Word of the day – rompre

rompre /ʁɔ̃pʁ/ verb = to break (up/off/with) / séparer en deux parties, briser, mettre en pièces

Examples of usage
En tombant de cheval, il s’est rompu le cou.
– he broke his leg neck falling off a horse

rompre ses chaînes
– to break one’s chains

tu nous romps la tête avec ta musique
– you’re deafening us with your music

ils ont rompu (leurs fiançailles)
– they’ve broken it off, they’ve broken off their engagement

il va se rompre les os / le cou
– he’s going to break his neck

As we haven’t had a French word of the day for a while, I thought it was time for one. To remember this word I think of someone romping around breaking things.

More nyms

The nym family has many offspring, including exonym and endonym, as discussed yesterday. Here are a few more of their unruly brood:

Homonyms
These are words that are pronounced the same, but are spelled differently and have different meanings. For example: write (to inscribe), right (correct/opposite of left), rite (ritual) and wright (a maker); night (opposite of day), knight (a chess piece). Many more English homonyms are listed here.

Heteronyms
Words spelled the same, but pronounced differently and having different meanings, e.g. bass (low) and bass (a type of fish); polish (to shine) and Polish (from Poland). Some heteronyms are distinguished by the placement of the stress, others by pronouncation. Polish/polish is also an example of a capitonym, a word that has a different meaning when capitalized.

Antagonyms/Contranyms
These are words with two meanings that contradict each other, such as assume: to actually have (to assume office) vs. to hope to have (he assumed he would be elected). Another example is custom (ordinary vs. special) — It was custom in these parts to have your boots custom made. More examples can be found here.

Anacronym
An acronym that is so well established that its origin as an abbreviation is no longer widely known (a portmanteau of anachronism + acronym), for example scuba and laser.

Ananym
A name written backward and used as a pseudonym.

Eponym
A word derived from the name of a person. For example the sandwich is named after John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich (1718–1792), and the word boycott comes from a certain 19th century Irish landlord, Charles C. Boycott (1832-1897).

Exonyms and endonyms

Peking is an example of an exonym, a name given to a place or group of people by foreigners. Other exonyms for places in China include Canton, Amoy, Macau and China itself. The endonyms or autonyms (native names) for these places are 广州 (Guǎngzhōu in Mandarin, Gwóngjàu in Cantonese); 厦门 (Xiàmén), 澳門 (Ngoumún) and 中国 (Zhōngguó).

English exonyms for countries in Europe include:

Croatia (Hrvatska), Finland (Suomi), Germany (Deutschland), Hungary (Magyarország), Poland (Polska), Spain (España), Sweden (Sverige) and Wales (Cymru)

English exonyms for cities in Europe include:

Copenhagen (København), Moscow (Москва/Moskva), Prague (Praha), Rome (Roma), The Hague (Den Haag), Munich (München), Cologne (Köln), Vienna (Wien) and Warsaw (Warszawa)

(the endonyms are shown in brackets)

Exonyms are used in other languages, of course, not just in English. For example, London is called Londres in French, Spanish and Portuguese, Londra in Italian and Romanian, Llundain in Welsh, Lunnain in Scottish Gaelic, ロンドン (rondon) in Japanese, and 倫敦 [伦敦] (Lúndūn) in Mandarin.

You can find the native names (endonym/autonyms) of all the countries of the world here and the native names of many languages here, and a good place to find both exonyms and endonyms of countries, cities, languages, etc. is www.geonames.de

The northern capital

Beijing in Chinese

The capital of the People’s Republic of China used to be known as Peking in English and many other languages. Since 1949 it’s been known as Beijing, which is often mispronounced: the J in jing is not pronounced /ʒ/ (/Z/) as in pleasure, but more like jing, as in jingle.

Or if you want to be strictly accurate, Beijing is pronounced /pei˨˩˦ tɕɪŋ˥˥/ (/pei_\_/ ts\iN_H/), the first syllable has a rising tone, and the second has a high level tone. Where the /ʒ/ (/Z/) pronunciation for the J comes from is a mystery to me. Any ideas anyone?

Peking is the Postal System Pinyin version of Beijing. Postal System Pinyin was introduced in Shanghai in 1906 and was based on a romanization system developed by French missionaries 400 years earlier when the Chinese word for capital, 京, was pronounced /iŋ/ (/k’iN/).

The literal meaning of Peking/Beijing is ‘Northern Capital’. There is also a Southern Capital, Nanjing (南京), and an Eastern Capital, Tōkyō (東京), which is Dongjing in Chinese. There is no Xijing (西京) or Eastern Capital though.

Between 1928 and 1949, Beijing was known as Beiping (北平) ‘Northern Peace’ in China because Nanjing was the capital for the Kuomintang government.

Another alternative name for Beijing is Yanjing (燕京), which refers to the State of Yan that existed during the Zhou dynasty (1022 – 256 BC).

