Eponyms

An eponym is a word that derives from, or that is believed to derive from, the name of a real or ficticious person.

Eponym comes from the Ancient Greek ἐπώνυμος (epṓnumos), from ἐπί (epí, – upon) & ὄνυμα (ónuma – name).

Examples of eponyms include:

  • Boycott, from Charles Boycott, an English land agent based in Ireland in the 19th century.
  • Caesarean section, Tsar, Czar and Kaiser from Gaius Julius Caesar, Roman consul and general in the first century BC.
  • Europe, and variants, from Εὐρώπη (Eurṓpē), the mother of King Minos of Crete in Greek mythology.
  • Dunce, from John Duns Scotus (c 1265-1308), a philospher whose work was admired at first, but was later attacked and ridiculed. His followers were known as Dunsmen or Dunses, and the word dunce eventually became associated with lack of learning or opposition to new thinking. By the 1580s, a dunce was a dim witted person [source].
  • Leotard, from Jules Leotard, a French acrobat and trapeze artist in the 1800s

Many more examples of eponyms.

If your name was to become an eponym, what would you like to be remembered for? And what form would you like it to take?

Going to the circus

Last week I went to the circus. It wasn’t a traditional circus in a big top with animals and clowns, but the wonderful Pirates of the Carabina with their Relentless Unstoppable Human Machine in the theatre in the local arts centre.

Juggling some clubs

I also saw the film The Greatest Showman, a film based loosely on the life of P.T. Barnum.

I enjoyed both very much, and thought I’d write about the word circus, and related words.

In English a circus can be:

1. A traveling company of performers that may include acrobats, clowns, trained animals, and other novelty acts, that gives shows usually in a circular tent.

2. A round open space in a town or city where multiple streets meet.

3. A spectacle; a noisy fuss

If you’ve ever wondered why Oxford Circus in London is so named, when there are usually no of clowns, acrobats or other circusy things there, now you know.

In ancient Roman a circus was an open air stadium for chariot racing, horse racing and performances. Most Roman circuses were oblong rather than round.

The word circus comes from the Latin circus (ring, circle), from the Ancient Greek κίρκος (kírkos – circle, ring, racecourse), from the Proto-Indo-European *sker / *ker (to turn, to bend), which is also the root of the English words ring and rink. [source].

The word juggle comes the Middle English jogeler (juggler), and and from the Old French jogler, jongler (to have fun with someone), from the Latin joculāri (to jest; joke). It is also related to the Old French jangler (to regale; entertain; have fun; trifle with; tease; mess around; gossip; boast; meddle), from the Frankish *jangalōn (to chit-chat with; gossip).
[source].

The word clown is possibly related to the Icelandic klunni (klutz) or the Old Frisian klönne (klutz) [source].

The word big top, for a large tent, was first used in 1825 by J. Purdy Brown’s itinerating show in Virginia [source]. Why that particularly term was used is uncertain.

The photo is one of me juggling clubs that I took last year. I’ve been juggling and doing other circusy things for over 30 years, and have considered joining a circus, or becoming a circus skills trainer. At the moment I go to the Bangor University Circus Society every week to practise my circus skills, and to teach others. More photos are available on Flickr.

Are any of you into juggling or other circus skills?

Lend me a word

English is a bit of a mongrel. It is basically a West Germanic language, but contains words from many other languages, especially French, Latin, Greek and Old Norse. In fact, only about 26% of English vocabulary is Germanic, 29% is from French, 29% from Latin, 6% from Greek, and the rest from many other languages [source].

When English borrows words from other languages, which it does all the time, most people see the process as a positive one that expands and enriches English vocabulary.

There will always be some who object to the adoption of certain words, however, within a few generations, or even a few years, those words can become fully integrated in the language, and people might not even be aware they were borrowed in the first place.

Japanese is also open and accepting of foreign words, mainly from Chinese and English. These loan words are changed to fit Japanese phonetics, and some are shortened and combined to make original new words, such as リモコン (rimokon) = remote control, and オープンカー (ōpun-kā) = convertible car.

Borrowing between languages is common around the world where languages come into contact. The borrowing often flows from large languages, like English or Spanish, into smaller languages, such as regional, minority and endangered languages.

When smaller languages borrow from bigger languages, some believe the smaller languages suffer in the process, becoming corrupted, impoverished, polluted, etc. Such sentiments are much less common when talking about borrowing from smaller languages into bigger languages.

There seems to be a double standard here.

Borrowing will happen, even though language regulators, such as the Académie française, might object and try to stop it. Languages change and influence one another. They can borrow many words from other languages without losing their identity, and without breaking down into incomprehensible grunts.

What do you think?

Do languages benefit from borrowing?

