A Certain Je Ne Sais Quoi : The Origin of Foreign Words Used in English Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright Page

  Epigraph

  Introduction

  A

  B

  C

  D

  E

  F

  G

  H

  I

  J

  K

  L

  M

  N

  O

  P

  Q

  R

  S

  T

  U

  V

  W

  Y

  Z

  A brief list of sources

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The author wishes to thank Matt Hibberd, John Rhodes, Cassie Kite, Kerry Chapple, and Lindsay Davies. Thanks also to Dan Crompton, Lirios Pla-Miro, Sarah Rustin, Jenny Fry, Jamie Buchan, Rowena Anketell, and all the linguists at Michael O’Mara for their generous help.

  A READER’S DIGEST BOOK

  Copyright © 2010 Michael O’Mara Books Limited

  All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.

  Reader’s Digest is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

  First published in Great Britain in 2009 by Michael O’Mara Books Limited,

  9 Lion Yard, Tremadoc Road, London SW4 7NQ

  READER’S DIGEST TRADE PUBLISHING

  Consulting Editor: Candace Levy

  Editorial Intern: Lauren Hanson

  Manager, English Book Editorial, Reader’s Digest Canada: Pamela Johnson

  Senior Art Director: George McKeon

  Executive Editor, Trade Publishing: Dolores York

  Manufacturing Manager: Elizabeth Dinda

  Associate Publisher, Trade Publishing: Rosanne McManus

  President and Publisher, Trade Publishing: Harold Clarke

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Rhodes, Chloe. A certain “je ne sais quoi” : the origin of foreign words used in English

  Chloe Rhodes.

  p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-1-606-52276-9

  English language—Foreign words—Dictionaries. 2. English language—

  Etymology—Dictionaries. I. Title.

  PE1670.R495 2010

  422’.403--dc22

  2009048817

  Reader’s Digest is committed to both the quality of our products and the service we provide to our customers. We value your comments, so please feel free to contact us: The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc., Adult Trade Publishing Reader’s Digest Road, Pleasantville, NY 10570-7000

  For more Reader’s Digest products and information, visit our website:

  www.rd.com (in the United States)

  www.readersdigest.ca (in Canada)

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  “They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.”

  —William Shakespeare, Love’s Labour’s Lost, V.i

  Introduction

  The wonderful thing about words is that once we’ve learned their meanings, we rarely have to give them a second thought. Whether we’re arguing a point, expressing our passion, or simply ordering a pizza, the words are there; generally we have no need to pause to consider their precise meanings or ponder over their provenance.

  However, for all the benefits such fluency brings, it does mean that we’re often oblivious to the fascinating origins of the words and phrases we use every day, which is why this book came to be. The list of words and phrases within it is by no means exhaustive, and it doesn’t offer an academic look at etymology, but it does attempt to tell the stories of some of the thousands of foreign words and phrases that have come to be commonly used in English.

  That there are so many should come as no surprise; English speakers have been linguistic magpies since at least the fifth century, when the dialects of Anglo-Saxon settlers, Celts, and Norse invaders were cobbled together to create Old English. When the Normans arrived in 1066, it must have seemed only natural to appropriate some of their vocabulary, too; by the end of the thirteenth century, more than 10,000 French words had been absorbed into English, 75 percent of which we continue to use today. The Norman conquerors also shared with us a fondness for Latin, both ancient Gaul and Britain having been invaded by the Romans in 58 BC and AD 43 respectively, and a few centuries later the European Renaissance brought Latin and ancient Greek to the fore once more.

  As the British Empire grew from the late sixteenth to the early twentieth centuries, marauding seafarers filled their boats not only with strange Asian spices and exotic fabrics but also with words for all the new foods, animals, and items of clothing they had seen. In North America, meanwhile, English was to receive its most vigorous boost yet. Words from Italy, Spain (via Mexico), Poland, Germany, and eastern Europe were soon spilling from the immigrant ships to be mopped up by the giant lexical sponge of American English.

  Very often the new terms had no practical purpose—English speakers didn’t go around gobbling up foreign words because they were short of their own—they did it because, where self-expression is concerned, you can never have too many options. Very often there is just something about throwing in a foreign word or phrase that lends whatever we have to say, well—how best to put it?—a certain je ne sais quoi.

  A Note from the Publisher

  The convention in written English is to place unfamiliar foreign terms, or relatively newly acquired ones, in italics. Opinions differ as to when a word has been so fully absorbed into English that it no longer needs italics, but our vade mecums (see page 165) have been the eminently reliable New Oxford Dictionary for Writers and Editors and New Oxford Spelling Dictionary.

