Les chuchoteuses

Lindsay et les chuchoteuses

On Rue Staint-Paul in Vieux Montréal there’s a statue of three women having a gossip. It’s known as Les chuchoteuses or ‘The whisperers’. It’s also known as the “fat ladies talking statue”. It’s by Rose-Aimée Bélanger, a sculptor from Ontario, and was installed as part of a 2006 initiative to highlight some of Old Montreal’s forgotten spaces.

The word chuchoteuses [ʃyʃɔtø:z] comes from chuchoter [ʃy.ʃɔ.te] (to whisper; to rustle), which is of imitative origin. Related words include chuchoterie (whispering), chuchotis (faint whispering), chuchotement (a whisper / murmur, rustling).

I like the sound of this word, and of the words for whisper in other languages:

– Italian / Portuguese / Spanish: sussurro, from Latin susurrus ‎(a humming, whispering)
– German: Flüstern
– Dutch: fluistering
– Welsh: sibrwd

What about in other languages?

The photo is one I took while exploring Montréal with Linsday Dow of Linsday Does Languages, who features in it.

Sources: Wiktionary and Reverso

Savouring sapient and savvy saphiophiles

An interesting new word I came across recently is sapiophile [seɪpɪofaɪl/sapiofaɪl]. When I first saw it I wasn’t sure what it meant, but as soon as I looked it up it made sense. It means “someone who is (sexually) attracted to intelligence / intelligent people” [source]. It comes from the Latin sapiō and the Ancient Greek φιλέω (phileō – I love) [source].

Sapiō is a form of sapiēns, as in homo sapiens, which means wise, discreet; wise man, philosopher, man of taste. Related words include sapienter (wisely, sensibly), and sapientia (wisdom, discernment; philosophy; knowledge).

The English word sapient (wise), comes from the Old French sapient, from the Latin sapientem (nominative sapiēns), the present participle of sapere (to taste, have taste, be wise), from the Proto-Indo-European root *sep- (to taste, perceive) [source]. Alternatively it comes from the Proto-Indo-European *sh₁p-i- ‎(to notice), from the Proto-Indo-European *seh₁p- ‎(to try, to research). This is also the root of words meaning to know in quite a few languages, including: savoir (French), sapere (Italian, Sardinian), saber (Portuguese, Spanish, Galician, Catalan, Asturian, Occitan), and of the English words to savour and savvy (shrewd, well-informed and perceptive) [source].

A number of women on dating sites say they are a saphiophile – that’s where I stumbled on the word. A lot of women on such sites are looking for someone who is genuine, which can mean various things, including “belonging to, or proceeding from the original stock; native; hence, not counterfeit, spurious, false, or adulterated; authentic; real; natural; true; pure” [source]. Which of these meanings is meant I’m not sure.

Genuine comes from the Latin genuinus ‎(innate, native, natural), from gignere, from the Old Latin genere ‎(to beget, produce), from the Proto-Indo-European *ǵénh₁os ‎(race), from *ǵenh₁- ‎(to produce, beget) [source].

So maybe I should mention on Match and POF that I’m seeking a savvy, single, multilingual saphiophile – try saying that a few times quickly, it’s a bit of a tongue twister.

On Match you can search for people by the language(s) they speak. So, for example, you could search for someone who speaks French, Welsh, Kazakh, Swahili, Nepalese, Chinese, Taiwanese, Esperanto, or quite a few other languages. The list of languages is a bit random and looks like users were able to enter languages at some stage, so it includes Bable (Asturian), Euskera (Basque), Chinese, Chinese Traditional, Gallero (?), Indian (?), Iranian (?), Mallorquin, Valenciano and Visayan (Cebuano).

There are currently 651 Welsh-speaking women on Match, for example, 65 Esperanto speakers, and 42 Taiwanese speakers. However, in your profile you can only choose three languages – on Plenty of Fish (POF) you can only choose one second language, and you can only search one language at a time. These sites are obviously not set up with polyglots in mind.

Suburban bans

In French the word banlieue [bɑ̃.ljø] can refer to:

1. Circonscription territoriale qui s’étendait à une lieue hors de la ville et dans laquelle un juge pouvait exercer sa juridiction.
(Territorial division that stretched a mile out of town and in which a judge could exercise jurisdiction).

2. Territoire et ensemble des localités qui environnent une grande ville.
(Territory and all the communities that surround a large city).

