From Urbane to Bon Vivant

I started to share words from a biography of Aaron Burr last week, but my research diverted me from the list by interesting etymology. So, let’s get back to the list.

Aaron was described in the book as being both a bon vivant and having great equanimity. And while Burr characterized President Monroe as being pusillanimous, others used the word to describe Burr.

What is equanimity? It is mental or emotional stability or composure, especially under tension or string. As Burr is described in the book, equanimity was his strongest trait. The word equanimity came to English about 1600, from the French word équanimité, which the French got from the Latin word aequanimitatem. The word, which means calmness, was formed from combining aequus, from which we get equal, with animus, which means mind or spirit and from which we directly take our word animus. Equanimity is a good word for a good trait.

Animus, on the other hand, is a good word for a bad trait. It is a strong dislike or a hostile attitude. (Except in Jungian psychology, where it refers to the presence of the masculine principle in women.) But the noun animus did not come to English until 1820.

Animus may seem like it would be related to animal as in “animalistic behavior”, but it’s not german, it’s more distantly related. Animal, which came to English in the early 1300s, came from a different Latin word: animale. Animale refers to any being which breathes, and came from the Latin word anima, which is related to animus, but not the root. Animus is more closely related to the word pusillanimous.

Pusillanimous comes from the Late Latin word pusillanimis. Pusillanimis was formed by combining animus and pusillus, which means very weak or little. So our word, which means lacking courage or cowardly, is pretty close to its Latin progenitor. It came to English in the late 1300s. It’s also a good word for a bad trait. 

Both animal and pusillanimous have interesting Christian church connections. The word animal, while used in the 1300s, was not commonly used until the 1600s, and consequently wasn’t used in the King James Version of the Bible. And when the translators of Greek biblical texts into Church Latin looked for a Latin word for the Greek oligopsychos, which means small-souled, they used pusillanimis.

Bon vivant are two good words for a trait that some consider good and some bad. It refers to a person who lives luxuriously and enjoys good food and drink. The literal translation of the French words is bon - good, vivant - living. It generally has a positive connotation, while voluptuarian has the negative connotation for the same characteristics, but is increasingly scurrilous in its usage (blame it on class warfare). It comes directly from the French, and came to English in the 1690s. Almost exclusively used of men, its female counterpart is bonne vivante. Bon-vivant can also be hyphenated.

All these are bon mots, as in quel est le bon mot. But bon mot

Urbane and germane comments on humane

I just finished reading a biography of Aaron Burr (Fallen Founder, by Nancy Isenberg, Viking, 2007) that added more than a dozen words to my unused blog words list. I enjoyed reading it, as it gives an alternative perspective on accepted wisdom regarding Burr, Jefferson, and Hamilton. And if you think this election is sinking to new lows, you don’t know your American history. Let’s get to the words, though. This is a blog on words, not books.

The word I encountered in the book was the adjective urbane (used in its noun form – urbanity). It is a good word to describe the person who is suave , elegant, and sophisticated. It came to English in the 1530s from the Middle French word urbain. Urbain came from the Latin urbanus, meaning “belonging to a city” and also had a sense of elegance. Urbane does not have the negative connotation that “citified” has that is in vernacular today (at least in rural areas). Urbane only referred to the city’s qualities, not attending to individuals and their qualities until the 1620s. Now it rarely refers to city qualities and almost exclusively to individuals.

I also find it interesting that urbane came to English 80 years before urban did, though urban is more directly related to its Latin root word meaning. (It still means having to do with city life.) But urban was rarely used until the 1830s by which time urbane was developing its predominant meaning of refined and elegant.

Etymonline.com (the source of most of my etymological information) suggests that in the late 20th century the word urban has taken on a “suggestion of African American.” While the phrase “urban renewal” has been used since 1955 to refer to clearing of slums, I maintain that neither urban renewal nor urban sprawl nor urban legend has much African American connotation. (For my claim to urban legend status, see pudding on the ritz.)

Also interesting (at least to me) is the connection urbane has with humane and germane. Obviously their fairly rare ending (there are only 145 English words ending in –ane) is one commonality, as are their different meanings with the addition of a final e and their sense of belonging to a group. Germane came to English first, in the mid-1300s, then humane a century later.

Germane means closely related, relevant and pertinent. It originally meant having the same parents, until Shakespeare expanded its meaning beyond human parentage in Hamlet (Act V, Scene II). You remember the line (don’t you?) “The phrase would bee more Germaine to the matter: If we would carry Cannon by our sides.” We use germane to refer to closely related ideas rather than objects as Shakespeare did.

