Reading the OED--Fourth Essay--Final Words

The five words remaining to be exposited don't seem quite as interesting at first blush as previous words: apricity, bouffage, father-waur, ignotism, introuvable. Let's begin with father-waur. Actually, the Scots had two old words/phrases, father-better and father-waur, which meant the opposite. Someone who is father-better is, predictably enough, "better than one's father." From 1645: "Her glowing sonne, whom I pray God to bless, and make father-better." Each dad, who truly loves and cares for his children, wishes them to be "father-better." The word waur means, simply "worse." So, father-waur, or father war, means "worse than one's father" or "degenerate." But since there are only about 6 Google results for father-waur, and since I have most of them, I won't say anything more about it here.

Introuvable and Bouffage

French-derived words always trip up a large number of spellers at bees. Introuvable was spelled correctly at the Kids Bee this year, however, and it sounds so cool to pronounce (ahn tru VABL), that no one should miss it. Literally it means "unfindable," and it can be used with almost any thing that can be placed or misplaced. Indeed, if you do a "Google search" online for French web pages that don't exist, you get a message "page introuvable." One can have books that are introuvable, hotels that are introuvable or even introuvable kingdoms. Introuvable isn't listed in the Century, but it appears in the OED and the Unabridged (of course it isn't in the Collegiate). The first English attestation (1824) had no reference to books (the frequent meaning now): "We are by no means of the opinion that it [sc. a correct standard of national prosperity] is really introuvable." Rather than seething when we misplace or lose something, why not just look up, perhaps a little sheepishly, and say "Mon Dieu, introuvable!"

Bouffage can be explained even more easily. It simply is a satisfying meal. It is derived from the Old French, "any meat that (eaten greedily) fills the mouth, and makes the cheeks to swell." To paraphrase a 1672 quotation: "His inwards and flesh remaining could make no bouffage for the greedly swirling carrion, but only a light bit for the grave." Only the OED, of the four dictionaries I regularly consult, has it.

Ignotism

Ignotism, a mistake due to ignorance, is interesting in itself but it lives in a neighborhood that is almost as fascinating as Mr. Rogers'. It is derived from the Latin ignotus, meaning "unknown," but its more common neighbor is ignote. An ignote is an unknown person, but ignote may also be an adjective, meaning "unknown" or "obscure." Sometimes there are relatively ignote pretenders to the crown, whether that crown be a tennis or spelling championship. As a noun, ignote appeared in a 1639 translation of Sirach (Ecclesiasticus): "Leave not a proved freind; for an Ignote Comes but at hazard." The OED gives the reference as Ecclesiasticus 9:33, but there is no such verse; it meant to say "Ecclus. 9:10," and a modern translation would run, "Do not abandon old friends, for new ones (i.e., ignotes) cannot equal them." We might also say, "The letter was written by an ignote."

You don't have to go too far, however, to find ignoscible, which derives from the Latin ignoscere and means "pardonable." "Having committed an ignoscible offense, Marv Albert was then received back into the good graces of the television network. We all quickly forgot that he was 'walking 'round in women's underwear...'" Finally, derived from this word is ignoscency, which means "forgiveness" or "forgiving spirit." "And become as little children..in simplicity, humility, innocency, ignoscency."

Apricity

Apricity is defined as the "warmness of the sun in winter," but much more needs to be said about it to make sense or at least to be able to use the term. Apricate, which has nothing to do with apricots, means "to bask in the sun." As a transitive verb it means "to expose to sunlight." The Century hypothesizes that apricus ('open to the sun, sunny') is probably derived from apericus, the Latin word for "open." An aperient, for example, opens certain bodily parts... Two sentences illustrate the meaning of apricate. From 1697: "His lordship was wont to recreate himself in this place, to apricate and contemplate." And, "to apricate and refresh old gouty systems and old traditions." "The teenager was outside apricating while the rest of the family was doing chores inside."

The following note from 1704 casts a humorous light on apricate, which shows it as obsolete even in those days: "Cesar, I think, said that 'verbum insolens tanquam scopulum fugiendum est,'" or "insolent as well as dangerous words must be avoided." But then the quotation goes on to say: "I'll name you one or two, to Apricate, suscepted, vesicate." To vesicate means to form a boil or blister, and suscept means to "take up," even though neither suscept or suscepted is in the OED. So, as early as 1704, someone at least felt that apricate wasn't very useful. Yet, OW Holmes, Sr. could use aprication in this sentence:

"The luxury and benefit of aprication, or immersion in the sunshine bath.."

Maybe we all need a bit more time for aprication, even if it isn't the healthiest thing for us.

Conclusion

My mind tends to wander, even when I get to the end of an essay. For example, looking across the page from aprication in the Century, I ran across appui (ap WEE), which means "a support, stay, or prop." "If a vine be to climb trees that are of any great height, there would be stays and appuies set to it. The phrase point d'appui indicates a "point of support," or that point at which troops form, and on which operations are based. "We gathered at the point d'appui to receive instructions on how to approach the foe." And, we could go on and on, as you know. But, we are making progress, real and visible progress.

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