Bittersweet

Chutney

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.

The Foreshortening Dark

December in various languages

In many languages this month is known as December, or something similar, which comes ultimately from the Latin *decumo-mēnsris (of the tenth month) – the Roman calendar started in March (mārtius) [source].

However in some languages December has a completely different name:

In Welsh December is Rhagfyr [ˈr̥aɡvɨ̞r], which means the ‘foreshortening’, from rhagfyrhau (to foreshorten), from rhag (a prefix with various meanings) and byr (short, small) [source].

In Breton December is miz Kerzu [miz ˈkɛʁ.zy] – which means ‘very dark month’. The Cornish for December is similar and has the same meaning: Mys Kevardhu [source].

In Scottish Gaelic December is Dùbhlachd, From dubh (dark), so it’s a dark time [source].

In Irish December is Mí na Nollag (the month of Christmas). Nollag is the genetive of Nollaig, which comes from the Old Irish Notlaic (Christmas), from Latin nātālīcia (a birthday party), from nātālis (natal), from nātus (born) [source].

In Finnish December is joulukuu (Christmas/yule moon) [source], which was also the meaning of the Old English word for this month: Gēolmōnaþ.

In Czech December is prosinec [prɔsɪnɛt͡s], which comes from prosinoti (flashing, shining) [source].

In Polish December is grudzień [ˈɡru.d͡ʑɛɲ], from the Proto-Slavic *grudьnъ, from *gruda (heap, lump) & *-ьnъ [source].

Are there interesting names for December in other languages?

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’.

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.

Slacklining in the park

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

Parasols, umbrellas and gobos

A parasol

At the French conversation group last night, one of the words that came up was parasol, which is used in English and French to refer to a small umbrella used as protection from the sun.

Parasol comes from the Italian parasole (parasol, sunshade), from para- (to shield) and sole (sun) [source].

Related words include:

– parapluie = umbrella
– para-soleil = sun visor, sunshade
– pare-son = gobo – a device placed around a microphone to shield undesirable sounds

The French word parer (to ward off; to protect; to adorn; to parry) seems to be related as well.

The word gobo is one I haven’t come across before. It is defined by Wiktionary as:

“a disc placed between a light and the illuminated object or actor in order to diffuse the glare; a template inserted over a light source in order to control the shape of the thrown light; a device used to shield a microphone from extraneous sounds.”

Gobo may be an abbreviation of go between, goes before optics,or graphical optical black out [source].

Other names for devices attached to microphones to shield unwanted sounds include pop filter, condenser windscreen, windscreen pop filter, windjammer, microphone cover, microphone wind shield, microphone windscreen muff, and acoustic screen [source]. Some may be brand names.

Have you heard of gobos? Do you have other names for them?

Ladders and Schools

Ysgol ac ysgol - a school and a ladder

How are ladders and schools connected?

Well, in Welsh there is one word that means both ladder and school: ysgol [ˈəsgɔl].

The word ysgol, meaning ladder, comes from the Middle Welsh yscawl [ˈәsgaul] (ladder), from Latin scāla (ladder, stairs), from scandō (I climb, ascend, mount), from the the Proto-Indo-European *skend- (to jump).

Related words include:

– ysgol do/grib = roof-ladder
– ysgol raff = rope ladder
– ysgol ffenestr = window ladder
– ysgol bysgod = fish-ladder

The word ysgol, meaning school, comes from the Middle Welsh yscol (school), from the Latin schola (leisure time given to learning; schooltime; a school; a student body; an art gallery), from the Ancient Greek σχολή (skholḗ – leisure, free time, rest; lecture, disputation, discussion; philosophy; school, lecture hall).

Related words include:

– ysgol fabanod = nursery school
– ysgol feithrin = infant school
– ysgol gynradd/elfennol/fach = primary/elementary school
– ysgol uwchradd = secondary school
– ysgol gyfun = comprehensive school
– ysgol breswyl = boarding school
– ysgol hwyrol = night school
– ysgol Sul = Sunday school
– ysgol farddol = bardic school
– ysgol brofiad/profiad = school of life
– prifysgol = university, college, academy, seminary

A similar-sounding, though unrelated word is (y)sgôl [ˈəsgoːl] (squall; disaster, damage; disturbance, commotion, quarrel).

