Surely linguists have studied the phenomenon of words taking on a different meaning because they sound like they should mean something else: "coruscating," or "bemused." "Bemused" is an easy one along those lines, but there is something about the hard Cs in "coruscating" that sound caustic or, well, scathing.
(I'll pass over the news about capitalizing a letter after a colon because I'm not looking to get blocked this early in the game.)
I could also have added the redefinition of hoi polloi to mean "fancy people" because people think it sounds like "hoity-toity," but I'll save that, and a larger discussion including the meaning of "hoi," for another entry.
(Good thinking. 😉)
Also, thank you for another thoughtful comment. Your engagement reminds me that my hard work, in the immortal words of the great Lina Lamont, ain't been in vain for nothing.
Your work brings a little joy into my humdrum life, so I'm grateful.
I spent five minutes looking for scholarly works on shifts in word meaning due to onomatopoetic causes, but found nothing, though I did find an episode of Merriam-Webster's podcast talking about onomatopoeia that looks intriguing. It feels like there must be work on this subject if I could only figure out the right keywords, but it also feels like this kind of obsession explains why my life is humdrum.
Amo, amas, amat. Amamus, amatis, amant. Now you're as fluent as I am. Jokes, aside, a passing knowledge of Latin has been very helpful in determining the meanings of words when I encounter them for the first time. And for remembering that a meretrix was not only flashy, but out of the reach of the hoi polloi; rather like a high end call girl. Truly a woman of the night, they did not ply their trade during the daytime.
“By the bye” is lovelier to me because it hews closer to its etymology. Wind and sea and all that. But if one uses “by the bye,” must one also use “bye and large”? And is it “sails close-hauled” or “sails close hauled”? (I think I may be blocked for an earlier comment, but I do hope that ye olde CMOS updates its guidelines on hyphenation in the predicate. May the grammar gods bless us.)
As no one ever seems to use "bye and large," I guess we can safely say: Don't use it. And I'm in favor of "sails close-hauled," which is vastly easier to read/comprehend than the hyphenless version.
Speaking of bys and byes, this brought back a conversation I had with my program director at a small midwestern radio station back in the 70s regarding the script for a commercial; we argued for what seemed like hours as to whether it was "passerbys" or "passersby." Because I was a lowly weekend jock with merely a college degree, my plea for passersby was rejected; he read the commercial with passerbys, it aired, people called in to complain (big university town) and I quit soon after over some other issue. But I do remember the argument. Looking forward to changes in my colons!
I know that it is occasionally sneered at as a gendered adjective (I disagree, I apply it to everyone), but I'm highly impressed with, besides your erudition, your feistiness.
CMS or not, I've been capitalizing the first word of a full sentence following a colon for my entire publishing career, since the late 1980s. It's about time those editors realized that we were correct all along.
As so often is the case, I find myself making a long arm and pulling down a copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes, where I've often discovered such charming and relevant old-timey words.
In the case of meretricious, I recall it first piqued my interest in the opening paragraphs of "The Dancing Men":
“You see, my dear Watson”—he propped his test-tube in the rack and began to lecture with the air of a professor addressing his class—“it is not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, each dependent upon its predecessor and each simple in itself. If, after doing so, one simply knocks out all the central inferences and presents one’s audience with the starting-point and the conclusion, one may produce a startling, though possibly a meretricious, effect. Now, it was not really difficult, by an inspection of the groove between your left forefinger and thumb, to feel sure that you did not propose to invest your small capital in the goldfields.”
I can't really say for sure whether I think that ACD is a good writer, as writers go, but good gosh do I enjoy reading him. (Which I guess makes him a good writer, but you know what I mean, I bet.)
I certainly do. Character development wasn't his thing, but his descriptions of settings were post-Victorian (thank G-d!) but not sparse. There's a reason Daniel Stashower titled his biography Teller of Tales, I suppose.
Related: Yesterday I just received my copy of This Work of Storytelling: Arthur Conan Doyle's Speech to the Author's Club London, June 29, 1896. I'm looking forward to discovering what he had to say at the midpoint of his career.
