This Wednesday’s New York Times had an article by Peter Meehan ("Two Parts Vodka, a Twist of Science") that used the term molecular mixology, the practice of applying knowledge of chemistry and cooking techniques to make distinctive cocktailsI almost wrote original instead of distinctive, except that it seems most of these new cocktails are variants of old classics, like the Martini, instead of being new creations. The term was new to me, so I looked for its origin.Read the rest of the article...
Sit, Google, Sit
Objections in China over the name Google has chosen for itself in Mandarin. An online petition is circulating asking Google drop the name Guge. The name Guge is represented by the Chinese ideograms for harvest and song, or it can mean valley song or grain song. Chinese users of the search engine believe it has rural or traditional connotations, the opposite image the high-tech giant should be trying to cultivate.
A survey of Chinese internet users last year by the China Internet Network Information Company found that over half of the respondents failed to spell Google correctly. The search engine company is trying to counter this by pairing its English name with the Chinese name.
Some have suggested that Google be known as gougou, or dog dog. A suggestion that Google flatly rejects. Others suggest the English-Chinese blend Good gou, or good dog, in acknowledgement of Google’s behavior toward the Chinese government.
(Source: Straits Times, 22 & 30 April 2006)
Immigrants & The English Language
This past Monday was A Day Without An Immigrant, a one-day strike by immigrant workers, both legal and illegal, to demonstrate the economic importance of immigrant labor in the United States and to protest a bill passed by the House of Representatives that would make illegal immigration a felony.
This past week also saw a stir over a Spanish-language version of the national anthem, with many believing it is unpatriotic to sing the song in any language other than English.
As this newsletter is about language, this week we look at a couple of myths and misconceptions about immigrants and the English language.
For those of you that have not dined in a really fancy restaurant lately, a charger plate is a large dish that is on the table when you are seated and other plates and dishes are placed, or loaded, on top of it.
The word first appears as the Middle English chargeour in the c.1305 work Legends of the Holy Rood:
I was that cheef chargeour, I bar flesch for folkes feste.
(I was that chief charger, I bore meat for the people’s feast.)
The root in French is uncertain. It is either the Anglo-Norman chargeour meaning that which loads or the Old French chargeoir meaning a serving utensil.
(Source: Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd Edition)
A chairman is the leader of a committee or parliamentary body. The origin is, as one might guess, a compound of the words chair + man. The chair is a reference to a seat or position of authority and the man is, of course, a reference to the person who occupies it. The word dates to 1654 when it appears in John Trapp’s Commentary of the Book of Job:
I sate chief, and was Chair-man.
In more recent times the word has come under criticism for being sexist as not all such leaders are male. A backlash by those who want to preserve the old patterns of speech has resulted in some propagating a false etymology that states the -man is not a reference to a person at all and is, therefore, not sexist. This ill-informed view states that the -man comes from the Latin manus, meaning hand, that the chairman is the hand of the one sitting in the chair guiding the meeting. This is complete bunk.
(Source Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd Edition)
A Caesarean section, also spelled Caesarian or Cesarean and often without the upper case C, is the surgical delivery of a child. It is a term with an interesting etymology and lots of associated folklore.
The term comes from the name of Julius Caesar, who according to legend was delivered by this method. From R. Jonas’s 1540 translation of Roesslin’s Byrth of Mankynde:
They that are borne after this fashion be called cesares, for because they be cut out of theyr mothers belly, whervpon also the noble Romane cesar the .j. of that name in Rome toke his name.
Although this is where the term Caesarean comes from, this legend about Julius’s birth is almost certainly false. While surgical deliveries were known in ancient Rome, they invariably resulted in the death of the mother and Julius’s mother, Aurelia, lived well into her son’s adulthood. It is possible that one of Julius’ ancestors was delivered in this fashion and bequeathed the name to the family. Although Pliny reports that the name comes from caesaries, or hair, as the future dictator of Rome was born with a full head of hair.
The term Caesarian section dates to 1615, first appearing in Helkiah Crooke’s A Description of the Body of Man.
This phrase, meaning a situation where two bureaucratic regulations frustrate one another, comes from the 1961 novel of that name by Joseph Heller:
There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.
“That’s some catch, that Catch-22,” he observed.
“It’s the best there is,” Doc Daneeka agreed.
Within ten years of the novel’s publication, the term was being used generally. From the March 1971 Atlantic Monthly:
In the opinion of many sociologists, the "combination of diagnosis, evaluation, treatment and classification" so highly rated by Dr. Karl Menninger is in fact the Catch-22 of modern prison life.
Heller originally titled his novel Catch-18, but at the request of his publisher changed it. Leon Uris had just published Mila-18 and the publisher did not want confusion between the two books.
(Sources: Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd Edition)
capital / capitol
The words capitol and capital seem to be very similar, but they are from different Latin roots.
The more general term, capital, has various senses, meaning punishable by death, principal, a seat of government, and wealth used in an investment. It first appears in Middle English in the 13th century and comes, via Old French, from the Latin capit?lus. The Latin root, caput, means head or money paid out. (This Latin root is unrelated to the German kaputt, meaning broken.)
Antedating: General For Attorney General
Back in the issue of 31 March, I stated that the practice of addressing the US attorney general as general dated to the Clinton administration. Hugh Rawson has written me with an antedating of the term to the Nixon administration and Attorney General John Mitchell. In his book Blind Ambition, John Dean quotes G. Gordon Liddy as saying to Mitchell on 27 January 1972, "Now, General, this operation will be equipped with its own operational arm."
Good Words For Good Friday
This Good Friday we take a look at some of the words associated with Easter and Lent. There are a lot of good, old words in the names of various holidays of this season that survive as relics from the language of yore.
The period preceding Easter on the church calendar is Lent. It’s a period of fasting and penitence that encompasses the 40 weekdays from Ash Wednesday to Easter. Lent, or as it was known earlier, Lenten, is from the Old English lencten, which was the name of the season we now call spring. Lencten dates to around 1000 with the religious sense appearing around 1290. Today, only the religious sense survives.
Copyright 1997-2014, by David Wilton