This word comes from the Medieval Latin banleuca (the space within a mile of a city to which extended the ban in feudal society). The word ban in this context refers to the jurisdiction of an overlord in which he could call vassals for war. It comes from Old French, from the Frankish *ban.

Sources: le Trésor de la langue française informatisé and Wiktionnaire

The word banlieue is also used in English to refer to “The outskirts of a city, especially in France, inhabited chiefly by poor people living in tenement-style housing” [source].

The English word banns, as in banns of marriage, probably comes from the same root as the French ban, but the English word ban (to forbid, prohibit), comes from the Middle English bannen, from the Old English bannan ‎(to summon, command, proclaim, call out), from the Proto-Germanic *bannaną ‎(curse, forbid), from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰeh₂- ‎(to say) [source].

The elusive illusive

Sometimes you think you know a word, but when you check it, you discover that you’ve mixed it up with a similar-sounding word. That’s what happened to me this week with the words elusive and illusive. Without looking them up, do you know what they mean?

When you’re searching for something but have trouble finding it, that thing is elusive. According to the Collins English Dictionary, it means:

1. difficult to catch (an elusive thief)
2. preferring or living in solitude and anonymity
3. difficult to remember (an elusive thought)

So something that is elusive might difficult to find, describe, remember, or achieve.

Illusive, on the other hand, means illusory or unreal.

So something that is illusive could also be elusive.

Elusive comes from the Latin elus-, the past participle stem of eludere (to elude, frustrate) plus the -ive ending. Elude comes from ex- (out, away) and ludere (to play) [source].

Illusive comes from illusion + -ive. Illusion comes from the Old French illusion (a mocking, deceit, deception), from the Latin illusionem (a mocking, jesting, jeering; irony), from the past participle stem of illudere (mock at), from in- (at, upon) and ludere (to play) [source].

Peripatetic false friends

The English word peripatetic means “tending to walk about; constantly travelling; itinerant; nomadic”. It is also related to Aristotle, his philosophy, and the school of thought he founded. A peripatetic teacher is one who teaches in a number of different schools, and it’s common, at least in the UK, for music teachers and sometimes language teachers, to be peripatetic.

It comes from the French péripatétique, from the Latin peripatēticus, from Ancient Greek περιπατητικός ‎(peripatētikós – given to walking around), from περιπατέω ‎(peripatéō – I walk around), from περί ‎(perí – around) and πατέω ‎(patéō – I walk). The French and Latin words mean “of or relating to Aristotle and his philosophy” [source].

The French for a peripatetic teacher is enseignant itinérant, and a travelling salesman is vendeur ambulant and a busker is musicien ambulant. The word péripatéticien(ne) does exist in French, but refers to a streetwalker / prostitute [source]. So should be handled with caution.

In the Land of the Eagles

Snowdon / Yr Wyddfa

Yesterday I climbed Snowdon with other members of the Bangor Ukulele Society. We set off from Pen-y-Pass (The head/top of the pass) and took the Miner’s Track to the top, then went down the Llanberis Path. On the way up and the way down we stopped a number of times to sing a few songs, and got a bit of an audience in places.

The name Snowdon comes from the Old English for “snow hill”, and the Welsh name – Yr Wyddfa [əɾ ˈwɨ̞ðva] – means “the tumulus” or “burial mound”. According to legend a giant known as Rhitta Gawr was buried there after being defeated by King Arthur [source].

Snowdonia, the region in which Snowdon sits, is known as yr Eryri [əɾ ɛrˈərɪ] in Welsh. I was told yesterday that this comes from the word eryr (eagle) so is poetically translated as “The Land of the Eagles”. However this is apparently a folk etymology and it actually comes from the Latin word orīrī, from orīor (to rise, get up, appear, exist) and means highland or upland [source].

The Latin word orīor comes from the Proto-Indo-European *(H)r ̊-nw- ‎(to flow, move, run), which is also the root of the Middle Irish rian ‎(river, way), the Old Church Slavonic reka ‎(river), the Latin rivus ‎(stream), the Sanskrit ऋति ‎(ṛti – course, way), and the Gaulish *Renos ‎(that which flows), which is where the name of the river Rhine comes from [source].

Will you be pernoctating?

If someone asked you if you were planning to pernoctate, would you know what they meant?

This is a word I came across today in the blog A Linguist Abroad in a post about ‘Interesting’ Cambridge rules. It appears in the sentence:

A Tutor (the pernoctating Tutor) is on duty every night and may stop a gathering forthwith if it is causing disturbance to other members of the College or neighbouring community.

