Winston S. Churchill Biography Words

I recently finished reading part two of a biological trilogy on Winston S. Churchill by William Manchester (The Last Lion, Alone: 1932-1940). As is my wont (a word for yet another post), words I didn't know or didn't know the definition of were kept track of on the final page of the index. Of the 14 words I listed, only one, limpid, had been part of a previous post; given that this blog has covered 783 words so far, to have only one already covered was a surprise to me. And I have 268 words still on my list.

So let's get to the seven words not on either list:

The most often used word previously unknown to me was poilus. The word is the plural of poilu (pronounced pwah-loo) and is the word for a common French soldier. It was first used at the beginning of World War I, in 1914. The French word literally means hairy, as in beards or animal coats. In the 1800s Balzac used it as an adjective that meant strong, brave, and courageous. If you read the book, you will come to the conclusion that the soldiers must have had a lot of hair.

The second most-often used unknown word was demarche. It can still be spelled démarche since it is  a French word used in English, but it is common enough to be considered also an English word. Particularly since it's been in use in English since the 1650s. Originally meaning stride or step, it now refers to a diplomatic act such as an appeal or protest, a meaning it has had since the 1670s. But according to etymonline.com it was "never quite anglicized."

I thought I had already blogged on gravamen, but did not find it either in the blog or in the waiting words list. I've encountered it before, but apparently didn't capture it for the blog. The short definition of gravamen is "a grievance," but its primary used now is for the part of an accusation that weighs most heavily against the accused. It comes from the Late Latin word gravamen, which meant trouble or inconvenience, and has been used in English since the 1640s.

I was also surprised to not find anything on perfervid. Perfervid is an adjective that describes that which is very fervent or ardent or fervid. (There are three words for another post - what's the difference?) Perfervid was first used in English in 1830, derived from the Latin word perfervidus. In Latin the prefix per- means "completely" and fervid means heated or vehement.

Two more words, just for fun: quiddity and diathesis. Manchester used them both in the same sentence. In telling about Churchill's moral courage and honest eloquence was "...the intrinsic Churchill, his quiddity and diathesis." (The Last Lion: Alone, p. 348.)

Quiddity means the essential nature of a thing, or the quality that makes something what it is. It has been used in English since the late 1300s, having been adopted from the Medieval Latin word quidditas. Its original classical meaning was the real essence of a thing. Along the way it has developed the meaning of "a trifling nicety in argument," or a quibble. Perhaps it's been a confusion between the two words rather than a developed meaning. In Latin quid  means "what," so quidditas essentially means "whatness."

Diathesis is the word for a constitutional predisposition toward something. Used most often relating to a disease or affection, it can apply to anything that one has difficulty not doing. It has been in use in English since the mid-1600s, and comes from a "Neo-Latin" word with the same spelling.

Thanks for sharing with me in my latest discovery of words new to me. Happy New Word Year to you.

Love and Joy (but not the way you think) to You and Yours

I was listening to a famous conservative talk show host this week as I Rushed to do some last minute shopping, and thought I heard the misuse of either the word averse or adverse, and went to see if I'd covered those words. They are linked to the posts in which I'd included them, and in reading those posts I discovered a couple of words on which I had not posted.

The first was internecine, a good word I could have mentioned in the post on interregnum, interrex and antebellum. It is defined as conflict within a group, and is often used in the phrase "internecine warfare," referring to, for instance, fighting between children or within a political party. Inter- as a prefix is understood to refer to something in the middle of two other things, but -necine is not something that brings a reference to mind. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (in this blog when we refer to the OED we must bow) though, the inter- prefix is not used to mean between or mutual but is used as an intensive. 

The Latin word from which it came to English (in the 1660s) is internecinus, which meant very deadly or murderous. When Johnson wrote his influential dictionary he made the mistake of assigning the prefix meaning as "between" and it's caused confusion ever since. The dictionary contains both definitions (mutual destruction and infighting), so you have your choice. But now you can be pedantic by correcting those who use internecine instead of the word infighting.

Another word used in the post on averse and adverse that I haven't covered is the word lascivious. Lascivious is an adjective that describes something that arouses sexual desire or is suggestive of lust (like a gesture or a look). Lust is the noun for a strong sexual desire or appetite. 

Lascivious has been used in English since the mid-1400s, when it arrived from the Middle French word lascivieux. The Middle French word came from the Late Latin word laciviosus. In Latin lascivia meant not only lewdness but also playfulness or frolicsomeness. 

