Category: English

Different ways of knowing

By Simon

In English you could say that you know a person, a place, a language or a fact. You could also talking about knowing about things, knowing of people, knowing how to do things, knowing hardship, knowing what’s what, knowing the ropes, and so on.

In Welsh to say you know a person or place you use adnabod or nabod. For exmple Dw i’n ei nabod nhw yn dda (I know them well), Wyt ti’n nabod Caerdydd? (Do you know Cardiff?).

When talking about knowing a fact you use gwybod. For example, Mae hi’n gwybod popeth (She knows everything), Dan ni’n gwybod tipyn bach am weu (We know a little about knitting).

In some cases you can use nabod and gwybod to show how well you know something. If you say Dw i’n nabod y gân ‘ma (I know this song), you mean that you are familiar with it, but can’t necessarily sing it. If you say Dw i’n gwybod y gân ‘ma it means you it well.

There are quite a few ways to say ‘I don’t know’ in Welsh: Dydw i ddim yn gwybod, Dw i ddim yn gwybod, Dwi’m gwybod, Sa i’n gwybod, Wn i ddim, ‘Dwn i ddim, and apparently in Bala they saw Wmbo.

To know how to do something is also medru, e.g. Mae o’n medru darllen (He can/knows how to read), and to not know how to do something is methu, e.g Dw i’n methu siarad Basceg eto (I can’t / don’t know how to speak Basque yet), at least in North Wales. In South Wales they say Mae e’n gallu darllen and Dw i ddim gallu siarad Basceg eto.

Irish equivalents of the above Welsh examples are:

– Tá aithne maith agam acu = I know them well
– An bhfuil tú eolach ar Chaerdydd? = Do you know Cardiff?
– Tá a fhios aici gach rud = She knows everything
– Tá beagán eolas againn faoi chniotáil = We know a little about knitting
– Tá a fhios agam an t-amhrán seo = I know (of) this song
– Tá an amhráin seo ar eolas agam = I know this song (well)
– Níl a fhios agam = I don’t know
– Is féidir leis léamh = He can read
– Níl Bascais agam go fóill / Níl mé abalta Bascais a labhairt go fóill / Ní féídir liom Bascais a labhairt go fóill = I don’t / can’t speak Basque yet

The other Celtic languages have various ways to express knowing, as do quite a few other languages, such as French, Spanish, German, etc.

Incidentally, when asked which languages you ‘know’? How do you answer? At what level would you say that you ‘know’ a language?

Sources: Geiriadur Yr Academi, WordReference.com, Reverso, fócloir.ie

Corrections are always welcome if I’ve made any mistakes.

Kiev, Kyiv or Kyjev?

By Simon

I’ve received several emails from people telling me that the capital of Ukraine, Київ, should be written Kyiv in English, and not Kiev. So I thought I’d look into the history of the name.

Kiev, or Kyiv, is named after one of its legendary founders, Кий (Kyi). It was originally written Къıєвъ in Cyrillic. This was transliterated as Kyjev in the Latin alphabet.

On early maps of the region, Kiev was variously written Kiou, Kiow, Kiew, Kiovia or Kiiow. The name Kiev, based on the Russian pronounciation, started to be used while Kiev was part of the Russian Empire (from 1708), and was first used in print in English in 1804. It has also been written Kyyiv and Kyjiv.

According to the Ukrainian government’s rules for the transliteration of geographic names into English, Київ is translierated as Kyiv. This spelling has been used in all official English language documents in Ukraine since 1995, and has been adopted by the UN and other international organisations.

How is this name written in other languages?

Source: Wikipedia

Beards and chins

By Simon

Illustration of a beard

One of the Romanian lessons I did today was about parts of the body. One word that came up was bărbie [bərˈbi.e], which I guessed meant beard, but actually means chin. I suppose beards usually grow on chins, so this isn’t too surprising.

Bărbie comes from the Vulgar Latin *barbilia, from the Latin barba (beard; wool; down on a plant). Or from the Romanian barbă (beard) +‎ -ie (a noun suffix) [source].

