Here some nice examples of pictures made from words that illustrates interesting idioms in a variety of languages. I really like the way they’re done.
Idioms that get lost in translation, courtesy of Expedia.com
Category: French (français)
Lend me a word
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
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
Les mots de la semaine
| français | English | Cymraeg |
|---|---|---|
| le radeau | raft | rafft |
| flotter sur un radeau | to raft | rafftio |
| la tortue (de mer) | (sea) turtle | crwban y môr; môr-grwban |
| huissier; agent de poursuite | bailiff | beili |
| le porche | porch | porth; cyntedd; portsh |
| le comprimé; le cachet | pill | pilsen; pelen |
| le dessert | dessert | melysfwyd; danteithfwyd; pwdin |
| le désert | desert | anial; diffaith; anghyfannedd |
| parfumé; plaisant; agréable | fragrant | persawr; pêr; perarolgus; melys |
| la chambre d’enfants; la crèche; la garderie | nursery | meithrinfal; magwrfa; cylch meithrin |
Bittersweet
When looking for the French word for chutney last night we discovered the word aigre (sour), and realised that vinegar, or vinaigre in French, must be wine (vin) that is sour (aigre). This is indeed the origin of vinegar and vinaigre.
Vin (wine) comes from the Latin vīnum (wine, grapes, grapevine), from Proto-Italic *wīnom (wine), from Proto-Indo-European *wóyh₁nom (wine).
Aigre (sour, sharp, acid, shrill) comes from the Old French, from Vulgar Latin *acrus / *acrum, from the Classical Latin acer / acrem (sharp, sour, bitter), from Proto-Italic *akris (sharp, sour), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂ḱrós (sharp).
Chutney is a sauce made from fruit and/or vegetables preserved with vinegar and sugar. The word comes from the Hindi चटनी (catnī / chatnee – to lick). In French it is chutney, épice or salade piquante, and is defined as “condiment aigre-doux” (bittersweet condiment), which is where I found the word aigre.
Sitting in a session
If someone said to you, “It was a good session last night”, what would you understand by that?
In my world a session involves people gathering together, usually in a pub, to play folk music, sing, and sometimes to dance and/or tell stories.
Other kinds of sessions are available: jam sessions, parliamentary sessions, training sessions, drinking sessions, recording sessions, and so on.
The word session comes from the Old French session (sitting; session [of a court or committee]), from the Latin sessiō (a sitting), from sedeō (sit), from the Proto-Italic *sedēō (sit, be sitting, be seated), from the Proto-Indo-European *sed- (to sit), which is also the root of the English word saddle [source].
I go to several folk music sessions a week, and usually play the mandolin, and occasionally the whistle, bodhrán or cavaquinho. I also go to a ukulele session. In some sessions we play Irish or Welsh music, in others we play music and sing songs from many countries. We also play tunes we have written ourselves, including some of my own tunes.
I’ve learnt many tunes from these sessions. Some I can pick up by ear after hearing them a few times, others I record and learn at home. I find it easier to learn a tune if I’ve heard it many times, though some are harder to learn than others as they are in unusual keys, and/or don’t go where you expect.
Similarly, when learning new words in foreign tongues, the ones that are easiest to learn are the ones that sound familar. Maybe I’ve heard them many times, and/or they’re similar to words I already know. Words that contain unfamiliar sounds and combinations of sounds take more learning, just as tunes in unfamiliar keys and/or containing unusual combinations of notes can take longer to learn.
Sometimes the versions of tunes I know are a bit different to the ones known by my fellow musicians. This is a bit like hearing a language spoken with a different accent, or in a different dialect – it may seem strange at first, but you get used to it the more you hear it.
Last night I went to a Welsh music session in the Globe Inn (Tafarn y Glôb) in Bangor. Here’s one of the tunes that was played (Y Derwydd – The Druid):
Gloopy!
An interesting Russian word I learnt this week is глупый (glupyj) [ˈɡlupɨj], which means silly, stupid, foolish or inane, but sounds like one of the seven dwarfs.
The Russian name for the dwarf dopey is actually Простак (Prostak), which means simpleton.
Глупый comes from the Proto-Slavic *glupъ (stupid, foolish), which possibly comes from a Germanic source. Cognates in Germanic languages include glópr (idiot) in Old Norse, and glópur (fool, idiot) in Icelandic.
