Category: Etymology

Gaelic hills

By Simon

A photo of Scottish mountains I took in March 2016

I’m currently reading an interesting book – Uncommon Ground – A word-lover’s guide to the British landscape by Dominick Tyler.

One thing I’ve learnt from it, is that there are quite a few words in Scottish Gaelic related to hills and mountains:

Beinn [beiɲ / beɲə] = mountain, mount; high hill, pinnacle; head, top, high place. It comes from the Old Irish benn (peak, point, pinnacle), from the Proto-Celtic *benno- (peak, top).

Sgurr [sguːrˠ / sgurˠə] = high pointed hill, peak; cliff, craig.

Stob [sdɔb] = point, pinnacle; stake; pointed iron stick; prickle, thorn; stump; sharp-pointed stick; to prick, prod.

Meall [mjaul̪ˠ / mjal̪ˠəɣ] = mound, round hill; pile, heap; lump, clot, mass; (rain) shower; bout. It comes from the Old Irish mell (a ball, sphere, round mass; a round protuberance, swelling).

Stùc [stuːxg] = little hill jutting out from a greater, steep on one side and rounded on the other; cliff; pinnacle of a roof; horn; scowl; rock; lump; conical steep rock; precipice.

Stòr [sdɔːr] = steep, high cliff; broken or decayed tooth.

Coire [kɤrʲə] = circular hollow surrounded by hills; mountain dell; whirlpool.

Cnoc /krɔ̃xg/ = hill: small hill, hillock, knoll; chilblain. It comes from the the Old Irish cnocc (hill, lump, stump), from Proto-Celtic *knokkos (hill).

Cruachan [kruəxan] = conical hill; hip.

Mam [maum] = rounded hill/mountain; mountain gap/pass; boil; bulge.

Cnap [krãhb] = small lumpy hill; knob, lump, protrusion; block; boss, node; swelling; button; potato; gust of wind; thump, thud. It is a borrowing from the Old Norse knappr (knob, stud, button), or the Old English cnæp (top of a hill, button, brooch).

Tiumpan [tʲũːmban] = one-sided hill; timbrel, tabret; tambourine; backside, bum.

Binnean [biɲan] = high conical hill; apex, high point; pinnacle.

Cruachag [kruəxag] small round hill; small pile/stack; small clamp (stack).

Dùnan [duːnan] = small hill; small fortress; dunghill; midden.

Torr [tɔːrˠ] = hill, mountain of an abrupt or conical form, lofty hill; Eminence; mound, large heap.

Monadh [mɔnəɣ] = mountain (covered with moors); high-lying moorland; expanse of heather.

Sliabh [ʃʎiəv] = hillside, slope; mountain. It comes from the Old Irish slíab (mountain, mountain range, moor), from the Proto-Celtic *slēbos (mountain).

Note: not all these words feature in Uncommon Ground.

Some of these words appear mainly in place names, and may be used in songs and poems, but are not used in everyday Gaelic.

Sources: Wiktionary, Am Faclair Beag, Bosworth-Toller Anglo-Saxon Dictionary

Standing still on the longest day

By Simon

Today is the longest day of the year and the summer solstice. After several hot, sunny days in Bangor, today it’s cloudy, warm and muggy.

The word solstice comes from the Old French solstice, from Latin sōlstitium (solstice; summer), from sol (sun) and sto (stand), from sistō (I stand still).

Sol comes from the Proto-Italic *swōl, from the pre-Italic *sh₂wōl, from the Proto-Indo-European *sóh₂wl̥ (sun), which is the root of words for sun in many Indo-European languages. In the Gaelic languages though, it is the root of words for eye: Irish: súil, Manx: sooill, and Scottish Gaelic: sùil.

The word muggy, meaning humid, or hot and humid, comes from an English dialect word, mugen (to drizzle), from the Old Norse mugga (drizzle, mist), which possibly comes from the Proto-Indo-European *meug- (slimy, slippery), which is also the root of the English word mucus.

Wandering prattlers

By Simon

It has been brought to my attention that in Swedish the most common way to say ‘speak’, at least in Stockholm, is pratar, and that few people use talar anymore.

Är detta sant? Is this true?

The Duolingo course I’m studying Swedish with uses talar, – pratar has not come up yet.

According to Witionary, Pratar is the present tense form of the verb prata (to talk, speak), and comes from the Low German praten (to talk), from the Proto-Germanic *prattuz (idle or boastful talk, deceit), from the Proto-Indo-European *brodno- (to wander, rove). The English word prattle (to speak incessantly and in a childish manner; to babble) comes from the same root.

Talar is the present tense form of the verb tala (to speak; to utter words; to tell; to talk; to make a speech) from the Old Norse tala, from the Proto-Germanic *talō (calculation, number), from the Proto-Indo-European *del- (to reckon, count).