In Spanish chin is barbilla [barˈβiʎa] – barba (beard) with a diminutive suffix, so it could be translated as “little beard” [source].

The English word beard comes from the Middle English berd, bard, bærd, from the Old English beard, from Proto-Germanic *bardaz, from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰardʰeh₂, all of which mean beard. The PIE word *bʰardʰeh₂ is also the root of words for beard in Germanic, Slavic, Romance and Iranian languages [source], and in Welsh (barf) Cornish (barv) and Breton (barv) [source].

In the Gaelic / Goidelic languages however, the words for beard are different: féasóg in Irish, feusag in Scottish Gaelic, and faasaag in Manx. The come from the Old Irish fésóc, from fés (lip; body hair) [source].

Are words for beards and chins similar in other languages?

Greetings and salutations

By Simon

Greetings and salutations

Dear Readers,

When writing an email or other message, or even a letter or postcard, how do you start it and sign off?

When replying to emails, I usually echo the greetings and sign offs used by my correspondents. If they start with “Dear Mr Ager” or “Dear Simon”, I will reply with something simliar, although I often just use “Hi [name] … “Regards”. If we have already exchanged emails, I might dispense with the greetings and the sign offs.

I have also been greeted in emails with “Dear Professor Ager” and “Dear Dr Ager” – I’m neither a professor nor a doctor, so these amuse me.

How about in other languages? Are there standard ways of starting and finishing emails? If not, what do you use?

There was an interesting discussion about this on the latest episode of the BCC Radio 4 programme Word of Mouth, which inspired this post.

That’s all for now.

May your hovercraft always be full of eels.

Simon

Bags, satchels and briefcases

By Simon

In Romanian the word for a satchel, school bag or briefcase is ghiozdan [giˈozdan]. When I learnt this, I wondered where it might come from – it certainly doesn’t look Latin or Slavic.

Ghiozdan actually comes from the Turkish word cüzdăn (wallet, billfold, purse, pocket book).

A related word is servietă (briefcase), which comes from the French serviette (towel, napkin, serviette, briefcase).

There are in fact quite a few Romanian words borrowed from Turkish, including:

– bacșiș = tip, gratuity; baksheesh. From bahşiş (tip)
– basma = handkerchief. From the Turkish basma (printed cloth)
– degeaba = for nothing, for free; in vain. From the Turkish caba (effort)
– liliac = lilac; bat. From the Turkish leylak (lilac)
– murdar = dirty. From the Turkish murdar (uncleanly)

Sources: Wiktionary, Google Translate

Going to the circus

By Simon

Last week I went to the circus. It wasn’t a traditional circus in a big top with animals and clowns, but the wonderful Pirates of the Carabina with their Relentless Unstoppable Human Machine in the theatre in the local arts centre.

Juggling some clubs

I also saw the film The Greatest Showman, a film based loosely on the life of P.T. Barnum.

I enjoyed both very much, and thought I’d write about the word circus, and related words.

In English a circus can be:

1. A traveling company of performers that may include acrobats, clowns, trained animals, and other novelty acts, that gives shows usually in a circular tent.

2. A round open space in a town or city where multiple streets meet.

3. A spectacle; a noisy fuss

If you’ve ever wondered why Oxford Circus in London is so named, when there are usually no of clowns, acrobats or other circusy things there, now you know.

In ancient Roman a circus was an open air stadium for chariot racing, horse racing and performances. Most Roman circuses were oblong rather than round.

The word circus comes from the Latin circus (ring, circle), from the Ancient Greek κίρκος (kírkos – circle, ring, racecourse), from the Proto-Indo-European *sker / *ker (to turn, to bend), which is also the root of the English words ring and rink. [source].

The word juggle comes the Middle English jogeler (juggler), and and from the Old French jogler, jongler (to have fun with someone), from the Latin joculāri (to jest; joke). It is also related to the Old French jangler (to regale; entertain; have fun; trifle with; tease; mess around; gossip; boast; meddle), from the Frankish *jangalōn (to chit-chat with; gossip).
[source].

