Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Do you know or can you guess the language, and do you know where (and when) it was spoken?
Cow Throwing
Yesterday I had my second dose of the Covid-19 vaccine (AstraZeneca), and feel just fine. So I thought I’d look at the origins of vaccine and related words.
Vaccine comes from the Latin word vaccīnus (of or derived from a cow), from vacca (cow), from the Proto-Indo-European *woḱéh₂ (cow) [source]. Why cows? Well, from 1796 to 1840, people were vaccinated against smallpox by being infect with cowpox (variola vaccīna), a much less serious virus – a procedure developed by Edward Jenner [source].
Some related words include:
immunisation / immunization = the process by which an individual is safely exposed in a controlled manner to a material that is designed to prime their immune system against that material. From the French immunisation. Coined by Albert Calmette (1863-1933), a French physician, bacteriologist and immunologist, who developed a vaccine against tuberculosis, and the first antivenom for snake venom [source]
inoculation = the introduction of an antigenic substance or vaccine into the body to produce immunity to a specific disease. From the Latin inoculātio (inoculation, ingrafting), from inoculō (I ingraft an eye or bud of one tree into another, inoculate, graft by budding, implant), from in- (in, within, inside) and oculus (eye) [source]
injection = the act of injecting, or something that is injected. From the Middle French injection, from Latin iniectio/injectiō (injection, inspiration, instillation), from iniciō (I throw, cast, hurl or place in), from in- (in, within, inside) and iaciō (throw, hurl) [source]
Language Quiz
Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Do you know or can you guess the language, and do you know where it’s spoken?
Idle blackberrying
While putting together a post on the Celtiadur this week, I came across the Welsh word mwyara [mʊɨ̯ˈara/mʊi̯ˈaːra], which means to gather/pick blackberries, to go blackberrying, and also to be idle. I wouldn’t associate picking blackberries with being idle, but someone must have done in the past. Is picking blackberries or other fruit associated with idleness in other languages?
Mwyara comes from mwyar (blackberries, berries), from the Proto-Brythonic *muɨar (blackberries, berries), from the Proto-Celtic *smiyoros (berries) [source].
Idle means to pass time doing nothing, to move, loiter or saunter aimlessy, or (of a machine or engine) to operate at a low speed [source]. It comes from the Middle English idel/ydel, from the Old English īdel (empty, void, bereft, worthless, useless, vain), from the Proto-Germanic *īdalaz (idle, void, unused), from the Proto-Indo-European *yeh₁- [source].
Words from the same root include the Dutch ijdel (vain, idle, petty) and iel (thin, slender), the German eitel (vain), and the Welsh iâl (clearing, glade) [source].
Sample Monsters
In Dutch the word monster [ˈmɔnstər] means a sample, and also a monster. It was borrowed from the Old French word monstre (monster) in the 13th century and at first meant a monster or monstrosity, and later in the 14th century came to mean a sample, specimen or test piece as well. It is also used to describe something very large [source].
The Old French word monstre came from the Latin mōnstrāre (to show), from mōnstrum (a divine omen indicating misfortune, an evil omen, portent; monster), from monēre (to warn, admonish). From the same root we get such English words as monster, muster, monitor, admonish [source], and also money, which is named after the Roman goddess Juno Moneta, whose temple in Rome housed the mint [source].
Here are some examples of how monster is used (from Duolingo and Reverso):
- We wegen het monster af = We weigh the sample (or monster)
- Hij neemt een monster van onze koeien = He takes a sample from our cows
- Een troebel monster moet worden gefiltreerd = When the sample is cloudy, it should be filtered
- Hier kon ik het monster aanroepen = It’s where I was told I could summon the monster
- Loch Ness is de perfecte bergplaats voor een prehistorisch monster = Loch Ness would be the perfect hiding place for a prehistoric monster
- Een driekoppig monster en vliegende schotels = A three-headed sea monster and some flying saucers
Some related words include:
- monsterlijk = monstrous(ly)
- monstergolf = monster wave, giant breaker, rogue
- monsterjacht = monster hunt(ing), monster yacht
- monsterjager = monster hunter
- monsterverbond = monstrous convenant, unholy alliance
- monsterzege = landslide (victory), monster victory
- zeemonster = sea monster
- bloedmonster = blood sample
Is monster, or something similar, used to mean something very big in other languages?
Language Quiz
Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Do you know or can you guess the language, and do you know where it’s spoken?
