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?

AreSpacesBetweenWordsImportant?

Did you know that the practice of putting spaces between words was started by Irish monks writing in Latin?

This is what I discovered from an episode of the Allusionist – apparently when Christianity arrived in Ireland in the 6th century and people started writing in Latin, they put spaces between the words to make texts easier to read. Before then writing in Ireland was done in the Ogham alphabet without spaces between words. So when they started using a different alphabet, the Latin or Roman alphabet, and a language that wasn’t their native one, they weren’t so sure where words began and ended and the spaces made this clear.

Ogham continued to be used to some extent until the 9th century and was used to write Latin, however the Latin alphabet eventually replaced it.

The version of the Latin alphabet used in Ireland until the mid-20th century was the Irish Uncial alphabet or An Cló Gaelach, which is still used for decorative purposes.

The practice of putting spaces between words spread to the rest of Europe over subsequent centuries.

Some languages, like Chinese and Thai, don’t bother with spaces, which can make them tricky to read.

Ditties, dictation and digits

A ditty is a short, simple song, like the ones I write. It comes from the Old French dite (composition), from the Latin dictatum (something dictated), from dictare (to dictate), a frequentative of dicere (to say, speak), which is related to dicare (to proclaim, dedicate), from the Proto-Indo-European root *deik- (to point out).

Some English words that come from the same root include dictate, diction, and digit, which came to be related to numbers as a result of counting on fingers. Other words that developed from this root include the Latin digitus (finger), the German zeigen, the Greek δίκη [díkê] (custom, right, judgement), and quite a few more.

The word teach also comes from the *deik-, via the Old English tæcan (to show, point out, declare, demonstrate; to give instruction, train, assign, direct; warn; persuade), from the Proto-Germanic *taikijan (to show).

Source: Online Etymology Dictionary, Oxford Dictionaries and the Indo-European Lexicon.

Awaken the Appetite

A ragout is a highly seasoned meat and vegetable stew, and comes from the French ragoût, which appears to be a general word for stew.

Ragoût comes from the Middle French ragoûter (to awaken the appetite), which comes from the Old French re- (back), à (to) and goût (taste), from the Latin gustum (taste), from gustare (to taste, take a little of) from the Proto-Indo-Etymology *gus-tu-, a form of the root *geus- (to taste, choose), which is the root of the English word choose, and the German word kosten (to taste of) [source].

Adumbrations

I came across a new word yesterday – adumbrations – which I had to look up in a dictionary as I couldn’t work out its meaning from the context:

Framed in the archway formed by the far end of the vaulted roof were the fantastical forms of five great gasometers, the supporting superstructures of which seemed in their adumbrations to be tangled impossibly with each other, like the hoops of an illusionist’s conjuring trick.

From The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, by Douglas Adams.

According to the Reverso dictionary, adumbration means

1. delineation, draft, indication, outline, rough, silhouette, sketch, suggestion

2. augury, forecast, foreshadowing, foretelling, omen, portent, prediction, prefiguration, prefigurement, presage, prognostication, prophecy, sign

3. bedimming, cloud, darkening, darkness, eclipse, eclipsing, obfuscation, obscuring, overshadowing, shadow

A related word is adumbrate, which means “to outline; give a faint indication of; to foreshadow; to overshadow; obscure.

It comes from the Latin word adumbratus (represented only in outline), from adumbrare (to cast a shadow on), from umbra (shadow) – obvious really!

Coasts and competitors

Arfordir

Sometimes when I see new words in English or other languages I can immediately break them down into their component parts and work out their roots, but other times I just accept words as whole entities without trying to work out their derivation.

One such word in Welsh is arfordir, which I hadn’t tried to analyse before. Last weekend, however, I was explaining some Welsh words to a friend who recently moved to Cardiff and who wants to learn Welsh, so I was in the right frame of mind, and the probable etymology of that word jumped out at me – ar (on, by) + môr (sea) + tir (land), so it’s “land by the sea” or the coast. This is correct, according to the Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru.

Another etymology I discovered today is the word competitor, which comes from the Middle French compétiteur (rival, competitor), from the Latin competītor (rival, competitor, adversary, opponent; plaintiff), from con (with) and petītor (seeker, striver, applicant, candidate, claimant, plaintiff, suitor, wooer).

Petītor comes from petere (to make, seek, aim at, desire, beg, beseech), from the Proto-Indo-European *peth₂- (to fall, fly), which is also the root of the English word petition, and the Spanish word pedir (to ask for) [source]

Fosses and Sextons

At the French Conversation Group last night one of the people had an old French language textbook from the 1950s which contains lots of stories in French. One of them contains the word “Le Fossoyeur” in the title, which is translated as “The Sexton”. As this wasn’t a word I’d come across before, I thought I’d find out more about it.

According to the Oxford Dictionaries, a sexton is:

A person who looks after a church and churchyard, typically acting as bell-ringer and gravedigger.

