{"id":701,"date":"2016-07-29T20:43:57","date_gmt":"2016-07-30T00:43:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/?post_type=chapter&#038;p=701"},"modified":"2016-12-01T14:05:48","modified_gmt":"2016-12-01T19:05:48","slug":"%c2%a756-interesting-words","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/chapter\/%c2%a756-interesting-words\/","title":{"raw":"\u00a756. Interesting Words","rendered":"\u00a756. Interesting Words"},"content":{"raw":"<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">Depending on your taste, you may prefer Latin derivatives like <i>formula<\/i>, which have remained pure and pristine, or others like <i>libel <\/i>and<i> veal<\/i>, which have been modified or wholly transformed. An example of the former group is <i>calculus<\/i>, \u201csmall stone,\u201d \u201cpebble\u201d (&lt; <b>calx<\/b>, <b>calc-is<\/b>, \u201c[lime-]stone,\u201d a word we met in <a href=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/chapter\/16-legacy-of-latin-old-english\/\">\u00a716<\/a> as the source of E <i>chalk<\/i>). <i>Calculus<\/i> is not only a branch of mathematics, pioneered by Sir Isaac Newton; the word is also applied in medicine to a kidney- or a bladder-stone. In a later chapter, we\u2019ll see exactly how the words <i>calculate<\/i> and <i>calculation<\/i> came into being. Another pure Latin word in English is <i>uvula<\/i>, that \u201clittle grape-cluster\u201d that hangs down at the back of your mouth, to help you gargle and pronounce your French <i>r<\/i>\u2019s. Have you looked at your fingernails recently? See if you can find your <i>cuticle<\/i> (L <b>cuticula<\/b>, \u201clittle skin\u201d) and <i>lunula<\/i> (L <b>lunula<\/b>, \u201clittle moon\u201d). The word <i>molecule<\/i> is from <b>molecula<\/b>, a modern Latin diminutive of <b>moles<\/b>, \u201cmass.\u201d An <i>ovule<\/i>, \u201clittle egg\u201d (L <b>ovulum<\/b> &lt; <b>ovum<\/b>), gives rise to <i>ovular<\/i> and <i>ovulate<\/i>.<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">The neuter noun <b>vas<\/b> (\u201cvessel\u201d) appears in English as <i>vase<\/i> and <i>vas<\/i>\u2014the <i>vas deferens<\/i> is the sperm duct from the testicles.[footnote]A <em>testicle<\/em> (L <strong>testiculus<\/strong>) is a \u201clittle witness\u201d (<strong>&lt; testis<\/strong>), proof of one\u2019s virility. Without the diminutive suffix, <strong>testis<\/strong> had the same anatomical meaning; the comic poet Plautus puns on the double force of <strong>testis<\/strong>, \u201cwitness\u201d and \u201csexual witness.\u201d The English word <em>testes<\/em> is a 3rd declension Latin plural.[\/footnote] A \u201clittle vessel\u201d was a <b>vasculum<\/b>, a word still used by botanists for the small tin box in which plants are collected. More familiar, however, is the adjectival derivative <i>vascular<\/i> (L <b>vascularis<\/b>), pertaining to the blood vessels.<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">Sometimes English may perfectly reflect a Latin diminutive adjective, but show no trace of the diminished noun from which it stems. Latin <b>jocus<\/b> (<b>iocus<\/b>) is the source of English <i>joke<\/i>. We make no direct use of its diminutive <b>joculus<\/b>, but we have adopted the derived adjective <b>jocularis<\/b> as English <i>jocular<\/i>, \u201cin the manner of a little joke.\u201d[footnote]The word <em>juggler<\/em> was derived ultimately from <strong>joculator<\/strong>, \u201ca person who does funny little things.\u201d The Latin word is an agent noun from a denominative verb\u2014a form explained in Chapter 11, <a href=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/chapter\/%c2%a776-what-is-a-denominative-verb\/\">\u00a776<\/a>.[\/footnote] Another example is <i>jugular, <\/i>L <b>jugularis<\/b>, \u201cpertaining to the collarbone\u201d (<b>jugulum &lt; jugum<\/b>, \u201cyoke\u201d). Actually, <b>jugulum<\/b> is the old Latin word for the collarbone; today we call it the <i>clavicle <\/i>(L <b>clavicula<\/b>, \u201clittle key\u201d).<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">There is probably a weird link between the English words <i>oral<\/i> and <i>oscillate<\/i>, though the Latin etymology is not certain. The regularly formed diminutive of <b>os<\/b>, <b>oris<\/b> (N.) was <b>osculum<\/b>, a \u201clittle mouth\u201d that carried the special meaning of a \u201ckiss.\u201d The English words <i>osculate<\/i> and <i>osculation<\/i> refer to kissing, usually with pedantic humour. Latin also had an itty-bitty form <b>oscillum<\/b>, a double diminutive that was applied to a tiny mask or litle face of Bacchus that was hung from a tree and allowed to swing back and forth in the breeze. This is the likely source of the Latin HOMOGRAPH <b>oscillum<\/b>, which denoted a more general kind of swing. From this curious origin arose the English words <i>oscillate<\/i> and <i>oscillation<\/i>, descriptive of actions that swing back and forth.