The Fame of Identity and the Laws of Reality: Fifteenth Week

Our word for the blog this week is “fame.” Johnson says this comes from φαμα (phama). The Liddell-Scott lexicon shows this Greek word to be the Doric form for φημη (phāmā). To Johnson’s credit he also gives the Doric attribution. The lexicographer simply states that “fame” means “Celebrity; renown” and “Report; rumour.” However, the Greek lexicon gives a more extensive use for φημη. Its possible usages include “utterance prompted by the gods, significant or prophetic saying,” “report, rumour,” “report of a man’s character, repute,” and “any voice or words, speech, saying.” The Greeks used φημη to designate a far broader range of meanings than we do today with “fame.” Johnson’s usages more closely mirror our own – indicating a withering away of the word through history.

Contemporary use of “fame” almost universally brings to mind celebrities – those celebrated and fawned over by their fans. In many ways “fame” is not a word taken particularly seriously by today’s world with its oft short-lived burst of intensity, lasting only until the next new celebrity comes to the fore. The Greek word had some significance but the etymologically connected English word has far less.

Perhaps this is indicative of words that represent ideas of shallow substance. It is reasonable to expect people to disregard the word as much as the thing it represents. Such is a segue to another interesting topic – what are words? In the most basic of senses words are combinations of letters of an alphabet so arranged to represent ideas of concrete things. When one says horse, one thinks of the animal commonly known by that designation. Contrastingly, when one says car, an automobile is brought to mind, though there are several common traits between the two. Cars and horses can carry people or loads to and from designated locations. Both can travel long distances and often at considerable speed.

Why do human beings not habitually confound the two words (of course only in their contemporaneous time period)? The obvious answer is that both words represent two uniquely different things, besides the fact that the words are constructed of different letters. The ability of human beings to form and use words in an unambiguous manner is evidence of the importance of the Law of Identity in the lives of mankind. Though easily taken for granted, the possession of individual properties by individual things is vital in preventing perpetual chaos. This characteristic of reality must not be disregarded or taken lightly. Failure to respect the strictures of identity always causes misfortune. Individual identity and individual reality are intimately intertwined, and one relies on the other for existence. I suppose one could say identity and its rules possess rather a lot of “fame” despite their sometimes being forgotten and left to obscurity.

 

John

Context, Context, Context: Fourteenth Week

This blog would be quite remiss in its purpose if it did not consider “etymology” as a weekly word of interest. Johnson offers this use concerning the origins of words, “The descent or derivation of a word from its original…” The lexicographer states “etymology is from the Latin word etymologia and a Greek compound of ετυμος (etumos) and λογος (logos). According to the Oxford Latin Dictionary the Latin term comes from ετυμολογια (etumologia), rendering the Latin a very near transliteration with the same meaning – word origin.

While it is true one should not define a word by its etymology, especially given the antiquity of many English terms, the origin of words does paint a picture of their evolution through use. Perhaps more importantly, etymology lays a groundwork for meaning. One can only stray so far from a thing’s structure before it is left behind and something else is being contemplated. So it is with word origins.

However, the final arbiter of word meanings is context. Finding and understanding the context of a passage is vital to knowing how that particular word or phrase is being used. A simplified exploration of context can be divided into two fronts: immediate and extended. In typical book format, immediate context deals with how a word is being used in a single sentence or at most a paragraph and may be limited to less than a paragraph if long or complex. Extended context considers how a word or phrase is used in a chapter or section and finally in the book as a whole. Mortimer J. Adler discusses context and its relation to the words of which it consists and that describe it. He writes in, How to Read a Book:

Most of the words in any English book are familiar words. These words surround the strange words, the technical words, the words that may cause the reader some trouble. The surrounding words are the context for the words to be interpreted. The reader has all the materials he needs to do the job. (p. 202, See the link to the right for the Adler book.)

It is in matters of context that most people make mistakes in understanding and the misinterpretation that follows. The antidote to such mistakes often can simply start with a good dictionary or lexicon. For English words the Oxford English Dictionary will almost always be the best option. The particular characteristic that sets this multi-volume work apart is its extensive use of chronologically sequenced quotations. Investigating the range of quotations offered reveals a broad multilayered context of usages. If the range of word usages are accurate the researcher should come away with a rather complete set of possible meanings from which to choose. If those findings are coupled with the context of the passage or book considered and etymological backgrounds are not ignored, proper word meanings are quite certain to be found. It is certainly worth saying again: Dictionaries offer usages, but contexts determine meanings.  

