wanna go.

uh ah does this ma- does this uh [[feeling badly]] .hh make you think in some way that you’re bad

Session 5 Client

Counsellor

when I say it wro::ng (.) I say it incorrectly .hh an I feel badly about it

so you’re really angry with this notion of [[you being wrong]]

but you’re you hardly ever come out tuh fight. (.) ya just go in there just go in that hole n sulk

or would you say its more there’s more of a (.) i its more like a adopting a victim kind’ve role.

identified as such. Nominalizations acquire full-fledged problem status when they participate in causal relationships.

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.. Setting if off: Extreme case formulating In this section I show that clients’ formulations can be recipient designed for C in order to implicate or ensure a certain kind of orientation by C. The concept of recipient design was taken up by Sacks (1992[1970]: 229–230) to account for certain kinds of turn shapes. For instance a request for information – what Sacks calls a request format – that prefaces a story beginning with “Say did you see anything in the paper last night or hear anything in the local radio” is designed for a community member; someone who reads the same newspapers and who can tune in to the same radio stations. Such a preface would not make sense if directed to someone in a different city or country. The point here is that turns may be so designed to account for and make explicit certain things about the recipient. In this case, it was community membership. Recipient design is also relevant for the activity that the interactants are engaged in. In terms of couples counselling, clients are expected to formulate problems or, put differently, to describe their own and other’s behaviour in terms that are relevant for couples counselling. When describing own or other’s behaviour, clients are faced with the task of accounting for the relevance of their descriptions. This relevance is, minimally, two-fold. First, descriptions of other may be challenged by other and so should be formulated in ways that will be ratified by other. Second, the descriptions must be formulated as suitable or relevant for counselling, since if it is not relevant, the formulation may be challenged by C. One way in which speakers may emphasize the relevance of their descriptions is through what Pomerantz (1986) refers to as extreme case formulations (hereafter ECFs). Some examples of ECFs listed by Pomerantz (1986: 219) include “brand new”, “completely innocent”, “he was driving perfectly”, “he didn’t say a word”, “forever” and “every time”. Pomerantz (1986: 219–220) also claims that ECFs perform the following discursive work: 1. to defend against or to counter challenges to the legitimacy of complaints, accusations, justifications, and defenses; 2. to propose a phenomenon is ‘in the object’ or objective rather than a product of the interaction or the circumstances; 3. to propose that some behaviour is not wrong, or is right, by virtue of its status as frequently occurring or commonly done. The kinds of meanings that Pomerantz has identified may occur along a scale that ranges between high or low. We know from research in SFL that interpersonal meanings may often be scaled in this manner. One example is modality; probability, usuality, obligation, inclination and ability may be realized within

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a modal space of positive and negative. Halliday (1994: 82–83) has also identified other scalable interpersonal meanings such as typicality (occasionally, generally, regularly, mainly), obviousness (of course, surely, obviously), intensity (just, simply, merely, only) and degree (quite, almost, totally, utterly). Clients’ ECFs tend to realize the high end-point within the modal space of usuality. At the high-end self or other’s behaviour is claimed to always occur, whereas at the low-end the behaviour never occurs. These clients in narrative counselling, therefore, tended to construct own or other’s behaviour in terms of these modal nodes of always or never. Making claims about how often or seldom someone does something, does not merely have statistical relevance. Rather, such claims most centrally involve positive or negative judgements about behaviour; in fact, frequency of behaviour is often aligned with questions of ‘normality’, or how unusual someone is (see Martin 1997, 2000). Such judgements are appraisal resources that construct the degree to which someone’s behaviour may be considered special or problematic. From an extensive examination of media texts, Iedema, Feez and White (1994: 209) have argued that: The subgrouping of Judgemental meanings which we include under the heading of ‘Fate’ involves words such as ‘extraordinary’, ‘unexpected’, ‘normal’, ‘lucky’, ‘average’, ‘consistent’, ‘peculiar’, ‘odd’, ‘dated’, ‘unconventional’ etc. The Modality principle which we can associate with this Judgement category is the one of ‘usuality’/‘unusuality. To assess an event, action or state of affairs as ‘extraordinary’, ‘peculiar’, ‘odd’, ‘normal’ or, ‘average’ is to classify it against a set of expectations of what is usual or unusual.

In counselling especially, claims about the usuality of behaviour will certainly realize judgements about that behaviour. If made in an ‘extreme’ way – that is, amplified by high-value modality or intensifiers or markers of degree – these will be heard as positive or negative appraisals. We can, therefore, add another function of ECFs to Pomerantz’ list; to appraise some behaviour as highly usual and, in most cases, problematic. Since usuality is an interpersonal resource, we should not be surprised to find them prosodically realized (i.e., spread over) in various part of a clause (or clauses). An example in which the client spreads judgements of normality throughout her formulation is shown in Ex. (6:2). Here, W makes use of numeratives (e.g., few, zillion) and relators (e.g., or) to construct F’s behaviour as extreme. The discussion involves F’s inability to make a decision and F’s tendency to always consult W before deciding.

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(6:2) (AO8P2)

→ → → → → → → → → → → →

01 W: yes an (1.2) I guess 02 for the past few years particularly since Fred is was 03 unemploy::ed .hh um 04 I have uh kind’ve relied on him 05 to make a lot’ve decisions .hh 06 y’know where we go what we do (kinda thing) .hh 07 in some cases we would discuss them 08 but when he:: .hh he he comes at me 09 an say 10 can I ask you a few quest(hh)ions 11 and he’s got .hh a zillion pieces of paper in his hand .hh uh 12 or we could do this here 13 or wh- if we wanted to drive tuh there 14 we could do that .hh 15 or if we wanted tuh go here 16 or if wanted tuh go there 17 we could do all of these things 18 but .hh I need some help 19 well then I I jus almost tune out now 20 C: .hh so he’s taken his uh his job about um deciding things 21 for you: to uh an extreme level 22 he’s really .hh he’s really tri:ed to um .hh uh to take it to the 23 enth degree 24 he’s being very conscientious 25 about this new [job ] he’s taken on [.hh ] 26 W: [yes ] [yes]

Interpersonal resources that construe an ECF are generally realized within the story genre recount (see Chapter 3). In this genre, the Record stage is generally realized by an activity sequence, and it is usually here that a high concentration of appraisals are found. W’s recount may be divided up as follows: Orientation yes an (1.2) I guess for the past few years particularly since Fred is was unemploy::ed .hh um I have uh kind’ve relied on him to make a lot’ve decisions .hh y’know where we go what we do (kinda thing) .hh in some cases we would discuss them

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Record

but when he:: .hh he he comes at me an say can I ask you a few quest(hh)ions and he’s got .hh a zillion pieces of paper in his hand .hh uh or we could do this here or wh- if we wanted to drive tuh there we could do that .hh or if we wanted tuh go here or if wanted tuh go there we could do all of these things but .hh I need some help well then I I jus almost tune out now

W’s appraisals of F’s behaviour begins on line 10 in the Record stage and proceeds until line 19. First, W contrasts F’s asking “a few quest(hh)ions” with F having “a zillion pieces of paper in his hand.” So, what is being juxtaposed is the numerative pair few-zillion. Further, F’s social action of questioning does not coincide with F’s material resources; if F wants to only ask a few questions, why does he have “a zillion pieces of paper in his hand”? Zillion is extreme in that it over-emphasizes the amount of paper that F comes at W with. Next, W makes use of paratactic extension (i.e., variation through or) and hypotactic enhancement (i.e., if-then conditional) to highlight the number of options that F gives W. 1 =2 x β α =3 x β =4 x β α

or we could do this here or wh- if we wanted to drive tuh there we could do that .hh or if we wanted tuh go here or if wanted tuh go there we could do all of these things

W’s repeated use of or and if-then clause complex constructions formulates F’s behaviour as extreme, because he is being described as generating an exorbitant number of options. Interpersonally, the degree of usuality or magnitude of F’s behaviour is taken to a high level. Construing F’s behaviour as ‘beyond normal’ through various lexicogrammatical constructions within the Record stage is important because it provides the necessary relevance for responding to W’s descriptions. C’s reformulation picks up on W’s extreme case descriptions of F in the following way; he uses locative circumstances (i.e., to uh an extreme level and to the enth degree) to

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reformulate F’s behaviour as extreme. In the first case, he uses an epithet (i.e., extreme) to describe the level to which F takes things and in the second case, he uses a numerative (i.e., enth) to quantify the degree. In both cases, F’s behaviour is described in terms of an upper limit. Another more complicated example of an ECF is shown in Ex. (6:3) lines 07–18. Here, W formulates F’s behaviour in terms of his highly frequent lecturing. The extremeness of F’s lecturing is realized by such expressions as lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject, go on and on and on and on about it and he has done that all uh all my my years with him. In the subsequent turn, C orients to W’s ECFs by reformulating the extreme case contents. (6:3) (A08P1) 01 W: .hh hhh well I think 02 that uh (2.0) Fred just gives up now hh heh .hh 03 I think 04 that secretly he still wants to win the argument .hh 05 he wants to prolo::ng 06 Fred is a: uh 07 he likes to lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject that 08 he feels even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t 09 he likes to lecture 10 and and go on and on and on and on about it .hh 11 and I- there wuz one this morning or yesterday 12 or something 13 that .hh that I thought 14 well its deci:ded 15 but Fred still had to:: .hh really make sure 16 that I knew .hh what wuz going on uh 17 that that uh he had he had pressed his point 18 [he has ] done that all uh all my my years with him 19 C: [what I’m ] 20 C: .hh what I’m starting tuh see here is a pattern uh um .hh 21 as a couples therapist um I’m always looking 22 for patterns? 23 .hh that people get into that they get stuck in .hh 24 and I’m I need your agreement 25 as tuh whether or not what we’re seeing here is 26 this particular pattern 27 .hh umm which is leading tuh the kinda communication 28 that (both) you’re talking about .hh

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29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

your experience Wendy Sue .hh is of uh living with a man who has a lecturing style W: yes C: who talks to you consexcuse me if I I’m relating back in her ways .hh ahh who who lectures you constantly .hh who goes on about things bove and beyond the point of being [resolved ] when they’re already resolved W: [yes ] W: yes

As in (6:2), W provides a recount in which she negatively appraises F’s behaviour. In the Orientation, W makes the claim that F likes to lecture. This stage is marked by present tense constructions that realize F’s behaviour as occurring in the here-and-now (I think, he wants, Fried is, he likes). The Record stage, in turn, is realized by a series of activity sequences – realized in the past tense (there wuz, I thought, Fred still had to) – that provide an example of F’s frequent lecturing. The Coda concludes the recount by providing a summary statement. The stages of W’s recount are shown below: Orientation .hh hhh well I think that uh (2.0) Fred just gives up now hh heh .hh I think that secretly he still wants to win the argument .hh he wants to prolo::ng Fred is a: uh he likes to lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject [[that he feels even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t]] he likes to lecture and and go on and on and on and on about it .hh Record and I- there wuz one this morning or yesterday or something that .hh that I thought well its deci:ded but Fred still had to:: .hh really make sure that I knew .hh what wuz going on uh that that uh he had he had pressed his point Coda [he has ] done that all uh all my my years with him

I would emphasize that W’s story genre does not only account for what happened; it also makes an argument that corroborates her negative judgement of F as liking to lecture. In this way, the Record seems also to be functioning as an

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Problem construction

Argument that supports her Thesis (realized in the Orientation) that F “likes to lecture”. However, since the genre mainly focusses on present and past events, I would suggest that this genre is primarily a recount that shares features with the exposition genre. W’s genre, therefore, serves two purposes at once. It both provides a record of events in which F’s behaviour is negatively judged, and it accounts for her judgement of F’s negative behaviour. In analyzing this example, I examine the ECFs realized within W’s recount. To do so, W’s talk from lines 6–18 is segmented into various functions, beginning with a potential attribution in line 6. ((potential attribution)) 06 W: Fred is a: uh

Here, W begins her turn by using an attributive relational clause to attribute F with something. However, W does not complete this clause and, in the next line, she utters an ECF that emphasizes F’s frequent lecturing instead. ((extreme case formulation)) 07 he likes to lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject 08 that he feels even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t

Three aspects of the grammar contribute to W’s ECF, all of which play a role in construing highly graded modalization, or usuality. The first is desideration (likes to lecture). This implies a tendency, because it can be assumed that if someone likes to do something, they will do it with some frequency. The second is repetition of a non-specific deictic (any: any subject) within a matter circumstance, which reinforces the ubiquity of F’s lecturing; that is, it is not just certain or a few subjects that F lectures on, it is any subject. The third is the choice of adverbial group (even mildly). Here W uses a Postqualifier to identify the kind of subjects F lectures on. Claiming that feeling even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t a subject is a sufficient condition for lecturing corroborates the picture being painted of F as a ubiquitous lecturer. Further extreme case formulating is found in the next two clauses. ((extreme case formulation)) 09 he likes to lecture 10 and and go on and on and on and on about it .hh

Through paratactic expansion, W repeats part of line 8 (i.e., he likes to lecture) and extends it. The extended clause involves multiple repetition of the verbal group (go on and on and on and on). Repeating the verbal group in this way

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reinforces W’s argument that F is an incessant lecturer by adding a temporal dimension. F does not merely go on about things, he goes on and on and on and on about it. By repeating on four times, we get a sense of the persistence and duration of F’s lecturing. In the next six lines, W buttresses her claim that F is a frequent lecturer by providing an example of this behaviour.

11 12 13 14 15 16 17

((provides an example)) and I- there wuz one this morning or yesterday or something that .hh that I thought well its deci:ded but Fred still had to:: .hh really make sure that I knew .hh what wuz going on uh that that uh he had he had pressed his point

W begins her example in line 11 with an existential clause in which the pronoun one refers to F’s lecturing. Following this, W sets up a contrast between W’s construal of an event (i.e., I thought well its deci:ded) and F’s intention (i.e., but Fred still had to:: .hh really make sure); that is, through the use of the process make sure, W aligns F with an intention. W sets up this contrast with the contrastive conjunction but. What is being contrasted is W’s thinking that a discussion is deci:ded and F’s thinking, through his intention, it is not. Further, W constructs F’s intending as directed towards both W and F. F has to make sure that W knew .hh what wuz going on and that F had pressed his point. In other words, F’s lecturing is not only a means to get W to understand, but is also an activity that F must perform in an exaggerated way – Amplifications (really make sure) and metaphor (pressed his point) are used for the latter activity. A further and final ECF is used in the last clause. ((extreme case formulation)) 18 [he has] done that all uh all my my years with him

To this point in the example, ECFs have been used to amplify what F lectures on (i.e., any: any subject and even mildly), the tendency and duration of F’s lecturing (i.e., he likes to lecture? and go on and on and on and on) and the way F lectures (i.e., pressed his point). The final way in which W uses ECFs is through a temporal circumstance (all my my years with him). This also expresses the duration of F’s lecturing; the difference, however, is that the former expresses duration in terms of the length of time F lectures on a given occasion, while the latter expresses duration in terms of W having known F. Lecturing,

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therefore, is not only a lengthy process once it gets started; it is something W has had to endure for many years. W’s ECFs that construe high usuality are summarized below: Instances of High Usuality

Realized in

he likes to lecture? (1.2)

verbal group (desideration)

on any: any subject

repetition non-specific deictic (degree)

[[that he feels even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t]]

adverbial group (intensity)

he likes to lecture

verbal group (desideration)

and and go on and on and on and on repetition of verbal group (degree) about it .hh [he has] done that all uh all my my years with him

temporal circumstance (degree)

There are two reasons why I have belaboured the point that high usuality is prosodically realized throughout W’s formulation. The first is to counter work in conversation analysis that attempts to avoid making a natural link between ‘extreme case’ semantics and grammatical realization (for example see Edwards 2000). In client formulations, extreme case semantics involved judgements of normality and was realized by interpersonal resources of (high degree or intensity of) usuality. Since interpersonal meaning is not realized by constituent structure but by prosodic structure, we would not expect usuality to be realized within a single clausal constituent. Rather, as I have shown in (6:3), usuality is spread over verbal, nominal and adverbial groups and prepositional phrases. However, the observation that usuality is construed within various parts of clause grammar is not an argument for viewing grammar and semantics as arbitrarily or indexically related. The observation, rather, points to the prosodic nature of interpersonal meaning. The second reason is because these ECFs set the stage for a specific kind of uptake; they sequentially implicate a response. Given that these formulations occur in a couples counselling session, one might expect that extreme case descriptions of F’s lecturing are oriented to. One way of relevantly orienting to these ECFs is to treat them as suitable for problems talk; that is, to identify lecturing as being a problem and to treat lecturing as having consequences for the relationship. Recall that a central aim in narrative therapy is to unpack clients’ negative identity conclusions. As M. White (1995: 22–23) argues, “Interacting around the idea that problems are inherent

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to certain relationships, or intrinsic to persons’ lives, generally reinforces these truths and perpetuates that which persons experience as problematic.” Since W’s ECFs construe F’s lecturing as highly frequent, it is possible that W (and F) also construe lecturing as an inherent and stable part of F. Therefore, in order to pursue the goals of narrative therapy, C should, at this point, attempt to deconstruct W’s construals, so that lecturing may no longer be inherently associated with F. In line 19 onwards, C responds to W’s ECFs in exactly that way. C claims to have identified a pattern and to have identified W’s experience as living with a man who has a lecturing style. In other words, W’s recount has instigated Problem Identification, the first stage of problem construction. Problem Identification through C’s reformulation of W’s formulation is examined in the next section. .. Reformulation It was shown in the previous section that appraising someone’s behaviour as highly frequent may suggest that the behaviour is ‘beyond the bounds of normal’, and is therefore negative or problematic. In particular, these negative judgements may construct the other as possessing unalterable stable attributes. As a consequence, people may begin to view themselves as the problem of the relationship. Clients who believe this may become ‘powerless’ to change anything about themselves or their relationship because, as M. White (1995: 23) puts it, “If you are the problem, or if your relationship is the problem, then there’s not much that you can do – except maybe to act against yourself.” To challenge these assumptions, M. White encourages counsellors to facilitate externalizing conversations, in order to “make it possible for persons to experience an identity that is distinct or separate from the problem” (M. White 1995: 23). How are externalizing conversations accomplished? How is it that clients achieve separation from the problem? The first step in the externalizing process involves reformulating clients’ negative identity claims. Reformulations are a constitutive part of the narrative change process, because they elaborate on, or rework, clients’ original meanings. Additionally, reformulations set the narrative counselling interview macro-genre in motion by initiating Problem Identification, the first stage in problem construction. The preferred Process type used to reformulate is the identifying relational clause. These Processes are especially suited for this stage in problem construction, because one of their main functions is to downrank clauses that contain negative identity claims

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Problem construction 

into Participants. In this way, attributes such as lecturing, since they have been nominalized as ‘things’, may be construed as being separate from the client. It should be emphasized again that the type of counselling that I have examined is not about classifying or taxonomizing clients’ experiences. Research by Ravotas and Berkenkotter (1998), by contrast, illustrated how psychotherapy1 makes extensive use of technicality. They examined how a therapist’s initial written assessment of a client reformulates or, as they put it, ‘recontextualizes’ the therapist’s notes taken during the session. One of Ravotas and Berkenkotter’s claims is that the therapist recontextualized the client’s ‘everyday’ descriptions of her problem into a psychotherapeutic diagnosis of mental disorder. Recontextualizations, then, align clients’ talk with a specialized psychotherapeutic vocabulary that identifies mental disorders. In this way, client’s formulations of her experiences become associated with technical terms such as hypervigilance, dissociation and dysfunctional. In a different study, Davis (1986) argued that therapists transform clients’ versions of events into a problem suitable for psychotherapy. Davis observed that therapist reformulations individualize clients’ problems by taking problems out of their social context (i.e., relationships with family, spouse, children, colleagues) and placing them within the individual (i.e., as personal shortcomings). Although it may be the case that certain counsellors/therapists from certain psychotherapeutic traditions tend to align clients’ problems with technical psychotherapeutic vocabularies, this tendency was not observed in narrative counselling. This counsellor, in other words, did not introduce technical terms, but rather reformulated using clients’ own terms. This does not mean that clients’ original meanings did not change subsequent to reformulation. Even though the counsellor maintained a cohesive link to clients’ formulations, the counsellor nonetheless, by reformulating, transformed clients’ meanings. Reformulations create different grammatical constructs, and so they resemanticize what has been previously articulated. It was shown in Chapter 5 that counsellor reformulations tend to nominalize client’s congruent formulations of events. Experientially, nominalizations reconstrue client meanings by treating them as things (i.e., Participants) within a clause, rather than as a whole clause or series of clauses. In this way, client formulations may be related, via Token-Value relationships, to other meanings such as their experience or role. Interpersonally, nominalizations are more difficult to negotiate. Once meanings have been packed into nominal groups, more discursive work is needed to unpack them. Therefore, nominalizations are resources of persuasion for getting clients to accept the reformulated version of clients’ experiential and social reality. And textually, nominalizations enable

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the counsellor to highlight client events as either thematic or as new information. In this way, counsellors can texture their turns by, for instance, making ‘the problem’ a recurring Theme. Two reformulating clause types were used in Problem Identification: behavioural and identifying relational clauses.2 The former, behavioural clauses, were less frequently used (i.e., only twice) and were deployed only in cases where identification occurred later in counselling. By ‘later’ I mean not immediately subsequent to client’s formulation. Reformulation with this clause either occurred some minutes later in the session or even in a subsequent session. ... Behavioural clause In Ex. (6:4) W feels as if she is letting F down, when she is not enthusiastic about accompanying F when he wants to do something. C does not, in the subsequent turn, identify W’s formulation as a problem. Instead, C does this much later in the conversation, when he refers back to what W had talked about (i.e., okay su so so you started talking bout um (.) um this letting him down.). Using the behavioural clause in this way allows C to nominalize W’s prior formulation by placing it within a matter Circumstance (i.e., about). The behavioural clause, therefore, does not report or quote W’s prior formulation as a verbal or mental clause would. Instead, what W said, I begin to fee:l like I’m letting him down, becomes the new information of C’s reformulation, this letting him down. In sum, W’s formulation is moved to a different level of abstraction (X = formulation): W feels X [clause] → W talked about X [nominalization]. (6:4) (A08P3) 01 W: I started 02 but then I I just I’ve I’ve lost my uh .hh uh 03 I’m not sure exactly 04 what or how I c’n how I c’n put it dow::n with .hh (0.8) 05 and Fred is tentative in approaching me with anything 06 y’know he’s he’s got this 07 an he’s .hh he’s i looked at it fo:r twenty five minutes 08 half hour .hh 09 an he thinks 10 okay this would be really goo:d 11 an then he’ll come to me::: 12 an sa:y 13 um uh .hh have yuh thought about 14 what zuh wanna do:: tomorrow or or the next da::y

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15 16 17 C: 18 → 19 W: → 20 21 22 23 24 C:

an I will say oh god (.) I can’t think that far ahead awright (0.8) a:nd uh then (0.8) I begin to fee:l like I’m letting him down (1.0) cause I’m not enthusiasic about it an I: uh I don’t wanna go out anyway (.) I don’t wanna (1.0) yeah= =mhm . . . → 71 C: okay su so so you started talking bout → 72 um (.) um this letting him down. (.) 73 yeah. now you don’t know for sur:e 74 if you’re letting him down? [u::m] 75 W: [no ] 76 C: you’re just this is what’s goin on in your head= 77 W: =yes 78 C: u::m what’s the history of this idea of letting him down 79 (2.0) does this go back [a long way] 80 W: [it goes] back quite a long way yeah

... Identifying relational clause When reformulating, counsellors use identifying relational clauses to perform a variety of actions. First, relational clauses are used to elaborate, or clarify, client meanings. In this way, counsellors are able to relate what clients are saying to other meanings. For example, incessant lecturing may be identified as a role, a desire, a need or a problem. Constructing such relationships allows both clients and counsellor to interpret ECFs of behaviour in different ways. Second, since identifying relational clauses involve relating two Participants, these clauses allow the counsellor to transform client’s ECF into a Participant, or ‘thing’. These nominalizations, in turn, enable an externalization of the problem, because the negatively appraised behaviour has achieved full-fledged Participant status. As a consequence, it becomes more difficult for clients to make associatiations between the problem behaviour and their identity. A reformulating identifying relational clause is shown in Ex. (6:5). In lines 4, 5 and 8, W claims that she somehow feels compelled to make .hh sure that

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everyone else is always happy and to make a make everybody else feel goo::d. By stating this, W casts these specific behaviours as being highly typical, since they are directed to virtually everyone (i.e., everyone else, always happy). W’s use of modality seems to invoke judgements of normality; that is, should one try to make everyone feel always happy or good? C responds in line 25 by identifying making other people happy (Token) with function or job (Value), which reformulates W’s ECFs into a Participant. In the subsequent turn, W repairs C’s reformulation by suggesting a different Token: making sure that everyone else is: uh is okay. C’s final reformulation occurs in line 32 in which he identifies W’s repair in terms of a role. part’ve your role is tuh make sure everybody’s okay Value Token

The relational clause allows C to make these associations between W’s behaviour and W’s roles, functions and jobs. In this way, C is able to explore what W’s behaviours might mean, not in terms of her identity, but in terms of social roles and responsibilities. This line of pursuit is continued in line 33, where C identifies what he has just reformulated with a previously identified problem: letting others down. which (so so part’ve your role is means that they’re not being let down tuh make sure everybody’s okay) Token Value

What a behaviour represents, means or exemplifies is best taken up with a relational clause. It allows the counsellor to rework the meaning of a behaviour with the client. In addition, and perhaps most importantly, it externalizes the problem by transforming it into a Participant. Notice that the grammar has moved from “I make sure that everyone else . . . ” to “part’ve your role is . . . ”. Here the counsellor has begun to sever the link between “I” and the negatively appraised behaviour. (6:5) (A08P3) 01 W: =( ) make a fuss (0.8) 02 he sort’ve makes a fuss (1.2) 03 I:: um (2.5) I guess uh i I guess → 04 I don’t kno::w:: (1.0) any other way → 05 than to make .hh sure that everyone else is always happy 06 (1.0) like (.)

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Problem construction 

07 → 08 → 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 → 25 → 26 27 28 → 29 → 30 31 → 32 33 34

C: [uh huh is is ] W: [to to ] make to make a make everybody else feel goo::d y’know like .hh do nice things fer other people (0.8) .hh and that doesn’t mean going out or anything its just .hh trying to (.) mediate an make an make everything good an an if there’s something going on .hh um (0.8) u ah y’know when I say er y are you having a good ti:::me .hh I really take tuh heart what they sa::y .hh y’know like u they say well no I’m not .hh then I’ll try an do something to make them have a good time with me= C: =uh huh i is that a job that you relish W: ah(hhhh) I used to (0.8) C: mhm did you see it as part of your function your job to actually make other people happy? (1.5) W: um (2.2) I think that making other people may not be the correct term but .hh making sure that everyone else is: uh is okay (.) y’know C: so so part’ve your role is tuh make sure everybody’s okay which means that they’re not being let down W: yeah (3.0) I don’t know how tuh explain that=

So far, it has been shown how, in Problem Identification, ECFs are identified in terms of roles, jobs, experiences or other events. In addition, ECFs can simply be identified as ‘a problem’. In Ex. (6:6) W negatively appraises F’s tendency of over-generating the number of options that he presents to W (e.g., he:: has all of these things in a circle and he presents these twelve things to me::) and the amount of information that W has to process (e.g., he’s got all the papers from from the states . . . an from ((name of city)) an [from] everywhere). In line 29 C reformulates this ECF as doing it right and, through a relational clause, identifies F’s behaviour as a problem.

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this this [[doing it right]] is a problem for him Token Value

The main function of the relational clause, therefore, is to identify what doing it right means (i.e., a problem for F) and not to classify it as a problem. To a degree, implicit problem taxonomies are being created since a number of nominalized events are identified as problems. It could, therefore, be argued that ‘problem’ is the superordinate term for events such as doing it right, lecturing style, pleasing others, indecisiveness, etc. Nonetheless, problem construction does not involve taxonomizing in the sense that types of events are identified so that they can be grouped under ‘problem’. Instead, I see Problem Identification as being about reworking client’s negative appraisals of behaviour. Certain behaviours such as doing it right and indecisiveness exemplify instances in which events act as troublesome Agents in the lives of clients. The counsellor’s role is to identify these examples of troublesome behaviours. (6:6) (A08P2) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

W: heh heh .hh [but ] but Fred seems to want he wantC: [yeah ] W: he:: has all of these things in a circle .hh let’s take a we have a- a clock .hh there are twelve thi:ngs .hh and he presents these twelve things to me::= C: =uh huh W: .hh an he tells me: that he doesn’t care I I really have no strong feeling about any of one of those C: =uh huh= W: =.hh what would you like to do (1.2) .hh so I look at them an an I think well I (don’t really know) I couldn’t do that oh I don’t wanna do that on I don’t wanna .hh (1.0) I don’t wanna do anything (1.0) .hh so then he:: gets very frustrated because .hh he’s done all this research [he’s he’s .hh ] he’s got all the papers from from the states C: [mhm mhm ] W: an from ((name of city)) an [from ] everywhere

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24 25 26 27 28 → 29 30 31 32 → 33 34 35

C: [mhm ] C: mhm W: an I look at them an I say why don’t you just decided what we do= C: =so it could be that this this doing it right [right ] W: [uh huh ] C: which he takes on very conscientiously obviously W: yes C: .hh uh:: is a problem for him (1.0) W: it could be a problem=

In addition to being elaborated at clause rank through a relational clause, problems are elaborated at nominal group rank (i.e., within a nominal group). These kinds of elaborations also function to identify the problem that is being talked about. In Ex. (6:7), C uses group rank elaboration to identify the problem as if I had it down he’s gonna leave me or I’m letting him down. (6:7) (A08P3) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13

C:

u::h so you think that in somehow maybe u:::m .hh u::m you’re being lied to (4.0) something some the:: you’re not the full:: the full:: u::m the full deal here (.) W: they’re being nice C: no (you’ll have just) the problem I’m letting you uh I if I had it down he’s gonna leave me is lying tuh you (1.0) W: the problem’s lied to me (.) C: i i I mean its lying tuh you right? W: yeah . . . 22 C: =even if its not lying tuh you 23 even if it (fits you well) 24 it wouldn’t work this weight .hh 25 if it wuz tuh t’have you weld (.) u::::h

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26 27 28

if I let im down he’s still going to sta::y (.) then the the problem I’m letting him down would have no i-would have no power or influence over you (.)

the problem I’m letting you uh I if I had it down he’s gonna leave me the the problem I’m letting him down Value Token

In sum, counsellor reformulations are most often realized by identifying relational clauses and involve abstraction in which clients’ ECFs (often realizing high usuality) are nominalized. Experientially, reformulations reconstrue clients’ representations of their experiential world. In this way, reformulations function interpersonally by construing the counsellor as the expert who may offer the most relevant version of clients’ experiential reality. In addition, nominalizations function interpersonally by decreasing an event’s negotiability. Once client behaviours become nominalized as letting him down, tuh make sure everybody’s okay, doing it right, the problem, etc., they become more difficult to challenge. One piece of evidence that supports the claim that C’s reformulations are less negotiable and therefore persuasive, is that the reformulations tend to implicate agreements rather than disagreements. Agreement from clients may be seen in (6:5) line 34, (6:6) line 35 and (6:7) lines 10 and 13. Furthermore, low negotiability is achieved by realis constructions such as “letting him down”. Notice that in these constructions, the Mood, and therefore the Subject, has been deleted. Letting someone down becomes Agent-less and, for this reason, is construed as a generalized action that is devoid of a social actor. These nominalizations have a way of making events appear to be outside of human agency and, as will be shown in stage 2, this interpretation fits nicely with counsellor’s reconstrual of the problem as an Agent. One could argue that, since negatively appraised formulations are no longer associated with the client (i.e., they have become separated from the client), the dialogic quality of the exchange has been contracted. On the other hand, however, an additional voice, the problem, has been introduced via reformulation. In this way, the constellation of voices that relate to the clients’ lives and relationships has been expanded, thereby increasing heteroglossia. ... Nominal group Up to this point it has been argued that client formulations become nominalized as problems through counsellor reformulations. What has not been shown is where in the nominal group problems ultimately become realized.

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Problem construction 

Problems tend to be realized in either one of two positions of the nominal group, the head or the postmodifer and, it will be argued, these positions further decrease the negotiability of counsellor’s reformulations. Nominalized Processes, as in examples (6:8) and (6:9), tend to be realized as the Head of a nominal group (nominalization are highlighted in bold). (6:8) C: .hh so what is it that’s putting these ideas in your head .hh is it irritation (6:9) C: does fear have a lot tuh do with the way in each you relate to Fred

Nominalization of events may also be realized by generic nominals such as role, pattern and problem. (6:10) C:

or would you say its more there’s more of a (.) i its more like a adopting a victim kind’ve role. (1.5) W: I become the victim. C: uh huh. (.) right. usually the victim pattern is something that (holds)is something that’s consistent here= W: =mhm C: do does this (.) role of being a victim (.) u::m (.) does that kinda role that you you find that that’s one that’s: tailor made fer you (6:11) C:

yeah an what I’ll try tuh do is they won’t be as long next time I’ll try maybe to make it smaller and ask some questions the idea is to .hh to be able to open up space what we call therapeutic space. space for people to experience themselves .hh and the other person differently [.hh ] W: [mhm ] C: and that somehow or other we’re we’re withheld from doing that because of the problem (0.8)

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so in here the person isn’t the problem .hh the problem is the problem yeah?