The word clown is possibly related to the Icelandic klunni (klutz) or the Old Frisian klönne (klutz) [source].

The word big top, for a large tent, was first used in 1825 by J. Purdy Brown’s itinerating show in Virginia [source]. Why that particularly term was used is uncertain.

The photo is one of me juggling clubs that I took last year. I’ve been juggling and doing other circusy things for over 30 years, and have considered joining a circus, or becoming a circus skills trainer. At the moment I go to the Bangor University Circus Society every week to practise my circus skills, and to teach others. More photos are available on Flickr.

Are any of you into juggling or other circus skills?

Nowies

By Simon

Does anybody have a name for the current decade?

I heard someone calling it the nowies on TV recently. Are there other names for it?

Also, did you have a name for the first decade of the 21st century?

It was called the naughties / noughties by some.

According to a thread on Quora, suggested names for the current decade include:

  • the tenties
  • the twenty-tens
  • the teens
  • the tweens
  • the tens
  • the tennies
  • the tenners

Names for the first decade of this century include:

  • the zeroes
  • the ohs
  • the double ohs
  • the aughts
  • the oneties
  • the twenty hundreds

Are there nicknames for these decades in other languages?

Lend me a word

By Simon

English is a bit of a mongrel. It is basically a West Germanic language, but contains words from many other languages, especially French, Latin, Greek and Old Norse. In fact, only about 26% of English vocabulary is Germanic, 29% is from French, 29% from Latin, 6% from Greek, and the rest from many other languages [source].

When English borrows words from other languages, which it does all the time, most people see the process as a positive one that expands and enriches English vocabulary.

There will always be some who object to the adoption of certain words, however, within a few generations, or even a few years, those words can become fully integrated in the language, and people might not even be aware they were borrowed in the first place.

Japanese is also open and accepting of foreign words, mainly from Chinese and English. These loan words are changed to fit Japanese phonetics, and some are shortened and combined to make original new words, such as リモコン (rimokon) = remote control, and オープンカー (ōpun-kā) = convertible car.

Borrowing between languages is common around the world where languages come into contact. The borrowing often flows from large languages, like English or Spanish, into smaller languages, such as regional, minority and endangered languages.

When smaller languages borrow from bigger languages, some believe the smaller languages suffer in the process, becoming corrupted, impoverished, polluted, etc. Such sentiments are much less common when talking about borrowing from smaller languages into bigger languages.

There seems to be a double standard here.

Borrowing will happen, even though language regulators, such as the Académie française, might object and try to stop it. Languages change and influence one another. They can borrow many words from other languages without losing their identity, and without breaking down into incomprehensible grunts.

What do you think?

Do languages benefit from borrowing?

Baliffs, Catchpoles and Tipstaves

By Simon

Yesterday I learnt an interesting French word – huissier [ɥi.sje], which means baliff, usher, process server, catchpole or tipstaff.

It is an abbreviation of huissier de justice, an officer of the court who serves process and notices, seizes and auctions off property, and executes garnishments, levies, and evictions.

It comes from the Vulgar Latin *ustiārius, from ostiārius (porter, doorman), from ostium (door, entrance, estuary).

Related terms include:

  • huissier d’armes = sergeant at arms
  • exploit d’huissier = writ
  • constat d’huissier = bailiff’s report
  • huissier audiencier = court usher
  • envoyer l’huissier = to send in the bailiffs

You may be wondering, what’s a catchpole or tipstaff? I certainly am. I know a family called Catchpole, but don’t know what the word means.

Catchpole is an obsolete word for “A taxman, one who gathers taxes; A sheriff’s officer, usually one who arrests debtors.” It comes from the Old French chacepol (one who chases fowls).

Tipstaff is “A ceremonial staff, with a metal tip, carried by a constable or bailiff etc as a sign of office; An officer, of a court etc. who carries such a staff.”

Sources: Reverso, Wiktionary