We English speakers have heaps of ways to raise our voices. Here are a few:
Shout has been a part of the language since the 1200s & has meant to call or cry out loudly that whole time. Its source is unclear, but it may be the root of shoot (when shouting, one throws one voice, a bit like one might “throw” an arrow or bullet).
Yell has been a part of English since the beginning of English. It comes through Proto-Germanic from the Proto-Indo-European word *ghel-, which meant to shout out, sing or yell. We can see the sing meaning of *ghel- in the modern word nightingale, which causes me to appreciate that nightingales held onto this sing meaning of the word; nobody needs birds who yell.
The Old Norse word skrækja made its way into English in the 1200s as scrycke, which eventually became both the word screech, & the word shriek, meaning exactly that. Linguists are pretty sure it’s an imitative word.
Bellow appeared in English in the 1300s, meaning to roar. It came through Old English from a Proto-Indo-European word meaning the same thing.
A comparable late-comer to English is the word holler, meaning to shout. Holler didn’t appear until the 1690s, from an earlier form, hollar, which referred to the act of calling the hounds in from hunting. A later shade of meaning denoted a style of singing popular at the time in the American South. Holler shares its roots with the word hello.
The modern digital equivalent of YELLING may have first been established in John Irving’s 1989 book, A Prayer for Owen Meany.
Ideas? Comments? Reactions? Please leave them in the comments section. YELL if you must.
Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Collins English Dictionary, & Wordnik.com.
Over the years we English speakers have had many ways to say that something is truly fine. Here are a few of them.
1702 - tip-top - most excellent, as what is most excellent is top of the heap.
1811 - up to snuff - This idiom showed up some 160 years after the practice of inhaling powdered tobacco into the nose became all the rage in England. Its original meaning was sharp, wide awake, not easy to deceive, & most likely reflects the somewhat caffeine-like effects of snorting powdered tobacco.
1848 - top-notch - Etymologists assume this idiom may come from a game of some sort, but no one is certain. Like tip-top, top-notch denotes something that is most excellent.
1866 - hunky-dory - satisfactory, or just fine. Nobody’s certain of this idiom’s source. One school of etymologists thinks it may have come from the earlier word hunkey - also meaning satisfactory, which came from the word hunk, an inner-city New York slang term used to refer to home-base, a safe place during games like tag. Others suggest hunky-dory is a mispronunciation of Honcho dori, a street in Yokohoma, Japan, infamous for the sailorly diversions it offered. Both are intriguing & believable possibilities, but neither has been nailed down as fact.
1953 - peachy-keen, meaning most excellent. This figure of speech appears to have grown out of peachy, used to mean attractive since 1900, & keen, which in 1900 became a term of approval among the teenage population. Interestingly, keen is a word of many sometimes contradictory meanings: bold, brave, fearless, prudent, wise, able, eager, ardent, sharp, loud, shrill, biting, bitter, & cutting.
What other ways do you know of verbally approving of something? Please leave your examples in the comments section.
Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Collins English Dictionary ,& Wordnik.com.
My affinity for old dictionaries should be no surprise to Wordmonger followers. Sadly, I can find no Old Dictionary Appreciation Day, Week, or Month, so I’ve decided to unilaterally proclaim the first week of May “Old Dictionary Appreciation Week.”
An element I greatly appreciate in older dictionaries is the “synonym” feature which closes the occasional entry. This feature takes similar words or terms & parses out the shades of meaning. Here are two synonym entries from my 1959 Webster’s New World Dictionary:
“Intelligent implies the ability to learn or understand from experience or to respond successfully to a new experience; clever implies quickness in learning or understanding, but sometimes connotes a lack of thoroughness or depth; alert emphasizes quickness in sizing up a situation; bright and smart are somewhat informal, less precise equivalents for any of the preceding; brilliant implies an unusually high degree of intelligence; intellectual suggests keen intelligence coupled with interest and ability in the more advanced fields of knowledge.
Laugh is the general word for the sounds or exhalation made in expressing mirth, amusement, etc.; chuckle implies soft laughter in low tones, expressive of mild amusement or inward satisfaction; giggle and titter both refer to a half-suppressed laugh consisting of a series of rapid, high-pitched sounds, suggesting embarrassment, silliness, etc, but titter is also used of a laugh of mild amusement, suppressed in affected politeness; snicker is used of a sly, half-suppressed laugh, as at another's discomfiture or a bawdy story; guffaw refers to loud, coarse laughter.
Is that poetry, or what?
Good followers, what bits of dictionaries do you fancy?
My thanks go out to this week’s source, Webster’s 1959 New World Dictionary of the American Language
It might be said that an unfortunate soul in a precarious situation “doesn’t have a prayer.” But who knew that the words precarious & prayer are kissing cousins (etymologically speaking)?