Finally, nominalized events may appear in Head position as embedded clauses. Here, counsellor reformulations most closely resemble the experiential structure of clients’ original formulations. These nominalizations tend to be realized in realis non-finite tense (i.e., letting, feeling, doing). (6:12) C: okay su so so you started talking bout um (.) um this letting him down. (.) (6:13) C: uh ah does this madoes this uh feeling badly .hh make you think in some way that you’re bad (6:14) 29 30 31 32 33

C: W: C: W: C:

=so it could be that this this doing it right [right ] [uh huh ] which he takes on very conscientiously obviously yes .hh uh:: is a problem for him

Embedded client formulations also frequently appear in the Postmodifier position of a nominal group. In these constructions the Head of these nominal groups is either realized by nouns that denote ‘kind of ’ or ‘time of ’ such as issue, history or thing or ‘mental’ nominals such as notion or idea. The latter are not direct nominalizations of mental Processes because there is no Process-equivalent to notion or idea. Nonetheless, the semantics of both imply a type of cognitive process such as to think or to believe. Furthermore, the Postmodifiers of mental nominals represent embedded projections or ideas. The examples (6:15–20) below contain Postmodifiers (the Head is in bold and the Postmodifier in italics). (6:15) C: Fred brought up the issue of pleasing others as a concern to him. is there a relationship pattern here between pleasing others and the lu- lecturing style. does one invite the other

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(6:16) C: let’s go with that [let’s ] go with the whole notion of doing it right F: [yeah ] (6:17) it it does this equate to the notion that if I:: (1.0) if I:: speak my own mind W: mhm C: o::r disagree W: mhm C: that somehow or other I’m going to be left behind (6:18) C: =its its uh something about me that I’m wrong [so you’re ] really angry with F: [yeah ] C: this notion of you being wrong (6:19) C: [alright] s:o i- it buys into this s: same idea again that uh .hh evr- all the tees hafta be crossed the I’s hafta be dotted the the i hasta be done right .hh u:::m that if you gonna do:: (.) you rather do nothing than uh screw it up (6:20) C: u::m what’s the history of this idea of letting him down (2.0) does this go back [a long way]

Note also that many of the Postmodifiers are realized in realis non-finite tense. Examples are pleasing, doing, being and letting. Through realis, clients’ descriptions of events are reformulated as present, on-going behaviours. Realizing client formulations within Postmodifiers makes the negotiation of these nominalized formulations a complex matter. To illustrate, consider the history of this idea of letting him down from (6:20). One could, for instance, challenge C’s reformulations at a number of points such as there is no history

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of this idea or there is no idea of letting him down or I’m not letting him down. The embedded projection is perhaps most difficult to challenge, because it is so strongly tied to W’s own words; that is, W had on a previous occasion uttered I begin to fee:l like I’m letting him down. What W had not formulated, however, was that letting him down is an idea or that is has a history. At one level, what seems to be happening is that C, through the use of nominal semantics, is using W’s own words to build up a certain plausible view of W’s experiential world. By beginning with segments of W’s formulations such as letting him down or you being wrong, C is able to associate these problem identifications with other experiential meanings such as idea, notion, experience, issue, etc. In this way, C is able to build up a view of a separate and externalized problem that will most likely gain W’s acceptance. .. Reference chains of identified problems Reference is part of the discourse semantic system called identification. Reference relates to problems in the sense that, in narrative counselling, problems become identified through nominalization and, therefore, through their realization as Participants. Once problems become Participants, they can and are repeatedly referred to within and across sessions. In this way, problems can be kept track of as counselling unfolds. But, more importantly, the way in which problems are referenced tends to change over time. As I will show in the next two examples, reference plays an important role in externalizing the problem. An example of reference chains is presented in Ex. (6:21). In the first turn, F uses modalization (i.e., I’ve always felt) and a numerative (i.e., would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong) to judge his own behaviour in terms of high usuality. In the following turn, F’s formulation is picked up by C and embedded as the Postmodifier of Idea. (6:21) (AO8P2:8) 01 F: I seem to have a different decision making (0.8) pattern 02 than other people 03 or uh (0.8) I just don’t agree with a lot’ve people (1.0) 04 I don’t see do it .hh 05 I don’t seem to think th(hh)e (lathe) huh heh .hh 06 I’ve always I’ve always felt 07 that I kinda make (.) different decisions 08 or different choices → 09 I have different tastes .hh u::m (1.8)

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Problem construction 

→ → → →

10 an would would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong 11 (1.0) uh according to what one should do. 12 but I’m aware that there are better ways tuh do it 13 than I- the way I would do it naturally 14 (1.2) → 15 C: uh huh (4.5) .hh i- u::m have you always had this idea 16 that if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong 17 (3.5) 18 F: everything except talking I guess (2.2) 19 everything uh n- unless it involves (.8) talking or maybe:: 20 (1.2) reading alou:d 21 C: .hh you see how we22 there’s there’s s: a sort’ve pattern that’s taking place here 23 about your life.hh in terms of .hh uh you believe 24 that if you do it naturally 25 you’ll do it wrong 26 but you’ll really struggle 27 to do it right .hh 28 and u:m you’re able to put yourself in a situation of lots 29 of different people 30 which .hh I don’t know if it does 31 but can distract you 32 from .hh having confidence in your own ability 33 or maybe doesn’t get you to reflect upon 34 or gets you tuh .hh sort’ve um not pay attention tuh 35 this thing that if I do it wrong I’ll do it- if I do it 36 naturally I’ll do it wrong

C’s Reformulation begins in line 15. C uses a reformulation of being in which C positions F as possessing an idea and recycles F’s construal of high usuality (compare: “I’ve always I’ve always felt” with “have you always had this idea”). Further, F’s formulation is placed within the Postmodifier of idea (i.e., if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong). Comparing F’s formulation to C’s embedding, we get: F’s lines 10–13 1 an would would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong (1.0) uh according to what one should do x2 but I’m aware that there are better ways tuh do it than I- the way I would do it naturally

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 Chapter 6

C’s lines 15–16 (Possessed of possessive clause) this idea that if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong Premodifier Head Postmodifier (Deictic)

The first thing to note is that F’s formulation is realized by a concessive clause complex. In F’s first clause he uses an angle Circumstance (i.e., according to) to relate naturally doing a lot of things wrong to a certain perspective (i.e., what one should do). In the second clause, he then uses a comparative to claim that there are better ways than to do it naturally. C’s reformulation, by contrast, is a nominalization in which he has embedded F’s previous formulation into a Postmodifier. Moreover, C also casts F’s formulation in terms of an if-then conditional. Therefore, F’s formulation changes from being a comparison of or an angle on doing things wrong to a causal construction in which doing it wrong is the result of doing it naturally. Through nominalization, C is able to transform F’s description of an event that is realized by a clause complex into a Participant. C’s reformulation reappears in this form on two later occasions, which expands the reference chain: First in lines 24–25 and then in line 35. In the former, the if-then conditional is a projection of the verb believe. In the latter, the if-then conditional gets, once again, nominalized or embedded but with one important change; C no longer uses 2nd person you but first person I: “if I do it wrong I’ll do it- if I do it naturally I’ll do it wrong”. Here, C’s reformulation acquires the semblance of a quote and becomes reified as F’s formulation and not C’s. The reference chain for doing it wrong and for F is shown in Table 6.2. This gradual shift from you to I serves two purposes. First, C moves from addressing the client through you to taking on the client’s voice through I. What this does is reconstrue C’s reformulation as a quote of F’s formulation. One could, for instance, imagine F saying “if I do it naturally I’ll do it wrong.” But F did not actually use those same words. Thus, in a rather clever way, C is able to subtly rework his reformulations such that they, over a series of reference chains, take on a quoted nature and appear as if C was merely saying exactly what F had said some turns before. What it also does, somewhat paradoxically, is distance the locution from the client. By using first person I, the reference acquires ambiguity. Unlike you, which refers to F, I’s reference depends on the speaker. It could refer to F, but it could also refer to a general kind of behaviour that may influence Clients. One could say, for instance, “oh, you’re influenced by ‘if I do it naturally I’ll do it wrong’.” I would argue that C’s use of 1st per-

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Table 6.2 Clause status and grammatical realization for “doing it wrong” Clause Status for doing it wrong

Grammatical Realization

Clause Complex

an would would naturally do a lot of things (.) wrong (1.0) uh according to what one should do but I’m aware that there are better ways tuh do it than I- the way I would do it naturally

Embedded Clause

this idea [[that if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong]]

Projection

you believe that if you do it naturally you’ll do it wrong

Embedded Clause

this thing [[that if I do it wrong I’ll do it- if I do it naturally I’ll do it wrong]]

son pronouns provides the necessary groundwork for stage 2, by helping to construe problems as external to client behaviour. Another example of a reference chain that shows a tendency towards 1st person pronominalization is shown below. In this excerpt, taken from (6:4) above, W uses a mental Process of perception (to fee:l) to claim that she lets F down when she does not accompany him on an outing. Approximately 50 lines later, C reformulates the projection of the mental clause, W’s line 19, by embedding part of its contents in a matter Circumstance (i.e., bout um (.) um this letting him down). Here, W’s description of how she feels gets realized as a Participant. (6:22) (AO8P3) 18 W: a:nd uh then (0.8) I begin to fee:l → 19 like I’m letting him down (1.0) 20 cause I’m not enthusiasic about it 21 an I: uh I don’t wanna go out anyway (.) 22 I don’t wanna (1.0) yeah= 23 C: =mhm . . . → 71 C: okay su so so you started talking bout 72 um (.) um this letting him down. (.) 73 yeah. now you don’t know for sur:e

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74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86

if you’re letting him down? [u::m ] W: [no ] C: you’re goin on in your head= W: =yes C: u::m what’s the history of this idea of letting him down (2.0) does this go back [a long way ] W: [it goes ] back quite a long way yeah (7.5) C: .hh does w: this when you when you when you experience this idea that I’m letting him down= W: =yeah= C: =w::: what kinda feelings come with that you mentioned guilt

Interpersonally, what C has reformulated is the Residue: letting him down. In other words, C has elided the Mood of the clause. The Residue appears throughout C’s turn in different grammatical realizations. C adds on Mood in the third and last instances; that is, letting him down begins Mood-less, then acquires Mood through the 2nd person pronoun you and, finally, acquires 1st person pronoun I. The reference chain for letting him down is shown in Table 6.3. Letting him down begins as a Head, then becomes a projection, then a Postmodifier, then a pronoun and finally, reappears as a Postmodifier. As in example (6:21), client’s initial formulation ends up, though C’s reformulation, with the identical Mood structure (i.e., I’m letting him down). The movement from a reformulation that has elided the Mood of the original clause Table 6.3 Clause status and grammatical realization for “letting him down” Clause Status for letting him down

Grammatical Realization

Projection/Clause

I begin to fee:l like I’m letting him down

Head/Embedding

this [[letting him down]]

Projection/Clause

you don’t know for sur:e if you’re letting him down?

Postmodifier/Embedding

the history of this idea of [[letting him down]]

Head/Pronoun Head/Pronoun Postmodifier/Embedding

this it this idea [[that I’m letting him down]]

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Problem construction

to the re-introduction of Mood such that it appears as a quote is subtly negotiated by C such that he is able to gain acceptance by W from reformulation to reformulation. Lines 75, 77, 80 and 84 are examples in which W agrees with C’s propositions and thus accepts C’s repeated reconstruals of W’s experiential reality. Nominalizing also enables the creation of lists. Once clauses are embedded, they can easily be strung together through implicit or explicit paratactic extension. In Ex. (6:23), C reformulates using an Identifying relational clause. In lines 03–06, four different embedded clauses are placed within the Token. All of these embedded clauses refer to W’s prior formulations. (6:23) (AO8P4) 01 C: so. what what I wanna get outa here is 02 (0.8) w(hh)hat’s behind this (.) 03 no I’m not goin tuh do that. 04 no I am not the problem? .hh 05 no I’m not going to fret. 06 yes I c’n trust Fred. (1.0) 07 I want tuh know a little bit more 08 about uh h(hh)ow did you come (.) tuh take the steps 09 tuh do this. 10 eh any one of them whichever one of these is 11 most important to you. 12 I’m not the problem 13 or I’m not goin tuh do that 14 or .hh how did you c- how did you prepare yours15 did you prepare yourself for this 16 or did suddenly just (hh)happen one morning 17 that you d that you .hh [came tuh see things differently]

Notice also that all of the embedded clauses in lines 03–06 are realized within a Head noun, that they have retained interpersonal textual elements such as no and yes and that the Mood is expressed using first person singular: this

[[no I’m not goin tuh do that.]] [[no I am not the problem?]] .hh [[no I’m not going to fret.]] [[yes I c’n trust Fred.]] Premodifier Head (Deictic)

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What is so curious about these constructions is their abstraction or ‘thinginess’ on the one hand and their interactional quality on the other. Through first person singular and interpersonal textual elements, C has managed to retain, to some degree, the origin of interactional production of these formulations, while, at the same time, nominalizing and reifying them. One explanation for the appearance of interactional elements – and this will be taken up in the next chapter – is that C is no longer engaged in problem identification but in problem effacement. In the latter activity, C’s reformulations veer towards repetition and quoting rather than reporting. And this seems to happening also here. C is highlighting and emphasizing verbalizations from clients that are indicative of different and progressive behaviour.

. Problem Agency – client sensings In order to construct problems, it is not sufficient that problems merely be identified. Naming behaviours as doing it right or letting him down suggests that these behaviours have implications. Ideationally, what happens in these data is that problems become involved in consequential relations. In general, problems are construed as Agents of clients’ sensings; that is, problems instigate events and clients are construed as thinking or believing these events. In relation to narrative therapy, Problem Agency refers to the counselling practice of “mapping the influence of the problem” (White & Epston 1990: 42). Here, counsellors attempt to explore the various ways in which the problem is influencing the clients’ lives and relationships. What I show in this section are the linguistic resources used by the counsellor to map out the problem’s influence. The first stage of problem construction, Problem Identification, has provided the necessary groundwork for the Problem Agency stage. At this point, through nominalization and identifying relational clauses, problems have been realized as Participants and have been construed as external to the client. As Participants, problems can now go on to acquire the semantics of agency. Agency, as can be recalled from Chapter 5, is part of an ergative interpretation of the clause. Unlike the Actor of a material clause, which construes a type of ‘doing’ and, in conjunction with a Process, extends to a Goal, an Agent refers more generally to a Participant that instigates a Process-Medium complex (Davidse 1992: 109). An Agent is not restricted to material-type clauses. In addition, agency may be realized in mental and relational clauses. In the following sub-sections, I show the manifold ways in which problems are realized as Agents that instigate client cognitions.

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.. Analytic causatives Halliday (1994: 285) treats analytic causatives as verbal group expansions and not as separate clauses. From an ergative perspective, analytic causatives commonly have the form agent + process + event as in John made the ball roll (‘Event’ is used here as a functional synonym for clause or Medium-Process complex), in which the Agent externally brings about an event. By making the ball roll, John externally acted upon it. The ball did not, as the clause the ball rolled might lead us to believe, bring itself into a roll. In counselling however, problems do not usually make clients act on things but rather think things or behave in certain ways. So, instead of engendering further agency, problems give rise to client sensings or behavings. In the following example, C uses analytic causatives to reformulate W’s talk. In each case the problem, it, refers to you being wrong. Each example of an analytic causative is marked by an arrow. (6:24) (A08P5) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 → 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 → 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

W: I’m feeling like uh (.) like we’re mad at each other an an it seems silly? (.) but I don’t know how tuh make it ri::ght. .hh an if I try:::: to:: (1.5) try to:: apologized which I do alot of .hh um= C: =so it makes you apologize a lot.= W: =uh huh. .hh then Fred wants tuh go into it in more detail we haven’t finished ye::t. .hh apologizing isn’t enough. (1.0) we still hafta resolve it. an an I c’n agree with that .hh but fer me:: I’ve lost it. (.) I I its over:: (.) I jus don’t (.) want to get into:: .hh an hour or so:: (0.8) of of it. C: does does it have you does it have you beating up on yourself? (.) W: sure. (0.8) C: well you say sure but you hafta understand that (.) ah I I’m not in your head an I don’t know .hh

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→ →

→ → →

25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

W: C: W: C: W:

C: W: C: W:

C:

W:

wha what what happens tuh you? an I think its important tuh take this out [an put ] it out there? [I:: ] [so we get ] a clear idea about (.) [(should) ] [what’s this problem’s doing? ] [there’s alotta things that ] go:: through my head when when we (.) have a day like this and (.) an becos I’m very insecure? (1.2) ah an Fred I feel that Fred could uh find someone whom would understand him. d does this [idea that I’m ] [an he’d be ] really happy. (1.0) oh. (1.0) so it makes m- you thinking that you’re the wrong person for the marriage? sure. (3.0) many times I feel that. (1.2) that I’m the wrong person. (2.2) he needs someone who is intellectual. (2.5) mhm. (2.5) so does it have you undu- eh .hh does it have you in some wa::ys um .hh undermine your own intelligence? (1.5) questioning your own intellectual ability? (1.0) y:eah? (.) yeah

Each of C’s analytic causatives has the structure it + make/have + you in which it, the Agent, causes an event in which you, the client, is realized as either a Behaver, Senser or Actor. In this way, the problem causes the client to apologize, beat herself up, think, undermine and question. The ergative breakdown of these analytic causatives is shown below.

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Problem construction

it it it

makes you have you makes m- you

it it

have have

Problem/ Cause/ Agent Process

you you

apologize a[lot.] beating up on yourself? thinking that you’re the wrong person for the marriage? unduin some wa::ys um .hh undermine your own intelligence? (1.5) questioning your own intellectual ability?

Client Event . . .

............

Although the above example illustrates events in which clients are realized as either Behavers or Sensers, in the majority of cases, the event is realized by a cognitive Process or a near-cognitive behavioural Process. Clients, therefore, are either made to think that. . . (mental) or think about. . . (behavioural). Consider examples 25–27 below (Agent + Process are in bold; events are in italics). (6:25) (A08P5) 01 C: 02 03 04 W: 05 W:

=yeah? so it makes you think that .hh upit invites you to think wrongly of yourself. [that’s ] my fault. [yeah ] yeah.=

(6:26) (A08P5) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07

C:

[so y that] invi:tes when he asks another question [an he isn’t ] he isn’t clear .hh W: [uh huh ] C: but all it makes you think in some way: that you’re not asking the right question.= W: =that’s correct.

(6:27) (A08P5) 01 C: 02 03 04

wuh what does this victim role have you:: um thinking about yourself. y’know. (2.0) ah as you’re as you’re removing yourself from Fred an (.) going into the other room.

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05 06 07 08 09 10 W:

what kinda thoughts might be going through your head about Fred d does it put ideas in your head that maybe .hh Fred doesn’t care about you (.) doesn’t care about your feelings. oh yes.

In each example, the problem causes the client to think (about) something (i.e., wrongly of yourself., that you’re not asking the right question. and about yourself.). Example (6:27) contains an additional causative that is a metaphorical realization of an analytical causative: d does it put ideas in your head that maybe .hh Fred doesn’t care about you (.). Comparing the analytic causative in line 01 with the metaphorical causative in 05–07 reveals its metaphorical structure. Whereas the former contains a causative verbal group complex (have. . . thinking), the latter is a simple material Process (putting). Although the former is clearly causative, the latter is less clearly so because of various metaphorical transformations. First, ideas is a nominalization (see discussion in Chapter 5). In this metaphorical realization not one but two Processes are contained within the clause. Second, a conduit metaphor is used in which head serves as a container for ideas. Unpacking this metaphor slightly, it is shown that ideas in your head is agnate to you thinking. Third, putting, in this context, is a metaphorical realization of having, making or causing. To summarize, putting these ideas in your head is agnate to have you thinking that. . . . The two clauses are compared below: this victim role have you:: um thinking it put in your head ideas Agent Cause Senser Cognitive Process

.. Agency in commands & processes of sensing A case can be made that agency may be realized in commands or in ‘please’type mental Processes. Halliday (1994: 258) claims that verbal Processes such as request, order or propose can realize commands. In addition, commands can be realized by Processes of desideration such as want or like (Halliday 1994: 289). Unlike the examples with analytic causatives above, desideratives of the form “want x to do” project clauses. They therefore form clause complexes and not verbal group complexes. Nonetheless, Halliday (1994: 289) does remark on the close resemblance between wants him to do and causes him to do. With the

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latter, causing somebody to do something means that it gets done. In contrast, wanting somebody to do something signifies an envisioned doing and, therefore, potential causation or agency. These cases mark an overlap between verbal group expansion and projection. And, it could be argued, between simply sensing an event and bringing it about. The next two examples illustrate this tension between the problem’s desiring something and bringing it about (Projecting clause in bold and projected clause in italics). (6:28) (A08P2) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

C: okay we- we’ll get tuh those [places ] later yeah .hh a::h F: [yeah ] C: an they’re very important right cause that will show you an actually in fact indecisiveness doesn’t have control over all of your life [or even ] .hh F: [mhm ] C: I don’t know how much control it has over your life but .hh right now let’s just look at the u::m the effects of indecisiveness an how it operates .hh uh indecisiveness will want you tuh think that if you get it right the first time you hafta do it agai:n. is that right if you get it right the first time you’ll hafta do it again

(6:29) (A08P2) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

F: yeah didn n:o don’t get no not not the first idea .hh (.) keep that in mind but think well but but what if (.) C: okay so lots of what ifs F: lots of what ifs= C: =okay s:o indecisiveness .hh you really liked u::m (.) you really like for Fred tuh think what ifs

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11 F: yeah 12 C: an the more Fred thinks what ifs 13 the more you got a hold on im

In (6:28) indecisiveness wants F to think something, whereas in (6:29) it likes F to think something. What kinds of arguments are there for treating indecisiveness as an Agent? In the former example, indecisiveness’ agency is alluded to twice. First indecisiveness has control over F’s life and it has effects. One aspect of control is the command. If the problem can command F to think something then the problem controls F, but only if F carries out the command. In other words, control and effects are realized by commanding and causing F to do (i.e., think) certain things. Taken together, want-control-effect are placed within a semantic domain of causality in which want realizes a prelude to cause, an envisioning and commanding of bringing something about. C’s use of want also associates the problem with intentions. In this way, the problem is not accidentally, but purposefully instigating F’s thoughts. Similar arguments can be made for the second example. Here, C reformulates F’s prior talk by claiming that indecisiveness likes F to think what ifs. Aspects of control are also made relevant, since indecisiveness is realized as an Agent in the last clause “the more you got a hold on im”, in which got a hold is agnate to control. Moreover, control is related to the frequency with which F thinks what ifs; that is, the more that indecisiveness commands and causes F to think what ifs, the more indecisiveness controls F. The Phenomenon of ‘please’-type mental Processes is also interpreted as an Agent. In the example it pleases/frightens/amazes me, it is the Agent. In narrative counselling the problem is always realized as the Agent of ‘please’-type mental Processes, whereas the client is the Medium. Consider the following example in which C, in line 08, uses the mental Process convince. (6:30) (A08P4) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 → 08 09 10

C:

[well what ideas] has the problem tryin tuh put in your mind tuh tuh push you back= W: =to put ki- to have him at my house an I will cook breakfast an I will do .hh all of these things tuh make them feel very comfortable at our our house C: so so the problem’s tryin tuh convince you:: that its your job tuh take on all [this ] stuff W: [yes ]

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11 C: [becuz ] otherwise you’d be letting people down= 12 W: [yes ] 13 W: =yes=

Here, the problem is the Agent that convinces W of something. To understand how ‘please’-type Processes play a role in instigating client cognitions, it is instructive to consider an agnate realization of convince. Halliday (1994: 117) claims that ‘please’-type verbs are often paired with ‘like’-type verbs. For convince, the agnate pair would be believe. Therefore, an agnate construction of “the problem convinces you” would be “you believe the problem”. In terms of agency, convincing W means that the problem brings about or causes W to believe something. Another example is shown in (6:31), where the problem, disagreement, tells the client something. Although tell is the realization of a verbal Process, tell in this case is functioning as a ‘please’-type mental Process. One piece of evidence for this is that problems do not, under normal circumstances, speak. So, disagreement in this context is not a Sayer who tells W something; rather, tell is being used as convince above, making disagreement an Agent; by telling the client something, disagreement tries to cause W to believe that he is trying to make you feel stupid too. Note also that 01 contains an (metaphorical) analytical causative: what might disagreement be putting into head. In this line, disagreement is already realized as an Agent that has W think something. It is perhaps also for this reason that the Process tell acquires ‘causal’ features, allowing disagreement to be construed as an Agent. (6:31) (A08P3) 01 C: what might disagreement be putting into head 02 about Fred’s intentions towards you .hh 03 is it trying to tell- is it (.) telling you 04 that he is trying to make you feel stupid too (.)

.. Relational causatives Relational causatives may also, as put ideas in your head, be considered as metaphorical variants of analytical causatives. In Halliday’s (1994: 402) analysis, these causatives are realized by identifying relational clauses. For these clauses, the Token is actually the metaphorical realization of Agent. Lines 01– 02, 05–07 and 27 of Ex. (6:32) show examples of relational causatives. By formulating each relational causative as a question, C asks F to answer whether the

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problem (e.g., this idea that you’ve got tuh get it right) encourages or invites one of two possibilities: decisiveness or indecisiveness. The latter, indecisiveness, has previously been identified as a problem and is selected by F each time. (6:32) (A08P2) → 01 → 02 03 04 → 05 → 06 → 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 → 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34

C: d’you think that this idea that you’ve got tuh get it right (0.8) .hh ah encourages decisiveness or indecisiveness (0.8) F: indecisiveness C: .hh ah d- does this idea that I’d rather do nothing than screw it up (.) encourage decisiveness or indecisiveness (2.0) maybe neither maybe [whatever ] charac F: [well ] inaction [indecisiveness ] too C: [yeah okay ] F: an an .hh an because the option is still there right (.) C: yuh F: the decision hasn’t been made= C: =yuh F: a:n its [still ] there tuh do nothing [with ] C: [yuh ] [yuh ] F: an tuh keep considering [so ] [yuh ] but its more likely to invite an action F: yeah= C: =remo [bilization ] F: [yeah but ] uh continued indecisiveness C: .hh don’t do anything unless the tees are crossed an the I’s are dotted. does that invite decisiveness or indecisiveness (2.0) F: indecisiveness (3.0) C: yeah if .hh if you were to:: u:m (.) like would that be good thing fer you tuh do would it be a good thing fer you to uh look at the place of indecisiveness in your life

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35 (2.2) 36 F: yes

Interpersonally, the question/answer exchanges that C initiates may be interpreted as exam type questions that negotiate information that C already possesses. In each case, C’s questions sequentially implicate that F answers with indecisiveness. Although C provides F with a choice (i.e., decisiveness or indecisiveness) in answering, it is quite clear that there is only one correct answer. Providing F with opposing alternatives may also preclude the possibility of seeing other alternatives. A ‘problem’ such as this idea that you’ve got tuh get it right, for instance, may encourage other behaviours, but when framed within C’s choice of either decisiveness or indecisiveness, other possibilities become excluded. F’s response of indecisiveness has various consequences. It confirms that indecisiveness is problematic behaviour; it confirms that indecisiveness is caused by a series of Agents; and finally, it confirms that the correct problem has been identified by C and that these problems are external instigators of negative client behaviour. In sum, C’s use of question/answer interpersonal resources helps to persuade F that C’s reconstrual of his experiential and social reality is correct. And furthermore, question/answer exchanges realize both regulative and instructional registers of counselling. C’s questions tend to construe a social order in which C is the expert and the clients are the apprentices. As a result, the pattern of indecisiveness is reinforced and counsellor-client interactions are regulated and constrained to include talking about problems abstractly and talking about problems in terms of agency. The Agent in each of these relational causatives is an embedded clause. For the first two Agents, the Head is a nominalized cognitive Process (i.e., idea) and the Postmodifier is the embedded reformulation of client’s prior formulation (e.g., you’ve got tuh get it right and I’d rather do nothing than screw it up). The third Agent is realized by the pronoun that, which refers back to an embedded utterance (i.e., don’t do anything unless the tees are crossed an the I’s are dotted). Causality is realized by the verbs encourage and invite. The different functional categories pertaining to each relational causative are illustrated below: this idea that you’ve got tuh get it right encourages decisiveness or indecisiveness this idea that I’d rather do nothing than screw it up

encourage decisiveness or indecisiveness

don’t do anything unless the tees are crossed an the I’s are dotted

invite

decisiveness or indecisiveness

Token/Agent

Cause

Value/Result

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As already mentioned, relational causatives are metaphorical variants of analytic causatives. The Value or Result of the first relational causative could, for instance, be unpacked to yield: ‘this idea that you’ve got tuh get it right encourages you to decide or not decide’. There are relational causatives, however, that do not realize a Result. In these examples, one Participant acts as the Agent while the other acts as the Medium. The causative relations that bind these two participants are impact or affect. I argue that these Processes are relational and not material or mental because, unlike material processes, they can occur with a fact clause (e.g., [[the fact that there’s no one here]] affects me); and, unlike mental processes, they cannot project (e.g., *the problem affects me that I’m letting others down). Nonetheless, these causatives bear similarity to ‘please’-type mental verbs. For these Processes, the problem is the Agent that induces a change in the client or the clients’ relationship. In Ex. (6:33), for instance, we get realizations such as it affects you or this impacts upon you, which bear resemblance to this convinces/frightens/upsets me (Agents are highlighted in bold, causatives in italics). (6:33) (A08P1) 01 C: 02 03 04 05 → 06 07 → 08 09 10 W: 11 12 13

→ 33 C: 34 35 → 36 37 38

okay I wanna I wanna talk about that I wanna talk in the little bit of the time that we have left about um about that particular pattern .hh um m: maybe since you’re speaking about I’ll ask you um .hh what are y- impact or effect .hh does this lecturing style that you experience from Fred what does what impact does that have on you .hh as a person .hh oh well I it makes me feel like uh a child? .hh to a certain degree .hh it makes me feel like I’m (1.0) I I’m ignorant that I can’t grasp it quickly .hh umm . . . so you’re very clear about uh the different ways in which this impacts upon you .hh what what what way does it uh like how does it affect you on a behavioural way um .hh what does it have you doing that may be against your better your better judgement .hh

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F: DAP1106.tex / p.45 (2988-3033)

Problem construction 

→ 39 that may in some way negatively impact 40 upon the relationship 41 even though that’s not what you want to do 42 W: alright well .hh what I my defence is that I will just say 43 .hh alright Fred you’re right you’re right uh 44 and uh .hh I jus- I can’t talk about this anymore 45 because .hh you’re right 46 even thou:gh 47 (0.8) 48 C: you don’t believe it [( ) ] heh heh 49 W: [I don’t believe it ] hhh heh

The relational Processes affect and impact also have a possessive relational correlate. In line 08, C asks what impact the lecturing has on W. Therefore, the two agnate ways of expressing causality would be the lecturing style impacts on you or the lecturing style has an impact on you. In the latter, the process impact is nominalized and realized as a Participant of the possessive relational Process. Lines 06–13 demonstrate how C makes use of interpersonal resources to gain client agreement in realizing causality. In lines 06–08 C does not state, using declarative Mood, the impact of F’s lecturing style on W. Rather, he requests this information. It is, or course, true that C cannot provide that information and so it makes good sense to ask the client for it. However, what C does not do is first ask W whether the lecturing style has an impact or allow W to make the first connection between behaviour (i.e., lecturing style) and Cause. The agency of problems is, in every instance of this counsellor’s attempts at realizing problem agency, simply a taken for granted fact. Questions of this sort, I would argue, are persuasive because they get clients to participate in realizing problem construction. By providing the ‘impact’, clients ratify C’s identification of the problem and the construal of problem as Agent. .. Agency & causality within nominal groups Agency and causality may also be realized within nominal groups. As shown above, agency (e.g., this idea that you’ve got tuh get it right) or causality (e.g., an impact) may be construed as nominalizations. What I wish to illustrate here is how both agency and causality are packaged within a single nominal group and not, as above, within separate Participants. Typical realizations of this type of causal construction involve placing Cause within the Head and the Agent within the Postmodifier of the nominal group. An example is, in lines 01 and

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 Chapter 6

07 below, another trick of the problem, in which trick is the nominalized Cause and problem is the Agent. Later in the conversation, in line 78, C unpacks the experiential structure of this nominal group to produce an analytic causative: this problem may be sorta tricking you. Here, agency and Cause are distributed to different parts of the clause’s grammar. So, rather than being placed within a nominal group, agency is realized as a Participant and Cause as a Process. (6:34) (A08P3) 01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 W:

.hh uh another trick of the problem is to convince you that u::m .hh just like you mentioned an I say this several times becuz I think its hard for people to hear this this way for the first time? .hh another trick of the problem i::s (0.8) that (1.0) y you’re letting somebody down. which is (.) one (.) of standing up for yourself means letting somebody down (1.0) right that’s [one ] trick. .hh [yes ] . . . 72 C: okay [.hh ] so up here you know 73 W: [( ) ] 74 C: that Fred’s committed to the relationship 75 but down here is not m:: not what you’re experiencing= 76 W: =not what I’m feeling [( )] 77 C: [feeling ] right right (.) 78 so this problem may be sorta tricking you into 79 misinterpreting Fred’s actions as well

Two other examples are shown in (6:35) and (6:36) below. In (6:35), Cause and agency are realized in the requirements of indecisiveness and in (6:36) the influence of indecisiveness. For both examples, indecisiveness is the Agent that is realized in the Postmodifier. Cause, realized in the Head, is expressed through the nominalized Processes requirements and influence. As in Ex. (6:34) these nominal groups could be unpacked to yield the more congruent forms of indecisiveness requires you to lecture in order tuh gather information and indecisiveness influences you.

