Bittersweet

Chutney

When looking for the French word for chutney last night we discovered the word aigre (sour), and realised that vinegar, or vinaigre in French, must be wine (vin) that is sour (aigre). This is indeed the origin of vinegar and vinaigre.

Vin (wine) comes from the Latin vīnum (wine, grapes, grapevine), from Proto-Italic *wīnom (wine), from Proto-Indo-European *wóyh₁nom (wine).

Aigre (sour, sharp, acid, shrill) comes from the Old French, from Vulgar Latin *acrus / *acrum, from the Classical Latin acer / acrem (sharp, sour, bitter), from Proto-Italic *akris (sharp, sour), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂ḱrós (sharp).

Chutney is a sauce made from fruit and/or vegetables preserved with vinegar and sugar. The word comes from the Hindi चटनी (catnī / chatnee – to lick). In French it is chutney, épice or salade piquante, and is defined as “condiment aigre-doux” (bittersweet condiment), which is where I found the word aigre.

Sitting in a session

If someone said to you, “It was a good session last night”, what would you understand by that?

In my world a session involves people gathering together, usually in a pub, to play folk music, sing, and sometimes to dance and/or tell stories.

Other kinds of sessions are available: jam sessions, parliamentary sessions, training sessions, drinking sessions, recording sessions, and so on.

The word session comes from the Old French session (sitting; session [of a court or committee]), from the Latin sessiō (a sitting), from sedeō (sit), from the Proto-Italic *sedēō (sit, be sitting, be seated), from the Proto-Indo-European *sed- (to sit), which is also the root of the English word saddle [source].

I go to several folk music sessions a week, and usually play the mandolin, and occasionally the whistle, bodhrán or cavaquinho. I also go to a ukulele session. In some sessions we play Irish or Welsh music, in others we play music and sing songs from many countries. We also play tunes we have written ourselves, including some of my own tunes.

I’ve learnt many tunes from these sessions. Some I can pick up by ear after hearing them a few times, others I record and learn at home. I find it easier to learn a tune if I’ve heard it many times, though some are harder to learn than others as they are in unusual keys, and/or don’t go where you expect.

Similarly, when learning new words in foreign tongues, the ones that are easiest to learn are the ones that sound familar. Maybe I’ve heard them many times, and/or they’re similar to words I already know. Words that contain unfamiliar sounds and combinations of sounds take more learning, just as tunes in unfamiliar keys and/or containing unusual combinations of notes can take longer to learn.

Sometimes the versions of tunes I know are a bit different to the ones known by my fellow musicians. This is a bit like hearing a language spoken with a different accent, or in a different dialect – it may seem strange at first, but you get used to it the more you hear it.

Last night I went to a Welsh music session in the Globe Inn (Tafarn y Glôb) in Bangor. Here’s one of the tunes that was played (Y Derwydd – The Druid):

Gloopy!

An interesting Russian word I learnt this week is глупый (glupyj) [ˈɡlupɨj], which means silly, stupid, foolish or inane, but sounds like one of the seven dwarfs.

The Russian name for the dwarf dopey is actually Простак (Prostak), which means simpleton.

Глупый comes from the Proto-Slavic *glupъ (stupid, foolish), which possibly comes from a Germanic source. Cognates in Germanic languages include glópr (idiot) in Old Norse, and glópur (fool, idiot) in Icelandic.

Cognates in Slavic languages include:

– Bulgarian глупав (glupav) = stupid, silly, foolish, fool, unwise, sappy
– Croatian glup = stupid, dumb, silly, dull, brainless, dense
– Serbian глуп = stupid, dumb, silly, dull, dense, obtuse
– Slovene glúp = dumb, stupid, moronic
– Slovak hlúpy = stupid, silly, foolish
– Czech hloupý = stupid, silly, foolish

A related word in Russian is тупой (typoj) [tʊˈpoj], which means ‘dull, blunt; obtuse; dull, stupid’. It comes from the Old East Slavic тупъ (tupŭ), from Proto-Slavic *tǫpъ, and sounds like the Welsh word twp [tʊp], which means stupid. Is there any connection?

