Tag Archives: language

Old Words May Help Us Understand a Minnesota Bridge

D’you mind if I share some things I read in the S pages of a massive Webster’s Second International? Thanks. You’re a peach.

Obsolete meanings of common words

Sorry is used as a noun in Scottish and some English dialects to mean “sorrow.” It was also once used as “to grieve.” And sorry grace was once a phrase meaning “bad luck” or “ill fortune.”

Sorrow once had a subtle use of causing actual damage, not just emotional stress.

Sore as an adjective once had a sense of criminal or wrong. As a noun, it once was used to mean disease, affliction, pain, or grief. As a verb, it used to mean “to wound.”

Sound was once used in the sense of understanding or relevance, as in, the speech had no sound for me.

Word combos

Also, on these pages are lists of combinations, like these archaic ones for sore: sore-beset, sore-dreaded, sore-taxed, sore-vexed, and sore-won.

These for sorrow are not marked archaic but have an unfamiliar sound to me: sorrow-blinded, sorrow-bound, sorrow-closed, sorrow-seasoned, sorrow-shot, and sorrow-streaming.

For soul, there’s a long list, including soul-benumbed, soul-blind, soul-boiling, soul-cloying, soul-fatting, soul-gnawing, and soul-thralling.

The Internet doesn’t have natural discoverability like this old dictionary. We could lose a lot of knowledge by limiting our systems to giving us only the answers to the questions we’ve asked, because if we ask what else we might want to know, the Internet just asks us what else we want to know.

Now that I’ve played the philologist for a minute, what else do we have?

More Words: Here are a couple videos on old words that should be brought back.

Journalism: There’s a pedestrian bridge crossing I-494 just west of the Minneapolis Airport that connects Bloomington to Richfield. Tyler Vigen wanted to know why it was built. Some of the readers of this very blog may be asking the same question, so Vigen did the research and has given us a full report (with excessive in-text notes).

Authors: C.S. Lewis versus T.S. Eliot with sharpened opinions

Naturalism: Does unnatural behavior exist? Is it true that “whatever is possible is by definition also natural”?

Photo: The sign on the old hotel by the tracks, Gulpwater, Wyoming. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

A Ruined City in Old England and Some Language

Lars has been talking about poetry this week, which provoked me to consider it for the Saturday post.

A 700 A.D. Anglo-Saxon poem called “The Ruin” speaks of a city that was gorgeous even when destroyed.

Well-wrought this wall-stone which fate has broken
The city bursts, the work of giants crumbles.

In this translation by Michael O’Brien, you can see what is and what once was: frost on the stones, brightly color scraps of wood, bath-houses, and attractive homes. It had been a welcoming, beautiful home–a “haven.” Skilled soldiers lived here “proud and wine-flushed.” The baths were obviously luxurious. Only one wall remained standing.

Many men fell in the days of wrath;
Death took all the valor of earth.

Did invaders sack this city? No, it was the curse on all creation that eventually wore it down. One way or another, we all see the day of wrath. How do we live today in the light of what’s to come?

What else can we get into today?

Poetry: David Oates has a few verses on “farthing” and going too far.

Language: “We are lucky that English is our language because it’s better than, say, French for poetry. All those millions of words and all those different ways of saying the same, or similar, things. And new words all the time.” 

Parting Quotes: Here are a couple of statements pulled from Joseph Addison’s 1716 play The Drummer.

“That is well said, John, an honest man, that is not quite sober, has nothing to fear.”

“I should think myself a very bad woman if I had done what I do for a farthing less.”

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

The Sound of Words Change, Reading Courage, and Jargon Demo

It doesn’t take much to raise questions about the English language that the casual user can’t answer. Why do we pronounce bury and berry the same way? Fury and jury look like the way they sound, but not bury.

In Old English, the word for bury was byrgan, and that “y” was pronounced like a short “oo” or “ew” as in took and few. Many other words used “y” and were converted to an “i” spelling. Bridge and kiss are two examples, but bury didn’t follow the normal route and retains, I gather, something of its historic sound. I suppose berry from Old English berie always sounded like we pronounce it today with bright and shallow 21st century American accents.