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Problem construction 

(6:35) (A08P3) 01 F: [y y’know an] an that’s basically cuz I’m trying 02 all this information .hh 03 which I think is raw an uncoloured (1.0) 04 weh I’m tryin tuh be impartial 05 an get all her information 06 so I c’n weigh it in my balance 07 (.) 08 C: oh so wuz wuz indecison 09 one of the requirements of indecisiveness wuz .hh that 10 you would lecture in order tuh gather [information] (6:36) (A08P2) 01 C: okay so let’s look at u::m ah indecisiveness ((sound of papers rustling)) 02 .hh ahh w: I think 03 what we want to do here is m:: what we call mapping out 04 the influence of indecisiveness .hh u::::m (1.5) 05 I want ya tuh sort’ve think u::::h (1.0) 06 imagine I’m sort’ve u:::h talking indecisiveness (0.8) 07 .hh uh indecisiveness I’d like tuh know u::m (.) 08 what kinda ideas do you put in Fred’s head (1.2) 09 u:::h that would make him u:::m u::m go along with you 10 (4.0) 11 F: o::h that if you (1.0) get it right the first time 12 you won’t hafta do it again

In sum, problem agency is realized by C’s construal of the problem as instigating negative client cognitions. Ideationally, C expands the meaning potential of problems by introducing consequentiality, thereby reinforcing the notion that problems are external to clients. To achieve this aim, problems are realized as Agents of analytic causatives, relational causatives, ‘please’-type clauses and of commanding clauses. C also uses interpersonal resources to get clients to participate in the Problem Agency stage. Here, questions play a dominant role. Through questions, C is able to realize a regulative register by getting clients to provide and ratify the negative behaviour or Result that the problem causes.

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F: DAP1106.tex / p.48 (3179-3240)

 Chapter 6

. Negotiating the ‘goals’ of problem construction I have proposed in this chapter that problem construction of the narrative counselling interview is the first genre in the counselling process and that it, in turn, is realized by two stages: Problem Identification and Problem Agency. Since the stages of problem construction are goal-oriented, one would expect that when any one of these stages is not realized, at those points in the conversation when they should be relevantly realized, its absence will be oriented to by the counsellor as problematic; that is, during these relevant absences, counsellors should be working to re-direct the interaction to fit the aims of narrative therapy. These ‘deviant cases’ in which the expected stages of narrative counselling are not realized shed important light on the counselling process because: (1) they suggest that counsellors do actually work towards realizing specific aims, which are realized in their specific linguistic practices; and (2) they provide further evidence for the existence of the stages that I have identified. In the following example, I illustrate a deviant case in which, following Problem Identification, Problem Agency does not follow and is oriented to by C as relevantly forthcoming. In session one, after having identified the problem as the lecturing style and after having explored the effects of the lecturing style (i.e., its agency) with W, C then attempts to establish the agency of other problems but this time with F. In lines 14–18 C identifies a number of potential problems by embedding F’s previous formulations within the Head of a nominal group: this . . . she’s avoiding confrontation and .hh e:: not speaking her mind and giving up on things. C then explores what effect these events have on F. Put differently, by seeking out a further causal connection with F, C attempts to ‘strengthen’ the pattern. If C can demonstrate the successive effects of the lecturing style (i.e., the initiator of it all), then these successive effects may be seen as, using Garfinkel’s (1967) terminology, documentary evidences of an underlying pattern. (6:37) (A08P1) 01 C: 02 W: 03 C: 04 05 06 07

okay Fred thanks Wendy Sue uh huh even though I didn’t spend longer than that Fred I’m back with you pretty quickly um Fred (0.8) um (1.0) We- Wendy Sue shared with us about um this lecturing style that she experiences um um (hh)a (hh)a would you how do you

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Problem construction 

08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

how do you see it uh you talked about the communication difficulties that you’re experiencing and you liked to do something about it .hh what part of the pattern do you see that you would like to uh to deal with you talked about this uh W- Wendy Sue not not not willing tuh she’s avoiding confrontation and .hh e:: not speaking her mind and and giving up on things .hh now what’s that like for you when she does that

In lines 19–20 C sets up a hypotactic temporal relation between clauses in which W’s behaviour (e.g., avoiding confrontation) is matched with an event that is realized by a relational clause (i.e., what’s that like for you). Grammatically, F is being asked to identify or provide the Value for W’s behaviour, which is realized as the Token (i.e., that [Token] is for me like . . . [Value]). Small wonder then that F responds by emphasizing the difficulty of reacting to someone who is avoiding confrontation (its like trying tuh catch a slippery fish . . . ) rather than addressing the effects that W’s avoiding confrontation has on him. (6:38) (A08P1) 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

(2.2) F: its like trying tuh catch a slippery fish or something ya just can’t C: mhm F: can’t get a hold of the uh the subject toI probably wanna grab it and beat it tuh death right? C: the subject F: the subject whatever it is I wanna go at it if I’m interested w- ah sometimes I’m not interested I have m- moments of don’t bother me I don’t wanna C: mhm F: know about anything or once I’ve I get fixated on something .hh

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F: DAP1106.tex / p.50 (3297-3366)

 Chapter 6

34 35 36 37 38

I’m trying tuh okay figure this out what are we going to do tomorrow or the weekend or and I and I guess I tend to almost interview her (1.2) what do you think about so and so uhmm

From the onset, F contrasts W’s elusiveness with his almost maniacal obsession with discussing a subject (grab it and beat it tuh death, I get fixated). F thus describes his activities using high usuality. This serves, as we see later on in his turn, to legitimate his interviewing style. It should be recalled that much of the prior discussion centred around F’s lecturing style and how it invited W into feeling like a child, stupid, depressed, etc. It may therefore not be a coincidence that F’s ECFs, in which his stake or interest in discussing a subject tends to exceed the bounds of ‘normal’ behaviour, are produced just after this focus on F’s lecturing style. Notice how F also counteracts the claim made against him that he has a lecturing style by describing it as interviewing. Whereas lecturing may have certain patronizing implications, interviewing implies a more neutral type of exchange between W and F. Moreover, F describes his actions as I tend to almost interview her. In claiming that he almost interviews, W further weakens any further implication that he is dominant, persistent, or overbearing. F continues on in this vein by describing how he wants to do everything right, when C introduces a topic change to redirect the focus on this pattern. (6:39) (A08P1) 89 C: maybe I’m taking you down the wrong path here 90 I’m I’m curious about this the pattern that goes on 91 between you um .hh 92 when Wendy Sue experiencing experiences you in 93 a lecturing kind of way 94 she talked about 95 feeling .hh y’know like a child 96 feeling mmm ignorant and stupid 97 like her intelligence wasn’t being wasn’t being 98 appreciated .hh uh 99 that y- you don’t see 100 that she can’t that she can understand things 101 but she was feeling in some ways 102 that she couldn’t .hh angry screaming at you uh 103 wanting to say you’re right .hh um 104 when that happens

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Problem construction 

105 106 107 108 109

wh- what kinda things does that trigger in you that maybe contributes to this pattern (1.5) do you find yourself in some way responding back with more lecturing .hh um more interviewing style

In this turn, C reformulates his question to F and alters a number of things in the process. In Ex. (6:37) C attempted to make a causal link between how F experiences W as avoiding confrontation and not speaking her mind and giving up on things and F’s subsequent reaction to that. In Ex. (6:39), by constrast, C turns the focus towards W’s experiences and the pattern that C helped to coconstruct between F’s lecturing style and W’s experiences of this lecturing style (i.e., feeling like a child, feeling mmm ignorant and stupid, etc.). Furthermore, F is being asked to explain how he responds to W’s experiences, and C provides one possible response by suggesting that F continues lecturing or interviewing. At least two more points are worth mentioning here. First, C asks F how he responds to W’s experiences of F’s lecturing style. Assuming that experiences are private matters that only the experiencer can know, it remains unclear as to how F is able to respond to such a private matter. Second, in contrast to C’s initial formulation, C now provides a possible way in which F might be responding; that is, with more lecturing (F lectures → W feels like a child → F lectures/interviewes more: a feed-back loop). Notice also that C then changes his initial choice, lecturing, to F’s choice of interviewing. In sum, C places F in the uncomfortable situation of having to now respond to W’s experiences as if they were made public to F (i.e., through interaction) and to have to address the possibility of his, F’s, responding with more lecturing or interviewing. What does F do? (6:40) (A08P1) 110 F: I suppose 111 I get irritated 112 because she won’t play the game (1.8) 113 because I’ve I’ve I’ve embarked upon this .hh this path 114 this little process I’m trying tuh go through 115 and she won’t she won’t participate in it (1.2) 116 and I guess i in the past 117 when I wuz more confident 118 and I knew everything in the world 119 then I would pursue it like a dog with a bone 120 now I think I throw up my arms

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 Chapter 6

121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131

or maybe I don’t even do that maybe I just quit on it .hh but I think I probably send you a pretty good message that (1.5) like maybe you won’t play or you’re not willing or you’re too stupid to follow what I’m trying to do I might I I’ve thought that on occasion I thought this must be too difficult for her y’know she can’t understand what I’m trying tuh do here

He first formulates how he responds (I suppose I get irritated because she won’t play the game). I propose that F’s response does two things: First, it provides the effect that W’s behaviour has on him; and second, related to the first, W’s behaviour is made the Cause or Agent of his behaviour. In other words, W’s not playing the game (i.e., avoiding confrontation) causes F to get irritated. Notice also that F does not select the responses of interviewing or lecturing provided by C. Instead, he states that he gets irritated and provides an account for his irritation: because she won’t play the game. More importantly, however, his account is not aligned with W’s experiences of F’s lecturing style, but is aligned with F’s experiences of W as avoiding confrontation (i.e., she won’t play the game). In this way, F successfully diverts the focus back to his experiences of W and accounts for his irritation. Further warranting is done by F in lines 113–114. Here, F provides additional reasons for his irritation by claiming that W is unwilling to participate in a little process that F has embarked upon. In the latter part of his turn, however, F addresses W’s experience of feeling stupid and ignorant. F embeds this in a 3-part list that refers to possible messages that F conveys to W when he resigns from discussing a subject with her. F: . . . but I think I probably send you a pretty good message that (1.5) like maybe 1 you won’t play or 2 you’re not willing or 3 you’re too stupid to follow what I’m trying to do

F concedes that he has, on occasion, thought that W finds some issues too difficult or that she cannot understand them. In the subsequent turn, C asks do you really believe that about her to which F responds, no. Since F does not ‘really’ believe that W is stupid, C then suggests a possible cause that might lead

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F: DAP1106.tex / p.53 (3491-3548)

Problem construction 

F to think so. This is a cause that was mentioned by F when he provided three possibilities for how W might respond to F’s irritation. Notice that from the three possible readings that W might have as to why F is irritated, C focuses on the last one from the list: you’re too stupid to follow what I’m trying to do. Although all three have been put forward by F as possibilities, C only deals with the last one, the one that coincides with W’s experience of the lecturing style. So here, in a very subtle interactional move by C, focus is drawn away from the other possibilities and directed solely to W’s experience of feeling stupid and ignorant. (6:41) 134 C: .hh so what is it that’s putting these ideas in your head 135 .hh is it irritation 136 that when you get irritated 137 it leads to these thoughts 138 that my wife is stupid 139 and she can’t understand 140 and I’ll just I’ll just back down (1.5) 141 is res- is irritation giving you the idea 142 like if this [is a hard way tuh think about things]

In this turn, C realizes both stages of problem construction. First a new problem, irritation, is identified and, second, irritation is realized as the Agent for F’s thinking that W is stupid; that is, the following consequential relation is realized by C: when W avoids confrontation, resigns from the discussion, etc., F becomes irritated, which causes him to think that W is stupid. To conclude, C has successfully moved the interaction from F’s claims about what he feels when W avoids confrontation, to problem construction in which a problem has been identified, and its agency explored. In sum, it was shown in this chapter how the first genre of the counselling process, problem construction, is realized by the stages Problem Identification and Problem Agency. In Problem Identification, clients tend to recount events by appraising self or other’s behaviour in terms of high usuality. In this way, self or other is cast in terms of always doing some negative behaviour, which corresponds to a naturalistic description of clients’ identities. To unpack these naturalistic descriptions, C tends to respond to these client recounts by reformulating them. In this manner, clients’ experiential reality is reconstrued by placing clients’ formulation within a Token-Value relationship. Here, behaviours become nominalized and, therefore, get transformed into Participants. The result of this process is that problems become separated from the

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 Chapter 6

client. Interpersonally, reformulations index a negotiation of clients’ experiential and social reality. Through reformulation, the counsellor attempts to reconstrue the events that the clients experienced and the social relationships that the clients enacted. In these data, the counsellor is the expert who is in the best position to describe other’s experiences. Furthermore, nominalized behaviours tend to be more difficult to negotiate. Since it requires more discursive work to unpack nominalizations and challenge them, there is a greater chance that clients will accept C’s nominalized reconstrual of the problem. Identifying problems is the necessary first step in turning them into Agents. Once problems become abstract ‘things’ or Participants, they may be associated with a number of causative Processes (i.e., analytic causative, relational causative, ‘please’-type mental or command Processes) and, in this way, may acquire agency. Ideationally, consequential relations expand the meaning potential of problems since, in addition to being abstract things, they also externally instigate events such as undesirable client cognitions. The counsellor also uses interpersonal resources, such as questions, to gain client acceptance of the kinds of consequential relations associated with problems. In addition, the construal of problems as external instigators realizes a specific hierarchy in which problems, since they are Agents who control clients, have higher status than clients. Therefore, the end result of problem construction is that clients’ experiential and social reality has been significantly transformed and that problems, by controlling clients, and the counsellor, by having more knowledge, have higher status than clients. Narrative counselling, or course, is not merely about identifying problems and pointing out how problems affect clients’ lives. Problems imply solutions. In my counselling data, the problem construction genre provides the necessary semiotic resources for eliminating problems. This is the second and last genre of narrative counselling and is described in the next chapter.

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F: DAP1107.tex / p.1 (40-113)

Chapter 7

Problem effacement

. Overview According to White and Epston (1990) helping clients to move away from “problem-saturated descriptions” of their lives and relationships is a necessary component of the externalizing approach. For, once clients attain an understanding of how problems are influencing their lives, they will need to find the necessary resources to oppose this negative influence and substitute that with a more productive type of agency. White and Epston (1990: 45) refer to this stage in narrative therapy as “mapping the influence of persons”, which aims to “. . . bring forth information that contradicts the problem-saturated description of family life and assist persons in identifying their competence and resourcefulness in the face of adversity.” Counselling must, therefore, go beyond problem construction. Identifying problems and pointing out their causal effects is not sufficient in helping clients. If the counsellor were to stop at this genre, clients would merely have an understanding of, through the counsellor’s reconstrual of their experiential reality, what behaviours are identifiable as problems, and how these problems are influencing their lives. Problems must in addition be eliminated in some way. It is in the latter half of counselling that the counsellor attempts to fulfill this aim. The way in which problems are effaced is in all liklihood influenced by the way in which they are constructed. If, for instance, the counsellor had identified clients’ problems as medical in origin, effacement would probably have included medicative treatment. Alternatively, identifying the problem within the family (as in family therapy) would most likely call for a different kind of communicative network between family members. Within these counselling sessions under examination, problems were identified as behaviours such as doing it right or letting others down, and these behaviours were construed as Agents that cause client cognitions or undesirable events. In order to counter the problem’s influence on clients, these issues of problem agency and client cognition must be addressed by the counsellor. In this counselling data, problem agency is countered by providing an alterna-

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F: DAP1107.tex / p.2 (113-137)

 Chapter 7

tive to problem agency. Logico-semantically, effacing problems is an extension (represented by the symbol ‘+’) of, and more specifically a contrast to, problem construction. One way to construct alternatives to problems is to make clients or new positively appraised events, rather than the problem, the Agent. Another way is to focus on client cognitions by having clients believe something else. Construing clients as Agents and as the Sensers of alternative cognitions effaces problems because problems are no longer the cause of events and the effects that problems cause (i.e., client cognitions) no longer become realized. From these data, two general stages of problem effacement, Identification of Alternative Events and Alternative Event and Client Agency were identified. The stages of problem effacement are depicted in Figure 7.1. The Identification of Alternative Events stage also contains an embedded story genre, but unlike Problem Identification, which contains a recount, this stage in problem effacement contains a narrative. The goal-oriented unfolding of a narrative story genre bears much similarity to the narrative counselling Narrative Counselling Interview

+2 Problem Effacement* (Genre 2) Ù 1 x2 Identification of Alternative Events and Alternative Events Client Agency (Stage 1) (Stage 2) Ù =2 1 Formulation Reformulation [[Narrative]] Ù Ù COMP E RES

COMP = Complication RES = Resolution E = Evaluation

Figure 7.1 Genre 2 of the narrative counselling interview

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F: DAP1107.tex / p.3 (137-203)

Problem effacement 

interview. Narratives, for instance, consist of a Complication (i.e., crisis) and Resolution stage. These two stages in many ways mirror the two genres of the counselling macro-genre, because, for both genres, a problem or crisis is constructed, which is then followed by a resolution of the problem. The emphasis on client agency over problem agency is seen in Ex. (7:1). (7:1) (A08P4) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07

C: .hh [what the job ] my job here with you .hh is to: W: [mhm ] C: develop an alternate story about who you are W: yes= C: =one that you now choose to live your life by. (.) rather than one that wuz chosen for you (1.0) [yes? ] W: [yeah ] okay

C, in line 01, thematizes the Value, my job here with you, within an identifying relational clause. In addition, to: develop an alternate story about who you are is the Token and marks that aspect of C’s utterance that points to problem effacement. In lines 05–06, C compares W’s agency (one that you now choose to live your life by.) with the problem’s agency (one that wuz chosen for you) by contrasting W’s choosing to live her own life with the problem’s choosing for W. The alternate story proposed by C is one in which clients may construe themselves as Agents of their own actions. Although the verbal group complex, choose to live, is not a direct realization of instigation and therefore agency (live your life is a Process ^ Range construction), I argue that adding choose in this context adds indirect agency. Here, choose expresses intention and that W is instigating an alternative story about who she is. The pedagogic discourse in the problem effacement genre also foregrounds regulation, but, in constrast to problem construction, instruction becomes more salient. In this genre, clients begin to express their newly developed skills at talking about problems abstractly and about reasoning about behaviour in terms of causality and agency. Pedagogic discourse, in relation to client development, will be discussed in more detail in Chapter 8.

. Identification of alternative behaviours The first step in problem effacement involves the identification of an alternative event. Recall that problems are construed by the counsellor as embedded

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F: DAP1107.tex / p.4 (203-251)

 Chapter 7

clauses such as pleasing others or feeling badly. Furthermore, these problems are client behaviours that cause undesirable client cognitions and events and they are realis realizations, which means that these behaviours represent typically common present ongoing events. If W’s present behaviours are overshadowed by, for example, pleasing others, feeling badly and letting others down, it would certainly be newsworthy to find instances in which W does not please others, feel badly or seem concerned about letting others down. In other words, if W were to behave opposite to pleasing others by not doing things to please others, the problem pleasing others and its causal influences would disappear. There are two lexicogrammatical resources that play a significant role in realizing this stage by orienting to the significance of Clients’ formulations. The first is ideational and involves using projection to reformulate by quoting clients’ prior utterance; that is, when clients formulate an alternative behaviour that is contradictory to the problem, C will reformulate clients’ talk by quoting it. Unlike reporting a prior utterance, quoting reproduces and, I would argue, emphasizes what clients have just said, making their formulation especially newsworthy. In this way, care is taken to reproduce clients’ exact speech rather than glossing or elaborating it through abstraction. The second lexicogrammatical resource is interpersonal. When clients formulate alternative behaviours, C positively appraises the formulation. Although clients’ formulations of events become reformulated in both problem construction and problem effacement, events do not undergo an identical transformation in the latter genre. Whereas events are quoted in the latter genre, events are most often placed in Token-Value relationships in the former. Nominalization, therefore, plays a more minor role in problem effacement than in problem construction. One reason for this may be that, in problem effacement, the counsellor does not wish to reconstrue clients’ formulations into a more abstract form; that is, unlike in problem construction in which client meanings are reworked, or clarified, so that they they can be construed as Participants, reformulations in problem effacement involves reworking clients’ wordings. Here, the lexicogrammatical and phonological forms of clients’ formulations are maintained in order to demonstrate and emphasize their significance. .. Projection In problem effacement, the lexicogrammatical resources used for projection are verbal clauses. When clients formulate an event that contrasts with a previously formulated problem, C quotes the formulation and retains its clause

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F: DAP1107.tex / p.5 (251-329)

Problem effacement 

structure. An example of projection is shown in Ex. (7:2). This excerpt is taken from session 3 and centres around F’s decision making. It should be recalled that in session 2, F’s decision making was associated with highly usual behaviour such as doing it right, if you do it naturally you’ll end up doing it wrong and all the tees hafta be crossed the I’s hafta be dotted. C had identified these events as problems that cause indecisiveness. In this way, for example, doing things right prevents F from deciding to do anything, since so much time and energy is taken up trying to do it right. (7:2) (A08P3) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 → 21 22 23 → 24 25 26 → 27 28 29

C: d did our session la::st week in any way help you tuh look at your relationship tuh decision making differently (1.5) F: I don’t know if it different maybe I just examined it more C: uh huh= F: a::nd uh (3.5) C: mhm. what conclusion did you come up with (.) F: I think I got I think I got to a a decision: a little faster (0.8) C: uh huh= F: =right um C: did it make [sense to ] F: [something’s ] gotta be done (0.8) is this is this goin to be vital if its done the wrong way. I could even afford tuh do this the wrong way I’ll just do it (.) an [I c’n an I c’n ] C: [you said I c’n even ] afford tuh do this the wrong way?= F: =mhm= C: =you said that yourself this week? F: yeah (1.0) or I c’n: (.) I c’n do it over again if I did it wrong right

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 Chapter 7

In line 21 however, F formulates an event that contrasts with the above mentioned events: “I could even afford tuh do this the wrong way”. I analyze afford tuh do as a verbal group complex in which afford conveys certain implications that result from doing it wrong. While doing it right results in saved time, saved money, etc., doing it wrong implies the opposite. Therefore, when F claims he could even afford tuh do this the wrong way, he negates the negative result. Also, F’s use of could realizes ability. In this way, F is able to do something irrespective of whether he does it wrong or right and without any negative result. In line 24, C quotes F’s formulation with the slight modification of transforming F’s could to c’n (you said I c’n even afford tuh do this the wrong way?). It is however possible that C tied his c’n to F’s c’n in line 23. What is also noteworthy about F’s formulation is that it realizes the bare outline of a narrative; that is, his Orientation stage explains to the listener that the narrative is about making decisions more quickly (the beginning of the narrative is, arguably, prompted by C’s questions), which is followed by the Complication, something’s gotta be done . . . , and the Resolution of the problem (i.e., I could even afford tuh do this the wrong way). F’s Narrative is outlined in terms of stages below: Orientation

I think I got I think I got to a a decision: a little faster Complication [something’s] gotta be done (0.8) is this is this goin to be vital if its done the wrong way. Resolution I could even afford tuh do this the wrong way I’ll just do it (.) an [I c’n an I c’n]

What is missing in F’s narrative, however, is an Evaluation stage. Since F goes about construing a Complication and Resolution in a matter of fact manner, C’s reformulation may be seen as filling in for the Evaluation stage by positively appraising F’s Resolution of the decision making problem (i.e., you said I c’n even afford tuh do this the wrong way?). C’s contribution is critical here because evaluation plays such an important role in construing a narrative’s significance; that is, it highlights the significance of what F has just uttered. Another example of a reformulation of projection in which C quotes W’s formulation occurs in Ex. (7:3). The problem that precedes W’s formulation of an alternative behaviour is letting others down (lines 12–15). Moreover, letting others down is realized within a Postmodifier whose Head is the nominalized

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Problem effacement 

Process influence (i.e., under the influence of letting others do:w::n). Unpacking this nominal group yields the more congruent construction that ‘letting others down influences W at home’. A consequence of this problem is that W is reluctant to speak her own mind or to say no to others. W’s formulation of a behaviour that opposes letting others down occurs in lines 21–22, when she says no::: .hh I’m not going to do tha::t. C then reformulates in lines 31–33 by saying so so j just those simple words did you say no:: I am not going to do that. Notice that the projected quote in line 33 is almost identical to W’s formulation in line 22. In fact, C even matches W’s speech delivery by extending the syllable of no::. It should also be pointed out that before C reformulates, he utters a confirmation-seeking question in line 24 (i.e., you’ve done that?). I would argue that this utterance demonstrates surprise and realizes the interpersonal function of positively appraising W’s formulation. (7:3) (A08P4) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 → 21 → 22 23 24 25

C: u::m w what wuz your take on the three sessions so far W: ((coughs)) well I’m (1.0) I’m very p- (.) every time I come ba::ck [I ] rea:d .hh the letter i i ah C: [( ) ] W: I seem to:: .hh have a a y’know it ah its all coming toge::ther .hh with me:: .hh on why I (0.8) am the way I am. (.) .hh an by that I mean= C: =ya mean who ya mean the way you are at work? or the way you are at= W: =the way I am at home [(on the influence) of work ] C: [under the influence of ] letting others down W: under the influence of letting others do:w::n .hh and uh being in charge etcetera an y’know always wanting like those two:: .hh almost two:: seperate.hh u::m people if you wish and .hh um C: mhm= W: =its been really i uh interesting the last couple of weeks .hh when I have simply said no::: .hh I’m not going to do tha::t (0.8) C: you’ve done that? W: I have done that hh heh heh .hh

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 Chapter 7

26 27 28 29 30 → 31 → 32 → 33 34 35

[an its difficult an ] C: [( ) ] W: an as guilty I feel afterwards I kno::w I’ll .hh that its the right thing for me tuh [say:: ] C: [so so ] j just those simple words did you say no:: [I am ] not going to do that= W: [ye::s ] W: =ye::s

W’s formulation may also be seen in terms of a narrative. Her narrative begins with an Orienation by explaining to C how counselling is benefiting her (i.e., it ah its all coming toge::ther .hh with me:: . . . ). This stage is followed by a Complication in which she provides a short list of the problems (e.g., under the influence of letting others do:w::n). Following the Complication, W provides a Resolution, but she does, unlike F in (7:2), evaluate her Resolution (i.e., its been really i uh interesting the last couple of weeks . . . ). C further evaluates W’s Resolution in line 24 by displaying surprise and W, in the turns 25–30, ends her narrative with a continuing evaluation (e.g., an its difficult). Orientation

I seem to:: .hh have a a y’know it ah its all coming toge::ther .hh with me:: .hh on why I (0.8) am the way I am. (.) .hh an by that I mean= Complication =the way I am at home [(on the influence) of work] =under the influence of letting others do:w::n .hh and uh being in charge etcetera an y’know always wanting like those two:: .hh almost two:: seperate .hh u::m people if you wish and .hh um Evaluation =its been really i uh interesting the last couple of weeks .hh Resolution when I have simply said no::: .hh I’m not going to do tha::t Coda I have done that hh heh heh .hh Evaluation an its difficult an an as guilty I feel afterwards I kno::w I’ll .hh that its the right thing for me tuh [say::]

As shown in the above examples, appraisal plays a major role in counsellor’s reformulation of clients’ narrative, especially if clients fail to provide their own

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Problem effacement 

positive appraisal of what they have just formulated. The next section looks at counsellor appraisal in more detail. .. Appraisal In chapter three a brief outline of Martin’s (2000) system of appraisal was given. There it was shown that appraisal is composed of three systems: affect, judgement and appreciation. Affect construes emotions (e.g., happy, uneasy, bored), judgement construes social esteem and social sanction (e.g., normality, veracity, propriety) and appreciation construes assessments of texts or behaviour (e.g., ‘did it grab me?’, ‘did it hang together?’, ‘was it worthwhile?’). Furthermore, all three systems include a positive and negative dimension (e.g., happy-unhappy, honest-dishonest, exciting-tedious) and a system of amplification that is used to grade appraisals (e.g., very/slightly happy). When identifying alternative events, C makes use of the system of appreciation to appraise clients’ formulations; that is, C does not respond to clients’ formulations by saying how happy/sad or anxious/confident (i.e., affect) that makes him, nor by saying how truthful/dishonest or moral/immoral (i.e., judgement) the formulation was. Rather, C demonstrates an appreciation of clients’ formulation by positively reacting to it and by valuing it as significant. According to Martin (2000: 160) reaction is a sub-type of appreciation and “has to do with the degree to which the text/process in question captures our attention (reaction:impact) and the emotional impact it has on us.” Valuation is another sub-type of appreciation and “has to do with our assessment of the social significance of the text/process” (Martin 2000: 160). Reaction orients to the questions “did it grab me?” (reaction:impact) or “did I like it?” (reaction:quality) and is realized by positive lexemes such as fantastic, splendid, impressive, captivating and fascinating. Examples of reaction:impact are shown in Examples (7:2), line 27 and (7:3) line 24 when C expresses surprise (i.e., you said that yourself this week? and you’ve done that?). There, C expresses positive impact by reacting to the newsworthiness of F’s and W’s formulation. Reaction is commonly realized within two other parts of the lexicogrammar: Expletives and Attributes. Expletives express “attitude towards the exchange itself or the information being exchanged” (Martin et al. 1997: 67). In Ex. (7:4) and (7:5) C reacts to W’s utterances with the expletive wow. By uttering this expletive, C demonstrates to W that her formulation has a postive impact on him; that is, C demonstrates positive appreciation of W’s display of an alternative behaviour.

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 Chapter 7

(7:4) (AO8P4:6) 01 C: 02 03 W: 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 → 12 C: 13 14 15

=w what what does that op- what does that open up for you= =.hh aw gee:: it opens up so many things if if I .hh (.) y’know (0.8) I really studied my uh mys myself blessed a week or so .hh and what it does (0.8) what what has happened is that its given: .hh (0.8) people treat me differently now:: y’know like .hh the the they they say well look if you don’t to that’s fi::ne (1.5) [(yeah) ] [wow ] w w when for all this time what have you believed in what what would you have believed in the past would have happened

(7:5) (A08P4) 01 02 03 04 05 → 06 07 08 09 10 11

C:

[so so] j just those simple words did you say no:: [I am ] not going to do that= W: [ye::s ] W: =ye::s (1.0) C: wow I get a rush when I hear you say this ((F and W laugh)) C: folks I get this rush like uh this is [a ] (.) a change in direction= W: [well uh ]

Further reaction:impact is realized in lines 06 and 09 of Ex. (7:5). To demonstrate additional appreciation, C uses attributive relational clauses (i.e., I get a rush and I get this rush). Again, this shows how C is reacting to W’s formulation; that is, he gets a rush because of what W has said. Reaction:quality in counselling tends to be realized by attribution. In Ex. (7:6), lines 16 and 21, C positively reacts to W’s formulations by relating them to the attribute wonderful. Here, C demonstrates that he takes pleasure in the import of W’s formulations.