The Friday of Stupid Spending

Today is apparently Black Friday, a custom that originates in the USA and which has been adopted in the UK. It falls the day after Thanksgiving, which hasn’t been adopted in the UK, and many shops and online retailers offer special deals at this time.

I don’t have any deals for you, as I don’t sell anything, but what I can offer you is the Welsh term for Black Friday – Dydd Gwener y Gwario Gwirion, or “the Friday of Stupid Spending”, which seems to sum it up nicely. Mwy o wybodaeth.

November is also known to some as Movember, the month when some men grow moustaches and rise money for charities related to men’s health. The word was first used in Adelaide in Australia back in 1999, when a group of blokes grew moustaches during November and raised money for an animal charity. Another group of men did something similar in Melbourne in 2004, and later set up the Movember Foundation charity.

The Welsh version of Movember is Tashwedd, which combines mwstash (moustache) and Tachwedd (November).

Moustache comes from the French moustache from the Italian mostaccio, from Ancient Greek μουστάκιον (moustákion), a diminutive of the Ancient Greek μύσταξ (mústax – upper lip), from the Proto-Indo-European *mendʰ- (to chew).

There was another word for moustache in English: kemp, from the Old English cenep (moustache), from Proto-Germanic *kanipaz (mustache, beard), from the Proto-Indo-European *ǵenu- (jaw) [source].

Diolch i Meinir a Josef am y geiriau

Ladders and Schools

Ysgol ac ysgol - a school and a ladder

How are ladders and schools connected?

Well, in Welsh there is one word that means both ladder and school: ysgol [ˈəsgɔl].

The word ysgol, meaning ladder, comes from the Middle Welsh yscawl [ˈәsgaul] (ladder), from Latin scāla (ladder, stairs), from scandō (I climb, ascend, mount), from the the Proto-Indo-European *skend- (to jump).

Related words include:

– ysgol do/grib = roof-ladder
– ysgol raff = rope ladder
– ysgol ffenestr = window ladder
– ysgol bysgod = fish-ladder

The word ysgol, meaning school, comes from the Middle Welsh yscol (school), from the Latin schola (leisure time given to learning; schooltime; a school; a student body; an art gallery), from the Ancient Greek σχολή (skholḗ – leisure, free time, rest; lecture, disputation, discussion; philosophy; school, lecture hall).

Related words include:

– ysgol fabanod = nursery school
– ysgol feithrin = infant school
– ysgol gynradd/elfennol/fach = primary/elementary school
– ysgol uwchradd = secondary school
– ysgol gyfun = comprehensive school
– ysgol breswyl = boarding school
– ysgol hwyrol = night school
– ysgol Sul = Sunday school
– ysgol farddol = bardic school
– ysgol brofiad/profiad = school of life
– prifysgol = university, college, academy, seminary

A similar-sounding, though unrelated word is (y)sgôl [ˈəsgoːl] (squall; disaster, damage; disturbance, commotion, quarrel).

Sources: Wiktionary, Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru, Old and Middle Welsh

Diolch i Diana i awgrymu’r pwnc ‘ma.

Autos and bils

Yesterday I discovered that the Swedish for car is bil [biːl], which is related to the Icelandic bíll [bɪtl̥]. At first I wasn’t sure where these words came from, then realised that they are probably abbreviations of automobile.

The Swedish word does in fact come from automobil, according to Wiktionary. The same word is also found in Danish and Norwegian. In Faroese the word for car is simliar: bilur [ˈpiːlʊɹ].

The word automobile comes from the French automobile, from Ancient Greek αὐτός (autós – self) & the French mobile (moving), from the Latin mobilis (movable). In French this can be shortened to auto [source].

For details of the word car, see this post.

Star sailors and children of the sky

A sailing ship in space

Did you know that the word astronaut means “star sailor”?

This is something I learnt from an interesting Allusionist podcast on Technobabble.

Astronaut comes from the Ancient Greek ἄστρον (ástron – star) and ναύτης (naútēs – sailor). It first appeared as the name of a space craft in Across the Zodiac, a story written by Percy Greg in the 1880. It was used in the 1920s in writing about the possiblity of space travel, and in the U.S. space program from the 1960s [source].

Some other space-related words have a nautical roots as well, including (space)ship, mast, batton and sail.

Other words for star sailors include:

cosmonaut, from the Russian космона́вт (kosmonávt), from the Ancient Greek κόσμος (kósmos – universe) &+ -naut [source]
taikonaut, from the Chinese 太空 (tàikōng – space) +‎ -naut [source]
spationaut, from spatio (space) + -naut [source]

Many other languages use one or other of these words. Here are some exceptions:

– In Chinese an astronaut is either 太空人 (tài​kōng​rén – “space person”), 航天員 (háng​tiān​yuán – “boat sky personnel”), or 宇航员 [宇航員] (yǔhángyuán – “universe boat personnel”) [source].