<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">A <i>fascicle<\/i> or <i>fascicule<\/i> (both forms exist in English) is a \u201clittle bundle\u201d (&lt; L <b>fascis<\/b>)\u2014for example, an unbound segment of a large book. In ancient Rome, the plural <b>fasces<\/b> denoted the bundle of rods that symbolized consular power. In 20th century Italy, that symbolism was revived, and gave rise to the political label <i>Fascist<\/i> .<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">If you prefer the transformed and disguised kind of derivatives, English can roll out a fine supply. That four-letter word <i>roll<\/i> (both verb and noun) conceals the Latin diminutive <b>rotula<\/b>, \u201clittle wheel\u201d (<b>rota<\/b>). A doublet for <i>module<\/i> (&lt; L <b>modulus<\/b>) is <i>mould<\/i> (US <i>mold<\/i>), in the sense of \u201clittle measure\u201d; the mouldy kind of <i>mould<\/i> is an entirely different word. Your <i>un<\/i><i>cle <\/i>is descended from Latin <b>avunculus<\/b>, literally a \u201clittle grandfather\u201d (<b>avus<\/b>); if he\u2019s kind and jolly, like all good uncles, we\u2019ll describe him as <i>avuncular<\/i>. A <i>carbuncle<\/i> is an unrelated little piece of coal (<b>carbo<\/b>)\u2014and one guaranteed cause of a sore foot. From the Latin adjective <b>cavus<\/b> (\u201chollow\u201d) comes <b>cavea<\/b> (\u201ccage,\u201d \u201ccoop\u201d); a \u201clittle cage\u201d is a *<b>caveola<\/b>, source of our word<i> jail <\/i>(which the British still spell as <i>gaol<\/i>, a form that is slightly closer to the Latin). A <i>seal<\/i> (the kind that you affix to a document) is derived from <b>sigillum<\/b>, the diminutive of <b>signum<\/b> (\u201csign,\u201d \u201cseal,\u201d etc.).<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">There are two English homonyms, <i>buccal<\/i> and <i>buckle<\/i>, which are both derived from the same noun, though they are not exact doublets. <b>Bucca<\/b> was the classical Latin word for the human cheek, though it wandered chinward to become the mouth in French (<i>bouche<\/i>) and Italian (<i>bocca<\/i>). One can predict the adjective form <b>buccalis<\/b>, \u201cpertaining to the cheek\u201d; its English derivative, <i>buccal<\/i>, is a common word in dentistry, applied to the part of the tooth that is nearest the cheek (as opposed to <i>lingual<\/i>, on the side of the tongue). The medieval Latin diminutive <b>buccula<\/b> denoted the \u201ccheek-strap\u201d of the helmet and the boss of a shield; it was not too obscure a progression for the word to become generalized as any type of <i>buckle<\/i>.<\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\"><i><\/i>If your appetite for Latin diminutives is undiminished, you can look up some of the following: <i>bottle, bugle, chapel, charter, model, novel, panel, pommel, pupil <\/i>(two kinds)<i>, <\/i><i>scruple, trestle, <\/i>and<i> vanilla<\/i>. The etymology of that last word may make you blush. If you are a French scholar, look up <i>soleil, chapeau, oiseau, abeille, oreille, <\/i>and<i> genou.<\/i><\/p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\"><i><\/i>Let us end with a quiet note of warning. Just when you think that you can spot a Latin \u201clittle word\u201d at ten paces, you will learn that there is a deceptively similar group of nouns derived from verbs. In a later chapter we\u2019ll meet such English words as <i>curriculum, vestibule, cubicle, vehicle, miracle, oracle, obstacle, <\/i>and<i> spectacle<\/i>\u2014with not a diminutive in the bunch. Language study wouldn\u2019t be any fun if it were too easy.<\/p>","rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">Depending on your taste, you may prefer Latin derivatives like <i>formula<\/i>, which have remained pure and pristine, or others like <i>libel <\/i>and<i> veal<\/i>, which have been modified or wholly transformed. An example of the former group is <i>calculus<\/i>, \u201csmall stone,\u201d \u201cpebble\u201d (&lt; <b>calx<\/b>, <b>calc-is<\/b>, \u201c[lime-]stone,\u201d a word we met in <a href=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/chapter\/16-legacy-of-latin-old-english\/\">\u00a716<\/a> as the source of E <i>chalk<\/i>). <i>Calculus<\/i> is not only a branch of mathematics, pioneered by Sir Isaac Newton; the word is also applied in medicine to a kidney- or a bladder-stone. In a later chapter, we\u2019ll see exactly how the words <i>calculate<\/i> and <i>calculation<\/i> came into being. Another pure Latin word in English is <i>uvula<\/i>, that \u201clittle grape-cluster\u201d that hangs down at the back of your mouth, to help you gargle and pronounce your French <i>r<\/i>\u2019s. Have you looked at your fingernails recently? See if you can find your <i>cuticle<\/i> (L <b>cuticula<\/b>, \u201clittle skin\u201d) and <i>lunula<\/i> (L <b>lunula<\/b>, \u201clittle moon\u201d). The word <i>molecule<\/i> is from <b>molecula<\/b>, a modern Latin diminutive of <b>moles<\/b>, \u201cmass.