Thursday, March 2, 2023

Language Of Confusion: Verse, Part IX

Is this… the last one? Actually the last post looking at the words descended from the Proto Indo European wer-to turn or bend? It might be, but I can’t tell. It seems like I’ve been doing these posts all year.
 
First is inward. But not, like, any other word ending in -ward, which has a completely different origin. Which happens to be wer-, but a different wer-. Yes, words were stupid back then, too. Inward showed up as the Old English inweard, from the Proto Germanic inwarth, which is a mix of the Old English word inne, in, and the suffix -weard, meaning toward or more literally turned toward. It’s from the Proto Germanic werda-, from the Proto Indo European werto-, to turn or wind, which is from wer-. The other ward, though it also comes from an Old English weard, is apparently completely distinct from this -weard. The only other word ending in -ward that does this is, appropriately, outward. It’s from the Old English útweard, where the ut- means out. Anything else with -ward in it is from guard.
 
Next, well, it’s time to get weird. You all know what a rhombus is, right? Did you know it’s from wer-, too? It showed up in the mid sixteenth century from the Late Latin rhombus. There was also the word rhomb, which showed up slightly later than rhombus and means the same thing, and is also from the same place, so I’m not sure why we have it. It’s from the Greek rhombos, which meant rhombus but could also mean a circular movement or spinning motion—or a flatfish. That’s thought to be from rhembesthai, to spin or whirl, from the Proto Indo European wrembh-, from werbh-, to turn or twist, which is from wer-. That was quite a journey, but I think I can see it. A rhombus is a kind of twisted parallelogram.
 
Rhapsody showed up in the mid sixteenth century meaning an epic poem, then adjusting to mean a work made up of miscellaneous or disconnected pieces, then an exalted expression of ideas in the seventeenth century, and finally a musical composition in the mid nineteenth century. It comes from the French rhapsodie, from the classical Latin rhapsodia, from the Greek rhapsodia, which all mean rhapsody, but in the epic poem sense. That word is from rhaptein, which actually means… sewing. It’s actually a mix of wer- and the word ode, and a rhapsody was a poem “sewn” together, and that’s why we have rhapsody.
 
How about prose? Yes, like what we write in fiction. It showed up in the fourteenth century from the Old French prose and classical Latin prosa, prose. Prosa is from the verb prosus/prorsus, prosaic or straightforward, a mix of pro (forward) and vorsus, turned, from our old friend vertere, to turn or change. So prose is a verse word that dropped the ver- part.
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English
Old English-English Dictionary
Orbis Latinus

3 comments:

  1. A spinning motion, or a flatfish. Take your pick!

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  2. R words that come from wer-. Although, I bet it gets stranger. But then again, maybe not.

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  3. I'm only familiar with rhapsody in the music context.

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