A Saturday Night Miscellany of Words

If you don't have the money or time to travel, one of the next best things is to study words that give you insight into another area of the world or culture. In addition, as you study the classical roots of so many of our words, your mind will be filled with so many pictures and possiblities that your communication can't help but be enhanced.

A Few Classically-Derived Terms

Let's begin with an example of the latter: solatium. We can see the word "solace" in it, and indeed solace is part of the definition. It can be anything that alleviates a loss, but it also, in Scots law, was a sum of money paid, over and above actual damages, to an injured party by the person who inflicted the injury, as a "solace" for wounded feelings. In American law it is known as an award for "pain and suffering" but I much prefer the Scots term. We often receive a solatium in the hour of disappointment. "Instead of the award he got the girl as a solatium, a prize which, in the long run, was the best anyone could have received."

I love the obsolete and rare term plorabund. At first it made me recall the German-derived plunderbund--a coalition of people getting together to fleece others--but its meaning is completely different. It derives from the Latin plorare, which means "to weep," and abundantia, and it is a person who cries excessively. We have plore in English, which means "to shed tears" or "to lament," even though the OED doesn't attest it in the last 390 years. But it makes implore come to life, doesn't it? To implore is to "invoke or entreat with tears." We have lost the "teary" part of it today, but that is its original signification. As to the derivation of explore, neither I (nor the OED nor the Oxford Latin Dictionary) can give a satisfactory explanation for why that word shouldn't have a "weepy" dimension to it... In any case, I think anyone who is a whiner, complainer, weeper, ought to receive the designation plorabund.

When I was looking up aristate, I came across Aristippus, who unwittingly bequeathed his name to a Canary Is. wine popular among English upper classes beginning in the 17th century. Aristippus was the founder of the Cyrenaics (his grandson, of the same name, was said to have systematized some of the Cyrenaic teaching), a group of people holding that immediate and unconstrained pleasure was the goal of human life. Whereas the Epicureans could even have a rather austere streak to them, for they knew how to postpone pleasure in order to increase it, the Cyrenaics supposedly just wanted to do it now! Though you would probably be given a blank stare if you went into even a sophisticated bar and ordered an "Aristippus," perhaps you will be emboldened by the name to research about him--reading the biography from Diogenes Laertius, entering then into the world of ancient biography, learning something about the formation of post-Socratic philosophical schools, etc. You will be enriched beyond whatever a glass of Aristippus could have afforded you.

By the way, aristate has nothing to do with the Greek word aristos, translated as the "best," whose most familiar gift to English is aristocrat and related words. In fact, it, an adjective, derives ultimately from the Latin noun arista, which is an "awn or beard of grain." Thus aristate means "awned; having a pointed, beard-like process, like that of barley." Ah, so take a long look at a stalk of barley and then imagine that its fluffy and pointed head is aristate in shape. In this essay I ruminate on several words in English that already express the idea of something pointed. Why do we need yet another such term in aristate? Well, I suppose it doesn't simply mean "pointed" but pointed in a barley-head type-of-way. Few and far-between will be the opportunites to use it..

Wandering Afield

Each day should consist of some classical enrichment combined with international words or ideas from the last few centuries. I suppose it also should include scientific terminology, though I won't get to some of these terms until the next essay.. Let's build a bridge between the classical and international worlds by mentioning mangonel. It is a term to describe a medieval siege engine which would throw stones and other missles against an enemy's position. It was like a trebuchet, differing only in that the latter, which was a technologically later development, was designed to be more of a "sling-shot" than the mangonel. The trebuchet would throw (burning sometimes) objects over city walls and into the town on the other side, while the mangonel would simply propel objects at the city wall, hoping to effect a breach. Both of these, as this article says, were made obsolete by the invention of gunpowder.

But it is not as if you get rid of mangonels and trebuchets overnight. At first gunpower was more of a curiosity and novelty than something that could be accurately directed at one's opponents. I bet, however, that after gunpowder became widesperead, there were people forming mangonel appreciation societies or some such thing in order to preserve this instrument of war that was "good enough for grandad."

A pishogue, derived from the Irish terms piseog, pisreog (which mean charm, spell or witchcraft), is a "spell, incantation, or charm." It could refer to an unlikely tale of the supernatural. This 1841 quotation captures it well: "Now a pishogue is a wise saw, a rural incantation, a charm, a sign, a cabalistic word, a something mysterious signifying a great deal in a little." Pick your definition and you have a pishogue. From 1998: "She was full of piseogs, like hanging a St. Brigid's cross near where she was doing the churning to ward off anyone stealing the butter." To mix languages, we could be ensorcelled by a pishogue. The "r" is sometimes added to it (pishrogue) to emphasize the "rogueish" or untrue nature of a story told about a divinity. From 1995: "Wasn't St. Patrick supposed to have sent them packing when he converted the country? Probably just another pishrogue."

Conclusion

When I mention krimmer, I am bringing us to Russia. You can (barely) see in the word something related to the Crimea (Russian Krym), a southern portion of Russia near the Black Sea. Indeed krimmer is a "gray or black fur made from the wool of young lambs in or near the Crimea." I found this article which neatly distinguishes the krimmer from the caracul (perhaps you never knew the two well enough to wonder how to distinguish them). Here is what it says about each:

"Krimmer. Cross-bred lambs of Persian type raised in the Ukraine, northern Russia, and Rumania produce the fur known as krimmer. The pelt of krimmer is smaller than the true Persian lamb ; the hair is looser and the luster less pronounced. Krimmer is naturally black or gray in color and rarely dyed."

So, I guess it isn't confined to the Crimea. But, what is a caracul?

"Caracul is a lamb pelt with a wavy, flat, open curl. China and Russia provide most of this fur, the astrakhan sheep producing a silky, lustrous pelt. Good caracul has a tight, firm curl and considerable luster, and it renders fair service. Caracul kidskin, from China, has the appearance of caracul lamb but is not a serviceable fur. Like broadtail, caracul is dyed black, brown, tan, and gray. The leg pieces and paws of caracul are used to make coats that are attractive but lack durability."

It goes on and on, but I can tell we are getting closer to a respectably-deep knowledge of our world...

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