Other Swedish words related to speech and language include:

– tal = speech
– språk = language
– språka = to speak
– snacka = to talk, speak (coll.); to boast emptily (slang); to reveal secrets
– säga = to say, to tell; to utter words
– pladdra = to prattle
– skrika = to scream, to yell, to shout
– viska = to whisper

Nature service

By Simon

Yesterday I went to see the ankle specialist at the local hospital,. He said that my ankle has healed well and just needs a bit of physiotherapy. I can start to wean myself off the orthopedic boot, using it less and less each day, and crutches as well. I didn’t wear the boot yesterday afternoon, and tried to get around a bit without the crutches. This worked okay, but when I went out last night to a gig, I wore the boot and took the crutches.

Today I went back to the hospital for some physiotherapy, without the boot, but with the crutches. The physiotherapist gave me some exercises to do, and said that I should try to move my ankle as much as possible. Within a few weeks I probably won’t need to crutches anymore, and in a few months my ankle should be back to normal. I’ll do all the exercises dilligently, and devise others as well, as I want to be fully mobile as soon as possible.

The physiotherapist suggested that I sit with my ankle raised for 20 minutes each hour. I plan to use this time to study languages, practise music, or read. At the moment I’m studying Russian, Swedish and Romanian, mainly on Duolinguo, while keeping my other languages, especially the Celtic ones, ticking over.

The word physiotherapy comes from physio, from Ancient Greek φύσις (phúsis – nature) and therapy, from New Latin therapia (therapy), from Ancient Greek θεραπεία (therapeía – service, medical treatment), from θεραπεύω (therapeúō – I serve, treat medically).

Calabooses, digging and beds

By Simon

A photo of a Calaboose

I came across the word calaboose in a book I read recently and as I couldn’t work out its meaning from the context I had to look it up. I also like the sound of it, so thought I’d write about it.

A calaboose is an informal American term for a prison or jail. It comes from the Spanish calabozo (dungeon), according to the Collins English Dictionary.

Calabozo possibly comes from the Late Latin *calafodium, from fodiō (I dig, bury), which comes from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰod- (plot, patch of ground) from *bʰedʰ- (to pierce, dig).

This is also the root of the English word bed, via the Proto-Germanic badją (lair, grave, bed), the Welsh word bedd (grave), via the Proto-Celtic *bedo- (grave, ditch), and related words in other, mainly Germanic, languages.

Flutes and buckles

By Simon

Six weeks ago today I had a slight mishap while ice skating in London, and managed to dislocate and fracture my ankle – both the tibia (shin bone) and fibula (calf bone).

The word tibia comes from the Latin tībia (shin bone, leg). It originally referred to a stalk, or reed pipe, and came to mean shin bone as flutes were originally made with shin bones. It is possibly connected to the Ancient Greek word σίφων (síphōn – siphon, tube) [source].

The word fibula comes from the Latin fībula (clasp, buckle, brooch), from fī(gō) (to fasten), and -bula (a suffix denoting instrument, vessel, place, or person) [source].

My bones should be healed by now – it usually takes about six weeks. I went to the local hospital a few weeks ago for a check-up. They x-rayed my ankle, took off the plaster cast, gave me a special orthopedic boot. They said that my ankle is healing well. I’ll be going back there in just over a week. In the meantime, I’ve started to experiment with putting more weight on my injured leg, using just one crutch, or walking without the crutches. I can does this quite well, though still need the crutches for stairs and steps.

I’ve adapted as best I can to having reduced mobility. It’s frustrating not being able to walk four or five miles a day, as I usually do, but I hope to be able to do that again soon. Some things, like grocery shopping, are difficult, so I order stuff online and had it delivered. I’ve noticed that many places are not very accessible, and that simple things like doors can be tricky to manage on crutches, especially if they have strong springs.

Playing games

By Simon

In English you play a game, but you don’t play a play. In Russian the words for to play and game come from the same root: играть (to play) and игра (game). To play a game is играть в игру.

I already knew the verb играть, but didn’t know that the word for a game was similar, until today.

игра́ть means to play; to act, to perform; to gamble; (of a storm) to rage; (of wine) to sparkle. It comes from the Proto-Slavic *jьgra (play, game).

игра́ means a game; a sport which is played; play (for amusement); acting, performance; role-playing; playing (a musical instrument). [source].

Related words include:

– игра́льный = playing
– игри́вый = playful
– игри́стый = sparkling (of wine)
– игрово́й = game, play, acting, playing
– игро́к = player, gambler

Words for game are the same or similar in other Slavic languages. However they have lost the initial i in most Western Slavic languages: hra (Czech & Slovak); gra (Polish); jhra, hra (Upper Sorbian); gra, igra (Lower Sorbian) [source].