I learned another thing while looking this up. No, two things. First, the Internet isn’t great at teaching you how to pronounce certain types of words. Ask it how you pronounce the Old English gecyþnisse, and you’ll get this link, which is good. Ask it how to pronounce dryhten. Oh, it’s “driç.ten.” But I want to hear it, not read another spelling of it. And what about the “oo” sound for y’s?

Second, the words apple and berry are the original words for fruit. If the fruit in your hand isn’t a berry, it’s an apple, even as late as Middle English. Bananas in Middle English were “apples of paradise.” Dates to “finger-apples.” Cucumbers were “earth-apples,” and, yes, cucumbers are fruit. Melon developed in Greek from a word meaning “goard-apple” and was used generally for fruit.

Anyway, what else we got?

Crime Novel: A new comedic crime novel is “morbidly funny” and “lighthearted literary entertainment at its best.” City of Angles is playwright Johnathan Leaf’s first novel. You’ll be reading more about it in days to come.

Downgrading Education: What worries today’s administrators about [great books] is not their purported irrelevance, nor the allegedly harmful language or controversial arguments they contain. It is rather the example they provide of characters like Huck Finn, who preferred eternal damnation to snitching on his friend Jim.”

Favorite Novel: “Simply put, Tristram Shandy is a novel I love, one I’ve reread more often than almost any other. It never wears out . . .” I remember one of my English professors loving it too.

And finally, a brief presentation of Rockwell Automation’s retro encabulator in easy to understand, common sense jargon.

Breaking News: A sequel demo was released last year, “living proof that leveraging existing assets is not plagiarism.”

Photo: John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

Life’s Just a Bowl of Beer-soaked Skittle Cherries

Here’s a bit of English idiom trivia I came across recently. The phrase “life’s just a bowl of cherries” is the title of a 1931 Broadway number. “Life is just a bowl of cherries. It’s not serious. It’s too mysterious.” I link to an Ethel Merman recording here because she’s the one who inflicted this song on the inmates of New York’s theater trade.

This phrase clashes a bit with the British saying, “life’s not all beer and skittles.” Some readers among us may assume that’s a reference to candy, and I would like to know how many people, if any ever, would drink beer while eating Skittles. (Wait. Since I hamstring myself through perpetual research while blogging on trivia, I found a 2020 report of a beer brewed with Trix and Skittles, which goes to show, children, that if you believe in something hard enough, even a very bad idea can become a real boy.)

But life, as they say, is not all beer and skittles, meaning it’s not the intoxicating wonderland of your local pub wherein you can procure a brewed beverage and play a game of nine-pins–the ancient and venerable game called skittles!

The Gardens Trust did some research and writes, “Amongst the earliest references I could find are a couple of 14thc manuscripts which show a skittles game in which one skittle is bigger, differently shaped, and in most cases positioned so as to be the most difficult to knock over.  According to a specialist website . . . the throwers in the pictures are about to throw a long club-like object at the skittles underarm.”

Life, having been around for as long as it has, gets credit for a lot of things. Oliver Wendell Holmes gave us these two:

Samuel Johnson tells us, “Life’s a short summer,” and you can imagine where the killjoy goes with that idea.

Let’s bring it back around with this suggestion from Joseph Addison. “I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs.”

Life is much sweeter with birdsong. I’ve offered my neighborhood aviators club blackberries, and I’ve seen a few takers this summer. Maybe they prefer cherries.

Photo by Engin Akyurt/Pexels

Deep Words, Cultural Bubbles, and Reading

D’you mind if I jabber about words a bit? No? Thanks.

Are gulch and gully related? A gulch is a “deep ravine,” derived from Middle English gulchen “to gush forth; to drink greedily.” A gully is “channel in earth made by running water,” possibly a variant of Middle English golet “water channel.”

Douglas Harper of the Online Eytmological Dictionary notes there is no relational root between these words, except for the sound. We seem to associate gul with the rush of liquid or swallowing, such as gullet.