Their common ancestor is *prek-, Proto-Indo-European for ask or request. In time it became the Latin word precari, to beg, entreat, or ask earnestly. By the 1200s precari made its way into English (after a brief sojourn in France) as pray. Initially, pray meant simply to ask earnestly or beg. Within the next hundred years it began to mean pray to a god or saint.
During its stay in Latin, precari developed another form, precarius, a legal term meaning held through the favor of another (based on the idea that one might beg or entreat another for help). This form came to English about 1640. Because dependence on another can be risky business, by 1680 this legal term gained common usage meaning risky because of one’s dependence on others. Linguistic sticklers argue that precarious continues to have only this original meaning, & that most of us misuse the poor word. However, modern dictionaries idenitfy 4-5 generally risky definitions before listing the meaning dependent on others under the heading “archaic.”
Prayer & precarious — kissing cousins.
In the comments section I’d love to hear whether any of you knew about this connection. It certainly surprised me.
Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Collins English Dictionary,& Wordnik.com.Image from Killapocolypse.deviantart.com.
There are heaps of words we can use to define our state when we’re feeling out of sorts. Many of them have unknown origins.
In 1727 one could be in a tiff, meaning quarrelsome or petty irritation. Though no one is certain of tiff’s source, it may have be an imitative word for the sound of a sigh or puff of air.
In 1922 the word tizzy was born. Like tiff, nobody really knows its source, but some etymologists argue it may have grown out of the earlier term, tizzy, meaning sixpence piece, slang for the first coin minted with the profile of a head on it, taken from the Latin word testa, meaning head.
In 1939 the word snit came into the world, meaning a state of agitation or fit of temper. It appeared first in the play Kiss the Boys Good-bye by Clair Boothe Luce. Nobody knows its source.
Though the word hissy has been with us since 1905, hissy fit (meaning a dramatic tantrum) didn’t appear until 1983. Both hissy & hissy fit come from the word hiss, which has been around since the 1300s. Like tiff, hiss is onomatopoeic.
Since the 1530s, a fit of ill feeling has been referred to as pique (or a fit of pique). This comes from a Middle French word which meant irritation or sting.
When one takes offense, one might be miffed. This form of miff got rolling in 1797. But miff first showed up in English much earlier in 1620. At that time miff was a noun meaning fit of ill humor. It appears to be another onomatopoeic word based on an exclamation of disgust.
In the 1590s a pother was a disturbance or commotion. Nobody knows where this word came from, & by the 1640s to be in a pother meant one was flustered or irritated.
In the 1600s, one who quaked or trembled could be said to be in a dither. Dither came from the Middle English word didderen, which has no known source. By 1819 folks who were anxious & flustered were said to be in a dither.
Speaking of things that get one in a dither, if bias & propaganda can give you a hissy fit, consider this excellent Anti-Racism Daily article on careful word usage.
These terms aren’t heard as much as they once were. If you could bring one back into popular usage, which would you choose?
Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Collins English Dictionary,& Wordnik.com.
There are heaps of ways we refer to something being speedy or needing to be speedier. Here are a few:
-quick as a bunny
-in three shakes of a lamb's tail (only two shakes in the UK)
-quick as a wink
-in the blink of an eye
-in a flash
-quick as lightning
-get the lead out
Here are some for which I could find source information:
-fast track (1934 from horse racing)
-pronto (1850) from Spanish &/or Italian from a word meaning prompt
-breakneck (1560s) moving so fast one is likely to break one’ s neck
-giddy up (1909) a mispronunciation of get up, also spelled gee-hup, gee-up & giddap.
-flat-out — most likely from horse-racing when horse & jockey flatten out to decrease wind resistance
-posthaste (1530s) with great speed - a request written on the envelopes of letters
-lickety-split (1852) most likely based on lick - a speedy sprint while racing - also lickety-cut, lickety-click, & licketie — probably related to quick as a lick
-faster than you can say "Jack Robinson" has numerous proposed sources, none of them confirmed, but all intriguing:
-Jack Robinson was US Secretary of the Treasury in the late 1700s & was able to get things done speedily in Congress
-another Jack Robinson was constable of the Tower of London, responsible for quickly successive beheadings
-another Jack Robinson was an English gentleman well-known for speedy changes of opinion
Have you got a favorite idiom regarding speediness, or did any of these sources surprise you? If so, please let me know in the comments section.
Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Answers.com, ,& Wordnik.com. Image from Grumpy Goat Tattoo..
So how is it that one little four-letter word can be used in all these ways?
Ramon was fast asleep.
Irene’s car is fast.
Selma broke her fast.
Luigi held fast to Wanda’s hand.
Agatha indulged in fast living.