– In Icelandic an astronaut is a geimfari, from geimur (space) + -fari (traveler) [source].

– In Welsh an astronaut is a gofodwr, from gofod (space) + gŵr (man).

– In Swahili an astronaut is a mwanaanga, from mwana (child) +‎ anga (sky) [source]

Are there interesting words for astronauts in other languages?

Nature service

Yesterday I went to see the ankle specialist at the local hospital,. He said that my ankle has healed well and just needs a bit of physiotherapy. I can start to wean myself off the orthopedic boot, using it less and less each day, and crutches as well. I didn’t wear the boot yesterday afternoon, and tried to get around a bit without the crutches. This worked okay, but when I went out last night to a gig, I wore the boot and took the crutches.

Today I went back to the hospital for some physiotherapy, without the boot, but with the crutches. The physiotherapist gave me some exercises to do, and said that I should try to move my ankle as much as possible. Within a few weeks I probably won’t need to crutches anymore, and in a few months my ankle should be back to normal. I’ll do all the exercises dilligently, and devise others as well, as I want to be fully mobile as soon as possible.

The physiotherapist suggested that I sit with my ankle raised for 20 minutes each hour. I plan to use this time to study languages, practise music, or read. At the moment I’m studying Russian, Swedish and Romanian, mainly on Duolinguo, while keeping my other languages, especially the Celtic ones, ticking over.

The word physiotherapy comes from physio, from Ancient Greek φύσις (phúsis – nature) and therapy, from New Latin therapia (therapy), from Ancient Greek θεραπεία (therapeía – service, medical treatment), from θεραπεύω (therapeúō – I serve, treat medically).

Flutes and buckles

Six weeks ago today I had a slight mishap while ice skating in London, and managed to dislocate and fracture my ankle – both the tibia (shin bone) and fibula (calf bone).

The word tibia comes from the Latin tībia (shin bone, leg). It originally referred to a stalk, or reed pipe, and came to mean shin bone as flutes were originally made with shin bones. It is possibly connected to the Ancient Greek word σίφων (síphōn – siphon, tube) [source].

The word fibula comes from the Latin fībula (clasp, buckle, brooch), from fī(gō) (to fasten), and -bula (a suffix denoting instrument, vessel, place, or person) [source].

My bones should be healed by now – it usually takes about six weeks. I went to the local hospital a few weeks ago for a check-up. They x-rayed my ankle, took off the plaster cast, gave me a special orthopedic boot. They said that my ankle is healing well. I’ll be going back there in just over a week. In the meantime, I’ve started to experiment with putting more weight on my injured leg, using just one crutch, or walking without the crutches. I can does this quite well, though still need the crutches for stairs and steps.

I’ve adapted as best I can to having reduced mobility. It’s frustrating not being able to walk four or five miles a day, as I usually do, but I hope to be able to do that again soon. Some things, like grocery shopping, are difficult, so I order stuff online and had it delivered. I’ve noticed that many places are not very accessible, and that simple things like doors can be tricky to manage on crutches, especially if they have strong springs.

Harmony-loving chorus

Last night I went to an excellent concert at the Pontio Arts Centre featuring the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and the brilliant harpsichordist, Mahan Esfahani.

As well as enjoying the concert, I started thinking about the word philharmonic – what it means, where it comes from, and why it features in the names of many orchestras.

According to Wiktionary, philharmonic means “appreciative of music, but especially to its performance” or “A full-size symphony orchestra”. It comes from the French, philharmonique, from the Italian filarmonico (loving harmony), from the Greek φίλος (phílos – dear, beloved) + αρμονικός (armonikós – harmonic, harmonious) [source].

The name philharmonic was adopted by the Royal Philharmonic Society, which was established in London on 6th February 1813 by a group of thirty professional musicians. Its aims were to promote performances of instrumental music, and to build an orchestra, which initially played at the Argyll Rooms on Regent Street. Before then there were no permanent orchestras in London. After the Society was formed, other orchestras started to the word philharmonic to their names.

The word orchestra comes from the Greek ὀρχήστρα (orchistra), which was the area in front of the stage in an ancient Greek theatre reserved for the chorus, and comes from the word ὀρχοῦμαι (orkhoûmai – to dance).

The word symphony (an extended piece of music of sophisticated structure, usually for orchestra) comes from the Old French simphonie (musical harmony; stringed instrument), from Latin symphonia (harmony, symphony; a kind of musical instrument), from Ancient Greek συμφωνία (sumphōnía – symphony; a concert of vocal or instrumental music; music; band, orchestra; type of musical instrument), from σῠν- (sun – with, together) +‎ φωνή (phōnḗ – sound) [source].