Is there any difference in the meaning of these words? If someone described a large ditch beside a country road as a gully, would there ever be a reason to say, “That’s more of a gulch”? Webster’s defines ravine as “a small narrow steep-sided valley that is larger than a gully and smaller than a canyon and that is usually worn by running water.” A gulch is a “deep cleft,” often with water or notable for being dry.

So, uh, yeah. You firing up the grill this weekend?

2021 e-reader roundup: Kobo Sage, Kobo Libra 2, Kindle Paperwhite reviews – Six Colors

Revisionism: China is preparing to teach their Middle Schoolers that Hong Kong was never a British Colony. “Hong Kong has been Chinese territory since ancient times,” says one new textbook seen by the AP. “While Hong Kong was occupied by the British following the Opium War, it remained Chinese territory.”

Culture: Your local niche is not the whole culture, Yair Rosenberg wrote earlier this year. Most people “just consume culture that they like and go on with their day. If someone can’t appreciate popular culture in this way, they will have trouble understanding why most of it is popular with its audience. This doesn’t mean we cannot or should not consider other issues—like the politics of certain creators or creative choices—when evaluating art. We should! But if a critic allows those to dominate and color every piece of commentary they write, they will gradually become alienated from the very culture they’re attempting to cover.”

Watergate at 50: “Chuck Colson certainly earned his early reputation as Nixon’s ‘hatchet man,’ a tough, ruthless, and loyal operative. . . . Everything, however—and I mean everything—changed in the wake of Watergate. “

Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash

Ukrainians Increasingly Reject Russian Language

Not that long ago, Ukrainians spoke and read mostly in the Russian language, even if they knew Ukrainian.

In the 60s, novelist Andrey Kurkov writes, “If someone on the street spoke Ukrainian, people thought they were from the village, or some strange intellectual, or maybe even a Ukrainian nationalist. . . . [H]aving Ukrainian as your first language was considered by many as a handicap.”

Today, after 100 days of war, “[o]nline and in casual conversations Ukrainian patriots increasingly refer to Russian as the ‘language of the enemy.’ Those who endorse this rhetoric would prefer to ignore the fact that up to 40 percent of Ukrainians speak Russian as their mother tongue. However, if some of them no longer want to speak Russian, many more no longer want to talk about it.”

New Words, Smiles, Blogroll, and Our Man in Havana

Merriam-Webster added 455 words to their dictionary last month, both new terms and new definitions. Because gets a new meaning as a preposition, “often used in a humorous way to convey vagueness about the exact reasons for something,” as in, “She drove all night because Daryl.” A new word is copypasta, something that has been spread around online.

Also new are deplatform, digital nomad, Oobleck, zero day, fluffernutter, and ghost kitchen. 

Michael De Sapio describes the moral imagination of Graham Greene’s Our Man in Havana, a spy comedy. “Dana Gioia writes that Catholic fiction, contrary to what a secular reader might expect, ‘tends to be comic, rowdy, rude, and even violent.’ This is true of Our Man in Havana, which jostles us through brothels and nightclubs and striptease houses, conveying the dinginess of a decaying city side-by-side with the sanctity of the Church. The comic juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane points up the duality of human nature in the most visceral way possible.”

Speaking of Cuba, playwright Garcia Aguilera, who has been promoted by the government in the past, is now calling for political reform and peaceful protest. He has become what Cuban officials call a “counterrevolutionary.”

“In his Dictionary, Dr. Johnson defines smile as ‘a slight contraction of the face.'” Yeah, but there’s more to it than that.

Allergies of the Gondolier, as told by Damian Balassone
“From the monstrous canals of his nose
a tsunami of mucus arose.”

Marvin Olasky summarizes John Frame’s A History of Western Philosophy and Theology. “In discussing early Christian philosophers, Frame criticizes those who have an insufficient sense of antithesis between Christian and Greek philosophy. Frame states that ‘the attempt to make Christianity intellectually respectable, and therefore easy to believe, is one of the most common and deadly mistakes of Christian apologists and philosophers throughout history.'”

Photo: Texaco gas pumps, Milford, Illinois, 1977. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress.