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Problem effacement 

(7:6) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 → 16 17 18 19 20 → 21 22

W: I: just feel [a tremen ]dous weight has been being lifted off me. C: [mhm ] C: mhm. W: an I I think that I’ve finally (0.8) with your help (0.8) C: you’re doing it. W: we::ll= C: =well I’m [helping we’re doing it together. ] W: [I can’t I can’t deal with ] .hh I: think that I’m finally I c’n see:: there’s a teeny little light at the end of the tunnel.= C: =oh that’s wonderful an this big black hole that people get into is [seamed ] W: [yeah ] C: with a light W: yeah. C: is wonderful. W: yeah.=

Another way of demonstrating appreciation of W’s formulation is by valuing its significance. What is being highlighted is not C’s emotional reaction to the formulation but the value or significance of the formulation itself. Valuation is realized in Ex. (7:5) by attributing W’s formulations with a change in direction. Basically, C positively values the formulation of events that oppose the problem. Another example of valuation is shown in line 34 below. Here, W’s claim that I c’n even afford tuh do this the wrong way? is valued by C as a breakthrough. (7:7) (A08P3) 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

C: F: C: F:

[you said I c’n even] afford tuh do this the wrong way?= =mhm= =you said that yourself this week? yeah (1.0) or I c’n: (.) I c’n do it over again if I did it wrong right (1.0) C: and you made a decision=

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 Chapter 7

29 F: =yeah 30 (1.5) 31 C: d’ya not see how this is32 d’ya not see 33 given what we talked about last week .hh → 34 how I might see as quite a breakthrough? 35 (.) 36 F: y’know I kind’ve do too

A final example of valuation is shown in Ex. (7:8). In this example, W uses behavioural (line 2) and relational (lines 07–08) clauses to describe how she stopped feeling depressed and confused. Recall that one of W’s problems identified by C in session 3 was feeling badly as a consequence of W’s speaking her mind. Therefore, W’s formulation of not feeling depressed after having spoken her mind (i.e., [jus] sto::p it) is a clear example of an alternative event. In line 17, C responds to W’s formulations by positively valuing it. C embeds his valuation within the Postmodifier of a nominal group (things [[that are stand out as significant]]), thereby attributing the quality significant to what W has just said. Following the valuation, C then reformulates by quoting W’s speech: I:: stopped (.) feeling and I stopped feeling depressed. Notice that here also, C recycles some of the intonation used by W, keeping linguistically close to W’s original formulation. (7:8) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

W: I I vuh verbally (1.0) d uh u::m:: god (1.0) I spoke it. [out ward. stop it. ] C: [uh huh. uh huh. ] W: [jus ] sto::p it. C: [uh huh ] C: mhm. W: a::n I sto::pped (.) feeling (.) depressed. (.) an I stopped feeling (1.0) uh confused. (0.8) an I got I ma- did something work in the kitchen or I:: did something went outside for a little while an .hh and uh felt good about that. I felt good enough about it .hh tuh tell Fred about it a couple’ve times. thet thet I had done that. C: okay uh I like tuh stop people

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Problem effacement 

→ 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34

W: C:

C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: W:

when they say things that are stand out as signifi [cant ]. [y(h)eah ] so you said I:: stopped (.) feeling (.) d’you hear what you’re saying. I stopped feeling depressed.= =yeah. I simply said STOP IT. yeah. (1.0) you really became assertive against the problem.= =mhm= =an you stopped feeling de [pressed. ] [yeah ] (1.5) I did.

In sum, the identification of alternative events in the problem effacement genre does not involve reformulations that abstract client formulations. Ideationally, this stage of problem effacement is not about reconstruing clients’ experiential reality. Instead, the counsellor does a lot of discursive work to maintain the quotedness of clients’ talk. Interpersonally, a number of differences between problem effacement and problem construction may also be seen. First, the counsellor positively evaluates client formulations. Furthermore, clients also produce narratives in which they name Complications and Resolutions and, in some cases, positively evaluate their ability to resolve their problems. Therefore, in terms of hierarchy, clients are moved up a few notches. Through narrative they become Agents who resolve problems, and their formulations of their experiential reality are no longer reconstrued by an expert third party.

. Alternative event and client agency Identifying alternative events and positively appreciating these events is the first step in effacing problems. Recall that in problem construction, problems were linguistically realized as Agents that cause client cognitions. In order to eliminate problems, two things must be done. First, problems must stop instigating client behaviour and second, clients must stop having the cognitions caused by

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 Chapter 7

the problem. This brings us to the second step in problem effacement. In these data, there were two ways in which problem agency was countered. One way of making problem agency disappear was to introduce a new Agent. The general candidates for agency were the identified alternative event or the client. For the former, new events rather than problematic events caused clients to do things. But, there was still the problem of client cognitions. One solution was to provide the client with new cognitions or ‘sensings’ caused by the alternative event. For the latter, clients instigated their own behaviour so there was no division between Participants that instigate and Participants that cogitate. Furthermore, it was found that the realization of new events was most often associated with clients’ ability and intention to enact the event and a beginning phase in which clients’ start to enact the event. In this way, the counsellor was able to construe the clients’ relationship to the new event in terms of potentiality, time-phase and intention. Finally, this stage of problem effacement involved C making explicit comparisons between old problem events and new alternative events formulated by the clients. These comparisons enabled the counsellor to emphasize the significance of the clients’ newly found behaviour. In describing the second stage of problem effacement, I first explore how new events and clients become realized as Agents. .. New Agents After having identified an alternative event that contrasts with the problem event, the counsellor was found to either construe the alternative event or the client as an Agent of positive behaviours. I first describe how alternative events become realized as Agents. ... Alternative events as Agents After clients’ alternative events become identified, they tend to become Agents that cause client ‘sensings’. In Ex. (7:9) C explores the range of ways in which an alternative event (i.e., no I’m going to do that) construes agency (agent in bold; cause in italics). It should be pointed out that alternative events become Participants in a different way than events become problems. Recall that problems are construed by C as nominalized events and are realized in the Head or Postmodifier of a nominal group. In this example, the alternative event is first referred to cataphorically by the pronoun this (line 06). Furthermore, what the pronoun refers to in line 06 is not a nominalization but a projected ‘fact’ clause (that able tuh say no I’m going to do that). Therefore, in problem effacement, pronominal reference is made to a clause or clause complex and not, as in prob-

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Problem effacement 

lem construction, to a reformulated and nominalized client formulation within a relational clause. (7:9) (A08P4) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29

C:

W: C: W: C: W: W: C:

=well lemme ask I’m wanna nI’m wanna know more about this cuz we’re not gonna now for another two weeks if that’s alright and I want to um know a little bit more this .hh what effect is um (.) is this having on y::ou:: an (.) your relationships u::m (.) that able tuh say no I’m going to do that (3.0) w(hh)ell(hh) I have I have mixed feelings about that still mhm .hh u::m (.) like is a little bit uncertain like how true is this. [yeah that kinda ] stuff [yea:::h ] yeah= =well let’s let’s look at the positive side of it if you don’t mind becuz (.) we c’n stay on the problem fer years an not go anywhere .hh uh (.) let’s uh look a little bit at hhh w what what is it um .hh telling you about yourself how does it have you feeling about who you are .hh what kind’ve u::m (.) avenues does it open up for you. (.) kay? help me tuh understand a little bit more about its impact on you

Five examples of agency occur in this excerpt (lines 06, 24, 25, 26, 29). In each case the Agent is realized by a pronoun referring to no I’m going to do that. More variation occurs in the realization of Cause. In the first and last instances, Cause is realized within a nominalized Process (i.e., effect on, impact on). Otherwise, Cause is realized as a Process (i.e., telling, have, open up). Most examples include a Medium that is realized by the pronoun you. Except for the third example

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 Chapter 7

Table 7.1 Experiential structure of causative constructions this what effect . . . on y::ou:: an (.) your (that able tuh say relationships no I’m going to do that) it

telling

you

what . . . about yourself

it

have

you

feeling about who you are .hh

it

open up

what kind’ve u::m (.) for you* avenues

its

impact on

you

Agent

Cause

Participant Event. . .

...

*beneficiary

(i.e., how does it have you feeling about who you are .hh), the event that the Agent brings about is left largely implicit. Therefore, the only explicit event involves a perceptive behavioural clause. An analysis of all five examples is shown in Table 7.1. In Ex. (7:10) the events that the Agent instigates are made explicit. Causative constructions occur in lines 08, 13, 19, 21, 32 and 35 and are always realized by analytic causatives (Agent + Cause in bold; event in italics). In every case except line 32, the event is a mental clause realized either by the affective mental Process appreciate or the perceptive mental Processes recognize and perspective (nominalized). Here also, the first realization of agency occurs in a similar fashion to Ex. (7:9) above. The alternative event in line 06, separating out yourself from the problem, is realized by a ß-clause and is transformed into an Agent in line 08. Once again, reference occurs, anaphorically this time, to a clause and not to a nominalization (in separating out yourself from the problem ← that). (7:10) (A08P6) 01 W: I can refer tuh the problem 02 an .hh an Fred reminds me:: too. 03 he ha- i the he has a problem as we::ll 04 that there is a pro:blem the:re. .hh 05 so I am able to:: refer to (.) the problem. 06 C: in [separating out ] yourself from the problem 07 W: [( ) ]

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Problem effacement 

→ 08 09 10 11 12 → 13 14 15 16 17 18 → 19 20 → 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 → 32 33 34 → 35 → 36 37 38 39

C:

W: C:

W:

C: W: C: W: C: W:

C: W:

C: W:

has that allowed you tuh have a different perspective on yourself? (.)a mo::re a less problematic perspective. (2.5) .hh p(hhhhhhhh) I don’t know at this point I don’t know. ha has it allowed you to appreciate yourself. (.) in wa::ys tha::t u::m maybe you couldn’t before you thought you and the problem were the same. (3.5) I think that what its do:ne is i its its allowed me tuh recognize that (.) that I:: am (.) not the problem. (1.0) its allowed me tuh recognize that uh (1.5) that u::h (3.5) uh I have I haf to:: .hh (1.0) I haf to re-I I I I I I I don’t know how tuh say this [exactly. ] (2.0) u::m (.) .hh (1.0) [mhm ] I don’t know if I like myself any mo::re? (1.0) or any less. mhm than I did before? mhm. .hh um an I don’t know if if (.) separating the problem from myself .hh has helped me? mhm. take care’ve me. .hh what its done is allowed me to recognize that there is this pro:blem. mhm. .hh a::nd (.) I am not it.

Six examples of analytic causatives occur in this excerpt, two from C and four from W. These are shown in Table 7.2. In most cases, the Agent, separating out yourself from the problem, is realized by the pronoun that or it; the only exception occurs in the fifth instance in which the Agent is realized as a nominalization (i.e., separating the problem from myself.). Cause is realized by the processes allowed or helped, the one being instigated by the pronoun you or me – depending on whether it is C’s or W’s clause – and the Process is mental

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 Chapter 7

Table 7.2 Experiential structure of analytic causatives (separating out yourself from the problem) that

allowed

you

tuh have a different perspective

it

allowed

you

to appreciate

it

allowed

me

tuh recognize

it

allowed

me

tuh recognize

separating the problem from myself.

has helped

me*

take care

it

allowed

me

to recognize

Agent

Cause

Participant

Process

*Agent

except for take care, which is material. Three further observations are worth noting. The first is how W orients to C’s causatives. C’s first causative involves a nominalized perceptive mental Process (perspective) and his second an affective mental Process (appreciate). One might have expected W to orient to the most recent causative by reformulating its agency in terms of an affective mental process (what she appreciates). Instead, W selects the perceptive mental Process recognize and ties her turns to C’s first causative; that is, she formulates her different perspectives rather than her new appreciation of herself. The second point is that, unlike problem construction, C and W are realizing agency in terms of how Agents instigate perceptions and emotions rather than cognitions. Whereas the Agency of problems influenced clients’ thinking, alternative events involve making clients perceive and feel differently and positively. Finally, the causative Processes are different from those used in problem construction. Causative verbs such as allow and help also realize ability (see Halliday 1994: 287). Therefore, alternative events not only instigate positive perceptions, but they also act interpersonally by enabling the client to act in new ways. ... Client as Agent Another way of eradicating the agency of problems is by making clients the sole Agent of events. An example of client agency is shown in Ex. (7:11). C and W are discussing session four in which W had a positive day. In that session, W claimed that she was able to say no without feeling that she was letting others down. In session 6, C questions W about what caused that positive day during session 4. Here, the positive day is the alternative event that contrasts with other

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Problem effacement

(not positive) days in which W is letting others down or feeling badly. So, rather than focusing on what the positive day causes, C focuses on how W causes the positive day. In lines 24–26, W is realized as the Agent of that positive day (agent + process in bold; event in italics). (7:11) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 → 24 → 25 → 26 27 28 29 30

C:

W: C: W: C: W:

C: W:

C:

.hh but I wonder about that day that you uh had that positive day? (.) wuz that a day in which the problem wuz stronger than you or you were stronger than it. (1.2) I think I wuz stronger than the problem that day. what are you thinking about. (0.8) uh(hh)uh (1.0) there’s nothing interesting involved here. (.) it wuz a positive day:: I remember it clearly. (.) becuz I left an I wuz happy:: an I wus:: that wuz a sun shine day.= =yeah it wuz yeah. an I want more’ve those .hh I have had some day::s where I’ve been I’ve been pretty (0.8) happy? (.) mhm.= =I’m rea::lly curious about how you made that made that happen for yourself. (0.8) how you made that positively happen. .hh now i i i i maybe we don’t kno::w exactly what s:tarted it. (.) do you have a sense about uh when you first noticed that the day wuz a positive day.



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 Chapter 7

.. Social esteem From an experiential perspective, new events and behaviours were described as instigating alternative (and preferred) feelings and perceptions. This marked a shift in how clients were construing experience and the agents involved in influencing these construals; that is, the problem was no longer influencing the clients’ lives. Differences, however, were also noted with respect to interpersonal meanings; that is, clients were also able to enact and negotiate their lives and social relationships in novel ways. In particular, the occurrence of new events was most often associated with ability, time-phase and intention. The lexicogrammatical realizations of these three semantic constructs tend to be realized in verbal group complexes, especially in the primary group that carries the Mood of the clause. Halliday (1994: 279–281) argues that timephase is associated with starting, stopping and duration. Within verbal group complexes, common realizations are starts/begins/ceases to do X. Potentiality involves modality and is associated with ability. Common realizations are can/ able to do X. Intention is generally associated with mental Processes, as for example intend/decide/resolve/choose to do X. These are verbal group complexes and not clause complexes since, as Halliday (1994: 291) argues, they “. . . are proposals, are perfective in aspect, and have the same subject in both halves.” I propose that all three types of meaning are closely aligned to modality. Ability is perhaps the easiest to illustrate. Halliday (1994: 359) argues that realizations such as can/can’t, be able to and it is possible for. . . should be subsumed under the more general category of ‘readiness.’ Further, realizations such as can seem to conflate aspects of potentiality and inclination. For these reasons, Halliday considers these to be on the fringe of the modality system. Intention, as in choosing to listen, seems to align most closely with inclination. Recall that inclination refers to determination or the degree of wanting to do something. Thus, to choose could be placed at the high-end of modulation in which the speaker demonstrates a strong inclination to do. Time-phase, on the other hand, associates most readily with usuality. If an alternative behaviour is begun, it is most likely done with low frequency. Although these semantic constructs are not direct representations of modality, especially the latter two, they are topologically associated with modality; that is, intention implies inclination and time-phase implies usuality. In sum, clients draw from three kinds of interpersonal resources in problem effacement: Time-Phase, ability and intention. In the first, client behaviour is reformulated in terms of time-phase; clients stop doing problematic social actions and begin doing alternative, positive actions. The second resource, ability,

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Problem effacement 

centres around clients’ potential. Clients become able to do new and positive events. Finally, intention is cast in terms of clients’ resolve in bringing new and positive events about; that is, client actions are not just instigated by external events; clients themselves choose these courses of action. On a final note, the non-finite tense of the verbal group complexes is irrealis. Halliday (1994: 278) claims that irrealis (e.g., to do) realizes future action. In problem effacement the future action refers to the alternative positive behaviours that clients start, can and choose to do. Therefore, in problem effacements, actions are futureoriented. This is in contrast to problem construction in which problem events are realized in realis (e.g., letting other down), referring to on-going present behaviours. What these interpersonal resources also demonstrate is an alternative attitude towards behaviours. In other words, clients are able to appraise, or better, judge their behaviour in ways that were not evident upon entering counselling. A link between modality and judgement was proposed in the work of Iedema et al. (1994). They argued that ability aligns with potentiality (how capable someone is), usuality with normality (how special someone is) and inclination with tenacity (how resolute or dependable someone is). Taken together, these three judgement systems involve social esteem, and refer to positive or negative attitudes that speakers have concerning someone’s character. The clients in narrative counselling, for instance, developed more positive judgements concerning their character; they become more capable, resolute and ‘special’. Furthermore, I propose that each of the appraisal resources be aligned with the kinds of interpersonal resources outlined above; that is, potentiality is realized in ability, tenacity in intention, and normality in time-phase. The next three sub-sections provide examples of each of these semantic constructs in problem effacement. ... Potentiality: Ability An example of potentiality can be seen in Ex. (7:12). Prior to this excerpt, W provided an instance in which she had declined a request (i.e., said no) from her family. In 01 C orients to W’s new behaviour by asking what possibilities this new behaviour creates: what does that open up for you. The Process open up realizes causality, making the pronoun that the Agent that instigates implied events. Further, I suggest that open up is the first instance of potentiality, because by opening up, opportunities for new or alternative action are created. This process, therefore, could be seen as a metaphorical realization of ability; more congruent forms would be allow or enable such that opening up possibilities is agnate to allowing or enabling new events.

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 Chapter 7

(7:12) (AO8P4:6) → 01 C: → 02 → 03 W: 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 C: 13 14 15 16 W: 17 18 19

=w what what does that op- what does that open up for you= =.hh aw gee:: it opens up so many things if if I .hh (.) y’know (0.8) I really studied my uh mys myself blessed a week or so .hh and what it does (0.8) what what has happened is that its given: .hh (0.8) people treat me differently now:: y’know like .hh the the they they say well look if you don’t to that’s fi::ne (1.5) [(yeah) ] [wow ] w w when for all this time what have you believed in what what would you have believed in the past would have happened .hh well I hafta do it (1.0) well ke Wendy Sue’ll do it (0.8) well I’ll just phone Wendy Sue an she’ll do it . . . 39 C: =yes yes okay. .hh um okay 40 so wow I’m just uh feeling bowled over here 41 u::m Wendy Sue I can imagine 42 how you must be feeling 43 uh .hh uh scrambling the sense to all this [uh ] 44 W: [yes ] 45 C: there’re so many changes happening (.) so quickly 46 an positive ones there too. .hh 47 so kay so I I’m very interested in this idea 48 that I’m not the problem. (.) → 49 that must be very freeing for you .hh → 50 so you’re able to:: (.) say to people (1.0) 51 no I don’t want tuh do that 52 an they’re not saying 53 you hafta do it 54 they’re saying (.)

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55 56

okay (.) that’s fine. you’re seeing people different[ly]

Throughout this excerpt, changes are highlighted. W for instance claims that people treat me differently now:: and C, in lines 12–15, offers up a contrast between what is happening now in the present and what would have happened in the past. Most importantly, C makes change and the potential for change an integral part of his reformulations. Lines 45, 49 and 50 contain examples such as “there’re so many changes happening”, “that must be very freeing for you” and “so you’re able to:: (.) say to people.” Here, reformulation begins with an existential clause that emphasizes the quantity of changes occurring. Following this is an attributive clause in which an idea is claimed to be capable of freeing W of something; and finally, W is positioned, through the expansion of a verbal clause, as being able to verbalize a specific locution. Change, opening up, freeing and ability all work together to construct a semantics of potentiality. Furthermore, this potentiality is aligned with movement away from and the effacement of problems. Another example of potentiality is provided below. This example shows how ability and constraint are semantically intertwined; that is, the ability to do something is tied to the freedom to act. In line 16 W’s statement of freedom (i.e., I want to be:: (.) free of of tha:t) is followed by a statement of ability (i.e., an I wanted jus tuh be able tuh be honest with myself.). This juxtapositioning of freedom and ability is also found in C’s reformulation of lines 26–33. Here, C begins with W’s ability (i.e., your ability to escape the problem) and then turns to the problem’s tendency to constrain clients (i.e., they don’t w:ant tuh let you go. and problems hold on to people.). In the last three lines C shifts the semantics back to W’s ability. In sum, potentiality is realized both in terms of W’s ability to act and the problem’s restriction of W’s ability. (7:13) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

C:

t(.hh) so which Wendy Sue:: wuz wuz allowed tuh be brought out’ve didjew bring out (.) when you saw when you craved this distance between you an the problem. (2.5) W: hhhhh (1.0) u:::h don’t know. hih heh C: what d’ya mean you (.) ((bangs twice on chair)) (.) W: y::eah.= C: =pluncked your hand there on the chair

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 Chapter 7

→ → →

→

→ → → → → → → →

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

what were you tryin tuh sig [nify? ] (.) W: [y::eah ] C: what wuz your hand saying.= W: =well I think that I wuz try::ing to say:: that uh (0.8) look jus just u::h (1.0) I want to be:: (.) free of of tha:t an I wanted jus tuh be able tuh be honest with myself. C: mhm. (1.5) W: I I I: wanted (0.8) want to:: be able to:: .hh believe what I’m saying? (1.5) a::nd uh (5.0) uh(hh)huh= C: =I think its really important tuh stress the significance of your ability to escape the problem that day. (0.8) my uh my uh my:: experience with problems is is that they don’t (.) they don’t w:ant tuh let you go. (1.0) ih thi thi problems hold on to people. (.) I I’m just curious about you’re able to do this. an how you’re able tuh keep it going an what does it signify about what’s possible for you.

As exemplified in lines 18, 21, 31 and 32, potentiality is often realized in the verbal group complex. However, as lines 26 and 33 show, potentiality also has other realizations. In the former, potentiality is nominalized (i.e., your ability) and in the latter it appears as a quality (i.e., possible). ... Normality: Time-phase Time-phase is another interpersonal resource that C and the clients utilize in problem effacement; in particular, time-phase is used in order to construct the clients as having done something special, extraordinary or beyond the normal everyday kind of things that they do. Most central here is the starting and stopping of behaviours. There are three main ways in which time-phase is coupled with alternative events. First, clients begin to loosen the problem’s grip. Second, client’s stop doing problem-instigated behaviours. And third, clients start to do alternate behaviours. An example of moving away from problems is shown below. In lines 14–17 C reformulates W’s formulation of lines 03–08 by asking how she started tuh let go of that or lose that. In these lines, W identifies being

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Problem effacement 

more positive with potentiality in which she is able to:: uh (.) say yes er no . . . . In this way, W formulates a new event that opposes past problem events such as feeling badly or letting others down. Notice that C’s first use of time-phase in line 14 positions the problem as starting some event (i.e., “wha what did the problem start tuh do”). C’s reformulations in lines 15–17 then cast W, instead of the problem, as initiating a behaviour in which she lets go of or loses problem-instigated behaviour. (7:14) (A08P6)

→ → → →

01 C: 02 03 W: 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 C: 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

uh huh what does more positive mean to you. (1.0) more positive means u::m (1.0) u::h (3.5) being able to:: w uh (3.0) ( ).hh (.) being able to:: uh (.) say yes er no. an mean it. (1.0) an believe it. (1.0) not just say it becuz somebody else wants tuh hear it. (2.0) saying yes er no an believing it. (3.5) mhm. (4.0) .hh so wha happened. uh how did the um (.) .hh wha what did the problem start tuh do or how did you start tuh let how did you how did you start tuh let go of that or lose that.

When clients start to move away from problems, they eventually stop being influenced by them. Taking another look at Ex. (7:8) also reveals how the semantics of time-phase realized in verbal group complexes plays a role in problem effacement. In lines 07–08 W claims that she sto::pped (.) feeling (.) depressed., which is the equivalent of saying that she is no longer influenced by feeling badly. In lines 21, 23, 31, C reformulates W’s clause no less than three times, keeping W’s original intonation virtually intact. By doing so, C positively appraises and hence demonstrates the significance of W’s stopping the behaviour of feeling badly. Note that the non-finite tense of the secondary verbal group (i.e, feeling) is ‘realis’, which is not surprising since the behaviour being stopped refers to past problem events.

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 Chapter 7

(7:8) (A08P6)

→ →

→ →

→

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

W: I I vuh verbally (1.0) d uh u::m:: god (1.0) I spoke it. [out ward. stop it. ] C: [uh huh. uh huh. ] W: [jus ] sto::p it. C: [uh huh ] C: mhm. W: a::n I sto::pped (.) feeling (.) depressed. (.) an I stopped feeling (1.0) uh confused. (0.8) an I got I ma- did something work in the kitchen or I:: did something went outside for a little while an .hh and uh felt good about that. I felt good enough about it .hh tuh tell Fred about it a couple’ve times. thet thet I had done that. C: okay uh I like tuh stop people when they say things that are stand out as signifi [cant ]. W: [y(h)eah ] C: so you said I:: stopped (.) feeling (.) d’you hear what you’re saying. C: I stopped feeling depressed.= W: =yeah. C: I simply said STOP IT. W: yeah. (1.0) C: you really became assertive against the problem.= W: =mhm= C: =an you stopped feeling de [pressed. ] W: [yeah ]

The stopping of old problematic behaviours often coincides with or makes way for the start of new and positive behaviours. Consider again, Ex. (7:6) in which the discussion centres around W’s recent instance of saying no. Phase recurs throughout this excerpt in terms of W beginning a new behaviour. For instance, in lines 02 and 08, W uses the adverb finally to indicate the beginning of something. In these contexts, finally does not imply a final or end-state but

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Problem effacement 

a new state as in “at last, I can. . . ”. Beginnings are also realized metaphorically as in a teeny little light at the end of the tunnel in line 09 and this big black hole that people get into is [seamed] with a light in line 11. These examples both imply the start phase of eradicating the problem: seeing a teeny little light or a big black hole . . . [seamed] with a light suggests that the client is on her way to new positive behaviours that are not instigated by problems. Lastly, time-phase is realized through verbal expansion in line 19: an now you’re startin tuh see that light. Here, startin tuh see is an explicit grammatical realization of phase that reformulates the previous instances of time-phase articulated by W and C. (7:6) (AO8P6) →

→ → →

→

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

W: an I I think that I’ve finally (0.8) with your help (0.8) C: you’re doing it. W: we::ll= C: =well I’m [helping we’re doing it together. ] W: [I can’t I can’t deal with ] .hh I: think that I’m finally I c’n see:: there’s a teeny little light at the end of the tunnel.= C: =oh that’s wonderful an this big black hole that people get into is [seamed ] W: [yeah ] C: with a light W: yeah. C: is wonderful. W: yeah.= C: =I know people who never see that light. W: right.= C: =an now you’re startin tuh see that light. how c’n you make that light bigger. (1.0) W: o::h its its goin tuh take some ti::me right? [an]

Time-phase is also related to potentiality. If the client starts to see/do X, then the client also acquires a potential to see/do X. In lines 08, both phase and potentiality co-occur. By uttering finally I c’n see::, W combines her ability to see with the inception of seeing. Similarly, after having introduced time-phase in line 19, C then shifts to ability by asking how the light can be made bigger. In

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 Chapter 7

sum, the semantics of both types of verbal group expansion work in tandem to construct talk about effacing the problem or moving to an alternate behaviour. ... Tenacity: Intention Intention is another type of interpersonal resource in problem effacement often realized by the verbal group complex. As previsouly argued, intention relates to inclination, which, in turn, realizes an attitude of tenacity. By expressing intentions, clients construct themselves as resolutely leaving problems behind them, and moving towards new alternative forms of action. Intention builds upon time-phase and potentiality. In addition to starting alternative behaviours and being able to do them, clients also intend to do them; that is, they select or choose them. In the example below C has identified an alternative event to F’s lecturing style in which F listens to W rather than lecturing her. Intention is realized in lines 18, 20, 21 and 24 by cho::se. Here C claims that F cho::se t- to listen to W when the situation was urgent enough to call for it. (7:15) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 → 18 19 → 20 → 21 22 23

F: well with Wendy Sue:: its uh I I usually only do it .hh when she’s really:: y’know distraught er rea:lly (.) like oh (.) its time tuh shut up an listen. (1.0) [a::h maybe I could do that ] more o::f [ten. ] C: [the the fact that you don’t do ] [I:: ]’m wondering about that like ih becuz you’ve made the interpretation that she now she’s urgent (.) or now there’s something going on you haf to lis [ten to. ] F: [it’s the] deadline right? C: yeah. F: thet if I’m [in a ] deadline.= C: [yeah ] C: =yeah.= F: =now I’ve gotta do it right.= C: =yeah. but you don’tI mean you:: cho [::se ] (.) F: [m ] C: you cho::se t- to listen. (0.8) you cho::se. I mean you’ll make the interpretation that this wuz an urgent situation

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Problem effacement 

→ 24 an now you chose to listen. .hh 25 why couldn’t you ex::te:nd that (.) to 26 other circumstances. (1.5) even non urgent ones.= 27 F: =m

At this point it is worthwhile re-examining the inter-relationships between these three types of modal meanings. I have already suggested that they enact attitudes of personal judgement, in which clients construct themselves as special, capable and resolute. But these resources also seem to tie into agency. By moving from time-phase to potentiality to intention, C keeps adding on agency. At the low end of the agency scale, time-phase, agency is fairly nonexistent. “startin tuh see that light” does not imply that a perception is being instigated. Somewhat more agency could be implied with potentiality, or at least a potential for agency. W’s ability to say no I don’t want tuh do that could be construed as a potential for self-instigating a refusal (realized by the verbal Process of saying no). Moving further along, intention seems to imply deliberate choice. So, F’s choosing to listen to W implies an agency of sorts in that F is selecting an alternative action over another (i.e., he could have chose otherwise). It could be that agency is the incorrect semantic construct to bind these three. Perhaps these are differences in intention, not agency. Nonetheless, these semantic constructs fall along some kind of gradient, whether agency or intention, but further investigation is required to explore the intricacies of these semantics. .. Contrasting old & new events In effacing problems, it was found that clients formulate alternative events to problem events and that C reformulates and positively appraises these new events. The relationship between new positive events and old problem events seems to be omnipresent in this stage. In some cases, C draws particular attention to the relationship between old and new events. Consider Ex. (7:16). (7:16) (A08P4) → 01 C: 02 03 04 → 05 06 07

=.hh there could’ve been times over the last few weeks where you could’ve said yes I’m going to do that o::r yes I am the problem but you chose tuh think of yourself differently (1.0) can you help me to understand how you’ve been able to sa::y no I’m not going to do that

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08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 → 18 19 20 21

(2.5) W: I think that I just wanna be my own se::lf (1.0) C: so y- so [you’re sa::ying a person that ] W: [I think that I just I ] don’t want to carry .hh the responsibilities that my problem has created for me over all of these years (1.0) C: hh are you saying then. that the person that the problem has created for you is not the kind of person that you choose to be (2.0) W: that’s true

In lines 01–04, C begins his turn by introducing past problem events (i.e., yes I’m going to do that o::r yes I am the problem). In lines 05–07, C contrasts this ‘old’ behaviour with formulations in which W is associated with new intentions and cognitions (i.e., but you chose tuh think of yourself differently) and verbalizations (i.e., you’ve been able to sa::y no I’m not going to do that) – Note that contrast is realized through the paratactic marker but. C also contrasts behaviours within an identifying relational clause, as shown in lines 18–19, in which C contrasts problem agency (i.e., the person that the problem has created for you) with W’s intention (i.e., the kind of person that you choose to be). In other words, the person created by the problem is not identifiable with W’s choice of person. Therefore, although problem agency is referred to in problem effacement, this is not done to explore the problem’s impact on clients; rather it is to contrast what was or is (realis) with what will be (irrealis). In sum, problem effacement places, in contrast to problem construction, a different set of ideational and interpersonal meanings at risk. Ideationally, problem effacement does not involve counsellor’s reconstrual of clients’ experiential reality by abstracting clients’ formulations. However, the ideational meaning potential of alternative events is considerable expanded, since alternative events are construed as Agents. Interpersonally, clients gain status because they become construed as Agents of positive behaviours and, moreover, they become capable of enacting their social identity in new ways that involve tenacity, capability and ‘extraordinary’ behaviours. In addition, clients also formulate narratives in which they are realized as Agents who resolve prob-

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Problem effacement 

lems. In terms of power relationships, clients are much more in control of their experiential and social world.