Lust goes much further back in time. It was an Old English word that may have come from Old Saxon, Old Frisian, German, or Dutch, all of whom have the word lust. In Middle English it could refer to not only pleasure and delight, but also an appetite or a liking for someone. It developed its sexual connotation when it was used to translate the Bible into English. When the translators got to I John 2:16, they encountered the Latin phrase concupiscentia carnis. Looking for a suitable Old English word to describe sexual desires of the flesh (or concupiscence) they settled on the words "lusts of the flesh."

Concupiscence has been used in English since the mid-1300s, and came directly from the aforementioned Latin word, which means "eager desire." At this point, the only desire it refers to is sexual desire, but originally it could have referred to that chocolate bar or the feeling children (or their dads and grandpas) have when they get up on Christmas morning. 

I hope your Christmas is replete with fulfilled concupiscence (in its old Latin sense) and no internecine conflicts. 

I'm Home, Lucid!

Last week we looked at some similar words that can be used interchangeably, and I shared my confusion with when to use “which” and when to use “that.” While compel and impel can be understood by differing definitions, and further and farther by different etymologies, which and that in the context of which (not that) I am referring is a matter of usage, not etymology or definition.

I even added parenthetical comments demonstrating some instances where it’s clear that “which” is the only word which (that?) can be used, and some instances where it’s clear that “that” is the only word which (that?) can be used. But I didn’t have space to clarify, so let’s get to that (an instance in which “which” won’t work) now.

What about which/that? You can see from my parenthetical comments above and last week that (can’t use “which” here) there are times when “which” and “that” can both make sense. But which (can’t use “that” here) word is the good word to use?

I found one site that suggests “use ‘that’ to introduce a ‘restrictive clause’ and ‘which’ to introduce a ‘nonrestrictive clause.’” The difference between a restrictive and a non-restrictive clause is explained as depending on whether you are referring to only the person or thing that you just mentioned (as I did with the site) or whether it describes not only what you’ve referenced but other things as well. Further, the site explains that if you remove the restrictive clause the meaning changes and the sentence loses specificity, but with an unrestrictive clause it wouldn’t.

Another site, while agreeing on the restrictive/nonrestrictive clause explanation, adds that usage has changed over the past century (as usage tends to do) and informs us that restrictive clauses are (or at least used to when grammar teaches could wield rulers on knuckles with impunity) not separated from the rest of the sentence with commas, while non-restrictive clauses are.  The article even quotes Sir Ernest Gowers, writing in the 1965 edition of Fowler’s Modern English Usage, saying he “comments rather sadly about this situation.” What is quoted is:

If writers would agree to regard that as the defining relative pronoun, and which as the non-defining, there would be much gain both in lucidity and in ease. Some there are who follow this principle now; but it would be idle to pretend that it is the practice either of most or of the best writers.

So, if you wish to be a stickler, use “that” when defining a word, and “which” when being less restrictive. 

Does that make it easy (or at least lucid)? If so, to misquote Ricky Ricardo, “I’m home, lucid!”

And that (not which), my friends, is a reference not readily understood by most people under age 50. 

Confused About Further and Farther and Compelled to Blog About It

This week I encountered the word impel where I would have expected the word compel. Why did the author use the former rather than the latter? Then later this week I was writing an email and wondered whether further or farther was the appropriate word. How do you know which is the good word to use, and speaking of which, that with which I struggle sometimes is whether to use which or that.

What’s the good word for each situation is not always determined by definition, but let’s start with those that are: impel and compel.

Compel is defined as “to force or drive, especially to a course of action” while impel is defined as “to drive or urge forward; press on; incite or constrain to action.” Not much difference. Other definitions of compel all have the word force in them, while neither definition of impel does (at least on dictionary.com). But other than that the definitions don’t provide a lot of separation of meaning. Let’s look at etymonline.com and see if the sources for both words sheds some light.

Compel came to English in the mid-1300s from the Old French word compeller, which came from the Latin word compellere, which means “to drive together, drive to one place” (when used of cattle) or “to force of compel” when used of persons. The Latin word was formed by attaching the prefix com- that means “together” together with pellere, which means “to drive” and from which we also get the word pulse. We also got impel from pellere, (in the early 1400s) with “im-“ as the prefix. In Latin, im- indicates entry, as in in, into, or upon.

