Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Do you know, or can you guess, the language?
Snub Nosed Simians
The other day I came across the word scimmia in my Italian lessons and wondered where it comes from. It’s rather unlike words for monkey in other Romance languages, such as mono in Spanish, macaco in Portuguese, maimuță in Romanian, and singe in French.
Scimmia [ˈʃim.mja] comes from Latin sīmia (ape, monkey, imitator), from sīmus (snub-nosed, flattened, splayed), from Ancient Greek σῑμός [siˈmos] (snub-nosed, flat nosed, steep, uphill, bent in, hollow, concave), the origins of which are uncertain [source].
Words from the same roots include simian (monkey-like, ape-like) in English, jimio [ˈxi.mjo] (ape) in Spanish, símio (ape, monkey, simian) in Portuguese, simi (simian) in Catalan, and singe (monkey, ape, foolish man) in French [source].
Related words and expressions in Italian include:
- scimmiesco = monkey-like, ape-like, simian
- scimmione = gorilla, ape, a clumsy and brutish person
- scimmiottare = to mock, make fun of, mimic, ape
- scimmiottamento = aping, mimicry
- scimmiotto = small or young money, friend, pal [source]
Incidentally, the origins of the English word monkey are uncertain. It may come from monk, or from Middle Low German Moneke, the name of the son of Martin the Ape in Reynard the Fox, a collection of medieval Dutch, English, French and German fables.
Or it may be related to the Late Middle French monne (monkey), from Italian monna (monkey), from Old Spanish mona (female monkey, from mamona, from maimón (a type of monkey with a prehensile tail), from Arabic مَيْمُون (maymūn – baboon, mandrill). Mono in Spanish comes from the same roots, as does maimuță in Romanian [source].
Mushrooms Hats
An interesting Spanish word I learnt recently is hongo [ˈonɡo], which means fungus, fungal growth, mushroom, toadstool, bowler hat and derby. As this appears very different to words for mushroom in other Romance languages, such as champignon in French, I wondered where it came from.
Hongo comes from Old Spanish fongo (mushroom), from Latin fungus (mushroom, fungus, fungal infection, candle-snuff, dolt, idiot), from sfungus, from Ancient Greek σπόγγος (spóngos – spongue, tonsil), the origins of which are unknown [source].
Words from the same roots include sfungjer (sponge) in Albanian, սպունգ [spunɡ] (sponge) in Armenian, sponge in English, spugna (sponge, drunkard) in Italian, and сунѓер [ˈsuɲɟɛr] (sponge) in Macedonian [source].
Related words and expressions in Spanish include:
- hongo venenoso = toadstool
- nube de hongo = mushroom cloud
- sombrero hongo = bowler hat [source]
- valer hongo = worthless – colloquial, vulgar – used in Chile [source]
Other words from mushroom in Spanish include:
- champiñón, which means (button) mushroom, fungus or mold, and was borrowed from French champignon (mushroom, fungus) [source]
- seta, which is used in Latin America to mean mushroom, and possibly comes from Ancient Greek σηπτά (septá – lost things), from σηπτός (septos) [source]
- callampa = mushroom or umbrella, and in the plural, callampas, shanty town. It’s used in Bolivia, Chile, Ecuador and Peru, and comes from Quechua qallampa or Aymara qallampa [source]
The French word champignon (mushroom, fungus, fungal infection, accelerator pedal), comes from Vulgar Latin *campāniolus (mushroom, lit. ‘grows in the field’), from Late Latin campāneus (of or pertaining to the fields), from Latin campānia (plain, countryside surrounding a city, cultivatable land), from campus (open flat level ground, a plain, a natural field), from Proto-Indo-European *kh₂ém-po-s, from *kh₂emp- (to bend, curve, smooth) [source].
Incidentally, the English word mushroom comes from Middle English muscheron (mushroom, fungus, toadstool, a surname), from Anglo-Norman musherum, from Old French mousseron / moisseron (mushroom), possibly from Old French mosse/moise (moss) [source].
Language Quiz
Battering Down the Door
Yesterday I learnt that a French word for door knocker is heurtoir. I wondered if this is related to the English word hurt. Let’s find out.
Heutoir [œʁ.twaʁ] means door-knocker, knocker, (rail) buffer or bumper. It comes from heurter (to hit, collide with, upset, clash, strike, knock), from Middle French heurter, from Old French hurter (to ram into, strike, collide with), from Frankish *hūrt (a battering ram), from Proto-Germanic *hrūtaną, *hreutaną (to fall, fly, move quickly), from Proto-Indo-European *krew- (to fall, beat, smash, strike, break) [source].
Related words and expressions in French include:
- heurt [œʁ] = collision, bump, clash
- sans heurts = smoothly
- heurté = jerky, uneven
- heurter de plein fouet = to crash headlong
- heurter qn de front = to clash head-on with sb
- s’heurter (à) = to collide, crash into, bump, bang into, come up against
- entreheurter = to hit one another [source]
Words from the same Proto-Germanic roots include rout (to beat, strike, assail) in Scots, hrjóta (to snore) in Icelandic, and aürtar (to knock, bump against) in Catalan [source].
So where does the English word hurt come from?