. Negotiating the ‘goals’ of problem effacement In this section I attempt to illustrate, as I did for problem construction, whether any movement out of the problem effacement genre is oriented to by the interactants. For example, those points in narrative counselling where it should be expected that alternative behaviours will be identified or client agency will be construed should sequentially implicate a response from the interactants if these stages of problem effacement are not realized. These kinds of orientations, or reactions, to movements out of a genre also give some insight into the degree of goal-directedness of the counselling approach. If, for example, counsellors do not ‘intervene’ in interactional contexts where clients could have, but do not, construe themselves as Agents, then it could be argued that the counsellor is not very directive, or that Client Agency does not comprise a stage in that counselling approach. Therefore, to identify the stages of a genre, it is important not only to recognize patterns of linguistic resources at risk, but to recognize instances when the pattern is not realized, and whether the speakers take note of that absence. An instance in which W moves out of the genre of problem effacement is shown in Ex. (7:17). This excerpt occurs in session 4, after a number of alternative behaviours have been identified. (7:17) (A08P4) 01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13

so. what what I wanna get outa here is (0.8) w(hh)hat’s behind this (.) no I’m not goin tuh do that. no I am not the problem? .hh no I’m not going to fret. yes I c’n trust Fred. (1.0) I want tuh know a little bit more about uh h(hh)ow did you come (.) tuh take the steps tuh do this. eh any one of them whichever one of these is most important to you. I’m not the problem or I’m not goin tuh do that

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 Chapter 7

→ → →

→ →

→

→

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14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

W:

C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: C: W: W: C:

W: C:

or .hh how did you c- how did you prepare yoursdid you prepare yourself for this or did suddenly just (hh)happen one morning that you d that you .hh [came tuh see things differently ] [I think I don’t ] think that I prepared myself for that .hh and an I can’t dismiss the fact that other therapy:: (.) has helped. to a certain degree. [.hh ] um (1.5) [uh huh ] becuz certainly part’ve .hh of my life has always been (h)eh doing things for other people uh huh we’re not talking not [doing ] things [no ] for other people anymore .hh [what ] we’re talking about is you having the choice [.hh ] [no ] [yes ] tuh do what you want tuh do= =yes= =yeah? .hh somehow along [the way ]. somewhere in [hhhhhhh ] the last three weeks yeah (0.8) you started tuh turn things around ye [::s ] [there ] there’s no doubt this is a this is a [change of pace ] [but I did that a lot ] with Fred’s help (0.8) oh fine. that’s w- that’s wonderful [that’s ] even better [( ) ] yes= =I’m just curious about h(hh)ow you were able to to you hafta be willing tuh take it on tuh do it. .hh you hafta believe something else about the problem that you in some way can beat [it ] [well ] I think that what I what I .hh started looking at mhm

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Problem effacement 

In lines 01–06 C uses an identifying relational clause to reformulate W’s past formulations of alternative events (i.e., no I’m not goin tuh do that., no I am not the problem? .hh, no I’m not going to fret., yes I c’n trust Fred.). Moreover, the Token of this identifying clause (i.e., w(hh)hat’s behind this (.) . . . ) metaphorically realizes Cause; that is, claiming that something is behind alternative events such as no I’m not goin tuh do that implies that there is an Agent causing these events. In the subsequent lines, C suggests two possible Agents: In 07–09 and 14–15, C casts W as the Agent of these events by making W the Participant of the Processes come (.) tuh take the steps tuh do and prepare; and in 12–13 the enabling force is W’s formulation of an alternative event (i.e., I’m not the problem or I’m not goin tuh do that). As a final step C constrasts W’s agency (or the agency of her formulation) with a ‘happening’ in which W’s coming tuh see things differently is not instigated by an external Agent, but merely occurs. C enables W to respond in three differnet ways. She can claim agency, she can suggest an external Agent or she can suggest that the new behaviour merely happened. W responds by not adequately orienting to any of these options. First, in lines 18–19, W denies having agency (i.e., I think I don’t think that I prepared myself for that); then, in the next lines, W proposes an external Agent (i.e., other therapy::). However, this Agent can hardly be taken up as a legitimate Agent since, if W’s other therapy is helping her to engage in positive behaviours, what relevance does couples counselling have? In line 23, W makes matters worse by reverting to Problem Identification (i.e., becuz certainly part’ve .hh of my life has always been (h)eh doing things for other people). Here, W identifies the problem, doing things for other people, with my life. Basically, C’s attempt at problem effacement in which he tried to get W to identify the Agent of her alternative behaviours has failed. What C then does in the following turn is bring the conversation back to problem effacement. In doing so, C first bluntly contradicts W’s formulation of problem identification (i.e., we’re not talking not doing things for other people anymore). C makes clear that the ‘aboutness’ of counselling is no longer centred around problems. Then in lines 28 and 37, C reintroduces agency through the following material clauses: you having the choice [.hh] tuh do what you want tuh do and you started tuh turn things around. In the former clause, agency is associated with intention (i.e., choice) and in the latter with time-phase (i.e., started). In this way, C makes W the Agent who chooses and starts alternate behaviours. At numerous points W ratifies C’s reformulation of W’s agency (lines 29, 35, 38) and even, in line 41, shares this agency with F (i.e., but I did that a lot with Fred’s help). In effect, C & W have successfully moved back into the genre of problem effacement. In line 43, C positively appreciates W’s ratification of her agency (along with F)

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 Chapter 7

and continues, in lines 46 onwards, by exploring W’s potential in conquering the problem. Although C will make many attempts to move the clients back into the preferred genre, it does not always work. For instance, session five should have been devoted to problem effacement. However, because W and F had a fight just prior to session five, most of the session centred around problem construction in which two problems – you being wrong and a victim kind’ve role – were identified. Nonetheless, towards the end of the session, W begins to shift into problem effacement by indicating that she had on a few occasions said (0.8) no. (.) an I felt good about that. This formulation marks a shift in genre because it contrasts with the problem behaviour of “feeling badly after W speaks her mind”; In fact, W has produced the first step in problem effacement, identifying alternative events. In line 12, C immediately postively reacts to W’s formulation (i.e., h oh you have.). In addition, he formulates his preference for returning to this stage in counselling (i.e., they are the things I prefer tuh talk about). (7:18) (A08P5)

→ → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

W: there were some incidents that it happened? (.) where I hed said no::.(.) an I felt good about that.= C: =mhm (0.8) W: u::m (1.5) C: mhm= W: =since then there have there have been a couple of times .hh where I have also said (0.8) no. (.) an I felt good about that. C: h oh you have. u [wha wha ] uh [there they are the ] W: [yes ] [one of the things?] C: things I prefer tuh talk [about but I ] [y’see ] my parents sixtieth wedding anniversary is happening this year C: mhm

Problem effacement marks the final genre of the narrative counselling interview. Logogenetically, the counselling sessions examined moved, at a most general level, from constructing problems to effacing them. More specifically,

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Problem effacement 

problems were first identified and construed as Agents of client cognitions. Subsequently, alternative events that countered the problem were identified and these events or the clients themselves were construed as the Agents of positive behaviours. The way in which this process unfolded was teleological. Problems are to be identified and externalized so that they may be eliminated. This process of problem formation and elimination revolves centrally around transforming clients’ experiential and social reality. Ideationally, clients experiential worlds are reconstrued (i.e., reformulated) so that they gain alternative perspectives of their lives and relationships. Once clients can adequately construct the problem, they can take further steps to de-construct it. In other words, through counselling, clients develop new ways of talking, they develop semiotically. In this way, counselling logogenesis provides the materials for client ontogenesis.

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Chapter 8

Clients’ semiotic repertoires Ontogenesis

. Overview In SFL’s model of semogenesis, logogenesis (or textual unfolding) provides the material for ontogenesis, the semiotic development of the individual. The last three chapters have outlined the logogenetic unfolding of problems. To recapitulate, clients’ negative judgements of behaviour are reformulated via identifying relational clauses as abstract ‘things.’ These things (often consisting of embedded clauses), in turn, become realized as Agents that instigate client cognitions. Two stages important for realizing problems are identifying problem events and imbuing these events with agency. These two steps outline problem construction, the first genre of the narrative counselling interview. Following this is a second genre, problem effacement, in which clients formulate alternative events that contrast with problem events. As in problem construction, these alternative events are realized as Agents. However, it is not just client cognitions that these new events instigate but client emotions and perceptions. Furthermore, clients are also construed as Agents and are associated with the interpersonal meanings of potentiality, inclination and (un)usuality. Taking these two genres together, it was shown that the logogenetic unfolding of problems is realized in specific language patterns. Once an account of logogenesis is provided, the dimensions of ontogenesis can be explored; that is, with this description of the unfolding of the counselling process, we can begin to say something about how clients’ semiotic repertoires have developed. In general, an examination of the link between logogenesis and ontogenesis will provide insights into social processes and socialization and their semiotic realizations. In terms of counselling, insight into the narrative counselling process and the impact that this process has on clients is gained. In terms of counselling theory, the question that preoccupies much of process research – how does the counselling process relate to client change – becomes more transparent.

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 Chapter 8

The narrative counselling interview is oriented to ‘helping’ clients, and, moreover, this goal is found consistently across the spectrum of counselling approaches. My research contributes to this goal by illustrating how helping clients is firmly rooted in semiotic realizations and transformations or semogenesis. Claiming that ontogenesis is realized in counselling suggests that clients’ selections of semiotic resources change over the course of counselling. Furthermore, client change is integrally associated with the unfolding of the counselling process; in other words, client ontogenesis is realized by the logogenesis of counselling. Problems, their identification, their agency and their effacement form some of the central components of narrative counselling logogenesis. These resources used to talk about problems, in turn, provide the materials for clients to talk about everyday events and the causes of these events. The first step in client ontogenesis involves clients’ learning to construe ‘problems’ in semiotically differentiated ways. Clients learn to externalize the problem, which means construing problems in a range of Participant roles such as Value, Agent or Sayer (commander). In Chapter 4 I suggested that client learning is achieved by way of a pedagogic process; in particular, clients’ meaning making ability is driven by what Bernstein (1990, 1996) refers to as a pedagogic discourse. A pedagogic discourse consists of a regulative register that projects an instructional register. Regulation occurs thoughout the counselling macro-genre and is principally achieved by counsellor’s reformulations of clients’ formulations and counsellor’s questions that elicit specific client responses. Through regulation of this kind, counsellors are able to instruct clients on how to talk about problems. Regulation, therefore, frames client ontogenesis, the way in which clients develop semiotically. Bernstein’s proposal that regulation frames instruction (or projects using SFL terminology) has interesting implications for the role of the metafunctions in the pedagogic, or change, process. Regulation, I have argued, corresponds to tenor, whereas instruction corresponds to Field. From this perspective, the interpersonal features of social contexts (i.e., status/ hierarchy, contact, emotion, social relationships) will influence the ideational features of social contexts (i.e., social activity and subject matter). This motif that interpersonal meaning drives forward a learner’s meaning potential is also found in the work of Painter (2003, in press). From her research on child development, Painter (2003: 206) argued that “. . . sharing attitude has a crucial role to play in language development more generally, including apparently ideational areas such as causal relations and generalizations. . . .” It seems that, in narrative counselling, what drove client ontogenesis forward was the externalizing of the problem. As M. White (1995: 23) explains:

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Clients’ semiotic repertoires

Through externalizing conversations, the problem is to an extent disempowered, as it not longer speaks to persons of the truth about who they are as people, or about the very nature of their relationships. This opens up new possibilities for action. In the evolution of these externalizing conversations, persons continue to revise their relationship with their problem.

In Ex. (8:1) C reports this narrative aim to the clients by emphasizing that in here the person isn’t the problem .hh the problem is the problem. (8:1) (A08P2) 01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 W: 10 C: 11 → 12 → 13

yeah an what I’ll try tuh do is they won’t be as long next time I’ll try maybe to make it smaller and ask some questions the idea is to .hh to be able to open up space what we call therapeutic space. space for people to experience themselves .hh and the other person differently [.hh ] [mhm ] and that somehow or other we’re we’re withheld from doing that because of the problem (0.8) so in here the person isn’t the problem .hh the problem is the problem yeah?

For both of these clauses in lines 12–13, the Value is realized by the problem. What differs is the Token, which in the former is the person and in the latter is the problem. Further, in the former, the person is identified by who she is not rather than by who she is. The second clause appears to be a tautology. But if we examine these two clauses more closely, we see that the latter clause is an extension of the former and, in this way, is made to contrast with the former. Through this contrast, the tautolotical meaning disappears, since these clauses together are cautioning the clients against making incorrect relationships of identification. The problem is the problem, just as the person is the person; from C’s perspective, there is no need to identify anything else as being the problem. The point of identifying what the person or the problem is/ is not concerns externalization. If the person (i.e., client) is viewed as the problem, there is a strong possibility that clients will consider themselves, rather than an external (problem) Agent, as the instigators of problematic events. Identifying the problem and not the client as the problem renders this reading less likely. It may help to illustrate this point in terms of clause grammar. If the client and the



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 Chapter 8

problem are non-equal, they can occupy different Participant roles. If the person and the problem are the same, then the Agent and Senser of the clause the problem makes me think X would point to the same referent as in I make myself think X. Separating the client and the problem also prevents clients from making the ‘other’ the Agent of one’s cognitions as for example (S)he/You make(s) me think X. In sum, the ontogenetic effects of acquiring an understanding of C’s identifying relational clauses in Ex. (8:1) translates into instances in narrative counselling in which clients’ stop construing themselves or others and start construing problems as Agents of negative events. The externalizing of the problem extends its influence beyond problem construction; for, once problem behaviour has been nominalized and transformed into a Participant, it becomes easier to imagine ways in which we can oppose it, and ultimately efface it. One important component of effacement is the identification of alternative, and more preferred, ways of acting. C’s goal of enabling client ontogenesis is expressed in lines 05–08 (i.e., the idea is to .hh to be able to open up space what we call therapeutic space. space for people to experience themselves .hh and the other person differently). Put differently, externalizing conversations enable clients to both construe experience and construct their lives and relationships in significantly improved ways. The arguement that narrative counselling is a form of pedagogic discourse that regulates clients’ ‘semiotic activity’ through externalizing conversations suggests that the counsellor plays an important role in the change process. The term “scaffolding”, taken from Bruner (1986), is often used to describe the technique used by educators to facilitate learning, and is also, I would argue, appropriate to identify the counsellor’s discursive practice. Broadly, scaffolding in narrative counselling refers to the ways in which the counsellor enables the client to develop their meaning making skills in problem contexts. Bruner’s concept of a scaffold draws largely from Vygotsky’s (1978) descriptions of the zone of proximal development or ZPD. According to Vygotsky (1978: 86), the ZPD is: the distance between the actual developmental level as determined by independent problem solving and the level of potential development as determined through problem solving under adult guidance or in collaboration with more capable peers.

If Vygotsky’s levels of development are reinterpreted in terms of narrative counselling, ontogenesis may be construed in terms of three semiotic phases that correspond to clients’ developing semiotic repertoires. In the first phase, clients’ actual level, clients present their construal of the problem by recounting

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Clients’ semiotic repertoires 

their personal experiences of their lives and relationships. This phase corresponds to clients’ beginning semiotic repertoires. The second phase, clients’ transitional level, is realized in counsellor’s scaffolding of clients into new meaning making activities. The third and final phase corresponds to clients’ developed semiotic repertoires. In this phase clients can, independently of the counsellor, inititate these new meaning making activities.

. Beginning semiotic repertoire The beginning of the counselling process can be viewed as clients’ introduction to talking about problems in the presence of a counsellor. Clients are placed in a situation in which they must formulate events about themselves or other that are addressed to a counsellor. In the description of logogenesis, it was shown that clients tend to judge self or other’s behaviour as frequently performed negative events. Clients generally do not begin by identifying their problems or by addressing the causal influences of their problems, though this might, however, be the case for experienced clients who have had previous exposure to counselling and/or therapy. Instead, clients provide congruent formulations of events. By congruent, I mean that clients tend to recount ‘what happened’ maximally across clauses with relatively little grammatical metaphor. These client recounts of events are most commonly linked by paratactic markers (e.g., and) that imply a temporal succession, and, when present, causality is realized by hypotactic causal markers (e.g., because). In the next two sub-sections I describe client realizations of congruent formulations of events and ECFs. .. Congruent formulations of events The first instance of problem-oriented conversation occurs in the first session. In the example below, C begins to probe for the reasons that led the couple to seek counselling (i.e., .hhh so wh- wha- what wuz it that um um made you consider um coming here for couples counselling). After having identified the reason as being her husband’s suggestion (lines 06 & 08), W then provides a list of events, beginning on line 19 and ending on 25, that may be interpreted as reasons for seeking counselling. Each event listed by W contains the Participant we, followed by either a Behavioural (i.e., don’t communicate), Verbal (i.e., can’t deci::de), Material (i.e, wanna do or wanna go::) or Relational (i.e., become) Process. Each event is congruently realized and is linked by addition (lines 19–20 and 24–25), elaboration (20–21) or variation (23–24). It could also be argued

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 Chapter 8

that implicit causality is realized in line 25 (and we both become very defensive); that is, not deciding what to do or where to go results in the couple being defensive. (8:2) (A08P1) 01 C: 02 03 04 W: 05 C:

.hhh so wh- wha- what wuz it that um um made you consider um coming here for couples counselling (1.5) [because ] [I’m gonna ] ask you a few questions a minute later ((to F??)) 06 W: uh:: because they had suggested it 07 C: who’s they 08 W: Fred [Fred suggested it ] 09 (C): [uh Fred suggested it ] 10 C: a::nd d- did it take you long to think of it as a good idea? 11 (2.0) 12 W: I think 13 I:: thought 14 it would would be an okay idea? .hh 15 and then he made the arrangements. 16 C: okay 17 W: because I I think 18 that (1.0) that Fred Fred needs uh (1.5) → 19 we don’t communicate very well → 20 we fight (0.8) on little issues → 21 like we just can’t deci::de (2.0) uh:: (0.8) 22 what we wanna do next → 23 or where we wanna go:: 24 or .hh → 25 and we both become very defensive

What is perhaps most striking about W’s formulations is her consistent use of plural we. In this way, W does not compare her behaviour to F’s; rather, she construes both Participants as equal in fighting, not deciding, etc. Even when W formulates her personal aims in lines 06–15 below, she ends by stating the purpose of counselling in terms of a joint feeling (i.e., so that we both feel good about it.). W’s actions of discussing, resolving and doing all seem to orient to the purpose of mutual good feelings between W and F.

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Clients’ semiotic repertoires 

(8:3) (A08P1)

→ → → → → → → → → →

01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 W: 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15

yeah just a second uh uh just very soon uh um um we’ve got a little bit of time left so I’m gonna have lots of time with Fred. um I’m just curious about wh- why you’re here wh- what you hoped to achieve about coming here .hh I hoped to:: be able to:: .hh talk to Fred in an adult manner and go through the steps of the problem .hh or the situation .hh discushing discussing it resolving it. .hh and doing it whatever that might mean .hh so that we both feel good about it. there’s no reason (not)

A slightly different picture emerges when a similar question is posed to F. Rather than construing experience as shared, F clearly differentiates between his and W’s construal of experience. In lines 07–25 F first provides a background context for why they ended up coming to therapy. F claims that since he started driving W to work they ended up spending more time together, and it was at this point that there were mo:re little things that would come up (line 22). F then proceeds to explain how these differences began to occur. Difference is introduced in two ways: first through contingent causality in lines 27–29 (i.e., so the more time we spend together the more .hh the more difficult it is to (1.5) just decide what we’re going to do next); and second by consequential causality in lines 30–32 (i.e., because we communicate in different wa:ys that fashion worked fine when we were both on our o::wn). In the former, the second event is contingent upon the occurence of the first event; that is, spending more time together results in decision-making difficulties. In the latter, different communicating styles is the reason for the couples’ decision-making difficulties (in Ex. (8:4), explicit causal relations are highlighted in bold). (8:4) (A08P1) 01 C: okay I’ll call you Fred umm 02 are I jus want to ask you roughly the same kinds of things 03 um um what um what would you like to talk about um 04 when you think 05 wh- why you’re coming here

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 Chapter 8

06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

wh::at are your reasons for being here. F: .hh uh I:’ve the feeling I had wuz that (1.0) boy (3.0) since since I wuz well let’s see not since I wuz I wuz unemployed but since I started driving Wendy Sue tuh work. right. it got to be a point where uh she drove on her own for a while commuted on her her own an then she said I can’t do this its jus too tiring etcetera so I started driving her C: into ((name of city)) F: into ((name of city)). an uh hhh going back an forth so that we were spending more time together and there were mo:re little things that would come up well would we do this or will we do that y’know because we’re together (0.7) an we don’t mesh on how tuh do things so the more time we spend together the more .hh the more difficult it is to (1.5) just decide what we’re going to do next because we communicate in different wa:ys that fashion worked fine when we were both on our o::wn and y’know you have a little bit of its not its not like we disagree on everything C: uh huh F: its just that we tend to try to make decisions different ways .hh I wanna think about everything even beforehand look at all the pros all the cons .hh think about that change my mind delay a little procrastinate longer then eventually come to a decision (1.0) uh Wendy Sue would like to maybe uh just think

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Clients’ semiotic repertoires 

46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

about it on her own and say yes let’s do that (0.8) uh but I suspect that more so recently she sort’ve been trying tuh tell me what I th- what she thinks I wanna hear. (1.5) so I don’t know whether she’s telling me what she really feels (1.2) or whether she’s telling me what she thinks I wanna hea::r cause she’s trying tuh please me or she’s trying to avoid an argument.

The experiential splitting of F and W into separate Participants of different Processes first occurs in line 38 when F describes his own decision-making. F’s decision-making practices are described by clauses of doing, realized by either Material or Behavioural Processes (i.e., think about, look at, think about, change my mind, delay, procrastinate, come to a decision). 38 F: I wanna think about everything even beforehand 39 look at all the pros all the cons .hh 40 think about that 41 change my mind 42 delay a little 43 procrastinate longer 44 then eventually come to a decision (1.0)

Much less space is given to W’s decision-making; in particular, W decides in terms of a Behavioural (i.e., think about) and a Verbal (i.e., say) Process. Moreover, the speech function of W’s deciding corresponds to an agreement with F’s suggestion (i.e., yes let’s do that) 45 46 47 48

uh Wendy Sue would like to maybe uh just think about it on her own and say yes let’s do that (0.8)

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 Chapter 8

Further refinement of W’s decision-making occurs in the subsequent lines in which F contrasts (i.e., uh but I suspect) W’s past decision-making with what she more recently has been telling F. Furthermore, F’s cognitions (i.e., I suspect and I don’t know) are cast as a frame for a series of projections. Compare the following: – – –

I suspect → that she sort’ve been trying tuh tell me [[what I th- what she thinks → I wanna hear]] I don’t know → whether she’s telling me [[what she really feels]] I don’t know → whether she’s telling me [[what she thinks → I wanna hea::r]]

Put differently, F’s cognitions project W’s sayings, which embed W’ cognitions or perceptions, which in turn project F’s perceptions. The focus on descisionmaking practices has shifted from a logico-semantics of expansion to a logicosemantics of projection involving verbalizations, cognitions and perceptions. In the former, F’s decision-making is seen in terms of behavioural or material doings, whereas in the latter, W’s decision-making is seen in terms of verbal Processes that project agreement with F or in terms of F’s cognitions that project W’s verbalizations, cognitions and perceptions. In the final two lines, W’s decision-making or agreement is hypotactically expanded via causality (i.e., cause she’s . . . ). F provides two causes for W’s agreement: she’s trying tuh please me and she’s trying to avoid an argument. The difference between W’s and F’s decision-making grows even larger. While F behaves and acts in relation to a complex process of deciding, W merely offers agreements that are associated with her cognitions and perceptions and are motivated by pleasing F or avoiding an argument. 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 → 59 → 60

uh but I suspect that more so recently she sort’ve been trying tuh tell me what I th- what she thinks I wanna hear. (1.5) so I don’t know whether she’s telling me what she really feels (1.2) or whether she’s telling me what she thinks I wanna hea::r cause she’s trying tuh please me or she’s trying to avoid an argument.

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Clients’ semiotic repertoires 

To this point, I have shown how clients formulate events in terms of own or other’s behaviour. These formulations can be graded up or down to yield an interpersonal construct that was described in Chapter 6 as extreme case formulation (ECF). .. Extreme case formulations ECFs are organized by interpersonal meanings. In narrative counselling, ECFs were found to involve modal meanings of high usuality, which realized judgements of what constitutes normal behaviour. These formulations were also shown to play a role in facilitating problem identification from the counsellor, thereby setting off the goal-directed narrative counselling macro-genre. Seen in terms of ontogenesis, ECFs index clients’ beginning semiotic repertoires, or actual semiotic potential, in describing behaviour. This, of course, does not mean that clients do not in later stages negatively judge behaviour. They certainly do. It means, rather, that these formulations are a beginning resource for formulating events. In the previous section, it was claimed that W formulates events in which both W and F are realized as co-Participants (e.g., we fight, we don’t communicate). Later on in session one, however, W produces an ECF in which F is described in terms of his frequent lecturing. Since this example was analyzed in considerable detail in Chapter 6, I will not repeat that analysis here. I simply point out that F’s frequent behaviour is realized congruently; that is, each of F’s doings or sensings is realized within a clause and is not, for example, nominalized as a Participant (the only exception to this is lines 7–8 in which F’s perception is embedded within a nominal group). Examples of congruent realizations are he likes to lecture and Fred still had to:: .hh really make sure. (8:5) (A08P1) 01 W: .hh hhh well I think 02 that uh (2.0) Fred just gives up now hh heh .hh 03 I think 04 that secretly he still wants to win the argument .hh 05 he wants to prolo::ng 06 Fred is a: uh 07 he likes to lecture? (1.2) on any: any subject that 08 he feels even mildly uh uh y’know animated abou::t 09 he likes to lecture 10 and and go on and on and on and on about it .hh

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 Chapter 8

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 C:

and I- there wuz one this morning or yesterday or something that .hh that I thought well its deci:ded but Fred still had to:: .hh really make sure that I knew .hh what wuz going on uh that that uh he had he had pressed his point [he has ] done that all uh all my my years with him [what I’m ]

ECFs are not only used to describe others. Clients also use them to describe their own behaviour. In Ex. (8:6) F describes the intensity with which he analyzes subjects through such clauses as I probably wanna grab it and beat it tuh death right?, I wanna go at it and I get fixated on something. Except for the somewhat metaphorical use of Processes such as grab it, beat it tuh death and go at it, F’s behaviour is congruently realized. (8:6) (A08P1) → 01 → 02 03 04 → 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

F: I probably wanna grab it and beat it tuh death right? C: the subject F: the subject whatever it is I wanna go at it if I’m interested w- ah sometimes I’m not interested I have m- moments of don’t bother me I don’t wanna know C: mhm F: about anything or once I’ve I get fixated on something .hh I’m trying tuh okay figure this out what are we going to do tomorrow or the weekend or and I and I guess I tend to almost interview her (1.2) what do you think about so and so uhmm

Clients’ congruent formulations in which self or other is the doer or Senser of a clause are the beginning semiotic materials that C works with to facilitate client change. Clients’ formulations that describe behaviour as incessant lecturing, getting fixated, letting others down, doing it right also construct what M. White (2000: 39) refers to as “naturalistic accounts of identity.” If someone construes their behaviour as highly frequent, there’s a good chance that they

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Clients’ semiotic repertoires 

will also perceive that behaviour as inherent or immutable. As long as events continue to be realized by whole clauses, C’s goal of separating the client from the problem – by unpacking these naturalistic accounts of identity – will not be attained. C needs, as my analysis of counselling logogenesis has demonstrated, to identify problems by nominalizing them and by making them Agents. By introducing this level of abstraction, however, C must also be able to get clients to use this abstraction; that is, clients must at some point be able to realize events as Participant roles. In the next section, I illustrate some of the ways in which C starts to push open clients’ semiotic repertoires for talking about events.

. Transitional semiotic repertoire: Scaffolding In this phase of semiotic development clients begin to expand their ability to construe problem behaviour, by getting a sense of how the problem (or problems) is influencing their lives. In this way, a transitional repertoire exemplifies clients’ shifting generalized meaning potential (or ZPD) in the narrative counselling context. This transitional repertoire is very much a co-production in which the counsellor scaffolds the client into new avenues of meaning making. For the most part, client scaffolding meant getting clients to construe events in terms of causality. Scaffolding was often accomplished by questions that were directed at the client; in particular, C’s questions realized causality in such a way that clients were required to answer by reformulating these causative elements. When clients did this, they either produced analytic causatives or the client behaviour that the problem’s agency instigated. Questions, therefore, are a central resource in realizing the regulative register. By questioning clients about the effects of problems, the counsellor was able to direct the interaction towards the Problem Agency stage. In addition, regulating client social actions through questions also intiated instruction. By providing the effects of problems, clients began to construe problems in terms of agency. Clients’ new ways of construing problems also had interpersonal consequences. By viewing problems as an external Agents, clients move away from naturalistic accounts of identity. As problem behaviour such as “lecturing style” or “doing it right” becomes separated from the client, it becomes more difficult for clients to associate the problem behaviour to their identity. In the next three subsections, I demonstrate the role that agency plays in clients’ new construals of experience.

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.. Analytic causatives Clients demonstrate that they can talk about events in new ways by adopting C’s practice of realizing events as Agents of client behaviour. C helps clients to produce these utterances by asking questions that implicate the problem’s agency. In line 08 below, taken from (6:33), C asks what impact the lecturing has on W (i.e., what does what impact does that have on you .hh as a person). The Cause, impact, is nominalized as a Participant and forms the wh-element of C’s question. To answer this question, W must therefore orient to causality, the impact of the lecturing style. In lines 10–13, W’s answer is realized by analytic causatives (i.e., it makes me feel . . . ). In each case, W’s analytic causatives construe an event (i.e., F’s lecturing style) as an Agent that instigates perceptions (i.e., feel like uh a child?, like I’m (1.0) I I’m ignorant and that I can’t grasp it quickly). So, by asking questions that realize and implicate causation, C is able to create new realizations of events. These construals move from congruent realizations that centrally involve clients’ highly frequent, negative behaviours to analytic causative constructions in which problems becomes separated from the client. (8:7) (A08P1)

→ → → →

01 C: 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 W: 11 12 13

okay I wanna I wanna talk about that I wanna talk in the little bit of the time that we have left about um about that particular pattern .hh um m: maybe since you’re speaking about I’ll ask you um .hh what are y- impact or effect .hh does this lecturing style that you experience from Fred what does what impact does that have on you .hh as a person .hh oh well I it makes me feel like uh a child? .hh to a certain degree .hh it makes me feel like I’m (1.0) I I’m ignorant that I can’t grasp it quickly .hh umm

Another example of an analytic causative is shown below. In 01–03, C utters a relational causative in which indecisiveness is the Agent and which socks you wear is the Medium. Subsequent to this, C utters the question how does it do that; or, in other words, ‘how does indeciseness influence which socks you wear’. What might seem puzzling at this point is why C is seeking more information from F. After all, C has already expressed the causal relationship; thus

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it is not clear why the ‘how’ is necessary. Examination of the Medium suggests one answer. The Medium consists of an embedded Material clause (i.e., which socks you wear) and so indecisiveness is getting F to do something, wear socks, but we still do not know what makes F think he must do this; that is, what is missing are the mental reasons – in terms of a cognition or perception – for F’s behaviour. In essence, by asking ‘how’, C is asking F to provide the mental reasons for this behaviour. In lines 10–12, this is exactly what F provides in the form of an analytic causative: it (1.5) gets me tuh try an:: (2.2) see that the pair of socks I put on first are the ones that er goin tuh do me for the whole day. Here, indecisiveness causes F to have a certain perception of which socks to wear. Once again, C is able to scaffold the client into formulating an event in terms of an Agent that causes the client to perceive something. (8:8) (A08P2) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 → 10 → 11 → 12

C: awright so i- indecisiveness is even even is even influencing a::::h the way in which which socks you wear= F: =yeah= C: =yeah. how does it do that. (1.2) I need tuh clearly understand maybe I’m missing it but how does it do that (3.0) F: it (1.5) gets me tuh try an:: (2.2) see that the pair of socks I put on first are the ones that er goin tuh do me for the whole day

.. Cognitions When problems have been identified and their agency established, this becomes given information and there seems little need to keep seeking confirmation of problem agency from clients. So, how does C go about reinforcing the problem’s agency without appearing repetitive? One way is to explore the effects of problem agency such that problem agency remains constant while the events – that which the problem influences – may keep changing. The consequence of this is that the more effects the problem has, the stronger the agency of the problem. Put differently, the more negative ideas that the problem gets the client to think, the more it negatively influences the client.

