Sunday, January 30, 2011

Let's Drink to That

Complete/replete, apprehend/comprehend, and gourmet/gourmand – what’s the good word in each pair?


Complete means “lacking no component part; full; whole; entire.” Replete means either “well-filled or plentifully supplied” or “stuffed with food and drink; gorged”.

It is possible to be replete without being complete, and complete does not always indicate a state of being replete. The degree of supply is greater with replete than complete, but the quality of the supply is greater with complete than replete. Since replete included the idea of food, it is somewhat like the difference between gourmet and gourmand.

A gourmet is someone “who likes and is an excellent judge of fine foods and drink” whereas a gourmand is akin to a glutton, “a person with a hearty liking for good food and drink and a tendency to indulge in them to excess.” It is a matter of supply with the gourmand and a matter of quality with the gourmet. Do you comprehend the difference?

Speaking of comprehend, there’s also the difference between comprehend and apprehend. Apprehend in its second definition, that is. (Not the primary one that means capture.) It also means “to take hold of mentally; perceive; understand.” How does that differ from comprehend? It also means to understand, but my dictionary says “to grasp mentally”. What’s the difference between grasping and holding? In usage comprehend is the less intense form – when you take hold of an idea it’s comprehended, but when the idea takes hold of you it’s apprehended. But that differentiation is open to refutation.

Where did all these words come from?

Complete came to English from Latin through Old French in the 14th century. The Latin word completus was formed by adding the intensive prefix com- to the word for fill plere, which is the root word from which we also get the word plenary. (The Old French word is complet.) Replete has the same path and timing, and re- is also an intensive prefix. So those who spoke Latin also had the two words, and the Old French kept them and gave them to us.

It is interesting how similar were the paths of apprehend/comprehend to complete/replete.

Both came to English in the 14th century from Latin (apprehendere, comprehendere), but comprehend didn’t get to spend time in France on its way to England. Apprehend has corresponding French words (Old French: aprendre, Modern French apprendre, which means to learn or be informed about and from which we get the word apprentice.) The Latin root word prehendere is the word for seize, so you can see how it could be used in both words.

Gourmet and gourmand, as you might guess, are both of French origin. But you might not guess that, as etymonline.com says, they are “not connected.” Back in the 13th century there was an Old French word for a young man, groume. It came to mean a wine-taster or wine merchant’s servant. But it wasn’t until 1820 that it took the meaning in English of someone who is a connoisseur (see 11/14/10 blog) of food and drink.

Gourmand comes from the Middle French word gourmant, which meant gluttonous (it was originally an adjective). In the late 15th century (in case you’re wondering, at about the same time King Henry VIII was born) it found its way to England, with the meaning of glutton. It didn’t take the meaning of someone simply fond of good eating until 1758.
Make sense? Then let’s drink to that.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Power to the People, Part II

The Greek words hoi polloi are literally translated “the many”, and are the plural form of the word polys, from which we get our common prefix for many: poly-. But the word hoi is Greek for “the”, so the common usage “the hoi polloi” is like saying “ATM machine”, and belongs in the Department of Redundancy Department (a nod to one of my favorite comedy groups as a teen, Firesign Theatre, who debuted the Department of Redundancy Department on their album “Don’t Crush that Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers.” I’ve often thought of another one of their opuses - opae? - titled “How Can You Be Two Places at Once When You’re Not Anywhere at All?” Check out firesigntheatre.com for more information on this group – you can even purchase their recordings. I particularly enjoyed “Nick Danger, Third Eye”.)


Hoi polloi was used as a Greek phrase by Dryden in 1668 and by Byron in 1822, and both of them used “the hoi polloi”, setting the precedent for generations of subsequent needless duplications. Hoi polloi is credited with becoming an English phrase in 1837. But whereas demotic contrasts with priestly or formal, hoi polloi has a patronizing or contemptuous sense to it, similar to the use hoi polloi would make of those who are hoity-toity, a much older word in English that will have to wait for another time.