The word germane comes from a word I can’t remember encountering: german (small g). German means having the same father and mother or grandfather and grandmother. What a difference an e makes. The word german came from the Old French word germain, and they got germain from the Latin word germanus. The meaning has been consistent though the languages.

We readily see the connection of humane with human, especially in its antonym inhuman, which is almost synonymous with inhumane. Human means having the nature of people, while humane means tender and compassionate toward people and animals. But human and humane were used almost interchangeably until the early 1700s. In fact, the Royal Humane Society was formed in 1774 not to rescue animals, but to rescue drowning humans. It wasn’t for another 100 years that they turned their attention (and the meaning of humane) to rescuing animals.

Both human and humane came to English from the Old French word humain, which the Old French got from the Latin humanus, both of which mean belonging to or of mankind. Humanus also had the meaning we give to humane, so it is no wonder the two words formed.

So, you may be an urban german human, but that doesn’t mean you’re an urbane humane person. If such a statement is even germane.

An Explicit Education

Explicit would seem to be a close cousin to illicit. But it isn’t. While the pornographic meaning of explicit has some illicit meaning, illicit means not legally permitted or authorized. It is synonymous with unlawful. It also means morally or ethically wrong, and is as often used with the second meaning as with the first. It comes from the Old French word illicite, and came to English in the 1300s. The Old French got illicite from the Latin word illicitus, which means unlawful.

A word that is a virtual homophone (I am not homophone phobic) to illicit is elicit. Elicit came to English in the 1640s directly from the Latin word elicitus, which of course is the past participle of elicere. Elicere was formed by adding the prefix ex- (meaning “out”) to licere, which is the form of the word lacere that is used when combining. Lacere means to entice, lure, or deceive, and is related to the word laqueus, which means noose or snare, and from which we get the word lace. So elicitus means to entice or lure out. My dictionary defines elicit as a verb that is used with an object, and it means to bring out or evoke or educe.

Educe? It also means to draw out or bring forth but it came to English earlier, in the 1400s. While it lists elicit as a synonym, it also includes in its primary definition the sense of the object (as with elicit, educe needs an object) being latent or potential – not yet obvious or realized. There is a developmental sense to educe that does not exist in elicit. Educe comes from educere, which has an interesting meaning. Imagine the General at the head of his troops, or the Admiral’s ship at the head of the armada. (We also get the word conduce and the title Duke from this Latin word.) They are “leading out” or “bringing out,” and that is the meaning of educare.

You may have noticed how close the word educare is to educate. Indeed, I did not connect the two until I saw the Latin source word, and if you know the past participle of educare is educatus, you will understand how a few years after educe came into use in English the word educate followed (in the mid-15th century. The words educare and educate both meant to bring up children and to train them. But the meaning of providing schooling didn’t develop until the 1580s.

Before I finish today, I have to say that educe has educed a second meaning: to infer or deduce. To draw a conclusion from data is a relatively recent meaning, and you may remember when it came into use in 1837. I don’t, but I’m a whipper-snapper, a word for another day.

Speaking of words for another day, avid readers of this blog with photographic memories will recall a similar word, evince, which means to show clearly or disprove (or confute, another word for another day). It shares with educe the sense of deduction, but educe has a sense of proving, while evince has a sense of disproving. If you are trying to prove something through deduction, Sherlock, use educe. If you are trying to disprove, use evince. They’re both good words. Now you have been educated, and can elicit illicit scorn with your mastery of these words.

Clear as Mud

I recently ran across the word explication and wondered how it is different from explanation and why. Explanation was in use for over 100 years before the word explication came into English in the 1520s.

Explanation is the act of explaining, and the word came to English before the word explain did; explanation came in the late 1300s, while explain didn’t appear until early the next century. Explain means to make clear or plain, and to render understandable or intelligible. Explanation came from the Latin word expanationem, which is the noun of action developed from the stem word explanare, the word from which we get explain. Explanare means to make level, flatten, or smooth, or to make clear. Ex- means “out” and planus means "flat", the word from which we also get the geometric concept of plane. Explain was originally spelled explane, but with the word plain meaning obvious its spelling changed.

In the 17th century the word explain had a meaning that helps to differentiate it from explicate. It referred to a literal unfolding of things, as in a 1664 quote from John Evelyn’s 1664 book Sylva that talks about trees that “explain into leaves.”

Explication is defined as an explanation or interpretation, a definition which doesn’t help explain the difference. The word came from the same Latin root word, explicare, but from the noun form of action explicationem, the past participle of explicare. And it took a trip through the Middle French, where it got its spelling, before coming to English.