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The most common type of behaviour, or sensing, that problems elicit from clients are cognitive ones; in particular, problems get clients to think things. In Ex. (8:9) C explores the effects of indecisiveness, what C refers to as mapping out the influence of indecisiveness, by specifically referring to the ideas that indecisiveness causes (lines 09–10). Notice also in line 07 that C introduces a new Participant role for indecisiveness; talking indecisiveness means that indecisiveness is, in addition to being an Agent, a Sayer. In this way, a problem can also be spoken to. C is performing a kind of role play here. C asks indecisiveness questions that are, in turn, responded to by F. In other words, F is the voice of indecisiveness. In lines 12–13, F provides the ideas that he is made to think: if you (1.0) get it right the first time you won’t hafta do it again. (8:9) (A08P2) 01 C: okay so let’s look at u::m ah indecisiveness ((sound of papers rustling)) 02 .hh ahh w:I think 03 what we want to do here is m:: what we call mapping out 04 the influence of indecisiveness .hh u::::m (1.5) 05 I want 06 ya tuh sort’ve think u::::h (1.0) 07 imagine I’m sort’ve u:::h talking indecisiveness 08 (0.8) .hh uh indecisiveness I’d like tuh know u::m (.) 09 what kinda ideas do you put in Fred’s head (1.2) u:::h 10 that would make him u:::m u::m go along with you 11 (4.0) → 12 F: o::h that if you (1.0) get it right the first time → 13 you won’t hafta do it again

Additional thoughts instigated by indecisiveness are shown in Ex. (8:10). In this segment, C and F have stopped role playing. C’s first question (i.e., what does it have you thinking about yourself (.) Fred) yields the response that I can’t make a decision. In terms of logico-semantics, what F has done is provide the projected idea of the Process think. This can be contrasted with lines 16–20 in which the Process think is realized in the nominalized form as thoughts (i.e, what other thoughts does it encourage). In a way, when F provides the answer, ah that I’m usually look- for someone else tuh make the decision . . . , he is providing the Postmodifier of the nominal group thoughts and not the projection of the Process think. Of course the latter construction is a metaphorical realization of the congruent projected form and so the meanings of each do not significantly diverge. It is nonetheless worthwhile to point out that no matter how C realizes

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his question, congruent or metaphorical, clients can respond with that-clauses (projections or embedded projections as Postmodifiers) as long as projecting Processes are used. (8:10) (A08P2)

→

→ → → → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

C: kay (2.0) now this is great (1.0) I think we’re really getting at indecisiveness is the influence over you .hh so what does have you um (.) what does it have you thinking about yourself (.) Fred (2.0) F: that I can’t make a decision C: kay (4.0) is that true Fred (1.5) F: oh I can when I have [to ] C: [yes ] okay so you can but its got you thinking you can’t make a decision .hh what else does it put in your head about yourself (5.0) what other thoughts does it encourage F: ah that I’m usually lookI do look for someone else tuh make the decision or tuh make .hh tuh cast the deciding vote

It should also be mentioned that, although F does not formulate his response as an analytic causative, cause is still implied. F’s response, therefore, can be viewed as an ellipsed causative construction in which only the event is realized (e.g., it has me thinking that I can’t make a decision). In this way, C’s questions reinforce both the problem’s agency and the problem’s effects, the thoughts that clients are made to think. .. Alternative events Turning away from problem construction and towards problem effacement, by asking questions, C also encourages clients to formulate alternative events that contrast with or go against the problem. Conceivably, C could also use analytical causatives to achieve this aim. For instance, instead of asking “what the problem makes the client think”, he could ask “what the problem prevents the

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client from thinking”; the implication here would be that the problem is preventing preferred construals of experience. C, however, does not do this, or at least he does not utter these forms explicitly. Instead, positive thoughts are realized in terms of desideration; that is, liking or hating something. Therefore, although I did not find any instances in which the problem prevents the client from thinking or doing something positive, there were instances in which the problem hates the client doing positive things. An example of desideration is shown in Ex. (8:11). C, in line 04, attributes the problem with a Sayer role, and, in the subsequent two lines, hating is expressed as a direct implication of talking. It seems that the ability to say imbues an entity with sentience; specifically, if the problem can talk, it can also feel or hate. In lines 08–19, W provides a list of behaviours that the problem would hate her to do (i.e., to enjoy mys(hh)ehelf, to:: uh .hh d do something for myself, cut my hai::r, go to university, take some botany and live on campus by myself ). Although some behaviours (e.g., to enjoy mys(hh)ehelf ) oppose problem events such as feeling badly or letting others down, most seem to be directed at W’s agency. Therefore, the general opposition seems to be between the problem being the Agent of W’s behaviour and W being the Agent of her own behaviour. (8:11) (A08P4)

→

→ → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

C:

uh what would the problem do you think what would the problem .hh like if the problem could talk what would it just h(hh)ate you tuh do (2.2) W: i uh i w(hhhh) .hh it would hate me to enjoy mys(hh)ehelf huh heh .hh it would hate me to:: uh .hh d do something for myself= C: =like what. ((tuns pages)) (1.2) W: u:::h (1.5) like uh (1.5) cut my hai::r (.) .hh huh heh heh .hh t(hh)ake a(hh) it .hh enroll in an art class or (0.8) go to university an take some botany .hh or something. (1.0) live on campus by myself.

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20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30

[its like ( could be) ] [y y’know would would it hate ] you to be you? (.) W: oh I think so::= C: =m W: it I i w it might be surprised at whom I a::m I’m just some kinda still don’t know who I am. (1.5) bu(hh)t (1.2) sure. C:

C, in lines 21–22, seems to orient to W’s agency by asking whether the problem would hate W to be herself (i.e., y y’know would would it hate you to be you?). In other words, enjoying herself, cutting her hair, going to university, etc. are behaviours that are characteristic of W. The other behaviours in which W feels badly or is letting others down is not characteristic of W; rather, they are problem-instigated. At first glance, it appears that C is deviating from the narrative practice of unpacking naturalistic accounts of identity; that is, C’s question in line 21, y y’know would would it hate you to be you?, may be interpreted as suggesting that non-problem instigated behaviours are part of W’s real identity. However, at no point does C make these kinds of identifications between W’s identity and a behaviour. Instead, C scaffolds W in producing a range of behaviours that she would enjoy doing. As a consequence, W is slowly becoming aware that other kinds of thoughts and actions are possible, if the problem’s influence were to be eliminated. In sum, associating the problem with other kinds of Participant roles such as Sayer (verbal) or Senser (desideration) allows C to explore alternate behaviours of clients that work against the problem. Desideration, or projecting clauses in general, seem to be a resource that these clients make most frequent use of. Note also in line 26 that W associates the problem with the emotion surprise, realized as an attributive relational clause. As will be seen in the next section, it is these resources that client’s add to their semiotic repertoires.

. Developed semiotic repertoire At the beginnng of counselling, problem contexts were realized in terms of clients’ negative judgements of self or other’s behaviour. In this phase, clients

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enacted naturalistic accounts of identity that comprised lecturing others, feeling badly, doing things right, etc. The main focus in the transitional repertoire was to deconstruct these naturalistic accounts of identity, by reconstruing the problem as a Participant that is external to the client. Counsellors achieved this aim of ‘separation’ by scaffolding clients into construing their behaviour as problem instigated. Thus, through reformulations and questions, counsellors were able to introduce clients into new ways of experiencing and constructing their lives. It should be emphasized that the transitional repertoire consists of the joint construction of ideational and interpersonal meanings. Further semiotic development, therefore, is marked by clients’ ability to construe problem contexts in alternative ways without prior scaffolding. It is at this stage that clients have expanded their specific skills and resources in which they are able to externalize the problem by making practical use of the identifying relational clauses: the person isn’t the problem; the problem is the problem. With this developed semiotic repertoire, clients are able to identify problems, construe problems as Sayers that command them to do things and construe themselves as Agents of their own behaviour. These three new meaning-making resources are explored in the following three sections. .. Problem Identification It was shown in Chapter 6 that Problem Identification occurs in the problem construction genre, and is accomplished by C’s reformulation and abstraction of clients’ formulation of events. Furthermore, problems are identified so that their influence on client behaviour can be mapped out. In the second narrative counselling genre, problem effacement, clients also demonstrate an ability to identify problems. The purpose of identifying problems in this genre, however, is not to explore the causal effects of problems but for clients to demonstrate their ability to externalize the problem. An example of clients’ ability to identify problems is shown in (8:12). In this example, W recounts an episode in which she refused to organize a family event (i.e., I don’t want to organize it). W’s declination is an alternative event in which W expresses her opinion without feeling badly or letting others down. In lines 13–14, C then asks how organizing things relates to the problem (i.e., an h(h)ow does organizing things fit in tuh the prob- the life’ve the problem). Because we know from the analysis of the narrative counselling interview that problems are potential Agents and so may influence W’s behaviour, C’s question makes at least two kinds of responses relevant. One response is to construe the problem as the Agent of W’s organizing things as in “the problem makes me want

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to organize things”. The second response would be to identify organizing things as the problem. In lines 15–19, W orients to the latter interpretation, which is perhaps not surprising since C has already nominalized the event (i.e., I don’t wanna organize this one becomes [[organizing things]]), thereby facilitating its realization within a relational clause. What does W then do? W begins by uttering an identifying relational clause in which the Token (i.e., that) appears to refer back to and construe some aspect of C’s turn. At this point, it would seem that that points back to organizing things, which would identify it as the problem. However, as the next line makes clear, other events such as getting myself all wound up about something end up being the problem. In a curious way, W’s use of that points forward to not-yet-mentioned events rather than to the just formulated, and already nominalized, event of organizing things (Tokens are in italics, Values are in bold). (8:12) (A08P6)

→ → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 19 20 21 22

W: so uh I in this incidence .hh I have basically said to my dad that (1.5) fine. y’kn(hh)ow do what do it I’ll do whatever you sa::y. .hh becuz I (.) I don’t want to organize it. (1.2) I don’t want to organize it.= C: =mhm= W: =although its fun an I’ve enjoyed doing all that [to a ] certain degree. .hh C: [mhm] W: I don’t wanna organize this one.= C: =t(.hh) okay w:hy not. an h(h)ow does organizing things fit in tuh the probthe life’ve the problem. W: well that is the problem. (.) the problem is .hh getting myself all wound up about something. (.) an worrying an worrying an worrying that something isn’t going tuh be right. .hh an then my father will sa::y say something tuh me like .hh fer ten years .hh well its too bad we didn’t have a group photo. (1.2) an I will s- constantly f until I die feel guilt about [that.]

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In this example W has demonstrated that she is able reason about problems in abstract ways. Simply put, W moves from congruent formulations of temporally unfolding events to more abstract formulations of events in which events are realized as abstract things and are identified as problems. The upshot of this ability to use abstraction is that the problem becomes separated from the client. There are, nonetheless, stark differences between W’s and C’s practices of abstraction. As already mentioned, W does not match C’s problem construction process by making an embedded clause serve as the Token of a relational clause. Rather, new events such as getting myself all wound up about something are introduced first as embedded clauses. In addition, these embedded clauses tend to resist reification. Notice that, in lines 18–19, the problem appears as worrying an worrying an worrying that something isn’t going tuh be right. This threefold repetition of worrying allows the event to retain a process-like quality and an interpersonal meaning of amplified usuality. Although C’s identified problems are similar in that they realize realis tense and reproduce much of clients’ original formulations, they do not contain repetitions of the verbal group nor do they contain reflexives such as ‘getting myself ’. Only one example was found in which a client’s practices of problem identification resembled those of the counsellor. In Ex. (8:13), taken from session six, F explains to C how he tends to not complete certain tasks (i.e., then I get (1.5) ti:red’ve it or I don’t get it finished or its part way through or I wanna stop an think). (8:13) (A08P6) 01 F: an that’s (.) what I tend tuh do. 02 I tend tuh (.) start things 03 an oh I’m enjoying this 04 an .hh then I get (1.5) ti:red’ve it 05 or I don’t get it finished 06 or its part way through ((snaps fingers)) 07 or I wanna stop an think 08 well where do I go from here 09 so .hh there’s unfinished this an a pile of that. 10 C: mhm. 11 (0.8) 12 F: but (.) rather than dwelling on the fact 13 that it isn’t finished an cleaned up 14 I’ll say 15 well at least ya got it sta:rted.

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→ → → → → →

→

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52

C: F: C: F:

C: F:

C: F: F:

C: F:

C: F: C: F: C: F: C:

mhm y’know I got part way through it? mhm. u::m (1.2) an I guess I’ve a::lways done tha::t. (1.2) u::m (3.0) how come. (6.0) well I guess its I’m back tuh the old (hhh)eh don’t do anything if it isn’t right. huh heh .hh don’t y’know don’t do anything til you absolutely haf to. (0.8) or (.) til you think you’re doing it right. mhm. are [are you ] mhm. [y’know ] think aboutleave all your options open tuh the last minute .hh an then do it at the deadline. (1.5) don’t do anything? (.) unless its absolutely right. mhm. (0.8) or (.) you have no choice but to do it at the moment y’know the .hh (.)if the ship is sinking. (1.0) then you (1.5) this is the same stuff we talked about in session one isn’t [it? ] (.) [yeah ] uh ha ha have you been able tuh turn your back on this? (1.5) [its so weird ] [I’m still ] aware of it. mhm I’m aware that its that its the:re. mhm

F ends his turn in line 20 with an ECF that realizes high usuality: u::m (1.2) an I guess I’ve a::lways done tha::t. (1.2) u::m. In the problem construction genre,

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following a client’s negative judgement of self or other, C tended to identify a problem. What C does here instead is ask F how come. Using an identifying relational clause, F then re-identifies in lines 25–34 a series of problems from prior sessions, placing a series of embedded clauses within the Head of a nominal group: the

old

don’t do anything if it isn’t right. don’t y’know don’t do anything til you absolutely haf to (0.8) or (.) til you think you’re doing it right. leave all your options open tuh the last minute an then do it at the deadline

Premodifier. . . . . . Head ‘Deictic’ ‘Epithet’

F, just as W above, demonstrates that he is able to externalize the problem by embedding it within a nominal group. Unlike W, however, F shows that he can refer back to previously identified problems. What I find particularly interesting is F’s ability to use the experiential semantics of nominal groups when referring to problems. The nominal group is frequently used by C for this purpose and so in using this resource, F is demonstrating his expanded semiotic repertoire for talking about problems. In the final example, I illustrate how clients refer to their identifying practices meta-discursively; that is, clients demonstrate an awareness that they can talk in new ways. Ex. (8:14) begins with W uttering a possessive relational clause (i.e., I have .hh the problem). In 03, C provides exemplifications of the problem by listing three Tokens or nominalized events (i.e., being wha worrying or uh letting others dow::n [or] disagreement). In doing this, C provides examples of the problems to which W might be referring. Subsequently, in lines 08–10, C probes the causal effects of these problems (additional examples of this are shown in the previous section) by getting W to list the behaviours that the problem instigates. However, rather than formulating these behaviours in terms of the effects of causes, W instead formulates them as the projections of the problem’s desires (i.e., the problem wants me:: to re- recognize). After having acquired the roles of Value, Agent and Senser, C, in lines 19–20, adds an implicit Sayer role of commanding to the problem’s repertoire of Participant roles (i.e., i is it a good idea under these circumstances tuh listen to the problem?); rather than

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interpreting listen as a behavioural process, I interpret it as a verbal process of the form “W was commanded by the problem”. Note that by reformulating W’s prior utterance as W listening to the problem, C is also reformulating the semantics of want. In this instance, want realizes the interpersonal semantics of the command, in addition to its desiderative meaning. (8:14) (A08P6)

→ →

→

→

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

W: so. I have .hh the problem (1.2) C: being wha worrying or uh letting others dow::n [or ] W: [yes. ] C: disagreement. W: yeah yeah [yeah yeah ] yeah. C: [all that stuff.] C: u::h that’s that’s there. an ih its tryin tuh what where’s the problem tryin tuh direct you into. (1.0) W: well I think the problem wants me:: to re- recognize that I I didn’t do everything right. .hh that I missed something. C: mhm (.) W: an then I I will really feel depressed after that. C: uh huh. i is it a good idea under these circumstances tuh listen to the problem? (2.5) W: well no:: until we’ve started these sessions I didn’t (.) even know about the problem.= C: =no. becuz that’s what these sessions are all [about.yeah?] W: [( ) ] C: is separating you out [from the prob ]lem? W: [that’s right. ] W: .hh [an I ] refer to the problem now. C: [( ) ] C: uh huh. W: I can refer tuh the problem an .hh an Fred reminds me:: too. he ha- i the he has a problem as we::ll

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34 → 35

that there is a pro:blem the:re. .hh so I am able to:: refer to (.) the problem.

W’s meta-discursive talk begins from line 22 onwards. Following problem identification and the problem’s effects, desires and commands, W then admits that she didn’t (.) even know about the problem. By way of response, C reasons that externalizing the problem (i.e, separating you out [from the prob]lem?) allows W to know about it. W then builds on C’s claim by stating that she refers to the problem (i.e., an I refer to the problem now). W’s utterance is metadiscursive in two ways. First and most generally, by saying that she can refer to the problem, W is also saying that she talks about problems. More specifically, W is making a claim about her way of using language. By saying she refers to the problem, W is making a statement of her use of reference – the discourse semantics of identification. To refer to a problem, one has to be able to reference it; And, the best way of doing this is to make it a Participant. Furthermore, Participants enter into reference chains, thereby mobilizing textual resources. Therefore, W’s ability to refer indexes her expanding semiotic repertoire of using textual resources in varying social contexts. Notice also that W places increasing emphasis on her ability to refer as she develops her turn; that is, she moves from I refer (no modality) to I can refer (ability with little emphasis) to I am able to:: refer (ability with high emphasis). Potentiality, unusuality and tenacity are key interpersonal meanings of attitude that clients increasingly make use of in problem effacement. These interpersonal resources are especially important for constructing alternative and preferred identities. .. Commands In addition to identifying problems and referring to problems, clients also construe problems as commanding them to do things. Therefore, although clients do not acquire C’s semiotic practice of realizing problems as Agents of client behaviour, they often realize problems as Sayers that command them to do things (It should be recalled however that commands are analyzed here as involving near-Agents because as commanders problems ‘try to make client do’ rather than ‘make client do’). Examples (8:15) and (8:16) contain instances in which F construes the problem as the commander of W’s behaviours; rather than demonstrating how the problem tells him to do things, F suggests how the problems influences W.

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(8:15) (A08P3)

→ → → → → →

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

C: =yeah (1.2) [but ] its lying to you W: [( ) ] C: its telling you that you letch that you let him that he that by letting him down he’s going to leave you and that’s not happening (1.2) now are there other ways in which the problem lies tuh you (4.5) this is kinda this is kinda tough tuh think this way is it? (1.2) F: well I think (.) th the problem sometimes tells Wendy Sue:: C: mhm= F: = that if I::’m (.) quiet C: uh huh F: o::r (1.0) whatever (.) she must’ve done something wrong. or she’s gotta do something tuh make me:: plum ((simultaneous sound of F hitting something))

In Ex. (8:15) C asks W to provide more examples that illustrate how the problem lies to her (i.e., now are there other ways in which the problem lies tuh you). Since, in lines 09 and 11, W does not immediately provide an answer (i.e., there is a 4.5 second pause in line 09 and a 1.2 second pause in line 11), F is able to self-select a turn. What F then does is give an instance in which the problem commands W (i.e., well I think (.) th the problem sometimes tells Wendy Sue:: . . . that if I::’m (.) quiet . . . o::r (1.0) whatever (.) she must’ve done something wrong.). Here, the command is realized by the verbal Process tell. In the next example F recounts an episode in which W had an anxiety attack while in a store. F constructs a motif throughout his story that is realized by the temporal conjunctive relation ‘when things go well, then something bad happens. (8:16) (A08P4) 01 F: 02 03 04 W:

[yeah] well you’ve had y’know good days an bad days a real good start intuh alotta things an really be rolling along= =yeah(hh)=

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→ → → →

→ →

05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

F:

=pretty confidently and then (.) y’know she’ll uh whether she’s ti::red (.) or just done too many things or whatever like being .hh you were in the store the other day you were [saying ] W: [yeah ] F: an you just kind’ve (1.2) anxiety attack or whatever (1.0) now I wuz off in some other part’ve the store cuz we were meeting in an hour I wasn’t s’pposed tuh be there (.) uh so that’s always a a set back right (0.8) is it just when things seem to be going well (.) hey I c’n do this (0.8) an then something pops up that (.) know whether the problem wuz saying no don’t get too confident I(hh) do(hh)n’t kn(hh)ow W: [huh don’t di ] [don’t get too smart ] C: [well ( ) that ] (F): [(that’s thin) ] C: that’s very good cuz that’s getting into the language of the [problem]

The first example occurs at the very beginning in lines 01–09. A good day, good start or confidence is temporally related to a negatively implied event. Although F never completes the second clause, he does, however, associate it with W’s being tired or doing too many things. The second example occurs in lines 18– 20 (i.e., is it just when things seem to be going well (.) hey I c’n do this (0.8) an then something pops up that). The temporal relation is explicitly realized as a whenthen construction. Subsequent to this, F provides reasons for W’s behaviour. F’s reason is that the problem commands her not to get too confident (i.e., know whether the problem wuz saying no don’t get too confident). It is worth considering to what degree positioning someone else (especially if the someone else is a spouse) as the recipient of a problem’s command is a delicate issue. On the one hand, it is potentially threatening to other’s positive face if they are seen as not being in control. On the other, by externalizing the problem and by making the problem an abstract thing that is separate from the client, facethreat is mitigated. After all, it is not so much the client who is not in control as

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it is an externalized problem that is preventing the client from being an Agent. Lack of agency, therefore, is not an inherent problem besetting the client. That W is not in the least threatened by F’s formulation can be seen in line 24, in which she provides another behaviour commanded by the problem (i.e., huh don’t di don’t get too smart). By elaborating or extending F’s turn, W ratifies F’s formulation. Note also that C orients to this collaborated talk through positive appreciation (i.e., that’s very good). In addition, F and W’s collaborative talk is made more abstract by an identifying relational clause (i.e., that’s getting into the language of the problem). In other words, by construing the problem as commanding W, the clients have shifted the level of abstraction in which they talk about events; that is, getting into the language of the problem refers to talking differently about events. In narrative counselling, the language of the problem means construing problems as abstract things and then having these ‘things’ acquire various Participant roles such as agency. There are also instances in which clients construe their own behaviour in terms of a ‘commanding’ problem. In (8:17), W begins by formulating a series of events that described her behaviour prior to seeking therapy (e.g., my stress levels were just too high, still .hh trying to do:: everything, perhaps not letting them do anything). (8:17) (A08P4)

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01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

W: .hh I’ve had alotta people telling me th(hh)ehat .hh u- y’know even before I went into:: any kind’ve therapy .hh becuz they could see:: (0.8) tha tum (0.8) that uh my stress levels were just too high .hh an I I wuz taking and still .hh trying to do:: everything (1.5) and perhaps not letting them do anything .hh neither were- really gave anybody a a good chance to .hh it wuz always (oh bum) y’see I’ve realized .hh (.) I:: my- the problem (0.8) told me C: mhm= W: =that I had tuh do it. (0.8) no one else could do it. (1.5) C: o::h has it been helpful fer you to seperate yourself from the problem like this W: that’s the first time I’ve done th(h)ahahat

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19 20 C: 21 22 W: 23 24 C:

[heh y’know ] [most people don’t ] don’t know how tuh do this. ri uh but I i i i its ha::rd to its:: its its difficult tuh do that?= =yes=

The way in which W formulates these events bears much similarity to her formulation of events at the beginning of the counselling interview: they are realized congruently and involve amplified interpersonal meanings. However, in line 11, W suddenly introduces the problem (i.e., I:: my- the problem (0.8) told me). The problem is construed as a Sayer who commands W. Lines 13–14 contain the projected clauses or the command’s proposals of what the problem requires of W (i.e., that I had tuh do it. (0.8) no one else could do it.). As in the example above, C displays positive appreciation of W’s formulation by evincing surprise (i.e., o::h) and he relates W’s way of talking about the problem to a higher order of abstraction (i.e., fer you to seperate yourself from the problem like this); that is, construing the problem as a Sayer who commands W means that W is externalizing the problem, separating herself from the problem or getting into the language of the problem. .. Client agency A final way in which clients expand their semiotic repertoire is by learning to construe themselves as Agents when talking about problem events. In narrative therapy terms, Client agency corresponds to “mapping the influence of persons” in the life of the problem. The excerpt below demonstrates how C’s practices of getting clients to construe problems as abstract things (dealt with in the section above on clients’ transitional semiotic repertoires) leads to a client’s construal of herself as an Agent. Ex. (8:18) begins with C scaffolding W into construing the problem as an Agent or Commander, by asking W to list the tactics or requirements of the problem (i.e., what tactics the problem uses against you. and what requirements the problem places upon you.). W responds in lines 11 and 15 by construing the problem in two instances as the Senser of negative behaviour. In both cases, the problem is construed in terms of desideration (i.e., .hh oh the problem wants tuh see . . . and the problem. the problem really likes it).

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(8:18) (A08P6) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

C:

W: C: W:

F: W: C: W:

C: W:

C: W:

.hh uh something else I think is important tuh talk a little bit about i::s (.) when you’re when you learn tuh separate yourself out from the problem is the tactics of the problem. (1.0) d’you get a sense’ve what tactics the problem uses against you. wou- w- is like another way of asking it would be what requirements the problem places upon you. for it tuh continue for its life tuh continue. .hh oh the problem wants tuh see me miserable. (1.0) mhm. (.) the problem. the problem really likes it when I’m (1.5) I’m I’m u::h (0.8) [worrying about something ] [breaking ] worried and .hh and uh (.) it likes this.= =I fought the problem. the other day I hafta tell you this. (1.0) Fred’d gone ou:t. (.) alone. (1.0) an I wuz at home alone. an I wuz looking forward to it. .hh an I wuz (.) I began tuh feel (.) like the problem wuz (.) telling me all kinds of things that I (.) I should er shouldn’t do an uh huh d’ya wanna wanna share a few of those [with us. ] [we::ll ] (1.0) okay you should go for a walk. (.) I don’t feel like going fer a walk. y’know an there’s my my brai::n wuz: my mind wuz going= =there wuz a part’ve you that saying go for a walk. y:eah(hh) an part’ve me

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40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

an y’know I got very confused an I wuz wanting to cry. (.) which I had done a lot’ve in the last little while. [.hh ] C: [mhm ] W: an I said stop it. jus stop it. (.) an I got up (1.0) an went an and busied myself. C: mhm. (.) W: an I think an I sh- shared that with Fred an I think (0.8) I:: (.) got rid’ve the problem for that moment. C: so wuz that an example of you being assertive against the [problem. ] W: [ye:s ] C: is that how ya did it. you you became assertive again.

A thematic shift occurs in line 22 in which the theme moves from being about the problem to being about W. It is here that W enters into a story genre in which she is the Agent that acts against the problem and, in this way, is able to instigate new alternative behaviours. The specific kind of story genre produced by W is the narrative. In Chapter 3, it was argued that narratives deal with unusual or problematic events and that they unfold by way of the following stages: Abstract, Orientation, Complication, Evaluation, Resolution and Coda. These stages, summarized in Eggins and Slade (1997: 233) are described and reproduced below: Abstract:

The purpose of the abstract is to provide a summary of the story in such a way that it encapusaltes the point of the story. Orientation: The purpose of the orientation is ‘to orient the listener in respect to place, time and behavioural stituation. (Labov & Waletzky 1967: 32) Complication: The purpose of the complication is to present temporally sequenced events which culminate in a crisis or problem. It is the main section of a narrative.

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Evaluation: Resolution: Coda:

The purpose of the evaluation is to reveal ‘the attitude of the narrator towards the narrative’. (Labov & Waletzky 1967: 37) The purpose of the resolution is to show how the protagonist’s actions resolve the crisis. The purpose of this concluding stage is to make a point about the text as a whole. It can be ‘a functional device for returning the verbal perspective to the present moment.’

W’s narrative begins on line 22 and ends on line 54. The segmentation of W’s narrative into the above-mentioned stages is shown below: Abstract:

I fought the problem. the other day I hafta tell you this. (1.0) Orientation: Fred’d gone ou:t. (.) alone. (1.0) an I wuz at home alone. an I wuz looking forward to it. .hh an I wuz (.) Complication: I began tuh feel (.) like the problem wuz (.) telling me all kinds of things that I (.) I should er shouldn’t do an . . ((request for elaboration by C)) . [we::ll] (1.0) okay you should go for a walk. (.) I don’t feel like going fer a walk. y’know an there’s my my brai::n wuz: my mind wuz going= ((=there wuz a part’ve you that saying go for a walk.)) y:eah(hh) an part’ve me Evaluation: an y’know I got very confused an I wuz wanting to cry. (.) which I had done a lot’ve in the last little while. Resolution: an I said stop it. jus stop it. (.) an I got up (1.0) an went an and busied myself. Coda: an I think an I sh- shared that with Fred an I think (0.8) I:: (.) got rid’ve the problem for that moment.

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The Abstract, or story summary, is realized by W’s construal of herself as Theme and as an Agent that fights the problem (note that ergative construals of material clauses interpret the Actor as Agent). W also creates an expectation that she is about to tell a story, by uttering what Sacks (1974: 340) referred to as a (story) preface sequence (I hafta tell you this.). An expectation is, therefore, set up in which W narrates a situation in which she removes herself from the problem’s requirements. In the next stage, Orientation, W outlines the setting by specifying the spatial location of the ‘characters’; F had “gone ou:t. (.) alone” and W was “at home alone”. Why does W repeat the word alone? This becomes clear in the following stages, when W construes herself as having effaced the problem. Since we know that W is alone, we know that W cannot receive outside help. Thus, if a crisis occurs, W is in the vulnerable position of having to attend to the crisis by herself. As already sequentially implicated by the setting, the Complication immediately follows. W begins to sense that the problem is commanding her to do things against her will such as going for a walk. W then evaluates the crisis by recounting the various emotions that she felt; in particular, W becomes confused and wants to cry. In the next stage, W resolves the crisis by positioning herself as a commander and, from an ergative perspective, as an Agent. Instead of the problem commanding, W utters commands (i.e., an I said stop it. jus stop it.) and participates in a series of material Processes (i.e, got up, went, busied myself ) that opposed the problems requirements of her. In the final stage W summarizes the relevance of the narrative by claiming that she eliminated the problem (i.e., I:: (.) got rid’ve the problem for that moment.). In sum, W is able to mobilize problem eliminating resources by turning away from counsellor scaffolded interactions in which she provides examples of the problem’s requirements in terms of agency or commands, to a narrative in which she alone resolves the crisis of being controlled by the problem. W’s narrative reveals an expanded semiotic repertoire in which she is capable of acting in ways that are more preferable to her. A comparison between the different kinds of semiotic resources mobilized during the narrative counselling interview is shown in Table 8.1.

. Social implications of ontogenesis I have argued throughout this book that clients’ new and additional ways of talking about events is informed by the logogenetic counselling process. This means that semiotic resources used in narrative counselling provide clients with the material to expand their semiotic repertoire. Furthremore, It was also

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Table 8.1 A comparison between clients’ beginning, transitional and developed semiotic resources in narrative counselling Beginning Semiotic Repertoire

Transitional Semiotic Repertoire

Developed Semiotic Repertoire

ECFs (Extreme Case Formulations)

(Therapist scaffolding through question/answer and reformulation sequences)

Nominalizing Behaviour

Highly Usual Behaviour Personal Recounts Negative Judgement (high usuality)

Nominalization Causality Problem-Influenced Cognitions

Narratives Problem as Agent / Alternative Behaviour as Agent / Client as Agent Problem/Client as Commander Causality Positive Judgement (Potentiality, Tenacity and Normality)

argued that the counsellor played a pivotal role in scaffolding clients’ semtiotic development. In explaining counsellor scaffolding, I have drawn from Bernstein’s (1990, 1996) concept of the pedagogic discourse – and Christie’s (1997) interpretation of the pedagogic discourse in SFL terms as a regulative context that projects an instructional context – and Vygotsky’s concept of the ZPD. The operation of the pedagogic discourse can be most clearly observed during Clients’ transitional phase of development. In this phase, both the regulative and instructional registers are foregrounded. For instance, the counsellor used the interpersonal resources of exchange structure to get clients to coconstrue the consequential relations of the problem. Through question-answer sequences, clients provided the counsellor with the cognitions instigated by the problem. The clients’ developed semiotic repertoires may be seen as the ‘rewards’ of the pedagogic discourse, since clients were able to construe problem events in alternative ways without counsellor intervention. Nonetheless, the regulative register, and to some degree the instructional register, was still operative in the final phase of semiotic development; the counsellor’s positive appraisals of clients’ narratives and counsellor’s questions that mapped out the person’s influence in the life of the problem continued to direct the course of the counselling interview. At this point, it may be helpful to take a step back and consider what an expanded semiotic repertoire means, and how we might represent this in systemic functional linguistic terms. Ontogenesis in counselling is not nearly the

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same as child language development, or second language learning. Clients, as opposed to language learners, have a fully developed grammar with which they may make meaning in a multitude of contexts; that is, grammatical metaphor, causality and modality are resources that clients draw upon in everyday situations, and are in no way unique to the narrative counselling interview. Counselling is also different from purely educational contexts, in which learners develop their skills in meaning making such that they may realize specific contexts. In school, students learn to produce certain genres that orient to certain purposes. In this way, students gain access to the various goal-directed social processes that they will need for the future. Although it may be tempting to suggest that client ontogenesis translates into mastering new genres, I would argue against this interpretation: Clients do not learn to produce narratives in counselling; they already can do this. For this reason, client ontogenesis should not be viewed as the client’s ability to master a new functional variety of language, or register. How then should we understand this process of clients’ semiotic development? Bernstein’s (1971, 1996) theory of codes offers some answers. According to Bernstein codes are principles of semiotic organization. They influence which meanings a speaker produces in social contexts (i.e., realization), and they also influence how social contexts are understood by the hearer (i.e., recognition). Bernstein (1971: 176) differentiates between elaborated and restricted codes. I shall argue that forms of socialization orient the child towards speech codes which control access to relatively context-tied or relatively contextindependent meanings. Thus I shall argue that elaborated codes orient their users towards universalistic meanings, whereas restricted codes orient, sensitize, their users to particularistic meanings: that the linguistic realization of the two orders are different, and so are the social relationships which realize them. Elaborated codes are less tied to a given or local structure and thus contain the potentiality of change in principles. . . . Restricted codes are more tied to a local social structure and have a reduced potential for change in principles.