Portmanteaux

photo of a portmanteau

A portmanteau is a large travelling bag or suitcase with two compartments. The word comes from the Middle French porter (to carry) and manteau (mantle). In modern French the word means coat rack.

A portmanteau word or portmanteau is one that fuses several grammatical inflections, or one that combines parts of two or more words. The first definition is the one used by linguists, who know portmanteaux of the second type as blends.

The term portmanteau was coined by Lewis Carroll and first appeared in his book, Through the Looking Glass, in 1871. When explaining the word slithy from Jabberwocky, Humpty Dumpty tells Alice that “Well, slithy means lithe and slimy … You see it’s like a portmanteau — there are two meanings packed up into one word.”

Other portmanteaux in English include brunch (breakfast + lunch), smog (smoke + fog), aquarobics (aqua – aerobics), infomercial (information + comercial), advertorial (advertisement + editorial), and of course blog (web + log).

An interesting portmanteau I came across today was snickanas (snickers + bananas) – a snack one of my friends invented.

Main source: Wikipedia

I think I’ll pass on the parsing

As children few of us know any grammatical terminology, yet we’re still able to speak grammatically. In school we might be taught the ‘grammar’ of our own language. Traditionally, in English-speaking countries at least, this has consisted mainly of parsing sentences – an exercise that involves labelling the parts of speech (noun, verb, adjective, etc). Recently though, there’s been a trend to avoid teaching any kind of grammar at all, at least in the UK.

Those taught to parse sentences seem keen to point out that many people ‘don’t know their grammar’ these days, with the implication that this is a bad thing. However, even people who don’t know, or are not sure of, the difference between nouns, adjectives, adverbs, etc. are able to cobble together grammatically correct sentences.

The origin of parsing sentences goes back to ancient Greece: the Greeks developed a description or grammar of their language in order to teach it to non-Greeks. The most famous Greek grammarian, Dionysius Thrax, established the idea of parts of speech, which he based on the ideas of Aristotle. In his Téchnē, written in the 2nd century BC, he stated that Greek had eight parts of speech: noun, verb, participle, article, pronoun, preposition, adverb and conjunction. Adjectives were a sub-class of nouns. To ‘know one’s grammar’ was essentially a matter of being able to parse sentences and name the parts of speech. Syntax was usually ignored.

The Greek model was copied by the Romans and adapted to Latin, a language different to Greek in many ways. The Latin model was later used for many other languages, few of which were much like Latin or Greek.

Were you taught grammar at school? How was it taught, and do you remember much of it?

Word of the day – gwlyb

gwlyb /’gulIb/, adjective = wet, dank, sloppy, liquid

gwlyb, ansoddair = gwleb, yn cynnwys hylif, llaith, wedi gwlychu, yn bwrw glaw

This is a lovely Welsh word that looks impossible to pronounce to non-Welsh speakers. It actually sounds something like goo-lib – both w and y are vowels in Welsh.

Related words
gwlypach, comparative – wetter
gwlypa(f), superlative – wettest
gwlybaniaeth, noun – moisture
gwlybwr, noun – liquid
gwlybyrog, adjective – wet, liquid
gwlychu, verb – to wet, soak, drench

Examples of usage:

oedd hi’n gwlyb y bore ma ym Mrighton
– it was wet in Brighton this morning (there was a big storm)

bydd hi’n wlypach o lawer yn y De nag yn y Gogledd
– it will be a lot wetter in the South than in the north

Language guessing

Whenever I hear an unfamiliar language, I try to guess which language it is, or least which language family it belongs to. I base my guesses not just on the language itself – the sounds, intontation and any words I recognise – but also on the appearance of the people speaking it, and the way they interact with one another.

There are currently many people from Eastern Europe in Brighton, particularly from Poland and the Czech Republic. As a result, I can usually identify a language as Slavic when I hear it, but can’t always work out which Slavic language it is.

Last week I met some people who were speaking a language I hadn’t heard before among themselves, and English with me. Judging by their appearance, I guessed that the language might be Hebrew or Arabic, though it didn’t sound like either. Yesterday I discovered that it was Farsi/Persian.

The lure of the unknown

Learning a language related to your mother tongue is generally less difficult than learning one that’s distantly related or completely unrelated. However, getting to grips with a language that’s very different to the ones you already know can be very interesting and exciting. Such languages can seem strange and exotic, and other people may be suprised, amazed and/or find it hard to believe that you’re studying them. Once you become more familiar with a language, the strangeness tends to diminish. Perhaps that’s when it’s time to have a go at a different, even stranger language.

What’s the most unusual language you’ve studied?

Addition: by ‘most unusual language’ I mean the language that’s most different from the ones you’re familiar with. For me it’s Chinese and Japanese – everything about them is different: the grammar, the pronunciation and especially the writing systems. This is one reason why I chose to study them at university rather than French or German, which don’t seem very exotic to me.