Our final word this week is used in the definition of our first word (from Sunday): vernacular. Not to be confused with funicular (Lengthy Diversion Warning: Funicular came to English in the 1660s from the Latin word funiculus, the diminutive form of the word for cord or rope: funis. Funicular is most commonly used of rail cars suspended on each end of a cord or cable: when one goes down the incline it pulls the other up the hill or mountain. Now back to the theme of the week.), vernacular is taken from the Latin phrase vernacula vocabula. (Has a nice ring, doesn’t it?) Vernacula vocabula essentially means native language. The word verna means home-born slave or native, and is of Etruscan origin (see May 30, 2010 blog).

Vernacular has one of the more lengthy definitions in my dictionary. It has five definitions as an adjective and four as a noun (the fourth of which has two parts). The number of definitions show that it has broad usage, mainly distinguishing either native or common verbiage from more formal or non-native. The final definition in the listing refers to its use in describing the common or non-scientific name of a plant or animal (e.g., person, as opposed to homo sapiens.) I have too often heard the phrase “common vernacular”, but that is another candidate for inclusion in the Department of Redundancy Department.

So, in referring to common writing, use demotic. In referring to common language or terms, use the word vernacular. And, if you want to use a pejorative word for the non-royal, non-elite, non-special-in-any-way people, use hoi polloi (but not “the” hoi polloi – show how really pendantic you can be.)

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Power to the People

This week we look at three words (actually four, because the second “look” is at a two-word phrase) that refer to “the common people.”


The first is the word demotic, which refers to the common usage of words, or vernacular. But it has a second definition that gives us a clue to its etymology: “designation or of a simplified system of ancient Egyptian writing; distinguished from hieratic.” So let’s go to Egypt and find out more about hieratic, demotic, and hieroglyphic.
Hieroglyphics vie with cuneiform writing for the oldest form of writing of which we are aware. According to omniglot.com, a web site about writing systems and languages, hieroglyphics were “used for formal inscriptions on the walls of temples and tombs”, hieratic script was used for everyday writing, and demotic “was used for most other purposes”. Hieroglyphic and hieratic writing was developed at about the same time, and hieratic writing was used until the 26th Dynasty of Egypt, which occurred between 664 and 525 B.C. By the end of its existence it was primarily used for religious purposes, while demotic writing was used for common purposes.

The word demotic was given to the script by Greek historian Herodotus, a man born in Turkey in about 425 B.C. (he is credited with being the world’s first historian). Demotic writing was developed from a northern variant of the Hieratic script in around 660 BC. During the 26th Dynasty it became the preferred script at court, however during the 4th century B.C. it was gradually replaced by the Greek-derived Coptic alphabet. The most recent example of writing in the Demotic script dates from 425 AD, so it lasted over a millennium.

Since we know that the words hieratic and demotic come from a Greek historian, what are the meanings of the Greek words? The Greek word hieratikos comes from the word for priesthood, hierateia. Hieros is the root word and means sacred. The first use of hieratic in English is in the 1650s.

Demotic, on the other hand, comes from the Greek word demotikos, which means “of or for the common people.” The word demos means common people, and is the word from which we get democracy – rule by the common people. Yet the word demotic was confined to Greek and Egyptian writing until 1822, when it was accepted as an English word. It remained the differentiating word from hieratic for less than a decade, coming to mean “of the common people” by 1831. Interestingly, it eventually was used of Greek, beginning in 1927.
Our second (or second and third) word is hoi polloi. It is never used as hoi or polloi, and unfortunately is seldom used without the redundant word “the”; it means “the common people”.
 
 
For more on hoi polloi and why saying "the hoi polloi" is redundant, and the rest of this blog, you'll have to wait until Wednesday. See you then!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Free at Last! is our Continuing Imprecation - Part 2

Now, back to our irregularly scheduled blog:



...A synonym for the word denigration that is given in my dictionary is defame, but defamation has legal implications that denigration doesn’t, and in my experience has a stronger connotation. Use denigration if it’s just mean-spirited, not willful and potentially illegal.