It should be emphasized that Berstein is not claiming that language itself is a code. Rather, as mentioned before, code is a principle of semiotic organization that influences how we recognize and produce meaning in a given context. In this way, restricted codes tend to constrain a speakers’ ability to construe social contexts. Bernstein (1971) argued that students with restricted codes tended to associate certain contexts with their everyday life situations. Students with elaborated codes, on the other hand, could reason beyond these everyday

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life situations. Thus, they could reason more abstractly by, for instance, ordering experience in terms of ‘uncommonsense’ (i.e., more technical) taxonomies. Codes are also related to socioeconomic groups (Bernstein actually referred to the working and middle class). Children from less priviledged socioeconomic groups tend to have access to a restricted code, whereas more priviledged children tend to have access to both an elaborated and a restricted code (Bernstein 1971). Bernstein is careful to point out that one code is not ‘better’ than another. Thus, it is not the case that the elaborated code is ‘richer’ in meaning potential. Nor is it the case that speakers with a restricted code have a language deficit. Both codes are equally ‘functional’. The difference lies in how users of different codes interpret the same context, and how different meanings are produced in the same context. The difference between code variation and register variation is summed up in Halliday (2003[1997]: 258): Register variation is semantic variation according to the social context: different activities coevolve with different registers. It thus supports – enables – the social division of labour, while also constraining – consolidating the divisions. Code variaion, on the other hand, is semantic variation that is not driven by the situation: it is variation within “the same” social context.

Turning now back to counselling, it could be argued that narrative counselling operates by varying the clients’ code; or, in other words, varying the principle by which meanings are interpreted and produced (i.e., semiotically organized). Clients began counselling by recounting events in which self or other’s behaviour was negatively judged in terms of high usuality. In this way, ‘problems’ were experienced in terms of everyday, and frequently occurring, life situations. As a response to this, the counsellor introduced an external agent, an abstract problem, that influenced the way in which clients thought and behaved. Through this externalizing narrative practice, clients were able to reason differently about problems, and enact their lives and relationships in alternative ways. Therefore, the counsellor’s scaffolding of client behaviour was largely responsible for expanding the ways in which clients were able to construe and act within a problem situation. Expanding the ways in which clients construe and enact situations ultimately means expanding their code. In sum, a developed code in narrative counselling means that the clients can interpret a problem beyond everyday notions of someone typically, or frequently, doing something. Although code and register are different in terms of how they relate to variation, they can, and perhaps often do, work together in ontogenesis. For example Martin’s (1985a, 1999a) work on genre-based literacy has used genre as an important tool for expanding a student’s potential for making meaning, and for

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challenging the established social order. As Martin (1999a: 124) argued, “Our aim throughout this research was to open access to genres, especially those controlled by mainstream groups – with the faith . . . that this redistribution of discursive resources would involve recontextualizations by non-mainstream groups which would realign power.” Mentoring change, whether it involves new genres, registers or codes, always has the potential for challenging the social order. Change, therefore, has significant political and social consequences. To examine how change influences social groups, we need a concept of change that moves beyond logogenesis and ontogenesis; that is, we need a more comprehensive account of the semo-history of certain cultural practices such as counselling. To gain a more complete understanding of semogenesis, one additional variable should be considered: phylogenesis. It is this evolution of the counselling process that I address in the subsequent and final chapter.

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Chapter 9

Phylogenesis and concluding remarks

. Overview So far, this analysis of counselling semogenesis has considered the textual unfolding of the narrative counselling interview in terms of genres and their realizations (i.e., logogenesis) and the way in which the narrative counselling interview provides clients with the material to expand their semiotic repertoires (i.e., ontogenesis). This chapter considers phylogenesis, the final aspect of counselling semogenesis. I provide a general outline of how counselling as a social process has evolved over the past century, and show how the counselling sessions that I analyzed fit along the phylogenetic scale. Furthermore, by drawing from a different data set involving a different couple and counsellor, I briefly illustrate an alternate unfolding of the process of couples counselling. Additional ways of unfolding not only construe additional logogenetic processes, they also provide different materials for ontogenesis and construe the counselling process on a different point along the phylogenetic scale.

. Phylogenesis Halliday (2003[1972]) defines language as a meaning potential. Paradigmatically, this potential consists of sets of meaningful options (represented as system networks) that are available for use in situations of meaning making. Furthermore, language is not a closed system that is incapable of change. Rather, it is “a dynamic open system; such systems are not autostable but metastable – they persist only through constantly changing by interpenetration with their environment” (Halliday 1992: 26). From this perspective, a system that is not able to interact with, and respond to the needs of, its environment and its users will gradually die away. Halliday and Matthiessen (1999: 17) describe the semogenetic process through which human languages evolve as phylogenesis. In considering the semohistory of a language, we need to take into account of both language as

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system (i.e., meaning potential) and the context of culture, which is instantiated by a set of situation types. For both semiotic levels will, presumably, evolve together. Accounting for the evolution of language systems may take a broad focus in which a culture’s potential to mean, in all situations of language use, is examined over time. The difficulty with this endeavor is, of course, being able to identify all the situations of meaning making that have occurred and are occurring. Insight into phylogenesis may, alternatively, be gained by adopting a more restricted focus in which a sub-component of a culture’s range of practices is considered. An example of the latter is illustrated in Halliday and Martin’s (1993) analysis of science discourse. Here, phylogenesis was limited to the evolution of the professional community of science, which included science education (see also Bazerman 1988 for an account of how the science article evolved over time). Similarly, in the present work phylogenesis is examined in terms of the cultural practice of counselling. Although not all members of a culture participate in the counselling process, counselling is available to many people in a variety of forms. The meaning potential of counselling, in part, relates to the various kinds of ways in which a culture may do counselling. A consideration of the evolving process of counselling with its concomitant expanding meaning potential should include an examination of the different counselling approaches that were and are in use. In the next two sections, I describe how the counselling process has evolved and how the counselling sessions that I have analyzed might relate to this evolution. .. Evolution of counselling Taking a social constructionist or postmodern perspective, cultural change in the western world is marked by three distinct periods: Premodern, Modern and Postmodern (summarized in McLeod 1997: 2–6). The premodern age refers to traditional ways of life that involve religious belief, moral certainty, local government and agricultural work. The modern age, by contrast, moves away from traditional practices through its emphasis on the objectivity of science and moral relativism, the centrality of the nation state and industrial work. In modernism, the individual is viewed as autonomous and bounded. The postmodern age marks yet another shift; science, knowledge and morality are no longer objective and certain but are socially constructed. Moreover, a relational view of thought and action is adopted. In this view, identity is not found within individuals but between them. Because of this, the self is characterized as relational, fragmented or saturated. Social networks have, in postmoderism,

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moved beyond the bounds of the nation state. Instead, global networks have now become the focus. These periods are also constitutive of distinct cultural practices. For example, while modern practices orient to an autonomous self, postmodern practices orient to a relational self. According to McLeod (1997), counselling practices have also evolved along these three dimensions. Traditional forms of counselling, he argues, were strongly rooted in religious practices. Members of a community (or parish) who exhibited problems or troubles were required to be the focus of a collective ritual. Here, the other members of the community or parish would participate in the ‘healing’ of the individual. Healing would generally involve confession and repentence, which served the goal of leading the individual back onto the path of salvation. In the modern period, counselling became more and more influenced by scientific theory and practice rather than religion. The healing metaphor is also used in this period but it is used within a medical model of disease and treatment rather than a religious one of repentance and confession. In addition, problems were regarded as lodged within individuals and, more specifically, these problems were claimed to be caused by psychological malfunctioning. Treatment, therefore, was directed at the patient’s inner psychic-world. One explanation for the appearance of modern counselling practices was the goal of explaining social behaviour in terms of the prevailing scientific theories. Other explanations involve economics. Cushman (1995), for instance, argues that counselling was a force of modern capitalism in which social responsibility and public action was individualized or privatized, and personal identity was promoted through consumption. Building on Cushman’s work, Cloud (1998: xx) outlines counselling’s socio-political dimension by arguing that it “dislocates social and political conflicts onto individuals or families, privatizes both the experience of oppression and possible modes of resistance to it, and translates political questions into psychological issues to be resolved through personal, psychological change.” With the onset of social constructionist and postmodern theory, counselling practices evolved, in part, as a reaction and challenge to modernist counselling practices. Hoffman (1992: 9) identifies these social constructionist reactions as oriented to the “sacred cows of modern psychology.” These comprise challenges to modernist claims of objective social research, the self, developmental psychology, and the emotions. Social constructionists do not believe in an objective reality that can be measured or detected through scientific investigation; instead, they argue that reality is socially constructed, which means that reality is constitutive of social actors’ practices and that reality can

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be shaped by social actors in a variety of ways. A socially constructed view of reality has also led social constructionists to re-think the counsellor-client relationship. Anderson and Goolishian (1992), for example, advocate that counsellors adopt a “not-knowing” approach in which the client, not the counsellor, is deemed the expert. Through Anderson and Goolishian’s approach, the counsellor-client relationship is not hierarchically organized around a counsellor who can know objectively; rather, counselling sessions are seen as social arenas in which all participants contribute to how problems get constructed and dis-solved. Building on the view that social reality is co-constructed, social constructionists also take a relational view of the self. In this way, identity is not bounded within an individual but is realized through the relationships that social actors have with others. Therefore, much of who we are finds expression in our ways of relating with others. Because of this, there can be no single identity. Social constructionists have also challenged the claim that social actors move through pre-determined developmental stages. Hoffman argues instead that development should be seen as discontinuous and not progressive. Here again, social constructionists are arguing against positing objective parameters that describe optimal human development. While some stages of growth may be accurately mapped onto some individuals, other individuals may have undergone different stages of growth without having experienced any development ‘setbacks’. Emotions are also given a different status in social constructionist theory. For instance, emotions are not placed in opposition to rationality. Emotions are a resource for meaning-making. In this way, emotions do discursive work; they are not merely observed or noticed. As Buttny (1993: 87) argues, “to avow anger implies some appraisal of an incident which justifies one’s emotional reaction. Affect display works interactionally to demonstrate or intensify a person’s critical assessment of the event. The uses of negative affect may be seen as a person’s procedure for presenting an event as problematic – for showing the seriousness of the event – to mark it as out of the ordinary and as a way to intensify it.” ... Some remarks on types of modernist counselling McLeod (1997) groups counselling approaches – he actually uses the term psychotherapy – in terms of the degree to which they orient to modernist or postmodernist theory. He does, however, point out that many approaches cannot be neatly categorized as one or the other but are a mixture of the two. For McLeod, modernist counselling includes psychodynamic and contructivist ap-

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proaches. These McLeod (1997: 54) describes “as foundationalist, in that they employ narrative and story as a means of gaining access to more ‘foundational’ levels of psychological reality.” It is assumed in psychodynamic approaches that clients act with respect to a core ‘life-story’ or meta-narrative. Examples include mythic dramas such as Freud’s (1900) reading of Oedipus or personal narratives proposed by MacAdams (1993) that involve agency (i.e., the warrior, the traveler) or community (i.e., the lover, the caregiver). In these cases, the client’s language is taken to be epiphenomenonal to an underlying psychological construct. Clients’ talk is merely a manifestation of an underlying (problematic) psychological reality. In short, meaning-making arises from and is primarily bounded to the individual. McLeod also gives constructivist approaches a modernist reading. Constructivism tends to be associated with cognitive therapies. Here, client utterances are also representations of an underlying psychological reality, but the focus is more on mental schemas or scripts that clients possess for interpreting an external reality. McLeod identifies process research as constructivist. For example, the studies in Rice and Greenberg (1984) and Toukmanian and Rennie (1992) all take clients’ psychological constructs into account. In describing how client change comes about, Rice and Greenberg (1984: 14) argue that: . . . there are at least three levels of abstraction at which one might attempt to understand what the client needs to do in therapy in order to achieve change. The first level, which we shall refer to as client process, concerns the manifest client performance in the session. The second level, which we designate as client operations, concerns the client’s internal mental operations. The elementary information-processing operations of cognitive psychology constitute the third level . . . . Specification of client operations involves drawing an inference from the observable process about the internal operation the client is actually carrying out.

However, despite the cognitive orientation of process research, Rice and Greenberg do acknowledge, to a degree, that meaning is socially constructed. This becomes apparent when they suggest that client meaning depends on the activity they are presently engaged in and is influenced by the relationship with the counsellor (see especially Horvath’s 1981 examination of the therapeutic alliance). ... Some remarks on types of postmodernist counselling Postmodernist forms of counselling generally fall under the rubric of social constructionism. It would, however, be misleading to suggest that social con-

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structionism comprises a fixed set of procedures or premises for understanding and doing counselling. There are, as McNamee and Gergen (1992: 2) point out, a number of disciplines that have reacted against modernist theories and have aligned themselves with postmodern tenets. Included in this list are critical theorists, family therapists, community psychologists, feminist scholars, phenomenologists, hermeneuticists and, to a degree, constructivists. Some of the approaches most strongly associated with social constructionism are family systems counselling, collaborative solution-oriented counselling and narrative counselling. Family systems theory arose from Bateson’s (1972) studies in cybernetics (for a discussion see Peräkylä 1995: 6). In systems theory, counsellor and clients are viewed as participating in a system of meaning to which no one person has privileged access. For this reason, Anderson and Goolishian (1992) argue that counsellors adopt a not-knowing approach. Not-knowing does not imply that counsellors do not bring past experiences and knowledge to the counselling session. Instead, it means that counsellors do not assume, a priori, that clients’ problems fit within a common pattern. The idea is that clients bring a unique story to the counselling session and that counsellors must endeavor to discover what that story is. Meaning-making is, in the hermeneutic sense, a continuous back-and-forth between counsellor and client. An important counselling practice in family systems theory is the use of questions to create new forms of understanding. These questions are often referred to as circular or socratic questions (Anderson & Goolishian 1992: 34). Rather than imposing an interpretation on what clients have said, these circular questions look to future possibilities and attempt to get clients to move to the “not-yet-said” (ibid: 34). Circular questions, for instance, get clients to comment on their own behaviour by taking on the perspective of someone else. Some examples of these types of questions include “How important would your husband say group activities are to you? . . . How would he say you demonstrate your position on this issue?” (McNamee 1992: 195). Another social constructionist approach is termed solution-oriented (de Shazer 1985; O’Hanlon 1992). As with the family systems approach, this approach also orients to future actions and possibilities. An attempt is made to construct problems that are solvable. Some of the defining features of a solution-oriented model include counsellor-client co-construction of problem and solution, individualization of goals to client’s unique experiences, orientation to future possibilities and the uncovering of client’s resources for overcoming problems.

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The final social constructionist approach, which I have focused on in most of this book, is narrative counselling. In this approach, narrative is not, as in psychodynamic approaches, interpreted as an all-encompassing metanarrative that determines clients’ behaviours. Nor is narrative a cognitive construct that comprises a mental script for acting. In McLeod’s (1997: 51) words, “the therapeutic narrative, then, can be viewed as an attempt by the client to ‘narrativise’ a problematic experience through the production of a series of stories connected by linking passages and therapist interventions.” What constitutes a narrative in social constructionism is, however, a point of contention. It ranges from virtually any claim made by the client to a discursive genre with identifiable stages such as those proposed by Labov and Waletzky (1967). Some of the most influential work in narrative counselling has come from White and Epston (1990), who propose that counselling sessions be used as settings for clients to re-author their lives. The main premise behind this aim is that clients tend to get ‘stuck’ in certain problem narratives and that counselling should be used to provide clients with the resources to construct new narratives for acting and experiencing. .. Where along the phylogenetic scale? In this section I speculate on the degree to which the narrative counsellor’s discursive practices realize a modernist or postmodernist approach to counselling. Before attempting this, I should mention again that the information concerning the counsellor’s approach or theoretical orientation was not available to me before analyzing the counselling sessions; that is, I did not ask what kind of counselling the counsellor was apprenticed in or what kind of counselling he claims to use in his sessions. By stating this, I do not mean to imply that in order to find out what a counsellor does, we need only ask her or him. To find this out, counselling must be examined in terms of logogenesis. Because, without the information on counsellors’ claims of what they do, I can not compare what they say they do and what they actually do. After having analyzed the counselling sessions, I was able to conclude that the counsellor drew extensively from Epston and White’s (1990) narrative approach. First of all, the “externalizing of the problem” is mirrored in the counsellor’s assertion that the person isn’t the problem .hh the problem is the problem, and in his reformulating practices of identifying problems. Second, the counsellor also reproduces the narrative language of “mapping the influence of the problem.” In Examples (9:1) and (9:2) below, it is shown how C articulates Epston and White’s proposed technique. In the former, C expresses

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his wish of mapping out the influence of indecisiveness; and in (9:2), a similar wish is expressed in terms of mapping this out. (9:1) (A08P2) 01 C: okay so let’s look at u::m ah indecisiveness ((sound of papers rustling)) 02 .hh ahh w: I think 03 what we want to do here is m:: what we call mapping out 04 the influence of indecisiveness .hh u::::m (1.5) 05 I want 06 ya tuh sort’ve think u::::h (1.0) 07 imagine I’m sort’ve (9:2) (A08P5) 01 C: (.) this is this is the sillyness of what happens yeah? (.) 02 em (.) but this (.) I’m wrong sayin it wrong .hh is (0.8) 03 um a powerful idea that’s (.) as I said mediating your 04 relationship with yourself .hh and with Fred. yeah? 05 (0.8) um .hh u::::h (1.0) uh uh I’d really like 06 tuh spend some time m mapping this out. (.) 07 like what we say mapping it out 08 which means (.) um developing a clear idea of the ways 09 in which (.) uh it affects you. 10 is is it depression inviting.

A final way in which C’s practices construe White and Epston’s narrative approach is his use of letters at the beginning of each session. Each letter reformulates the past session and is addressed specifically to each client. From a re-authoring perspective, it could be claimed that these letters invite clients to develop different ways of talking about problems. In the earlier sessions, clients learn to use a problems-vocabulary; in the latter, clients learn to construe themselves, and not the problem, as Agents. Put differently, the letters and sessions invite client ontogenesis. Locating those instances where C reproduces White and Epston’s narrative language does not, however, give much insight into how this technique is semiotically realized. To do this, one must look at meaning-making from a functional and, preferably, from a semiotic perspective; and the bulk of the analysis in this book has done just that. It has shown how stages within the counselling process such as Problem Identification (i.e., externalizing the problem or separating oneself from the problem), Problem Agency (i.e., mapping it

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out), client as senser, etc. are semiotically realized. It has addressed one of the central aims of process research by providing a fine-grained description of the counselling process. In sum, my analysis has demonstrated that an SFL analysis can identify a counselling approach. Further research is needed to see whether other approaches can be idenfied in this way. The important implication of this is that counselling approaches can be explained in terms of macro-genres. In this way, we may gain considerable insight into how specific semiotic practices may facilitate change. Moving back to the phylogenetic scale, C’s counselling practices are, for the most part, social constructionist. C does not, for instance, deploy expert or technical knowledge to identify problems; he does not reformulate clients’ formulations of events with respect to counselling taxonomies. Instead, C’s reformulations make use of abstraction to transform clients’ congruent formulation of events into abstract (i.e., nominalized) things, so that the events may, reasoning with the relational clause, adopt the Value of ‘problem’ and participate as Agents in causative clauses. C’s reformulating practices, therefore, maintain a close link to clients’ originally formulated meanings. C also does not search for a single problem that affects both clients. Throughout the sessions, problems continuously get identified following clients’ ECFs of self or other’s behaviour. Finally, C encourages clients to re-author events. When clients construe themselves as Agents or as doing behaviours that oppose the problem, C positively appraises these behaviours and helps clients to expand on them. Nonetheless, some of C’s practices could be interpreted as veering more towards modernist approaches rather than social constructionist ones. One way is the heavy emphasis placed on causality throughout the sessions. As White and Epston point out, the practice of isolating causes, as for example identifying the correct problem that causes negative behaviours, are drawn from the positivist physical sciences. In social constructionism, it is not causes that are focused on but “opening space for the authoring of alternative stories.” Indeed for social constructionists, it seems that cause is a taboo word. What is preferred are lexical or conjunctive variants of causal semantics. White and Epston, for instance, speak of influence rather than cause; but have they really gotten rid of a causal semantics? When the problem invites the client to think X, cause is realized. The same holds true for the problem influences the client. Terms such as influence, invite, and effect used as Processes or Participants realize cause just as get, make, force and cause (i.e., make X do Y) do. Perhaps there is a difference in magnitude or degree such that make me do X implies a direct Cause whereas influenced me implies numerous possible other Causes or indirect Cause; but regardless, the semantics of Cause is realized in either case.

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Another way of parading causal semantics as something else is to make the semantics ambiguous to temporality or causality. Sluzki (1992: 224), for instance, recommends realizing causality through questions such as “what was going on before this problem emerged.” What these kinds of questions do is use temporal conjunctions (i.e., before) to realize effects in terms of a Result. Now, of course, behaviours that precede other behaviours can be given a temporal reading, but of what relevance is that for clients? It seems to me that social constructionists do want to make use of causal semantics but are afraid of its possible associations with modernist approaches. To remain in the spirit of social constructionism, counsellors could be explicit about causality while pointing out that other causes are possible. In other words, even though there is no single Cause, its still alright to talk about causality; and, it seems to me that C has been able to do that without seriously compromising the social constructionist project (for a discussion see Muntigl 2004). Another way in which C’s practices veer towards modernist approaches is the narrative counselling interview’s realization of a pedagogic discourse. Regulation is foregrounded in this pedagogic practice and, according to Bernstein, regulation involves creating or maintaining a certain social order. Reformulating clients’ formulations places C in the position of expert, even if his reformulations are grammatically tied to clients’ grammar. Since, by reformulating, C reconstrues clients’ experiential and social reality, it is C’s reconstrual of clients’ reality and not clients’ construal that is ultimately accepted and negotiated throughout the sessions. C’s higher status is also realized through exchange structure. C requests information from the client and uses this information to enable counselling to move along the problem construction and problem effacement genres. C’s regulative practices also tie in with Bernstein’s (1996) concept of classification. According to Bernstein (1996: 101): Classification was used to refer to the relations between categories, these relations being given by their degree of insulation from each other. Thus strong insulation created categories, clearly bounded, with a space for the development of a specialized identity, whereas the weaker the insulation, the less specialized the category.

An example of classification in counselling involves the categories of expert and novice. In strong internal classification involving the counsellor and the clients, the counsellor is the expert and the clients are, by contrast, novices. This strong insulation between categories holds true in the problem construction genre but, as clients begin to develop their semiotic repertoires, they develop

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towards becoming experts in using counselling resources of abstraction and causality. Therefore, it could be argued that as counselling progresses, classification moves from strong to some value between strong and weak, and from modernist (counsellor is expert) to postmodernist (client is also the expert). Important also for identifying a pedagogic practice such as counselling is its degree of framing. Bernstein (1996: 101) defines framing as: the locus of control over the selection, sequencing, pacing and criteria of the knowledge to be acquired. Thus with strong framing (+F) control lies with the teacher, whereas with weak framing (–F) control lies apparently with the student.

In the counselling data that I examined, it appeared that the counsellor was very much in control of the counselling practices of the narrative approach; that is, it was through the counsellor’s efforts that problems were identified, associated with agency, etc. The counsellor was the initiator of the stages of each genre and clients ratified counsellor actions by either ratifying counsellor’s aims or by displaying that they too can master the counselling practices of abstraction and agency. Furthermore, the counsellor even went to great efforts to get clients to return to the ‘preferred’ genres of the narrative interview when clients digressed from these genres (see Sections 6.4 and 7.4). I would assume that for clients to take control of the social process, they would have to initiate different practices, practices that are not, in this case, necessarily consistent with the narrative approach. Because of the directive and goal-oriented strategies deployed by the counsellor, narrative counselling could be interpreted as a visible pedagogy. As Bernstein (1996: 116) remarks, a visible pedagogy refers to “the practice . . . when the hierarchical relations between teacher and pupils, the rules or organization (sequence, pace) and the criteria were explicit and so known to the pupils.” For Bernstein (1990: 72) pedagogic practices may be identified in terms of being visible or invisible (see Figure 9.1). As seen from the figure, Bernstein examines visible and invisible pedagogies along two axes. The vertical axis refers to the object of change, whereas the horizontal axis refers to the focus of the pedagogic practice. In the former, change is identified in terms of either occurring within the individual (e.g., Progressive and behaviourist pedagogies) or between social groups (Critical and social psychological pedagogies). In the latter, the focus is on whether change occurs through the acquisition of competences (e.g., Progressive and critical pedagogies) or the transmission and development of performance (e.g., Behaviourist and social psychological pedagogies).

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invisible pedagogy

visible pedagogy

Progressive theory (e.g., Piaget, Chomsky, Gestalt)

Behaviourist theory (e.g., Skinner)

Acquisition [competence]

Transmission [performance]

Critical theory (e.g., Freire, Giroux)

Social psychological theory (e.g., Vygotsky, Bruner, Halliday)

Inter-group

Figure 9.1 Types of pedagogy (after Martin 1999: 125 and Bernstein 1990: 213)

As mentioned before, narrative counselling is a visible pedagogy and so is best positioned along the transmission end of Figure 9.1; that is, narrative counselling aims to expand clients’ ability to make meaning (performance) in problem contexts. Thus, in terms of the horizontal axis, narrative counselling veers towards social constructionism. What about in terms of targeting the individual or the social groups – the vertical axis? And how would that correspond to modernist vs. postmodernist practice? In their reaction against modernism, social constructionists have also rejected the idea of a bounded autonomous self (Cushman 1995). Whereas modernist counselling approaches individualize client problems by placing problems inside people’s heads, social constructionist approaches argue for the socially constructed nature of problems. Problems, in this sense, exist within social relationships and do not point to a psychological malfunctioning. One of the questions concerning the socially constructed nature of problems is how far to cast the net. If problems exist within social relationships, how many networks should be taken into account? Couples counselling deals with this issue by, as the name already suggests, having both parties attend the sessions. Any attempt at identifying problems begins, therefore, with the couples’ relationship. This is of no surprise because one of the couples’ main reasons for attending is that the couple thinks that they have a problem. Family counselling

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tends to cast the net even wider by having the whole family present at each session. Here, the problem might be the result of not one relationship between two family members but a complex set of inter-relationships. One could however argue, as Cloud (1998) does, that placing the problem within couples’ or family relationships is also privatizing – not individual but merely one step beyond to include the dyad or family unit (From this perspective narrative counselling would fall into the upper right quadrant of Figure 9.1). Cloud’s argument is that this view of problems tends to mask the ‘larger’ social injustices that cause people to feel problems ‘individually’ or as being within the family. Cloud argues that social injustices such as the unequal distribution of wealth (i.e., poverty) and oppression (i.e., of women or minority groups) are, in effect, the primary issues. So, rather than examining the problems of the self or the relationship, a more critical eye should be cast on the oppressive situation that people find themselves in. It might be instructive to relate Cloud’s arguments to the counselling sessions and ask where, for counsellor and clients, the problems are located. By externalizing problems, C avoids having them individualized. Instead problems become events that externally instigate clients’ behaviour (i.e., cause clients to act negatively). For Cloud, externalizing problems would probably not go far enough because the question still remains: what causes these problematic events in the first place? Although C rarely proceeds down this path, he does on occasion allude to societal or cultural factors that explain client behaviour. In Ex. (9:3), C offers a reason to explain W’s tendency to be accommodating. C mentions, in lines 11–16, that being accommodating is a product of socialization and that its also a gender thing. In this way, W’s behaviour is seen in a larger cultural context, which would move narrative counselling down the vertical axis in Figure 9.1 towards inter-group change. Problems are no longer merely events that spring up from certain interactional episodes with one’s partner; rather, problems are seen in terms of being socialized in a culture that expects women to act in certain ways. (9:3) (A08P4) 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

W: .hh (3.5) .hh becuz uh I mean I I a::m:: (.) me:: an problem .hh is in here its its ( ) it is [(right here) ] C: [we::ll that’s ] an interesting thought. maybe its not. (3.5) W: I can’t [imagine that I’ve ] created (1.5) C: [maybe its n]

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→ → → → → → → →

09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

W: buh eh maybe I haven’t created but some .hh something has created this with me:: C: .hh well y’know that women in our culture are s:: are care uh socialized to uh be very accommodating .hh its also a gender thing. (1.0) .hh and whatch you doing is you’re:: uh whatch your doing is you’re saying I won’t (.) be this kind’ve woman anymore. W: no C: I won’t be this typical woman who has to comodate to everybody else= W: =I wanted tuh be a lawy::er (1.8) hhheh [heh ] C: [well ] ya see:: W: heh heh [heh]

Identifying a problem, whether its lodged within events or a culture, seems to demand a response if it occurs in the counselling process. In the sessions examined, problematic events are met with opposing events; so, if the problem is indecision, clients should be able to create situations in which they decide. What if the problem is socialization or gender oppression? In lines 15–16 and 18–19, C’s reformulation of W’s alternative behaviour against the problem is that she refuses to act in accordance with how she was socialized (i.e., whatch your doing is you’re saying I won’t (.) be this kind’ve woman anymore. . . . I won’t be this typical woman who has to comodate to everybody else). Now, there are at least two ways to interpret the effects of C’s reformulation. One reading would be that C is not addressing the ‘real’ problem of socialization. What must be changed is the socialization process – women’s ontogenesis if you will – such that women’s behaviours and other’s expectations of their behaviours get transformed. So, saying that you will not be the product of your socialization effects minimal change on a cultural scale. It might enable W to develop her semiotic repertoire but it does little for phylogenesis since other women are still being socialized in this negative way. A second reading might be that, whereas the points listed in the first reading hold true, developing one clients’ semiotic repertoire is a step in changing a culture’s semiotic repertoire; that is, client ontogenesis in terms of acting against women’s oppression may help to provide the materials for directing phylogenesis such that ‘women’ will no longer be constrained to act in negative ways. This view becomes plausible, especially if we consider that an increasing number of couples are attending counselling and that postmodern counselling is becoming more commonly practiced. Bor-

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rowing from Halliday’s (1992) concept of instantiation, alternative instances of meaning making, if a significant number of instances occur, will change the system (the overall meaning potential), just as changes in weather will ultimately influence the climate. Therefore, as more and more couples expand the way that they are able to recognize and produce problem contexts (i.e., expand their code), the greater the chance that their children will be socialized to recognize and produce meaning in this way. In sum, it might be too much to expect that couples counsellors deal explicitly with both relationship and cultural problems. If couples come with a set of relationship problems, should counsellors direct the talk to deal with gender or economic issues? In the proposed model of semogenesis, it is argued that logogenesis projects ontogenesis, which in turn projects phylogenesis. So, what happens within the walls of the counselling room can impact, however small this might be, on cultural practices. However, in order to do this, counsellors must have an idea of how counselling logogenesis can feed into phylogenesis. Much more work needs to be done on semogenesis for this aim to be realized.