Sources: Wiktionary, Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru, Old and Middle Welsh

Diolch i Diana i awgrymu’r pwnc ‘ma.

Ounces, drams and pennyweights

Weighing scales

How many drams are there in an ounce?

If you are familiar with the British Imperial System of measurement, you might know that there are 16 drams (dr) to an ounce (oz), and 16oz to a pound (lb).

There is an even smaller unit, the grain: there are 27.344 grains to a dram, 437.5 to an ounce, and 7,000 to a pound.

I knew about pounds and ounces, but hadn’t come across drams before, except as a Scottish word for a measure of whisky. Grains are also new to me as a unit of measurement.

When talking about weight, particularly people’s weight, using the imperial system, the stone is used, at least in the UK (1 stone = 14 pounds). For example, you might weigh 9 stone 7 (pounds). In the USA you would say 133 pounds, and in metric it would be 60.3kg. So if you want to weigh less, just give your weight in stones and pounds.

The next unit after the stone is hundredweight (cwt). In the UK a (long) hundredweight = 112 pounds, and in the US a (short) hundredweight = 100 pounds. Then there are 20cwt in a ton, so a UK (long) ton 2,240 pounds (160 stone), and a US (short) ton is 2,000 pounds.

The above are known as avoirdupois measurements. To weigh precious metals, troy units are used: 1 pound = 12 ounces. 1 ounce = 20 pennyweight. 1 pennyweight = 24 grains. Slightly simpler, but still more complex than the metric system.

Avoirdupois comes from the Old French avoir + du + pois (good of weight)

Troy comes from Anglo-Norman via the Middle English troye, and is possibly named after Troyes, a town in France where such weights were first used.

Pound comes from the Old English pund (a pound, weight), from the Proto-Germanic *pundą (pound, weight), from the Latin pondō (by weight), the ablative form of pondus (weight), from the Proto-Indo-European *pend-, *spend- (to pull, stretch).

Ounce comes from the Middle French once (ounce, a little bit), from the Latin uncia (1/12 part), from ūnus (one).

Dram comes from the Old French dragme, from the Late Latin dragma, from the Ancient Greek δραχμή (drakhmḗ – unit of weight, a handful), from δράσσομαι (drássomai – I hold, seize).

Source: Wiktionary

Thanks for Ellen Jovin for inspiring this post.

Autos and bils

Yesterday I discovered that the Swedish for car is bil [biːl], which is related to the Icelandic bíll [bɪtl̥]. At first I wasn’t sure where these words came from, then realised that they are probably abbreviations of automobile.

The Swedish word does in fact come from automobil, according to Wiktionary. The same word is also found in Danish and Norwegian. In Faroese the word for car is simliar: bilur [ˈpiːlʊɹ].

The word automobile comes from the French automobile, from Ancient Greek αὐτός (autós – self) & the French mobile (moving), from the Latin mobilis (movable). In French this can be shortened to auto [source].

For details of the word car, see this post.

C’est inouï !

inOUi logo

The French exclamation C’est inouï ! means “It’s incredible!”.

The word inouï [inwi] means unprecedented, incredible, unheard-of, extraordinary, amazing. It is a combination of the negative prefix in- and ouï, which comes from ouïr (to hear, to listen), from the Old French oir (to hear, listen), from Latin audiō (I hear, listen, pay attention), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂ew-is-d-, a compound of *h₂ewis (clearly, manifestly) and *dʰh₁-ye/o- (to render) [source].

A friend told me last week that the TGV (le train à grande vitesse), France’s high-speed rail service, is being rebranded the inOui. In fact, inOui is the new name, introduced in 2017, for certain premium services on the TGV. All premium services will be known as inOUi by 2020. The name Ouigo was introduced for discount TGV services in 2013 [source].

The name inOui has been mocked and criticised by many.

Ouigo works in English as well (We go), but I’m sure English speakers will be joking about inOui, if they aren’t already.