  A

  A cappella

  in the manner of the chapel or choir (Italian, from the Latin “a cappella”)

  This phrase comes to us via the Late Latin “cappa,” meaning “cap” or “cloak”—the chapel that housed the cloak of Saint Martin, kept as a relic, was thus the “capella.” The meaning of the term has now expanded to include any unaccompanied vocal performance, from the doo-wop bands of 1950s America to barbershop quartets to modern TV talent shows.

  The neighborhood dogs all howled along when Jeremy began his a cappella serenade.

  A la carte

  according to the menu (French)

  An “à la carte” menu features individually priced items as opposed to a set-price menu. The concept was introduced by celebrated French chef Georges Auguste Escoffier during his tenure at the Carlton Hotel in London at the turn of the last century. Escoffier’s 1903 cookbook Le Guide Culinaire is still revered as a culinary bible, though his greatest claim to fame is that one of his pupils was Ho Chi Minh, who presumably thought he’d better get a bit of pastry practice under his belt before leading Vietnam to independence.

  ’t’ll have to be the à la carte menu for me; I’ve got a terrible craving for truffles.

  A la mode

  fashionable (French)

  The link between France and fashion was established by King Louis XIV, whose court became such an epicenter of good taste that the British aristocracy didn’t simply want to dress in French fashion, they wanted their phrase for it, too. In the seventeenth century the term was anglicized to become “alamode”—a light silk used to make scarves. In the United States the phrase has also come to mean “with ice cream”; there must have been a time in small-town America when the combined flavors of cooked apple, sweet pastry, and vanilla represented the very latest i
n fashionable, cutting-edge gastronomy.

  Can I suggest these divine little ankle boots, madam? Python-skin platforms are so à la mode.

  A priori

  from what precedes (Latin)

  In philosophical debate, “a priori” knowledge is a form of knowledge that comes from what we know rationally to be true, without having to test or research it. Its opposite is “a posteriori” knowledge, which is gleaned through experimentation or experience. The great eighteenth-century German philosopher Immanuel Kant initiated the modern use of the term and believed that a priori knowledge was transcendental, stemming from an individual’s cognitive faculties. In more general terms it is used literally or ironically for any argument or idea that is based on inherent knowledge rather than observation.

  We know a priori that Tom won’t say no to some kind of dinner; it doesn’t matter what we get, that boy will eat anything.

  Ad hoc

  for this (Latin)

  This is one of many politically, administratively, and commercially useful terms to have retained its Latin form. It means something that is designed for one set purpose. “Ad hoc” committees are established by the government to help solve a specific problem; they’re usually created in response to an urgent need and last only for the duration of the task in hand. This has led the phrase to have a broader meaning of improvised or provisional. For example, if plans are said to be “ad hoc,” they might be seen as last minute and haphazard.

  Jeffrey preferred to plan his plane-spotting trips for himself; the itineraries of his fellow enthusiasts seemed alarmingly ad hoc.

  Ad lib

  according to one’s pleasure (Latin, from “ad libitum”)

  This was originally used to mark out the points within a piece of sheet music or theatrical script where performers could add their own personal flourish. In modern times the phrase is most often used to describe the unscripted, off-the-cuff comments that comedians, actors, or presenters add to their scripted material, either to get an extra laugh or to conceal the fact that they have forgotten their lines.

  Oh, darlings, that was awful! The words just went right out of my head; I had to ad lib my way through the death scene.

  Ad nauseam

  to sickness (Latin)

  An “argumentum ad nauseam” is an argument that is repeated until everyone is sick of hearing it. Much of the language of debate comes from the adversarial conventions established by Roman orator Cicero in the first century BC. “Ad nauseam” has been used in English since the early 1600s and is still employed to pour scorn on a well-rehearsed political argument. It’s also used in reference to other annoyingly repetitive things, like people who recite lines from their favorite TV comedy until you want to tear your ears off.

  Late again, Brian. Don’t try to explain. I’ve heard your excuses ad nauseam.

  Aficionado

  ardent fan or devotee (Spanish)

  In Spain “aficionado” is used most frequently to describe fans of bullfighting. Ernest Hemingway was a famous one; “Aficion means passion,” says his narrator, Jake Barnes, in The Sun Also Rises. In English the term indicates a devoted fan of a sport or art form that evokes strong, primal feelings. There are jazz, opera, rugby, and ballet aficionados, but you’re unlikely to hear the term applied to badminton fans, no matter how potent their ardor for the perfect drop-volley.