Until next week.

John

Secrets of the Riddle: Thirteenth Week

Our word this week is “enigma.” Johnson offers this meaning: “A riddle; an obscure question; a position expresses in remote and ambiguous terms.” The Greek from which the word comes is ἄινιγμα (ainigma). Greek lexicons offer these possible usages: “dark saying,” “riddle,” “an obscure thing,” and “indistinct image.” The New Testament describes the word as an obscure reflection in a mirror (1 Corinthians 13:12). This describes the idea exactly. One can see an image, but it is indistinct. This is just what a riddle is – the answer is in the question, but we cannot quite see it. Therein lies the fascination of riddles. A short riddle my father used to tell me when I was young goes like this:

            What’s round like a donut,

            Deep like a cup,

            And all the king’s men and all the king’s horses could never pull it up?

Since each line of the riddle uses common imagery, we feel the answer must be near at hand in our minds. But it remains just out of reach. Successful riddles evoke hope in us that we can surely find the answer. Perhaps we might say to ourselves, “Well, I know about men and horses, and I surely know about donuts and cups; so, I must know the answer.” But the answer is not so obvious. The answer to the little riddle above is: a well. A water well is round and deep and cannot be pulled up by might. Even the answer is simple. It is the means of getting to the answer that is difficult and intriguing.

This brings to mind something that remains an enigma to some – the power of the obvious. It is said that the best place to hide something is in plain sight. Why is this so? It is so because the brains of human beings do many things automatically. We have autofill as it were. An example is why common typos like the the or there for their are so easily overlooked and so hard to find in our own writing. Our brains automatically correct the error as we read. Interestingly, this accounts for almost all variations in the many Greek texts of the New Testament. From an age of hand-writing and hand-copying it is easy to see how such small differences exist in the manuscripts. Not to mention that the earliest manuscripts, the uncials, were written all in capitals with little or no spaces between words or punctuation. By the way, here is the sentence you just read in uncial form, albeit in English.

Nottomentionthattheearliestmanuscriptstheuncialswerewrittenallincapitalswithlittleornospacesbetweenwordsorpunctuation

The obvious and automatic are the keys to good enigmas or riddles – the ones that seem easy to solve but are not. As long as the enigmatist (also from Johnson, one who makes riddles) can make the lines seem obvious while maintaining their obscurity, he is well on his way to success.

 

The Finer Points of Selection: Twelfth Week

Johnson’s word this week is “eclogue.” He says this means “A pastoral poem, so called because Virgil called his pastorals eclogues.” The Greek etymology given is εκλογη (eklogā). This Greek noun means a selection or choice and according to Liddell, Scott, and Jones can indicate a selection from writings. This seems the context of the idea offered by Johnson concerning Virgil’s poems.

A note on the Greek word is of interest. Εκλογη can be understood in its two parts – the base word and the prefix. The prefix is εκ meaning in this context out. The base word is λογη and related to λεγω and λογας which mean respectively pick or collect and gathered or chosen. If the base and prefix are put together the resulting noun means that which is chosen (literally: out picked, out collected, out gathered, or out chosen). The prefix sets our word apart from the verbs from which it is related by showing that that which was picked was also set apart or picked-out. This is were an illustration drawn from youth may be helpful.

Children choosing teams is a typical playground scene. Two captains make choice from the other children gathered around them and one by one pick and then collect the chosen into separated teams. The difference between picked and picked-out or chosen and chosen-out is the same as the difference between calling a player’s name and moving the player into the chosen team. One may consider both actions inseparable and simply two steps making up one action. However, they are actually two distinct actions because both can stand on their own. One can be chosen but not moved and another could be moved but not chosen for the team. This sort of analytical thinking is required to understand the difference between λεγω, λογη, and εκλογη. The explanation given above does not preclude some overlap in meaning and use of the words from one Greek writer to another or variations in lexical entries, but it is a literal reckoning for the use of the prefix and a defense against useless redundancy and for nuance.  