Now we have some clarification. Impel should have a sense of acting upon something from outside. Compel is more of a force from within working together with outside influences. Its usage bears this out – compel is often used in the first person “I am compelled” while impel is rarely used in the first person.

So what about further and farther? The only difference dictionary.com provides in defining the two is that further has a tertiary definition of “additional; more” that farther does not. Both are used when describing a greater distance or more advanced point. Back to etymology.com to see if this helps clarify anything.

What we find is what I enjoy about words. Let’s begin with further, because it goes further back. While etymonline.com does not indicate the timing of its first use in English, it does show furthermore as appearing about 1200, which predates anything in the farther lineage. Further comes from the Old English word furđor if used as an adverb, or furđra as the adjective. Additionally, the etymonline.com clarifies for us that the word is “…etymologically representing either ‘forth-er’ or ‘fore-ther.’”

Moving farther ahead, to farther, we find that it first appeared in about 1300 as a variant of further, and etymonline tells us further that farther replaced ferrer as the comparative form of the Old English word fierr, that (which?) meant “far.” Then it goes on to explicate that fierr is “itself a comparative but no longer felt as one.” Etymonline.com also tells us that the vowel change (from u to a) was “influenced by the root vowel, and confusion with the Middle English ferþeren, which (that?) meant “to assist, promote, [or] advance.” It further (farther won’t do here) states “There is no historical basis for the notion that farther is of physical distance and further of degree or quality.” In fact, with the exception of the meaning of additional that the dictionary provides for the word further, the words can be legitimately used interchangeably. Further has a somewhat more pedantic usage while farther is probably more common, at least in my experience.

So I hope that clears up any confusion on those two pairs. Next week we'll get to the motherlode of my confusion: which vs. that. I bet you're excited and can't wait. In the mean time, enjoy some old episodes of "I Love Lucy." It will come in handy for my hilarious close next week.

I'm Adamantine About Obdurate, But Not Déclassé

Time to follow up on some words from previous posts.

On February 15, 2010 I closed my blog by writing “I won’t be obdurate or adamantine about it, no matter what the title says.” But I never got around to looking at those words.

Obdurate is an adjective that means unmoved or stubbornly resistant to moral influence. The first appearance of any form of the word was its noun form, obduration, in about 1400. I have not heard the noun form used, but have heard the adjective often. It appeared in the mid 1400s. The word in whatever form comes from the Latin word obduratus, which means “hardened” and is the past participle of obdurare, which means “be hard, hold out, persist, or endure.” In fact, endure comes from the root word of obdurare, durus, which means hard.

Obdurate is similar to contumacious or pervicacious, but obdurate has a moral quality the other two words do not, contumacious has a haughty quality the others don’t. Pervicacious you’ll have to let me know how it compares.

Adamantine is an interesting word to me. I thought it was the adjective form of the noun adamant, but adamant can also be used as an adjective, making adamantine duplicative. Adamantine also came to English directly from Latin in about 1200. The Latin word is adamantinus and means “hard as steel, inflexible.” It comes from the Greek word adamantinos, which is a form of adamus, from which in the mid-1400s English we got the noun form of adamant (through the Latin via the French word adamant). Its use as an adjective came into use late in the 1400s.

Adamus was also the Latin name of the hypothetical hardest material, and literally meant invincible. It meant hard as steel until the 1670s, when it was first used to mean unshakeable or stubborn or obdurate. Adamant the noun was used in antiquity (according to etymonline.com) of substances like white sapphire, steel, and diamonds. In Old English it was ađamas, which meant “a very hard stone.”

While obduracy is a force of will, being adamantine is a result of character or nature.

So many words for stubborn. I wonder if there are as many words for being nice and compliant.

Also, earlier this month I used the word déclassé. While I italicized it and used the accents the French requires, it turns out that it has made its way into English usage sufficiently that I could have just written declasse. While I have never seen it that way, etymonline.com lists it as such, and a search of dictionaries provides examples of its appearance without accent marks and non-italicized. It is possible that the change from French word being used in English to an English word is still in process, but since I have always heard it pronounced as a three-syllable word (dey-kla-sey) I think the non-accent spelling without italics is still premature. It’s been used in English since 1887, and has the same meaning in English that it does in French: to cause to lose class, status, or social standing. Of course, since I have never had class or social standing, I can’t personally become déclassé, and I am adamant about that. (But not obdurate.)