It comes from Middle English hurten (to injure, wound hurt), from Old Northern French hurter (to ram into, strike, collide with), either from Frankish *hūrt (a battering ram), or from Old Norse hrútr (ram [male sheep]), from hjǫrtr (stag), from Proto-Germanic *herutuz (hart, male deer), which is related to the English word hart (a male deer) [source].
So heurtoir and hurt might be related, but we can’t be sure.
Language Quiz
What’s that noise?
Did you know that the Italian word rumore doesn’t mean rumo(u)r, as you might expect, but rather noise, rumble, sound or clatter. Is it connected to the English word rumo(u)r? Let’s find out.
Rumore comes from Latin rūmōrem (vague noises, rumours), from rūmor (rumo(u)r), hearsay, gossip, rustle, murmur, a murmuring, the voice of the people), from Proto-Italic *roumōs, from Proto-Indo-European *h₃rewH- (to shout, to roar) [source]. A related word in Latin is rūmusculus (idle gossip) [source].
Related words and expressions in Italian include:
- rumoreggiare = to rumble, clamo(u)r
- rumoreggiare = to rumble, clamo(u)r
- rumorista = noisemaker, foley artist
- rumoroso = noisy, loud
- rumorosamente = noisily
- antirumore = anti-noise, soundproof, noise-cancelling, noise-reducing
- un rumore sordo = a thud
- rumore bianco = white noise
- rumore di sottofondo = background noise
- la notizia ha fatto molto rumore = the news aroused great interest [source]
Words from the same Latin roots include rumoer (rumo(u)r, noise) in Dutch, rumo(u)r in English, rumeur (rumo(u)r) in French, rumur (rumo(u)r, continuous noise) in Portuguese, and rumor (rumo(u)r, murmur) in Spanish [source].
Words from the same PIE roots include řvát (to yell, roar) in Czech, реветь [rʲɪˈvʲetʲ] (to roar, bellow, howl, cry, weep) in Russian, and possibly ωρύομαι [oˈri.o.me] (to howl) in Greek, and rāvis (hoarseness) in Latvian [source].
So the English word rumo(u)r is related. It means “A statement or claim of questionable accuracy, from no known reliable source, usually spread by word of mouth.” or “Information or misinformation of the kind contained in such claims.”. It used to mean a report, new, information in general, fame, reputation, clamour, din or outcry [source].
It comes from Middle English rumour (rumour, gossip, hearsay; a report, tidings, news; loud shouting, noise, din; outcry of protest or disapproval; a disturbance, stir, tumult) [source], from Old French rimur (noise [produced by an army on the march]), from Latin rūmōrem [source].
In Old English, the word hlýd meant rumo(u)r or the noise made in discussing an event [source], and also noise, sound, tumult, disturbance or dissension. Another word for rumour was hlísa, which also meant sound, fame or glory [source].
Language Quiz
Doorgetting
Do you ever walk into a room and forget why you’re there? Or have you ever opened the fridge or a cupboard and couldn’t remember what you were looking for?
This is a common phenomenon known as the Doorway Effect or location updating effect and can occur when you’re thinking about or trying to remember too many things, get distracted, and particularly when you move from one location to another that differs significantly. This apparently primes our minds to receive something new. So if you want to avoid this effect, it’s best to keep whatever you need to remember at front of your mind.
This morning, for example, I put my laundry in the washing machine, then forgot to start it. I did remember later, but before then, I got distracted preparing my breakfast. It’s time to hang up the laundry now. I’ll be right back, unless I get distracted and start doing something else, which is quite likely.
Right, where was I? I did get distracted and did some lessons on Duolingo (2,600 days today, by the way), Anyway, sometimes I put bread in the toaster, or a pan on the cooker, and forget to turn them on. These memory lapses aren’t the result of going through doors into other rooms, or passing through portals, but they involve thinking and doing too many things and getting distracted.
I came up with an alternative name for this effect today – doorgetting, a portmanteau of door and forgetting, inspired by a video on TikTok by Jess Zefarris about Words for Things That Don’t Have names. These are also known as word fugitives, a term coined by Barbara Wallraff, an author and editor at The Atlantic Monthly, or sniglets – any word that doesn’t appear in the dictionary, but should – coined by American comedian Rich Hall. If they don’t enter into common usage, they are also known as occasionalisms, protologisms or nonce words.
An example she gives is serenquipity, for when you accidentally say something witty and quotable, or in other words, come up with a serendipitious quip. Another is pandephonium, for the confusion experienced when a phone rings and no one nearby is sure if it is theirs.
More on this phenomenon:
https://www.sciencealert.com/scientists-find-the-doorway-effect-could-be-real-but-only-in-overloaded-brains
https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20160307-why-does-walking-through-doorways-make-us-forget
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-walking-through-doorway-makes-you-forget/
https://www.livescience.com/17132-forget-walked-room-doorways-blame-study-finds.html
Here’s a song I wrote about this some years ago called What Did I Come In Here For?:
What did I come in here for?
Something important I’m sure
Something to fetch or find
Oh what did I come in here for?
What did I come in here for?
I forgot as I came through the door
I cannot remember, I cannot recall
Oh what did I come in here for?
What did I come in here for?
This has happened at times before
I need a clue to get out of this stew
Oh what did I come in here for?
What did I come in here for?
What did I come in here for?
Just let me think and I’ll get it
Ah, that’s what I came in here for