\u201d An <i>ovule<\/i>, \u201clittle egg\u201d (L <b>ovulum<\/b> &lt; <b>ovum<\/b>), gives rise to <i>ovular<\/i> and <i>ovulate<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">The neuter noun <b>vas<\/b> (\u201cvessel\u201d) appears in English as <i>vase<\/i> and <i>vas<\/i>\u2014the <i>vas deferens<\/i> is the sperm duct from the testicles.<a class=\"footnote\" title=\"A testicle (L testiculus) is a \u201clittle witness\u201d (&lt; testis), proof of one\u2019s virility. Without the diminutive suffix, testis had the same anatomical meaning; the comic poet Plautus puns on the double force of testis, \u201cwitness\u201d and \u201csexual witness.\u201d The English word testes is a 3rd declension Latin plural.\" id=\"return-footnote-701-1\" href=\"#footnote-701-1\" aria-label=\"Footnote 1\"><sup class=\"footnote\">[1]<\/sup><\/a> A \u201clittle vessel\u201d was a <b>vasculum<\/b>, a word still used by botanists for the small tin box in which plants are collected. More familiar, however, is the adjectival derivative <i>vascular<\/i> (L <b>vascularis<\/b>), pertaining to the blood vessels.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">Sometimes English may perfectly reflect a Latin diminutive adjective, but show no trace of the diminished noun from which it stems. Latin <b>jocus<\/b> (<b>iocus<\/b>) is the source of English <i>joke<\/i>. We make no direct use of its diminutive <b>joculus<\/b>, but we have adopted the derived adjective <b>jocularis<\/b> as English <i>jocular<\/i>, \u201cin the manner of a little joke.\u201d<a class=\"footnote\" title=\"The word juggler was derived ultimately from joculator, \u201ca person who does funny little things.\u201d The Latin word is an agent noun from a denominative verb\u2014a form explained in Chapter 11, \u00a776.\" id=\"return-footnote-701-2\" href=\"#footnote-701-2\" aria-label=\"Footnote 2\"><sup class=\"footnote\">[2]<\/sup><\/a> Another example is <i>jugular, <\/i>L <b>jugularis<\/b>, \u201cpertaining to the collarbone\u201d (<b>jugulum &lt; jugum<\/b>, \u201cyoke\u201d). Actually, <b>jugulum<\/b> is the old Latin word for the collarbone; today we call it the <i>clavicle <\/i>(L <b>clavicula<\/b>, \u201clittle key\u201d).<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">There is probably a weird link between the English words <i>oral<\/i> and <i>oscillate<\/i>, though the Latin etymology is not certain. The regularly formed diminutive of <b>os<\/b>, <b>oris<\/b> (N.) was <b>osculum<\/b>, a \u201clittle mouth\u201d that carried the special meaning of a \u201ckiss.\u201d The English words <i>osculate<\/i> and <i>osculation<\/i> refer to kissing, usually with pedantic humour. Latin also had an itty-bitty form <b>oscillum<\/b>, a double diminutive that was applied to a tiny mask or litle face of Bacchus that was hung from a tree and allowed to swing back and forth in the breeze. This is the likely source of the Latin HOMOGRAPH <b>oscillum<\/b>, which denoted a more general kind of swing. From this curious origin arose the English words <i>oscillate<\/i> and <i>oscillation<\/i>, descriptive of actions that swing back and forth.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">A <i>fascicle<\/i> or <i>fascicule<\/i> (both forms exist in English) is a \u201clittle bundle\u201d (&lt; L <b>fascis<\/b>)\u2014for example, an unbound segment of a large book. In ancient Rome, the plural <b>fasces<\/b> denoted the bundle of rods that symbolized consular power. In 20th century Italy, that symbolism was revived, and gave rise to the political label <i>Fascist<\/i> .