The word stupid comes from the Middle French stupide (stupid), from the Latin stupidus (struck senseless, amazed), from stupeō (to be amazed or confounded, to be struck senseless), from the Proto-Indo-European *(s)tup- / *(s)tewp- (to wonder), from *(s)tu- (to stand, stay).

I thought I’d made up the word gloopy, but it does exist, and means ‘Having a glutinous, sloppy consistency’.

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

Ounces, drams and pennyweights

Weighing scales

How many drams are there in an ounce?

If you are familiar with the British Imperial System of measurement, you might know that there are 16 drams (dr) to an ounce (oz), and 16oz to a pound (lb).

There is an even smaller unit, the grain: there are 27.344 grains to a dram, 437.5 to an ounce, and 7,000 to a pound.

I knew about pounds and ounces, but hadn’t come across drams before, except as a Scottish word for a measure of whisky. Grains are also new to me as a unit of measurement.

When talking about weight, particularly people’s weight, using the imperial system, the stone is used, at least in the UK (1 stone = 14 pounds). For example, you might weigh 9 stone 7 (pounds). In the USA you would say 133 pounds, and in metric it would be 60.3kg. So if you want to weigh less, just give your weight in stones and pounds.

The next unit after the stone is hundredweight (cwt). In the UK a (long) hundredweight = 112 pounds, and in the US a (short) hundredweight = 100 pounds. Then there are 20cwt in a ton, so a UK (long) ton 2,240 pounds (160 stone), and a US (short) ton is 2,000 pounds.

The above are known as avoirdupois measurements. To weigh precious metals, troy units are used: 1 pound = 12 ounces. 1 ounce = 20 pennyweight. 1 pennyweight = 24 grains. Slightly simpler, but still more complex than the metric system.

Avoirdupois comes from the Old French avoir + du + pois (good of weight)

Troy comes from Anglo-Norman via the Middle English troye, and is possibly named after Troyes, a town in France where such weights were first used.

Pound comes from the Old English pund (a pound, weight), from the Proto-Germanic *pundą (pound, weight), from the Latin pondō (by weight), the ablative form of pondus (weight), from the Proto-Indo-European *pend-, *spend- (to pull, stretch).

Ounce comes from the Middle French once (ounce, a little bit), from the Latin uncia (1/12 part), from ūnus (one).

Dram comes from the Old French dragme, from the Late Latin dragma, from the Ancient Greek δραχμή (drakhmḗ – unit of weight, a handful), from δράσσομαι (drássomai – I hold, seize).

Source: Wiktionary

Thanks for Ellen Jovin for inspiring this post.

Ambling Along

Walking stick figure

An Icelandic word I learnt recently is (að) labba [ˈlapːa], which means ‘to walk slowly, to amble, to stroll’ [source].

Here are a few examples of usage:

  • Mér finnst gaman að labba um bæinn = I like to stroll around town
  • Ljúft finnst mér að labba á pöbbinn = I like to walk to the pub [source]
  • Ég labba ein heim eftir myrkur = I walk home alone after dark [source]

Other Icelandic words meaning to walk include:

að ganga [að ˈkauŋka] = to walk, go on foot, to climb; to move, run, go; to go around, be passed on [source].

Here are some examples:

  • að ganga á fjall = to climb a mountain
  • vagninn gengur á 20 mínútna fresti = the bus runs every 20 minutes
  • klukkan gengur = the clock is going
  • vélin gengur vel = the machine is running well
  • sagan gengur = the story is going about
  • þetta gengur vel = this is coming along fine
  • þetta gengur ekki = this won’t work, this won’t do
  • hvað gengur á? = what’s going on?

This word comes from the Old Norse ganga (to go, walk), from the Proto-Germanic *ganganą (to go, walk, step), from the Proto-Indo-European *ǵʰengʰ- (to walk, step) [source]. This is also the root of the Old English words gangan (to go, walk, turn out) and gang (a journey; way; passage), which is used in some northern dialects of English to mean to go – e.g. in Geordie gan yem = go home [source]. It’s modern meaning of a group of people probably comes from the idea of people travelling (ganging) together [source].

að troða [að ˈtʰrɔːða] = to trample, tread on, step on; to tread, walk; to stuff, fill, pack; to press forward, elbow one’s way [source].

