Category: Words and phrases

Stalls, stinkards and parterres

By Simon

In theatres in the UK the seats at ground level in front of the stage are usually known as stalls or orchestra stalls. If there are balconies above that level, the first balcony might be known as the dress circle, grand circle or balcony, the second as the upper circle, grand circle, first circle or circle, the third as the upper circle or gallery, and the fourth as the gallery. There may also be private boxes along the sides of the theatre. The exact terms vary from theatre to theatre.

In French the stalls are known as l’orchestre, les fauteuils d’orchestre or le parterre, the first level balcony might be le balcon, the second level balcony might be la galerie, and the third level might be le paradis (paradise) – ‘the gods’ is sometimes used for the highest level of balconies in English. Boxes are les loges.

A parterre in English is a “a formal garden constructed on a level surface, consisting of planting beds, typically in symmetrical patterns, separated and connected by gravel pathways.” [source]. Parterre can also refer to the ground level part of a theatre (stalls) and the audiences who congregate there. The word pit is also used [source]. The denizens of the pit or yard in Shakespeare’s Globe theatre were known as a groundlings, stinkards or penny-stinkers [source].

The French word parterre has also been borrowed into Russian as партер and is used to refer to the stalls in a theatre.

What terms are used in theatres you go to?

Dystopias and Utopias

By Simon

Why is it that so many films and novels set in the future are dystopian?

I thought about this after watching The Hunger Games last night, and tried to think of any stories of utopian futures. The only films I could think featuring non-dystopian futures of were Back to the Future II and Bicentennial Man. Can you think of any others?

The word dystopia combines the Ancient Greek δυσ (dus – bad), and τόπος ‎(tópos – place, region) with the Latin/Ancient Greek suffix ia/ία ‎(-ía). It was derived from the word utopia, which was coined by Thomas More for his 1516 book Utopia. The u part of utopia comes from the Greek ou (οὐ – not) and by the 17th century was used to refer to a place or society that was considered perfect or ideal. The prefix ou possibly got confused with εὖ ‎(eû, – well, good). Dystopia was first used by J. S. Mill in a parliamentary speech in 1868 [source].

Matignon and other metonyms

By Simon

Last night I discovered that the French equivalent of “Number 10”, which in the UK refers to the British Prime Minister, is Matignon or L’Hôtel de Matignon, the official residence of the French Prime Minister.

Number 10 is shorthand for Number 10 Downing Street, is the official residence and office of the British Prime Minister, and the headquarters of the executive branch of the British Government. The British Government is also referred to as “Westminster”, from the Palace of Westminster where the British Parliament meets.

The Scottish Parliament is informally referred as “Holyrood” – named after the area of Edinburgh where it meets, while in Northern Irish Assembly is referred as “Stormont”, after the Stormont Estate where the main government buildings are. Stormont comes from the Stoirmhonadh, (place for crossing the mountains) and is named after a district in Perthshire in Scotland. The National Assembly of Wales / Cynulliad Cenedlaethol Cymru is referred to as the Assembly in English, and y Cynulliad or y Senedd (the Senate) in Welsh. I don’t know of any particular metonyms for it.

Using the name of a place or building to refer to an institution or other organisation is known as metonymy, from the Greek μετωνυμία (metōnymía) – a change of name. Other examples include using Hollywood to refer to the US film industry, and Silicon Valley to refer to the US high-tech sector.

Are metonyms used to refer to governments, prime ministers, or other government institutions in other countries?

Flan cupboards

By Simon

A Welsh plygain song I’ve been learning recently with some friends (Carol y Swper) features the word fflangell in the line “Ein Meichiau a’n Meddyg dan fflangell Iddweig”.

We weren’t sure what it meant at first, and guessed that it was some kind of container for a flan or a flan cupboard. A fflan is a flan, and cell means cell or bower, and in compound words can mean a container or building. For example oergell (cold cell) is a fridge, rhewgell (frost/ice cell) is a freezer, and llyfrgell (book cell) is a library.

So we thought the line meant something like “Our arms and doctor under the Jewish flan cupboard.” Hilarity ensued. It actually means “Our Surety and Healer under the Jewish scourge.”

You can hear the whole song at:

We will be singing in a plygain service in Bangor cathedral starting at 7pm on Friday 15th January as Parti Min Menai.

Do you have any examples of mistranslated or misheard song lyrics?

Big fun!

By Simon

A friend of mine who is learning Welsh likes to translate Welsh expressions literally and then use them in English. One Welsh equivalent of goodbye is hwyl fawr [hʊɨl vaur], which he translates as “big fun”, which sounds quite funny in English. Do any other languages have a phrase used when parting that has a similar meaning?

The Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru explains hwyl fawr as “a valediction, roughly equivalent to ‘All the best!’, or ‘Cheers!’. Which should not be confused with yr hwyl fawr, which is ‘the principal sail of a ship, mail-sail or main-sheet.’

hwyl can also mean:
– sail (of ship, windmill, etc), sheet, covering, pall
– journey, progress, revolution, orbit, course, route, career, rush, assault, attack
– healthy physical or mental condition, good form, one’s right senses, wits; tune (of musical instrument); temper, mood, frame of mind; nature disposition; fervour, ecstasy, gusto, zest
– merry-making, hilarity, jollity, mirth, gaiety, amusement, fun, humour

Some expressions featuring hwyl include:
– am hwyl = for fun, by way of a joke
– hwyl dda = fine state of health; good spirits, good mood
– hwyl ddrwg = physical indisposition; bad mood
– cael hwyl = to have fun, enjoy oneself, make good progress
– cael hwyl am ben (rhywun) = to make fun of (someone)
– pob hwyl = similar to hwyl fawr

Do you use literal translations of foreign expressions in your own language like this?

Why Weihnachten?

By Simon

Have you every wondered where the German word for Christmas, Weihnachten, comes from? I have, as it is so different from words for Christmas in other European languages. So I decided to investigate.

Weihnachten comes from the Middle High German wīhenahten ‎(Christmas), from a dative plural ze den wīhen nahten ‎(in the holy nights). The oldest form (1170) is a singular diu wīhe naht (the Holy Night). It came to refer to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day collectively somewhat later.

Source: Wiktionary

Another source states that Weihnachten first appeared as ze wîhen naht in a song by the minstrel Spervogel, who lived in the 12th Century: “Er ist gewaltic unde starc (…) der ze wîhen naht gebórn wárt. (…) daz ist der heilige Krist, (…) jâ lobt in allez, daz dir ist”. It is perhaps a translation of the Latin nox sancta.

More about German Christmas vocabulary and traditions:
http://marathonsprachen.com/christmas-vocabulary-wortschatz-zur-weihnachten/

That’s enough!

By Simon

The Russian word всё (vsjo) [fsʲo] is a useful one that can mean various things depending on the context: everything, still, always, all the time, nevertheless.

Here are some examples:

– Вот и всё; Это всё = that’s all
– Мне всё равно = it’s all the same to me
– Я всё равно пойду туда = I’ll go there all the same
– Всё? Да, это всё = Have you got everything? Yes, that’s everything
– Всё хорошо = Everything’s fine
– всё же = all the same
– всё ещё = still
– Мне всё мало = I just can’t get enough
– а всё-таки = all the same, nevertheless

One handy tip I got from the Russian Made Easy podcasts is that when learning a new word that has a variety of meanings, like всё, it’s hard to grasp all it’s nuances straight away. Instead your understanding of what a word means and how it’s used builds up over time the more you hear it, see it and use it.

Sources: Reverso, Russian Made Easy, The Oxford Russian Dictionary

Ditties, dictation and digits

By Simon

A ditty is a short, simple song, like the ones I write. It comes from the Old French dite (composition), from the Latin dictatum (something dictated), from dictare (to dictate), a frequentative of dicere (to say, speak), which is related to dicare (to proclaim, dedicate), from the Proto-Indo-European root *deik- (to point out).

Some English words that come from the same root include dictate, diction, and digit, which came to be related to numbers as a result of counting on fingers. Other words that developed from this root include the Latin digitus (finger), the German zeigen, the Greek δίκη [díkê] (custom, right, judgement), and quite a few more.

The word teach also comes from the *deik-, via the Old English tæcan (to show, point out, declare, demonstrate; to give instruction, train, assign, direct; warn; persuade), from the Proto-Germanic *taikijan (to show).

Source: Online Etymology Dictionary, Oxford Dictionaries and the Indo-European Lexicon.

Large vocabulary? Do you know how to use it?

By Simon

A lot of language learning approaches I’ve read and heard about focus on learning as much vocabulary as possible, and not worrying too much about grammar, at least at first. For example you might focus on learning the most commonly-used phrases and words, and on using them at every opportunity. Later on you might learn a bit of grammar.

In the Russian lesson I listened to today, the tip of the day is to focus on learning a relatively small amount of vocabulary and learning how to use it in a variety of contexts, rather than learning a lot of vocabulary, and then not being able to use it very well. Once you can use the words you know grammatically, it’s not so difficult to add more vocabulary.

In another lesson in this course the presenter suggests that learning grammar from books and tables isn’t very effective, and that it’s best to learn it from lots of examples and exercises which focus on real colloquial language.

I’m finding the course very useful and like this approach. It introduces various aspects of Russian grammar gradually and gives you plenty of opportunities to practise using them.

What are your thoughts on this?

Stuckies, pleeps and doos

By Simon

I came across some interesting Scots words in a TED talk today which I hadn’t heard before – stuckies, pleeps and doos.

What do you think they mean?

Clue: they’re types of bird.

In the talk the presenter, a native speaker of Scots, explains how he was told from his first day at school that many of the words he was using were wrong, and that it was the same story for many other children. They have to learn ‘proper’ English words. He talks about how Scots has been marginalised and replaced by a version of English spoken with a Scottish accent known as Attic or Scottish English. He explains how words in Scots have much richer associations in his brain than their English equivalents.

Here’s the talk:

How much can you understand?

Answers
A stuckie is a starling, a pleep is an oyster catcher, and a doo is a dove.