  Sid “The Savage” Simmons lived in fear of being outed as a figure-skating aficionado; he’d been smitten since he saw Torville and Dean dance to Ravel’s Boléro.

  Agent provocateur

  inciting agent (French)

  A secret agent employed by the police or government to encourage criminals or dissidents to break the law so that they can be arrested. The phrase is still used in this way; in the United States the FBI has used agents provocateurs to infiltrate radical political groups like the Black Panthers and the Ku Klux Klan, and in the UK it’s the name of a risqué lingerie firm that hopes to incite bad behavior of a different kind—ooh la la!

  Agent Peters, we need you in there as an agent provocateur. Your undercover name will be “The Strangler.”

  Agitprop

  agitation and propaganda (Russian, from “agitatsii i propagandy”)

  The Agitation and Propaganda section of the Communist Party’s Central Committee was responsible for the education of the people after the 1917 Revolution. It used speeches, radio broadcasts, posters, film, and visual art to influence public opinion, though in Soviet Russia at that time there was no negative connotation to the word “propaganda.” In modern Western usage it usually refers to political propaganda, especially of dissident or protesting groups, but also works of art and literature whose aim is to indoctrinate its audience with extreme leftist ideology.

  Frederick feigned illness on the night of the Socialist Amateur Dramatic Society’s monthly wine and poetry evening. He’d had his fill of agitprop at the last one.

  Aide-mémoire

  memory aid (French)

  Early use of the phrase, which means a “note” or “memorandum,” was limited to military and diplomatic fields. G. Lewis’s 1846 book Aide-Mémoire to the Military Sciences was one of the first written references to it. In more recent times it has also come to refer to a memory-jogging symbol, like a knot tied in a handkerchief, or a mnemonic device, like the rhyme “i before e except after c.”

  Mr. Green’s scowl was putting off the voters, so his political advisers drew smiley faces on each page of his speech as an aide-mémoire to look more cheerful.

  Al dente

  to the tooth (Italian)

  This is the term Italians use to describe the way pasta should be served—cooked through but still firm, retaining some bite. The enormous popularity of Italian food in the UK and the United States has led the phrase to be widely used in English. It has also been adopted to describe vegetables like green beans and zucchini, which have been cooked briefly so they retain a bit of crunch.

  The craze for al dente vegetables hadn’t really caught on at Mrs. Higginson’s guesthouse: her greens were so well cooked you had to eat them with a spoon.

  Al fresco

  in the fresh (Italian)

  In English we use the phrase to mean “in the fresh air,” but to Italians it’s a slang term for “in prison,” like the English phrase “in the cooler.” To avoid confusion when visiting Italy, ask for a table “all’aperto,” meaning “in the open,” if you want to dine, um, al fresco. The phrase has been used in English since at least the eighteenth century—the picnic at Box Hill in Jane Austen’s Emma is described as an “al-fresco party.”

  I’d rather not eat al fresco again; last night I lost half my spaghetti to a seagull.

  Algebra

  reunion, restoration (Latin, from Arabic al-jabr)

  Ninth-century Persian mathematician Muhammad bin Musa al-Khawarizmi first used the term to describe the methods by which letters and other symbols are used to represent numbers and quantities in equations and formulas. In fact, the romanized version was first used in English in reference to reuniting broken bones. In the twelfth century a Latin translation of al-Khawarizmi’s work was published, and we have used “algebra” as a mathematical term ever since.

  Sarah had found a pleasing way to practice the balancing principles of algebra—every time she ate one of her own sweets, she ate one of her brother’s, too.

  Alma mater

  nourishing mother (Latin)

  Your “alma mater” is your university or school. The phrase was originally used by the Romans as a title for goddesses and by early Christians to describe the Virgin Mary. “Alma mater studorum,” which translates as “nourishing mother of studies” was the motto of the University of Bologna in Italy—the oldest university in the world—and it may have been through this association that the term came to refer to places of education. Its meaning has extended in the United States to mean the school song or anthem.

  Boris could barely contain his excitement on the way to the re
union at his alma mater. Ten years had passed since his failed attempt to woo Tiffany Plumbings, and he felt ready to give it another go.

  Alter ego

  other self (Latin)

  The phrase, in the sense of a second self or alternative persona, was first used in reference to schizophrenia in the early nineteenth century. It is now also used to refer to a number of more benign double identities, from cross-dressers to authors whose characters are fictionalized versions of themselves. An alter ego has even become a fashionable accessory in the music business. David Bowie started it with Ziggy Stardust: Britney Spears, Mariah Carey and Beyoncé Knowles each have one, and Prince has two.