<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">If you prefer the transformed and disguised kind of derivatives, English can roll out a fine supply. That four-letter word <i>roll<\/i> (both verb and noun) conceals the Latin diminutive <b>rotula<\/b>, \u201clittle wheel\u201d (<b>rota<\/b>). A doublet for <i>module<\/i> (&lt; L <b>modulus<\/b>) is <i>mould<\/i> (US <i>mold<\/i>), in the sense of \u201clittle measure\u201d; the mouldy kind of <i>mould<\/i> is an entirely different word. Your <i>un<\/i><i>cle <\/i>is descended from Latin <b>avunculus<\/b>, literally a \u201clittle grandfather\u201d (<b>avus<\/b>); if he\u2019s kind and jolly, like all good uncles, we\u2019ll describe him as <i>avuncular<\/i>. A <i>carbuncle<\/i> is an unrelated little piece of coal (<b>carbo<\/b>)\u2014and one guaranteed cause of a sore foot. From the Latin adjective <b>cavus<\/b> (\u201chollow\u201d) comes <b>cavea<\/b> (\u201ccage,\u201d \u201ccoop\u201d); a \u201clittle cage\u201d is a *<b>caveola<\/b>, source of our word<i> jail <\/i>(which the British still spell as <i>gaol<\/i>, a form that is slightly closer to the Latin). A <i>seal<\/i> (the kind that you affix to a document) is derived from <b>sigillum<\/b>, the diminutive of <b>signum<\/b> (\u201csign,\u201d \u201cseal,\u201d etc.).<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\">There are two English homonyms, <i>buccal<\/i> and <i>buckle<\/i>, which are both derived from the same noun, though they are not exact doublets. <b>Bucca<\/b> was the classical Latin word for the human cheek, though it wandered chinward to become the mouth in French (<i>bouche<\/i>) and Italian (<i>bocca<\/i>). One can predict the adjective form <b>buccalis<\/b>, \u201cpertaining to the cheek\u201d; its English derivative, <i>buccal<\/i>, is a common word in dentistry, applied to the part of the tooth that is nearest the cheek (as opposed to <i>lingual<\/i>, on the side of the tongue). The medieval Latin diminutive <b>buccula<\/b> denoted the \u201ccheek-strap\u201d of the helmet and the boss of a shield; it was not too obscure a progression for the word to become generalized as any type of <i>buckle<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\"><i><\/i>If your appetite for Latin diminutives is undiminished, you can look up some of the following: <i>bottle, bugle, chapel, charter, model, novel, panel, pommel, pupil <\/i>(two kinds)<i>, <\/i><i>scruple, trestle, <\/i>and<i> vanilla<\/i>. The etymology of that last word may make you blush. If you are a French scholar, look up <i>soleil, chapeau, oiseau, abeille, oreille, <\/i>and<i> genou.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;text-indent: 36pt\"><i><\/i>Let us end with a quiet note of warning. Just when you think that you can spot a Latin \u201clittle word\u201d at ten paces, you will learn that there is a deceptively similar group of nouns derived from verbs. In a later chapter we\u2019ll meet such English words as <i>curriculum, vestibule, cubicle, vehicle, miracle, oracle, obstacle, <\/i>and<i> spectacle<\/i>\u2014with not a diminutive in the bunch. Language study wouldn\u2019t be any fun if it were too easy.<\/p>\n<hr class=\"before-footnotes clear\" \/><div class=\"footnotes\"><ol><li id=\"footnote-701-1\">A <em>testicle<\/em> (L <strong>testiculus<\/strong>) is a \u201clittle witness\u201d (<strong>&lt; testis<\/strong>), proof of one\u2019s virility. Without the diminutive suffix, <strong>testis<\/strong> had the same anatomical meaning; the comic poet Plautus puns on the double force of <strong>testis<\/strong>, \u201cwitness\u201d and \u201csexual witness.\u201d The English word <em>testes<\/em> is a 3rd declension Latin plural. <a href=\"#return-footnote-701-1\" class=\"return-footnote\" aria-label=\"Return to footnote 1\">&crarr;<\/a><\/li><li id=\"footnote-701-2\">The word <em>juggler<\/em> was derived ultimately from <strong>joculator<\/strong>, \u201ca person who does funny little things.\u201d The Latin word is an agent noun from a denominative verb\u2014a form explained in Chapter 11, <a href=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/chapter\/%c2%a776-what-is-a-denominative-verb\/\">\u00a776<\/a>. <a href=\"#return-footnote-701-2\" class=\"return-footnote\" aria-label=\"Return to footnote 2\">&crarr;<\/a><\/li><\/ol><\/div>","protected":false},"author":20,"menu_order":5,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"Chapter 7: Latin Diminutives","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[52],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-701","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":583,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/701","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/20"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/701\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1955,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/701\/revisions\/1955"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/583"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/701\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=701"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=701"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=701"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=701"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}