A-to-Z Challenge: Z

It’s the last day! We did it!

For the final word, we’re looking at zoo. Just zoo showed up in 1847 as a short way of saying the Zoological Gardens of London. Zoology is an older word, showing up in the mid seventeenth century meaning animal science and coming from the Latin zoologia, which is just the same thing. They used the Greek words zoo, animal, and -logia, discourse/theory. Zoo can be traced even further back to the Proto Indo European gwei, to live or life and actually the origin word for the prefix bio- too.

And that’s it! End of the alphabet! Woo! Go take a break before your fingers fall off!

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Google Translate

University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language

A-to-Z Challenge: Y

We’re almost done! Today we’re looking at youth. Don’t you miss that? I know I do.

 

Youth comes from the Old English geoguÞ, which means young people/warriors) or childhood and is pronounced “jeoguth”. It’s also related to geong, young, which comes from the Proto Germanic jugunthi-, a combination of the Proto Indo European yeu (vigor) and the Proto Germanic suffix -itho, which was a suffix that was put onto nouns like depth and strength.

So, how did it get from a word that begins with a Y to a word that begins with a J to a G and back to a Y? Well, the reason for Y to J is lost to history (it might have to do with the fact that J used to be pronounced like a Y but I’m not sure), and J and the G somewhat make the same sound so that explains that. But we do know what happened to get it from G back to Y. Back in the middle ages, youth began with a Yogh, which had the symbol Ȝ and was pronounced like a combination of Y and G. Then English dropped Yogh as a letter and youth needed something in order to spell it, so they went with Y. Which means that it went all the way back around to the letter it originally started with.

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center

University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language

Old English-English Dictionary

Medieval Writing

A-to-Z Challenge: X

Well, it’s the hardest day of the challenge. X is always a tough letter, and I used up my brilliant plan of looking at the origins of the letter last year. So what did I pick?

Xerox! Yes, it’s a proper name, but there’s actually more to it than that. Xerox was trademarked in 1952, but the name came from the word xerography. That word showed up in 1948—yes, that recently. The word for photocopying paper was a mix of the word photography and the Greek word xeros, which means dry. Apparently, because Xeroxing was a form of copying without using liquid, the inventors decided to tack on the word dry to it. But in Greek because that’s fancier.

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Google Translate

A-to-Z Challenge: W

Introduction, lame segue, wise.

Wise comes from the Old English wis, wise—at least as an adjective. Further back, it’s the Proto Germanic wissaz and Proto Indo European weid, to see. That word happens to be the origin word for vision, by the way. So someone who was wise was someone who could “see”.

But, like I said, that’s just the adjective. Not that the other forms aren’t related, it’s just that they have a slightly different history. There’s both a noun and a verb of wise, although I haven’t really heard either one used in a sentence. The noun means a manner of proceeding and it comes from the Old English wise. Before that, it’s the Proto Germanic wison, which means appearance or manner and is related to wissaz. And finally, there’s the verb, which comes from wisean, just another version of wis.

Wisdom: the ability to see ahead. I guess.

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center

University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language

Old English-English Dictionary

A-to-Z Challenge: V

We can see the end now. And in that vein, view.

View showed up in the earlyfifteenth century meaning a formal inspection of land, not taking on the current meaning until the mid fifteenth century. It comes from the Anglo French vewe, view, and Old French veue, which can mean brightness, appearance, or vision and is from the verb veoir, to see. The French took their word from the classical Latin videre, to see. So while it always had something to do with sight, it’s taken on some pretty weird subsets over the years.

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Omniglot

University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center

Fordham University

A-to-Z Challenge: U

We’re in the downward swing of things now. Hanging in there?

Anyway, we’re looking at urge. It showed up in the mid to late sixteenth century, coming from the classical Latin urgere, which just means urge. It can be traced all the way back to the Proto Indo European wreg-, push or shove. Not much change there.

Hey, the etymology actually makes sense! How about that.

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Google Translate

Omniglot

University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language

A-to-Z Challenge: T

Just over a week left, right? Anyway, today is thrive.

We know that thrive showed up in the early thirteenth century from some Scandinavian source, but not exactly where. Possibly it’s from the Old Norse Þrifask/Þrifa, which means clutch or take hold of. Which…doesn’t really sound like thrive. Oh, and for those just tuning in, Þ is thorn, an old letter for the th sound. Why’d we get rid of it? Isn’t it so much easier for a sound to have its own letter?

Sources

Online Etymology Dictionary

Omniglot

Briem.net