Johnson does not offer a Latin background for our word this week, but it is particularly applicable to the meaning he gives. Lewis tells us the Latin word ecloga  means “a selection, consisting of the finest passages, from a written composition” and comes from εκλογη. From this, one can deduce that when εκλογη came into Latin the meaning was consolidated into a literary selections process, from which English absorbed it by way of French eglogue  as a near transliteration.

The absorption process is a powerful characteristic of English and contributes to the difficulty of mastering it. Of its power, Melvyn Bragg wrote, “…English’s most subtle and ruthless characteristic of all: its capacity to absorb others” (page 2, see link on the right). As I mentioned in an earlier post, the etymology of English words opens a long lineage of history through Greek, Latin, and French. Absorbing word history, and with it history in general, fortifies the structural integrity of English, lending it great staying power and flexibility. This is why it endures and why English is used by so many around the world. As is said of the mighty oak that weathered centuries of storm and gale because it bent to the wind, so the same should be said of English tongue.

Until next week,

John

The Hidden Logic of Common Sense: Eleventh Week

 

This week the blog considers the word “dialectic.” Johnson gives this word the Greek etymology διαλεκτικη (dialektikā) and defined as “Logical; argumental.” Greek διαλεκτικη (dialektikā) or διαλεκτικoς (dialektikos) has the general meaning of reasoned discourse and synonymous with λογικος (logikos) from which we get the English word logic.

Some may be hesitant at the term logic thinking such things reside only in the realm of the philosophers and academe, but anyone who has heard or read something and responded by saying, “Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” was probably using logic to parse the information and thinks of it simply as common sense. However, logic seems to come naturally only in parochial settings, for when someone is asked to explain why they consider something to be common sense, they often cannot articulate the reasons. Logic comes most often, among the general populace, as a reflex rather than measured response.

The three Laws of Thought are the beginning antidote to the inarticulation. These laws are: the Law of Identity, the Law of Excluded Middle, and the Law of Contradiction (Ruby, 262). The Law of Identity applies to things, propositions/statements, and, I suggest, to actions, at least in concept. The basic idea of the law is that if a thing has a certain property, it has it. If a certain thing has the properties of a human being, then that thing is a human being. If a statement has the properties of being true, then it is true. Whatever a thing is, it is and it is not something that it is not. This may sound cryptic or oversimplified but it is rather vital to understanding reality. When this law is ignored, ambiguity is sure to follow. Consider any word which one would like to choose. If that word does not describe certain properties and exclude all others, then it could stand for anything or all things, thus, making that word useless as a form of communication since it has no definite meaning. Without the Law of Identity, a work like Johnson’s is useless.

The Law of Excluded Middle states that a thing either has a certain property (or properties) or it does not. Every precise statement is true or non-true. There can be no middle ground between true and non-true as there can be no middle ground between x and non-x. It would be inaccurate to say there is no middle ground between 1.0 and 2.0. In fact, there is: 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, etc. The numerical quantity 1.1 has the properties of 1.0 plus 0.1. Though 1.1 has all the attributes of 1.0,  it also has the attributes of 0.1. Therefore, 1.0 and 1.1 are not the same – 1.1 is non-1.0. Again, this is not nit-picking, but rather a way of being precise – a way of seeing and understanding reality as it is, free of distortion.

The Law of Contradiction says that a thing cannot both have properties x and non-x at the same time and in the same respects. No statement can be both true and non-true at the same time and in the same respect. For example, is the statement, “All dogs are dogs and all dogs are green.” true or non-true? Some may interject that it is both. However, the question asked if the statement, as a whole, is true or non-true. It is non-true for the same reasons that 1.1 is non-1.0, though it contains the properties of 1.0.

Seeing the world through precise logical eyes takes practice – practicing such fundamentals as are outlined in this article. It could be argued that every dictionary and dictionary maker is a testament to the rightness of what this article propounds. Lexicography embraces a coveted assurance that every word has its own significance, however intimately related it is to another. Johnson built his life’s work on this truth – a truth held in common by an unspoken logic.

Until next week.

John

 

I have added a link on the right to Lionel Ruby’s Logic: An Introduction for additional reference for those so inclined.