One more thing about the word denigration before we move on: the Oxford English Dictionary says, as quoted on etymonline.com, “Apparently disused in 18th c. and revived in 19th c.” Denigration is a veritable Lazarus among words.


I made reference ealier to the word defamation and its legal sense. Defamation came to English in about 1300, from the Old French word diffamacion, which they got from the Middle Latin word defamation that was from the Latin word deffamaionem. It means to injure or attack the reputation or honor of someone by false and malicious statements. In legal terminology it covers both slander and libel. According to dancingwithlawyers.com, “Defamation of character is written or spoken injury to a person or organization's reputation. Libel is the written act of defamation, vs. slander, the oral act of defamation.”

Deprecation is a more interesting word. Its noun form came to English in the late 15th century, and didn’t take the verb form for over a century. (Usually it seems the noun is formed from the verb.) It came from the Middle French word deprécation, which the French got from the Latin word deprecationem. The stem word is deprecari, which is again formed by adding the prefix de-, this time to the word translated “plead in excuse, avert by prayer” precari.

Our word pray, which came to English in the late 13th century, also came through French (this time Old French word preier, since it was earlier), from the Latin word precari. The simple definition given in this case is "ask earnestly, beg," also "pray to a god or saint."

Deprecate, the latest of today’s words to come to English, means to feel and express disapproval of; to plead against or belittle. It also comes from Latin, from the word deprecatus, which is the past participle of the word deprecari, which means to pray (something) away. It originally meant “to pray against or for deliverance from” (etymonline.com), but within a couple of decades had come to mean simply to express disapproval.

And how does the word in the title – imprecation – relate? It must have a similar root. Whereas deprecation came in the late 15th century, imprecation came in the middle of the 15th century from the Latin word imprecationem. It has the same stem, precari, but has the prefix in-, which means within, and apparently Latin didn’t worry about the difference between an m and an n. Its formal meaning is the act of invoking evil or a curse on someone, but its common usage is begging or pleading as opposed to praying. Be aware of its formal meaning, especially in reading books written over 100 years ago.


Now, to come full circle back to where we started, the phrase self-deprecating, which is the one for which I was looking, was apparently first used (at least in writing) in 1958. I was being self-deprecating. Although I have forgotten why.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Free at last! is our Continuing Imprecation - Part 1

This week’s posts (it will take two posts) will take us on a few diversions, but that’s because there are some interesting side trips in etymology. One word leads to another, which leads to another. Follow along.

I used a phrase this past week and immediately wondered if I’d used the correct one. Is it self-deprecating or self-denigrating? What’s the difference?

Denigration (we’ll take them in alphabetical order) is the noun form of the word denigrate, which means to blacken, or to disparage the character or reputation of someone. The word denigrate came to English in the 1520s from the Latin word denigrare. Denigrare is formed by adding the prefix de- (meaning complete) to the stem nigr-, which means black. And, yes, the word negro comes from the same stem word, but not until at least three decades after denigrate arrived. It came from either Spanish or Portugese, where the word for black is negro.

This being the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday in the U.S., let’s take a diversion into that etymology and usage. The word Negro has been increasingly disused and pejorative as a descriptive word for an African-American, a process that began in the 1960s. Etymonline.com cites the N.Y. Times Stylebook in its formalization and capitalized use in the early 20th century.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in his most famous speech – that at the Lincoln Memorial on August 28, 1963 – used the word Negro by my count 15 times and the word black five times. As I read the speech again, trying to count the two uses, I was inspired again; it has to rank among the greatest speeches ever uttered. Allow me to share the last paragraph:

…when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”
When I was a child during the 1960s (living in a neighborhood that changed from primarily white residents to primarily African-American residents in a matter of a couple years) I observed the changing also of the race identifying word from Negro to black (as in Black Panthers) to African-American. (The once-used adjective “colored”, for those too young to remember, came into disuse because “all people are colored”; it is just the depth of color that differs.) Because of their association with those times of deprecation, words like negro and colored now also have a negative connotation.