And how is the word shamefaced possibly related?
It all started with the Proto-Indo-European word fasto, which meant firmly, strongly, very.
This word made its way into Old English as faeste, which meant firmly, securely, strictly.
When fasto made its way into Old Norse, it became fast, meaning firmly, strongly, vigorously.
The speedy meaning of fast most likely came from the vigorous sense of fast in Old Norse, though it may have come from the idea of the second-place runner holding fast to the runner before him/her. During the 1700s, this meaning of fast gave birth to the idea of fast living.
The meaning, withholding food, comes from an Old English word born of the hold firmly meaning. Someone who fasts shows firm control of him/herself.
The hold tight meaning of fast grew from the firmly/securely meaning, as did the idea of being fast asleep.
And shamefaced? This word was originally pronounced & spelled shamefast, reflecting the idea that one’s shame was stuck fast. Our modern word shamefaced came from a misunderstanding of the the original word.
Any thoughts about all this fastness? Please leave them in the comments section.
Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, & Wordnik.com.
In written Old English the word dream meant one thing and one thing only: make a joyful noise. Other written records suggest our modern meaning of dream may have been spoken by Old English speakers, but by the time Middle English ruled, the modern meaning of dream took a several-century snooze.
Along the way, the noun dream & its cognates picked up and then lost some intriguing meanings which include but aren’t limited to:
-joy, pleasure, gladness, mirth, rejoicing
-a cherished desire
-deception, illusion, phantasm
-a train of thoughts, images or fancies passing through the mind during sleep
-a fancy voluntarily indulged in while awake
-a state of abstraction or trance
-a wild fancy or hope
And those are only the nouns. Dream’s verb forms deserve an entry of their own.
If you've got two whole minutes, consider checking out the dreamy fingerstyle guitar work of the amazing Sungha Jung, playing his original song, Dreaming.
So, which of the above meaning(s) would you like to infiltrate your dreams?
Thanks to this week’s sources, etymonline.com, the OED, & carl-jung.net & wordnik.com.
Steep & stoop
It seems reasonable that these words might come from the same root:
steep the tea
hang out on the stoop
However, only three of them share a root.
The verb steep (to soak in liquid) made its way into English in the early 1300s. Though nobody is certain of its source, it may have come from a Norse word meaning to pour.
The noun stoop (raised platform at the front or back of a house or apartment), appeared in English in 1755 from a Dutch word meaning a flight of steps.
The three words that share a source are the verb stoop, the adjective steep, & the noun steeple. They all come from a Proto-Indo-European word meaning to push or knock. A version of this root made its way into northern European languages meaning to bow or bend, & then into Old English as the verb stoop. Another form of this root came to mean high & lofty (possibly due to the idea that a mountain is pushed up from the surrounding soil). This form of the root found itself becoming both the adjective steep & the noun steeple.
It nearly causes one to want to stoop to steep one’s tea on one’s stoop, then climb up to enjoy the tea atop a steep steeple, eh?
Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED.
All it takes is a brief glance through the newspaper to confirm that fiascos happen. So this week we’ll explore fiasco & some of its synonyms.
Fiasco appeared in English in 1855. It was theater talk for turkey, dismal flop, or failure. It comes through French from Italian word for bottle. Many theories exist to explain why we might call a flop on stage a bottle, but none of the theories can be proven. Today fiasco refers to any sort of failure, whether on-stage or off.
Some fiascos in the news take the form of mayhem, a word that showed up in English in the 1400s through Anglo-French from an Old French legal term meaning to maim an opponent enough that he can no longer defend himself. And yes, this same Old French word also gave us the verb maim.
We call a noisy commotion or uproar a hullabaloo. This word came through northern England &/or Scotland to land in English in the late 1700s. Though nobody’s certain, most etymologists believe hullabaloo may be a tweaking of the greeting, hello.
A bustle, tumult or fuss can be referred to as a fracas, a word that showed up in English in 1727. It came through Italian from a Latin verb meaning to shake.
In 1890 the word brouhaha (meaning an uproar or fuss) made its way into English from French. Though the connection is lost on me, most etymologists believe it may have come from the Hebrew phrase, “barukh habba,” which means blessed be the one who comes.
From Scottish through Canadian English we have the word kerfuffle, meaning a commotion, or disturbance. Kerfuffle first appeared on the scene in the 1930s.
And we have rumpus (1764) & ruckus (1890), both meaning an uproar or disturbance. Though nobody’s sure where either of these words originated, it appears ruckus grew out of rumpus.
Which of these words best fits to news you read or saw today? Chime in by clicking on “comments” below.
Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED.
I write for teens, narrate audio books, bake bread, play music, and ponder the wonder of words in a foggy little town on California's central coast.