Cynicks and Dogs -- One and the Same?: Tenth Week

 

The word for this week’s blog is “cynick.” Johnson says this comes from κυνικος (kunikos) meaning, “Having the qualities of a dog; currish; brutal; snarling; satirical.” Liddell and Scott agree with Johnson, saying  κυνικος means “dog-like.” The Oxford English Dictionary says its contemporary usage is to describe someone who is skeptical of good motives and manifests their skepticism as a “sneering fault-finder.” “Cynick” and its modern spelling of cynic paint a rather sad and off-putting picture of someone who is almost violently negative.

Interestingly, this word is used in the 250 BC Greek translation of the Hebrew Old Testament, commonly called the Septuagint or LXX, First Samuel chapter twenty-five, verse three. Of the man Nabal, the King James text says he was, “churlish and evil in his doings.” The Greek here is, “πονηρος εν επιτηδευμασιν και ο ανθρωπος κυνικος” or in English translation, “wicked in habits of life and man churlish (dog-like).” In English and Greek it is describing an evil and cynical man. Nabal was the fellow who spurned and besmirched David in his time of need, though he besought Nabal kindly and respectfully. It was only through the wise actions of Nabal’s wife Abigail that he avoided the deadly consequences of his foolishness. By the way, the name Nabal means fool or impious. I have often wondered if the name came to mean fool before or after the Nabal described by Samuel. The Hebrew word for Nabal  is used in the Book of Job in chapter two verse ten. Given that Job may be the oldest book of the Old Testament, it seems very possible that nabal meant fool before the man was born.

A snarling biting dog is an apt description of the person who refuses to see anyone or anything in a positive light. Just as any one would prefer to avoid such a vicious creature, so they would prefer to stay away from the cynic.

A few other “cyn” words nearby in Johnson are: “cyanthropy,” “cynarctomachy,” and “cynegeticks.” These three words mean (in the order just given): a type of insanity where one displays dog-like characteristics; bear baiting with a dog; and, the process of training and hunting with dogs. All these Johnson says comes from Greek words, alone or in combination. It may seem strange to modern minds to attribute such violence and distastefulness to dogs, given dogs’ favored status as beloved pets. However, in the not-so-distant past, animals seen today only as pets or at worst as abandoned waifs were not considered so uniformly as loving companions. In ages were men and beasts labored to survive and packs of semi-wild dogs were familiar at every garbage heap or other unsavory place of refuse, animals were not seen in the same kindly light prevalent today. This fact, perhaps shocking to some, is a useful lesson that life was much harder and required more physical and mental toughness than most societies require currently.

Until next week,

John

The Gift of William the Conqueror: Eighth Week

 

This week we shall start with “bipetalous.” Johnson says this word comes from “bis” from Latin and “πεταλον” (petalon) meaning “A flower consisting of two leaves.” It is not the definition to which I would like to draw your attention but the etymology. Johnson says this comes from Latin and Greek.

The combination of Latin and Greek as a historical beginning for an English word summons the question of what would the English language be without its connections to Latin and Greek and how did the connection evolve?

The answer mainly begins with the year 1066 and a Norman duke named William. In 1066, William of Normandy assembled his army and crossed the stormy winter seas of the North Atlantic to attack an underdefended England whose king was in the North fighting a usurping king from Norway, named Harald Hardrada. Hardrada was defeated at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. King Harold Godwinson and his exhausted English army rushed back to the South when word of the Norman invasion came to him. The Normans were too much for Godwinson. He was killed in battle and the throne went to William, now called the Conqueror.

At this point in our brief historical journey, you might rightly ask what this could possibly have to do with the English, Latin, and Greek languages. The key is that William brought the French language to England and made it the official language of the island. Oh, to be sure, English continued to be spoken, but instead of being washed away by French, English absorbed it and saw a rebirth that came to be known as Middle English which eventually became Modern English. The massive loan of French into English brought French etymology with it. Being a Romance language, French comes from Latin. Latin, in turn, derives much from Greek and was contemporary with it. A brief examination of Latin lexicon quickly shows the affinity Latin has with Greek. Word after word either comes from Greek or is akin to it. To open an English lexicon reveals the same affinity between English and French. Since one cannot have Modern English without French or French without Latin nor Latin without Greek, English has absorbed them all. With Latin and Greek came centuries of history from Rome and its Republic and its Caesars to Athens and the great orator Demosthenes. The history of Western civilization came into English with William when he crossed violent seas to distant shores hungry for power. He came to take a throne, but he brought a world larger than he knew to the Britons’ embattled coasts.

Until next week.

John