Blithely Blithesome
The Dutch word blij [blɛi] means happy, glad, pleased or delighted. It comes from the Middle Dutch blide (happy, cheerful, joyous), from the Old Dutch *blīthi (calm, happy), from the Proto-West Germanic *blīþī (happy), from the Proto-Germanic *blīþiz (serene, mild, pleasant, pleasing, delightful, friendly), from Proto-Indo-European *bʰlī- (light, fine, pleasant) from *bʰleh₁-/*bʰel- (to shine) [source].
Here are some related words and examples of how it’s used (from bab.la and Reverso):
- blijdschap = joy, gladness
- verblijden = to gladden, delight
- blij zijn = to be glad, rejoice, enjoy, be happy
- blij maken = to gladden, cheer up
- heel blij zijn = to burst with joy
- blij zijn met een dode mus = to get all excited about nothing (“to be happy with a dead mouse”)
- Ik ben blij dat je ervan zult genieten = I’m glad you’ll enjoy it
- Ik ben blij je eindelijk te ontmoeten = I’m pleased to finally meet you
- Niet iedereen zal hiermee blij zijn = Not everyone is going to be happy with this
Words from the same root include the Swedish word blid [bliːd] (mild, kind), the Danish word blid [ˈbliðˀ] (gentle) and the word blíður, which means kind, obliging, mild, tender, affable, friendly or good-natured in Icelandic, and hospitable, hearty, friendly, sincere, pleased, mild or smooth in Faroese [source].
The English word blithe [blaɪð / blaɪθ] also comes from the same root, via the Middle English blithe (glad, happy, joyful; gentle, mild; gracious, merciful; bright, shining; beautiful, fair), and the Old English bliþe [ˈbliː.θe/ˈbliː.ðe] (happy, gentle) (to shine) [source].
It means carefree and lighthearted, or very happy or cheerful, and also lacking or showing a lack of due concern, heedless, casual and indifferent [source].
It tends to be used in certain expressions, such as:
- He spoke with blithe ignorance of the true situation.
- She had a blithe disregard for their feelings.
Some related (and rarely-used) words include blitheful (joyous), blitheless (sorrowful, sad, pitiful, miserable, wretched), blithely (without care, concern or consideration; or in a joyful, carefree manner), blithen (to be(come) happy), and blithesome (happy or spriteful, carefree).
Blithe [bləið] is more commonly used in Scottish English and in Scots, and means joyous, cheerful, happy, glad or well-pleased. A related word, used particularly in Orkney and Shetland, is blithemeat, which is a thanksgiving feast after the birth of a child [source].
In Shetland blithe is written blyde and means glad. Here are the Blyde Lasses, a folk duo from Shetland:
Language Quiz
Other Worlds
When I put together a page about a language on Omniglot, I discover small parts of other worlds, as each language is a kind of world unto itself. As well as learning a little about the languages , I also learn about the people who speak them, the places they live and bits and pieces of history, politics, and other topics.
Today, for example, I put together a new page about Bassari (o-niyan), a Senegambian language spoken in parts of Senegal, Guinea and Guinea-Bissau. While doing this I found out about the language, how it’s written, the people who speak it, and the geography of these countries. I sort of knew where Senegal was, but couldn’t have reliably pointed to Guinea or Guinea-Bissau on a map, and didn’t know anything about them.
It may not be much, but I find these glimpses into other linguistic worlds very interesting, and this is one of the reasons why I enjoy working on Omniglot. Although I’ll probably never meet people who speak many of the languages I write about, or visit places where they’re spoken, at least I can know something about them and visit them virtually.
In other news, I have been thinking about making several different programmes under the umbrella of Radio Omniglot. So far I’ve been making one longish podcast more or less every month. Then a few months ago I started a new series – Adventures in Etymology – a weekly dive into the wonderful world of word origins.
Originally I made some audio versions of Omniglot blog posts, then I made them into videos. This took quite a bit of time, so I decided to make shorter ones more often. At first I posted them just on Instagram and Facebook, then I added them on YouTube and Radio Omniglot as well.
I have a few ideas for other short podcasts, such as Omniglot News, which would be about recent developments on Omniglot, and language-related news. Maybe I will also make something about Celtic words I find while putting together posts for my Celtiadur, and even some language-related comedy.
Do you have suggestions for topics I could cover on Radio Omniglot?
Language Quiz
Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Do you know or can you guess the language, and do you know where it’s spoken?