The badger cut has been called off, which I am glad of as the science is dodgy and badgers look cute.
The article I was reading had a lexical knot, which amused me. The adjective bovine was used more often than cow or cattle, whereas when it came to the badgers there "of badgers" or badgers used as adjectival noun. A cool side-effect of the mixture in English is that some nouns are Old English-derived but their adjectives are Latin-derived, (eg. eye and ocular, window and fenestral, mail and postal, technically "collateral adjectives"). The animals ones are quite cool as they mostly end in -ine.
Whereas lupine, asinine, equine, murine, ovine and bovine are commonly known, the rest are stuff for a Wikipedia lists (List of animal names is pretty terrible and littered with errors).
The adjective for badger is meline (I looked it up), so the article could have talked about meline TB.
Googling meline TB gives only a article obviously in The guardian.
What if we were not obsessed with the -ine adjectives?
We would still be stock actually. Badger is probably from badge + ard, so came about solely after 1500 and the only adjective is badgerly and badgerlike, which both mean behaving like a badger (and I assume smelling like one too).
The OE-derived word for badger is brock (from broc) and the adjective brockish means meline, badgerly or beastly. The meaning of brockish is as guessable as meline, so that is of little help.
An amusing twist is that broc is actually of Celtic origin (brocc in Old Irish). Whereas the germanic version is dasse (last used in ME; cognate with German Dachs; plural is dassen).
So meline is the only choice. In addition to the impenetrability of some of the Latin derived adjectives, there is also the problem of animals unknown to the romans or that they could not be bothered to tell apart.
In the endless lists of name of animal adjectives, what seems to happen is the genus name is converted. It works for certain animals, such as walruses, which are odobenine, but it gets into a muddle when the pus/pedis comes in. Are kangaroos and wallabies macropine or macropodine? Are octopuses octopine or octopodine?
The last one actually is case where the Romans could not be bothered telling animals apart. The Romans called both octopuses and polyps polypus, so when Linnaeus came along he made called the form octo- and left the other poly-, which makes sense. In Old English, they did not care either and they simply used the word cuttlefish to refer to all cephalopods (squid appeared from nowhere after the 1600s). Another case is rat. The Romans called mures both rats and mice, whereas the Germanic barbarians did and gave the mediaeval Latin rattus. As a consequence rattine is not commonly used, being a back formation. Rattish should be, but it is not scientific. Which is actually the reason in the first place why they are used…
Playing havoc with words from looking at Old English words to musing about words from this begadgeted era.
Saturday, 27 October 2012
Meline TB
Labels:
badger,
bovine,
collateral adjectives,
Latin,
meline
Friday, 26 October 2012
The correct octopus plural
The whole octopuses/octopi/octopoda/octopodes issue is hilariously tragic.
There is no black and white solution as three languages are involved.
Octopus is from the taxonomic Neolatin word octopūs and zoologically all -pūs words are 3rd declension Latin and generally masculine (genitive -podis and plural nominative -podes), because they decided so. The Romans called octopuses polypus, a masculine second declension word (plural polypi), where the pus root is the same. In other words, English pedants would have told the Romans off for not getting their Greek right —ironic given that they are fluent at it as opposed to knowing less than a smattering of rules and words.
There is no black and white solution as three languages are involved.
Octopus is from the taxonomic Neolatin word octopūs and zoologically all -pūs words are 3rd declension Latin and generally masculine (genitive -podis and plural nominative -podes), because they decided so. The Romans called octopuses polypus, a masculine second declension word (plural polypi), where the pus root is the same. In other words, English pedants would have told the Romans off for not getting their Greek right —ironic given that they are fluent at it as opposed to knowing less than a smattering of rules and words.
So if problem does not lies with the Romans, does it lie with the Greeks?
Maybe… Greek was continually changing and has different periods, the Greek in Greece now speak modern Greek, whereas under the Roman empire it was Koine Greek, before that a mix of dialects which waxing and waining prestige.
An archaic dialect was Doric were the word for foot was πός (pous, genitive που, pou, plural nominative ποί, poi), a second declension, whereas in others such Ionic, the early classic one of Homer, or Attic, the classic one from Athens, it was πούς (pous, genitive ποδος, podos, and plural nominative ποδες, podes). The Romans borrowed polypus from the Doric speakers, so their plural was polypi. A similar muddle happened with the Latin letters and transliterations from Greek.
So to recap in order of decreasing idiocy:
- Octopoda.
- Pro: Yes, octopus may be a masculine not neuter, but the order is called octopoda and Stephen Fry said so on QI.
- Contra: Octopoda is for consistency and Saint Stephen does make mistakes (he got his Greek wrong on The liar by writing patrochles)
- Octopi.
- Pro: Octopus was based on polypus and that zoologists have no right to decide and ruin the purity of Latin historical continuity.
- Contra: The word was coined by zoologists, the Roman's borrowed polypi right before they went out of style, anyway, and there is no such thing as continuity with Neolatin, just anachronism.
- Octopodes.
- Pro: The correct Neolatin plural.
- Contra: Rather hard to pronounce.
- Octopuses.
- Pro: it is not the end of the world.
- Contra. But it is fun.
It is curious how the word pedantry has the Latin pedes as a root…
Monday, 22 October 2012
Fossilised participles
What do nature and furniture have to do with the future?
In English, there are a great deal of fossilised Latin participles, which are hiding…
In Latin there were four, the active present participle in -ans or -ens (-ant or -ent in English), the passive participle in -atus or -itus (-ate or -ite in English), the active future participle in -aturus or -iturus (-ature or -iture in English) and the passive future participle (actually called a gerundive) -andus or -endus.
It is rather cool thing to know as they are easy to spot.
For example,
Expectant means expecting, dependant means depending on, constant means standing with.
Separate means sperated, ingrate means that has not been graced, passionate means that has been given passion.
Agenda means that will be done, graduand means that will be graduated, memorandum means that will be remembered.
And finally, nature means that will beget (nascent is the present participle equivalent), furniture means that will furnish and future means that will be.
What the logic was for nature and furniture to be future participles is a different matter entirely…
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