Those who lived through the 1960s will never forget the process, with sit-ins and marches and riots (and for me they were all at my high school)  by which racial equality became a national goal. Hopefully the generation will come soon that will have no inkling of the great gulf of hatred and denigration that once existed between races. Then we will truly be free at last.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Cheating, a Scythe, and King Richard III

Sometimes the origin of a word and its use is not easy to determine. When that’s the case we will often feel cheated. Such is the case with two of our words for today: cozenage and defalcation. The research surrounding their meaning and etymology leaves one feeling less than satisfied. Which is what cozenage and defalcation do, too.

Defalcation is a noun meaning embezzle, or otherwise steal or misuse funds entrusted to your care. Embezzle differs from defalcation in that it includes either the act of defrauding or the use of the funds for yourself. Defalcation would be the correct word to use if the funds are misused or stolen but not for personal gain or by fraud.

Defalcation (the verb form is defalcate) came to English in the late 15th century, which is at least six decades before the word defalcate arrived. In Middle Latin there was a word defalcationem which was formed from combining de- (which meant to take away or down) and falcem, the word for sickle, scythe or pruning hook. (Our English word falcate refers to something shaped like a sickle or scythe.)

Embezzle came to English a little earlier in the 15th century, and came from the Anglo-French word embesiler. In Old French besillier meant to torment, gouge, or destroy. In about 1300 the English word meant to steal or cause to disappear, but by the 1580s embezzle was being used with our current meaning.

Cozenage is the noun form of the verb cozen, which is pronounced the same as the word cousin. Cozenage means cheating, fraud or deception (the –age suffix is pronounced “ij”).We know it came into use in English (at least in its verb form) in the 1560s, but where it came from is not known. It could have come from the French word cousiner, which according to etymonline.com means “to cheat on pretext of being a cousin”, or it could come from the Old French word coçon. Coçon referred to a trader or merchant, and came from the Latin word for horse trader, cocionem. It appears that horse traders have long had a reputation for blurring the line between getting a good deal and cheating.

The interesting thing about the definition of “acting like a cousin” is that the word cousin itself has changed meaning since the 1560s. Shakespeare, in King Richard III Act III Scene IV uses the phrase (which I will try to remember):

My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow.
I have been long a sleeper, but I trust
My absence doth neglect no great design
Which by my presence might have been concluded.
When Shakespeare used the word cousin he didn’t mean that Gloucester (the character who utters the lines) had relatives to whom he was speaking. According to The Collaborative International Dictionary of English v.0.44, in Shakespeare’s time cousin was (or also was, since it did mean aunt or uncle’s child), a title “given by a king to a nobleman, particularly to those of the council. In English writs, etc., issued by the crown, it signifies any earl.” So acting as if one was a cousin would mean impersonating royalty, something I’m sure was not appreciated.

Cousin, by the way, has some other interesting etymology, at least when comparing it in Latin. It came to English much earlier than cozen, arriving in the 12th century from the Old French word cosin. The Old French got it from Latin, where the word was consobrinus and meant your mother’s sister’s son. Latin had eight words for relationships that we would use the word cousin to cover. Consobrina meant mother’s sister’s daughter, patruelis was your father’s brother’s son, atruelis your mother’s brother’s son, amitinus your father’s sister’s son, and so on (again, according to etymonline.com).

I don’t think any of my cousins cozen, but a couple are a little falcate…

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Literati Glitterati - Part 2

[Continued from Sunday]

While erstwhile has an archaic usage as an adverb it is now used as an adjective meaning former, or of an earlier time. What is interesting is that the word erst, while its definitions as either adverb or adjective are deemed either obsolete or archaic in usage, means formerly, too. We’ve lost the simple word and added a while. Erstwhile is a synonym of quondam (see 7/11/10 blog).


Etymonline.com says that it is a cognate with Old Swedish, Old High German (erist) and German (erst). A cognate, it also says, is “a cousin, not a sibling”; it refers to something with a common descent. The word cognate came to English from the Latin word cognatus in the 1640s. Cognatus, it says, is formed from a combining of the prefix com- which means together, and gnatus, which is the past participle of gnasci, which is an older form of the word nasci, which means “to be born” and from which we get the word nascent (see 2/15/10 blog). I find that to be an interesting etymology (or is it a geneology?)