Egregious Examples of Less than Excellent Exercises

If you come across the word egregious this week, it is likely in a story about the New York governor’s exemplary leadership during the pandemic in which he scuttled seniors by sending the coronavirus into their nursing homes while reportedly making the medical officials in charge of them immune to liability charges. He has reportedly threatened state congressmen of his own party in order to silence their calls for accountability. By all accounts, this is excellent gubernatorial work.

But you see the irony I’m using here. I’ve said egregious as if it means excellent, because that’s exactly the usage the word once had. Egregious comes from Latin, originally meaning “distinguished or extraordinary.” The Online Etymology Dictionary says it came into English in the 1530s.

An old educational journal gives some examples of its use in this meaning. From Samuel Johnson’s The Life of Pope: “This Essay affords an egregious instance of the predominance of genius, the dazzling splendour of imagery, and the seductive powers of eloquence.” Here Johnson is saying Pope has outdone himself in this essay on man. “The reader feels his mind full, though he learns nothing; and when he meets it in its new array no longer knows the talk of his mother and his nurse.”

In a poem for a newborn prince in 1705:

One, to Empire Born,
Egregious Prince, whose Manly Childhood shew’d
His mingled Parents, and portended Joy
Unspeakable;

Johnson’s use leans into the extraordinary side of the original meaning of egregious, not so much the excellent side. Perhaps it shows the path for the change of meaning, which the dictionary has occurring in the late 16th century.

First, we used it ironically: Should’ve seen the street preacher I just passed, an egregious communicator that, preaching the gospel of sausages in buns.

Then, we pushed the meaning into outrageous or extremely bad, like only a governor can do.

Isn’t it interesting that words can flip meaning like this?

The Chinese Word for Crisis

From our You Have Heard It Said But I Tell You desk, the Chinese word for crisis, wēijī 危机, is not a pictogram of danger plus opportunity. You can see this definition in action in this 2009 book, Crossing the Soul’s River, in which the author says he was given this explanation first-hand.

In fact, very few Chinese letters represent little pictures of their ideas. More importantly, jī alone is not opportunity; it’s only part of several words.

A whole industry of pundits and therapists has grown up around this one grossly inaccurate statement. A casual search of the Web turns up more than a million references to this spurious proverb. It appears, often complete with Chinese characters, on the covers of books, on advertisements for seminars, on expensive courses for “thinking outside of the box,” and practically everywhere one turns in the world of quick-buck business, pop psychology, and orientalist hocus-pocus. This catchy expression (Crisis = Danger + Opportunity) has rapidly become nearly as ubiquitous as The Tao of Pooh and Sun Zi’s Art of War for the Board / Bed / Bath / Whichever Room.

Perhaps it would be worthwhile to offer another example from English that is closer to our Chinese word wēijī (“crisis”). Let’s take the –ity component of “opportunity,” “calamity” (“calamity” has a complicated etymology; see the Oxford English Dictionary, Barnhart, etc.), “felicity,” “cordiality,” “hostility,” and so forth. This –ity is a suffix that is used to form abstract nouns expressing state, quality, or condition. The words that it helps to form have a vast range of meanings, some of which are completely contradictory. Similarly the –jī of wēijī by itself does not mean the same thing as wēijī (“crisis”), jīhuì (“opportunity”), and so forth. The signification of jī changes according to the environment in which it occurs.

Danger + Opportunity ≠ Crisis“, Victor H. Mair, Professor of Chinese Language and Literature, University of Pennsylvania

Onomatopoeia Are Like Sensual Puns

I just learned Onomatopoeia is the name of a villain in Green Arrow and Batman comics.  Hmpf.

Putting that aside, an onomatopoeia is a word formed from an imitation of related sounds, such as splash, thump, or blink. Wait, blinking doesn’t make any sound, but perhaps it is an onomatopoeia by another name. I don’t know Latin enough to suggest an alternative word.

This writer on Japanese language and culture applies the term to many interesting Japanese words. “A well-cleaned floor shines pika pika, while a light, fluffy futon is fuwa fuwa.” The word for “thorn” is ira and for “annoyed” is ira ira.