Oh, ha, and thank you. Footnotes are one of my major tics, but I promised myself that in substacking I was mostly just gonna do what I naturally do without a lot of reining in, so: Here we are.
I once thought I came up with a new word too, but alas, effectuate had already been used when years later I heard Rachel Maddow use it on her show! Darn you, Rachel!!! 🤣
I haven’t stopped thinking about this post about using the right dictionary since I read it: https://jsomers.net/blog/dictionary. The tips on downloading are excellent, but what I wouldn’t give for a hard copy…
It seems like phonosthemes could be a source of some of this confusion. At any rate, Steven, if you haven't delved into that fun little area yet, you're gonna love it. And then start seeing it everywhere.
“…rambunctious toddler clobbering the local cat…” Now every time I see someone misuse language, I will have an image in my head of the book or screen striking out with claws against the malefactor. I quite enjoy that image.
At the opening of the 1962 novel Gambit, detective Nero Wolfe burns Webster's New International Dictionary, Unabridged, 3rd Edition, page by page, because he considered it subversive to the integrity of the English language. The only specific example he mentions is that it said that infer and imply could be used interchangeably.
Surely linguists have studied the phenomenon of words taking on a different meaning because they sound like they should mean something else: "coruscating," or "bemused." "Bemused" is an easy one along those lines, but there is something about the hard Cs in "coruscating" that sound caustic or, well, scathing.
(I'll pass over the news about capitalizing a letter after a colon because I'm not looking to get blocked this early in the game.)
I could also have added the redefinition of hoi polloi to mean "fancy people" because people think it sounds like "hoity-toity," but I'll save that, and a larger discussion including the meaning of "hoi," for another entry.
(Good thinking. 😉)
Also, thank you for another thoughtful comment. Your engagement reminds me that my hard work, in the immortal words of the great Lina Lamont, ain't been in vain for nothing.
Your work brings a little joy into my humdrum life, so I'm grateful.
I spent five minutes looking for scholarly works on shifts in word meaning due to onomatopoetic causes, but found nothing, though I did find an episode of Merriam-Webster's podcast talking about onomatopoeia that looks intriguing. It feels like there must be work on this subject if I could only figure out the right keywords, but it also feels like this kind of obsession explains why my life is humdrum.
Meretrix brought me back to extra credit explorations of Latin in 8th grade.
I wish I'd been taught Latin or Greek when I was a pup, but alas... (Yes, I know, it's never too late.)
Amo, amas, amat. Amamus, amatis, amant. Now you're as fluent as I am. Jokes, aside, a passing knowledge of Latin has been very helpful in determining the meanings of words when I encounter them for the first time. And for remembering that a meretrix was not only flashy, but out of the reach of the hoi polloi; rather like a high end call girl. Truly a woman of the night, they did not ply their trade during the daytime.
“By the bye” is lovelier to me because it hews closer to its etymology. Wind and sea and all that. But if one uses “by the bye,” must one also use “bye and large”? And is it “sails close-hauled” or “sails close hauled”? (I think I may be blocked for an earlier comment, but I do hope that ye olde CMOS updates its guidelines on hyphenation in the predicate. May the grammar gods bless us.)
As no one ever seems to use "bye and large," I guess we can safely say: Don't use it. And I'm in favor of "sails close-hauled," which is vastly easier to read/comprehend than the hyphenless version.
See also: scarify, -ing.
Speaking of bys and byes, this brought back a conversation I had with my program director at a small midwestern radio station back in the 70s regarding the script for a commercial; we argued for what seemed like hours as to whether it was "passerbys" or "passersby." Because I was a lowly weekend jock with merely a college degree, my plea for passersby was rejected; he read the commercial with passerbys, it aired, people called in to complain (big university town) and I quit soon after over some other issue. But I do remember the argument. Looking forward to changes in my colons!
Well, good for you decades later! I applaud your correctness and your persistence.
Meretrix means prostitute, so — at least from an etymological perspective — your choice of words was probably in target.
on target. sorry!