Okay, that doesn’t explain or explicate the difference. Explicate’s definition is to make plain or clear, to explain or interpret, but also means to develop, as a principle or theory. It arrived in English about 10 years after explication. It came from the Latin word explicatus, another past participle of explicare.

So we’re left with the only difference between the two words being that explicate is used when referring to a concept, while explain is used more broadly. But otherwise they’re apparently interchangeable.

What’s interesting is comparing these two words with the word explicit. It has almost as many definitions as the previous four words combined. The first definition is fully and clearly expressed or demonstrated, while the second is clearly developed or formulated. The first meaning is a less intensive meaning than the third, which is definite and unreserved in expression; outspoken.

The word explicit came to English around 1600 from the French word explicite, which the French got from the Latin word explicitus. Explicitus means unobstructed, and is yet another variant past participle of our word of the day explicare.

An interesting use of explicitus was in the phrase explicitus est liber, which was inscribed at the end of books during the middle ages and means "the book is unrolled."

Another interesting an much more recent use is shown in the fifth definition, which refers to having sexual acts or nudity clearly depicted. Explicit wasn’t used as a euphemism for pornographic until 1971.

I hope that clears things up, that I’ve explained everything and that the explication was interesting. I was as explicit as I could be. At least you now know what explicitus est liber means. Clearly.

Comity of Errors

Sometimes I use a word, and know there are similar words and am not sure the difference. Today’s post is about two of those pairs: is it constrain or restrain, comity or amity, and what’s the difference?

The first pair, constrain and restrain, is one about which I have a preconceived notion. Constrain is something you can’t do to yourself; it relies on outside forces working upon you. Restrain is something you can do to yourself or something someone can do to someone else (a broader use). Let’s see if I understand or not.

According to the dictionary (actually, dictionary.com) constrain’s definition is to force, compel, or oblige. All examples given were of outside force compelling the result. Restrain’s definition is to hold back from action, to keep in check or under control, … to limit or hamper the activity, growth or effect of. (The ellipsis indicates it also means to deprive of liberty.) The example given supports my original differentiation. So far so good.

Where did these words come from and how did we end up with two such similar words? Constrain came first, in the early 1300s. It was originally spelled constreyen, because it came from the Old French word constreindre, which came from the Latin word constringere, which means to bind together, tie tightly, fetter, shackle, or chain. It is formed form the prefix com- that means together and the root stringere that means draw tight. (Not surprisingly, we get our word strain from the same root.)

Restrain came to English in the middle 1300s. It came from the stem of the Old French word restraindre, which came from the Latin word restringere, which means to draw back tightly, confine, or check. The prefix re- in Latin means “back, again, or against”.

So the difference in Latin is the difference between “together” and “again”. The difference is one of agency, of someone working together to keep in check or someone returning again to a place of control. I stand by my original declaration of difference. If you’re imposing the control on yourself use restrain; if someone or something else is restricting your action use constraint.

Comity and amity are even more confusing in the dictionary. Amity is defined as friendship and peaceful harmony. The secondary definition is of “mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship, especially between nations.” Comity is defined first as mutual courtesy and civility and second as “respect for one country for the laws, judicial decisions, and institutions of the other.” It sounds like amity is a closer relationship than comity. Comity includes courtesy, civility and respect, and implies peaceful coexistence I almost used harmony instead of coexistence, but you can respect, be courteous and civil toward someone without any agreement with the way they act or believe. Amity implies a closer relationship, a friendship, and more agreement in using the word harmony. So much for definitions. Does etymology add to our understanding?

Etymonline.com (since I’m citing sources again) says comity comes to English through the French word comité, which they got from the Latin comitas. Comitas means courtesy or kindness. What’s interesting is that comity’s use to mean courtesy didn’t happen until the 1540s, or almost a century and a half after the word came into English use (if you can’t do the math that means it arrived in the early 1400s.) Its use in the phrase comity of nations isn't found until 1862, when there wasn't much comity in the U.S.

So allow your comity to develop into amity, by practicing restraint and avoiding the need for constraints. 

Bubbles Part II

As we discovered last week, you can be ebullient and exuberant in your effervescence. And exuberance is defined as effusive enthusiasm, what does effusive mean? And if being effervescent is another way of saying you’re bubbly and vivacious, what does vivacious mean?