Cognates in Slavic languages include:
– Bulgarian глупав (glupav) = stupid, silly, foolish, fool, unwise, sappy
– Croatian glup = stupid, dumb, silly, dull, brainless, dense
– Serbian глуп = stupid, dumb, silly, dull, dense, obtuse
– Slovene glúp = dumb, stupid, moronic
– Slovak hlúpy = stupid, silly, foolish
– Czech hloupý = stupid, silly, foolish
A related word in Russian is тупой (typoj) [tʊˈpoj], which means ‘dull, blunt; obtuse; dull, stupid’. It comes from the Old East Slavic тупъ (tupŭ), from Proto-Slavic *tǫpъ, and sounds like the Welsh word twp [tʊp], which means stupid. Is there any connection?
The word stupid comes from the Middle French stupide (stupid), from the Latin stupidus (struck senseless, amazed), from stupeō (to be amazed or confounded, to be struck senseless), from the Proto-Indo-European *(s)tup- / *(s)tewp- (to wonder), from *(s)tu- (to stand, stay).
I thought I’d made up the word gloopy, but it does exist, and means ‘Having a glutinous, sloppy consistency’.
The Friday of Stupid Spending
Today is apparently Black Friday, a custom that originates in the USA and which has been adopted in the UK. It falls the day after Thanksgiving, which hasn’t been adopted in the UK, and many shops and online retailers offer special deals at this time.
I don’t have any deals for you, as I don’t sell anything, but what I can offer you is the Welsh term for Black Friday – Dydd Gwener y Gwario Gwirion, or “the Friday of Stupid Spending”, which seems to sum it up nicely. Mwy o wybodaeth.
November is also known to some as Movember, the month when some men grow moustaches and rise money for charities related to men’s health. The word was first used in Adelaide in Australia back in 1999, when a group of blokes grew moustaches during November and raised money for an animal charity. Another group of men did something similar in Melbourne in 2004, and later set up the Movember Foundation charity.
The Welsh version of Movember is Tashwedd, which combines mwstash (moustache) and Tachwedd (November).
Moustache comes from the French moustache from the Italian mostaccio, from Ancient Greek μουστάκιον (moustákion), a diminutive of the Ancient Greek μύσταξ (mústax – upper lip), from the Proto-Indo-European *mendʰ- (to chew).
There was another word for moustache in English: kemp, from the Old English cenep (moustache), from Proto-Germanic *kanipaz (mustache, beard), from the Proto-Indo-European *ǵenu- (jaw) [source].
Diolch i Meinir a Josef am y geiriau
Les mots de la semaine
| français | English | Cymraeg |
|---|---|---|
| indépendant; travail à son propre compte | self-employed | hunangyflogedig |
| le glissement de terrain | landslide | tirlithriad, tirgwymp, cwymp |
| obtenir un raz-de-marée en sa faveur | to win by a landslide | ennill yn ysgubol |
| risqué | dodgy (risky, dangerous) | amheus, perig, peryglus, pethma |
| nourrir à la cuillère; mâcher le travail à qqn |
to spoonfeed | rhoi bwyd llwy; bwydo â llaw |
| l’abat-jour (m) | lampshade | lamplen, cysgodlen, mantell |
| l’abat-vent | lean-to; windbreak; chimney cap; cowl | cysgod rhag gwynt, atalfa wynt |
| parer à toute éventualité | to be ready for every eventuality | barod am bopeth |
| porte coupe-feu; porte pare-feu | fire door | drws tân |
| détrempé | soggy (ground) | corslyd, dyfrllyd, soeglyd |
| trempé | soggy (clothes) | corslyd, dyfrllyd, soeglyd |
| mou | soggy (food) | soeg, soeglyd, toeslyd |
| mouillé jusqu’aux os | soaked to the skin | gwlyb diferol, gwlyb at y croen |
Funambulists
I discovered an interesting word the other day funambulist [fjuːˈnæmbjʊlɪst], which is someone who funambulates, or performs funambulism on a tightrope or slack rope. Or in other words, a tightrope walker.
It comes from the Latin fūnambulus (tightrope walker), from funis (rope) and ambulare (walk), either directly, or via the French funambule (tightrope walker).
Other words from the same ambulatory root include:
– to amble = an unhurried leisurely walk or stroll; an easy gait
– to ambulate = to walk
– ambulant = able to walk; walking, strolling
– ambulation = walking around
– ambulator = a walker, one who walks
– ambulophobia = a morbid fear of walking
– ambulomancy = a form of divination involving walking, usually in circles
– noctambulo = a noctambulist; a sleepwalker
– somnambulism = sleepwalking
– perambulate = to walk through; to inspect (an area) on foot
– ambulance
In French a tightrope is une corde raide, to walk a tightrope is marcher sur la corde raide, and a tightrope walker or funambulist is funambule, danseur de corde, équilibriste or fil-de-fériste.
Are there interesting words for tightrope walking in any other languages?
Have any of you ever tried tightrope, slack rope of slackline walking?
Sources: Wiktionary, Reverso Dictionary, The Free Dictionary