One's fingers are so often quicker than one's thoughts; I'm right with ya.
🫢
Thank you for "nuantial"! I'm happy to have a name for the principle I fought for here: https://github.com/lando/lando/pull/1835
I eventually won that battle: https://github.com/lando/lando/pull/2000.
I know that it is occasionally sneered at as a gendered adjective (I disagree, I apply it to everyone), but I'm highly impressed with, besides your erudition, your feistiness.
CMS or not, I've been capitalizing the first word of a full sentence following a colon for my entire publishing career, since the late 1980s. It's about time those editors realized that we were correct all along.
As so often is the case, I find myself making a long arm and pulling down a copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes, where I've often discovered such charming and relevant old-timey words.
In the case of meretricious, I recall it first piqued my interest in the opening paragraphs of "The Dancing Men":
“You see, my dear Watson”—he propped his test-tube in the rack and began to lecture with the air of a professor addressing his class—“it is not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, each dependent upon its predecessor and each simple in itself. If, after doing so, one simply knocks out all the central inferences and presents one’s audience with the starting-point and the conclusion, one may produce a startling, though possibly a meretricious, effect. Now, it was not really difficult, by an inspection of the groove between your left forefinger and thumb, to feel sure that you did not propose to invest your small capital in the goldfields.”
I can't really say for sure whether I think that ACD is a good writer, as writers go, but good gosh do I enjoy reading him. (Which I guess makes him a good writer, but you know what I mean, I bet.)
I certainly do. Character development wasn't his thing, but his descriptions of settings were post-Victorian (thank G-d!) but not sparse. There's a reason Daniel Stashower titled his biography Teller of Tales, I suppose.
Related: Yesterday I just received my copy of This Work of Storytelling: Arthur Conan Doyle's Speech to the Author's Club London, June 29, 1896. I'm looking forward to discovering what he had to say at the midpoint of his career.
https://wessexpress.com/html/Miranker2.html
Worth reading for the delightful use of footnotes.
Oh, ha, and thank you. Footnotes are one of my major tics, but I promised myself that in substacking I was mostly just gonna do what I naturally do without a lot of reining in, so: Here we are.
I loved reading your book as much for the footnotes as anything else. Nobody does footnotes better
I’ve long been fond of “pinchbeck” or “gimcrack” for things that one might call meretricious but for their lack of allure.
Once, when writing about the late Mrs. Reagan, I believe I managed to include both, along with, if memory serves, both a “tawdry” and a “tinpot.”
Oh, those are great words. Must use!
I once thought I came up with a new word too, but alas, effectuate had already been used when years later I heard Rachel Maddow use it on her show! Darn you, Rachel!!! 🤣
Is it greater or lesser consolation to know that "effectuate" has been knocking around since the 16th century?
Here’s mud in my eye! 😆
And yet a valiant effort!
I haven’t stopped thinking about this post about using the right dictionary since I read it: https://jsomers.net/blog/dictionary. The tips on downloading are excellent, but what I wouldn’t give for a hard copy…
There are of course limits to the usefulness of a century-old dictionary. My mainstay is Merriam-Webster (https://www.merriam-webster.com, to be sure), which I find to be thorough in both definitions and etymology, and The Free Dictionary (https://www.thefreedictionary.com) also has its charms. I also make frequent use of this: https://www.etymonline.com
It seems like phonosthemes could be a source of some of this confusion. At any rate, Steven, if you haven't delved into that fun little area yet, you're gonna love it. And then start seeing it everywhere.
*phonesthemes*
“…rambunctious toddler clobbering the local cat…” Now every time I see someone misuse language, I will have an image in my head of the book or screen striking out with claws against the malefactor. I quite enjoy that image.
At the opening of the 1962 novel Gambit, detective Nero Wolfe burns Webster's New International Dictionary, Unabridged, 3rd Edition, page by page, because he considered it subversive to the integrity of the English language. The only specific example he mentions is that it said that infer and imply could be used interchangeably.