Effusive is perhaps the most negative of the words in this bubbly exposition. It means unduly demonstrative, in a way that shows a lack of reserve. It is still a boiling over, but beyond the bounds of normalcy. It came to English in the 1660s (the decade after effervescence) as the adjective form of the noun effusion, which is the first form of the word to come to English, in about 1400. Effusion means pouring out (literally) or outpouring (figuratively).  The Middle French also had the word effusion, and got it from the Latin word effusionem, which means pouring forth, or spreading abroad. Effusion was not used of speech or emotion until the 1650s, after which the quick, decade later development of an adjective form was useful. It has developed a negative connotation of being unduly demonstrative, as we have perhaps become more restrained in our language usage.

Vivacious is somewhat less descriptive of language than of personality or action. It means lively and 

animated, and came to English a decade before effusion (in the 1640s). It came directly from Latin (no detour through France as have the other words in these two successive blog posts on bubbles.) The Latin word is vivax, the genitive of which is vivacis. Once again, the noun form (vivacity) preceded the adjective form in coming to English. Vivacity entered the language in the early 15^th century, from the Latin nominative form of vivacis, vivacitas. What did these words vivax, vivacis, and vivacitas refer to? A vital force, a liveliness. These Latin words were formed from the word vivere,, which means “to live”. We get the word vital from the same root word.

By the way, bubbles are defined almost spherical bodies of gas wrapped in a liquid. I know bubbles can be of something besides gas, but most bubbles are gas, so the aforementioned definition of effervescence should not include “bubbles of gas”; “bubbles of…” should only be used when the bubbles are of something other than gas. The word bubble came to English in the early 14^th century as a noun, and wasn’t used as a verb for over 100 years. It may have come from the Middle Dutch noun bobble or the Middle Low German verb bubbeln or both. Since it was originally used in English as a noun I vote for the Middle Dutch (something I’ve never done before.) And for those who enjoy them, the words bubble and bath were not recorded in tandem (as in "bubble bath" in case you're not tracking) until the year of my older brother’s birth – 1949.

So quit reading and enjoy the effervescence of a bubble bath. It will help you be ebullient today, maybe even exuberant if not vivacous. Just don’t be effusive. 

Bubbles Part I

One need not be a Shakespeare scholar to be familiar with the scene of three witches gathered around a cauldron that contains a boiling liquid. In fact, many who have never seen scene (I enjoyed putting those two words in succession) one of the fourth act of Macbeth will visualize readily that image.

But that is not the image we bring up when we hear the words ebullient, effervescent or exuberant. All three have a generally positive connotation, while the witch scene, with its “Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn, and cauldron bubble” has a distinctly negative tone.

Yet they are all related by bubbles, a very playful and childlike word.

Effervescence is the most recent word to come to English, the only one to have arrived after Shakespeare left this mortal coil (that phrase is from Hamlet, not Macbeth). It came to English in the 1650s (Shakespeare died in 1616) from the French word of the same spelling, which came to France from the Latin word effervescentem, the present participle form of effervescere, which means to boil up or boil over. Its root word is fervere, which is the word from which we get (wait for it…) fervor. Given its original sense of boiling over, it is no surprise that the verb’s definition has come to be something that giving off bubbles of gas (like fermenting liquors) or a display of enthusiasm, excitement or liveliness that is vivacious and ebullient.

Ebullient came to English as an adjective around the same time Shakespeare was writing the Henry VI trilogy, in the 1590s. It came from the Latin word ebullientem, which is the present participle of ebullire, which means to boil over, just like effervescere (I don’t know why there are two words for boil over in Latin – any Latin scholars want to explain?) But the root word for ebullientem is bullire, which means “to bubble.” It came to have the meaning of enthusiastic by the 1660s, and now the adjective means “overflowing with fervor, enthusiasm, or excitement; high-spirited.” It also continues to mean “bubbling up like a boiling liquid.”

The oldest English word is exuberant, and it is the only word not to use bubbles in its definition. The adjective came to English in the mid-15^th century, from the Middle French word exuberant. The French got their word from the Latin word exuberantum, which means “overabundance.” Exuberantum is the present participle of exuberare, which is formed by adding the prefix ex- (meaning “thoroughly”) to uberare, which means to be fruitful. Uberare is related to uber, the Latin word for udder. Perhaps we should think of boiling milk when we use the word exuberant.  It is defined as “effusively and almost uninhibitedly enthusiastic, … abounding in vitality, extremely joyful and vigorous.” It also means (probably in biology class – I didn’t pay attention) profuse in growth or production.

More bubbly words to come next week – stay tuned for Bubbles, Part II. (Love those Latin Numerals.)