As to my being a picaresque propaedeutic, I will spend some time this week learning as much as possible  from my predecessor in my new position. That is what makes me propaedeutic.

Propaedeutic means “having the nature of elementary or introductory instruction.” It comes from Greek, the “pro-“ being a prefix we use in English that means before (in this case) and paideuein, which means “to teach” (a cognate from which we get the word pedagogy). It is a relatively recent addition to English, having arrived first as a noun in 1798 and then becoming an adjective in 1849. The current noun form has added the suffix –al.

Picaresque is a picturesque word. It is an adjective “designating or of sharp-witted vagabonds and their roguish adventures.” It is the latest of today’s words to arrive in English, having come from Spanish in 1810. The Spanish word was picaresco, which means “roguish”, and was formed from picaro (rogue) or possibly from picar (to pierce). It was originally used in the phrase “roman picaresque”, or rogue novel. “The classic example of a roman picaresque is Gil Blas” says etymonline.com.

The full title of the novel is “The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane”. Gil Blas was written by Alain René le Sage and published in 1730. According to Wikipedia “it is considered to be the last masterpiece of the picaresque genre.”

Will I be picaresque in my new position? Perhaps not as a vagabond, and depending on your definition of rogue, perhaps not as that either; but I hope to be somewhat witty, and will definitely be roaming and will likely recount some of my adventures in this space, since I was given a journal as a gift on my departure from the AFP chapter in Modesto. But I’ll never be a literati glitterati.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Literati Glitterati - Part 1

Today is the final day of my three-day interregnum, the period between my former and future employment. I am an erstwhile Director of Marketing and Development, and will soon be a picaresque propaedeutic (I hope).


Interregnum is a word not too difficult to discern. Inter- means between, and regnum refers to a reign. So an interregnum is the period between two reigns, usually when there is no ruler or sovereign. It could also refer to these days between the recess of the 111th and the installation of the 112th congress. It has been used in English since the 1570s, prior to which (one can only assume) it was only used in Latin, its source language.

I remember encountering the word interregnum while reading something about the time between the war of 1812 and the Civil War. I also encountered another word that was new to me at that time: antebellum. Ante- is a Latin prefix meaning before with bellum being the Latin word for war. In the United States it usually refers to the period before the Civil War even though we’ve had a few wars since then. Its most common usage is in reference to the pre-Civil War south. Its first attestation is an entry in Mary Chesnut’s diary on July 14, 1862.

Mary Chesnut is a remarkable figure in American history. Daughter and wife of U.S. Senators, her family became leading figures in the confederacy (her husband becoming a general and aide to both Gen. Beauregard and Jefferson Davis), and her diaries of that time, which were published in an ill-fated attempt to relieve the debts incurred in the Civil War, have become



…generally acknowledged today as the finest literary work of the Confederacy. Spiced by the author's sharp intelligence, irreverent wit, and keen sense of irony and metaphorical vision, it uses a diary format to evoke a full, accurate picture of the South in civil war. Chesnut's book, valued as a rich historical source, owes much of its fascination to its juxtaposition of the loves and griefs of individuals against vast social upheaval and much of its power to the contrasts and continuities drawn between the antebellum world and a war-torn country.


- Elizabeth Muhlenfeld of Florida State University (on the web site Documenting the American South – http://docsouth.unc.edu/southlit/chesnut/bio.html)


While finding interregnum in the dictionary I encountered a new word (to me) that I haven’t seen used: interrex. It refers to the person in charge between reigns. (Remember Alexander Haig, who died last Feb. 20, 2010? If not, he’s easy to find on the internet.)



The word erstwhile has a more obscure path to English. It arrived about 10 years before interregnum and came from Middle English where it was spelled erest, and meant soonest or earliest. Even in Old English, from whence it came to Middle English, it was a superlative of time and had been spelled aerest. The superlative suffix –est was attached to the word aer, from which we get the word ere (oft used in poetry).

[More on Wednesday]