Harmony-loving chorus

By Simon

Last night I went to an excellent concert at the Pontio Arts Centre featuring the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and the brilliant harpsichordist, Mahan Esfahani.

As well as enjoying the concert, I started thinking about the word philharmonic – what it means, where it comes from, and why it features in the names of many orchestras.

According to Wiktionary, philharmonic means “appreciative of music, but especially to its performance” or “A full-size symphony orchestra”. It comes from the French, philharmonique, from the Italian filarmonico (loving harmony), from the Greek φίλος (phílos – dear, beloved) + αρμονικός (armonikós – harmonic, harmonious) [source].

The name philharmonic was adopted by the Royal Philharmonic Society, which was established in London on 6th February 1813 by a group of thirty professional musicians. Its aims were to promote performances of instrumental music, and to build an orchestra, which initially played at the Argyll Rooms on Regent Street. Before then there were no permanent orchestras in London. After the Society was formed, other orchestras started to the word philharmonic to their names.

The word orchestra comes from the Greek ὀρχήστρα (orchistra), which was the area in front of the stage in an ancient Greek theatre reserved for the chorus, and comes from the word ὀρχοῦμαι (orkhoûmai – to dance).

The word symphony (an extended piece of music of sophisticated structure, usually for orchestra) comes from the Old French simphonie (musical harmony; stringed instrument), from Latin symphonia (harmony, symphony; a kind of musical instrument), from Ancient Greek συμφωνία (sumphōnía – symphony; a concert of vocal or instrumental music; music; band, orchestra; type of musical instrument), from σῠν- (sun – with, together) +‎ φωνή (phōnḗ – sound) [source].

For the past several years

By Simon

Does anything strike you as odd about the title of this post?

I came across this wording today in a book by an American author, and immediately thought, “don’t you mean ‘for the past few years’?”. For me that would be a more natural way to express this. Several in this context just sounds wrong. Maybe it sounds natural and normal to you.

Several is defined on WordReference.com as:

1. being more than two but fewer than many (there’s nothing like precision, is there?)
2. separate; different
3. individual; respective
4. several persons or things; a few; some

Several comes from the Anglo-Norman several (separate), from the Medieval Latin sēparālis, from the Latin sēparāre (to separate).

Abounding in fish

By Simon

The Mill Pond and River Dart

I spent the weekend in Devon with my brother and his family. It was my nephew’s first birthday yesterday and I was there mainly to celebrate that. My journey, a long and meadering one, took me through some places with interesting names, such as Exeter, Teignmouth, Dawlish and Paignton.

As well as admiring the scenery, I started wondering about the origins of these names, and in the case of Teignmouth, how to pronounce it.

Exeter comes from the Old English Escanceaster, and is named after the River Exe, with the Old English suffix -ceaster (fortres, fortified town). So the name means “fortress on the Exe”. The Welsh name for the city, Caerwysg, means the same thing.

The River Exe gets it’s name from the Latin isca, which is what the Romans called the fort they built where Exeter is now, in 55AD. They later called it Isca Dumnoniorum (Watertown of the Dumnonii), to distinguish it from Isca (Augusta) or Caerleon in South Wales.

The Latin name isca is a modified form of a Brittonic root meaning “water” or “abounding in fish”. Other river names from the same root include Esk, Axe and Usk. I think the root referred to is the Proto-Celtic *udenskyos (water), from the Proto-Indo-European *wódr̥ (water) [source].

The Proto-Indo-European *wódr̥ is also the root of words for water in Germanic, Slavic, Baltic, and Goidelic Celitic languages. It is the root of words for wave in the Romance languages (onda, unda, onde, etc), and of an obsolete English word for wave, und, from the Middle English unde (a wave), via the Old French unde (wave).

Teignmouth is pronounced [tɪnməθ] and comes from the Old English Tengemuða (mouth of the stream) [source].

Dawlish, according to Wikipedia, comes from a Welsh river name meaning ‘black stream’. In Roman times it was known as Dolfisc (dark river or the devil’s water). According to dawlish.com, Dawlish was originally spelt Deawlisc, a Celtic (Brythonic) word meaning ‘Devil Water’, or from a word meaning “black stream”, which is cognate with Welsh du (g)lais (black stream).

Paignton [ˈpeɪntən] comes from an Anglo-Saxon name meaning Paega’s town.

In case you’re wondering, the photo is of the mill pond and River Dart in Stoke Gabriel, where my brother lives. Stoke comes from the Old English word stoc (place), which also has two two specialised meanings: (1) a religious place and (2) a secondary settlement [source], and Gabriel is a saint/angel associated with the area. The Dart apparently gets its name from a Brythonic Celtic word meaning ‘river where oak trees grow’ [source]. If you click on the photo you can see a larger version, and some of my other photos from Stoke Gabriel.