. Alternative counselling interview One of the implications from this study on the semogenesis of the narrative counselling interview concerns its applicability or relatedness to other forms of counselling; that is, do the genres (and their concomitant stages) that I have described become realized in other counselling approaches? Although I consider this question to be an extension of my work – that is, for future research on counselling semogenesis – I would like to illustrate that counselling practices such as problem construction do indeed manifest themselves in other approaches. In order to demonstrate this, I examine an excerpt from a different counselling session involving a different counsellor and different couple. My focus here is on problem construction. The counselling approach shown in Ex. (9:4) below – identifiable as systemic – is more modernist in its orientation. By this I mean that the counsellor tends to individualize a client’s problem by searching for emotional childhood traumas. In this way, the origin or cause of present problematic events is not to be found in the current local context in which they take place; rather, past events that occurred in childhood in the form of emotional traumas are viewed as causing certain behaviours in adult life. Although the locus of problems is different in this excerpt, many of the counselling practices remain the same. For instance, problem construction is

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also realized here: C reformulates events into abstract things (i.e., nominalizes events) and construes problems as Agents that cause client behaviour. As is typical for problem identification, events become nominalized (e.g., venting in lines 682 and 703; rage in lines 737, 756, 759 and 766); and, once problems get identified, they become Agents that cause further behaviour or they become the Result of some agentive behaviour (e.g., trigger in lines 714, 731 and 736). The example below illustrates these stages of problem construction (nominalizations in bold; cause realized in a Process in italics). (9:4) (U53/2/5) 674 W: and uh uhm (1.3) just goes 675 and uses the hammer all day at work → 676 and is able to sort’ve vent his anger in that way 677 if he has to? 678 I can’t do that. 679 so I try not to yell at the kids 680 and maybe if that’s having 681 if I’m having a really bad day → 682 the yelling the anger venting comes out on him. (1.0) 683 but I think 684 that’s at least ba(hh)d heh heh heh on the [kids 685 but I don’t ] know what else . . . → 703 C: so one thing one thing I think is the venting for sure 704 I mean 705 I’m hearing 706 that you’re both agreeing. 707 correct me 708 if I’m wr709 you’re both agreeing 710 that .hh some some physical something might help (0.7) 711 [to ] vent it. 712 W: [yeah ] → 713 C: but there’s another piece that I am wondering about → 714 and that’s what triggers that (1.2) 715 and and if there were a way to look at that. 716 I mean 717 clearly if Mark you sa::y

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→ → → → → → →

→

718 719 720 721 722 723 724 725 726 727 728 729 730 731 732 733 734 735 736 737 738 739 740 741 742 743 744 745 746 747 748 749 750 751 752 753 754 755 756 757

W: C: M: C:

W:

M: W: W:

C: W:

y’know Wendy you’re uh (1.0) you’re just like your mother. (1.0) you can bet dollars to doughnuts she’s gonna go up you one side of you and down the other right? mm you know so uh and that’s just you know you’re setting yourself up. yeah just as you know if you swear at him .hh uh then he’s gonna (0.8) tha- not he’s not gonna like that not very much. y’know so y’know there are some triggers but I’m wondering about .hh what triggers it when you get angry can y- [can you give an example ] [y’know there’s:: ] really stupid triggers. I do feel like complete rage over stupid things sometimes .hh um hhh they are stupid I’ll tell you my example .hh they’re stupid (0.5) in our bathroom (0.5) the towel rack (0.8) falls off (1.0) once every three days. (0.8) I don’t think [its ] once every three days [and ] really like uh it falls off and I get completely mad and think like can not do anything. (1.4) and I I feel mad fer like a half an hour fer something so stupid uh huh I know its stupid and yet I feel like I say almost a rage like (2.0) I dunno I have uh

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→ 758 → 759 760 761 762 763 → 764 → 765 → 766 767 768 769 770 771 772 773 774 775 776 777 → 778 → 779 780 781 782 783 784 785

C:

W: C: W: C:

W:

C: W: C:

W: M: C:

822 C: 823 824 825 826 827 828 829

can you remember the first time in your life Wendy (1.0) that you felt that rage. (3.5) well, u:::::h before we’re talking before Mark yeah my brother. can you tell me about that. what about your brother. when you first remember experiencing that rage. (1.4) u:::hm (2.0) wha I well I remember really young just wishing he was dead. we we always fought and had uh he he always (1.5) was beating me up after school and (kicked up things) (8.0) sorry uh huh this is emotional for you? yeah ((softly crying)) (6.0) well at least ( ) (1.0) the hurt is still there. its right there. jus right there. (2.5) well we never resolved it ( ). (1.2) we still like I say don’t really talk an ((coughs)) its so hard to work at that with something unresolved (like that) from a brother . . . mhm (5.0) ((W sniffs)) so it sounds to me like if you’re acting like an appropriate and mature adult .hh taking the (side) for example and dealing with things and trying to explain things in a rational way .hh that you still got (1.0) the b’jesus kicked out of you ((M coughs)) you you e- e- motionally. you’re frightened by your mum and he’s he’s on to you

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830 831 832 833 834

→ → → → → → → → →

→ → → → →

861 C: 862 863 864 865 866 867 868 869 870 871 872 873 874 875 876 877 878 879 880 881 882 883 884 885 886 887 888 889

not hearing anything about your side y’know that this is jus your own children and what the hell is he doing something acting like that and uh ya get (cracked). . . . mmhm (1.0) .hh so I’m just I’m picking up something about if we go back to the bathroom. I’ve been thinking the bathroom that though its a small thing .hh that if we look at it in terms of a bigger picture of ts of you not being heard. of you not being ((M coughs)) and if you go back and if you go back in time to wh- what happened (1.5) if you put the stuff that youhow you were not heard how someone else was favoured over you how siblings favoured over you. your brother and then in fact .hh anyone working on would say this is unjust (1.2) like you won’t heard. so I just see that y’know I know you’re saying that this is just a little thing (0.7) but I’m not so sure its such a little thing. because its it might look like on the surface a little thing like if ya say ( ) y’know what’s the matter ya can’t take it out then he comes home and takes care of it . . .

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→ → → → → → → → → →

→ →

935 936 937 938 939 940 941 942 943 944 945 946 947 948 949 950 951 952 953 954 955 956 957 958 959 960 961 962 963 964 965 966 967 968 969

C:

W: C: W: C: W: C: W:

well maybe we could we’re at the end of our time for today and maybe we could talk about it more next time .hh but jus just thought that I’m having Wendy and .hh you can help me if I’m if ((M coughs)) that if I’m off on this or that yes there’s stuff that Mark forgets and and and he wh- wh- wh- hhhh and that’s I’m on I’m just picking up that (I’m on my wha- best) really really pisses you off um for christ sake he’s gonna (start some) working and do this thing .hh (0.8) on the other hand I s:: I just picked up something much deeper today. which is about earlier on in the an an this isn’t the first time that you’ve been not that yer you haven’t heard or paid attention to .hh or you said something and it wasn’t listened to or not ((M coughs)) not heard. an that’s so that my guess is that this is not is about (0.8) that stuff in the bathroom but its also about .hh something very old and very deep. (0.7) does does that mhm sort’ve sit thatmhm yeah. yeah I [mean that’s ] that’s the hard one (1.0) [I think definitely ] that’s a hard one my dad just told him last year that was one of the reasons they divorced was that they see I I actually triggered them (in those things)

At the very beginning of this example, lines 674–685, W formulates events in which she or her husband vents out emotions such as anger. W accounts for her venting by drawing a comparison between her husband’s ability to vent his anger at work by using a hammer and her inability to do this; that is, W

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Phylogenesis and concluding remarks 

does not possess the same means (i.e., a hammer) for venting her emotions and this accounts for why W yells or gets angry at her husband or her children (see lines 682–685). Now, in W’s turn, one of the central behaviours involves venting. This behaviour begins as a Process in line 676 but gets reformulated by W in line 682: 676 W: and is able to sort’ve vent his anger in that way 682 W: the yelling the anger venting comes out on him. (1.0)

Through this reformulation, W nominalizes the Process, transforming it into an abstract thing. It could therefore be argued that much of the work of problem identification has already been done by W; and if we look to line 703, we see that this is indeed the case. Here, C uses an identifying relational clause to reformulate W’s prior talk on venting (i.e., so one thing one thing I think is the venting for sure). C construes the venting as the Token of an exemplifying clause; that is, the Token is made an example of an important client behaviour. so one thing one thing I think is the venting for sure Value Token

Through this relational clause, one of the stages of problem construction, Problem Identification, has been realized. In the other counselling sessions, it would be then expected that C introduces causality by construing the problem as an Agent. A similar kind of process occurs in this example. C also introduces causality but instead of making venting the Agent of client behaviour, C looks for the cause of venting; in other words, venting is the Result of some other not-yet-specified behaviour. So, while narrative counselling looks forward, or remains in the present, by searching for behaviours that the problem causes, this counselling looks backwards by searching for prior causes of venting. Causality is first realized in lines 713–714 (i.e., “but there’s another piece that I am wondering about and that’s what triggers that”). Here, cause is realized by the Process triggers in which the deictic pronoun that refers anaphorically to the venting. Additional causal constructions are found in lines 731 and 733. In the former, C nominalizes cause by realizing it within an existential clause (i.e., so y’know there are some triggers). What C is doing here is asking W to provide the Agent of her emotional behaviour. By way of response, W, in line 736, first reformulates C’s line 733 (i.e., y’know there’s:: really stupid triggers.). Instead of providing congruent formulations of events in which cause is somehow realized, W begins with an abstraction in which Cause is treated as an abstract thing. Subsequent to this, W then provides the triggering behaviour:

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 Chapter 9

rage. This behaviour undergoes a series of reformulations in the subsequent 30 lines: from complete rage → a rage → that rage. These transformations are illustrated below: 737 756 758 759 766

W: I do feel like complete rage over stupid things . . . W: and yet I feel like I say almost a rage like (2.0) C: can you remember the first time in your life Wendy (1.0) that you felt that rage. C: when you first remember experiencing that rage.

One of the most significant transformations involves movement from a nonspecific rage to a specific one. This movement is realized by nominal group semantics. W uses non-specific Deictics (i.e., complete and a); so for W, rage does not specifically refer to any one event in which she experienced that emotion. This changes with C’s use of nominal group semantics. By uttering that rage, C implies that W’s current experiences of rage when the towel rack fell off in the bathroom consist of a certain type of rage. This is because that functions as a specific Deictic referring to a single referent. Therefore, although W’s formulations describe rage as a general emotion that triggers venting, C’s reformulations imply a single rage experienced by W that keeps manifesting itself across time. C further strengthens his claim that W’s rage is specific and unique through temporality: Specific rages have a history – even for such cases when a towel rack falls down – and so there must be a first time in which the rage was experienced. It is at this point that the two counselling practices dramatically diverge. In the narrative counselling approach, problems were identified from clients’ formulation of events and were construed as Agents that cause client cognitions. In this counselling approach, the focus is on childhood trauma. Experientially, client behaviour is construed in terms of affect (i.e., rage, hurt, venting) and perception (i.e., feel, experience) rather than cognition. Now, I am not arguing that the former narrative approach would not consider childhood traumas; it is just that the counsellor never made it a point to actively search for these traumas. Clients in the former counselling sessions did of course talk about childhood experiences and did relate these experiences to how they behaved in the present. The difference is more that C did not look for past events occurring in childhood to explain present phenomena or use affect or perception to construe client behaviours. The remainder of Ex. (9:4) deals with the origins of W’s specific rage. W points to events involving her brother in which she was physically mistreated

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(i.e., he he always (1.5) was beating me up after school and (kicked up things)). In lines 768–775 she demonstrates her (negative) appreciation of these traumatic events by crying. In interpersonal terms, W negatively appraises these experiences of her brother’s abuse. These reactions are then reformulated by C as a nominalization (i.e., the hurt). Additional connections between W’s feelings of rage when the towel rack falls down and past childhood events are made in lines 861 onwards. Here, C argues that seemingly small incidents that occur in bathrooms can be interpreted within a larger frame (i.e,. “the bathroom that though its a small thing .hh that if we look at it in terms of a bigger picture of ts of you not being heard.”). In C’s claim, causality is once again introduced. This time, however, the cause is not rage at her brother’s abuse but at not being treated equally (i.e., you not being heard, how someone else was favoured over you, how siblings favoured over you. your brother). C, therefore, treats clients’ formulations of present events as ‘symptoms’ of underlying emotions experienced in childhood. In lines 948–949, for instance, C states that on the other hand I s:: I just picked up something much deeper today. In this way, rage that W experiences when the towel rack falls off is merely a symptom for an underlying cause, for something much deeper. These underlying causes have their origins in childhood when W was abused by her brother and was not treated equally by her parents. So again, as C remarks in lines 956–958, current events only gain significance when framed within a history of their occurrence and cause (i.e., that this is not is about (0.8) that stuff in the bathroom but its also about .hh something very old and very deep.). To summarize, by making a comparison between two (or more) different counselling approaches, insight can be gained as to how the logogenetic processes – the different meanings activated from one stage of the genre to the next – of each approach differs or is the same. It was shown that the stages of Problem Identification and Problem Agency are virtually the same. Differences began to emerge in terms of where problems were located. In the narrative social constructionist approach, problem events remained very much in the hear-and-now. Problems were treated for their present local salience and how they were presently affecting the clients. In the other approach, present problem events were treated as the Result of past childhood traumas. Present events are symptoms whereas past events are underlying causes. There also seems to be some marked differences in terms of clients’ beginning semiotic repertoires – and this occurs as early as session two. W, for instance, demonstrates an ability to use abstraction when formulating problem events. She is able to nominalize events and causes, and, she is even able to

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 Chapter 9

use causal semantics to describe other situations. Consider again the last four lines of Ex. (9:4): 966 W: my dad just told him last year 967 that was one of the reasons they divorced was 968 that they see I I actually triggered them 969 (in those things)

Here, W re-uses the term trigger to realize a different causal event; namely, to account for why her parents divorced (i.e., I actually triggered them). This demonstrates that W is able to use resources of causality introduced by C to construe other events in her life. This is just the tip of the iceberg as far as comparisons go. Much more work needs to be done in counselling semogenesis to get a clearer picture of the range of genres that counsellors’ make use of and how these genres enable different kinds of client ontogenesis. The next and final section explores these future directions for work on counselling semogenesis.

. Concluding remarks – future directions By way of summary, I briefly recapitulate on what has been accomplished so far. I then point to some useful directions that will expand on this work. Counselling semogenesis has been examined for one counsellor and one couple covering six sessions of a narrative counselling interview from its inception to its end. In this way, I was able to map out the logogenetic development of narrative counselling. I found that the narrative counselling interview was realized by two genres: problem construction and problem effacement. These genres were realized by distinct stages that were, in turn, realized by distinct register, discourse semantic and lexicogrammtic patterns. It was also shown that counselling logogenesis provided clients with the materials for ontogenesis. In general terms, clients were socialized into a specific way of using language to talk about constructing and effacing problems. Moreover, in terms of a cultural practice, this counselling process could be seen as late modernist/social constructionist and, more specifically, as a certain realization of a narrative approach to counselling. Certainly, no claims can be made concerning the typicality of these identified genres for the counselling process; that is, counselling could conceivably unfold in different ways and the alternative counselling approach analyzed in Section 9.3 provided evidence for this. Nonetheless, similarities were rec-

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Phylogenesis and concluding remarks

ognized. A problem was identified using the same language resources and causality was introduced as a subsequent step to problem identification. One future direction in counselling semogenesis research must examine the semogenesis – logogenesis, ontogenesis and phylogenesis – of different approaches. The more research done on different approaches, the more insight we will gain on the range of genres (and stages) used to realize the counselling process. In addition, an understanding of the range of genres used will enable more comparisons on how the logogenetic process can influence client ontogenesis. And finally, examining different counselling approaches will help provide a better understanding of how these approaches relate to each other semiotically and phylogenetically. It might then be possible to see where counselling as a cultural practice is heading. A better understanding of the range of genres used to realize counselling will also help us understand how the cultural practice of counselling relates to other cultural practices. As I have previously argued, the narrative counselling interview involves both expository and story genres. Knowing how different cultural practices relate could facilitate the degree and speed in which they are learned. If, for example, some of the genres used in counselling are nearidentical to pedagogical or scientific genres, and clients have access to these semiotic repertoires, counsellors might then be better able to mobilize clients’ resources to facilitate ontogenesis. In making these suggestions, I am not claiming that knowledge of counselling genres will enable counsellors to know where the session is heading or to foresee solutions to clients’ problems, all this independent of the clients’ input. For social constructionist counsellors, these suggestions would not be acceptable. I am suggesting, however, that counsellors could be aware that by being in certain genres, they are skewing the probabilities of certain outcomes. Reformulating events as abstract things enables these ‘things’ to construe agency; and, seeing the problem as an Agent will implicate alternate behaviours to rid the problem of its agency. Similarly, reformulating events as Results enables past events – perhaps those occurring in childhood – to be realized as the Agents of those Results. So, counsellors do influence the counselling process, even if, as some constructionists would have it, they adopt a not-knowing approach and treat the client as the expert. Even these so-called non-interventionist approaches will influence the unfolding of the counselling process, its logogenesis. In these cases, also, it is of utmost importance to examine what effects these non-interventionist approaches have on client ontogenesis. I think that it is only with this understanding that counsellors can know to what degree client formulations should be reformulated.



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As a final point, I address some important dimensions of the counselling process that were not taken into consideration in this study. These are the relationship between clients and counsellor and the relationship between clients. A ‘good’ relationship between clients and counsellor will, no doubt, affect what goes on in counselling. Recent work on the therapeutic alliance (Horvath & Greenberg 1994) have demonstrated the effect of this variable on therapy outcomes. This kind of work can also be tackled from a semiotic perspectives. For instance, the analysis could also focus on what kinds of client-counsellor interactions realize positive or negative alliance and how does this affect the way in which genres and stages are realized? The second issue, couples’ relationships are also important. Brief examination of one couple in their first session who were teetering between divorce mediation and ‘counselling to save the marriage’ did not even enter into the problem identification stage. Instead, the interactions mainly consisted of disagreements between clients and clients’ purpose for seeking counselling. To sum up, there are many dimensions to consider when examining ‘change’ and the counselling process. My focus has been on semogenesis. Change, accordingly, was examined from a semiotic perspective. Though mainly based in semiotics and functional linguistics, the importance of the results of this study are not restricted to those domains. A semiotic analysis of the counselling process can provide insights to counsellors or researchers of counselling. Semiotics, in the way that it is portrayed here, has relevance for those taking a functional view of the counselling process; and what this study has attempted to do is take a significant step in describing the various systemic-functional dimensions of counselling.

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Notes

Chapter 1 . Data collection was made possible from a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada Research Grant awarded to Adam Horvath. I thank Adam Horvath for allowing me to use the audio-taped counselling sessions.

Chapter 3 . In order to avoid confusion between technical and non-technical uses of terms, references to systems such as mood are in smallcaps. . Except for Wh/Subject interrogatives, which are ordered Wh/Subject ^ Finite.

Chapter 5 . See also Halliday and Matthiessen (1999) who propose four sub-types of mental Processes: Perceptive, Cognitive, Desiderative and Emotive.

Chapter 6 . I am not proposing a difference between ‘counselling’ and ‘psychotherapy’. Both terms may be used as a superordinate category for a range of different approaches such as cognitive-behavioural, experiential, narrative, etc. . Although the counsellor did use mental and verbal clauses to reformulate, these reformulations were not used to identify problems in the problem construction genre.

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References

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JB[v.20020404] Prn:17/06/2004; 8:55

F: DAP11IND.tex / p.1 (51-138)

Index

A ability 253–256 accountability 24–25, 35 activity type 36, 95–96 adjacency pair 32–35, 74–75, 111, 170–171 agency 118–123, 212–225, 245–262, 282–283, 298–302, 314–315, 322, 327–330 Anderson, H. and Goolishian, H. 133, 310, 312 appraisal 75–76, 185–194, 241–245, 252–261, 279–281 B Bakhtin, M. 138, 171 Bateson, G. 134, 312 Bernstein, B. 114, 270, 303–305, 316–318 Bruner, J. 97, 272 Buttny, R. 8, 135, 310 C category bound activity (CBA) 41–42, 79 causality 17–18, 51, 164–166, 212–225, 245–262, 282–283, 298–302, 315–316, 327–330 Chapman, M. 2 Christie, F. 112–114, 124, 303 classification 316–317 Cloud, D. 319 code 304–305, 321 elaborated 304–305 restricted 304–305

cohesion 43, 72–81 conditional relevance 32–34, 94, 95 conjunction 14, 69, 71, 76–78, 82–83, 136, 168–169, 175, 192, 316 context 26–27, 28–30, 36–40, 47 of culture 49, 95–103 of situation 49, 87–94 sequential 27, 31 social 47–48, 49–52, 86–103 counselling 308–321 constructivist 1, 311 family systems 312 modernist 310–311, 315–321 postmodernist 311–313, 315–321 process research 1, 10, 133, 311 social constructionist 1, 133, 311–313, 315–321 solution-oriented 312 Cushman, P. 309, 318 D Davidse, K. 163, 164, 212 documentary method of interpretation 28–30, 47, 88, 103 E ergative 164, 212–215, 302 evaluation 37, 75, 95, 100–103, 108, 238–240, 300–302 exchange 56, 58–59, 74–75, 104, 110–112, 124–125, 170 expert 90, 124–129, 171, 202, 221, 232, 245, 310, 315, 316–317 externalizing 130–131, 181, 194, 206, 233, 270–272, 294, 298, 305, 313–314

JB[v.20020404] Prn:17/06/2004; 8:55

F: DAP11IND.tex / p.2 (138-206)

 Index

extreme case formulation (ECF) 185–194, 197–199, 228, 279–281, 291

and Atkinson, J. 31 heteroglossia 61, 138, 202

F field 82, 87–89, 90, 97, 98–99, 124–128, 130, 177, 181, 270 Firth, J. R. 50 framing 317

I ideation 56, 63–70, 79 identification 80–81, 206–212 Iedema, R., Feez, S. and White, P. 186, 253 indexicality 22, 26–27, 28, 44–46, 96 instantiation 53–54, 93–94, 104, 129, 321 intention 192, 218, 235, 252, 260–261, 262, 265 intersubjectivity 25, 34–35, 74, 75, 81 interview 114–124, 321 narrative counselling 116–120, 124, 130, 181 narrative-style 114–115

G Gale, J. 10 Garfinkel, H. 21–30, 47, 92, 101, 226 and Sacks, H. 40 genre 8, 15–18, 87, 95–103, 106–112 activity-focussed 98, 102 entity-focussed 98, 102 expository 97–103, 107, 117, 177, 331 narrative 97–103, 108, 114–115, 116–124, 130–131, 156, 179, 234–235, 238–240, 245, 300–302, 310–311, 313 recount 100–101, 117, 118, 119, 120, 123, 187–194, 273–279, 288, 295, 305 service encounter 109, 110–111 story 100–102, 115 Gregory, M. 94, 112 H Halliday, M. A. K. 1, 2, 9, 12, 49–70, 82, 86–88, 92–93, 108–109, 129–130, 136–140, 144, 147, 151, 153, 158, 164, 167, 169–170, 182, 186, 213, 216, 219, 250, 252–253, 305, 307, 321 and Martin, J. R. 170, 177 and Matthiessen, M. 6, 86, 130, 149, 307 and Hasan, R. 51, 73 Hasan, R. 50, 90, 109, 110, 111 Heritage, J. 22, 24, 27, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 37

J Jordens, C. and Little, M. 114–115 L Labov, W. 95, 108 Labov, W. and Waletzky, J. 100, 300–301, 313 Levinson, S. 26, 36–37, 44, 75, 96 logico-semantic 68–70, 77, 113, 114, 118–119, 123, 136, 137, 234, 278, 284 M Malinowski, B. 49–50, 55 mapping out 17 the influence of persons 130–131, 233, 298, 303 the influence of problems 130–131, 181, 212, 225, 284, 288, 313–314 Martin, J. R. 8, 13, 14, 48, 52, 56, 62, 64–66, 70, 73–80, 81, 87–93, 95–103, 107–112, 113, 128, 138, 146, 157, 166–167, 186, 241, 305–306 mastery of natural language 40, 45 McLeod, J. 308–313

JB[v.20020404] Prn:17/06/2004; 8:55

F: DAP11IND.tex / p.3 (206-260)

Index 

membership categorization device (MCD) 41–42, 79 metafunction 55–72, 88–94 experiential 63–68, 79, 136ff. interpersonal 58–62, 74–76 logical 68–70, 76–78 textual 70–72, 80–81 modality 60–62 ability 253–256 inclination 260–261 usuality 185–194, 256–259, 279–281 mode 83, 87–90, 91–92, 95, 97–98, 102–103, 128, 170 monoglossia 138 mood 27, 45, 54–55, 57, 59–60, 83–85, 145, 202, 210–211, 252

N narrative therapy 18, 117, 130–131, 138, 181, 193–194, 212, 226, 233, 298, 313–314, 319–320 negative identity conclusions 131, 154, 193 negotiation 60, 74–76, 171, 205 nominal group 55, 59, 66, 82–84, 147, 154, 157, 161, 169–170, 172–177, 201–212, 223–225, 292 head 172–176 postmodifier 176–177 nominalization 82–86, 123, 150, 159, 165, 168–170, 172–177, 182–184, 195, 196, 197–212, 216, 223, 236, 247–249, 322, 329 normality 186, 193, 198, 253, 256–259

P Painter, C. 57, 58, 270 Parsons, T. 22, 24 Participant 12–15, 63, 66–67, 80, 83–85, 98, 102, 128, 136, 138–139, 148, 151, 154, 156, 160, 162, 164, 169, 172–175, 198, 206,

208–209, 212, 222–224, 272, 277, 279, 282, 287, 292, 294, 315 agent 164–165, 212–225, 245–262, 282–283, 298–302, 322, 327–330 commander 294–298, 302 sayer 66, 137–144, 219, 284, 286, 292, 294, 298 token-value 66, 84, 157–160, 168–169, 177, 198–202, 221, 227, 235, 271, 289–290, 292, 327 pedagogic discourse 114, 124–129, 235, 270, 272, 303, 316 pedagogy 316–318 invisible 317–318 visible 317–318 phase 94, 112 Pomerantz, A. 185 potential (meaning) 6, 50, 52, 54, 82, 93–94, 129–130, 262, 270, 281, 305, 307–308, 321 domain 93–94 potentiality 252–256, 257, 259, 261, 294 Poynton, C. 89–90 procedural consequentiality 39, 72 Process 12–15, 57, 63–66, 82–85, 136, 172–176, 203, 224, 273 behavioural 64–65, 147–151, 196–197, 277 causative 164–165, 180, 213–216, 246–251, 253, 315, 327 existential 64–65, 162–164 material 64–65, 151–153, 277, 302 mental 64–65, 70, 144–147, 204, 209, 218–219, 252, 284 saying 64–65, 70, 123, 138–143, 216–218, 236–240, 261, 277, 278, 295 relational 64–65, 153–162, 168, 197–202, 219–223 projection 66, 70, 114, 137–147, 150, 159, 160, 176, 204, 208–211, 236–240, 278, 284, 292

JB[v.20020404] Prn:17/06/2004; 8:55

F: DAP11IND.tex / p.4 (260-334)

 Index

Q question 27–28, 31, 32, 36–38, 44–45, 51, 58–60, 74, 125, 221, 223, 225, 281–283, 303 circular 312 relative influencing 130 R realization 50–51, 73, 86, 93, 104 recipient design 185 reciprocity of perspectives 24, 25, 34, 47, 103 reflexivity 27–28, 31, 33 reframe 11–12, 134 register 86–94, 124, 129–130, 177, 304–305 instructional 114, 126, 270, 303 regulative 114, 126, 270, 303 relevance 39, 72 Rice, L. and Greenberg, L. 1, 10, 133, 311 S Sacks, H. 30–31, 32, 41, 43–44, 47, 73, 135, 185, 302 Schegloff, E. 27, 30, 32, 39, 44–45, 47, 72–74, 104 and Sacks, H. 32 Schutz, A. 23–25, 34, 40, 101 sequence 30, 36–38, 44, 51, 74, 108–111, 119, 135 action 32–34 activity 88–89, 98, 101, 102, 187, 190 story preface 302 sequential implicativeness 32, 87, 95 Sluzki, C. 316

social esteem 76, 241, 252–261 stock of knowledge 23, 24, 40, 103 system 1, 50–51, 52–54, 93 T taxis 68–70, 113 taxonomic relationship 79, 89, 90–91, 128 technicality 128, 177–178, 195 tenacity 253, 260–261, 294 tenor 87–92, 97, 103, 124–126, 129, 270 text 2–3, 5, 6, 51, 53, 73, 93–94 thematic equative 158–160, 162, 171 theme 70–72, 84, 91, 108, 128, 159, 196 therapeutic alliance 311, 332 time-phase 246, 252–253, 256–261, 265 topology 66, 102, 147, 252 transitivity 12–14, 63ff. trust 25–26 typology 65, 97 V Ventola, E. 110–111 Vygotsky, L. 272, 303 W Watzlawick, P., Weakland, J. and Fisch, R. 1, 12, 134 White, M. 131, 193–194, 270–271, 280 White, M. and Epston, D. 4, 18, 117, 130–131, 181, 212, 233, 313–316 White, P. 61, 138, 171 Z zone of proximal development (ZPD) 272, 281, 303

In the series Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture the following titles have been published thus far or are scheduled for publication: 1 2

GELBER, Katharine: Speaking Back. The free speech versus hate speech debate. 2002. xiv, 177 pp. LITOSSELITI, Lia and Jane SUNDERLAND (eds.): Gender Identity and Discourse Analysis. 2002. viii, 336 pp. 3 CHNG, Huang Hoon: Separate and Unequal. Judicial rhetoric and women's rights. 2002. viii, 157 pp. 4 CHILTON, Paul and Christina SCHÄFFNER (eds.): Politics as Text and Talk. Analytic approaches to political discourse. 2002. x, 246 pp. 5 THIESMEYER, Lynn (ed.): Discourse and Silencing. Representation and the language of displacement. 2003. x, 316 pp. 6 DUNNE, Michele Durocher: Democracy in Contemporary Egyptian Political Discourse. 2003. xii, 179 pp. 7 ENSINK, Titus and Christoph SAUER (eds.): The Art of Commemoration. Fifty years after the Warsaw Uprising. 2003. xii, 246 pp. 8 MARTIN, J.R. and Ruth WODAK (eds.): Re/reading the past. Critical and functional perspectives on time and value. 2003. vi, 277 pp. 9 RICHARDSON, John E.: (Mis)Representing Islam. The racism and rhetoric of British broadsheet newspapers. 2004. vi, 277 pp. 10 BAYLEY, Paul (ed.): Cross-Cultural Perspectives on Parliamentary Discourse. 2004. vi, 385 pp. 11 MUNTIGL, Peter: Narrative Counselling. Social and Linguistic Processes of Change. 2004. vii, 344 pp. + index.

Narrative Counselling: Social And Linguistic Processes Of Change (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Perspectives in Politics and Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Racism And Discourse in Spain And Latin America (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society, and Culture)

Discourse and social change

Gender Identity and Discourse Analysis - Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture 2

Discourse And Power in a Multilingual World (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Arab News and Conflict: A multidisciplinary discourse study (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Discourse, War and Terrorism (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Politics as Talk and Text: Analytic Approaches to Political Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society & Culture)

Democracy in Contemporary Egyptian Political Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, 6)

Analysing Identities in Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, Volume 28)

Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Discourse and Silencing: Representation and the Language of Displacement (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, 5)

Language, Communication And the Economy (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Mediating Ideology in Text And Image: Ten Critical Studies (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Metonymy in Language and Thought (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Reconciliation Discourse: The case of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

The Social Construction of SARS: Studies of a health communication crisis (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Women and Social Work: Narrative Approaches

Race, Politics and Social Change

Manipulation And Ideologies in the Twentieth Century: Discourse, Language, Mind (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

A New Agenda in (Critical) Discourse Analysis: Theory, Methodology and Interdisciplinarity (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Shaping Minds: A Discourse Analysis of Chinese-language Community Mental Health Literature (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Four Approaches to Counselling and Psychotherapy

Race, Culture and Counselling

Pedagogy and the Shaping of Consciousness: Linguistic and Social Processes

Concepts of Culture: Art, Politics, And Society

The Post-Communist Condition: Public and private discourses of transformation (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Power Without Domination: Dialogism And The Empowering Property Of Communication (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Re Reading the Past: Critical and Functional Perspectives on Time and Value (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, 8)

Narrative Counselling: Social And Linguistic Processes Of Change (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Perspectives in Politics and Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Racism And Discourse in Spain And Latin America (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society, and Culture)

Discourse and social change

Gender Identity and Discourse Analysis - Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture 2

Discourse And Power in a Multilingual World (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Arab News and Conflict: A multidisciplinary discourse study (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Discourse, War and Terrorism (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Politics as Talk and Text: Analytic Approaches to Political Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society & Culture)

Democracy in Contemporary Egyptian Political Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, 6)

Analysing Identities in Discourse (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, Volume 28)

Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Discourse and Silencing: Representation and the Language of Displacement (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, 5)

Language, Communication And the Economy (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Mediating Ideology in Text And Image: Ten Critical Studies (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Metonymy in Language and Thought (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Reconciliation Discourse: The case of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

The Social Construction of SARS: Studies of a health communication crisis (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Women and Social Work: Narrative Approaches

Race, Politics and Social Change

Manipulation And Ideologies in the Twentieth Century: Discourse, Language, Mind (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

A New Agenda in (Critical) Discourse Analysis: Theory, Methodology and Interdisciplinarity (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Shaping Minds: A Discourse Analysis of Chinese-language Community Mental Health Literature (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Four Approaches to Counselling and Psychotherapy

Race, Culture and Counselling

Pedagogy and the Shaping of Consciousness: Linguistic and Social Processes

Concepts of Culture: Art, Politics, And Society

The Post-Communist Condition: Public and private discourses of transformation (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Power Without Domination: Dialogism And The Empowering Property Of Communication (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture)

Re Reading the Past: Critical and Functional Perspectives on Time and Value (Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture, 8)

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