(emphasis added)

To pernoctate [ˈpɜː.nɒk.teɪt] (UK) [pɚˈnɑkˌteɪt] (US), is “to stay all night; to pass the night (especially in prayer)”, according to Wikitionary.

A pernoctation is:

– An overnight stay; action (or instance) of abiding through the night at a location.
– The action (or an instance) of walking about at night, especially as a vigil or watch.
– A religious watch kept during normal sleeping hours, during which prayers or other ceremonies are performed.

According to the usage notes, “the sense of a religious watch may apply either to a holy vigil or to diabolical activities.”

These words come from the Late Latin pernoctātiō ‎(a spending [of] the night), from the Latin pernoctāre (to send the night), from per- (through) and nox/noct- (night).

Students who need to work all night to finish an assignment / essay, or to revise for an exam might “pull an all-nighter”.

Are there other ways to express this idea?

Caledonian Antisyzygy

In the Alexander McCall-Smith novel I just finished reading, The Revolving Door of Life, the concept of antisyzygy, and particularly Caledonian antisyzygy, comes up. I had to look it up as I didn’t know what it meant or how to pronounce it.

The term Caledonian Antisyzygy refers to the “idea of dueling polarities within one entity”, which apparently typical for the Scottish psyche and literature. It was first coined by G. Gregory Smith in his 1919 book Scottish Literature: Character and Influence [source].

Syzygy [ˈsɪz.ɪdʒ.i], comes from the Late Latin syzygia ‎(conjunction), from the Ancient Greek σύζυγος ‎(súzugos – yoked together), and was borrowed into in English in 1847 (in its astronomical meaning). It means:

– A kind of unity, namely an alignment of three celestial bodies (for example, the Sun, Earth, and Moon) such that one body is directly between the other two, such as occurs at an eclipse.
– An archetypal pairing of contrasexual opposites, symbolizing the communication of the conscious and unconscious minds.
– A relation between generators of a module.
– The fusion of some or all of the organs.
– The association of two protozoa end-to-end or laterally for the purpose of asexual exchange of genetic material.
– The pairing of chromosomes in meiosis.

Source: Wiktionary

Ti a Chi

There was an interesting discussion this morning on Radio Cymru about the use of pronouns in Welsh. Like in many languages, there are different forms of the second person pronoun in Welsh:

ti [tiː] = you singular and informal
chi [χiː] = you plural, and formal you singular and plural
chdi [χdiː] = northern dialect variant of ti
chwi [χwiː] = literary alternative to chi

There are also emphatic forms of these pronouns: tithau, chithau, chwithau and chdithau, though they are less commonly used.

Chi, chdi and chwi come from the Middle Welsh chwi, from the Proto-Celtic *swīs, from the Proto-Indo-European *wos (you plural) [source]. Ti comes from the Proto-Celtic *tū, from the Proto-Indo-European *túh₂ (you singular) [source].

So ti is the equivalent of tu in French, Du in German, in Spanish, thu in Scottish Gaelic, and so on, and chi is the equivalent of vous, Sie, Usted and sibh in those languages.

The discussion on the radio was about when people use the formal chi and when they use the informal ti – some people said they used chi only with older strangers. Others said that their parents used chi which each other, but that they used ti with their parents. Some people complained about the increasing used of ti, even with older people.

While you don’t have to worry about which you to use in English as there’s only one, you might not be sure whether to use someone’s first name, or title plus surname, or even just their surname when addressing them. I get round this by generally avoiding using people’s names, which is also handy if I can’t quite remember their names.

Is the use of informal and formal modes of address changing where you are?

Nix and Natch

The words nix and natch have come up quite a bit in things I’ve read and/or heard recently, so I thought I’d look into their meanings and origins.

Nix as a verb means “to ​stop, ​prevent, or ​refuse to ​accept something” and as a noun it means “nothing or no”. These usages are apparently mainly informal and used in the US [source].

Accroding to the Online Etymology Dictionary, nix comes from the German nix, a dialectal variant of nichts (nothing), from the Middle High German nihtes, from the genitive of niht/nit (nothing) from the Old High German niwiht, from ni/ne (no) and wiht (thing, creature).

I rarely come across this word in British English.

Natch is an abbreviation of naturally, natch – I didn’t realise this until I looked it up. I thought it was some kind of negative, but wasn’t sure what it meant.