Sexton is a Middle English word that comes from the Anglo-Norman French segrestein, from medieval Latin sacristānus (sacristan), which comes from the Latin sacer/sacr- (sacred).

A sacristan is person in charge of a sacristy and its contents, and a sacristy is a “room in a church where a priest prepares for a service, and where vestments and articles of worship are kept.”

The French word fossoyeur can also mean “personne ou chose qui ruine, détruit” (sb or sth that ruins or destroys) [source], and comes from the word fosse (pit, grave), from the Latin fossa (ditch, trench), from fodiō (dig out, excavate) from the Proto-Indo-European Proto-Indo-European *bʰedʰ- (to pierce, dig) [source].

The word fosse / foss also exists in English and means a ditch or moat, but is rarely used, except by archaeologist, for whom it means “a long, narrow trench or excavation, especially in a fortification.” [source]. Fosse also appears in the name of the old Roman road from Lincoln to Exeter – the Fosse Way.

Two wheels left here will be removed

Latin & Greek sign

If you’ve ever wonder how you would tell people not to park their bicycles in Latin and Ancient Greek, as I’m sure you have, the sign in the photo shows you.

The Latin, Duae rotae hic relictae perimentur, apparently means “two wheels [cycles] left/abandoned here will be removed”.

The Greek, Εηθαδε αηφθεητες δυοκυκλοι διαφθαρνσονται, apparently means “Two wheels taken here will be destroyed”, which isn’t quite what it’s supposed to mean.

As there were no bicycles in ancient Rome and Greece, there were no words in Latin of Ancient Greek for them, so the they are translated as “duae rotae / δυοκυκλοι” (two wheels/cycles). Are these good translations?

The sign was put up in Portugal Place in Cambridge, and some comments on it called it elitist. Not everybody in Cambridge knows Latin or Greek, it seems, as photos of the sign show a bike parked under it. Have you seen any modern signs like this in ‘dead’ languages?

Source: BBC News

Vituperation

When searching for a translation of a Czech song we’re learning in the Bangor Community Choir I came across the word vituperated. It’s not one I’d heard or seen before, see I had to look it up. It means “to abuse or censure severely or abusively, to berate; to use harsh condemnatory language”. It comes from the Latin vituperatus, the past participle of vituperare, from vitium (fault) and parare (to make, prepare) [source].

The song in questions is called Okolo Hradišťa – here are the lyrics and a translation:

Okolo Hradišťa voděnka teče
Ide k nám šohajek, cosi ně nese
Nese ně lásku svázanú v šátku
Milovala sem ťa, zlatý obrázku.

Milovala sem ťa bylo to špásem
Nevěděl šohajek, že falešná sem
Falešná byla švarná dívčina
Nevěděl šohajek, jaká příčina

Ta moja príčina taková byla,
že mě mamulka velice lála.
Nelaj ně, mamko, ide k nám Janko,
mosím mu nachystat za širák pérko.

Source: http://www.karaoke-lyrics.net/lyrics/hradistan/okolo-hradista-185143

There is a stream of water flowing past Hradisca (a name of a village);
A boy is coming to us and he is bringing something for me;
He brings me his love, tied up in a scarf;
I loved you, my golden picture.

I loved you but it was just for fun,
the boy did not know that I am was not true to him.
The girl was false
and the boy did not know what was the reason for it.

My reason was
that my mum kept telling me off (vituperated me a lot).
Don’t tell me off (vituperate me), mother, Janko (boy’s name) is coming
I have to prepare a feather for him to put on his hat.

Sources: Proz.com and AllTheLyrics.com.

Here’s an arrangement of the song like the one we’re doing in choir (others are available):

I can’t find any information about Hradišťa/Hradisca. Does anybody know where it is?

Hedgehogs and Urchins

I discovered today that sea urchins (echinoidea) are known as zee-egels (sea hedgehogs) in Dutch, and that they used to be known as sea hedgehogs in English as well. They have similar names in other languages, for example, in German they are Seeigel (sea hedgehogs), in French they are oursins or hérissons de mer (sea hedgehogs) and in Spanish they are erizos de mar (sea hedgehogs).

The word urchin comes from the Middle English word yrichon (hedgehog), from the Old North French word *irechon, from the Old French herichun (hedgehog) – in Modern French hedgehog is hérisson – from the Vulgar Latin *hericionem, from the Latin ericius (hedgehog), from the Proto-Indo-European root *ghers- (to stiffen, bristle, stand out). From the same root we also get such English words as gorse, hirsute, horror and ordure.

The word urchin is apparently still used for hedgehog in some English dialects such as Cumbria, Yorkshire and Shropshire. It came to refer to people who looked or acted like hedgehogs from the early 16th century, and to poor, ragged youths from the mid 16th century, though this usage didn’t really take off until the late 18th century. Sea urchin was first used in the late 16th century.

Sources: Online Etymology Dictionary and Indo-European Lexicon