This word comes from the Old Norse troða (to tread, walk), from the Proto-Germanic *trudaną (to tread, step on), which is also the root of the English words tread and trot.

að rölta [að ˈrœlta] = to stroll, saunter [source].

Incidentally, the English word amble comes from the Old French ambler (to walk as a horse does), from the Old Provençal amblar, from Latin ambulō (I walk) [source], and stroll comes from the German strollen, a variant of the Alemannic German strolchen, from Strolch (vagabond; rascal) [source].

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?

A Telling Chat

In interesting word I learnt recently in Icelandic is spjall [ˈspjatl̥], which means chat, converstation, talk or gossip.

It comes from the Old Norse spjall [ˈspjɑlː] (saying, tale, words, tales, tidings); from Proto-Germanic *spellą (news, message, tale, story), from the Proto-Indo-European *spel- (to tell).

A related word is spjalla, which means ‘to converse, to chat’. You could use it like this, I think,

– Ég er að spjalla á íslensku = I am chatting in Icelandic.

The Proto-Indo-European *spel- is also the root of the English word spell, the German -spiel in Beispiel (example – literally “by talk”) There were similar words in Old English: bīspel (proverb, pattern, example), and Scots: byspel (byword, rarety, outcast).

The German word spielen comes from a different root: the Proto-Germanic *spilōną (to play, to dance, to move), from *spilą (game, play, dance).

Icelandic words with related meanings include:

tal = speech, conversation
tala = to talk, to speak
talmál = spoken language
talsháttur = phrase, idiom
talsmaður = advocte, spokesperson
talsmát = manner of speaking, expression
ræða = speech, address; to speak, talk, discuss
ræðinn = talkative

Sources: Wiktionary, Íslensk – ensk orðabók / Concise Icelandic – English Dictionary

Orkar du?

A useful Swedish expression I learnt recently is Orkar du?, which can mean “Do you have the energy?”, “Can you be bothered?” or similar.

It doesn’t mean “Are you a killer whale (orca)?”, as I thought it did when I first heard it.

Orkar is the present tense of orka [ˈɔrˌka], which means to manage, to be able to, to cope with, or can. It is used in Icelandic and Faroese as well. It comes from the Old Norse orka, from Proto-Germanic *wurkijaną (to work, to make), from Proto-Indo-European *wṛǵ- (to make), which is also the root of the English word work.

Here are a few examples of how it’s used:

– så mycket de orkar bära = as much as they can bear
– ät-så-mycket-du-orkar = all-you-can-eat
– Jag orkar inte = I can’t be bothered
– Jag orkar inte med tanken på att förlora de små skatterna = I can’t stand the thought of losing my little treasures.
– Hur ofta hör vi inte att människor inte orkar bry sig? = How often do we hear that people just don’t care?
– Jag orkar inte med detta längre. = I can’t take this anymore

A related word is ork, which means energy.

Sources: Linguee, bab.la and Wiktionary

C’est inouï !

inOUi logo

The French exclamation C’est inouï ! means “It’s incredible!”.

The word inouï [inwi] means unprecedented, incredible, unheard-of, extraordinary, amazing. It is a combination of the negative prefix in- and ouï, which comes from ouïr (to hear, to listen), from the Old French oir (to hear, listen), from Latin audiō (I hear, listen, pay attention), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂ew-is-d-, a compound of *h₂ewis (clearly, manifestly) and *dʰh₁-ye/o- (to render) [source].

A friend told me last week that the TGV (le train à grande vitesse), France’s high-speed rail service, is being rebranded the inOui. In fact, inOui is the new name, introduced in 2017, for certain premium services on the TGV. All premium services will be known as inOUi by 2020. The name Ouigo was introduced for discount TGV services in 2013 [source].

The name inOui has been mocked and criticised by many.

Ouigo works in English as well (We go), but I’m sure English speakers will be joking about inOui, if they aren’t already.